| 1 | Author: | Jack
George S. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | History of Roanoke County  | | | | Published: | 2004 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | By GEORGE S. JACK This is to certify that Lieutenant C. C. Taliaferro was a
member of Company "C," Captain Brad Brown, of the Battalion
of Scouts, Guides, and Couriers, that was attached to the Headquarters
of the Army of Northern Virginia, then under the command
of General Robert E. Lee. He rendered faithful service
as a scout and courier, often accompanying the General and
members of his Staff on the field of battle, and was with me on the
tenth day of May 1864, in the hottest of the fight on that day and
the successful charge made by our troops to recover portion
of our line seized on one side of what is known now as
"Bloody Angle," near Spottsylvania Court House. He was
wounded in the army that afternoon, but in due time returned
to duty, and was paroled at Appomattox. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Izumi Shikibu | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Izumi Shikibu nikki [Sanjonishike-bon manuscript] | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | ゆめよりもはかなき世のなかをなげきわびつゝあかしくらすほどに、四月十よひ
にもなりぬれば、木のしたくらがりもてゆく。ついひぢのうへの草あをやかなるも、
人はことにめもとゞめぬを、あはれとながむるほどに、ちかきすいがいのもとに人の
けはひすれば、たれならんとおもふほどに、〔さしいでたるをみれば〕、故宮にさぶ
らひしことねりわらはなりけり。あはれにものゝおぼゆるほどにきたれば、「などか
ひさしくみえざりつる。とをざかるむかしのなごりにもおもふを」などいはすれば、「そのことゝさぶらはでは、なれ／＼しきさまにやとつゝましう候うちに、日ごろは山でらにまかりありきてなん。いとたよりなくつれ％＼に思たまふらるれば、御かはりにもみたてまつらんとてなんそちの宮にまいりてさぶらふ」とかたる。「いとよきことにこそあなれ。そのみやはいとあてに、けゝしうおはしますなるは、むかしのやうには、えしもあらじ」などいへば、「しかおはしませど、いとけぢかくおはしまして、『つねにまいるや』とゝはせおはしまして、『まいり侍』と申候つれば、『これもてまいりて、′いかゞみ給′とてたてまつらせよ』とのたまはせつる」とて、たちばなの花をとりいでたれば、「むかしの人の」といはれて、「さらばまいりなん。
いかゞきこえさすべき」といへば、ことばにてきこえさせんもかたはらいたくて、な
にかはあだ／＼しくもまだきこえ給はぬを、はかなきことをもと思て、 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Shimazaki, Toson | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Arashi | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 子供らは古い時計のかかった茶の間に集まって、そこにある柱のそばへ各自の
背丈
（
せたけ
）
を比べに行った。次郎の
背
（
せい
）
の高くなったのにも驚く。家じゅうで、いちばん高い、あの子の頭はもう一寸四
分
（
ぶ
）
ぐらいで
鴨居
（
かもい
）
にまで届きそうに見える。毎年の暮れに、郷里のほうから年取りに上京して、その時だけ私たちと一緒になる太郎よりも、次郎のほうが背はずっと高くなった。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Shimazaki, Toson | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Asameshi | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 五月が来た。測候所の技手なぞをして居るものは誰しも同じ思であろうが、殊に自分はこの五月を堪えがたく思う。其日々々の
勤務
（
つとめ
）
――気圧を調べるとか、風力を計るとか、雲形を観察するとか、または東京の気象台へ宛てて報告を作るとか、そんな仕事に追われて、月日を送るという境涯でも、あの蛙が旅情をそそるように鳴出す頃になると、妙に寂しい
思想
（
かんがえ
）
を起す。旅だ――五月が自分に教えるのである。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 39 | Author: | Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Lady of the lake, | | | | Published: | 2004 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung
On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung,
Till envious ivy did around thee cling,
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string,--
O Minstrel Harp, still must shine accents sleep?
Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring,
Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep,
Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 45 | Author: | Sanderson, Robert | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Vietnam Powwow: The Vietnam War as Remembered by Native American Veterans | | | | Published: | 2004 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "John Luke Flyinghorse, Sr. - Marine Boot Camp Photo"
Photo of John Luke Flyinghorse, Sr. from Marine boot camp.
The following is a collection of narratives written or spoken by
Native American veterans about the Vietnam War. Currently, no such collection is
available, a surprising absence in that Native Americans were perhaps the most
widely represented group in the armed services during the time of the Vietnam
War. According to the 1980 U.S. Census, 82,000 American Indians served in the
military during the Vietnam era. Many, undoubtedly, found themselves in Vietnam.
Yet, no major study to date has identified Native American veterans as a
distinct socioeconomic group in that war. In fact, only recently has any
significant attention been given to the social, economic, and cultural needs of
Native Americans in general. It is time that Vietnam War era American Indian
vets and their families be provided a forum for expressing their views and
reflections on America's longest war. Hence, the purpose of this collection is
to present in their own voices the experience of Native Americans during the
Vietnam War era. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 46 | Author: | Sanger, Margaret | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Woman and the New Race | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE most far-reaching social development of modern times is the
revolt of woman against sex servitude. The most important force in the
remaking of the world is a free motherhood. Beside this force, the
elaborate international programmes of modern statesmen are weak and
superficial. Diplomats may formulate leagues of nations and nations may
pledge their utmost strength to maintain them, statesmen may dream of
reconstructing the world out of alliances, hegemonies and spheres of
influence, but woman, continuing to produce explosive populations, will
convert these pledges into the proverbial scraps of paper; or she may,
by controlling birth, lift motherhood to the plane of a voluntary,
intelligent function, and remake the world. When the world is thus
remade, it will exceed the dream of statesman, reformer and
revolutionist. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 49 | Author: | Schurz, Carl, 1829-1906 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Abraham Lincoln : an essay | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | NO American can study the character and career of Abraham Lincoln without
being carried away by sentimental emotions. We are always inclined to idealize
that which we love,—a state of mind very unfavorable to the exercise of
sober critical judgment. It is therefore not surprising that most of those
who have written or spoken on that extraordinary man, even while conscientiously
endeavoring to draw a lifelike portraiture of his being, and to form a just
estimate of his public conduct, should have drifted into more or less
indiscriminating eulogy, painting his great features in the most glowing
colors, and covering with tender shadings whatever might look like a blemish. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 50 | Author: | Scott, Walter | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Origin of the general Opinions respecting Demonology among Mankind
The Belief in the Immortality of the Soul is the main inducement
to credit its occasional re-appearance — The Philosophical Objections
to the Apparition of an Abstract Spirit little understood
by the Vulgar and Ignorant — The situations of excited Passion
incident to Humanity, which teach Men to wish or apprehend
Supernatural Apparitions — They are often presented by the Sleeping
Sense — Story of Somnambulism — The Influence of Credulity contagious,
so that Individuals will trust the Evidence of others in
despite of their own Senses — Examples from the "Historia
Verdadera" of Bernal Dias del Castillo, and from the Works of
Patrick Walker — The apparent Evidence of Intercourse with the
Supernatural World is sometimes owing to a depraved State of the
bodily Organ s — Difference between this Disorder and Insanity, in
which the Organs retain their tone, though that of the Mind is lost
— Rebellion of the Senses of a Lunatic against the current of his
Reveries — Narratives of a contrary Nature, in which the Evidence
of the Eyes overbore the Conviction of the Understanding
Example of a London Man of Pleasure — Of Nicolai, the German
Bookseller and Philosopher — Of a Patient of Dr. Gregory — Of an
Eminent Scottish Lawyer, deceased — Of this same fallacious
Disorder are other instances, which have but sudden and momentary
endurance — Apparition of Maupertuis — Of a late illustrious modern
Poet — The Cases quoted chiefly relating to false Impressions on the
Visual Nerve, those upon the Ear next considered — Delusions of the Touch chiefly
experienced in Sleep — Delusions. of the Taste — And of the Smelling — Sum of the
Argument. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 53 | Author: | Scull, Guy H. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Lassoing Wild Animals In Africa | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IT was a special train—loaded to capacity with horses and dogs, camp
baggage, moving-picture cameras, cowboys, photographers, and porters;
and when it pulled out of the Nairobi station on the way to the "up
country" of British East Africa, the period of preparation passed away
and the time of action began. As the faces of the people on the platform
glided by the window of the slowly moving carriage, there was good will
written on all of them; but also unbelief. There was no doubt as to
what they thought of Buffalo Jones's expedition that was setting out to
rope and tie and photograph the wild animals of the East African Veldt. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 54 | Author: | Seeger, Mary K. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Charlotte Mary Yonge. | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In the decade which filled the middle of the last century, a
number of writers whose names have long been familiar won, by the
publication of one novel, of a sudden a fame that was more or less
enduring. Thackeray led the list with Vanity Fair, and
Charlotte Bronte followed soon after with Jane Eyre. In
1850 Charlotte Yonge's most important book—The Heir of
Redcliffe—appeared. A little later John Halifax
achieved as sudden and brilliant a reputation, while Anthony
Trollope and Mrs. Oliphant came before the public with books that
are still read and liked. Scenes from Clerical Life and
Richard Feverel were not far behind; and time, which
reverses so many verdicts, has placed this last book at length very
high on the list. It has not been Miss Yonge's good fortune to
hold in all respects the place she made her own so early in life,
but it has been and still remains her distinction to have been,
among English novelists, the exponent of a movement that changed to
a great extent the life of the common people. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 57 | Author: | Shaw, Anna Howard | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Story of a Pioneer | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | MY father's ancestors were the Shaws of
Rothiemurchus, in Scotland, and the ruins
of their castle may still be seen on the island of
Loch-an-Eilan, in the northern Highlands. It was
never the picturesque castle of song and story, this
home of the fighting Shaws, but an austere fortress,
probably built in Roman times; and even to-day
the crumbling walls which alone are left of it show
traces of the relentless assaults upon them. Of
these the last and the most successful were made
in the seventeenth century by the Grants and
Rob Roy; and it was into the hands of the Grants
that the Shaw fortress finally fell, about 1700, after
almost a hundred years of ceaseless warfare. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 62 | Author: | Shillaber, Benjamin Penhallow | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Life and Sayings of Mrs. Partington and others of the family | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Illustrated capital N in which Mrs. Partington and Ike look out the window at the cat hanging
in the tree.
NOW, Isaac," said Mrs. Partington, as she came into the room
with a basket snugly covered over, "take our Tabby, and drop her
somewhere, and see that she don't come back again, for I am sick
and tired of driving her out of the butter. She is the thievinest
creatur! But don't hurt her, Isaac; only take care that she don't
come back." | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 63 | Author: | Sidney, Sir Philip | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Defence of Poesie | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | When the right vertuous E.W.{1} and I were at the
Emperours Court togither, wee gave our selves to learne horsemanship of
Jon Pietro Pugliano, one that with great commendation had the place of an
Esquire in his stable: and hee according to the fertilnes of the Italian
wit, did not onely affoord us the demonstration of his practise, but
sought to enrich our mindes with the contemplations therein, which he
thought most precious. But with none I remember mine eares were at any
time more loaden, then when (either angred with slow paiment, or mooved
with our learnerlike admiration) hee exercised his speech in the praise of
his facultie. He said souldiers were the noblest estate of mankind, and
horsemen the noblest of souldiers. He said they were the maisters of
warre, and ornaments of peace, speedie goers, and strong abiders,
triumphers both in Camps and Courts: nay to so unbleeved a point he
proceeded, as that no earthly thing bred such wonder to a Prince, as to be
a good horseman. Skill of government was but a Pedenteria{2} in
comparison, then would he adde certaine praises by
telling us what a peerless beast the horse was, the one serviceable
Courtier without flattery, the beast of most bewtie, faithfulnesse,
courage, and such more, that if I had not beene a peece of a Logician
before I came to him, I thinke he would have perswaded me to have wished
myselfe a horse. But thus much at least, with his no few words he drave
into me, that selflove is better than any guilding, to make that seem
gorgious wherein ourselves be parties. Wherein if Pulianos strong
affection and weake arguments will not satisfie you, I will give you a
nearer example of my selfe, who I know not by what mischance in these my
not old yeares and idlest times, having slipt into the title of a Poet, am
provoked to say something unto you in the defence of that my unelected
vocation, which if I handle with more good will, then good reasons, beare
with me, since the scholler is to be pardoned that followeth in the steps
of his maister. And yet I must say, that as I have more just cause to
make a pittifull defence of poor Poetrie, which from almost the highest
estimation of learning, is falne to be the laughing stocke of children, so
have I need to bring some more available proofes, since the former is by
no man bard of his deserved credit, the silly lat[t]er, hath had even the
names of Philosophers used to the defacing of it, with great daunger of
civill warre among the Muses. And first truly to all them that professing
learning envey against Poetrie, may justly be objected, that they go very
neare to ungratefulnesse, to seeke to deface that which in the noblest
nations and languages that are knowne, hath bene the first light giver to
ignorance, and first nurse whose milk litle & litle enabled them to
feed afterwardes of tougher knowledges. And will you play the
Hedge-hogge, that being received into the den, drave out his host? Or
rather the Vipers, that with their birth kill their parents? Let learned
Greece in any of his manifold Sciences, be able to shew me one booke
before Musaeus{3}, Homer, & Hesiod, all three
nothing else but Poets. Nay let any Historie bee brought, that can say any
writers were there before them, if they were not men of the same skill, as
Orpheus, Linus, and some other are named, who having bene the first of
that country that made pennes deliverers of their knowledge to the
posteritie, nay, justly challenge to bee called their Fathers in learning.
For not onely in time they had this prioritie, (although in it selfe
antiquitie be venerable){4} but went before them, as
causes to draw with their charming sweetnesse the wild untamed wits to an
admiration of knowledge. So as Amphion{5}, was said
to moove stones with his Poetry, to build Thebes, and Orpheus to be
listened to by beasts, indeed stonie and beastly people. So among the
Romans, were Livius, Andronicus, and Ennius, so in the Italian language,
the first that made it aspire to be a treasure-house of Science, were the
Poets Dante, Bocace, and Petrach. So in our English, wer Gower, and
Chawcer, after whom, encoraged & delighted with their excellent
foregoing, others have folowed to bewtify our mother toong, aswel in the
same kind as other arts. This did so notably shew itself, that the
Philosphers of Greece durst not a long time apear to the world, but under
the mask of poets. So Thales, Empedocles, and Parmenides, sang their
naturall Philosophie in verses. So did Pithagoras and Phocillides, their
morall Councels. So did Tirteus in warre matters, and Solon in matters of
pollicie, or rather they being Poets{6}, did exercise
their delightfull vaine in those points of highest knowledge, which before
them laie hidden to the world. For, that wise Solon was directly a Poet,
it is manifest, having written in verse the notable Fable of the Atlantick
Iland, which was continued by Plato. And truly even Plato who so ever well
considereth, shall finde that in the body of his worke though the inside
& strength were Philosophie, the skin as it were and beautie, depended
most of Poetrie. For all stands upon Dialogues, wherein hee faines many
honest Burgesses of Athens speak of such matters, that if they had bene
set on the Racke, they would never have confessed them: besides his
Poeticall describing the circumstances of their meetings, as the well
ordering of a banquet{7}, the delicacie of a
walke{8}, with enterlacing meere Tales, as Gyges Ring{9}
and others, which, who knows not to bee flowers of
Poetrie, did never walke into Appollos Garden. And even Historiographers,
although their lippes sound of things done, and veritie be written in
their foreheads, have bene glad to borrow both fashion and perchance
weight of the Poets. So Herodotus entitled his Historie, by the name of
the nine Muses, and both he and all the rest that followed him, either
stale{10}, or usurped of Poetrie, their passionate
describing of passions, the many particularities of battels which no man
could affirme, or if that be denied me, long Orations put
in the mouths of
great Kings and Captains, which it is certaine they never pronuonced. So
that truly Philosopher, nor Historiographer, could at the first have
entered into the gates of popular judgements, if they had not taken a
great pasport of Poetrie, which in all nations at this day where learning
flourisheth not, is plaine to be seene: in all which, they have some
feeling of Poetry. In Turkey, besides their lawgiving devines, they have
no other writers but Poets. In our neighbor Countrey Ireland, where truly
learning goes verie bare, yet are their Poets held in a devout reverence.
Even among the most barbarous and simple Indians, where no writing is, yet
they have their Poets who make & sing songs which they call
Arentos{11}, both of their Auncestors deeds, and
praises of
their Gods. A sufficient probability, that if ever learning come among
them, it must be by having their hard dull wittes softened and sharpened
with the sweete delights of Poetrie, for untill they finde a pleasure in
the exercise of the minde, great promises of much knowledge, wil little
persuade them that know not the frutes of knowledge. In VVales, the true
remnant of the auncient Brittons, as there are good authorities to shew,
the long time they had Poets which they called Bardes: so thorow all the
conquests of Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, some of whom, did seeke
to ruine all memory of learning from among them, yet do their Poets even
to this day last: so as it is not more notable in the soone beginning,
then in long continuing. But since the Authors of most of our Sciences,
were the Romanes, and before them the Greekes, let us
a little stand upon
their authorities, but even so farre as to see what names they have given
unto this now scorned skill. Among the Romanes a Poet was called Vates,
which is as much as a diviner, foreseer, or Prophet, as by his conjoyned
words Vaticinium, and Vaticinari{12}, is manifest,
so heavenly a title did that excellent people bestowe uppon this hart-ravishing knowledge, and so farre were they carried into the admiration
thereof, that they thought in the chanceable hitting uppon any of such
verses, great foretokens of their following fortunes, were placed.
Whereupon grew the word of Sortes Vergilianae, when by suddaine opening
Virgils Booke, they lighted uppon some verse of his, as it is reported by
many, whereof the Histories of the Emperours lives are full. As of Albinus
the Governour of our Iland, who in his childhood met with this verse Arma
amens capio, nec sat rationis in armis{13}: and in
his age performed it, although it were a verie vaine and godlesse
superstition, as also it was, to think spirits were commaunded by such
verses, whereupon this word Charmes derived of Carmina, commeth: so yet
serveth it to shew the great reverence those wittes were held in, and
altogither not without ground, since both by the Oracles of Delphos and
Sybillas prophesies, were wholly delivered in verses, for that same
exquisite observing of number and measure in the words, and that high
flying libertie of conceit propper to the Poet, did seeme to have some
divine force in it. And may not I presume a little farther, to shewe the
reasonablenesse of this word Vatis, and say that the
holy Davids Psalms
are a divine Poeme? If I do, I shal not do it without the testimony of
great learned men both auncient and moderne. But even the name of Psalmes
wil speak for me, which being interpreted, is nothing but Songs: then that
it is fully written in meeter as all learned Hebritians {14} agree, although the rules be not yet fully found. Lastly
and principally, his handling his prophecie, which is meerly Poeticall.
For what else is the awaking his musical Instruments, the often and free
chaunging of persons, his notable Prosopopeias{15},
when he maketh you as it were see God comming in his maijestie, his
telling of the beasts joyfulnesse, and hils leaping, but a heavenly
poesie, wherein almost he sheweth himselfe a passionate lover of that
unspeakable and everlasting bewtie, to be seene by the eyes of the mind,
onely cleared by faith? But truly now having named him, I feare I seeme to
prophane that holy name, applying it to Poetry, which is among us throwne
downe to so ridiculous an estimation. But they that with quiet Judgements
wil looke a little deeper into it, shal find the end & working of it
such, as being rightly applied, deserveth not to be scourged out of the
Church of God. But now let us see how the Greekes have named it, and how
they have deemed of it. The Greekes named him poieten{16}, which name, hath as the most excellent, gone through
other languages, it commeth of this word poiein which is to make: wherein
I know not whether by luck or wisedome, we Englishmen have met with the
Greekes in calling him a Maker. Which name, how high and incomparable a
title it is, I had rather were knowne by marking the scope
of other
sciences, then by any partial allegation. There
is no Art{17} delivered unto mankind that hath
not the workes of nature for his principall object, without which they
could not consist, and on which they so depend, as they become Actors
& Plaiers, as it were of what nature will have set forth. So doth the
Astronomer looke upon the starres, and by that he seeth set downe what
order nature hath taken therein. So doth the Geometritian &
Arithmetitian, in their divers sorts of quantities. So doth the Musitians
intimes tel you, which by nature agree, which not. The natural Philosopher
thereon hath his name, and the morall Philosopher standeth uppon the
naturall vertues, vices, or passions of man: and follow nature saith he
therein, and thou shalt not erre. The Lawier saith, what men have
determined. The Historian, what men have done. The Gramarian, speaketh
onely of the rules of speech, and the Rhetoritian and Logitian,
considering what in nature wil soonest proove, and perswade thereon, give
artificiall rules, which still are compassed within the circle of a
question, according to the proposed matter. The Phisitian wayeth the
nature of mans bodie, & the nature of things helpfull, or hurtfull
unto it. And the Metaphisicke though it be in the second & abstract
Notions, and therefore be counted supernaturall, yet doth hee indeed build
upon the depth of nature. Only the Poet disdeining to be tied to any such
subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention, doth grow in
effect into another nature: in making things either better then nature
bringeth foorth, or quite a new, formes such as never were in nature: as
the Heroes, Demigods, Cyclops, Chymeras, Furies, and such like; so as
he
goeth hand in hand with nature, not enclosed within the narrow warrant of
her gifts, but freely raunging within the Zodiack of his owne wit. Nature
never set foorth the earth in so rich Tapistry as diverse Poets have done,
neither with so pleasaunt rivers, fruitfull trees, sweete smelling
flowers, nor whatsoever els may make the too much loved earth more lovely:
her world is brasen, the Poets only deliver a golden. But let those things
alone and goe to man, for whom as the other things are, so it seemeth in
him her uttermost comming is imploied: & know whether she have brought
foorth so true a lover as Theagenes {18}, so constant
a friend as Pylades {19}, so valiant a man as
Orlando {20}, so right a Prince as Xenophons
Cyrus {21}, so excellent a man every way as Virgils
Aeneas {22}. Neither let this be jestingly conceived, bicause
the works of the one be essenciall, the other in imitation or fiction: for
everie understanding, knoweth the skill of ech Artificer standeth in that
Idea, or fore conceit of the worke, and not in the worke it selfe. And
that the Poet hath that Idea, is manifest, by delivering them foorth in
such excellencie as he had imagined them: which delivering foorth, also is
not wholly imaginative, as we are wont to say by them that build Castles
in the aire: but so farre substancially it worketh, not onely to make a Cyrus, which had bene but a
particular excellency as nature might have done, but to bestow a Cyrus
upon the world to make many Cyrusses, if they will learne aright, why and
how that maker made him. Neither let it be deemed too sawcy a comparison,
to ballance the highest point of mans wit, with the efficacie of nature:
but rather give right honor to the heavenly maker of that maker, who
having made man to his owne likenes, set him beyond and over all the
workes of that second nature, which in nothing he sheweth so much as in
Poetry; when with the force of a divine breath, he bringeth things foorth
surpassing her doings: with no small arguments to the incredulous of that
first accursed fall of Adam, since our erected wit maketh us know what
perfection is, and yet our infected wil keepeth us from reaching unto
it {23}. But these arguments will by few be understood,
and by fewer graunted: thus much I hope will be given me, that the Greeks
with some probability of reason, gave him the name above all names of
learning. Now let us go to a more ordinary opening of him, that the truth
may be the more palpable: and so I hope though we get not so unmatched a
praise as the Etimologie of his names will graunt, yet his verie
description which no man will denie, shall not justly be barred from a
principall commendation. Poesie therefore, is an Art of Imitation: for so
Aristotle termeth it in the word mimesis{24}, that
is to say, a representing, counterfeiting, or figuring forth to speake
Metaphorically. A speaking Picture, with this end to teach and
delight {25}. Of this have bene three generall kindes, the
chiefe both in antiquitie and excellencie, were they that did imitate the
unconceivable excellencies of God. Such were David in his Psalmes, Salomon
in his song of songs, in his Ecclesiastes and Proverbes. Moses and Debora,
in their Hymnes, and the wryter of Jobe: Which beside other, the learned
Emanuell, Tremelius, and F. Junius{26},
doo entitle
the Poeticall part of the scripture: against these none will speake that
hath the holie Ghost in due holie reverence. In this kinde, though in a
full wrong divinitie, were Orpheus, Amphion, Homer in his himnes, and
manie other both Greeke and Romanes. And this Poesie must be used by
whosoever will follow S. Paules{27} counsaile, in
singing Psalmes when they are mery, and I knowe is used with the frute of
comfort by some, when in sorrowfull panges of their death bringing sinnes,
they finde the consolation of the never leaving goodnes. The second kinde,
is of them that deale with matters Philosophicall, either morall as
Tirteus, Phocilides, Cato; or naturall, as Lucretius, and Virgils
Georgikes; or Astronomicall as Manilius and Pontanus; or Historicall as
Lucan {28}: which who mislike the fault, is in their
judgement quite out of tast, & not in the sweet food of sweetly
uttered knowledge. But bicause this second sort is wrapped within the fold
of the proposed subject, and takes not the free course of his own
invention, whether they properly bee Poets or no, let Gramarians dispute,
and goe to the third indeed right Poets, of whom chiefly this question
ariseth: betwixt whom and these second, is such a kinde of difference, as
betwixt the meaner sort of Painters, who counterfeyt onely such faces as
are set before them, and the more excelent, who having no law but wit,
bestow that in colours upon you, which is fittest for the eye to see, as
the constant, though lamenting looke of Lucretia, when she punished in her
selfe another faulte: wherein hee painteth not
Lucretia whom he never
saw,
but painteth the outward bewty of such a vertue. For these third be they
which most properly do imitate to teach & delight: and to imitate,
borrow nothing of what is, hath bin, or shall be, but range onely reined
with learned discretion, into the divine consideration of what may be and
should be. These be they that as the first and most noble sort, may justly
be termed Vates: so these are waited on in the excellentest languages and
best understandings, with the fore described name of Poets. For these
indeed do meerly make to imitate, and imitate both to delight & teach,
and delight to move men to take that goodnesse in hand, which without
delight they would flie as from a stranger; and teach to make them know
that goodnesse whereunto they are moved: which being the noblest scope to
which ever any learning was directed, yet want there not idle tongues to
bark at them. These be subdivided into sundry more special denominations.
The most notable be the Heroick, Lyrick, Tragick, Comick, Satyrick,
Iambick, Elegiack, Pastorall, and certaine others: some of these being
tearmed according to the matter they deale with, some by the sort of verse
they liked best to write in, for indeed the greatest part of Poets, have
apparelled their poeticall inventions, in that numbrous kind of writing
which is called vers. Indeed but apparelled verse: being but an ornament
and no cause to Poetrie, since there have bene many most excellent Poets
that never versified, and now swarme many versifiers that need never
answere to the name of Poets. For Xenophon who did imitate so excellently
as to give us effigiem justi imperii, the pourtraiture of a just Empyre
under the name of Cyrus, as Cicero saith of him, made therein an absolute
heroicall Poeme. So did Heliodorus, in his sugred invention of that
picture of love in Theagenes & Chariclea {29},
and yet both these wrote in prose, which I speake to shew, that it is not
ryming and versing that maketh a Poet, (no more than a long gown maketh an
Advocate, who though he pleaded in Armour, should be an Advocat and no
souldier) but it is that faining notable images of vertues, vices, or what
els, with that delightfull teaching, which must be the right describing
note to know a Poet by. Although indeed the Senate of Poets hath chosen
verse as their fittest raiment: meaning as in matter, they passed all in
all, so in manner, to go beyond them: not speaking table talke fashion, or
like men in a dreame, words as they chanceably fall from the mouth, but
peasing each sillable of eache word by just proportion, according to the
dignitie of the suject. Now therfore it shal not be amisse, first to way
this latter sort of poetrie by his workes, and then by his parts, and if
in neither of these Anatomies hee be condemnable, I hope we shall obteine
a more favourable sentence. This purifying of wit, this enriching of
memorie, enabling of judgement, and enlarging of conceit, which commonly
we cal learning, under what name so ever it come forth, or to what
immediate end soever it be directed, the finall end is, to lead and draw
us to as high a perfection, as our degenerate soules made worse by their
clay-lodgings, can be capable of. This according to the inclination of
man, bred many formed impressions. For some that thought
this felicity
principally to be gotten by knowledge, and no knowledge to be so high or
heavenly, as acquaintance with the stars; gave themselves to Astronomie:
others perswading themselves to be Demygods, if they knew the causes of
things, became naturall and supernaturall Philosophers. Some an admirable
delight drew to Musicke; and some the certaintie of demonstration to the
Mathematicks: but all one and other having scope to know, & by
knowledge to lift up the minde from the dungeon of the bodie, to the
enjoying his owne divine essence. But when by the ballance of experience
it was found that the Astronomer looking to the stars might fall in a
ditch, that the inquiring Philosopher might be blind in him self, &
the Mathematician, might draw forth a straight line with a crooked hart.
Then lo did proofe, the overruler of opinions make manifest, that all
these are but serving sciences; which as they have [each] a private end in
themselves, so yet are they all directed to the highest end of the
mistresse knowledge by the Greeks [called] architectonike{30}, which stands as I thinke, in the knowledge of a mans
selfe, in the Ethike and Politique consideration, with the end of well
doing, and not of well knowing onely. Even as the Sadlers next ende is to
make a good Saddle, but his further ende, to serve a nobler facultie,
which is horsmanship, so the horsemans to souldiery: and the souldier not
only to have the skill, but to performe the practise of a souldier. So
that the ending end of all earthly learning, being verteous action, those
skils that most serve to bring forth that, have a most just title to be
Princes over al the rest: wherein if we can shew, the Poet is worthy
to
have it before any other competitors: among whom principally to challenge
it, step forth the moral Philosophers, whom me thinkes I see comming
towards me, with a sullen gravitie, as though they could not abide vice by
day-light, rudely cloathed for to witness outwardly their contempt of
outward things, with books in their hands against glorie, whereto they set
their names: sophistically speaking against subtiltie, and angry with any
man in whom they see the foule fault of anger. These men casting larges as
they go of definitions, divitions and distinctions, with a scornful
interrogative, do soberly aske, whether it be possible to find any path so
ready to lead a man to vertue, as that which teacheth what vertue is,
& teacheth it not only by delivering forth his very being, his causes
and effects, but also by making knowne his enemie vice, which must be
destroyed, and his cumbersome servant passion, which must be mastred: by
shewing the generalities that contains it, and the specialties that are
derived from it. Lastly by plaine setting downe, how it extends it selfe
out of the limits of a mans owne little world, to the government of
families, and mainteining of publike societies. The Historian scarcely
gives leisure to the Moralist to say so much, but that he loaden with old
Mouse-eaten Records, authorising himselfe for the most part upon other
Histories, whose greatest authorities are built uppon the notable
foundation Heresay, having much ado to accord differing writers, & to
pick truth out of partiality: better acquainted with a 1000. yeres ago,
then with the present age, and yet better knowing how this world goes,
then how his owne wit runnes, curious for Antiquities, and inquisitive of
Novelties, a wonder to yoong folkes, and a Tyrant in table talke; denieth
in a great chafe, that any man for teaching of vertue, and vertues
actions, is comparable to him. I am Testis temporum, lux veritatis, vita
memoriae, magistra vitae, nuncia vetustatis {31}. The
Philosopher saith he, teacheth a disputative vertue, but I do an active.
His vertue is excellent in the dangerlesse Academy of Plato: but mine
sheweth forth her honourable face in the battailes of Marathon, Pharsalia,
Poietiers, and Agincourt. Hee teacheth vertue by certaine abstract
considerations: but I onely follow the footing of them that have gone
before you. Old aged experience, goeth beyond the fine witted Philosopher:
but I give the experience of many ages. Lastly, if he make the song Booke,
I put the learners hand to the Lute, and if he be the guide, I am the
light. Then he would alleage you innumerable examples, confirming storie
by stories, how much the wisest Senators and Princes, have bene directed
by the credit of Historie, as Brutus, Alphonsus of Aragon, (and who not if
need be.) At length, the long line of their disputation makes a point in
this, that the one giveth the precept, & the other the example. Now
whom shall we find, since the question standeth for the highest forme in
the schoole of learning to be moderator? Truly as mee seemeth, the Poet,
and if not a moderator, even the man that ought to carry the title from
them both: & much more from all the other serving sciences. Therfore
compare we the Poet with the Historian, & with the morall Philosopher:
and if hee goe beyond them both, no other humaine skill can match him.
For as for the divine, with all reverence it is ever to be excepted, not
onely for having his scope as far beyond any of these, as Eternitie
exceedeth a moment: but even for passing ech of these in themselves. And
for the Lawier, though Jus be the daughter of Justice, the chiefe of
vertues, yet because he seeks to make men good, rather formidine
poenae {32}, then virtutis amore {33}: or
to say righter, doth not endevor to make men good, but that their evill
hurt not others, having no care so he be a good citizen, how bad a man he
might be. Therefore, as our wickednes maketh him necessarie, and
necessitie maketh him honorable, so he is not in the deepest truth to
stand in ranck with these, who al endevour to take naughtinesse away, and
plant goodnesse even in the secretest cabinet of our soules: and these
foure are all that any way deale in the consideration of mens manners,
which being the supreme knowledge, they that best breed it, deserve the
best commendation. The Philosopher therefore, and the Historian, are they
which would win the goale, the one by precept, the other by example: but
both, not having both, doo both halt. For the Philosopher setting downe
with thornie arguments, the bare rule, is so hard of utterance, and so
mistie to be conceived, that one that hath no other guide but him, shall
wade in him till he be old, before he shall finde suffiecient cause to be
honest. For his knowledge standeth so upon the abstract and generall, that
happie is that man who may understand him, and more happie, that can apply
what he doth understand. On the other side, the Historian wanting the
precept, is so tied, not to what should be, but to what is, to the
particular truth of things, that his example draweth no necessary
consequence, and therefore a lesse fruitfull doctrine. Now doth the peerlesse Poet performe both, for
whatsoever the
Philosopher saith should be done, he gives a perfect picture of it by some
one, by whom he presupposeth it was done, so as he coupleth the generall
notion with the particuler example. A perfect picture I say, for hee
yeeldeth to the powers of the minde an image of that whereof the
Philosopher bestoweth but a wordish description, which doth neither
strike, pearce, nor possesse, the sight of the soule so much, as that
other doth. For as in outward things to a man that had never seene an
Elephant, or a Rinoceros, who should tell him most exquisitely all their
shape, cullour, bignesse, and particuler marks, or of a gorgious pallace
an Architecture, who declaring the full bewties, might well make the
hearer able to repeat as it were by roat all he had heard, yet should
never satisfie his inward conceit, with being witnesse to it selfe of a
true lively knowledge: but the same man, assoon as he might see those
beasts wel painted, or that house wel in modell, shuld straightwaies grow
without need of any description to a judicial comprehending of them, so no
doubt the Philosopher with his learned definitions, be it of vertues or
vices, matters of publike policy or privat government, replenisheth the
memory with many infallible grounds of wisdom, which notwithstanding lie
darke before the imaginative and judging power, if they be not illuminated
or figured forth by the speaking picture of Poesie. Tully taketh much
paines, and many times not without Poeticall helpes to make us know the
force, love of our country hath in us. Let us but hear old Anchices{34},
speaking in the middest of Troies flames, or see
Ulisses in the fulnesse of all Calipsoes delightes, bewaile his absence
from barraine and beggarly Itheca {35}. Anger the
Stoickes said, was a short madnesse {36}: let but
Sophocles bring you Ajax on a stage, killing or whipping sheepe and oxen,
thinking them the Army of Greekes, with their Chieftaines Agamemnon, and
Menelaus: and tell me if you have not a more familiar insight into Anger,
then finding in the schoolemen his Genus and Difference. See whether
wisdom and temperance in Ulisses and Diomedes, valure in Achilles,
friendship in Nisus and Eurialus {37}, even to an
ignorant man carry not an apparant shining: and contrarily, the remorse of
conscience in Oedipus; the soone repenting pride in Agamemnon; the selfe
devouring crueltie in his father Atreus; the violence of ambition, in the
two Theban brothers; the sower sweetnesse of revenge in Medea; and to fall
lower, the Terentian Gnato {38}, and our Chawcers
Pander {39} so exprest, that we now use their names,
to signify their Trades: And finally, all vertues, vices, and passions, so
in their owne naturall states, laide to the view, that we seeme not to
heare of them, but clearly to see through them. But even in the most
excellent determination of goodnesse, what Philosophers counsaile can so
readely direct a Prince, as the feined Cirus in Xenophon, or a vertuous
man in all fortunes: as Aeneas in Virgill, or a whole Common-wealth, as
the Way of Sir Thomas Moore's Eutopia. I say the Way, because where
Sir
Thomas Moore erred, it was the fault of the man and not of the Poet: for
that Way of patterning a Common-wealth, was most absolute though hee
perchaunce hath not so absolutely performed it. For the question is,
whether the fashioned Image of Poetrie, or the regular instruction of
Philosophie, hath the more force in teaching? Wherein if the Philosophers
have more rightly shewed themselves Philosophers then the Poets, have
attained to the high toppe of their profession (as in truth Mediocribus
esse poetis non Dii, non homines, non concessere columnae {40},) it is (I say againe) not the fault of the Art, but that
by fewe men that Art can be accomplished. Certainly even our Saviour
Christ could as well have given the morall common places of
uncharitablenesse and humblenesse, as the divine narration of Dives and
Lazarus {41}, or of disobedience and mercy, as the
heavenly discourse of the lost childe and the gracious Father {42}, but that his through searching wisedom, knew the estate
of Dives burning in hell, and Lazarus in Abrahams bosome, would more
constantly, as it were, inhabit both the memorie and judgement. Truly for
my selfe (mee seemes) I see before mine eyes, the lost childs disdainful
prodigalitie, turned to envy a Swines dinner: which by the learned Divines
are thought not to be Historical acts, but instructing Parables. For
conclusion, I say the Philosopher teacheth, but he teacheth obscurely, so
as the learned onely can understand him, that is to say, he teacheth them
that are alreadie taught. But the Poet is the food for the tenderest
stomacks, the Poet is indeed, the right populer Philosopher. Whereof
Esops
Tales give good proofe, whose prettie Allegories stealing under the
formall Tales of beastes, makes many more beastly than beasts: begin to
hear the sound of vertue from those dumbe speakers. But now it may be
alleadged, that if this imagining of matters be so fit for the
imagination, then must the Historian needs surpasse, who brings you images
of true matters, such as indeed were done, and not such as fantastically
or falsely may be suggested to have bin done. Truly Aristotle himselfe in
his discourse of Poesie {43}, plainly determineth
this question, saying, that Poetrie is philosophoteron and spuodaioteron,
that is to say, it is more Philosophicall and more [studiously
serious] {44} then History. His reason is, because Poesie
dealeth with katholou, that is to say, with the universall consideration,
and the Historie with kathekaston, the particular. Now saith he, the
universall wayes what is fit to be said or done, either in likelihood or
necessitie, which the Poesie considereth in his imposed names: and the
particular onely maketh whether Alcibiades did or suffered this or that.
Thus farre Aristotle. Which reason of his, as all his is most full of
reason. For indeed if the question were, whether it were better to have a
particular act truly or faithfully set downe, there is no doubt which is
to be chosen, no more than whether you had rather have Vespacians Picture
right as he was, or at the Painters pleasure nothing resembling. But if
the question be for your owne use and learning, whether it be better to
have it set downe as it should be, or as it was; then certainly is more
doctrinable, the fained Cyrus in Xenophon, then the true Cyrus in
Justin {45}: and the fained Aeneas in
Virgill, then the right
Aeneas in Dares Phrigius {46}: as to a Ladie that
desired to fashion her countenance to the best grace: a Painter shuld more
benefite her to pourtrait a most sweete face, writing Canidia uppon it,
then to paint Canidia as shee was, who Horace sweareth was full ill
favoured {47}. If the Poet do his part aright, he
will shew you in Tantalus Atreus {48}, and such like,
nothing that is not to be shunned; in Cyrus, Aeneas, Ulisses, each thing
to be followed: where the Historian bound to tell things as things were,
cannot be liberall, without hee will be Poeticall of a perfect patterne,
but as Alexander or Scipio himselfe, shew things, some to be liked, some
to be misliked, and then how will you discerne what to follow, but by your
own discretion which you had without reading Q. Curtius {49}. And whereas a man may say, though in universall
consideration of doctrine, the Poet prevaileth, yet that the Historie in
his saying such a thing was done, doth warrant a man more in that he shall
follow. The answere is manifest, that if he stand upon that was, as if he
should argue, because it rained yesterday, therefore it should raine to
day, then indeede hath it some advantage to a gross conceit. But if hee
knowe an example onely enformes a conjectured likelihood, and so goe by
reason, the Poet doth so farre exceed him, as hee is to frame his example
to that which is most reasonable, be it in warlike, politike, or private
matters, where the Historian in his bare, was, hath many times that which
we call fortune, to overrule the best wisedome. Manie times he must tell
events, whereof he can yield no cause, or if he do, it must be poetically.
For that a fained example (for as for to moove, it is cleare, since the
fained may be tuned to the highest key of passion) let us take one example
wherein an Historian and a Poet did concurre. Herodotus and Justin doth
both testifie, that Zopirus, King Darius faithfull servant, seeing his
maister long resisted by the rebellious Babilonians, fained himselfe in
extreame disgrace of his King, for verifying of which, he caused his owne
nose and eares to be cut off, and so flying to the Babylonians was
received, and for his knowne valure so farre creadited, that hee did finde
meanes to deliver them over to Darius {50}. Much like
matter doth Livy record of Tarquinius, and his sonne {51}. Xenophon excellently faineth such another Strategeme,
performed by Abradates in Cyrus behalfe {52}. Now
would I faine knowe, if occasion be presented unto you, to serve your
Prince by such an honest dissimulation, why you do not as well learne it
of Xenophons fiction, as of the others veritie: and truly so much the
better, as you shall save your nose by the bargaine. For Abradates did not
counterfeyt so farre. So then the best of the Historian is subject to the
Poet, for whatsoever action or faction, whatsoever counsaile, pollicie, or
warre, strategeme, the Historian is bound to recite, that may the Poet if
hee list with his imitation make his owne; bewtifying it both for further
teaching, and more delighting as it please him: having all from Dante his
heven to his hell, under the authority of his pen. Which if I be asked
what Poets have done so? as I might well name some, so yet say I, and
say
again, I speake of the Art and not of the Artificer. Now to that which
commonly is attributed to the praise of Historie, in respect of the
notable learning, is got by marking the successe, as though therein a man
shuld see vertue exalted, & vice punished: truly that commendation is
peculiar to Poetrie, and farre off from Historie: for indeed Poetrie ever
sets vertue so out in her best cullours, making fortune her well-wayting
handmayd, that one must needs be enamoured of her. Well may you see
Ulisses in a storme and in other hard plights, but they are but exercises
of patience & magnanimitie, to make them shine the more in the neare
following prosperitie. And of the contrary part, if evill men come to the
stage, they ever goe out (as the Tragedie writer answered to one that
misliked the shew of such persons) so manicled as they litle animate
folkes to follow them. But the Historie being captived to the trueth of a
foolish world, is many times a terror from well-doing, and an
encouragement to unbrideled wickednes. For see we not valiant
Milciades {53} rot in his fetters? The just
Phocion {54} and the accomplished Socrates{55},
put to death like Traytors? The cruell Severus {56},
live prosperously? The excellent Severus {57}
miserably murthered? Sylla and Marius dying in their beds {58}? Pompey and Cicero slain then when they wold have thought
exile a happinesse {59}? See we not vertous
Cato {60} driven to kill himselfe, and Rebell Caesar so
advanced, that his name yet after 1600. yeares lasteth in the highest
honor? And marke but even Caesars owne words of the forenamed Sylla, (who
in that onely, did honestly to put downe his dishonest Tyrannie) Litteras
nescivet {61}: as if want of learning caused him to
doo well. He ment it not by Poetrie, which not content with earthly
plagues, deviseth new punishments in hell for Tyrants: nor yet by
Philosophy, which teacheth Occidentos esse {62}, but
no doubt by skill in Historie, for that indeed can affoord you Cipselus,
Periander, Phalaris, Dionisius {63}, and I know not
how many more of the same kennel, that speed well inough in their
abhominable injustice of usurpation. I conclude therefore that he
excelleth historie, not onely in furnishing the minde with knowledge, but
in setting it forward to that which deserves to be called and accounted
good: which setting forward and moving to well doing, indeed setteth the
Lawrell Crowne upon the Poets as victorious, not onely of the Historian,
but over the Philosopher, howsoever in teaching it may be questionable.
For suppose it be granted, that which I suppose with great reason may be
denied, that the Philosopher in respect of his methodical proceeding,
teach more perfectly then the poet, yet do I thinke, that no man is so
much philophilosophos {64} as to compare the
philosopher in mooving with the Poet. And that mooving is of a higher
degree than teaching, it may by this appeare, that it is well nigh both
the cause and effect of teaching. For who will be taught, if he be not
mooved with desire to be taught? And what so much good doth that teaching
bring foorth, (I speake still of morall doctrine) as that it mooveth one
to do that which it doth teach. For as Aristotle saith, it is not gnosis
but praxis {65} must be the frute: and how praxis can
be without being moved to practice, it is no hard matter to consider.
The
Philosopher sheweth you the way, hee enformeth you of the particularities,
as well of the tediousnes of the way, as of the pleasaunt lodging you
shall have when your journey is ended, as of the many by turnings that may
divert you from your way. But this is to no man but to him that will reade
him, and reade him with attentive studious painfulnesse, which constant
desire, whosoever hath in him, hath alreadie past halfe the hardnesse of
the way: and therefore is beholding to the Philosopher, but for the other
halfe. Nay truly learned men have learnedly thought, that where once
reason hath so much over-mastered passion, as that the minde hath a free
desire to doo well, the inward light each minde hath in it selfe, is as
good as a Philosophers booke, since in Nature we know it is well, to doo
well, and what is well, and what is evill, although not in the wordes of
Art which Philosophers bestow uppon us: for out of naturall conceit the
Philosophers drew it; but to be moved to doo that which wee know, or to be
mooved with desire to know. Hoc opus, hic labor est {66}. Now therein of all Sciences I speake still of humane
(and according to the humane conceit) is our Poet the Monarch. For hee
doth not onely shew the way, but giveth so sweete a prospect into the way,
as will entice anie man to enter into it: Nay he doth as if your journey
should lye through a faire vineyard, at the verie first, give you a
cluster of grapes, that full of the taste, you may long to passe further.
Hee beginneth not with obscure definitions, which must blurre the
margent
with interpretations, and loade the memorie with doubtfulnesse: but hee
commeth to you with words set in delightfull proportion, either
accompanied with, or prepared for the well enchanting skill of musicke,
and with a tale forsooth he commeth unto you, with a tale, which holdeth
children from play, and olde men from the Chimney corner; and pretending
no more, doth intend the winning of the minde from wickednes to vertue;
even as the child is often brought to take most wholesome things by hiding
them in such other as have a pleasaunt taste: which if one should begin to
tell them the nature of the Alloes or Rhabarbarum they should receive,
wold sooner take their physic at their eares then at their mouth, so it is
in men (most of which, are childish in the best things, til they be
cradled in their graves) glad they will be to heare the tales of Hercules,
Achilles, Cyrus, Aeneas, and hearing them, must needes heare the right
description of wisdom, value, and justice; which if they had bene barely
(that is to say Philosophically) set out, they would sweare they be
brought to schoole againe; that imitation whereof Poetrie is, hath the
most conveniencie to nature of al other: insomuch that as Aristotle saith,
those things which in themselves are horrible, as cruel battailes,
unnatural monsters, are made in poeticall imitation, delightfull {67}. Truly I have known men, that even with reading Amadis de
gaule{68}, which God knoweth, wanteth much of a
perfect Poesie, have found their hearts moved to the exercise of
courtesie, liberalitie, and especially courage. Who readeth Aeneas
carrying old Anchises on his backe {69}, that wisheth
not it were his fortune to performe so excellent an Act? Whom doth not
those words of Turnus moove, (the Tale of Turnus having planted his image
in the imagination) fugientam haec terra videbit? Usqueadeone mori miserum
est {70}? Wher the Philosophers as they think scorne
to delight, so must they be content little to moove; saving wrangling
whether Virtus be the chiefe or the onely good; whether the contemplative
or the active life do excell; which Plato and Poetius {71} well knew: and therefore made mistresse Philosophie very
often borrow the masking raiment of Poesie. For even those hard hearted
evill men who thinke vertue a schoole name, and know no other good but
indulgere genio {72}, and therefore despise the
austere admonitions of the Philosopher, and feele not the inward reason
they stand upon, yet will be content to be delighted, which is all the
good, fellow Poet seemes to promise; and so steale to see the form of
goodnes, (which seene, they cannot but love) ere themseves be aware, as if
they tooke a medicine of Cheries. Infinit proofes of the straunge effects
of this Poeticall invention, might be alleaged: onely two shall serve,
which are so often remembered, as I thinke all men know them. The oone of
Menemus Agrippa {73}, who when the whole people of
Rome had resolutely divided themselves from the Senate, with apparent shew
of utter ruine, though he were for that time an excellent Orator, came not
among them upon trust either of figurative speeches, or cunning
insinuations, and much lesse with farre set Maximes of Philosophie, which
especially if they were Platonike, they must have learned Geometrie
before
they could well have conceived: but forsooth, he behaveth himselfe like a
homely and familiar Poet. He telleth them a tale, that there was a time,
when all the parts of the bodie made a mutinous conspiracie against the
belly, which they thought devoured the frutes of each others labour: they
concluded that they would let so unprofitable a spender starve. In the
end, to be short, for the tale is notorious, and as notorious that it was
a tale, with punishing the belly they plagued themselves; this applied by
him, wrought such effect in the people, as I never red, that onely words
brought foorth: but then so sudden and so good an alteration, for upon
reasonable conditions, a perfect reconcilement ensued. The other is of
Nathan the Prophet {74}, who when the holy David, had
so farre forsaken God, as to confirme Adulterie with murther, when he was
to do the tendrest office of a friend, in laying his owne shame before his
eyes; sent by God to call againe so chosen a servant, how doth he it? but
by telling of a man whose beloved lambe was ungratefully taken from his
bosome. The Application most divinely true, but the discourse it selfe
fained; which made David (I speake of the second and instrumentall cause)
as in a glasse see his owne filthinesse as that heavenly Psalme of
mercie {75} well testifieth. By these therefore
examples and reasons, I thinke it may be manifest, that the Poet with that
same hand of delight, doth draw the mind more effectually then any other
Art doth. And so a conclusion not unfitly ensue, that as vertue is the
most excellent resting place for al worldly learning to make his end of,
so Poetry being the
most familiar to teach it, and most Princely to move
towards it, in the most excellent worke, is the most excellent workeman.
But I am content not onely to decipher him by his workes (although workes
in commendation and dispraise, must ever hold a high authoritie) but more
narrowly will examine his parts, so that (as in a man) though altogither
may carrie a presence full of majestie and bewtie, perchanve in some one
defectuous peece we may finde blemish: Now in his parts, kindes, or
species, as you list to tearme them, it is to be noted that some Poesies
have coupled togither two or three kindes, as the Tragicall and Comicall,
whereupon is risen the Tragicomicall, some in the manner have mingled
prose and verse, as Sanazara {76} and Boetius {77}; some have mingled matters Heroicall and Pastorall,
but that commeth all to one in this question, for if severed they be good,
the conjunction cannot be hurtfull: therefore perchance forgetting some,
and leaving some as needlesse to be remembered. It shall not be amisse, in
a word to cite the speciall kindes, to see what faults may be found in the
right use of them. Is it then the Pastorall Poeme which is misliked? (For
perchance where the hedge is lowest they will soonest leape over) is the
poore pipe disdained, which sometimes out of Moelibeus{78} mouth, can shewe the miserie of people, under hard Lords
and ravening souldiers? And again by Titerus, what blessednesse is
derived, to them that lie lowest, from the goodnesse of them that sit
highest? Sometimes under the prettie tales of Woolves and sheepe, can
enclude the whole considerations of wrong doing
and patience; sometimes
shew that contentions for trifles, can get but a trifling victory, wher
perchance a man may see, that even Alexander & Darius, when they
strave who should be Cocke of this worldes dunghill, the benefit they got,
was, that the afterlivers may say, Haec memini & victum frustra
contendere Thirsim. Ex illo Coridon, Coridon est tempore nobis {79}. Or is it the lamenting Elegiack, which in a kinde heart
would moove rather pittie then blame, who bewaileth with the great
Philosopher Heraclitus; the weaknesse of mankinde, and the wretchednesse
of the world: who surely is to bee praised either for compassionate
accompanying just causes of lamentations, or for rightlie painting out how
weake be the passions of woefulnesse? Is it the bitter but wholesome
Iambick{80}, who rubbes the galled minde, in making
shame the Trumpet of villanie, with bolde and open crying out against
naughtinesse? Or the Satirick, who Omne vafer vitium ridenti tangit
amico {81}, who sportingly, never leaveth, till he
make a man laugh at follie; and at length ashamed, to laugh at himself;
which he cannot avoyde, without avoyding the follie? who while Circum
praecordia ludit {82}, giveth us to feele how many
headaches a passionate life bringeth us to? How when all is done, Est
Ulubris animus si nos non deficit aequus {83}. No
perchance it is the Comick, whom naughtie Play-makers and stage-keepers,
have justly made odious. To the arguments of abuse, I will after answer,
onely thus much now is to be said, that the Comedy is an imitation of the
common errors of our life, which he representeth in the most ridiculous
& scornfull sort that may be: so as it is impossible that any beholder
can be content to be such a one. Now as in Geometrie, the oblique must be
knowne as well as the right, and in Arithmetick, the odde as well as the
even, so in the actions of our life, who seeth not the filthinesse of
evill, wanteth a great foile to perceive the bewtie of vertue. This doth
the Comaedie handle so in our private and domesticall matters, as with
hearing it, wee get as it were an experience what is to be looked for of a
niggardly Demea, of a crafty Davus, of a flattering Gnato, of a vain-glorious Thraso {84} and not onely to know what
effects are to be expected, but to know who be such, by the signifying
badge given them by the Comaedient. And little reason hath any man to say,
that men learne the evill by seeing it so set out, since as I said before,
there is no man living, but by the force truth hath in nature, no sooner
seeth these men play their parts, but wisheth them in Pistrinum {85}, athough perchance the lack of his owne faults lie so
behinde his backe, that he seeth not himselfe to dance the same measure:
whereto yet nothing can more open his eies, then to see his owne actions
contemptibly set forth. So that the right use of Comaedie, will I thinke,
by no bodie be blamed; and much lesse of the high and excellent Tragedie,
that openeth the greatest woundes, and sheweth forth the Ulcers that are
covered with Tissue, that maketh Kings feare to be Tyrants, and Tyrants
manifest their tyrannicall humours, that with stirring the affects of
Admiration and Comiseration, teacheth the uncertaintie of this world, and
uppon how weak foundations guilden roofes are builded:
that maketh us
know, Qui sceptra Saevus duro imperio regit, Timet timentes, metus in
authorem redit{86}. But how much it can move,
Plutarch yeeldeth a notable testimonie of the abhominable Tyrant Alexander
Pheraeus{87}, from whose eyes a Tragedie well made
and represented, drew abundance of teares, who without all pittie had
murthered infinite numbers, and some of his owne bloud: so as he that was
not ashamed to make matters for Tragedies, yet could not resist the sweete
violence of a Tragedie. And if it wrought no further good in him, it was,
that in despight of himself, withdrew himselfe form hearkening to that
which might mollifie his hard heart. But it is not the Tragedie they doe
mislike, for it were too absurd to cast out so excellent a representation
of whatsoever is most woothie to be learned. Is it the Lyricke that most
displeaseth, who with his tuned Lyre and well accorded voice, giveth
praise, the reward of vertue, to vertuous acts? who giveth morall
preceptes and naturall Problemes, who sometimes raiseth up his voyce to
the height of the heavens, in singing the laudes of the immortall God?
Certainly I must confesse mine owne barbarousnesse, I never heard the old
Song of Percy and Duglas{88}, that I founde not my
heart mooved more than with a Trumpet; and yet is it sung but by some
blinde Crowder{89}, with no rougher voyce, then rude
stile: which being so evill apparelled in the dust and Cobwebbes of that
uncivill age, what would it worke, trimmed in the gorgeous eloquence of
Pindar? In Hungarie I have seene it the manner at all Feastes and
other
such like meetings, to have songs of their ancestors valure, which that
right souldierlike nation, think one of the chiefest kindlers of brave
courage. The incomparable Lacedemonians, did not onelie carrie that kinde
of Musicke ever with them to the field, but even at home, as such songs
were made, so were they all content to be singers of them: when the lustie
men were to tell what they did, the old men what they had done, and the
yoong what they would doo. And where a man may say that Pindare many
times praiseth highly Victories of small moment, rather matters of sport
then vertue, as it may be answered, it was the fault of the Poet, and not
of the Poetrie; so indeed the chiefe fault was, in the time and custome of
the Greekes, who set those toyes at so high a price, that Philip of
Macedon reckoned a horse-race wonne at Olympus, among his three fearfull
felicities. But as the unimitable Pindare often did, so is that kind most
capable and most fit, to awake the thoughts from the sleepe of idlenesse,
to embrace honourable enterprises. Their rests the Heroicall, whose verie
name I thinke should daunt all backbiters. For by what conceit can a
tongue bee directed to speake evil of that which draweth with him no lesse
champions then Achilles, Cirus, Aeneas, Turnus, Tideus {90}, Rinaldo{91}, who doeth not onely
teache and moove to a truth, but teacheth and mooveth to the most high and
excellent truth: who maketh magnanimitie and justice, shine through all
mistie fearfulnesse and foggie desires. Who if the saying
of Plato and
Tully {92} bee true, that who could see vertue,
woulde be woonderfullie ravished with the love of her bewtie. This man
setteth her out to make her more lovely in her holliday apparell, to the
eye of anie that will daine, not to disdaine untill they understand. But
if any thing be alreadie said in the defence of sweete Poetrie, all
concurreth to the mainteining the Heroicall, which is not onlie a kinde,
but the best and most accomplished kindes of Poetrie. For as the Image of
each Action stirreth and instructeth the minde, so the loftie Image of
such woorthies, moste enflameth the minde with desire to bee woorthie: and
enformes with counsaile how to bee woorthie. Onely let Aeneas bee worne in
the Tablet of your memorie, how hee governeth himselfe in the ruine of his
Countrey, in the preserving his olde Father, and carrying away his
religious Ceremonies, in obeying Gods Commaundment, to leave Dido, though
not onelie all passionate kindeness, not even the humane consideration of
vertuous gratefulnesse, would have craved other of him: how in stormes,
how in sports, how in warre, how in peace, how a fugitive, how victorious,
how besieged, how beseiging, how to straungers, how to Allies, how to
enemies, how to his owne. Lastly, how in his inwarde selfe, and how in his
outwarde government, and I thinke in a minde moste prejudiced with a
prejudicating humour, Hee will bee founde in excellencie fruitefull. Yea
as Horace saith, Melius Chrisippo & Crantore {93}: but truly I imagin it falleth out with these
Poet-whippers, as with some good women who often are sicke, but in faith
they cannot tel where. So the name of Poetrie is odious to them, but
neither his cause nor effects, neither the summe that containes him, nor
the particularities descending from him, give any fast handle to their
carping dispraise. Since then Poetrie is of all humane learnings the most
ancient, and of most fatherly antiquitie, as from whence other learnings
have taken their beginnings; Since it is so universall, that no learned
nation doth despise it, nor barbarous nation is without it; Since both
Romane & Greeke gave such divine names unto it, the one of
prophesying, the other of making; and that indeed the name of making is
fit for him, considering, that where all other Arts retain themselves
within their subject, and receive as it were their being from it. The Poet
onely, onely bringeth his owne stuffe, and doth not learn a Conceit out of
a matter, but maketh matter for a Conceit. Since neither his description,
nor end, containing any evill, the thing described cannot be evil; since
his effects be so good as to teach goodnes, and delight the learners of
it; since therein (namely in morall doctrine the chiefe of all
knowledges) hee doth not onely farre pass the Historian, but for
instructing is well nigh comparable to the Philosopher, for moving,
leaveth him behind him. Since the holy scripture (wherein there is no
uncleannesse) hath whole parts in it Poeticall, and that even our Savior
Christ vouchsafed to use the flowers of it: since all his kindes are not
only in their united formes, but in their severed dissections fully
commendable, I thinke, (and thinke I thinke rightly) the Lawrell Crowne
appointed for triumphant Captaines, doth worthily of all other learnings,
honour the Poets triumph. But bicause we have eares as well as toongs, and
that the lightest reasons that may be, will seeme to waigh greatly, if
nothing be put in the counterballance, let us heare, and as well as we
can, ponder what objections be made against this Art, which may be
woorthie either of yeelding, or answering. First truly I note, not onely
in these mysomousoi, Poet-haters, but in all that kind of people who seek
a praise, by dispraising others, that they do prodigally spend a great
many wandring words in quips and scoffes, carping and taunting at each
thing, which by sturring the spleene, may staie the brain from a
th[o]rough beholding the worthinesse of the subject. Those kind of
objections, as they are full of a verie idle easinesse, since there is
nothing of so sacred a majestie, but that an itching toong may rub it
selfe upon it, so deserve they no other answer, but in steed of laughing
at the jeast, to laugh at the jeaster. We know a playing wit can praise
the discretion of an Asse, the comfortablenes of being in debt, and the
jolly commodities of being sicke of the plague. So of the contrary side,
if we will turne Ovids verse, Ut lateat virtus, prox imitate mali
{94}, that good lye hid, in nearnesse of the
evill. Agrippa {95} will be as mery in shewing the vanitie
of Science,
as Erasmus was in the commending of folly: neither shal any man or matter,
escape some touch of these smiling Raylers. But for Erasmus and Agrippa,
they had an other foundation then the superficiall part would promise.
Marry these other pleasaunt fault-finders, who will correct the Verbe,
before they understande the Nowne, and confute others knowledge, before
they confirme their owne, I would have them onely remember, that scoffing
commeth not of wisedome; so as the best title in true English they get
with their meriments, is to be called good fooles: for so have our grave
forefathers ever tearmed that humorous kinde of jesters. But that which
giveth greatest scope to their scorning humor, is ryming and versing. It
is alreadie said (and as I thinke truly said) it is not ryming and versing
that maketh Poesie: One may be a Poet without versing, and a versefier
without Poetrie. But yet presuppose it were inseperable, as indeed it
seemeth Scalliger{96} judgeth truly, it were an
inseperable commendation. For if Oratio, next to Ratio, Speech next to
Reason{97}, be the greatest gift bestowed upon
Mortalitie, that cannot bee praiseless, which doth most polish that
blessing of speech; which considereth each word not onely as a man may say
by his forcible qualitie, but by his best measured quantity: carrying even
in themselves a Harmonie, without perchance number, measure, order,
proportion, be in our time growne odious. But laie aside the just praise
it hath, by being the onely fit speech for Musicke, (Musicke I say the
most divine striker of the senses) Thus much is undoubtedly true, that if
reading be foolish without remembring, Memorie being the onely treasure of
knowledge, those words which are fittest for memory, are likewise most
convenient for knowledge. Now that Verse far exceedeth
Prose, in the
knitting up of the memorie, the reason is manifest, the words (besides
their delight, which hath a great affinitie to memorie) being so set as
one cannot be lost, but the whole woorke failes: which accusing it selfe,
calleth the remembrance back to it selfe, and so most strongly confirmeth
it. Besides one word, so as it were begetting an other, as be it in rime
or measured verse, by the former a man shall have a neare gesse to the
follower. Lastly even they that have taught the Art of memory, have shewed
nothing so apt for it, as a certain roome divided into many places, well
& thoroughly knowne: Now that hath the verse in effect perfectly,
everie word having his natural seat, which must needs make the word
remembred. But what needes more in a thing so knowne to all men. Who is it
that ever was scholler, that doth not carry away som verse of Virgil,
Horace, or Cato, which in his youth hee learned, and even to his old age
serve him for hourely lessons; as Percontatorem fugito nam garrulus idem
est, Dum tibi quisq; placet credula turba sumas{98}.
But the fitnes it hath for memorie, is notably prooved by all deliverie of
Arts, wherein for the most part, from Grammer, to Logick, Mathematickes,
Physick, and the rest, the Rules chiefly necessa[r]ie to be borne away,
are compiled in verses. So that verse being in it selfe sweet and orderly,
and being best for memorie, the onely handle of knowledge, it must be in
jest that any man can speak against it. Now then goe we to the most
important imputations laid to the poore Poets, for ought I can yet learne,
they are these. First, that there beeing manie other more frutefull
knowledges, a man might better spend his time in them, then in this.
Secondly, that it is the mother of lyes. Thirdly, that it is the nurse of
abuse, infecting us with many pestilent desires, with a Sirens sweetnesse,
drawing the minde to the Serpents taile of sinfull fansies; and herein
especially Comedies give the largest field to eare {99}, as Chawcer saith, how both in other nations and in ours,
before Poets did soften us, we were full of courage given to martial
exercises, the pillers of man-like libertie, and not lulled a sleepe in
shadie idlenes, with Poets pastimes. And lastly and chiefly, they cry out
with open mouth as if they had shot Robin-hood, that Plato banisheth them
out of his Commonwealth{100}. Truly this is much,
if there be much truth in it. First to the first. That a man might better
spend his time, is a reason indeed: but it doth as they say, but petere
principium {101}. For if it be, as I affirme, that
no learning is so good, as that which teacheth and moveth to vertue, and
that none can both teach and move thereto so much as Poesie, then is the
conclusion manifest; that incke and paper cannot be to a more profitable
purpose imployed. And certainly though a man should graunt their first
assumption, it should follow (mee thinks) very unwillingly, that good is
not good, because better is better. But I still and utterly deny, that
there is sprung out of the earth a more fruitfull knowledge. To the second
therfore, that they should be the principall lyers, I answere
Paradoxically, but truly, I think truly: that of
all writers under the Sunne, the Poet is the least lyer: and though he
wold, as a Poet can scarecely be a lyer. The Astronomer with his cousin
the Geometrician, can
hardly escape, when they take upon them to
measure
the height of the starres. How often thinke you do the Phisitians lie,
when they averre things good for sicknesses, which afterwards send
Charon{102} a great number of soules drowned in a
potion, before they come to his Ferrie? And no lesse of the rest, which
take upon them to affirme. Now for the Poet, he nothing affirmeth, and
therefore never lieth: for as I take it, to lie, is to affirme that to bee
true, which is false. So as the other Artistes, and especially the
Historian, affirming manie things, can in the clowdie knowledge of
mankinde, hardly escape from manie lies. But the Poet as I said before,
never affirmeth, the Poet never maketh any Circles about your
imagination{103}, to conjure you to beleeve for
true, what he writeth: he citeth not authorities of other histories, even
for his entrie, calleth the sweete Muses to inspire unto him a good
invention. In troth, not laboring to tel you what is, or is not, but what
should, or should not be. And therefore though he recount things not true,
yet because he telleth them not for true, he lieth not: without we will
say, that Nathan lied in his speech before alleaged to David, which as a
wicked man durst scarce say, so think I none so simple, wold say, that
Esope lied, in the tales of his beasts: for who thinketh Esope wrote it
for actually true, were wel wothie to have his name Cronicled among the
beasts he writeth of. What childe is there, that comming to a play, and
seeing Thebes written in great letters upon an old Doore, doth beleeve
that it is Thebes? If then a man can arrive to the childes age, to know
that the Poets persons and dooings, are but pictures, what should be, and
not stories what have bin, they will never give the lie to things not
Affirmatively, but Allegorically and figuratively written; and therefore
as in historie looking for truth, they may go away full fraught with
falshood: So in Poesie, looking but for fiction, they shall use the
narration but as an imaginative groundplat of a profitable invention. But
hereto is replied, that the Poets give names to men they write of, which
argueth a conceit of an actuall truth, and so not being true, prooveth a
falshood. And dooth the Lawier lye, then when under the names of John of
the Stile, and John of the Nokes, hee putteth his Case? But that is easily
answered, their naming of men, is but to make their picture the more
lively, and not to build anie Historie. Painting men, they cannot leave
men namelesse: wee see, wee cannot plaie at Chestes, but that wee must
give names to our Chessemen; and yet mee thinkes he were a verie partiall
Champion of truth, that would say wee lyed, for giving a peece of wood the
reverende title of a Bishop. The Poet nameth Cyrus and Aeneas, no other
way, then to shewe what men of their fames, fortunes, and estates, should
doo. Their third is, how much it abuseth mens wit, training it to wanton
sinfulnesse, and lustfull love. For indeed that is the principall if not
onely abuse, I can heare alleadged. They say the Comedies rather teach
then reprehend amorous conceits. They say the Lirick is larded with
passionat Sonets, the Elegiack weeps the want of his mistresse, and that
even to the Heroical, Cupid hath ambitiously climed. Alas Love, I would
thou couldest as wel defend thy selfe, as thou canst offend others: I
would those on whom thou doest attend, could either put thee away, or
yeeld good reason why they keepe thee. But grant love of bewtie to be a
beastly fault, although it be verie hard, since onely man and no beast
hath that gift to discerne bewtie, graunt that lovely name of love to
deserve all hatefull reproches, although even some of my maisters the
Philosophers spent a good deale of their Lampoyle in setting foorth the
excellencie of it, graunt I say, what they will have graunted, that not
onelie love, but lust, but vanitie, but if they will list scurrilitie,
possesse manie leaves of the Poets bookes, yet thinke I, when this is
graunted, they will finde their sentence may with good manners put the
last words foremost; and not say, that Poetrie abuseth mans wit, but that
mans wit abuseth Poetrie. For I will not denie, but that mans wit may make
Poesie, which should be eikastike{104}, which some
learned have defined figuring foorth good things to be phantastike{105}, which doth contrariwise infect the fancie with
unwoorthie objects, as the Painter should give to the eye either some
excellent perspective, or some fine Picture fit for building or
fortification, or containing in it some notable example, as Abraham
sacrificing his sonne Isaack{106}, Judith killing
Holofernes{107}, David fighting with Golias{108}, may leave those, and please an ill pleased eye with
wanton shewes of better hidden matters. But what, shal the abuse of a
thing, make the right use odious? Nay truly though
I yeeld that Poesie
may
not onely be abused, but that being abused it can do more hurt then anie
other armie of words: yet shall it be so farre from concluding, that the
abuse should give reproach to the abused, that contrariwise, it is a good
reason, that whatsoever being abused, doth most harme, being rightly used
(and upon the right use, ech thing receives his title) doth most good. Do
we not see skill of Phisicke the best ramper to our often assaulted
bodies, being abused, teach poyon the most violent destroyer? Doth not
knowledge of Law, whose end is, to even & right all things, being
abused, grow the crooked fosterer of horrible injuries? Doth not (to go to
the highest) Gods word abused, breed heresie, and his name abused, become
blasphemie? Truly a Needle cannot do much hurt, and as truly (with leave
of Ladies be it spoken) it cannot do much good. With a swoord thou maist
kill thy Father, and with a swoord thou maist defende the Prince and
Countrey: so that, as in their calling Poets, fathers of lies, they said
nothing, so in this their argument of abuse, they proove the commendation.
They alledge herewith, that before Poets began to be in price, our Nation
had set their hearts delight uppon action, and not imagination, rather
doing things worthie to be written, then writing things fit to be done.
What that before times was, I think scarcely Sp[h]inx can tell, since no
memorie is so ancient, that hath not the precedens of Poetrie. And certain
it is, that in our plainest homelines, yet never was the Albion
Nation {109} without Poetrie. Marry this Argument, though
it
be leviled against Poetrie, yet is it indeed a
chain-shot {110} against all learning or bookishnes, as they commonly
terme it. Of such mind were certaine Gothes, of whom it is written{111}, that having in the spoile of a famous Cittie, taken
a faire Librarie, one hangman belike fit to execute the frutes of their
wits, who had murthered a great number of bodies, woulde have set fire in
it. No said an other verie gravely, take heed what you do, for while they
are busie about those toyes, wee shall with more leisure conqure their
Countries. This indeed is the ordinarie doctrine of ignorance, and many
words sometimes I have heard spent in it: but bicause this reason is
generally against al learning, as well as Poetrie, or rather all learning
but Poetrie, because it were too great a digression to handle it, or at
least too superfluous, since it is manifest that all government of action
is to be gotten by knowledge, and knowledge best, by gathering manie
knowledges, which is reading; I onlely with Horace, to him that is of that
opinion, jubeo stultum esse libenter{112}, for as
for Poetrie it selfe, it is the freest from this objection, for Poetrie is
the Companion of Camps. I dare undertake, Orlando Furioso, or honest king
Arthure, will never displease a souldier: but the quidditie of Ens &
Prima materia, will hardly agree with a Corcelet{113}. And therefore as I said in the beginning, even Turkes
and Tartars, are delighted with Poets. Homer a Greeke, flourished, before
Greece flourished: and if to a slight conjecture, a conjecture may bee
apposed, truly it may seem, that as by him their learned men tooke almost
their first light of knowledge, so their active men, received their first
motions of courage. Onely Alexanders example may serve, who by
Plutarche
is accounted of such vertue, that fortune was not his guide, but his
footestoole, whose Acts speake for him, though Plutarche did not: indeede
the Phoenix of warlike Princes. This Alexander, left his schoolemaister
living Aritotle behinde him, but tooke dead Homer with him. Hee put the
Philosopher Callithenes to death, for his seeming Philosophicall, indeed
mutinous stubbornnesse, but the chiefe thing hee was ever heard to wish
for, was, that Homer had bene alive. Hee well founde hee received more
braverie of minde by the paterne of Achilles, then by hearing the
definition of fortitude. And therefore if Cato misliked Fulvius for
carrying Ennius with him to the field {114}, It may
be answered, that if Cato misliked it, the Noble Fulvius liked it, or else
he had not done it, for it was not the excellent Cato Uticencis {115}, whose authoritie I would much more have reverenced:
But it was the former, in truth a bitter punisher of faultes, but else a
man that had never sacrificed to the Graces. He misliked and cried out
against all Greeke learning, and yet being foure score yeares olde began
to learne it, belike fearing that Pluto{116}
understood not Latine. Indeed the Romane lawes allowed no person to bee to
the warres, but hee that was in the souldiers Role. And therefore though
Cato misliked his unmustred person, he misliked not his worke. And if hee
had, Scipio Nasica, (judged by common consent the best Romane) loved him:
both the other Scipio brothers, who had by their vertues no lesse
surnames
then of Asia and Afficke, so loved him, that they caused his{117} bodie to be buried in their Sepulture. So as Catoes
authoritie beeing but against his person, and that answered with so farre
greater then himselfe, is herein of no validitie. But now indeede my
burthen is great, that Plato his name is laide uppon me, whom I must
confessse of all Philosophers, I have ever esteemed most worthie of
reverence; and with good reason, since of all Philosophers hee is the most
Poeticall: yet if hee will defile the fountain out of which his flowing
streames have proceeded, let us boldly examine with what reasons hee did
it. First truly a man might maliciously object, that Plato being a
Philosopher, was a naturall enemy of Poets. For indeede after the
Philosophers had picked out of the sweete misteries of Poetrie, the right
discerning true points of knowledge: they forthwith putting it in methode,
and making a Schoole Art of that which the Poets did onely teach by a
divine delightfulnes, beginning to spurne at their guides, like
ungratefull Prentices, were not content to set up shop for themselves, but
sought by all meanes to discredit their maisters, which by the force of
delight being barred them, the lesse they could overthrow them, the more
they hated them. For indeed they found for Homer, seven cities, strave who
should have him for their Cittizen, where so many Cities banished
Philosophers, as not fit members to live among them. For onely repeating
certaine of Euripides verses, many Atheniens had their lives saved of the
Siracusans{118}, where the Atheniens themseves
thought many Philosophers unworthie to live. Certaine Poets, as
Simonides,
and Pindarus, had so prevailed with Hiero the first, that of a Tyrant they
made him a just King{119}: where Plato could do so
little with Dionisius, that he himselfe of a Philosopher, was made a
slave{120}. But who should do thus, I confesse
should requite the objections made against Poets, with like cavilations
against Philosophers: as likewise one should do, that should bid one read
Phaedrus or Simposium in Plato, or the discourse of love in
Plutarch{121}, and see whether any Poet do authorise
abhominable filthinesse as they doo. Againe, a man might aske, out of what
Common-wealth Plato doth banish them, in sooth, thence where himselfe
alloweth communitie of women{122}. So as belike
this banishment grew not for effeminate wantonnesse, since little should
Poetical Sonnets be hurtful, when a man might have what woman he listed.
But I honor Philosophicall instructions, and blesse the wits which bred
them: so as they be not abused, which is likewise stretched to Poetrie.
S. Paul himselfe{123} sets a watch-word uppon
Philosophie{124}, indeed upon the abuse. So doth
PLato uppon the abuse, not upon Poetrie. Plato found fault that the
Poettes of his time, filled the worlde with wr[o]ng opinions of the Gods,
making light tales of that unspotted essence; and therfore wold not have
the youth depraved with such opinions: heerein may much be said; let this
suffice. The Poets did not induce such opinions, but did imitate those
opinions alreadie induced. For all the Greeke stories can well testifie,
that the verie religion of that time, stood upon many, and many fashioned
Gods: Not taught so by Poets, but followed according to their nature of
imitation. Who list may read in Plutarch, the discourses of Isis and
Osiris, and of the cause why Oracles ceased, of the divine providence,
& see whether the Theology of that nation, stood not upon such dreams,
which the Poets indeede superstitiously observed. And truly since they had
not the light of Christ, did much better in it, then the Philosophers, who
shaking off superstition, brought in Atheisme. Plato therfore, whose
authoritie, I had much rather justly consture, then unjustly resist: ment
not in generall of Poets, in those words of which Julius Scaliger saith;
Qua authoritate barbari quidam atq; hispidi abuti velint ad poetas e rep.
Exigendos{125}. But only ment to drive out those
wrong opinions of the Deitie: wherof now without further law,
Christianitie hath taken away all the hurtfull beliefe, perchance as he
thought nourished by then esteemed Poets. And a man need go no further
then to Plato himselfe to knowe his meaning: who in his Dialogue called
Ion, giveth high, and rightly, divine commendation unto Poetrie. So as
Plato banisheth the abuse, not the thing, not banishing it, but giving due
honour to it, shall be our Patron, and not our adversarie. For indeed, I
had much rather, since truly I may do it, shew their mistaking of Plato,
under whose Lyons skinne, they would make an Aslike braying{126} against Poesie, then go about to overthrow his
authoritie; whome the wiser a man is, the more just cause he shall finde
to have in admiration: especially since he attibuteth unto Poesie, more
then my selfe do; namely, to be a verie inspiring of a divine force, farre
above mans wit, as in the forenamed Dialogue is apparant. Of the other
side, who would shew the honours have bene by the best sort of judgements
graunted them, a whole sea of examples woulde present themselves;
Alexanders, Caesars, Scipioes, all favourers of Poets: Laelius, called the
Romane Socrates himselfe a Poet; so as part of Heautontimoroumenon{127} in Terence, was supposed to bee made by him. And even
the Greeke Socrates, whome Appollo confirmed to bee the onely wise man, is
said to have spent part of his olde time in putting Esopes Fables into
verses. And therefore full evill should it become his scholler Plato, to
put such words in his maisters mouth against Poets. But what needs more?
Aristotle writes of the Arte of Poesie, and why, if it should not bee
written? Plutarche teacheth the use to bee gathered of them, and how, if
they should not bee reade? And who reades Plutarches either Historie or
Philosophie, shall finde hee trimmeth both their garments with gardes of
Poesie. But I list not to defend Poesie with the helpe of his underling
Historiographie. Let it suffice to have shewed, it is a fit soyle for
praise to dwell uppon; and what dispraise may set uppon it, is either
easily overcome, or transformed into just commendation. So that since the
excellencies of it, may bee so easily and so justly confirmed, and the
lowe creeping objections so soone trodden downe, it not beeing an Art of
lyes, but of true doctrine; not of effoeminatenesse, but of notable
stirring of courage; not of abusing mans wit; but of strengthening mans
wit; not banished, but honored by Plato; Let us rather plant more
Lawrels
for to ingarland the Poets heads (which honor of being Lawreate, as
besides them onely triumphant Captaines were, is a sufficient authoritie
to shewe the price they ought to bee held in) then suffer the ill favoured
breath of such wrong speakers once to blow uppon the cleare springs of
Poesie. But sice I have runne so long a Carrier in this matter, me thinkes
before I give my penne a full stoppe, it shall be but a little more lost
time, to enquire why England the Mother of excellent mindes should be
growne so hard a stepmother to Poets, who certainely in wit ought to passe
all others, since all onely proceeds from their wit, beeing indeed makers
of themselves, not takers of others. How can I but exclaime. Musa mihi
causas memoria quo numine laeso{128}. Sweete Poesie
that hath aunciently had Kings, Emperours, Senatours, great Captaines,
such as besides a thousandes others, David, Adrian, Sophocles,
Germanicus{129}, not onelie to favour Poets, but to
bee Poets: and of our nearer times, can present for her Patrons, a Robert
King of Scicill {130}, the great King Fraunces of
Fraunce {131}, King James of Scotland {132}; such Cardinalls as Bembus {133}, and Bibiena{134}; suche famous
Preachers and Teachers, as Beza{135} and
Melanchthon{136}; so learned Philosophers as
Fracastorius{137}, and Scaliger{138}; so great Orators, as Pontanus{139}, and Muretus{140}; so pearcing
wits, as George Buchanan{141}; so grave
Counsailours, as besides manie, but before all, that Hospitall of
Fraunce{142}; then whome I thinke that Realme never
brought forth a more accomplished Judgement, more firmly builded upon
vertue: I say these with numbers of others, not onely to read others
Poesies, but to poetise for others reading; that Poesie thus embraced in
all other places, should onely finde in our time a hard welcome in
England. I thinke the verie earth laments it, and therefore deckes our
soyle with fewer Lawrels then it was accustomed. For heretofore, Poets
have in England also flourished: and which is to be noted, even in those
times when the trumpet of Mars did sonnd lowdest. And now that an over
faint quietnesse should seeme to strowe the house for Poets. They are
almost in as good reputation, as the Mountebanckes at Venice. Truly even
that, as of the one side it giveth great praise to Poesie, which like
Venus (but to better purpose) had rather be troubled in the net with Mars,
then enjoy the homely quiet of Vulcan{143}. So
serveth it for a peece of a reason, why they are lesse gratefull to idle
England, which now can scarce endure the paine of a penne. Upon this
necessarily followeth, that base men with sevill wits undertake it, who
thinke it inough if they can be rewarded of the Printer: and so as
Epaminandas is said with the honor of his vertue to have made an Office,
by his execising it, which before was contemtible, to become highly
respected{144}: so these men no more but setting
their names to it, by their own disgracefulnesse, disgrace the most
gracefull Poesie. For now as if all the Muses were got with childe, to
bring forth bastard Poets: without any commission, they do passe over the
Bankes of the Helicon{145}, till they make the
Readers more wearie then Post-horses: while in the meane
time, they
Queis
meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan{146}, are
better content to suppresse the out-flowings of their wit, then by
publishing them, to be accounted Knights of the same order. But I that
before ever I durst aspire unto the dignitie, am admitted into the
companie of the Paper-blurrers, do finde the verie true cause of our
wanting estimation, is want of desert, taking uppon us to be Poets, in
despite of Pallas. Now wherein we want desert, were a thankwoorthie labour
to expresse. But if I knew I should have mended my selfe, but as I never
desired the title, so have I neglected the meanes to come by it, onely
over-mastered by some thoughts, I yeelded an inckie tribute unto them.
Marrie they that delight in Poesie it selfe, should seek to know what they
do, and how they do: and especially looke themselves in an unflattering
glasse of reason, if they be enclinable unto it. For Poesie must not be
drawne by the eares, it must be gently led, or rather it must lead, which
was partly the cause that made the auncient learned affirme, it was a
divine gift & no humane skil; since all other knowledges lie readie
for anie that have strength of wit: A Poet no industrie can make, if his
owne Genius be not carried into it. And therefore is an old Proverbe,
Orator fit, Poeta nascitur{147}. Yet confesse I
alwaies, that as the fertilest ground must be manured{148}, so must the highest flying wit have a Dedalus{149} to guide him. That Dedalus they say both in this and in
other, hath three wrings to beare itself up into the aire of due
commendation: that is Art, Imitation, and Exercise. But these neither
Artificall Rules, nor imitative paternes, we much comber
our selves
withall. Exercise indeed we do, but that verie fore-backwardly; for where
we should exercise to know, we exercise as having knowne: and so is our
braine delivered of much matter, which never was begotten by knowledge.
For there being two principall parts, Matter to be expressed by words, and
words to expresse the matter: In neither, wee use Art or imitation
rightly. Our matter is, Quodlibet{150}, indeed
though wrongly performing, Ovids Verse. Quicquid conabar dicere, Versus
erit{151}: never marshalling it into anie assured
ranck, that almost the Readers cannot tell where to finde themselves.
Chawcer undoubtedly did excellently in his Troilus and Creseid: of whome
trulie I knowe not whether to mervaile more, either that hee in that
mistie time could see so clearly, or that wee in this cleare age, goe so
stumblingly after him. Yet had hee great wants, fit to be forgiven in so
reverent an Antiquitie. I account the Mirrour of Magistrates{152}, meetly furnished of bewtiful partes. And in the Earle
of Surreis Lirickes, manie thinges tasting of a Noble birth, and worthie
of a Noble minde{153}. The Sheepheards Kalender,
hath much Poetrie in his Egloges, indeed woothie the reading, if I be not
deceived. That same framing of his style to an old rusticke language, I
dare not allow: since neither Theocritus in Greeke, Virgill in Latine, nor
Sanazara in Italian, did affect it{154}. Besides
these, I doo not remember to have seene but fewe (to speake boldly)
printed, that have poeticall sinnewes in them. For proofe whereof, let but
moste of the Verses
bee put in prose, and then aske the meaning, and it
will be founde, that one Verse did but beget an other, without ordering at
the first, what should bee at the last, which becomes a confused masse of
words, with a tingling sound of ryme, barely accompanied with reasons.
Our Tragidies and Commedies, not without cause cryed out against,
observing rules neither of honest civilitie, nor skilfull Poetrie.
Excepting Gorboducke{155}, (againe I say of those
that I have seen) which notwithstanding as it is full of stately speeches,
and wel sounding phrases, clyming to the height of Seneca his style, and
as full of notable morallitie, which it dooth most delightfully teach, and
so obtaine the verie ende of Poesie. Yet in truth, it is verie defectious
in the circumstaunces, which greeves mee, because it might not remaine as
an exact moddell of all Tragidies. For it is faultie both in place and
time, the two necessarie Companions of all corporall actions. For where
the Stage should alway represent but one place, and the uttermoste time
presupposed in it, should bee both by Aristotles{156} precept, and common reason, but one day; there is both
manie dayes and places, inartificially imagined. But if it bee so in
Gorboducke, howe much more in all the rest, where you shall have Asia of the one side, and Affricke
of the other,
and so mannie other under Kingdomes, that the Player when he comes in,
must ever begin with telling where he is, or else the tale will not be
conceived. Now you shall have three Ladies
walke to gather flowers, and then we must beleeve the stage to be a
garden. By and by we heare newes of shipwrack in the same place, then we
are too blame if we accept it not for a Rock. Upon the back of that,
comes out a hidious monster with fire and smoke, and then the miserable
beholders are bound to take it for a Cave: while in the meane time two
Armies flie in, represented with foure swords & bucklers, and then
what hard hart wil not receive it for a pitched field. Now of time, they
are much more liberall. For ordinarie it is, that two yoong Princes fall
in love, after many traverses she is got with childe, delivered of a faire
boy: he is lost, groweth a man, falleth in love, and is readie to get
another childe, and all this is in two houres space: which howe absurd it
is in sence, even sence may imagine: and Arte hath taught, and all
auncient examples justified, and at this day the ordinarie players in
Italie will not erre in. Yet will some bring in an example of Eunuche in
Terence{157}, that conteineth matter of two dayes,
yet far short of twentie yeares. True it is, and so was it to be played in
two dayes, and so fitted to the time it set foorth. And though Plautus
have in one place done amisse{158}, let us hit it
with him, & not misse with him. But they will say, how then shall we
set foorth a storie, which contains both many places, and many times? And
do they not know that a Tragidie is tied to the lawes of Poesie and not of
Historie: not bounde to follow the storie, but having libertie either to
faine a quite new matter, or to frame the Historie to the most Tragicall
conveniencie. Againe, many things may be told which cannot be
shewed: if
they know the difference betwixt reporting and representing. As for
example, I may speake though I am here, of Peru, and in speech digresse
from that, to the description of Calecut{159}: But
in action, I cannot represent it without Pacolets Horse{160}. And so was the manner the Auncients tooke, by some
Nuntius{161}, to recount things done in former time
or other place. Lastly, if they will represent an Historie, they must not
(as Horace saith) beginne ab ovo{162}, but they
must come to the principall poynte of that one action which they will
represent. By example this will be best expressed{163}. I have a storie of yoong Polidorus, delivered for
safeties sake with great riches, by his Father Priamus, to Polmimester
King of Thrace, in the Troyan warre time. He after some yeares, hearing
the overthrowe of Priamus, for to make the treasure his owne, murthereth
the Childe, the bodie of the Childe is taken up, Hecuba, shee the same
day, findeth a sleight to bee revenged moste cruelly of the Tyrant. Where
nowe would one of our Tragedie writers begin, but with the deliverie of
the Childe? Then should hee saile over into Thrace, and so spende I know
not how many yeares, and travaile numbers of places. But where dooth
Euripides? even with the finding of the bodie, the rest leaving to be told
by the spirite of Polidorus. This needes no futher to bee enlarged, the
dullest witte may conceive it. But besides these grosse absurdities, howe
all their Playes bee neither right Tragedies, nor right Comedies, mingling
Kinges and Clownes, not because the matter so carrieth it, but
thrust in
the Clowne by head and shoulders to play a part in majesticall matters,
with neither decencie nor discretion: so as neither the admiration and
Commiseration, nor the the right sportfulnesse is by their mongrell
Tragicomedie obtained. I know Apuleius did somewhat so, but that is a
thing recounted with space of time, not represented in one moment: and I
knowe the Auncients have one or two examples of Tragicomedies, as Plautus
hath Amphitrio. But if we marke them well, wee shall finde that they never
or verie daintily matche horne Pipes and Funeralls. So falleth it out,
that having indeed no right Comedie in that Comicall part of our Tragidie,
wee have nothing but scurrilitie unwoorthie of anie chaste eares, or some
extreame shewe of doltishnesse, indeede fit to lift up a loude laughter
and nothing else: where the whole tract of a Comedie should bee full of
delight, as the Tragidie should bee still maintained in a well raised
admiration. But our Comedients thinke there is no delight without
laughter, which is verie wrong, for though laughter may come with delight,
yet commeth it not of delight, as though delight should be the cause of
laughter. But well may one thing breed both togither. Nay rather in
themselves, they have as it were a kinde of contrarietie: For delight wee
scarecly doo, but in thinges that have a conveniencie to our selves, or to
the generall nature: Laughter almost ever commeth of thinges moste
disproportioned to our selves, and nature. Delight
hath a joy in it either
permanent or present. Laughter hath onely a scornfull tickling. For
example, wee are ravished with delight to see a faire woman, and yet are
farre from beeing mooved to laughter. Wee laugh at deformed creatures,
wherein certainly wee cannot delight. We delight in good chaunces, wee
laugh at mischaunces. We delight to heare the happinesse of our friendes
and Countrey, at which hee were worthie to be laughed at, that would
laugh: we shall contrarily laugh sometimes to finde a matter quite
mistaken, and goe downe the hill against the byas, in the mouth of some
such men as for the respect of them, one shall be heartily sorie, he
cannot chuse but laugh, and so is rather pained, then delighted with
laughter. Yet denie I not, but that they may goe well togither, for as in
Alexanders picture well set out, wee delight without laughter, and in
twentie madde Antiques, wee laugh without delight. So in Hercules, painted
with his great beard and furious countenaunce, in a womans attyre,
spinning, at Omphales commaundement{164}, it breeds
both delight and laughter: for the representing of so straunge a power in
Love, procures delight, and the scornefulnesse of the action, stirreth
laughter. But I speake to this purpose, that all the ende of the Comicall
part, bee not uppon suche scornefull matters as stirre laughter onelie,
but mixe with it, that delightfull teaching whiche is the ende of Poesie.
And the great faulte even in that poynt of laughter,
and forbidden plainly
by Aristotle{165}, is, that they stirre laughter in
sinfull things, which are rather execrable then ridiculous: or in
miserable, which are rather to be pitied then scorned. For what is it to
make folkes gape at a wretched begger, and a beggerly Clowne: or against
lawe of hospitalitie, to jeast at straungers, because they speake not
English so well as we do? What doo we learne, since it is certaine, Nil
habet infoelix paupertas durius in se, Quam quod ridiculos homines
facit{166}. But rather a busie loving Courtier, and a
hartelesse thretning Thraso{167}, a selfe-wise
seeming Schoolemaister, a wry transformed Traveller: these if we saw walke
in Stage names, which we plaie naturally, therein were delightfull
laughter, and teaching delightfulnesse; as in the other the Tragedies of
Buchanan{168} do justly bring foorth a divine
admiration. But I have lavished out too many words of this Play-matter; I
do it, because as they are excelling parts of Poesie, so is there none so
much used in England, and none can be more pittifully abused: which like
an unmannerly daughter, shewing a bad education, causeth her mother
Poesies honestie to be called in question. Other sort of Poetrie, almost
have we none, but that Lyricall kind of Songs and Sonets; which Lord, if
he gave us so good mindes, how well it might be employed, and with how
heavenly fruites, both private and publike, in singing the praises of the
immortall bewtie, the immortall goodnes of that God, who giveth us hands
to write, and wits to conceive: of which we might wel want words, but
never matter, of which we could turne our eyes to nothing, but we
should
ever have new budding occassions. But truly many of such writings as come
under the banner of unresistable love, if I were a mistresse, would never
perswade mee they were in love: so coldly they applie firie speeches, as
men that had rather redde lovers writings, and so caught up certaine
swelling Phrases, which hang togither like a man that once tolde me the
winde was at Northwest and by South, because he would be sure to name
winds inough, then that in truth they feele those passions, which easily
as I thinke, may be bewraied by that same forciblenesse or Energia, (as
the Greeks call it of the writer). But let this be a sufficient, though
short note, that we misse the right use of the material point of Poesie.
Now for the outside of it, which is words, or (as I may tearme it)
Diction, it is even well worse: so is it that hony-flowing Matrone
Eloquence, apparrelled, or rather disguised, in a Courtisanlike painted
affectation. One time with so farre fet words, that many seeme monsters,
but must seeme straungers to anie poore Englishman: an other time with
coursing of a letter, as if they were bound to follow the method of a
Dictionary: an other time with figures and flowers, extreemely
winter-starved. But I would this fault were onely peculiar to Versefiers,
and had not as large possession among Prose-Printers: and which is to be
mervailed among many Schollers, & which is to be pitied among some
Preachers. Truly I could wish, if at I might be so bold to wish, in a
thing beyond the reach of my capacity, the diligent Imitators of Tully
& Demosthenes, most worthie to be imitated, did not so much keepe
Nizolian paper bookes{169},
of their figures
and
phrase, as by attentive translation, as it were, devoure them whole, and
make them wholly theirs. For now they cast Sugar and spice uppon everie
dish that is served to the table: like those Indians, not content to weare
eare-rings at the fit and naturall place of the eares, but they will
thrust Jewels through their nose and lippes, because they will be sure to
be fine. Tully when he was to drive out Catiline, as it were with a
thunderbolt of eloquence, often useth the figure of repitition, as Vivit
& vincit, imo in senatum, Venit imo, in senatum venit{170}, &c. Indeede enflamed, with a well grounded rage,
hee would have his words (as it were ) double out of his mouth, and so do
that artificially, which we see men in choller doo naturally. And we
having noted the grace of those words, hale them in sometimes to a
familiar Epistle, when it were too much choller to be chollericke. How
well store of Similiter Cadenses{171}, doth sound
with the gravitie of the Pulpit, I woulde but invoke Demosthenes soule to
tell: who with a rare daintinesse useth them. Truly they have made mee
thinke of the Sophister{172}, that with too much
subtiltie would prove two Egges three, and though he might bee counted a
Sophister, had none for his labour. So these men bringing in such a kind
of eloquence, well may they obtaine an opinion of a seeming finesse, but
perswade few, which should be the ende of their finesse. Now for
similitudes in certain Printed discourses, I thinke all Herberists, all
stories of beasts, foules, and fishes, are rifled up, that they may come
in multitudes to wait upon any of our conceits, which certainly is as
absurd a surfet to the eares as is possible. For the force of a similitude
not being to prove any thing to a contrary disputer, but onely to explain
to a willing hearer, when that is done, the rest is a most tedious
pratling, rather overswaying the memorie from the purpose whereto they
were applied, then anie whit enforming the judgement alreadie either
satisfied, or by similitudes not to be satisfied. For my part, I doo not
doubt, when Antonius and Crassus{173}, the great
forefathers of Cicero in eloquence, the one (as Cicero testifieth of them)
pretended not to know Art, the other not to set by it, (because with a
plaine sensiblenesse, they might winne credit of popular eares, which
credit, is the nearest steppe to perswasion, which perswasion, is the
chiefe marke of Oratorie) I do not doubt I say, but that they used these
knacks verie sparingly, which who doth generally use, any man may see doth
dance to his own musick, and so to be noted by the audience, more careful
to speak curiously than truly. Undoubtedly (at least to my opinion
undoubtedly) I have found in divers smal learned Courtiers, a more sound
stile, then in some professors of learning, of which I can gesse no other
cause, but that the Courtier following that which by practice he findeth
fittest to nature, therein (though he know it not) doth according to art,
thogh not by art (as in these cases he shuld do) flieth from nature, &
indeed abuseth art. But what? methinks, I deserve to be pounded{174} for straying from Poetrie, to Oratory: but both have
such an affinitie in the wordish consideration, that I think this
digression will make my meaning receive the fuller understanding: which
is not to take upon me to teach Poets how they should do, but only finding
my selfe sicke among the rest, to shew some one or two spots of the common
infection growne among the most part of writers; that acknowledging our
selves somewhat awry, wee may bende to the right use both of matter and
manner. Whereto our language giveth us great occasion, being indeed
capable of any excellent exercising of it. I knowe some will say it is a
mingled language: And why not, so much the better, taking the best of both
the other? Another will say, it wanteth Grammer. Nay truly it hath that
praise that it wants not Grammar; for Grammer it might have, but it needs
it not, being so easie in it selfe, and so voyd of those combersome
differences of Cases, Genders, Moods, & Tenses, which I thinke was a
peece of the Tower of Babilons curse{175}, that a
man should be put to schoole to learn his mother tongue. But for the
uttering sweetly and properly the conceit of the minde, which is the end
of speech, that hath it equally with any other tongue in the world. And is
perticularly happy in compositions of two or three wordes togither, neare
the Greeke, farre beyonde the Latine, which is one of the greatest bewties
can be in a language. Now of versefying, there are two sorts, the one
auncient, the other moderne. The auncient marked the quantitie of each
sillable, and according to that, framed his verse: The moderne, observing
onely number, with some regard of the accent; the chiefe life of it,
standeth in that like sounding of the words, which we call Rime. Whether
of these be the more excellent, wold bear many speeches, the ancient no
doubt more fit for Musicke, both words and time observing quantitie, and
more fit, lively to expresse divers passions by the low or loftie sound of
the well-wayed sillable. The latter likewise with his rime striketh a
certaine Musicke to the ear: and in fine, since it dooth delight, though
by an other way, it obtaineth the same purpose, there being in either
sweetnesse, and wanting in neither, majestie. Truly the English before any
Vulgare language, I know is fit for both sorts: for, for the auncient, the
Italian is so full of Vowels, that it must ever be combred with Elisions.
The Duch so of the other side with Consonants, that they cannot yeeld the
sweete slyding, fit for a Verse. The French in his whole language, hath
not one word that hath his accent in the last sillable, saving two, called
Antepenultima; and little more hath the Spanish, and therefore verie
gracelessly may they use Dactiles. The English is subject to none of these
defects. Now for Rime, though we doo not observe quan[ti]tie, yet we
observe the Accent verie precisely, which other languages either cannot
do, or will not do so absolutely. That Caesura, or breathing place in the
midst of the Verse, neither Italian nor Spanish have: the French and we,
never almost faile off. Lastly, even the verie Rime it selfe, the Italian
cannot put it in the last sillable, by the French named the Masculine
Rime; but still in the next to the last, which the French call the Female;
or the next before that, which the Italian Sdrucciola: the example
of the
former, is Buono, Suono, of the Sdrucciola, is Femina, Semina. The French
of the other side, hath both the Male as Bon, Son; and the Female, as
Plaise, Taise{176}; but the Sdrucciola he hath not:
where the English hath all three, as Du, Trew, Father, Rather, Motion,
Potion{177}, with much more which might be sayd,
but that alreadie I finde the triflings of this discourse is much too much
enlarged. So that since the ever-praise woorthie Poesie is full of vertue
breeding delightfulnesse, and voyd of no gift that ought to be in the
noble name of learning, since the blames layd against it, are either false
or feeble, since the cause why it is not esteemed in England, is the fault
of Poet-apes, not Poets. Since lastly our tongue is most fit to honour
Poesie, and to bee honoured by Poesie, I conjure you all that have had the
evill luck to read this inck-wasting toy of mine, even in the name of the
nine Muses, no more to scorne the sacred misteries of Poesie. No more to
laugh at the name of Poets, as though they were next inheritors to fooles;
no more to jest at the reverent title of a Rimer, but to beleeve with
Aristotle, that they were the auncient Treasurers of the Grecians
divinitie{178}; to beleeve with Bembus, that they
were the first bringers in of all Civilitie; to beleeve with Scalliger
that no Philosophers precepts can sooner make you an honest man, then the
reading of Virgil{179}; to beleeve with Clauserus,
the Translator of Cornatus, that it pleased the heavenly deitie by Hesiod
and Homer, under the vaile of Fables to give us all knowledge, Logicke,
Rhetoricke, Philosophie, naturall and morall, and Quid non?{180} to beleeve with me, that there are many misteries
contained in Poetrie, which of purpose were written darkly, least by
prophane wits it should be abused: To beleeve with Landin{181}, that they are so beloved of the Gods, that whatsoever
they write, proceeds of a divine furie. Lastly, to beleeve themselves when
they tell you they will make you immortal by their verses. Thus doing,
your name shall florish in the Printers shops. Thus doing you shalbe of
kin to many a Poeticall Preface. Thus doing, you shal be most faire, most
rich, most wise, most all: you shall dwel upon Superlatives. Thus doing,
though you be Libertino patre natus{182}, you shall
sodeinly grow Herculea proles{183}. Si quid mea
Carmina possunt{184}. Thus doing, your soule shall
be placed with Dantes Beatrix, or Virgils Anchises. But if (fie of such a
but) you bee borne so neare the dull-making Cataract of Nilus, that you
cannot heare the Planet-like Musicke of Poetrie; if you have so earth-creeping a mind that it cannot lift it selfe up to looke to the skie of
Poetrie, or rather by a certaine rusticall disdaine, wil become such a
mome, as to bee a Momus of Poetrie: then though I will not wish unto you
the Asses eares of Midas, nor to be driven by a Poets verses as
Bubonax{185} was, to hang himselfe, nor to be rimed to
death
as is said to be done in Ireland, yet thus much Curse I must send you in
the behalfe of all Poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never
get favour, for lacking skill of a Sonet, and
when you die, your memorie die from the earth for want of an Epitaphe. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 67 | Author: | Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | 100% : The Story of a Patriot / by Upton Sinclair | | | | Published: | 1999 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Now and then it occurs to one to reflect upon what slender threads of
accident depend the most important circumstances of his life; to look
back and shudder, realizing how close to the edge of nothingness his
being has come. A young man is walking down the street, quite casually,
with an empty mind and no set purpose; he comes to a crossing, and for
no reason that he could tell he takes the right hand turn instead of the
left; and so it happens that he encounters a blue-eyed girl, who sets
his heart to beating. He meets the girl, marries her — and she became
your mother. But now, suppose the young man had taken the left hand turn
instead of the right, and had never met the blue-eyed girl; where would
you be now, and what would have become of those qualities of mind which
you consider of importance to the world, and those grave affairs of
business to which your time is devoted? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 69 | Author: | Smith, F. Hopkinson | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Tom Grogan | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | SOMETHING worried Babcock. One could see that from the impatient gesture
with which he turned away from the ferry window on learning he had half an
hour to wait. He paced the slip with hands deep in his pockets, his head
on his chest. Every now and then he stopped, snapped open his watch and shut
it again quickly, as if to hurry the lagging minutes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 72 | Author: | Southall, James P. C. (James Powell Cocke), b. 1871. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | In the days of my youth when I was a student in the University
of Virginia, 1888-1893. | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | ALMOST MY EARLIEST RECOLLECTION OF RICHMOND, WHERE I grew up, is the scene of a vast concourse of people assembled
in Capitol Square between the Washington Monument and the
Governor's Mansion, to witness the unveiling of the statue of
Stonewall Jackson, and to listen to Dr. Hoge's eloquent oration
which was a chief part of the ceremony on that impressive
occasion. That was in 1875 when I was four years old; yet
somehow I was certainly there that day in the midst of the
throng, and while I remember the spectacle almost as vividly as
if I had seen it yesterday, I cannot recall whether I was with my
mother and father or simply with my dear old mammy, Malvina.
In those days of my early boyhood, Richmond on the James,
outwardly, not yet inwardly recovered from the ugly scars of the
Civil War, was an historic and picturesque old residential town
that stretched or sprawled several miles from Church Hill — the
site of St. John's Church where Patrick Henry a century ago had
shouted "Give me liberty, or give me death! "— westward as far as
Hollywood Cemetery, where
... sleep the brave who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest.
The port of Rocketts at the foot of Church Hill and just below the Falls of
James River was the head of
tidewater, as far up the big river as a steamer could come; so if you had a mind
to go to Norfolk by the sea
about a hundred miles away, you might get on board a side-wheeler, somewhat
ironically called the Ariel,
which used to leave the wharf at Rocketts early in the morning and was lucky if
it got to Norfolk by bedtime
that evening. How ever, if you were in a hurry, you had another alternative and
could go by train, changing
cars in Petersburg; although, even then it was doubtful whether you would reach
Norfolk ahead of the Ariel,
for in the days of my youth trains in Virginia were almost invariably long
behind time. Time was not so
precious then as it is now, and the truth is it usually did not matter much when
you reached your destination. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 79 | Author: | Spenser, Edmund, 1552?-1599 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Shepheardes Calendar | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | LIttle I hope, needeth me at large to discourse the first Originall of
Æglogues, hauing alreadie touched the same. But for the word Æglogues I
know is vnknowen to most, and also mistaken of some the best learned (as
they think) I wyll say somewhat thereof, being not at all impertinent to my
present purpose. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 80 | Author: | Spencer, Herbert, 1820-1903. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Man versus the State | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Most of those who now pass as Liberals, are Tories of a new
type. This is a paradox which I propose to justify. That I may
justify it, I must first point out what the two political parties
originally were; and I must then ask the reader to bear with me
while I remind him of facts he is familiar with, that I may
impress on him the intrinsic natures of Toryism and Liberalism
properly so called. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 81 | Author: | Spofford, Harriet Prescott | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Mad Lady | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | CERTAINLY there was a house there, half-way up Great Hill, a
mansion of pale cream-colored stone, built with pillared porch and
wings, vines growing over some parts of it, a sward like velvet
surrounding it; the sun was flashing back from the windows—but—
Why? Why had none of the Godsdale people seen that house before?
Could the work of building have gone on sheltered by the thick wood
in front, the laborers and the materials coming up the other side
of the hill? It would not be visible now if, overnight, vistas had
not been cut in the wood. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 82 | Author: | Spyri, Johanna | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Heidi | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | FROM the old and pleasantly situated village of
Mayenfeld, a footpath winds through green
and shady meadows to the foot of the mountains,
which on this side look down from their stern
and lofty heights upon the valley below. The land
grows gradually wilder as the path ascends, and the
climber has not gone far before he begins to inhale
the fragrance of the short grass and sturdy mountain-plants, for the way is steep and leads directly up to
the summits above. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 91 | Author: | Stewart, Donald Ogden | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A Parody Outline of History | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | On a memorable evening in the year 1904
I witnessed the opening performance of
Maude Adams in "Peter Pan''. Nothing in
the world can describe the tremendous enthusiasm
of that night! I shall never forget
the moment when Peter came to the front of
the stage and asked the audience if we believed
in fairies. I am happy to say that I
was actually the first to respond. Leaping at
once out of my seat, I shouted "Yes—Yes!''
To my intense pleasure the whole house almost
instantly followed my example, with the
exception of one man. This man was sitting
directly in front of me. His lack of enthusiasm
was to me incredible. I pounded him on
the back and shouted, "Great God, man, are
you alive! Wake up! Hurrah for the fairies!
Hurrah!'' Finally he uttered a rather feeble
"Hurrah!'' Childe Roland to the dark tower
came. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 94 | Author: | Stewart, Calvin | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Uncle Josh Weathersby's "Punkin Centre Stories" | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE author was born in Virginia, on a little patch of land, so poor
we had to fertilize it to make brick. Our family, while having cast
their fortunes with the South, was not a family ruined by the war; we
did not have anything when the war commenced, and so we held our own. I
secured a common school education, and at the age of twelve I left home,
or rather home left me—things just petered out. I was slush cook on an
Ohio River Packet; check clerk in a stave and heading camp in the knobs
of Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia; I helped lay the track of the M. K.
& T. R. R., and was chambermaid in a livery stable. Made my first
appearance on the stage at the National Theatre in Cincinnati, Ohio, and
have since then chopped cord wood, worked in a coal mine, made cross
ties (and walked them), worked on a farm, taught a district school (made
love to the big girls), run a
threshing machine, cut bands, fed the machine and ran the engine. Have
been a freight and passenger brakeman, fired and ran a locomotive; also
a freight train conductor and check clerk in a freight house; worked on
the section; have been a shot gun messenger for the Wells, Fargo
Company. Have been with a circus, minstrels, farce comedy, burlesque
and dramatic productions; have been with good shows, bad shows, medicine
shows, and worse, and some shows where we had landlords singing in the
chorus. Have played variety houses and vaudeville houses; have slept in
a box car one night, and a swell hotel the next; have been a traveling
salesman (could spin as many yarns as any of them). For the past four
years have made the Uncle Josh stories for the talking machine. The Lord
only knows what next! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 95 | Author: | Spillman, Robert | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, May 26, 1864 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | With pleasure I avail my self of the first opportunity to respond your ever dear
letter of the 1st
inst which was recd the 4th. I have been
very anxious to reply sooner but could not possibly do so my dear friend I can
not find words to express the delight with which your letter was received and
read, just at the time of its reception the two grand Armies in Virginia began
to move. That day we had been under arms & in the saddles alday. all was excitement
looking forward to the result of the coming great battle. of course it was a time for excitement, curious thought &
sadness. late on the evening above mentioned, when I
felt that our thoughts prayers & vigilent acts should be directed to the
great task before us to be performed, I, for my part felt quite dejected & very anxious as to
the issue of the next few days, Just then your pleasing & ever welcome
letter came The well recognized hand writing upon the back sent a thrill of joy
to my very soul & when I had given its interesting pages a carefull perusal you must know that my countenance wore
an expression of delight for just then a friend past
by & remarked "Bob that must be a letter from your lady love. See boys
said he how his brow is lit up. I answered no, but told him that it was from one
whom I love as such & true it is there is no one who has a larger space
in my heart than the one to whom I am now writing. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 96 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, August 13, 1864 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | I avail myself of the pleasant opportunity of droping you a few lines which I
hope will reach you safe & find you in the full enjoyment of health
& prosperity. I have not heard from you since through your letter of the
2nd of July which I received while at the Hospital, I
answered it immediately telling you that I should leave for home in a short time
which I did. I left Richmond the 13th day of July. When I
last wrote I instructed you to direct your letter to Sorrells, Essex Co but on
my way home I learned that the mail was not running to that office owing to the enimy having broken up the Mail route while on his line
of March to Richmond but Since I have been home the line has been reestablished
consequently letters sent by the directions given you will reach me safe. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 97 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, December 28, 1864 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | The ever dear white winged messenger from your hand of the 23d just came duly to hand yesterday which found me comparitively well & truly glad to hear
from you. Tis useless for me to undertake to give you an idea of the pleasure it
affords me to receive a letter from you or to discribe the feeling & interest with which each & every
line is carefully read. Would that I could be the recipient of such dear letters
every day but truly it is a pleasure that such a character as I do not deserve.
Well Christmas is over, it past very quietly with me I met with no gay crowds or
rather visited no place where there was merry making. Christmas day I went to
Church & heard a very good & appropriate Surmon delivered by Doctor Duncan of this City in the after noone I called on a friend for a Short time
& at night went to Church again. Thus past the day making the fourth
Christmas Since the war all of which I have spent away from home. The only treat
I had during this Christmas week was the receipt of you Ever welcome letter
which was handed me yesterday about noone. I am just
learning how to appreciate such
pleasures. it was always very agreeable to me to
correspond with my friend, but situated as I am now makes it doubly so. a way from my home & among Entire strangers leaves
me quite a lonely life, it is truly more monotonous here than it was in all my
Experiences in camp. tis true, I believe that I have made many freinds while here but I am deprived of the social
comforts that I enjoyed with my company for there, I have a fond brother whose
society has been the greatest source of my pleasure ever since I have been old
enough to duly appreciate a brothers love and were I deprived of a correspondance with you dear Kate - dreary, & all most
comfortless, would be Every hour of my life. Just think what a pleasure to have
some dear loved one who, though separated from me by many miles, still I have
the pleasure of speaking with though it be through the silent medium of the pen,
tis truly gratifying believing as I do that I am honored to night with this
pleasure of writing to one who loves me with a pure
sisterly unselfish love on whose word I may, with impunity confide,
believing that her pure heart knows no treachery, one whom I love above all
others of her sex, save her to whom I have given my heart & hand, with
the promise that the arm & hand
which wields this pen shall shield her fragile form, through a life time that I
hope may be as pleasantly ahead as the few short hours are now in writing to my
dear Sister Kate. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 98 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, January 12, 1865 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | Again I have the pleasure of responding to your Ever dear & affectionate
letter that reached me to day the perusal of which was done with no little
degree of pleasure. I can not find words to express my self on the present
occasion could I but wield the pen of a novelist, I might passibly be able to
give some faint idea of my high appreciation of your dear letters and the pure
unselfish friendship you have to long & so repeatedly expressed for me
how often in my silent musings does my mind wander back to the days when I had
no knowledge of you, before I was honoured with your
acquaintance & your friendship. how different
were the lonely hours spent then, no fond anticipation lay before me of a day
that would bring with its natural charms a messenger from a dear dear friend in the distance, a letter from you dear Kate. How sad
& still how pleasing are the many changes since first we met, both
combined are truly almost incomprehensible. think, for a moment, but a little
more than a year ago we were as those who had never lived to each other but time
with its many changes find us now as it
were bonded & bossom friends. how pleasing it is to me to think that I have the esteem &
confidence of a friend so pure, so noble, as your self. Tis truly an honour not
merited by me I can scarecely realize that one so insignificant as my self
should enjoy such pleasures as are realized from such a pleasing correspondence.
Well dear Kate, you had need not expect a
long or interesting letter this time as my mind is restive it seems that it
cant possibly be concentrated or centered upon any
one particular subject. Not withstanding the present moment is a time when I
should feel or rather be able to produce some sentimental language for now it is
about Eleven oclock at night. No sound breaks the
stillness of the night save the constant roar of the rapid waters of the James
River as it rushes madly over the rocky falls wending its way along the winding
current towards its mother ocean. Other than that, all is quiet. The blazing
stars shine brilliantly high up in their orbit while the gentle moon sheds its
silvery light over all nature. Still I cant feel
sentimental since I cant find words to express my self
to night. I hope you will excuse my brevity
& I'll promise to do better nex time, but that
is a promise that I aught not to make,
as I'll be most sure to break it for I am
not endowed with the mental faculties which enables one to write a communicative
or interesting letter. still I am fond of writing, if I
cant interest or give information. I dont exactly agree with my dear little friend Lou. She
seems to think that letters should not be
written unless it bears important news, or something cheering or animating but
it is not so with me. I like to speak at a distance with my dear friend through
the silent medium of the pen tis truly a pleasure that I would not be deprived
for the world. I could not dispence with such a
pleasure while I am blessed with the power of writing I must profit by it. Well
dear Kate the old Bacon Clock has just told by its lonesome ring the approach of
midnight hour, so I must close. My love to all with a full portion for your
self. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 99 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, January 29, 1865 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | Your very kind & dear letter of the 21st
inst reached me safely a three
days ago which found me quite well & truly glad to hear from you
& to hear that you with your Fathers family were
well but I am very sorry to hear of your unpleasant feelings from the tone of
your letter you appear to be in a measure greatly troubled. your language was such as would lead one to believe that you feel
like one forsaken, like one enshrouded with the dark shaddows of gloom wending this way as it were in some isolated
region amid trials & troubles unspeakable with no one to cheer you.
no sound of a merry or well known voice to brake the stillness of the midnight hour. no strong arm to shield thy fragile form in the hour of apparant danger. no fond eye to
meet the steady gaze as you look to the dark
& untried future. dearest Kate, would that I
was capable to day of speaking to you with lanugage that would cheer your
drooping spirits, to clear remove the dark cloud from oer your way & brighten your path with the
briliant sunshine of joy & consolation, but as it is using one of your
expressions "You must take the will for the deed." I am exceedingly anxious to
have the full causes of your troubles
not that I could feel that I would be able to soothe you in the least but I would be very glad to know all
that in any way gives trouble or displeasure to my dear & ever faithful
friend Kate. If the secret of your discomfort is not too profound I will be much
gratified to know all about it, with a promise never to divulge it to any one.
well for a change of the subject I will give you a
little of the news of the day. it is generally believed
that our Government is about to send commissioners to confer with the Federal
authorities preparatory to coming to some terms of peace. may the blessed Lord grant that they may be able to come to some
honorable terms of peace. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 100 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, October 15, 1865 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | Your very kind long looked for & ever welcome letter of the 11th just reached me safely about 8 oclock last night. I was truly delighted to hear from you. I felt
exceedingly anxious about you when I wrote to you in September I was by no means
sure that my letter would ever reach you. consequently I laboured under many fears
& doubts as to whether I should ever hear from you again or not & to be deprived of a
correspondence with so dear a friend as I claim you to be would be truly hard to
bear with. Ah! my dear Kate I am sure you can form no idea how much I missed the
pleasures of your dear sweet letters during our long silence. I was truly
deprived of a pleasure beyond the comprehension of many but now that our
correspondence has commenced again I feel perfectly delightful I hope that
nothing may happen to prevent a regular
correspondence as long as we continue to be such devoted friends. I am satisfied
that marriage on my part will never make me forget my dear sweet sister Kate as
for my dear little friend Lou she is well aware that you & I are devoted
friends & correspondents & I know her well enough to be
perfectly satisfied that one of her kind & gentle nature will, or does
highly appreciate your true & unselfish friendship for sure, but as for
marrying, indeed my friend that is something that I certainly dont expect to do soon my present situation will not admit of any
thing of the sort. were I to get married now I dont think that I would be doing any lady justice in
consequece of my embarrassed situation in life. I am fully determined never to marry any one until I feel capable of
placeing the object of my affections in a paralel
condition to her present one or better it if possible. Therefore I fear it will
be a long long time before I can realize any thing of
the kind. Well enough on that subject I
am truly glad to hear that your dear brother & friend Willis are safe at
home after the great fall of our poor old Confederacy. it
is truly a great blessing that they were spared to return to their homes
& loved ones. I assure you that I have really enoyed peace &
quietude since the close of the war not withstanding that it did not end in
accordance with my desire & at first I was truly thunderstruck, but when
I considered that the grief of one could not possibly do any good I concluded I
would try to enjoy peace & the sweets of home once more & try to
thank God that it was no worse & that a few of us were spared to tell
the tale. You see from the steading of my letter that I have left old westmoreland for a season & am at this
time staying at this place where I expect to be for several weeks. will try to keep you posted as to when I shall remove from
here so that your letters may always be properly directed so they may reach me
safely. you must write to me as often as you can your
letters are such a great comfort & satisfaction to me. You must remember me kindly to your Pa
& Ma & sisters & all enquiring friends if there be any,
but of course I dont expect there are any from the fact
that I have no acquaintances in that section of the County. With much love for
your dear self believe dear Kate to be as ever | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 101 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, December 22, 1865 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | Your most dear, & ever welcome letter of the 3rd
inst. reached me safely a few days ago which found
me very well & truly glad to hear from & to hear that you
together with your father's family were enjoying good health &
prosperity, with the exception of the little bad feeling which prevented you
from attending Church but I truly hope that ere this reaches you, you may be
fully restored to perfect health again. Well Sis.
Kate it is now drawing very near
Christmas. Many in this place are in anticipation of a gay time, at balls
& parties but I dont expect to be here during
the Christmas. My calculation is to leave here Christams night for home if I am
not disappointed. That is if the Steam Boat does not fail to make its usual trip
from Baltimore. I cannot tell now whether I will return to this place soon or
not, it depends altogether upon future arrangements. I reckon you had better not
answer this, until you hear from me again as
there is no regular line of communication to my County & as it is near
mid winter the Steamers are about making there last
trips. Consequently we are soon to be
deprived of the only means of Public conveyence or Communications with this
place Should I return to Fredericksburg again I will write to you immediately. I
truly hope you may spend a pleasant time during the Christmas. I really wish it
was in my power to visit you this Christams I am sure I could spend a pleasant
time. it was two years the 14th of
this month since we parted. Well do I remember that eventfull day. What strange things time has brought about. Two years
ago we knew each other only as strangers tonight I address you my Dear Kate as
Sister & must say as I have often said I love you as such I feel like I
am writing to one who truly merits all
my love, in whose heart I am proud to say I have a place, according to my
unshaken confidence in your most noble & worthy self. Remember my dear
Sister that though we be ever separated, you will ever be a bright star on the
pages of my fond memory if life is spared & fortune smiles I am
determined to see you. I assure you there is nothing that would be more
gratifying to me than a visit to Rose Dale, the home of my much love Sister Kate. The night is growing old I must close
for the present by wishing you a Merry Christmas & happy New Year my
love to all, wish your dear self may God forever bless you. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 102 | Author: | Spillman, Robert | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, May 18, 1866 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | You very kind and ever dear letter of the 5th of April was
duly recieved which found me quite well & truly glad to hear from you. I
reckon you think very strange of me for not replying sooner but when I tell you
the reason I know you will forgive me. About 5 or 6 weeks ago my eyes became so
very weak that I could not possibly see to read of wrote consequently I could
not answer your letter, & even now, it is with the greatest difficulty
imaginable that I can barely make out to write I am reduced to the painfull necessity of wearing glasses. it is truly a sad missfortune for ones
eyesight to be so seriously impaired as is
the case with me at this time, but I hope by the constant use of green glasses
to have my sight restored. My Brother once suffered with the same missfortune but
regained his sight by wearing glasses. I hope I may be equally fortunate. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 103 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, September 2, 1866 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | Again I attempt to write you a few lines with the earnest hope that I may soon
hear something from you it has now been
nearly four months since I have heard one word from you so long &
anxiously have looked for a letter from you
that I have all most dispaired of ever hearing from you again. I often fear that
something serious has happend or that it is possible
that I am now writing to the dead. I truly
hope & pray that the sad thought is in
correct you know not my dear friend what
anxiety of mind I have experienced since you have been so long silent. I have
had all sort of imaginations but can come to no conclusion. I earnestly hope now
to hear from you & have all fully explained or if I have lost my dear
friend Kate & this letter is read by her dear parrents any surviving friend that they will speedily favour me with a letter that would bear to me sad sad
news for not withstanding we are comparitively strangers you have always since
our earliest correspondence felt to me like a sister the Christian like
character of your correspondences is so characteristic of one of who is a true
child of God. That it has drawn out my fondest attachments for you are such. I
will not write much more. if you are yet alive (& God grant you may be)
please answer at the earliest
opportunity with a continuation of my imperfect prayers for your preservation I
will impatiently await tidings from you | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 104 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, October 13, 1866 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | Yours of the 19 of Aug & 26 of Sept have been recieved. Oh I cannot find
words to express my joy at the receipt of your letter of the 19 August twas
after I had waited so long & anxiously for a letter from you that I had
concluded that something had happened & then wrote that my letter might
be opened by your Pa in order that I might get some information of you. meantime
your dear letter came on in other words an Angel's visit. I seized the dear
letters messenger & with anxious eyes & heart full of joy
unspeakable I perused its contents with un
parralelled interest & pleasure the relief of my anxiety was so
forcibly impressive that I could but (umanly or childish as it was) press the
dear sheet to my lips & cover your name with numerous kisses. I really
was never more delighted at the receipt of a letter all my life. One would have
supposed from emotions, that I was much in love with than that of friendship. Sweet dearest Kate you know I have long
since defined my position fully, I have claimed to love you only as a friend
& as a proof of the fact have openly told you of my fond relations with
another a friend of early life whose constancy & devotion I can scarce doubt. our attachment
was formed in early life. long separations during the
protracted perils of war & blood Shed, my reduction (by the same) to
comparitive poverty has made no change in the
dearest objects of my undivided affection like you my
dear Sister who has proven to be a devoted friend. She
too has proven to be all that one could be, who holds the place she does, in my
hearts dearest affections and nothing prevents the consumation of what has been
vowed between us but my limited means & the depressed condition of the
Country. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 105 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, March 17, 1864 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-ValleyOfTheShadow | | | | Description: | You kind and welcome letter of the 8th inst reached me safe today which found me
well & very glad to hear from you for I was anxiously awaiting your
reply. I felt so lonely lying in camp with no excitement but at last your dear
letter came which was indeed a healing talisman in writing & anxious
hearts if ever I prize a letter it is when such circumstance I
am satisfied there is no one who is more fond of communicating with dear friends than I am. Letter writing is a
pleasant mode of binding a vivid remembrance of friends & I think I
enjoy it as much as any one but some
times it does not suit my purposes. I pine for a more general & extended
chat, I wish very much that I could have the pleasures of meeting with you again
& again that we might become better acquainted my short stay with you I
have discovered many qualities in you which has made
undescribable impressions on me ours is a very singular case it is not often the
case where such a friendship springs up two between two
relative strangers Ever thankful I hope our friendship may be a lasting one
&c Sister you say that you have lately hurd
that I met with one of your neighbors & made enquiry in regards to your
self. I am indeed surpised to hear that
it is indeed a mistake let me assure you that I have never met with any one from
your county since I saw you it is not my
interest that I should have done as you heard I did but I assure you I did not
have the opportunity I dont claim to
be all Sister but I dont hesitate to say that your pleasant
appearance gave me entire satisfaction as regards your definitive worth Many
thanks, Miss Kate, for your favorable oppinion of me
I am very sorry that it is not a matter you asked if I was in
the fight near Richmond, I was not. I had not been relieved from duty in
Westemoreland, I returned to camp on the 9th of this
month. have not been very quiet since I
got here as the enemy kept us moving untill two days ago at which time we settled affairs all
is quiet now. Our losses were very slight. Well Miss Kate fearing I may bore you
with my uninteresting letter I guess I
had better close. My kindest regards to your fair family, please let me hear
from you ever sooner. your letters are most welcome messengers, with my warmest
wishes for your wellfare & happiness | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 106 | Author: | Spillman, Robert B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Robert B. Spillman to Amanda C. Armentrout, June 10, 1864 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | I again attempt to drop you few lines which I hope will reach you safe &
find you in the full enjoyment of health
& friends. I wrote to you about the 21 or
22 of May in answer to yours of the 1st which I recieved on the fourth I reckon you think I was long
time answering your letter but it was impossible for me to do so sooner. I have
waited a long time for you to answer, my love, but up to this time have heard
nothing from you so I write again to inform you where am & to let you know my condition. On the 1st day of
this month I was very badly wounded in the mouth & neck. So much so that
I could not talk any for many days I am geting so I
can talk a little now but make a very poor fist of it at best
since I have been wounded I am more
anxious to hear from friends though I reckon it is more for
the fact that I have not heard from you for so long if you have written to me
before you receive this of course your letter will go to my company but my
brothers will receive it then forward on to me I am improving very much my Doc
thinks my case not dayersome. I cant eat any thing I live on muck and mush mixed very thin so that I
sip it with spoon. I am quite strong thank God I have a fine constitution I can
stand most anything well My own friend you must write to me as soon as you recieve this I close so anxious to hear from you you
must excuse a short letter this time as my wound pains me. I have the pen in Richmond dear Kate write soon to your
unworthy but fond friend | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 107 | Author: | Shields, Maggie E. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Maggie Shields to Kate Armentrout, March 4, 1862 | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Civil War Collection | UVA-LIB-BrandLetterscivilwar | | | | Description: | I have been promising you a letter for more than a fortnight, but have neglected writing until this late period, though
doubtless it will be quite unexpected to you even now as it is almost entirely
unwonted for those at home to introduce a
correspondence with an absent friend; but you know as hard times increase, all
precedent customs as well as general formality diminishes & as I deem my
"own dear self" a miss of self-competence sufficient
to be governed by momentary impulses I will preface a fashion which I anticipate
will remain unimitated though hope not
depreciated, if it be a breach of former civility or etiquette if you please.
Well, Kate I scarcely know what to communicate first; as I am aware you hear directly from the neighborhood that so frequently that you receive the news almost as early as myself;
suppose from what I have learned that your fruition has been dazzling in the
zenith of its magnificence during your visit up to the present time; &
presume it will not cease to continue as long as parties, are the fashion
& Valley Rangers, with plenty of "Tobacco" are the Chorus in your "Town"; Oh! I have a great
desire to hear from you. There has no material change occurred within the limits of our vicinity since you left us, we
still experience the alternations of joys & greifs which we have been accustomed to almost daily since the war
commenced; we, in accordance with the
dictates of the Sacred writings rejoice in time of victory & grieve when
conquered. Suppose you have heard the
particulars attending our friend John Lightner's sickness & death; he
died wishing us all to meet him in heaven, which should be our unwearied
endeavor & consequently our final end. You had my heart-felt sympathy
upon hearing the melancholy news; but this Providence like theirs should be
weighed with the balance of humiliation, as the loss of one is the gain of
another. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 108 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father et. al., 1864 February 21 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | Thinking that you might like
to hear from me I concluded to write a few lines
We started last Wednesday arrived at Charles
city
on the same day. Next day we took the stage
and got to Cedar Falls. Took the cars at
Cedar
Falls next morning and arrived at
Dubuque
in the afternoon on Friday. We have been
staying here since then but expect to leave
for Davenport tomorrow. We have got
our uniforms excepting overcoat & dresscoat
our knapsack haversack blanket & canteen we
have got. the rest of our uniform our arms &
our first installment of bounty we shall re-
ceive at Davenport. We board at one of the hotels
here & report to roll call 9 & 2.
You will understand the nature of the
enclosed certificate. weare all in good
health & excellent spirits. Yesterday
Wahington's birthday was celebrated here
the home guards marched through the street
behind the fife & drum. There was target
shooting in the afternoon in the evening
there was a grand supper free for all
soldiers in the Union League Hall after
supper speaking, then dancing by the
young folks, 2 violins 1 clarinet -& one
double bass, were the instruments — the
performers were all germans but they
were verry excellent players I am
in haste & have not any more time to
write at present. I shall write again from
Davenport
to write to me | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 109 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 March 6 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I am standing by
a window here in the soldiers' home
and the boys are just singing the
Star-Spangled Banner. Long may it wave'
You may be somewhat surprised at
my delay in writing to you. me reason
was that I couldn't give you the directions
to write to
me until now. So far I
have
enjoyed the very best of health.
The boys are, I believe, all well, at
least in Co. B. The weather here
is quite warm. This southern sun
shines in at this window this morning
with the warmth of a
mid-summers sun
at the north, it looks to be at about the
same altitude. The water we have
here is not of the best quality, it is the
water of the Cumberland River and
is very nearly the color of clay.
The
Cumberland river is quite a stream,
being navigable for the largest steamboats.
The railroad bridges are
on a swing, that is the boats
come to it, it is made to separate in
the middle and one-half swings to
the side. We had the opportunity of
seeing this on the evening of our
arrival here from Louisville, Ky.
A number of us boys went to a theatre,
last night, in this place, it was
the first that I have ever seen. I
thought that I was well paid for
my quarter. The principle play
was Shakespeare's "Macbeth." I am
of course no judge of theatres but I
was well satisfied with what I saw
and heard. The instrumental music
was good 3 violins, harp, one
clarinet, one brass instrument, I
think a bugle & Double Bass.
You talk about singing and such
like, but there was a girl here last
night that I think would beat
your Mrs. Sunderland decidedly.
I expect that you have received
by this time some money that I
sent American Express Co.
($60) You may send me word that
you received
it, for if not, I have
a certificate that insures its
loss. I expect that we shall
leave here tomorrow, probably for
the front, Pulaski. We expected to
go today, but some accident or
another that happened yesterday
between here and Chattanooga pre
vented us. I am tired
of stand
ing and writing, so write to me as
soon as possible & direct to
me Co. B 7 Reg. Iowa Vol. Pulaski
Ten, care of Cap.
Reiniger. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 110 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 April 13 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I Take my pen
& paper to write to you again. I am
still in the enjoyment of good health
& hope that this may find you all the
same. We are still here but it is probable
that we shall move in some direction before
long appearances at least indicate as
much. One thing our veteran soldiers have
been called out to drill the orders are that we
shall drill 6 hours a day so as to perfect us
in the drill immediately & target shooting
one hour each day for the recruits. Another
thing they are making fortifications here
One large block house here is nearly finished
& I understand that they are going to build
another one a short distance from here across
the river. So that one hundred men
with the aid of these fortifications can
withstand as much as one thousand without
them It is the prevailing opinion that
when they are completed that we shall
leave here for more active service. There
is also great activity commenced on the
railroad that runs through here. a short
time since there was not more than one train
each day Now there is as many as six
each way to carry provisions & stores ammunition
etc. to the army south it is likely that the
spring campaign will soon be opened vigorously
very soon. It is about time to do something
or the heat of the season will be stronger
than either of the contending parties &
compel them to lay inactive till another
fall. There are some days now that
were it as warm north you would
say this will make the corn grow. We
dont know as much here about the operations
of the army as you do where you get the
regular papers at the north, but we know
more about a soldiers life I am not
disappointed I have not had to suffer
half the inconvenience yet that I expected
to or may even have to do in future
but our worst enemy or the one that I
fear most is sickness & as long as I can
avoid that why all right. There has
been a noted rebel guerilla caught not far
from here called Moore he has played
about these parts considerable robbing army
wagons plundering killing etc. since we
came here he gobbled up two of our boys
who had got outside the picket line in
search of a cow that belonged to the
regimental hospital but they gave him
the slip & got back to camp here again
There has been some deserters come to our camp
from the rebel army they give a deplo
rable account of the condition of the rebel
army say that they were pressed into it
etc. but no reliance can be put upon them
I think that the government are too easy
upon those rebels that are not in arms against
them. I don't believe that there is one good
rebel or union citizen in Giles Co Ten but they
are allowed to come within the lines with
with passes which the got from the regimental officers
signed by the Colonel we have quiet a
chance
to find out their principal when we go on
picket truly many of them have lost their
last cow & pig & would just as soon shoot a
picket as not but they ought to swing too
it makes some of the boys curse & swear to
see them round with their butternut-colored
clothes & brass buttons as near rebel uniform
as they dare come & durst not pull a trigger
on them. I have had but one letter
from you & I dont know why I dont
get more I want to hear at least
once a week or oftener & another thing
I want some postage stamps I
have to borrow & it will soon run out
on that score. I must say that H. J. Smith is promoted
to first Lieutenant -I
conclude Direct the same
as before | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 111 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 April 14 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I received your
letter last night which is the second
one that I have had from you since
I left. If I had one each day
I should not get tired of opening
them & reading them if they are
from Iowa they are very welcome
visitors but like angels visits few &
far between I wrote a letter to you
yesterday but after I received this
I thought that I must write
again I have wrote quiet a number
to different persons in the country but
have received no answers We get
mail here every day It is then taken
to headquarters & each company's
mail given to that company's orderly
& then distributed by him. You
Perhaps remember Stewart the man
that went with Vanness when he
thrashed our grain some years ago
he stays in our shanty & is very sick
it is probably the measles that is
coming upon him if that proves to be
the case he will of course removed to
the hospital until he recovers James
Campbell & Uriah A Wilson have
both had them but they have got
about well again I received the
postage stamps that you sent me
but they were so stuck together that
I had to steam them to get them
separated they should be doubled face
to face to prevent them sticking.
You said something about Leonard
Parker having sold out did he ever
say anything to you about some money
that he owed to me for rail making
I made him 1880 rails & he only paid
me for 1500 when he counted them
There was a deep snow & he did not
find them all & he promised if he
found the rest he would hand the
balance of the money to you I know
that the rails are there & he should have
paid to you 3 dollars & 80 cents perhaps
he has but the next time you write
let me know I have got with a
good mess of boys 8 of us they are not a
swearing blackguarding set at all with
Stewart excepted They are quiet thereverse
more inclined to study & improve
their mental faculties we have had
several debating schools in our shanty
since we came here. & we study
grammar some & arithmetic one of our
mess sent to Fowler & Wells & got a
couple of Phonographic Books & we
are just beginning to see a dawn
of sense in that branch We have had
them only 4 or 5 days & were entirely
ignorant of it all of us so we are not
advanced in reading or writing it yet
Altogether we have received the name
of the literary squad which sounds
blackguarding shanty just below us
which is known by the name of
Gambling Saloon I have just been
down to the guard house & saw one
from the aforesaid place with his arms
tied & fastened in a standing position
& I thought that I would sooner
be studying grammar or
Frognography
by which they try to ridicule us
than to be in his place for running
the picket lines or some other
misdemeanor. I am perfectly
well & hope that this may find
you all the same | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 112 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 May 17 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I take another
opportunity of writing to you the chances
that we have of sending letters is very
limited. The mails leave here now just
when it happens I am still in the enjoyment
of good health & strength & hope that all
of you at home can say the same Perhaps
you have received the last letter I wrote
if so you will see that we were then expecting
some hard fighting. Some of it we have had
I have not seen a part of what is called
the horrors of war luckily I have not been
called upon to suffer myself but alas
how many of our brave boys have. I
still have but very narrowly escaped
almost miraculously been spared my life
I have heard the hissing of bullets the shrieking
of shells & the loud bellowing of artillery
I think that the fighting has for some time
subsided The rebels as far as we know have
retreated all except a rear guard
of them which they have left to harass
us & prevent us from rapidly pursuing
them I heard our Lieutenant say that
it was believed that their main army has
left for Richmond but it is not surely
known for 8 days there has been more or
less fighting Our regiment has been principally
here at Calhoun Ferry the heavist fighting
has been at Resaca Last Saturday our
regiment was put to support a battery
that was planted to shell the rebels out of
their fort down here & we were very much
exposed to the replies of rebel shell
five of our regiment suffered & killed & 3
wounded with a shell one of the killed had
both of his legs ripped from his body We
were ordered to lay flat down face to the
ground & while we were in that position
a whole or large piece of shell struck the
ground about four
8 feet from my head in
a direct line plowed a ditch in the
ground on the top for 6 feet Then only four
feet from us it richocheted & just
marvelously glanced over our heads all
done of course with the quickness of lightning
the only harm that it did it almost drove
the dirt into the pores of our skin
making a sharp burning sensetion if
it had not glanced it must unavoidably
have struck my head or
shoulder on sunday morning we crossed
the river on pontoon bridges & found
the rebels close on the other side our
Company was sent out skirmishing & only
one man wounded while we were out
The rest of the regiment were engaged
& lost 54 killed & wounded They drove
the rebels however & killed & wounded
full as many of them we were skirmishing
by the flank & when the battle was going
on we were nearly in rear of the rebels the brush
was so thick where we was that we could
not see far ahead & we got too far round
to the right It is a wonder that when
The rebels retreated they did not happen
to come upon us & take us all prisoners
there was nothing in the world to
prevent them If they had known where
we were only one company of us we could
have offered but very little resistance
we were so much in the rear of them
that the bullets of our men came over
the rebels & whistled around us
we came out of the wood to an opening
& the rebels had retreated Then came
the scene of the killed & wounded I
can not describe it so I will not attempt
but if it may be called satisfaction I
saw many of the rebels in their death
agonies one poor fellow begged of us to
kill him he said he would rather be dead
than laying there Though they had been
fighting against us I thought it was enough
to soften the heart of the hardest man
to see even a rebel in such a condition.
Paper is very scarce I must stop I could fill
one volume nearly I shall not be able to
write home regular but you have the
chance of writing regular to me & I wish you
to do it | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 113 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 July 31 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I take the
opportunity of writing to you again We
are here in sight of Atlanta's spires but
do not yet occupy the city it appears that
the rebs are going to stand a siege I
am well I think that all their railroad
are cut all except the Macon road is at
least & that is reported to be. So I
think that a successful campaign is
commencing on Atlanta We have got
very good breastworks & so have the
enemy. I think there will be a short
delay here until the completion of the railroad
bridge across the Chattahoochie & the arrival
of heavy ordnance which is on the way
Our Corps has changed position since I
wrote last we evacuated our works on
the left & came here on the right &
on the west side of Atlanta You asked
me whose command I was under I am
in the 1st Brigade 2nd Div 16 Arm Corps
Gen Dodge Corps Commander Div Gen
Coarse Brigade Gen Rice. The
rebels have amused themselves by trying
to shell us with their siege guns but I
have not heard of their hurting anything
much with their 84 pound shell which
is occasionally thrown over us I think
it will not be long before they get some
pills of their own bigness & more than
they want. Gov Stone was here the
other day making stump speeches to
the boys I would have liked to have
heard him but we were on the
skirmish line We heard a good deal
of cheering & thought there must
be some good news so when we were relieved
at night we found out the cause. I
have seen the call for 500000 more men
& if they can be raised it is just
what we want to knock down the
staggering Confederacy It is time
for this thing to come to an end
& now is the time
The soldiers are getting exceeding
anxious if we have not men enough
let the country do its utmost to
furnish them & and help put on the
finishing touch to the rebellion
Write soon I can write no
more at present | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 114 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 September 9 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | It is some
time since I wrote but I have not
yet received any answer to my last letter
I should have wrote before but we couldnt
send away any mail & I was waiting for
the taking of Atlanta I still continue to
have the best of health & hope that you may
be all well I have passed safely through this
campaign for I suppose it is through now
as we have been down 10 miles below Janesboro
& have come back & taken our camp hero 6
miles from Atlanta You will see from the
papers the splendid movement of Gen Sherman
by which he so completely bamboosled the
rebs out of their stronghold cut their communica
tion>
& compelled them instead of their burying the
yankee army here as they boasted as they intende
to do to evacuate the town & make the best
of their way southward The whole 16th corps
worked on the Montgomery road for one day quiet
faithful the 7th Iowa had a fine time
destroying that road out to Fairburn,
18 miles fron Atlanta. It
was the first days
work that I ever did on the railway & I liked it first rate. In the morning we went
out without knapsacks
almost on the doublequick
for 8 or 9 miles to the town where we went
to work, and then went back at night.
Next day, the
2nd, 7th Iowa was ordered
to report to Kilpatrick to go with the
cavalry
as a support We did, and started
out with them when about noon we run
into some of the Johnnys. We captured a
negro that escaped from them &
he said
there were 1600 of them. They had a rail
bar
ricade in a large
cornfield We fired a few
shots with the 10 lb. Rodmans belonging
to the
cavalry, when the 2nd Iowa which
was in advance, immediately formed &
charged with a yell up to
the barricade &
took it, the rebs flying like the wind,
the 7th about
40 rods behind as a support. The
2nd lost a number
of men but I never
knew how many. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 115 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1864 October 22 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I have not
received a letter from you since we
left East Point but
suppose it must
be from the stoppage of the mails. Last
We have got good quarters
erected, we have a good house, good
roof, logs, floor and fireplace and all
fixed for winter but it is very doubt
ful whether we shall remain here or
not. We have been running round nearly
all the time since we have been here
and out into the country
about every other day scouting round.
You will see in the papers about the
Allatoona fight we should have been
in it but for a smash-up on the railroad
between Rome and
Kingston A train of
cars that was
coming up to get our Brigade
smashed all to pieces and thrown in every
direction by the spreading of the track about
9 miles from Rome. We
arrived there
about 2 hours too late. The contest was
over, ending in a most bloody repulse
of a hole division of rebels by a force
not exceeding 2500 of our men; the Third
Brigade of our division which left Rome the
evening before us was in the battle and suffer
ed severely. It was well for the rebels that
our brigade that the accident happened,
or we would have come up in their rear
which to them would have been somewhat
unpleasant. The sight of the battleground
was shocking, worse than anything I ever saw before. It was not a great
battle but
for the number of men engaged it was
as sharp as anything the present war
has seen. The ground was literally thick
with killed and wounded in many places,
so that a man could step
from one to another.
We got there at dark. It rained awfully &
the groaning of the wounded could be heard
all around us. I went to a spring
for water
to make coffee and nearly tumbled many
times over the bodies
of men in the dark.
I took a stroll next morning as soon as
day and the
sight was horrid. But enough
of this. I would like to get letters from home
if possible. We have had no pay yet and I
am out of paper and stamps, If you could send
me a little I would like it. There is some
reason for our not getting paid but I do
not know it. Probably the
unsettled state
of things makes it dangerous for paymasters
to travel. You said you could send me
the Tribune if I wanted it. Well, I
would
like to have it first rate. All the news we
get about Grant
is from the papers, &
nearly all other news, and it would be a good
thing to while away the hours of camp life
if we are going to have any.
Many of the
boys get papers sent. Reading matter of
any kind nearly is
a comfort in the army. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 116 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1865 March 29 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I received your letters
of the 15 Jan. and 21st Feb. on our
arrival here 2 days ago. I am very
well and have been on our march
and hope that
you may all be the
same. After having been cut off
from the civilized world for nearly
2 months we have again a chance
to communicate with our
friends
at home. Another terrible blow
has been struck at the reeling
con
federacy and I suppose that
Sherman has halted only to gather
new
strength to strike another
and more destructive one than
the last. It is
understood that
Sherman has gone to Fortress
Monroe. I could not vouch
for the
truth of it. I cannot tell how
long we will remain here, but I
don't
expect to stay long. Schofield
first occupied Goldsboro. We were
fighting the rebels at the time about 28 miles northwest of the town
which
were concentrated there. It was the
only fight of any magnitude that
we had. Johnston is said to have
had about 40,000
men. The rebels
the first day of the fight rather whipped
the 14 and
28th Corps from all reports.
I don't know as it was any victory to
the
rebels but the 2 Corps were brought
to a halt and that is so unusual
that we termed it a whip. I can show
the
position occupied at the first
day's fight.[1]
The rebels decidely
outnumbered the
2 Corps. Reports say that they charged
the 14 Corps 4
times, they were all impregnated
with a solution of gunpowder and
whisky.
The 14 Corps had rail barricades and
killed a great many of the
rebels.
They
shot deliberate, nearly all the rebels were
hit in the breast or
head, but you
will learn all this from your papers. I wish we had the
same privilege of reading
the news that you have, a paper is a
rarity. I
think that there is a
good prospect of having peace before long.
I think
that the rebellion is played out, as
the term is in the army. I guess
that
Davis, Lee and crew begin to see that
it is a failure and I am
satisfied
that the southern people and
the privates in their army almost
exclusively desire
peace. As they
fail we gain strength. There never
was an army more
confident
than
Sherman's. I believe that when
he leaves here he will have an army
sufficient to cope with the whole
confederate army of Lee, Johnston
combined. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 117 | Author: | Senior, Charles Berry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Charles Berry Senior to his Father, 1865 June 27 | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Description: | I will
write a few lines to let you
know I am well, and I
hope you may all be in the
enjoyment of good health. We
are still at the same camp
ground about 6 miles east of
Louisville. I don't know how
long we shall remain here but
I hope we shall soon be permitted
to go home. Six men of our
company are gone home on furlough.
The orders are to furlough 12 per
cent of the army. I see that some
of this army are to be mustered
out. I don't venture to say who
it may be, nor dont make any
calculations. disappointment
has already been deep enough
but still I hope that we might
be once lucky I hope that I
shall get home sometime this
summer. It is the general
impression that our regiment
stands a good chance as they
are one of the oldest veteran organ
izations, only one regiment from
Iowa being older, the 2nd
I had made calculations of
spending the 4th of July some
where in Iowa but that
cannot be. They are making
quiet extensive preparations
at the Louisville fair grounds
for celebrating the 4th I
presume we will be nearer
Louisville than
Iowa
I remember how we spent the
last 4th down on the Chatta
hoochie, exposed to shell and
bullets while we were throwing up
breastworks we made remarks, and wondered
where we would be next 4th. Well
things are much changed for
the better since then and I
can spend this 4th more pleas
antly probably than the last
yet I think the next 4th will
be better yet The weather
is very warm here but here
we have a good camp with
splendid beech shade trees
to lounge under on the grass, I
have not heard from you since
leaving Washington I have
wrote a number of letters
I suppose you were expecting
me home, but never stop writing
till I get there. There has
happened quiet a slip between
the cup and the lip.[1]
We are camped near the
Woodlawn race courses, where
trotting matches are going on
I have not been since the running
races closed which was 2 weeks
ago, trotting only commenced
yesterday. I had the luck
of seeing the fastest horses
in America run, one Asteroid
that has never been beat, but
I must close, as I know of
nothing more at present | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 118 | Author: | Scott, Tibby | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Liberian Letters: Tibby Scott to Dr. James H. Minor 1858 January
8 | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | UVA-LIB-Liberianletters | | | | Description: | i drop you thes few lines
i hope you and all of your family are enjoying the
blesing of helth
and my love to them all
i am quit well and soe is my fam ily
at prezen
and thay send thear love to all
i like the country Right wel and
i find it Better than i
exspected and the wether is
quit plesant and
comforttable and we need our warm clothing
here as well as we did in the
states
my helth has bin quite Bad and i have Bin quit sick ofton and
on But thank god my helth
is Better we have great meny and diffrent kinds of
vetgable
grooes here Eudoos and
Cassavdoes
swet
pototoe and
plantin banneanna
and some times rice and corn these
ar our breadstuf and
we have beans and peas cabbag grens
rowpar
ocra
we can rais
cowever and sevrel
kindes of veg talle
Frouits of all kinds grooes
here too fine apples
gaugeous cheeres and oranges
lemmon meat is hard to get her
i did not get eny grocers
ataul but 2 Barrel of
flooer if you Pleas to send me too Barels of pork
one barrel of
fish one barrel of of suggar and box of soap and a keg of Butter and too Barrel of flooer and i than
k you if you [illeg.]
pleas to me some calicoes and gengeams and some [illeg.]
stuf to mak my Boys some
clothes as
aid not have eny come out and
shoes
Milvey ask youe if youe
pleas to send her a white
foorved muslin drees and
pleas to
send a Bonneet and
mantilar and some whit shirting and
some bed tick and a
coun ter pin and my love to all
esspeashly
aunt Rachel
if you pleas to send me
some gardon seds my love to
Willam
and Joe and we all Desire to hear
from and wish for them to wright to me and
Mr Marress
family
thomes and
Brobert send thear love to [illeg.]
Willam
and for Milvy and Mary also hows all the Neigbors | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 119 | Author: | Scott, Mary | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Liberian Letters: Mary Scott to Dr. James H. Minor 1858 January
21 | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | UVA-LIB-Liberianletters | | | | Description: | i Drop you these few lines and i
hope that thay may finde
you and family well as it leaves me at pres ent
and i enjoy good helth at this tim
and My Respects to all enquiring
frendes and to Mrs Mary and Children if you Be pleas
to send mee one Barrel of Bacon and one Barel of flooer one
Barrel of fish a keg of Buter a Barrel of Suggar and if you Be
pleas to send me a Bonnet And a Counter Pin
Pleas to send me a Blue Barage2 Dress and some Lawn and geigem and a Roll of Bleach Cotton and
3 Pair of Shoes and Stocking
is you Please and Ball of
figerd
White Ribbon and if you Pleas Sir to
Direct our letters and things to
Carys Burg
is you Pleas
Sir | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 120 | Author: | Scott, David | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Liberian Letters: David Scott to Dr. James H. Minor 1858 January
28 | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | UVA-LIB-Liberianletters | | | | Description: | I am well and I hope this may find you and family in the finest of
health as it leaves me. I Should have written you but time and chance
did not admit. I now must
tele you something about Liberia, this will be a
find country in time to come
all we want is in dustrious men and
religious persons to carry out the object that is design for Liberia. I am now building
a small house on my lot which I hope will be done in short. I think
many of the friends have written
almost everything to you which will interest you, so I will not pick
up many things as they did. Brother Thomas Scott
is dead and I hope he is gone to heaven. Brother Willi am Douglass and family is well and doing well as it can be
expected for we, new persons for this country. Mr. S.
Carr
have build a small house for himself and
family. Mr. Hugh Walker Sr.
have also build and is living in it. If
you pleased to be so kind as to send me, 1 box of leaf tobacco 1 piece of bleached cotton, 1 piece of pantaloons
stuff and two pair of shoes, one pair of coarse and pair fine no.
ll's: half barrel pork and one piece of Caleco. I should written long and more of the news
about Liberia but time is very short
and precious, as I hear the ship will
leave Saturday so you see I cannot say much at this time. My regards
to yourself and family and es pecially to
little Tommy and all the enquiring friends. All
my love to Roda, Caroline,
and
El ly
, to Ann Rachel and I very often think
about her. And all my, to Mr.
H. Lewis
I should like to see him very much but I think about two
years from now I shall try todoso if I should
be spared by the assistant of God Almighty. I
am very glad to hear that you had the very fine wheat crop on the mountain that I sowed for you before
I left
home, I have killed killed 5 deers
since I have been on the mountain one day before I wrote. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 121 | Author: | Scott, Mary | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Liberian Letters: Mary Scott to Elizabeth Minor 1858 December | | | | Published: | 1999 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | UVA-LIB-Liberianletters | | | | Description: | My Deare I recive your
letter an was glad to her from
you I hope these lines will find well as
these leave me & mother
Elzibeth
I am in Africa
an is well satfid this is
the Country for the
Culore raice My deare I
do wich I could see your fasce again, o, Miss
Elzibeth
most evey thing Grows in this Country
oringes peach
wasnots most very thing. I did
leave
Careys burg
in dec 1858
to go to the fane. I did not
Beleave that it was somany
thing heare in this Country I have ben goin to Choole but I have ben
employed to wait on the amegrant in the Resepticel My Choole
teacher name, Miss
Julet Hazzit.
I have lost my Deare Brother he is dead
he is dead he left a Good
test tamony behind he died happy. very happy indeed
when you write again please write me all the
Strange nose you did write A short letter to me
before please tell
Mrs Sarah Loois
I have
written her an never recive no anser. Give my love to your Mother an Father. Give love to Maly & Roday tell them tha must write
to me
Bety Walker says tell Roday as she did not write me
write before
please rite when the ship return.
Give my love to
An Rachel
tell her I
off time think of her I
give my love to all the frieds Mother send all
love to you all
Mary Jane & Sarah send their love to
Ant Rachel | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 122 | Author: | Southall, Adeline | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Liberian Letters: Adeline Southall to Dr. James H. Minor 1859
February 17 | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | UVA-LIB-Liberianletters | | | | Description: | I Receive the things you sent & thank you kindly I got the half of the things you sent the Calico & Flannel & Shues & Stockings & my sister Lucy got the other half I wish you would Send me a Keg o
Flouring nails & Brod Axe & Sume Door hinges
& anything you have money to get them with
I have my Lot Cut down & want to put up a House as I have no
place of my own I am Cooking for the
Society
now but do not know how Long & would Like to have my
own House to go into
Pleas to Send Some Bead
ticken & Sume blue Cotton
& Cloths for
Horras
1 & a hat 2 Peices
muslin 1 ps
unbleched one
do
Bleach 1 Box Soap as it is Scarce hear
I would like to have Sume
Hank enchiefs
Sume Cotton & Sume
Linnen & a pair Shues
for
Horras
Please Send Sume Leaf tobacco
& a Piece a
Calico
give my Love
Sister Susan that I am well & Like the
Country very well
Horras
is well & goas to School
Evary Day
give my Love to my Husband Henry Southhall & tell him I am not married yet
& miss him
vary much & Like him to come out Please Send me a Door Lock & Pad Lock | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 124 | Author: | Scott, Tibby and Scott, Mary | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Liberian Letters: Tibey Scott and Mary Scott to James H. Minor
and Elizabeth Minor 1860 January 19 | | | | Published: | 1999 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | UVA-LIB-Liberianletters | | | | Description: | Deare Sir I write you these lines to inform you of
my health wich is quite well. I hope these lines
will find you all well in health. My Best respects to Joseph Tarel
William Tarel
Mr Thomas Estres
family
Liess
Harris
family & Julia A
Ann Haliaday & her servient
&
saddy
in particular My children all is well
Mary & Milred
& Robert & Thomas Send thar best love to you all.
we
lik the country very well
our littel town are inproven very much with amegrants at
this time. Both of the Boys gos to chule we have the pleasur of
goin to church three times as week.
our pastur is a
pastur from
Richmond
I received the thing you sent
us 3 pare of
shoes, 1 keg of [hole in ms.]
you have ay thing els to
send me please send me some cloth for my boys such as cotton cloth to make
for &
any thing
els you think we stand need of & some white
cloth. Mr Minor
fare well fare well
if we never meet on erth no mor I hop to meet you in
heaven whare partin will be no more | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 125 | Author: | Smith, Mary Stuart | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letter from Mary Stuart Smith to Rosalie Thornton, May 3, 1896 [a
machine-readable transcription] | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Description: | I have been
wanting to write to you ever so long, but
will not take up limited time and space
with uninteresting excuses. I have simply
overburdened myself, and have to cry
"Mea Culpa!" in regard to many,
many omissions of duty. I know you
will be glad to hear that I got old
Mr Cummings again at work upon
our sections in the cemetery & it
looks so neat and clean, walks
all around it, included, that I
only wish you could see it before
the summer drought spoils everything.
Of course I had to resow grass seed,
for it just seems as if grass will not
retain its hold there, on account of
too much shade and the inevitable
summer droughts. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 127 | Author: | United States | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Declaration of Independence [a machine-readable transcription] | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Description: | When in the Course of human Events, it becomes necessary for one
People to dissolve the Political Bands which have connected them
with another, and to assume among the Powers of the Earth, the
separate and equal Station to which the Laws of Nature and of
Nature's God entitle them, a decent Respect to the Opinions of
Mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel
them to the Separation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 161 | Author: | Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Rape of Lucrece | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Lucius Tarquinius, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus,
after he had caused his own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be
cruelly murdered, and, contrary to the Roman laws and customs,
not requiring or staying for the people's suffrages, had
possessed himself of the kingdom, went, accompanied with his sons
and other noblemen of Rome, to besiege Ardea. During which siege
the principal men of the army meeting one evening at the tent of
Sextus Tarquinius, the king's son, in their discourses after
supper every one commended the virtues of his own wife: among
whom Collatinus extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife
Lucretia. In that pleasant humour they posted to Rome; and
intending, by their secret and sudden arrival, to make trial of
that which every one had before avouched, only Collatinus finds
his wife, though it were late in the night, spinning amongst her
maids: the other ladies were all found dancing and revelling, or
in several disports. Whereupon the noblemen yielded Collatinus
the victory, and his wife the fame. At that time Sextus
Tarquinius being inflamed with Lucrece' beauty, yet smothering
his passions for the present, departed with the rest back to the
camp; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and
was, according to his estate, royally entertained and lodged by
Lucrece at Collatium. The same night he treacherously stealeth
into her chamber, violently ravished her, and early in the
morning speedeth away. Lucrece, in this lamentable plight,
hastily dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for her father,
another to the camp for Collatine. They came, the one
accompanied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius;
and finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause
of her sorrow. She, first taking an oath of them for her
revenge, revealed the actor, and whole manner of his dealing, and
withal suddenly stabbed herself. Which done, with one consent
they all vowed to root out the whole hated family of the
Tarquins; and bearing the dead body to Rome, Brutus acquainted
the people with the doer and manner of the vile deed, with a
bitter invective against the tyranny of the king: wherewith the
people were so moved, that with one consent and a general
acclamation the Tarquins were all exiled, and the state
government changed from kings to consuls. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 164 | Author: | Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Romeo and Juliet | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 170 | Author: | Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Troilus and Cressida | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore
Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay
Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made
To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel.
To Tenedos they come;
And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
And Antenorides, with massy staples
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperr up the sons of Troy.
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come
A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited
In like conditions as our argument,
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
Beginning in the middle, starting thence away
To what may be digested in a play.
Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are:
Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 175 | Author: | Saint-Pierre, Bernadin de | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Studies of Nature | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | The wretchedness of the lower orders is, therefore, the
principal source of our physical and moral maladies. There
is another, no less fertile in mischief, I mean the education
of children. This branch of political economy engaged,
among the ancients, the attention of the greatest legislators;
with us education has no manner of reference to the constitution
of the state. In early life are formed the inclinations
and aversions which influence the whole of our existence.
Our first affections are likewise the last; they accompany us
through life, reappear in old age, and then revive the sensibilities
of childhood with still greater force than those of
mature age. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 176 | Author: | Sadlier, Anna T. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Arabella | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Arabella stood thoughtfully there on that ridge of land, where the brown
earth was studded with daisies and mulleins, the common children of the soil.
The sky was a clear gold at the horizon, and Arabella, gazing thereon, pondered
on something she had just heard. She had suddenly become an heiress. She
looked down on her plain, brown frock, at her coarse shoes, and at her hands
roughened by work about the house. She had been the orphan, the charity-child,
and now — | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 180 | Author: | Schwatka, Frederick | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Sun-Dance of the Sioux | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | A FEW years ago it was the good fortune of the writer to witness,
at the Spotted Tail Indian Agency, on Beaver Creek, Nebraska, the
ceremony of the great sun-dance of the Sioux. Perhaps eight
thousand Brule Sioux were quartered at the agency at that time, and
about forty miles to the west, near the head of the White River,
there was another reservation of Sioux, numbering probably a
thousand or fifteen hundred less Ordinarily each tribe or
reservation has its own celebration of the sun-dance; but owing to
the nearness of these two
agencies it was this year thought
best to join forces and celebrate the savage rites with unwonted
splendor and barbarity. Nearly half way between the reservations
the two forks of the Chadron (or Shadron) creek form a wide plain,
which was chosen as the site of the great sun-dance. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 181 | Author: | Scott, Walter Dill, 1869-1955 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Psychology of Advertising | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE only method of advertising known to the ancients was the word of
mouth. The merchant who had wares to offer brought them to the gate of
a city and there cried aloud, making the worth of his goods known to
those who were entering the city, and who might be induced to turn aside
and purchase them. We are not more amused by the simplicity of the
ancients than we are amazed at the magnitude of the modern systems of
advertising. From the day when Boaz took his stand by the gate to
advertise Naomi's parcel of land by crying, "Ho, . . . turn aside," to
the day when Barnum billed the towns for his three-ringed circus, the
evolution in advertising had been gradual, but it had been as great as
that from the anthropoid ape to P. T. Barnum himself. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 182 | Author: | Shaw, Charles Gray | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Dostoievsky's Mystical Terror | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IT is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God,
but that is what happened to Fydor Dostoievsky. It was not Russia,
vast, fantastic, terrible, but real existence as such which wrung from
his soul his tales of self-inquisition. "Reality has caught me upon a
hook"; this chance expression in one of his romances of reality is the
confessed secret of the anguished author. Dostoievsky is Russia, and
"the Russian soul is a dark place." Having said this of his own land,
Dostoievsky, without playing upon Amiel's pretty epigram, "the landscape
is a state of the soul," proceeds to show us how the outer darkness
pervades his own soul. He knows not why, but at dusk there comes over
him an oppressive and agonizing state of mind difficult to define, but
recognizable in the form of "mystical terror." Because of his
pessimistic realism, Dostoievsky is not to be understood by any attempt
to force his stubborn thought into the pens of conventional literature;
"standard authors" afford us no analogies, so that it is only by
relating the Russian to Job, Ezekiel, and the author of the Apocalypse
that we are able to make headway in reading Dostoievsky. Hoffmann, Poe,
and Baudelaire played with the terrible as a boy plays with toy spiders
and snakes; but their soul-states knew no Siberias, their mental hides
escaped the hooks of reality. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 188 | Author: | Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1797-1851 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frankenstein | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an
enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here
yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and
increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 190 | Author: | Simmel, Georg, 1858-1918 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | How is Society Possible? | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Kant could propose and answer the fundamental question of his
philosophy, How is nature possible?, only because for him nature
was nothing but the representation (Vorstellung) of nature. This
does not mean merely that "the world is my representation," that
we thus can speak of nature only so far as it is a content of our
consciousness, but that what we call nature is a special way in
which our intellect assembles, orders, and forms the
sense-perceptions. These "given" perceptions, of color, taste,
tone, temperature, resistance, smell, which in the accidental
sequence of subjective experience course through our
consciousness, are in and of themselves not yet "nature;" but
they become "nature" through the activity of the mind, which
combines them into objects and series of objects, into substances
and attributes and into causal coherences. As the elements of the
world are given to us immediately, there does not exist among
them, according to Kant, that coherence (Verbindung) which alone
can make out of them the intelligible regular (gesetzmassig)
unity of nature; or rather, which signifies precisely the
being-nature (Natur-Sein) of those in themselves incoherently and
irregularly emerging world-fragments. Thus the Kantian
world-picture grows in the most peculiar rejection (Wiederspiel),
Our sense-impressions are for this process purely subjective,
since they depend upon the physico-psychical organization, which
in other beings might be different, but they become "objects"
since they are taken up by the forms of our intellect, and by
these are fashioned into fixed regularities and into a coherent
picture of "nature." On the other hand, however, those
perceptions are the real "given," the unalterably accumulating
content of the world and the assurance of an existence
independent of ourselves, so that now those very intellectual
formings of the same into objects, coherences, regularities,
appear as subjective, as that which is brought to the situation
by ourselves, in contrast with that which we have received from
the externally existent - i.e., these formings appear as the
functions of the intellect itself, which in themselves
unchangeable, had constructed from another sense-material a
nature with another content. Nature is for Kant a definite sort
of cognition, a picture growing through and in our cognitive
categories. The question then, How is nature possible?, i.e.,
what are the conditions which must be present in order that a
"nature" may be given, is resolved by him through discovery of
the forms which constitute the essence of our intellect and
therewith bring into being "nature" as such. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 191 | Author: | Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Jungle | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | It was four o'clock when the ceremony was over and the carriages began
to arrive. There had been a crowd following all the way, owing to the
exuberance of Marija Berczynskas. The occasion rested heavily upon
Marija's broad shoulders—it was her task to see that all things went
in due form, and after the best home traditions; and, flying wildly
hither and thither, bowling every one out of the way, and scolding and
exhorting all day with her tremendous voice, Marija was too eager to
see that others conformed to the proprieties to consider them herself.
She had left the church last of all, and, desiring to arrive first at
the hall, had issued orders to the coachman to drive faster. When that
personage had developed a will of his own in the matter, Marija had
flung up the window of the carriage, and, leaning out, proceeded to tell
him her opinion of him, first in Lithuanian, which he did not understand,
and then in Polish, which he did. Having the advantage of her in altitude,
the driver had stood his ground and even ventured to attempt to speak;
and the result had been a furious altercation, which, continuing all the
way down Ashland Avenue, had added a new swarm of urchins to the cortege
at each side street for half a mile. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 197 | Author: | Spooner, Lysander | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | No Treason: The Constitution of No Authority | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | The Constitution has no inherent authority or obligation. It has no
authority or obligation at all, unless as a contract between man and
man. And it does not so much as even purport to be a contract between
persons now existing. It purports, at most, to be only a contract
between persons living eighty years ago. [This essay was written in
1869.] And it can be supposed to have been a contract then only between
persons who had already come to years of discretion, so as to be
competent to make reasonable and obligatory contracts. Furthermore,
we know, historically, that only a small portion even of the people
then existing were consulted on the subject, or asked, or permitted to
express either their consent or dissent in any formal manner. Those
persons, if any, who did give their consent formally, are all dead now.
Most of them have been dead forty, fifty, sixty, or seventy years. And
The constitution, so far as it was their contract, died with them. They
had no natural power or right to make it obligatory upon their children.
It is not only plainly impossible, in the nature of things, that they
Could bind their posterity, but they did not even attempt to bind them.
That is to say, the instrument does not purport to be an agreement
between any body but "the people" THEN existing; nor does it, either
expressly or impliedly, assert any right, power, or disposition, on their
part, to bind anybody but themselves. Let us see. Its language is:
We, the people of the United States (that is, the people then existing
in the United States), in order to form a more perfect union, insure
domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the
general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves
And our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the
United States of America. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 198 | Author: | Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Across the Plains: With Other Memories and Essays | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | MONDAY. -It was, if I remember rightly, five o'clock when we were
all signalled to be present at the Ferry Depot of the railroad. An
emigrant ship had arrived at New York on the Saturday night,
another on the Sunday morning, our own on Sunday afternoon, a
fourth early on Monday; and as there is no emigrant train on Sunday
a great part of the passengers from these four ships was
concentrated on the train by which I was to travel. There was a
babel of bewildered men, women, and children. The wretched little
booking-office, and the baggage-room, which was not much larger,
were crowded thick with emigrants, and were heavy and rank with the
atmosphere of dripping clothes. Open carts full of bedding stood
by the half-hour in the rain. The officials loaded each other with
recriminations. A bearded, mildewed little man, whom I take to
have been an emigrant agent, was all over the place, his mouth full
of brimstone, blustering and interfering. It was plain that the
whole system, if system there was, had utterly broken down under
the strain of so many passengers. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 201 | Author: | Steinmetz, Andrew | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Gaming Table: Its Votaries and Victims,
In All Times and Countries, especially in England and in France | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | A VERY apt allegory has been imagined as the origin of Gaming.
It is said that the Goddess of Fortune, once sporting near the shady pool
of Olympus, was met by the gay and captivating God of War, who soon
allured her to his arms. They were united; but the matrimony was not
holy, and the result of the union was a misfeatured child named Gaming.
From the moment of her birth this wayward thing could only be pleased
by cards, dice, or counters. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 202 | Author: | Stewart, Elinore Pruitt | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letters of a Woman Homesteader | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Are you thinking I am lost, like the Babes
in the Wood? Well, I am not and I'm sure
the robins would have the time of their lives
getting leaves to cover me out here. I am
'way up close to the Forest Reserve of Utah,
within half a mile of the line, sixty miles
from the railroad. I was twenty-four hours
on the train and two days on the stage, and
oh, those two days! The snow was just be-ginning to melt and the mud was about the
worst I ever heard of. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 203 | Author: | Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was
never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in
discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and
yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was
to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye;
something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but
which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner
face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was
austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a
taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had not
crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approved
tolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at
the high pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in
any extremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. "I incline
to Cain's heresy," he used to say quaintly: "I let my brother go
to the devil in his own way." In this character, it was
frequently his fortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and
the last good influence in the lives of downgoing men. And to
such as these, so long as they came about his chambers, he never
marked a shade of change in his demeanour. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 204 | Author: | Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Silverado Squatters | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE scene of this little book is on a high mountain. There
are, indeed, many higher; there are many of a nobler outline.
It is no place of pilgrimage for the summary globe-trotter;
but to one who lives upon its sides, Mount Saint Helena soon
becomes a centre of interest. It is the Mont Blanc of one
section of the Californian Coast Range, none of its near
neighbours rising to one-half its altitude. It looks down on
much green, intricate country. It feeds in the spring-time
many splashing brooks. From its summit you must have an
excellent lesson of geography: seeing, to the south, San
Francisco Bay, with Tamalpais on the one hand and Monte
Diablo on the other; to the west and thirty miles away, the
open ocean; eastward, across the corn-lands and thick tule
swamps of Sacramento Valley, to where the Central Pacific
railroad begins to climb the sides of the Sierras; and
northward, for what I know, the white head of Shasta looking
down on Oregon. Three counties, Napa County, Lake County,
and Sonoma County, march across its cliffy shoulders. Its
naked peak stands nearly four thousand five hundred feet
above the sea; its sides are fringed with forest; and the
soil, where it is bare, glows warm with cinnabar. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 206 | Author: | Schurz, Carl, 1829-1906 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Abraham Lincoln : an essay | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | NO American can study the character and career of Abraham Lincoln without being
carried away by sentimental emotions. We are always inclined to idealize that
which we love,—a state of mind very unfavorable to the exercise of
sober critical judgment. It is therefore not surprising that most of those who
have written or spoken on that extraordinary man, even while conscientiously
endeavoring to draw a lifelike portraiture of his being, and to form a just
estimate of his public conduct, should have drifted into more or less
indiscriminating eulogy, painting his great features in the most glowing colors,
and covering with tender shadings whatever might look like a blemish. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 208 | Author: | Shillaber, Benjamin Penhallow | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Life and Sayings of Mrs. Partington and others of the family | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | NOW, Isaac," said Mrs. Partington, as she came into the room with a
basket snugly covered over, "take our Tabby, and drop her somewhere, and see
that she don't come back again, for I am sick and tired of driving her out of
the butter. She is the thievinest creatur! But don't hurt her, Isaac; only take
care that she don't come back." | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 209 | Author: | Smith, F. Hopkinson | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Tom Grogan | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | SOMETHING worried Babcock. One could see that from the impatient gesture with
which he turned away from the ferry window on learning he had half an hour to
wait. He paced the slip with hands deep in his pockets, his head on his chest.
Every now and then he stopped, snapped open his watch and shut it again quickly,
as if to hurry the lagging minutes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 214 | Author: | Stewart, Calvin | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Uncle Josh Weathersby's "Punkin Centre Stories" | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE author was born in Virginia, on a little patch of land, so poor we had to
fertilize it to make brick. Our family, while having cast their fortunes with
the South, was not a family ruined by the war; we did not have anything when the
war commenced, and so we held our own. I secured a common school education, and
at the age of twelve I left home, or rather home left me—things just
petered out. I was slush cook on an Ohio River Packet; check clerk in a stave
and heading camp in the knobs of Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia; I helped lay
the track of the M. K. & T. R. R., and was chambermaid in a livery
stable. Made my first appearance on the stage at the National Theatre in
Cincinnati, Ohio, and have since then chopped cord wood, worked in a coal mine,
made cross ties (and walked them), worked on a farm, taught a district school
(made love to the big girls), run a threshing machine, cut bands,
fed the machine and ran the engine. Have been a freight and passenger brakeman,
fired and ran a locomotive; also a freight train conductor and check clerk in a
freight house; worked on the section; have been a shot gun messenger for the
Wells, Fargo Company. Have been with a circus, minstrels, farce comedy,
burlesque and dramatic productions; have been with good shows, bad shows,
medicine shows, and worse, and some shows where we had landlords singing in the
chorus. Have played variety houses and vaudeville houses; have slept in a box
car one night, and a swell hotel the next; have been a traveling salesman (could
spin as many yarns as any of them). For the past four years have made the Uncle
Josh stories for the talking machine. The Lord only knows what next! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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