| 2 | Author: | Hawthorne
Nathaniel
1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Gentle Boy :  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In the course of the year 1656, several of the people called
Quakers, led, as they professed, by the inward movement of the spirit,
made their appearance in New England. Their reputation, as holders
of mystic and pernicious principles, having spread before them, the
Puritans early endeavored to banish, and to prevent the further intrusion
of the rising sect. But the measures by which it was intended
to purge the land of heresy, though more than sufficiently vigorous,
were entirely unsuccessful. The Quakers, esteeming persecution as a
divine call to the post of danger, laid claim to a holy courage, unknown
to the Puritans themselves, who had shunned the cross, by providing
for the peaceable exercise of their religion in a distant wilderness.
Though it was the singular fact, that every nation of the earth rejected
the wandering enthusiasts who practised peace towards all men,
the place of greatest uneasiness and peril, and therefore in their eyes
the most eligible, was the province of Massachusetts Bay. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | University of Virginia.
Library | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | General index annual reports on historical collections University of Virginia Library | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | This index will serve as a partial guide to the manuscripts acquired by the University
of Virginia between 1 July 1945 and 30 June 1950 as briefly described in the
Annual Report. It should be borne in mind that only the smallest of the collections
received have been described in great detail in these pages, and the index furnishes
only the names and subjects which appear in the printed description. For the
larger collections, it is hoped that the names and subjects are at least representative;
but the researcher who needs an exhaustive analysis of a collection will be obliged
to visit the manuscript reading room to consult the card catalogue or the original
manuscripts. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 6 | Author: | Flint
Timothy
1780-1840 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | George Mason, the young backwoodsman, or, 'Don't give up the ship" | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Widow, who weepest sore in the night, and whose
tears are on thy cheeks, because thy young children are
fatherless, and the husband of thy bosom and thy youth
in the dust, dry thy tears. Remember Him, who hath
promised to be the husband of the widow, and take
courage. Orphan, who hast seen thy venerated father
taken from thee by the rude hand of death, and whose
thought is, that in the wide world, there is none to love,
pity, or protect thee, forget not the gracious Being, who
has promised to be a father to the orphan, and remember,
that thy business in life is, not to give up to weak
and enervating despondence, and waste thy strength in
sorrow and tears. Life is neither an anthem nor a
funeral hymn, but an assigned task of discipline and
struggle, and thou hast to gird thyself, and go to thy
duty in the strength of God. I write for the young,
the poor, and the desolate; and the moral and the maxim
which I wish to inculcate is, that we ought never to
despond, either in our religious or our temporal trials.
To parents I would say, inculcate the spirit, the duties,
and the hopes of religion upon your children in the
morning and the evening, in the house and by the way.
Instil decision and moral courage into their young bosoms.
Teach them incessantly the grand maxim—self-respect.
It will go farther to gain them respect, and
render them deserving of it, than the bequeathed stores
of hoarded coffers. A child, deeply imbued with self-respect,
will never disgrace his parents. The inculcation
of this single point includes, in my view, the best
scope of education. If my powers corresponded to my
wishes, I would impress these thoughts in the following
brief and unpretending story. The reader will see, if
he knows the country, where it is laid, as I do, that it
is true to nature. He will comprehend my motive for
not being more explicit on many points; and he will not
turn away with indifference from the short and simple
annals of the poor, for he will remember, that nine in
ten of our brethren of the human race are of that class.
He will not dare to despise the lowly tenants of the valley,
where the Almighty, in his wisdom, has seen fit to
place the great mass of our race. It has been for ages
the wicked, and unfeeling, and stupid habit of writers,
in selecting their scenery and their examples, to act as
if they supposed that the rich, the titled, and the distinguished,
who dwell in mansions, and fare sumptuously
every day, were the only persons, who could display
noble thinking and acting; that they were the only characters,
whose loves, hopes, fortunes, sufferings, and
deeds had any thing in them, worthy of interest, or
sympathy. Who, in reading about these favorites of
fortune, remembers that they constitute but one in ten
thousand of the species? Even those of humble name
and fortunes have finally caught the debasing and enslaving
prejudice themselves, and exult in the actions,
and shed tears of sympathy over the sorrows of the
titled and the great, which, had they been recorded of
1*
those in their own walk of life, would have been viewed
either with indifference or disgust. I well know that
the poor can act as nobly, and suffer as bitterly and
keenly as the rich. There is as much strength and
force and truth of affection in cottages as in palaces.
I am a man, and as such, am affected with the noble
actions, the joys and sorrows, the love and death of the
obscure, as much as of the great. If there be any difference,
the deeds, affections, fortunes, and sufferings of
the former have more interest; for they are unprompted
by vanity, unblazoned by fame, unobscured by affectation,
unalloyed by pride and avarice. The actings of
the heart are sincere, simple, single. God alone has
touched the pendulum with his finger, and the vibrations
are invariably true to the purpose of Him who
made the movement. If, therefore, reader, you feel
with me, you will not turn away with indifference from
this, my tale, because you are forewarned, that none of
the personages are rich or distinguished. You will believe,
that a noble heart can swell in a bosom clad in
the meanest habiliments. You will admit the truth as
well as the beauty of the poet's declaration, respecting
the gems of the sea, and the roses that “waste their
sweetness on the desert air;” and you will believe,
that incidents, full of tender and solemn interest, have
occurred in a log cabin in the forests of the Mississippi. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 7 | Author: | Herbert
Henry William
1807-1858 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Guarica, the charib bride | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | The heavy dew of the tropics was yet
lying bright and unexhaled on every herb
and flower; myriads of which, in most
profuse variety of odor and bloom, strewed,
like one gorgeous carpet, the beautiful savannahs,
and wild forest glades of the fair
province of Cahay. The sun had not fairly
risen, although the warm and rosy light
which harbingered his coming, was tinging,
with its fairy dyes, the small and fleecy
clouds that floated, like the isles of some
enchanted sea, over the azure skies. The
faint sea-breeze, which murmured still
among the fresh green leaves, though it
was fast subsiding, was laden with perfumes
of such strange richness, that while
they gratified they almost cloyed the
senses; birds of the most superb and gorgeous
plumage were glancing, meteor-like,
among the boughs; but the innumerable
insect tribes, which almost rival
them in beauty, had not as yet been called
forth to their life of a day, by the young
sunbeams. The loveliness of those sequestered
haunts, which had but recently
been opened to the untiring and insatiate
avarice of the Europeans, exceeded the
most wild conceptions, the most voluptuous
dreams, of the romancer or the poet. The
solemn verdure of the mighty woods thick
set with trees, more graceful than the
shades of those ægean Isles, where the
Ionian muse was born to witch the world
for ages—the light and feathery mimosas,
the fan-like heads of the tall palms, towering
a hundred feet above their humbler, yet
still lofty brethren—the giant oaks, their
whole trunks overgrown with thousands of
bright parasites, and their vast branches
canopied with vines and creepers—masses
of tangled and impervious foliage—the natural
lawns, watered by rills of crystal—
the rocks, that reared themselves among
the forests, mantled not as the crags of the
cold northern climes, with dark and melancholy
ivy, but with festoons of fruits and
flowers that might have graced the gardens
of the fabulous Hesperides. It was
upon such a scene, as is but imperfectly
and feebly shadowed forth, in the most
glowing language, that the sweet dawn
was breaking, when, from a distance,
through the lovely woodlands, the mellow
notes of a horn, clearly and scientifically
winded, came floating on the gentle air;
again it pealed forth its wild cadences,
nearer and louder than before—and then
the deep and ringing bay of a full mouthed
hound succeeded. Scarcely had the first
echo of the woods replied to the unwonted
sounds, before a beautiful, slight hind, forcing
her way through a dense thicket of
briers, dashed with the speed of mortal terror
into the centre of a small savannah,
through which stole almost silently a broad
bright rivulet of very limpid water. Pausing
for a second's space upon the brink, the
delicate creature stood, with its swan-like
neck curved backward, its thin ear erect,
its full black eye dilated, and its expanded
nostrils snuffing the tainted breeze. It was
but for a second that she stood; for the next
moment a louder and more boisterous crash
arose from the direction whence she had
first appeared—the blended tongues of
several hounds running together on a hot
and recent trail. Tossing her head aloft,
she gathered her slight limbs under her,
sprung at one vigorous and elastic bound
over the rivulet, and was lost instantly to
view among the thickets of the further
side. A few minutes elapsed during which
the fierce baying of the hounds came quicker
and more sharply on the ear; and then,
from the same brake out of which the bind
had started, rushed, with his eyes glowing
lika coals of fire, his head high in the air,
and his long feathery tail lashing his tawny
sides, a formidable blood hound, of that savage
breed which was, in after times, so
brutally employed against the hapless Indians
by their Christian conquerors. Another,
and another, and a fourth succeeded,
making the vaulted woods to bellow with
the deep cadences of their continuous cry.
Hard on the blood hounds, crashing through
the tangled branches with reckless and impetuous
ardor, a solitary huntsman followed
splendidly mounted on a fiery Andalusian
charger, of a deep chestnut color, with four
white legs, and a white blaze down his
face, whose long thin mane, and the large
cord-like veins that might be seen meandering
over his muscular, sleek limbs, attested,
as surely as the longest pedigree,
the purity of his blood. The rider was a
young man of some four or five-and-twenty
years, well, and rather powerfully made
than otherwise, though not above the middle
stature; his long dark hair, black eye,
and swarthy skin told of a slight admixture
of the Moorish blood; while the expression
of his features, though now excited somewhat
by the exhilaration of the chase,
grave, dignified and noble, bespoke him
without a doubt a polished cavalier of
Spain. His dress, adapted to the occupation
which he so gallantly pursued, was a
green doublet belted close about his waist
by a girdle of Cordovan leather, from which
swung, clinking at every stride of his
horse, against the stirrup, a long and basket-hilted
bilboa blade, in a steel scabbard,
which was the only weapon that he wore,
except a short two-edged stiletto, thrust
into the belt at the left side. A broad
sombrero hat, with a drooping feather,
breeches and gloves of chamois leather,
laced down the seams with silver, and russet
buskins drawn up to the knee, completed
his attire. He sat his horse gracefully
and firmly; and the ease with which
he supported him, and wheeled him to and
fro among the fallen trees and rocks, notwithstanding
the fiery speed at which he
rode, bespoke him no less skillful than intrepid
as a horseman. The chase continued
for above an hour, during which
every species of scenery that the level portions
of the isle contained was traversed by
the hunter; the open forest, the dense
swampy brake, the wide luxuriant savannah—and
each at such hot speed, that
though he turned aside neither for bush,
nor bank, though he plunged headlong
down the steepest crags, and dashed his
charger, without hesitation, over every fallen
tree that barred his progress, and every
brook or gulley that opposed him, still it
was with no little difficulty that he contrived
to keep the hounds in hearing. And
now the hapless hind, worn out by the sustained
exertions which had at first outstripped
the utmost pace of her pursuers,
but which availed her nothing to escape
from foes against whose most sagacious instinct
and unerring scent she had but fleetness
to oppose—was sinking fast, and must,
as the rider judged by the redoubled speed
and shriller baying of his hounds, soon turn
to bay, or be run down without resistance.
Her graceful head was bowed low toward
the earth; big tears streamed down her
hairy cheeks; her arid tongue lolled from
her frothing jaws; her coat, of late so
sleek and glossy, was all embossed with
sweat and foam, and wounded at more
points than one by the sharp thorns and
prickly underwood through which she had
toiled so fruitlessly. Still she strove on,
staggering and panting in a manner pitiful
to witness, when the deep bay of the blood
hounds was changed suddenly into a series
of sharp and savage yells, as they caught
view of their destined prey. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | Hoffman
Charles Fenno
1806-1884 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Greyslaer | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “You will probably, before reading this, have surmised
the cause why I have withdrawn from beneath
a roof which has never sheltered dishonour.
Oh! my friend—if so the wretched Alida may still
call you—you cannot dream of what I have suffered
while delaying the execution of a step which I
believe to be due alike to you and to myself; but
the state of my health would not sooner admit of
putting my determination in execution, and I knew
there would be full time for me to retire before you
could come back to assume the government of your
household. That determination is never to see
you more. Yes, Greyslaer, we are parted, and for
ever........The meshes of villany which have been
woven around me it is impossible to disentangle.
My woman's name is blasted beyond all hope of
retrieval, and yours shall never be involved in its
disgrace. I ask you not to believe me innocent.
I have no plea, no proof to offer. I submit to the
chastening hand of Providence. I make no appeal
to the love whose tried and generous offices might
mitigate this dreadful visitation. I would have you
think of me and my miserable concerns no more.
God bless you, Max! God bless and keep you;
keep you from the devices of a proud and arrogant
spirit, which Heaven, in its wisdom, hath so severely
scourged in me; keep you from that bitterest of
all reflections, the awful conviction that your rebellious
heart has fully merited the severest judgments
of its Maker. God bless and keep you, dearest,
dearest Max. “In the matter of Derrick de Roos, junior, and
Annatie, the Indian woman; deposition as to the
parentage of Guise or Guisbert, their child, born
out of wedlock, taken before Henry Fenton, justice
of the peace, &c., certified copy, to be deposited
with Max Greyslaer, Esquire, in testimony of the
claim which the said child might have upon his care
and protection, as the near friend and ward of Derrick
de Roos, senior, who, while living, fully acknowledged
such claim, in expiation of the misdeeds
of his son. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The gipsy of the Highlands, or, The Jew and the heir | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | About half an hour after the sun had set on a clear, starry evening
in September, 182—, a small boat, pulled by a single oarsman,
shot out from a deep cove, just above the Highlands, and rowed
along the shore in the direction of a gray stone villa, situated on the
river's bank, half a mile above. The oarsman was a young man of
fair complexion and slight in person; but there was an expression
in his clear blue eye of mingled pride and resolution. He was
dressed in a plain dark frock, without pretension to style; and
beside him, for he rowed bareheaded, was laid a sort of foraging
cap, rudely made of the skins of squirrels, trophies of his own skill
at the rifle. The expression of his countenance was cheerful and
animated; and, as he pulled the light skiff over the glassy surface,
he bummed the air of `Bonny Boat' in a low and musical voice,
to the measure of which the regular `clack' and dip of his slender
oars, chimed in not unmusical accompaniment. I herewith order you to return forthwith to Kirkwood. I have
learned, that you have been pursuing a course of extravagance in
the city, that can only be kept up by debt—as I have been careful
never to allow you the means of dissipation. When I forgave you,
for resigning without my leave from West Point, it was on the condition
that you remained quietly at home, to look after the place.
Till you are twenty-one, which is yet six months off, I at least have
the control over you, and mean to exercise it; and if you expect
any thing of me, after you are of age, you will now comply with my
wishes. My health is poorly, and your ungrateful conduct by no
means improves it. Your note for the pair of bays sold you, comes due tomorrow. Your account, up to the first of the month, has been due some
days. You will oblige by adjusting this morning, Thankful for your past custom we have the honor of enclosing
your account for the last quarter, which it would be quite a convenience
to us to have adjusted today. The note for the Stanhope and harness, bought of me in June, is
due today. You will confer a favor by calling and settling it. Your three notes, of $500, 1000, and 2000 are due 5-9 Inst. `There is the order on him — “Dear Father: By paying Jacob
Goldschnapp, or order, six thousand dollars, thirty days from date,
you will oblige your dutiful son, `My dear Jacor,—I am confoundedly surprised this morning
by the `old gentleman' dropping in upon me before I was up. He
has come down to the city to look after me, so he says. We have
made matters up and I am to go home with him or lose Kirkwood.
If you can possibly do anything for me with him, come and dine
with me, at 2 o'clock. I choose this early hour on account of his
habits. I have some curiosity, I confess, to see how you are to do
about that draft. If you are successful, I shall have to call on you
again for a larger amount, for I am in a scrape again! Don't disappoint
me—at 2—remember! My respects to pretty Ruth. `You are desired to call, without delay, to see a gentleman at the
City Hotel, who wishes to make his will. Every moment is important.
The servant will conduct you.' | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Grace Weldon, or Frederica, the bonnet-girl | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | At the conclusion of one of those little romances, hardly to be dignified
by the name of novels, which, during the past year, we have thrown off
from the press, we promised one day a continuation. In that romance,
which bore the title of `Jemmy Daily,' we took juvenile subjects, and
brought them forward to the verge of manhood, leaving them just as they
were about entering into the whirl of life. The numerous applications from
`little folk,' that we have since been honored with, to redeem our promise to
write a sequel, we cannot well resist any longer; and hereby prepare to
make good our pledge. We shall begin our story by introducing, for the
benefit of those who have not seen `Jemmy Daily,' the concluding paragraph
of that work. It is as follows: `I have received a line from James, saying he is not well. Be so kind
as to go and see him, and let me know how he is, and if he wants any thing
to be done for him, and send me word. His absence confines me to the
counting-room. His mother lives at No. — Washington street, below Summer.
It is but a step. `Dear Sir, — As you have been so obliging as to pay once or twice my
checks for large over-drafts at your counter, you will oblige me by paying
this at sight, though I am aware I have but a trifle set to my credit on the
bank books. To-morrow I will deposite the full amount. I should not presume
upon this liberty but for my knowledge of your former indulgence,
when I have carelessly overdrawn. Trusting the same confidence in me will
now prevent this from being returned “without funds,” I enclose it by my
usual bank clerk. An unexpected negotiation I have entered into since
drawing out the one thousand dollars, compels me to anticipate in this manner
the morrow's deposits. `Sir, — I feel it my duty to caution you against paying any checks offered
you, professing to be drawn by W. Weldon, merchant, on Central Wharf,
as in all likelihood such checks will prove to be forgeries, if offered to you
by Mr. Weldon's head clerk, or by a lad with light hair and blue eyes, whom
he has selected to present them, as resembling Mr. Weldon's son. My
motive in warning you proceeds from the dictates of a troubled conscience,
for I have been a guilty participator in the crime of deceiving you, with Mr.
Daily, the clerk alluded to; but I can no longer be so, and be happy. James
Daily began his operations by employing the lad you have so often seen, and
who will present you a forged check, this morning, for twenty-five hundred
dollars, which I hope you will not have paid ere this caution reaches you.
He began, I say, about three weeks ago, by engaging a shrewd youth to act
for him, and present the checks. The reason why, after overdrawing, he
paid back again the overplus, was to deceive the bank into security, and
blind you! This was done twice. In both cases it was the part of a subtle
plot, deeply laid by Daily, for reaping, by-and-bye, a rich harvest. Of the
last draft, for eleven hundred, which this upright clerk forged, and the lad
presented, only one thousand were re-deposited, as you will recollect, one
hundred being kept back by him. This was only the first picking of Daily's
harvest, which he promised to himself. He had now got you familiar with
his clerk's face, (the blue-eyed lad,) and had lulled your fears, by promptly
depositing when over-checking. It now remained for him to pursue the play
in his own way. All he would have to do, when he wanted funds for his
private purposes, to pay gambling debts, &c., was to draw a check on your
bank, send it by the youth, receive the money, and then so manage that Mr.
Weldon would be kept in ignorance of the diminution of his funds. This
was, and is his plan. And, as the first fruits of it, he has this morning
showed me a draft (forged) for twenty-five hundred dollars, every dollar of
which he intends to defraud the bank of; and as I know his next checks
will be much larger, and as I tremble for the consequences to myself and
brother, (for the lad he has beguiled is my brother,) I have thought it best
to inform the bank in season, hoping, that should any steps be taken against
James Daily, and he should implicate my brother, that he, as well as I, may
be passed over, by reason of his youth, and my present voluntary information
given to the bank. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 12 | Author: | Longstreet
Augustus Baldwin
1790-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Georgia scenes | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | If my memory fail me not, the 10th of June, 1809,
found me at about 11 o'clock in the forenoon, ascending
a long and gentle slope, in what was called “The Dark
Corner” of Lincoln. I believe it took its name from
the moral darkness, which reigned over that portion of
the county, at the time of which I am speaking. If in
this point of view, it was but a shade darker than the
rest of the county, it was inconceivably dark. If any
man can name a trick, or sin, which had not been committed
at the time of which I am speaking, in the very
focus of all the county's illumination, (Lincolnton) he
must himself be the most inventive of the tricky, and the
very Judas of sinners. Since that time, however, (all
humor aside) Lincoln has become a living proof “that
light shineth in darkness.” Could I venture to mingle
the solemn with the ludicrous, even for the purposes of
honorable contrast, I could adduce from this county instances
of the most numerous and wonderful transitions,
from vice and folly, to virtue and holiness, which have
ever perhaps been witnessed since the days of the apostolic
ministry. So much, lest it should be thought by
some, that what I am about to relate, is characteristic of
the county in which it occurred. “Dear Sir:—I send you the money collected on the
notes you left with me. Since you left here, Polly has
been thinking about old times, and she says, to save her
life she can't recollect you.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Guy Rivers | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In the upper part of the State of Georgia, extending
into the country of the Cherokee Indians—
a region, at this period, fruitful of dispute—lying
at nearly equal distances between the parallel
waters of the Chatahoochie river, and that branch
of it which bears the name of the Chestatee, from a
now almost forgotten but once formidable tribe—
will be found a long reach of comparatively barren
lands, interspersed with hills, which occasionally
aspire to a more elevated title, and garnished only
here and there with a dull, half-withered shrubbery,
relieved at intervals, though even then but imperfectly,
by small clumps of slender pines that fling
out their few and skeleton branches ruggedly and
abruptly against the sky. The entire face of the
scene, if not absolutely desolate, has, at least, a
dreary and melancholy expression, which can
not fail to elicit, in the bosom of the most indifferent
spectator, a feeling of gravity and even gloom.
The sparse clusters of ragged woods, and thin
undergrowth of shrivelled herbage, gave token of
the generally steril character of that destiny,
which seemed to have taken up its abode immediately
within, while presiding over, the place.
All around, as far as the eye could reach, a continual
recurrence of the same objects and outline
arrested and fatigued the gaze; which finally sickened
of long levels of sand, broken with rude hills
of a dull species of rock, and a low shrubbery from
which all living things had taken their departure.
Though thus barren to the eye, this region was not,
however, utterly deficient in resources; and its possessions
were those of a description not a little
attractive to the great majority of mankind. It
was the immediate outpost—the very threshold of
the gold country, now so famous for the prolific
promise of the precious metal; far exceeding, in
the contemplation of the knowing, the lavish abundance
of Mexico and of Peru, in the days of their
palmiest and most prosperous condition. Nor,
though only the frontier and threshold as it were
to these swollen treasures, was the portion of country
now under our survey, though bleak, steril
and to the eye uninviting, wanting in attractions
of its own; it contained the signs and indications
which denoted the fertile regions, nor was it entirely
deficient in the precious mineral itself. Much gold
had been gathered already, with little labour, and
almost upon its surface; and it was perhaps only
because of the little knowledge then had of its
wealth, and of its close proximity to a more productive
territory, that it had been suffered to remain
unexamined and unexplored. Nature, thus,
we may remark, in a section of the world seemingly
unblessed with her bounty, and all ungarnished
with her fruits and flowers, appeared desirous,
however, of redeeming it from the curse
of barrenness, by storing its bosom with a product,
which, only of use to the world in its conventional
necessities, has become, in accordance
with the self-creating wants of society, a necessity
itself; and however the bloom and beauty of her
summer decorations may refresh the eye of the
enthusiast, it would here seem, that, with an extended
policy, she had created another, and perhaps
a larger class, which, in the attainment of those
spoils which are of less obvious and easy acquisition,
would even set at nought those which have
at all times been the peculiar delight and felicity
of the former. Nothing is entirely barren in her
dominions; and, to some spirits, her very solitude
and sterility seem as inviting and grateful, as to
others may appear her rich landscapes and voluptuous
flowers. “I guess I am pretty safe now from the regulators,
and saving my trouble of mind, well enough,
and nothing to complain about. Your animal goes
as slick as grease, and carried me in no time out
of reach of rifle shot—so you see it's only right
to thank God, and you, lawyer; for if God hadn't
touched you, and you hadn't lent me the nag, I
guess it would have been a sore chance for my
bones, in the hands of them savages and beasts of
prey. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 14 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Guy Rivers | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The night began to wane, and still did Lucy
Munro keep lonely vigil in her chamber. How
could she sleep? Threatened herself with a connexion
so dreadful as to her mind was that proposed
with Guy Rivers—deeply interested as
she now felt herself in the fortunes of the young
stranger, for whose fate and safety, knowing the
unfavourable position in which he stood with the
outlaws, she had every thing to apprehend—it can
cause no wonder when we say sleep grew a stranger
to her eyes, and without retiring to her couch,
though extinguishing her light, she sat musing by
the window of her chamber upon the thousand
conflicting and sad thoughts that were at strife in
her spirit. She had not been long in this position
when the sound of approaching horsemen reached
her ears, and after a brief interval, during which
she could perceive that they had alighted, she heard
the door of the hall gently unclosed, and footsteps,
as if set down with a nice caution, passing through
the passage. A light danced for a moment fitfully
along the chamber, as if borne from the sleeping
apartment of Munro to that adjoining the hall in
which the family were accustomed to pursue their
domestic avocations. Then came an occasional
murmur of speech to her ears, and then silence.
Perplexed with these circumstances, and wondering
at the return of Munro at an hour something
unusual—prompted too by a presentiment of something
wrong, and apprehensive on the score of
Ralph's safety—a curiosity, not surely under these
circumstances discreditable, to know what was
going on, determined her to ascertain something
more of the character of the nocturnal visitation.
She felt assured from the strangeness of the occurrence
that evil was afoot, and solicitous for its prevention,
she was persuaded to the measure solely
with the view to good. Hastily, yet cautiously, but
with trembling hands, undoing the door of her
apartment, she made her way into the long and
dark gallery, with which she was perfectly familiar,
and soon gained the apartment already referred to.
The door fortunately stood nearly closed, and she
was therefore enabled to pass it by and gain the
hall, which immediately adjoined, and lay in perfect
darkness; without herself being seen, she was
enabled, through a crevice in the partition dividing
the two rooms, to survey its inmates, and to hear
distinctly at the same time every thing that was
uttered. As she expected, there were the two conspirators,
Rivers and Munro, earnestly engaged in
discourse; to which, as it concerns materially our
progress, we may well be permitted to lend our
attention. They spoke on a variety of topics entirely
foreign to the understanding of the half-affrighted
and nervously-susceptible, but still resolute
young girl who heard them; and nothing but
her deep anxieties for one, whose own importance
in her eyes at that moment she did not conjecture,
could have sustained her while listening to a dialogue
full of atrocious intention and development,
and larded throughout with a familiar and sometimes
foul phraseology that certainly was not altogether
unseemly in such association. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Thompson
Daniel P.
(Daniel Pierce)
1795-1868 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Green Mountain boys | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | It seems to be universally conceded that the first
settlers of Vermont were men of an iron mould, and
of an indomitable spirit. And it is no less true, we
apprehend, that with corporeal frames, unusually
large and muscular, and constitutions peculiarly robust
and enduring, they possessed, also, intelligence
and mental energies, which, considering what might
naturally be expected of men of their condition in
life, and in their situation in a wilderness affording
none of the ordinary means of intellectual culture,
were equally remarkable. The proof of these assertions
is to be abundantly found, we think, in the unequalled
stand taken by them for their rights, in their
memorable controversy with New York, and in the
multiplied documents that grew out of it, in the
shape of resolves and decrees of conventions, addresses
to the people, memorials and remonstrances
to the governor of that province, and to the British
throne itself, all drawn up with great clearness and
cogency of reasoning, and evincing a knowledge of
natural and constitutional rights in a people, among
whom law as a profession was then entirely unknown,
which are generally to be found only in the
courts and councils of old and highly civilized countries.
And even were these testimonials to their
character wholly wanting, ample evidence, that they
were a generation of no ordinary men, may still be
seen in the scattered remnant of this noble band of
heroes yet lingering among us, like the few and aged
pines on their evergreen mountains, and, though
now bowed down by the weight of nearly a century
of years, exhibiting frames, which would almost
seem to indicate them as men belonging to another
race, and which are still animated by the light of
wisdom and intelligence, and warmed by the unconquerable
spirit of freedom yet burning unwasted
within them. “From my heart I thank you for your kind note.
All as yet remains undiscovered,—painful, painful
exigency! which compels concealment of so important
a step from an only parent! And yet I regret
not my troth; and whatever of sorrow it may cost
me, I will not repine at the fruit of a tree of my
own planting. Heaven preserve you, my very dear
friend, in the hour of peril, and crown with success
your efforts in the cause of freedom. “Your few lines, my dear sir, have been received,
and read, I know not how many times over, and
with an interest which I dare not acknowledge.
Your propositions, too, have been all candidly, and
even anxiously weighed. And it is with many, very
many regrets, my more than friend, that I am
forced to the conclusion that, at present, it were better,
that they be not complied with. You first propose
to come here openly, explain to my father the
reasons which compelled you to that course, which
he pretends so much to censure, and claim the privilege
of addressing me:—all the explanations, which
it may be needful to make, would, I am satisfied,
with my father's present feelings and impressions,
be better listened to from me than yourself. And
most assuredly they shall be made to him as soon as
his mood shall be such as shall warrant the belief
that they will be received, without passion or prejudice.
And before you take the step you propose, I
could wish also to see to some change in his views
relative to the match he has marked out for me. And
changed, believe me, they sooner or later will be.
Reason will at length resume her sway; and, to say
nothing of your character, the character of one of
whom I would not willingly speak my opinion, must
soon be better known to him. And he will see, and
feel, for himself, that his present requirements are
neither wise nor generous. But do not, for my sake,
for your own sake, beloved friend, attempt to accomplish
all this now, under circumstances so inauspicious:
for I feel it would be useless; and not only
so, but lead, probably, to the defeat of the objects,
and consequently the happiness of us both. No,
Warrington, be patient, trust in Heaven to expose
guilt, and reward inocence, and rely on the constancy
of her, who is resolved to bring about a state of
things when her lover can be received in her father's
house with the kindness and respect to which
he is entitled. `Be astonished, O, ye heavens! and Alma Hendee,
be you thunder struck! as I know you will be,
when you learn, that we are—every man of us,—the
Major and all, prisoners of war! Yes, I am a second
time a prisoner to Mr. Selden! What means
it, Alma? There is some strange fatality about it,
that passes my poor comprehension. O, for some
one deeply skilled in scanning the future—some one
gifted with the second sight, which is claimed by our
Highland seers in Scotland, to divine to me the portent
of this singular happening! How very surprised
*7
we all were when they landed—a body of
armed men—and marched up, taking possession of
the yard, and disarming our soldiers. “Major Warrington,—Our intimacy is forever
ended. As no explanations need be given, so none
will be received. I trust, therefore, that no further
communications on your part will be attempted. “Miss Hendee, I guess, will remember, how, a
year or two ago, a man came to your house and
mended the things; and how he made some statements
about Charles Warrington, the Colonel that
now is. Now, what I said at that time has worried
my feelings a great deal most ever since. Though
I then really thought what I said was justifiable, even
if it was not quite true, as I was made to believe it
to be for your good. But I soon after found out
what I told you was not so, for I didn't know myself,
and only said what I was asked to say. This
was the story of it. As I was going from house to
house, working at my trade there in your part of the
settlement, I fell in with a plausible sort of a man,—
I don't think I had best call him by name,—and we
after a while got to talking about Warrington, whom
I had seen often enough, though I knew nothing
about his private affairs. Well, he, in a smooth kind
of way, said there was one thing that hurt his feelings;
and that was, that Warrington was doing the
wrong thing by a relative of his, a very likely girl,
that he pretended to be courting for the sake of getting
her family on his side in the York quarrel, when
to his certain knowledge, he had a young wife that
he had deserted down country. He said it was a
great pity to have the girl so deceived, and he would
give two gold guineas to any one who would break
up the courtship. But he said it would do no kinder
good for her relations to try; and they were very
anxious some one else should undertake to do it.
He then told me his plan was, that he and I, if I
would agree to do it, should first kinder secretly tell
folks this story about the deserted wife, so that it
should get to her, and make her begin to believe it;
and then I should go there and pretend to come
from where Warrington used to live, and let drop
some how, before the girl, that I was knowing myself
to that business about his being married. Well,
he kinder drew me into this plan, and I being poor,
consented for the money to do as I did. But I soon
mistrusted that this man had some wrong design,
which I found out to be the case, and I feel very
sorry, and ask pardon for what happened; and shall
feel very bad if I done any mischief by it, as I think
Colonel Warrington a very likely man. I think I
shall feel easier now in my mind, but I guess, considering,
I shant sign my name, though I am not
ashamed of it, or at least I never was in any other
affair since I was born. It is one of the felicities of soldiership, and of the
gratifications of a commander, to award the meed of
approbation to fidelity in a common cause, and fealty
to a common sovereign. This meed, Sir, I deem
it no flattery to say is yours, speaking, as I do,
from personal acquaintance, and on the voucher of
Colonel Beverly Robinson, a Loyal American officer,
of worth, and zeal, and activity. “This may certify that David Remington, the
bearer hereof, is thought to be a true friend to the
States of America. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Tucker
Beverley
1784-1851 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | George Balcombe | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | At length, issuing from the wood, I entered a
prairie, more beautiful than any I had yet seen.
The surface, gently undulating, presented innumerable
swells, on which the eye might rest with
pleasure. Many of these were capped with
clumps and groves of trees, thus interrupting the
dull uniformity which generally wearies the traveller
in these vast expanses. I gazed around for
a moment with delight but soon found leisure
to observe that my road had become alarmingly
indistinct. It is easy, indeed, to follow the faintest
trace through a prairie. The beaten track, however
narrow, wears a peculiar aspect, which makes
it distinguishable even at a distance. But the name
of Arlington, the place of my destination, denoted
at least a village; while the tedious path which I
was travelling seemed more like to terminate in
the midst of the prairie, than to lead to a public
haunt of men. I feared I had missed my way, and
looked eagerly ahead for some traveller, who might
set me right, if astray. But I looked in vain.
The prairie lay before me, a wide waste, without
one moving object. The sun had just gone down;
and as my horse, enlivened by the shade and the
freshness of evening, seemed to recover his mettle,
I determined to push on to such termination as my
path might lead to. “I wrote you, under date of March tenth, that
the bill remitted by you for one thousand dollars,
drawn by Edward Montague on the house of
Tompkins and Todd of this city, had been paid
by a draft on Bell and Brothers of Liverpool, England.
This draft I remitted, according to your
directions, to my friend John Ferguson, of the
house of Ferguson and Partridge, our correspondents
there, with instructions to obtain, if possible,
from the same house, a draft on the county of
Northumberland. In this he succeeded, by procuring
a draft on Edward Raby, Esq. of that
county, for a like amount. “A draft drawn by Edward Montague, Esq.,
for one thousand dollars, was this day presented,
and paid by us in pursuance of your standing instructions. “The draft of Messrs. Tompkins and Todd, on
account of Mr. Montague's annuity, is to hand, and
has been duly honoured. “Among the crosses of a wayward destiny, it
is not the least, that for so many years I have lost
all trace of the only man on earth to whom I
could look for kindness or sympathy. Since accident
has discovered to me your residence, I have
felt as if fate might have in store for me some
solace for a life of poverty and disgrace. For the
last, indeed, there is no remedy; for the opinion
of others cannot stifle the voice of self-reproach,
nor deaden the sense of merited dishonour. But,
bad as these are, (and they are enough to poison
all enjoyment, to extinguish all hope, and to turn
the very light of heaven into blackness,) they may
be rendered more intolerable by the cold scorn of
the world, by the unappeased wants of nature, and
by the constant view of sufferings, brought by ourselves
on those we love. This complication of
evil has been my lot; and if one ray of comfort
has ever shot into my benighted mind, it came with
the thought, that he who knew me best knew all
my fault, but did not think me vile. But what
reason have I to think this? Why may not the
misconstruction, which conscience has denied me
power to correct, have reached you uncontradicted?
How can I hope that you have not been
told, that the lip, on which, with your last blessing,
you left the kiss of pure, and generous, and ill-requited
love, has not been since steeped in the
pollution of a villain's breath? All this may have
been told you. All this you may believe. But,
whatever else may be credited against me, you
will never doubt my truth. No, George; the fearful
proof I once gave that I am incapable of deception,
is not forgotten. Take, then, my single
word, against all the world can say, that that hallowed
kiss `my lip has virgined' to this hour.
VOL. I.—M.
Except the cold and clammy brow of my dying
father, no touch of man has since invaded it; nor
has one smile profaned it, since in that moment I
consecrated it to virtue. “It is not the purpose of this letter to reproach
you with your crimes, or to degrade myself by
fruitless complaint of the wretchedness they have
brought upon me. My weak voice can add no
terrors to the thunders of conscience. The history
of my sufferings would be superfluous. So
far as you are capable of comprehending them, you
already know them. The want of the necessaries
of life you can appreciate. Of the sting of self-reproach
to a conscience not rendered callous by
crime, of the deep sense of irreparable dishonour,
of the misery of witnessing distress brought by
our fault on those we love, you can form no conception. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Tucker
Beverley
1784-1851 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | George Balcombe | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | We now approached the seat of justice for
— county, and as we mingled in the crowd of
countrymen flocking to the same point, our conversation
was necessarily interrupted. I soon saw
that Balcombe was distinguished, and that he was
an object of interest and curiosity, which was
painful to me. By him it seemed to be unmarked,
and he moved on with a countenance of
quiet serenity, as a man familiar with notoriety,
and secure of himself “Your extraordinary communication of the 15th
ultimo is before me. In answering it I find myself
under the necessity of adverting to much
more than it contains; and I shall do so fully, because
I find it necessary to make you understand
distinctly the relation between us. “Let me indulge a hope that the sight of my
name at the bottom of this letter may not prevent
you from reading it. Having hitherto received
nothing at my hands but what, to you at least, appeared
to be injustice, I cannot expect to engage
your attention to what I am about to say, without
first assuring you that the purpose of this letter is
altogether friendly. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 19 | Author: | unknown | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Good company for every day in the year | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | I CONFESS it, I am keenly sensitive to “skyey influences.”
I profess no indifference to the movements of
that capricious old gentleman known as the clerk of the
weather. I cannot conceal my interest in the behavior of
that patriarchal bird whose wooden similitude gyrates on
the church spire. Winter proper is well enough. Let the
thermometer go to zero if it will; so much the better, if
thereby the very winds are frozen and unable to flap their
stiff wings. Sounds of bells in the keen air, clear, musical,
heart-inspiring; quick tripping of fair moccasoned feet on
glittering ice-pavements; bright eyes glancing above the
uplifted muff like a sultana's behind the folds of her yashmack;
school-boys coasting down street like mad Greenlanders;
the cold brilliance of oblique sunbeams flashing
back from wide surfaces of glittering snow or blazing upon
ice-jewelry of tree and roof. There is nothing in all this to
complain of. A storm of summer has its redeeming sublimities,
— its slow, upheaving mountains of cloud glooming in
the western horizon like new-created volcanoes, veined with
fire, shattered by exploding thunders. Even the wild gales
of the equinox have their varieties, — sounds of wind-shaken
woods, and waters, creak and clatter of sign and casement,
hurricane puffs and down-rushing rain-spouts. But this
dull, dark autumn day of thaw and rain, when the very
clouds seem too spiritless and languid to storm outright or
take themselves out of the way of fair weather; wet beneath
and above, reminding one of that rayless atmosphere of
Dante's Third Circle, where the infernal Priessnitz administers
his hydropathic torment, —
“A heavy, cursed, and relentless drench, —
The land it soaks is putrid”; —
or rather, as everything, animate and inanimate, is seething
in warm mist, suggesting the idea that Nature, grown old
and rheumatic, is trying the efficacy of a Thompsonian
steam-box on a grand scale; no sounds save the heavy plash
of muddy feet on the pavements; the monotonous, melancholy
drip from trees and roofs; the distressful gurgling of
water-ducts, swallowing the dirty amalgam of the gutters; a
dim, leaden-colored horizon of only a few yards in diameter,
shutting down about one, beyond which nothing is visible
save in faint line or dark projection; the ghost of a church
spire or the eidolon of a chimney-pot. He who can extract
pleasurable emotions from the alembic of such a day has a
trick of alchemy with which I am wholly unacquainted. Whereas Charles Stuart, King of England, is and
standeth convicted, attainted and condemned of High Treason
and other high Crimes; and Sentence upon Saturday
last was pronounced against him by this Court, To be put to
death by the severing of his head from his body; of which
Sentence execution yet remaineth to be done: “It begins: — `Dear Uncle,' (I had always instructed
the child so to call me, rather than father, seeing we can
have but one father, while we may be blessed with numerous
uncles) `I suppose you will wonder how I came to be
at St. Louis, and it is just my being here that I write to
explain. You know how my husband felt about Nelly's
death, but you cannot know how I felt; for, even in my
very great sorrow, I hoped all the time, that by her death,
John might be led to a love of religion. He was very unhappy,
but he would not show it, only that he took even
more tender care of me than before. I have always been
his darling and pride; he never let me work, because he
said it spoiled my hands; but after Nelly died, he was
hardly willing I should breathe; and though he never spoke
of her, or seemed to feel her loss, yet I have heard him
whisper her name in his sleep, and every morning his hair
and pillow were damp with crying; but he never knew I
saw it. After a few months, there came a Mormon preacher
into our neighborhood, a man of a great deal of talent
and earnestness, and a firm believer in the revelation to
Joseph Smith. At first my husband did not take any
notice of him, and then he laughed at him for being a believer
in what seemed like nonsense; but one night he was
persuaded to go and hear Brother Marvin preach in the
school-house, and he came home with a very sober face. I
said nothing, but when I found there was to be a meeting
the next night, I asked to go with him, and, to my surprise,
I heard a most powerful and exciting discourse, not wanting
in either sense or feeling, though rather poor as to argument;
but I was not surprised that John wanted to hear
more, nor that, in the course of a few weeks, he avowed
himself a Mormon, and was received publicly into the sect.
Dear Uncle, you will be shocked, I know, and you will wonder
why I did not use my influence over my husband, to
keep him from this delusion; but you do not know how
much I have longed and prayed for his conversion to a religious
life; until any religion, even one full of errors,
seemed to me better than the hardened and listless state of
his mind. “`My first wife, Adeline Frazer Henderson, departed
this life on the sixth of July, at my house in the city of
Great Salt Lake. Shortly before dying she called upon
me, in the presence of two sisters, and one of the Saints, to
deliver into your hands the enclosed packet, and tell you of
her death. According to her wish, I send the papers by
mail; and, hoping you may yet be called to be a partaker
in the faith of the saints below, I remain your afflicted, yet
rejoicing friend, “To-day I begged John to write, and ask you to come
here. I could not write you since I came here but that
once, though your letters have been my great comfort, and
I added a few words of entreaty to his, because I am dying,
and it seems as if I must see you before I die; yet I fear
the letter may not reach you, or you may be sick: and for
that reason I write now, to tell you how terrible a necessity
urged me to persuade you to such a journey. I can write
but little at a time, my side is so painful; they call it slow-consumption
here, but I know better; the heart within me
is turned to stone, I felt it then — Ah! you see my mind
wandered in that last line; it still will return to the old
theme, like a fugue tune, such as we had in the Plainfield
singing-school. I remember one that went, `The Lord is
just, is just, is just.' — Is He? Dear Uncle, I must begin
at the beginning, or you never will know. I wrote you from
St. Louis, did I not? I meant to. From there, we had a
dreary journey, not so bad to Fort Leavenworth, but after
that inexpressibly dreary, and set with tokens of the dead,
who perished before us. A long reach of prairie, day after
day, and night after night; grass, and sky, and graves;
grass, and sky, and graves; till I hardly knew whether the
life I dragged along was life or death, as the thirsty, feverish
days wore on into the awful and breathless nights, when
every creature was dead asleep, and the very stars in heaven
grew dim in the hot, sleepy air — dreadful days! I was
too glad to see that bitter inland sea, blue as the fresh lakes,
with its gray islands of bare rock, and sparkling sand shores,
still more rejoiced to come upon the City itself, the rows of
quaint, bare houses, and such cool water-sources, and, over
all, near enough to rest both eyes and heart, the sunlit
mountains, `the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.' | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Holmes
Oliver Wendell
1809-1894 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The guardian angel | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | ON Saturday, the 18th day of June, 1859, the “State
Banner and Delphian Oracle,” published weekly at
Oxbow Village, one of the principal centres in a thriving
river-town of New England, contained an advertisement
which involved the story of a young life, and startled the
emotions of a small community. Such faces of dismay,
such shaking of heads, such gatherings at corners, such
halts of complaining, rheumatic wagons, and dried-up, chirruping
chaises, for colloquy of their still-faced tenants, had
not been known since the rainy November Friday, when
old Malachi Withers was found hanging in his garret up
there at the lonely house behind the poplars. “My dearest Olive: — Think no evil of me for what
I have done. The fire-hang-bird's nest, as Cyprian called
it, is empty, and the poor bird is flown. “A Vision seen by me, Myrtle Hazard, aged fifteen, on
the night of June 15, 1859. Written out at the request
of a friend from my recollections. “My dearest Clement, — You was so good to write
me such a sweet little bit of a letter, — only, dear, you
never seem to be in quite so good spirits as you used to be.
I wish your Susie was with you to cheer you up; but no,
she must be patient, and you must be patient too, for you
are so ambitious! I have heard you say so many times
that nobody could be a great artist without passing years
and years at work, and growing pale and lean with thinking
so hard. You won't grow pale and lean, I hope; for I do
so love to see that pretty color in your cheeks you have
always had ever since I have known you; and besides, I do
not believe you will have to work so very hard to do something
great, — you have so much genius, and people of
genius do such beautiful things with so little trouble. You
remember those beautiful lines out of our newspaper I
sent you? Well, Mr. Hopkins told me he wrote those lines
in one evening without stopping! I wish you could see
Mr. Hopkins, — he is a very talented person. I cut out
this little piece about him from the paper on purpose to show
you, — for genius loves genius, — and you would like to
hear him read his own poetry, — he reads it beautifully.
Please send this piece from the paper back, as I want to
put it in my scrap-book, under his autograph: — “My dear Susie, — I have just been reading your
pleasant letter; and if I do not send you the poem you
ask for so eloquently, I will give you a little bit of advice,
which will do just as well, — won't it, my dear? I was
interested in your account of various things going on at
Oxbow Village. I am very glad you find young Mr. Hopkins
so agreeable a friend. His poetry is better than some
which I see printed in the village papers, and seems generally
unexceptionable in its subjects and tone. I do not believe
he is a dangerous companion, though the habit of writing
verse does not always improve the character. I think I have
seen it make more than one of my acquaintances idle, conceited,
sentimental, and frivolous, — perhaps it found them
so already. Don't make too much of his talent, and particularly
don't let him think that because he can write verses
he has nothing else to do in this world. That is for his
benefit, dear, and you must skilfully apply it. “Reverend Sir, — I shall not come to your study this
day. I do not feel that I have any more need of religious
counsel at this time, and I am told by a friend that there
are others who will be glad to hear you talk on this subject.
I hear that Mrs. Hopkins is interested in religious subjects,
and would have been glad to see you in my company. As
I cannot go with her, perhaps Miss Susan Posey will take
my place. I thank you for all the good things you have
said to me, and that you have given me so much of your
company. I hope we shall sing hymns together in heaven
some time, if we are good enough, but I want to wait for
that awhile, for I do not feel quite ready. I am not going
to see you any more alone, reverend sir. I think this is
best, and I have good advice. I want to see more of young
people of my own age, and I have a friend, Mr. Gridley,
who I think is older than you are, that takes an interest in
me; and as you have many others that you must be interested
in, he can take the place of a father better than you
can do. I return to you the hymn-book, — I read one of
those you marked, and do not care to read any more. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 21 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The golden Christmas | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | It was during that premature spell of cold weather which we so
unseasonably had this year in October,—anticipating our usual
winter by a full month or more,—cutting off the cotton crop a
fourth, and forcing us into our winter garments long before they
were ordered from the tailor,—when, one morning, as I stood shivering
before the glass, and clumsily striving, with numbed fingers,
to adjust my cravat à la nœud Gordien,—my friend, Ned Bulmer,
burst into my room, looking as perfect an exquisite as Beau
Brummell himself. He was in the gayest clothes and spirits, a
thousand times more exhilarated than usual—and Ned is one of
those fellows upon whom care sits uneasily, whom, indeed, care
seldom sets upon at all! He laughed at my shiverings and
awkwardness, seized the ends of my handkerchief, and, with the
readiest fingers in the world, and in the most perfect taste, adjusted
the folds of the cravat, and looped them up into a rose beneath
my chin, in the twinkling of an eye, and to my own perfect satisfaction. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 22 | Author: | Thompson
Daniel P.
(Daniel Pierce)
1795-1868 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gaut Gurley, or, The trappers of Umbagog | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | So wrote the charming Cowper, giving us to understand, by
the drift of the context, that he intended the remark as having
a moral as well as a physical application; since, as he there
intimates, in “gain-devoted cities,” whither naturally flow “the
dregs and feculence of every land,” and where “foul example
in most minds begets its likeness,” the vices will ever find their
favorite haunts; while the virtues, on the contrary, will always
most abound in the country. So far as regards the virtues, if
we are to take them untested, this is doubtless true. And so
far, also, as regards the mere vices, or actual transgressions of
morality, we need, perhaps, to have no hesitation in yielding
our assent to the position of the poet. But, if he intends to
include in the category those flagrant crimes which stand first
in the gradation of human offences, we must be permitted to
dissent from that part of the view; and not only dissent, but
claim that truth will generally require the very reversal of the
picture, for of such crimes we believe it will be found, on
examination, that the country ever furnishes the greatest proportion.
In cities, the frequent intercourse of men with their
fellow-men, the constant interchange of the ordinary civilities
of life, and the thousand amusements and calls on their attention
that are daily occurring, have almost necessarily a tendency
to soften or turn away the edge of malice and hatred, to divert
the mind from the dark workings of revenge, and prevent it
from settling into any of those fatal purposes which result in
the wilful destruction of life, or some other gross outrage on
humanity. But in the country, where, it will be remembered,
the first blood ever spilled by the hand of a murderer cried up
to Heaven from the ground, and where the meliorating circumstances
we have named as incident to congregated life are almost
wholly wanting, man is left to brood in solitude over his
real or fancied wrongs, till all the fierce and stormy passions
of his nature become aroused, and hurry him unchecked along
to the fatal outbreak. In the city, the strong and bad passions
of hate, envy, jealousy, and revenge, softened in action, as we
have said, on finding a readier vent in some of the conditions
of urban society, generally prove comparatively harmless. In
the country, finding no such softening influences, and no such
vent, and left to their own workings, they often become dangerously
concentrated, and, growing more and more intensified as
their self-fed fires are permitted to burn on, at length burst
through every barrier of restraint, and set all law and reason
alike at defiance. “Thinking something unusual to be brewing overhead, we
are off for the lake about 10 A. M. “Dear Claud, — You do not know, you cannot know, what
the effort costs me to write this. You do not know, you cannot
know, what I have felt, what I have suffered since I became
fully apprised of the painful circumstances under which
your late expedition was brought to a close; and especially
since I became apprised of the lamentable scenes that occurred
in the court, growing out of that unfortunate — O how unfortunate,
expedition! Before that court was held, and during the
doubtful days which intervened between it and your escape from
the terrible perils that attended your return, the hope that all
would, all must turn out right, in some measure relieved my
harrowing fears and anxieties; though even then the latter was
to the former as days of cloud to minutes of sunshine. But,
when I heard what occurred at the trial, — the bitter crimination
and recrimination, the open rupture, the menaces exchanged,
and the angry parting, — and, more alarming than all,
when I saw my father return in that fearful mood, from which
he still refuses to be diverted, the last gleam of hope faded, and
all became cloud, all gloom, — dark, impenetrable, and forbidding.
My nights, when sleep at length comes to close my
weeping eyes, are passed in troubled dreams; my days in more
troubled thoughts, which I would fain believe were dreams
also. O, why need this be? I have done nothing, — you
have done nothing; and I have no doubt of your faith and
honor for performing all I shall ever require at your hands.
But, Claud, I love you, and all
`Know love is woman's happiness;'
and all know, likewise, that the ties of love are but gossamer
threads, which a word may rupture, a breath shake, and even
the power of unpleasant associations destroy. Still, is there
not one hope, — the hope that this thread, hitherto so blissfully
uniting our hearts, subtle and attenuated as it is, may yet
be preserved unbroken, if we suffer no opinion, no word, no
syllable to escape our lips, respecting the unfortunate affair
that is embroiling our parents; if we wholly deny ourselves
the pleasure of that social intercourse which, to me, at least,
has thus far made this wilderness an Eden of delight? But
can it be thus preserved, if we keep up that intercourse, as in
the sunshine of our love, — those pleasant, fleeting, rosy months,
when I was so happy, O so very happy, in the feelings of the
present and the prospects of the future? No, no, it is not possible,
it is not possible for you to come here, and encounter my
father in such a mood, and then return and receive the upbraidings
of your own, that you are joining or upholding the house
of his foes. It is not possible for you to do this, and your
heart receive no jar, and mine no fears or suspicions of its continued
fealty. I dare not risk it. Then do not, dearest Claud,
O do not come here, at least for the present. Perhaps my
dark forebodings, that our connection is not to be blessed for our
future happiness, may be groundless. Perhaps the storm that
now so darkly hangs over us may pass harmlessly away.
Perhaps this painful and perplexing misunderstanding — as I
trust in Heaven's mercy it only is — may yet be placed in a light
which will admit of a full reconciliation between our respective
families. But, till then, let our relations to each other stand, if
you feel disposed to let them, precisely as we left them at our
last mournfully happy parting; for, till then, though it break
my heart, I could never, never consent to a renewal of our
intercourse. Have I said enough, and not too much? I could
not, under the almost insupportable weight of grief, fear, and
anxiety, that is distracting my brain, and crushing my poor
heart, — I could not say less, I dare not say more. O Claud,
Claud, why has this dreadful cloud come over us? O, pray that
it may be speedily removed, and once more let in, on our pained
and perplexed hearts, the sunshine of their former happiness.
Dearest Claud, good-by; don't come, but don't forget “Mrs. Elwood, my Friend, — Our Mr. Phillips has been
here, and told us all that has happened in your settlement.
Mrs. Elwood, I am greatly troubled at the loss your family
suffer, with the rest of the hunters, but still more troubled and
fearful for your husband and your noble son, about what may
grow out of the quarrel with that dark man. My father knew
him, time long past, and said there would be mischief done the
company, when we heard he was going with them. I hope Mr.
Elwood will keep out of his way; and I hope, Claud, — O, I
cannot write the thought. Mrs. Elwood, I am very unhappy.
I sometimes wish your brave and noble son had suffered me to
go down and be lost in the dark, wild waters of those fearful
rapids. By the goodness of my white father, whom I am proud
22
to hope you may some time see with me in your settlement, I
have all the comforts and indulgences that a heart at ease could
desire; warm, carpeted rooms, dress, books, company, smooth
flatterers, who mean little, it may be, together with real friends,
who mean much, and prove it by actions, which do not, like
words, ever deceive. And yet, Mrs. Elwood, they are all
now without any charms for me. My heart is in your settlement.
The grand old forest, and the bright lake, were always
things of beauty for me, before I saw him; but now, when associated
with him, — O, Mrs. Elwood, if I did not know you
had something of what I meant should forever be kept secret
from all but the Great Eye, in your keeping, and if you had
not made me feel you would be my discreet friend, and keep it
as safe from all as an unspoken thought, I would not for worlds
write what I have, and what I every moment find my pen on
the point of writing more fully. O, how I wish I could make
you understand, without words, what I feel, — how I grieve
over what I almost know must be vain hopes, and vainer visions
of happiness! You have sometimes had, it may be, very
bright, delightful dreams, which seemed to bring you all your
heart desired; and then you suddenly awoke, and found all had
vanished, leaving you dark and sad with disappointment and
regret. If you have, you may fancy what my thoughts are
undergoing every hour of the day. O, how my heart is drawn
away towards you! I often feel that I must fly up, like a bird,
to be there. I should come now, but for what might be thought.
I shall certainly be there in early spring. I can't stay away,
though I may come only to see what I could bear less easy
than these haunting, troubled fancies. Mrs. Elwood, adieu.
You won't show this, or breathe a word about it, — I know you
won't; you could not be so cruel as that. Mrs. Elwood, may
I not sign myself your friend? “To Claud Elwood:— My career is ended, at last. Well,
I have the satisfaction of knowing that I have been nobody's fool
nor nobody's tool. Early perceiving that nine out of ten were only
the stupid instruments of the tenth man, the world over, I resolved
to go into the system, and did, and improved on it so as to make
nineteen out of twenty tools to me, — that is all. I have no great
fault to find with men generally, though I always despised the
whole herd; for I knew that, if they used me well, it was only
because they dared not do otherwise. I don't write this, however,
to preach upon that, but to let you know another thing, to chew
upon. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 40 | Author: | Izumi, Kyoka | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gaisenmatsuri | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 紫の幕、
紅
（
くれない
）
の旗、空の色の青く晴れたる、草木の色の緑なる、
唯
（
ただ
）
うつくしきものの
弥
（
いや
）
が上に重なり合ひ、
打混
（
うちこん
）
じて、
譬
（
たと
）
へば
大
（
おおい
）
なる
幻燈
（
うつしえ
）
の
花輪車
（
かりんしゃ
）
の輪を造りて、
烈
（
はげ
）
しく舞出で、舞込むが見え候のみ。何をか
緒
（
いとぐち
）
として順序よく申上げ候べき。全市街はその日朝まだきより、七色を以て彩られ候と申すより他はこれなく候。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 41 | Author: | Izumi, Kyoka | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Getsurei junitai | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: |
山嶺
（
さんれい
）
の
雪
（
ゆき
）
なほ
深
（
ふか
）
けれども、
其
（
そ
）
の
白妙
（
しろたへ
）
に
紅
（
くれなゐ
）
の
日
（
ひ
）
や、
美
（
うつく
）
しきかな
玉
（
たま
）
の
春
（
はる
）
。
松籟
（
しようらい
）
時
（
とき
）
として
波
（
なみ
）
に
吟
（
ぎん
）
ずるのみ、
撞
（
つ
）
いて
驚
（
おどろ
）
かす
鐘
（
かね
）
もなし。
萬歳
（
まんざい
）
の
鼓
（
つゞみ
）
遙
（
はる
）
かに、
鞠唄
（
まりうた
）
は
近
（
ちか
）
く
梅
（
うめ
）
ヶ
香
（
か
）
と
相
（
あひ
）
聞
（
き
）
こえ、
突羽根
（
つくばね
）
の
袂
（
たもと
）
は
松
（
まつ
）
に
友染
（
いうぜん
）
を
飜
（
ひるがへ
）
す。をかし、
此
（
こ
）
のあたりに
住
（
すま
）
ふなる
橙
（
だい／＼
）
の
長者
（
ちやうじや
）
、
吉例
（
きちれい
）
よろ
昆布
（
こんぶ
）
の
狩衣
（
かりぎぬ
）
に、
小殿原
（
ことのばら
）
の
太刀
（
たち
）
を
佩反
（
はきそ
）
らし、
七草
（
なゝくさ
）
の
里
（
さと
）
に
若菜
（
わかな
）
摘
（
つ
）
むとて、
讓葉
（
ゆづりは
）
に
乘
（
の
）
つたるが、
郎等
（
らうどう
）
勝栗
（
かちぐり
）
を
呼
（
よ
）
んで
曰
（
いは
）
く、あれに
袖形
（
そでかた
）
の
浦
（
うら
）
の
渚
（
なぎさ
）
に、
紫
（
むらさき
）
の
女性
（
によしやう
）
は
誰
（
た
）
そ。……
蜆
（
しゞみ
）
御前
（
ごぜん
）
にて
候
（
さふらふ
）
。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 42 | Author: | Koda, Rohan | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Goju no to | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 木理美しき槻胴、縁にはわざと赤樫を用ひたる岩疊作りの長火鉢に對ひて話し
敵もなく唯一人、少しは淋しさうに坐り居る三十前後の女、男のやうに立派な眉を何
日掃ひしか剃つたる痕の青々と、見る眼も覺むべき雨後の山の色を留めて翠の匂ひ一
トしほ床しく、鼻筋つんと通り目尻キリヽと上り、洗ひ髮をぐる／＼と酷く丸めて引
裂紙をあしらひに一本簪でぐいと留めを刺した色氣無の樣はつくれど、憎いほど烏黒
にて艷ある髮の毛の一ト綜二綜後れ亂れて、淺黒いながら澁氣の拔けたる顏にかゝれ
る趣きは、年増嫌ひでも褒めずには置かれまじき風體、我がものならば着せてやりた
い好みのあるにと好色漢が隨分頼まれもせぬ詮議を蔭では爲べきに、さりとは外見を
捨てて堅義を自慢にした身の裝り方、柄の選擇こそ野暮ならね、高が二子の綿入れに
繻子襟かけたを着て、何處に紅くさいところもなく、引つ掛けたねんねこばか
りは往時何なりしやら疎い縞の絲織なれど、此とて幾度か水
を潛つて來た奴なるべし。今しも臺所にては下婢が器物洗ふ音ばかりして家内靜かに、
他には人ある樣子もなく、何心なくいたづらに黒文字を舌端で嬲り躍らせなどして居
し女、ぷつりと其を囓み切つてぷいと吹き飛ばし、火鉢の灰かきならし炭火體よく埋
け、芋籠より小巾とり出し、銀ほど光れる長五徳を磨き、おとしを拭き、銅壺の蓋ま
で綺麗にして、さて南部霰地の大鐵瓶を正然かけし後、石尊樣詣りのついでに箱根へ
寄つて來しものが姉御へ御土産と呉れたらしき寄木細工の小纖麗なる煙草箱を右の手
に持た鼈甲管の煙管で引き寄せ、長閑に一服吹うて線香の烟るやうに緩々と烟りを噴
き出し、思はず知らず太息吐いて。多分は良人の手に入るであらうが、憎いのつそり
めが對うへ廻り、去年使うてやつた恩も忘れ、上人樣に胡麻摺り込んで、強て此度の
仕事を爲うと身の分も知らずに願ひを上げたとやら、清吉の話しでは、上人樣に依怙
贔屓の御情はあつても名さへ響かぬのつそりに大切の仕事を
任せらるゝ事は、檀家方の手前寄進者方の手前も難しからうなれば大丈夫此方に命け
らるゝに極つたこと、よしまたのつそりに命けらるればとて彼奴に出來る仕事でもな
く、彼奴の下に立つて働く者もあるまいなれば見事出來し損ずるは眼に見えたことと
のよしなれど、早く良人が愈々御用命かつたと笑ひ顏して歸つて來られゝばよい、
類
の少い仕事だけに、是非爲て見たい受け合つて見たい、慾徳は何でも關はぬ、谷中感
應寺の五重塔は川越の源太が作り居つた、嗚呼よく出來した感心なと云はれて見たい
と面白がつて、何日になく職業に氣のはずみを打つて居らるゝに、若し此仕事を他に
奪られたら何のやうに腹を立てらるるか癇癪を起さるゝか知れず、それも道理であつ
て見れば傍から妾の慰めやうも無い譯、嗚呼何にせよ目出度う早く歸つて來られゝば
よいと、口には出さねど女房氣質、今朝背面から我が縫ひし羽織打ち掛け着せて出し
たる男の上を氣遣ふところへ表の骨太格子手あらく開けて。姉御、兄貴は、なに感應
寺へ、仕方が無い、それでは姉御に、濟みませんが御頼み申します、つい昨晩醉まし
てし後は云はず異な手つきをして話せば、眉頭に皺をよせて笑ひながら。仕方
のないも無いもの、少し締まるがよいと、云ひ云ひ立つて幾
干かの金を渡せば其をもつて門口に出で、何やら諄々押問答せし末此方に來りて、拳
骨で額を抑へ。何も濟みませんでした、ありがたうござりますと無骨な禮を爲たるも
可笑。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 43 | Author: | Kunikida, Doppo | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gogai | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | ぼろ洋服を着た男爵
加藤
(
かとう
)
が、今夜もホールに現われている。彼は多少キじるし[1]だとの評がホールの仲間にあるけれども、おそらくホールの御連中にキ[2]的傾向を持っていないかたはあるまいと思われる。かく言う自分もさよう、同類と信じているのである。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 45 | Author: | Miyamoto, Yuriko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Ganchiku aru saigetsu: Nogami Yaeko san e no tegami | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 初めてあなたのお書きになるものを読んだのは、昔、読売新聞にあなたが「二人の小さいヴァガボンド」という小説を発表なさったときであり、その頃私は女学校の上級生で、きわめて粗雑ながら子供の心理の輪廓などを教わっていた時分のことでした。もうそれからでも、ざっと二十年は経ちます。そして、あの当時にあっては大変ハイカラーで欧州風の教養の匂いの高かった作品の中で、母なる作者の愛情と観察につつまれつつ活躍していた二人のヴァガボンドのうち、一人は言語学者としてイタリーへの交換学生として旅立っており、一人はもう若い物理学者として、この新聞を読むであろう学生の一部の人々を指導しているという今日の有様です。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 48 | Author: | Miyamoto, Yuriko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gorubatofu "Kofuku naki tami" | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 最近のソヴェト文学をよみたくて読めなかった日本の読者に、ゴルバートフの「降伏なき民」はうれしいおくりものであった。今年の初め、シーモノフ、アガーポフ、クドレワートウィフ等と一緒にゴルバートフも暫く東京に来ていた。ゆたかな声量と生粋のソヴェト人の歌好きのこころで「前線通信員」の活気横溢する歌をうたう、ゴルバートフ。一九一七年以後に成長して、社会主義建設の中で青年となった新しい気質のソヴェト作家が、あらゆる人々とともにナチスに侵略された自分たちの建設祖国を、どんなに愛し、護り、そのために献身したか、まざまざと伝えられる情熱をもって「降伏なき民」はかかれている。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 49 | Author: | Miyamoto, Yuriko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Geijutsu ga hitsuyo to suru kagaku | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 去年の八月頃のことであった。三日ばかり極端に暑気のはげしい日がつづいた。日の当らないところに坐っていても汗が体から流れてハンケチなんか忽ち水でしぼったようになった。その時の私の生活状態は特別なもので、その暑中に湯を浴ることもできなければ、櫛で髪をとかすことも自由にはできない有様であったから、大変に疲労した。胸の前で、自分の汗に濡れたハンケチをくるくるとまわしてやっとあたりの臭い空気をうごかし、蝉の声さえ聞えて来ることのない日中を過ごした。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 51 | Author: | Miyamoto, Yuriko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gendai no shudai | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 民主日本の出発ということがいわれてから一年が経過した。日本の旧い支配者たちがポツダム宣言を受諾しなければならなくなって、日本の民衆はこれまでの時々刻々、追い立てられていた不安な戦争の脅威から解放された。戦争が不条理に拡げられ、欺瞞がひどくなるにつれて、日本じゅうの理性を沈黙させ、それをないものにしていた治安維持法が撤廃された記念すべき日も、近くふたたびめぐり来ようとしている。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 52 | Author: | Miyamoto, Yuriko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gokanen keikaku to Soveto no geijutsu | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | ソヴェト同盟の生産面における五ヵ年計画というものは、今度はじめて試みられたものではなかった。誰でも知る通り、ソヴェト同盟の全生産は国家計画部と最高経済会議とが中心となって生産組合、職業組合との共力のもとに、年々計画的に行われて来ている。計画生産である。記念すべき一九一七年からソヴェト同盟は年々当面の生産計画とともに常に先へ先へ五ヵ年位ずつ一まとめにした生産拡大計画をもって進んで来た。一九二八―九年の経済年度から今回の五ヵ年計画が着手された時、資本主義国の「通」は先ず云った。「何だ！ 別に珍しいことじゃないよ。ソヴェトではこれまでだって五ヵ年計画でやって来たんだ。」それから、続けて云った。「ところで、この五ヵ年計画なるものだが、どうだ、この途方もない生産拡大予算は！ 愈々共産主義の非確実性を露出しはじめたぞ。」ドイツやアメリカのブルジョア学者はそれを学理的にうらづけた。が、其等は資本主義国の生産事情にとっては、まことに誇大妄想的拡大であるかもしれないが、ソヴェト同盟にとっては全然実現可能の必要欠くべからざる生産拡張計画であると同時に、今度の五ヵ年計画はその社会的意味に於てこれまでのものとは非常に違うことを、五ヵ年計画二年間に実証した。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 56 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gekido no naka o yuku | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 人生は静態のものでなくて動態のものであり、それの固定を病的状態とし、それの流動を正統状態として、常に動揺変化の中にあるものであるということは説明の必要もないことですが、戦後の世界は戦前においてさまで［1］優勢でなかった思想が
勃興
(
ぼっこう
)
し初めたために、経済的、政治的、社会的のいずれの方面においても、これまでになかった急激な動揺変化を生じて、それがために人間の思想と実際生活とは紛糾に紛糾を重ねようとしています。即ち今日の新しい合言葉となっている人道主義とか、民主主義とか、国際平和主義とかいうものは、戦前において学者、詩人、社会改良論者、宗教家等の空想として、大多数の人類から軽視されていたものですが、今は
普魯西
(
プロシヤ
)
のカイゼル父子とそれを
繞
(
めぐ
)
っていた軍閥者流とが代表として固執していた旧式な
浪曼
(
ローマン
)
主義に根ざす軍国主義や専制主義がこの度の戦争の末期において
頓挫
(
とんざ
)
したために、英仏米諸国の一流の学者、政治家、芸術家に由って支持される新しい浪曼主義に根ざした人道主義や民主主義の思想が天下の権威であるが如き外観を呈するに到りました。そうして、今や世界は、この新しい権威である思想に向って
俄
(
にわ
)
かに自己の生活を適応させるために照準の大転換を行おうとして
焦燥
(
あせ
)
る者と、この思想に反抗して時代遅れの専制的、階級的、官僚的、資本家的の旧思想を維持するために、あらゆる非合理と陰険と暴力とを手段として固執する者と、この急劇な世界の変化に対し、こういう場合に処すべき修養と訓練とをそれまで［2］から欠いていたために、どうすれば好いか、全く策の
出
(
い
)
ずる所を知らないで
徒
(
いたず
)
らに
狼狽
(
ろうばい
)
して右往左往する者と、大体においてこの三種に分つべき人々に由って
未曾有
(
みぞう
)
の混乱状態を引起しています。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 57 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gogo | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 二人は
先刻
（
さつき
）
クリシイの通で中食して帰つて来てからまだ一言も言葉を交さない。女は
暖炉
（
ストオブ
）
の上の棚の心覚えのある雑誌の下から郵船会社の発船日表を出した。さうして長椅子にべたりと腰を下して、手先だけを忙しさうに動して日表を拡げた。何時の昔から暗記して知り切つたものを、もとから本気で読まうなどと思つて居るのではない。男の注意をそれへ引いて、それから云ひ掛りをつけて喧嘩が初めたいのであつた。喧嘩と云つても勝つに決つた喧嘩で、その後で泣く、ヒステリイを起す、男をおろおろさせる、思つて見ればそれも度々しては面白くもない事に違ひないのである、もう飽きてしまつた慰み事に過ぎないのであるが、じつとして居て故郷恋しさに頭を暗くされ続けにさせられて居るよりはほんの少しばかり増しだと思ふのであらう。寝台の足の方に附けて置いた机に倚つて居る男に聞える程の | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 58 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gomonshu | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: |
先刻
（
さつき
）
まで改札の柵の傍に置いてあつた写真器は裏側の出札口の前に移されて、フロツクコートの男が相変らず黒い
切
（
きれ
）
を
被
（
かつ
）
いだり、レンズを
覗
（
のぞ
）
いたりして居る。その傍に中年老年の僧侶が
法衣
（
はふえ
）
の上から
種々
（
さまざま
）
の美しい袈裟を掛けて三十五六人立つて居る。羽織袴の
服装
（
いでたち
）
の紳士もそれと同じ数程居て、フロツクコートを着た人も混つて、口々に汽車が
後
（
おく
）
れたから、汽車が定刻より遅く着くさうだからと云つて居る。この様を場内の
旅客
（
りよかく
）
が珍らしさうに立つて見て居る中に、
桃割
（
もヽわれ
）
に結つて
花車
（
きやしや
）
ななよ／＼とした
身体
（
からだ
）
を
伴
（
つ
）
れの二十四五の
質素
（
しそ
）
な風をした束髪の女の
身体
（
からだ
）
にもたれるやうにして、右の手ではもう一人の伴れの二十一二の束髪の女の
袂
（
たもと
）
の先を持つて、 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 265 | Author: | Doumic, René | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | George Sand; Some Aspects of her Life and Writings | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In the whole of French literary history, there is,
perhaps, no subject of such inexhaustible and modern
interest as that of George Sand. Of what use is literary
history? It is not only a kind of museum, in which a few
masterpieces are preserved for the pleasure of beholders.
It is this certainly, but it is still more than this.
Fine books are, before anything else, living works. They
not only have lived, but they continue to live. They
live within us, underneath those ideas which form our
conscience and those sentiments which inspire our
actions. There is nothing of greater importance for any
society than to make an inventory of the ideas and the
sentiments which are composing its moral atmosphere every
instant that it exists. For every individual this work
is the very condition of his
dignity. The question is, should we have these
ideas and these sentiments, if,
in the times before us, there had not been some
exceptional individuals who seized them, as it were, in
the air and made them viable and durable? These
exceptional individuals were capable of thinking more
vigorously, of feeling more deeply, and of expressing
themselves more forcibly than we are. They bequeathed
these ideas and sentiments to us. Literary history is,
then, above and beyond all things, the perpetual
examination of the conscience of humanity. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 266 | Author: | Freeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins, 1852-1930 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A Guest in Sodom | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | YES that was Benjamin Rice. He has been that way ever since the
affair of the automobile. His mind was run over and killed by that
machine, if minds can be run over and killed, and sometimes I think
they can. I have known Benjamin Rice ever since we were boys
together, and he was smart enough, but he never quite got through
his head the wickedness of the world he had been born into. He
thought everybody else was as good and honest as he was, and when
he found out he was mistaken, it was too much for him. His wife
feels just as I do about it. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 271 | Author: | Hawthorne, Julian | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Golden Fleece | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE professor crossed one long, lean leg
over the other, and punched down the
ashes in his pipe-bowl with the square tip
of his middle finger. The thermometer on
the shady veranda marked eighty-seven
degrees of heat, and nature wooed the soul to
languor and revery; but nothing could abate
the energy of this bony sage. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 272 | Author: | Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Gray Champion | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THERE was once a time when New England groaned under the actual
pressure of heavier wrongs than those threatened ones which brought
on
the Revolution. James II., the bigoted successor of Charles the
Voluptuous, had annulled the charters of all the colonies, and sent
a
harsh and
unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and endanger our
religion.
The administration of Sir Edmund Andros lacked scarcely a single
characteristic of tyranny: a Governor and Council, holding office
from
the
King, and wholly independent of the country; laws made and taxes
levied without concurrence of the people immediate or by their
representatives; the rights of private citizens violated, and the
titles of
all landed
property declared void; the voice of complaint stifled by
restrictions on
the press; and, finally, disaffection overawed by the first band of
mercenary troops that ever marched on our free soil. For two years
our
ancestors were kept in sullen submission by that filial love which
had invariably secured their allegiance to the mother country,
whether
its head
chanced to be a Parliament, Protector, or Popish Monarch. Till
these evil
times, however, such allegiance had been merely nominal, and the
colonists had ruled themselves, enjoying far more freedom than is
even
yet the
privilege of the native subjects of Great Britain. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 274 | Author: | James, Henry | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Glasses | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | YES indeed, I say to myself, pen in hand, I can keep hold of the thread
and let it lead me back to the first impression. The little story is all
there, I can touch it from point to point; for the thread, as I call it,
is a row of coloured beads on a string. None of the beads are missing--at
least I think they're not: that's exactly what I shall amuse myself with
finding out. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 279 | Author: | McAfee, Cleland Boyd | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Greatest English Classic | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THERE are three great Book-religions—Judaism, Christianity, and Mohammedanism.
Other religions have their sacred writings,
but they do not hold them in the same regard as
do these three. Buddhism and Confucianism
count their books rather records of their faith
than rules for it, history rather than authoritative
sources of belief. The three great Book-religions yield a measure of authority to their
sacred books which would be utterly foreign to
the thought of other faiths. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 285 | Author: | Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Grain of Dust. | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | INTO the offices of Lockyer, Sanders, Benchley,
Lockyer & Norman, corporation lawyers, there drifted
on a December afternoon a girl in search of work at
stenography and typewriting. The firm was about the
most important and most famous — radical orators often
said infamous — in New York. The girl seemed, at a
glance, about as unimportant and obscure an atom as
the city hid in its vast ferment. She was blonde — tawny
hair, fair skin, blue eyes. Aside from this hardly
conclusive mark of identity there was nothing positive,
nothing definite, about her. She was neither tall nor
short, neither fat nor thin, neither grave nor gay. She
gave the impression of a young person of the feminine
gender — that, and nothing more. She was plainly
dressed, like thousands of other girls, in darkish blue
jacket and skirt and white shirt waist. Her boots and
gloves were neat, her hair simply and well arranged.
Perhaps in these respects — in neatness and taste — she
did excel the average, which is depressingly low. But
in a city where more or less strikingly pretty women,
bent upon being seen, are as plentiful as the blackberries
of Kentucky's July — in New York no one would
have given her a second look, this quiet young woman
screened in an atmosphere of self-effacement. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 297 | Author: | Anonymous | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Grindwell Governing Machine | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | On the other side of the Atlantic there is a populous city called
Grandville. It is, as its name indicates, a great city, — but it is said that
it thinks itself a good deal greater than it really is. I meant to say that
Grandville was its original name, and the name by which even at the
present day it is called by its own citizens. But there are certain wits, or
it may be, vulgar people, who by some process have converted this name
into Grindwell. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 298 | Author: | Arnold, Edwin Lester Linden, d. 1935. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Gulliver of Mars | | | | Published: | 1999 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | DARE I say it? Dare I say that I, a plain, prosaic
lieutenant in the republican service have done the incredible
things here set out for the love of a woman—for a chimera
in female shape; for a pale, vapid ghost of woman-loveliness?
At times I tell myself I dare not: that you will laugh, and
cast me aside as a fabricator; and then again I pick up
my pen and collect the scattered pages, for I must write
it—the pallid splendour of that thing I loved, and won, and
lost is ever before me, and will not be forgotten. The tumult
of the struggle into which that vision led me still
throbs in my mind, the soft, lisping voices of the planet
I ransacked for its sake and the roar of the destruction
which followed me back from the quest drowns all other
sounds in my ears! I must and will write—it relieves me;
read and believe as you list. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 300 | Author: | Burroughs, Edgar Rice, 1875-1950 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Gods of Mars | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | As I stood upon the bluff before my cottage on that clear
cold night in the early part of March, 1886, the noble Hudson
flowing like the grey and silent spectre of a dead river
below me, I felt again the strange, compelling influence of
the mighty god of war, my beloved Mars, which for ten long
and lonesome years I had implored with outstretched arms
to carry me back to my lost love. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 301 | Author: | Chesnutt, Charles Waddell, 1858-1932 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Goophered Grapevine | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | ABOUT ten years ago my wife was in poor health, and our family
doctor, in whose skill and honesty I had implicit confidence, advised a
change of climate. I was engaged in grape-culture in northern Ohio, and
decided to look for a locality suitable for carrying on the same business
in some Southern State. I wrote to a cousin who had gone into the
turpentine business in central North Carolina, and he assured me that no
better place could be found in the South than the State and neighborhood
in which he lived: climate and soil were all that could be asked for, and
land could be bought for a mere song. A cordial invitation to visit him
while I looked into the matter was accepted. We found the weather
delightful at that season, the end of the summer, and were most
hospitably entertained. Our host placed a horse and buggy at our
disposal, and himself acted as guide until I got somewhat familiar with
the country. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 303 | Author: | Crane, Stephen, 1871-1900 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Great Boer Trek | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | WHEN, in 1806, Cape Colony finally passed into the hands of the
British government, it might well have seemed possible for the
white inhabitants to dwell harmoniously together. The Dutch
burghers were in race much the same men who had peopled England and
Scotland. There was none of that strong racial and religious
antipathy which seems to make forever impossible any lasting
understanding between Ireland and her dominating partner. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 304 | Author: | Crane, Stephen, 1871-1900 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | `God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.' | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | LITTLE NELL, sometimes called the Blessed Damosel, was a war
correspondent for the New York Eclipse, and at sea on the
despatch boats he wore pyjamas, and on shore he wore whatever fate
allowed him, which clothing was in the main unsuitable to the climate.
He had been cruising in the Caribbean on a small tug, awash always,
habitable never, wildly looking for Cervera's fleet; although what he was
going to do with four armoured cruisers and two destroyers in the event
of his really finding them had not been explained by the managing editor.
The cable instructions read: 'Take tug; go find Cervera's fleet.' If his
unfortunate nine-knot craft should happen to find these great twenty-knot
ships, with their two spiteful and faster attendants, Little Nell had
wondered how he was going to lose them again. He had marvelled, both
publicly and in secret, on the uncompromising asininity of managing
editors at odd moments, but he had wasted little time. The Jefferson
G. Johnson was already coaled, so he passed the word to his skipper,
bought some tinned meats, cigars, and beer, and soon the Johnson
sailed on her mission, tooting her whistle in graceful farewell to some
friends of hers in the bay. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 307 | Author: | Garshine, Mikhailovich Vsevolod, 1855-1888 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Gipsy's Bear — A Story | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IN the steppe the town of Bielsk nestles on the river Rokhla. In
September of 1857 the town was in a state of unwonted excitement. The
Government's order for the killing of the bears was to be executed. The
unhappy gipsies had journeyed to Bielsk from four districts with all their
household effects, their horses and their bears. More than a hundred of
these awkward beasts, ranging from tiny cubs to huge "old men" whose
coats had become whitish-gray with age, had collected on the town
common. The gipsies had been given five years' grace from the
publication of the order prohibiting performing bears, and this period
had expired. They were now to appear at specified places and
themselves destroy their supporters. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 308 | Author: | Grahame, Kenneth | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Golden Age | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | LOOKING back to those days of old, ere the
gate shut behind me, I can see now that to
children with a proper equipment of parents
these things would have worn a different
aspect. But to those whose nearest were
aunts and uncles, a special attitude of mind
may be allowed. They treated us, indeed,
with kindness enough as to the needs of the
flesh, but after that with indifference (an
indifference, as I recognise, the result of a
certain stupidity), and therewith the
commonplace conviction that your child is
merely animal. At a very early age I
remember realising in a quite impersonal and
kindly way the existence of that stupidity,
and its tremendous influence in the world;
while there grew up in me, as in the parallel
case of Caliban upon Setebos, a vague sense
of a ruling power, wilful and freakish, and
prone to the practice of vagaries—"just
choosing so"; as, for instance, the giving
of authority over us
to these hopeless and incapable creatures,
when it might far more reasonably have been
given to ourselves over them. These elders,
our betters by a trick of chance, commanded
no respect, but only a certain blend of
envy — of their good luck — and pity — for their
inability to make use of it. Indeed, it was
one of the most hopeless features in their
character (when we troubled ourselves to
waste a thought on them: which wasn't often)
that, having absolute licence to indulge in
the pleasures of life, they could get no good
of it. They might dabble in the pond all
day, hunt the chickens, climb trees in the
most uncompromising Sunday clothes; they were
free to issue forth and buy gunpowder in the
full eye of the sun — free to fire cannons and
explode mines on the lawn: yet they never did
any one of these things. No irresistible
Energy haled them to church o' Sundays; yet
they went there regularly of their own
accord, though they betrayed no greater
delight in the experience than ourselves. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 309 | Author: | Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Gentle Boy | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IN the course of the year 1656, several of the people called
Quakers, led,
as they professed, by the inward movement of the spirit, made their
appearance in New England. Their reputation, as holders of mystic
and
pernicious principles, having spread before them, the Puritans
early
endeavored to banish, and to prevent the further intrusion of the
rising
sect. But
the measures by which it was intended to purge the land of heresy,
though
more than sufficiently vigorous, were entirely unsuccessful. The
Quakers,
esteeming persecution as a divine call to the post of danger, laid
claim to
a holy courage, unknown to the Puritans themselves, who had shunned
the cross, by providing for the peaceable exercise of their
religion in a
distant wilderness. Though it was the singular fact, that every
nation of
the earth rejected the wandering enthusiasts who practised peace
towards
all men, the place of greatest uneasiness and peril, and therefore,
in their
eyes the most eligible, was the province of Massachusetts Bay. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 310 | Author: | Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Great Carbuncle | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | AT nightfall, once in the olden time, on the rugged side of one of
the Crystal Hills, a party of adventurers were refreshing
themselves, after
a toilsome and fruitless quest for the Great Carbuncle. They had
come
thither,
not as friends nor partners in the enterprise, but each, save one
youthful
pair, impelled by his own selfish and solitary longing for this
wondrous
gem. Their feeling of brotherhood, however, was strong enough to
induce
them to contribute a mutual aid in building a rude hut of branches,
and
kindling a great fire of shattered pines, that had drifted down the
head-long current of the Amonoosuck, on the lower bank of which
they
were to
pass the night. There was but one of their number, perhaps, who had
become so estranged from natural sympathies, by the absorbing spell
of the
pursuit, as to acknowledge no satisfaction at the sight of human
faces, in
the remote and solitary region whither they had ascended. A vast
extent of
wilderness lay between them and the nearest settlement, while a
scant
mile above their heads was that black verge where the hills throw
off their
shaggy mantle of forest trees, and either robe themselves in clouds
or
tower naked into the sky. The roar of the Amonoosuck would have
been
too awful for endurance if only a solitary man had listened, while
the
mountain stream talked with the wind. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 314 | Author: | Jewett, Sarah Orne | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Going to Shrewsbury | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE train stopped at a way station with apparent
unwillingness, and there was barely time for one elderly passenger
to be hurried on board before a sudden jerk threw her almost off
her unsteady old feet and we moved on. At my first glance I saw
only a perturbed old country woman, laden with a large basket and
a heavy bundle tied up in an old-fashioned bundle-handkerchief;
then I discovered that she was a friend of mine, Mrs. Peet, who
lived on a small farm, several miles from the village. She used to
be renowned for good butter and fresh eggs and the earliest cowslip
greens; in fact, she always made the most of her farm's slender
resources; but it was some time since I had seen her drive by from
market in her ancient thorough-braced wagon. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 315 | Author: | Parins, James W. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Genius of Sequoyah | | | | Published: | 2004 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Sequoyah, the much-honored creator of the Cherokee syllabary, the means by which
anyone speaking the Cherokee language could become literate, was an unlettered
man himself until he finished his system. Nonetheless, the Cherokee historian
Dr. Emmett Starr reported, written language held a particular fascination for
him. Seeing the written page used by white people, Sequoyah at first thought
that each letter stood for a word. Upon closer examination, however, he
concluded that this could not be true, and that a better explanation was that
each letter represented a sound. This idea, which came to him around 1809, was
the seed from which the Cherokee syllabary grew. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 316 | 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 |
| 318 | Author: | Twain, Mark, 1835-1910 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Great Revolution in Pitcairn | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | LET me refresh the reader's memory a little. Nearly
a hundred years ago the crew of the British ship
Bounty mutinied, set the captain and his officers adrift
upon the open sea, took possession of the ship, and
sailed southward. They procured wives for themselves
among the natives of Tahiti, then proceeded to a lonely
little rock in mid-Pacific, called Pitcairn's Island,
wrecked the vessel, stripped her of everything that
might be useful to a new colony, and established themselves
on shore. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 321 | Author: | Wilkins, Mary E. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A Gatherer of Simples | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | A DAMP air was blowing up, and the frogs were beginning to peep.
The sun was setting in a low red sky. On both sides of the road
were rich green meadows intersected by little canal-like brooks.
Beyond the meadows on the west was a distant stretch of pine woods,
that showed dark against the clear sky. Aurelia Flower was going
along the road toward her home, with a great sheaf of leaves and
flowers in her arms. There were the rosy spikes of hardhack; the
great white corymbs of thoroughwort, and the long blue racemes of
lobelia. Then there were great bunches of the odorous tansy and
pennyroyal in with the rest. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 323 | Author: | Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Grain of Dust. | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | INTO the offices of Lockyer, Sanders, Benchley,
Lockyer & Norman, corporation lawyers, there drifted
on a December afternoon a girl in search of work at
stenography and typewriting. The firm was about the
most important and most famous — radical orators often
said infamous — in New York. The girl seemed, at a
glance, about as unimportant and obscure an atom as
the city hid in its vast ferment. She was blonde — tawny
hair, fair skin, blue eyes. Aside from this hardly
conclusive mark of identity there was nothing positive,
nothing definite, about her. She was neither tall nor
short, neither fat nor thin, neither grave nor gay. She
gave the impression of a young person of the feminine
gender — that, and nothing more. She was plainly
dressed, like thousands of other girls, in darkish blue
jacket and skirt and white shirt waist. Her boots and
gloves were neat, her hair simply and well arranged.
Perhaps in these respects — in neatness and taste — she
did excel the average, which is depressingly low. But
in a city where more or less strikingly pretty women,
bent upon being seen, are as plentiful as the blackberries
of Kentucky's July — in New York no one would
have given her a second look, this quiet young woman
screened in an atmosphere of self-effacement. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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