| | 81 | Author: | Tyler
Royall
1757-1826 | Add | | | Title: | The Yankey in London  | | | | 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: | ACCEPT my warmest thanks for the
letters of introduction you presented me
at parting, and for those transmitted me
by the ship Union; and suffer me, through
you, to make my grateful acknowledgments
to Mr. G. for his very friendly
proffer of making me known to some
“excellent English friends.”—I do assure
you, very few of our countrymen have
left in London such favourable impressions
of the American character as that
gentleman. Indeed, all our United States'
agents have done honour to our national
diplomacy: among them Mr. K. and Mr.
G. will be long distinguished; the former
for the classical elegance of his bureau
address, the latter for his commercial
science—and both for that dignified, polished
demeanour which European gentlemen
will hardly admit can be attained
without the tour of that continent. I
ought, in justice, to observe, that our present
envoy is a gentleman highly esteemed
for the suavity of his manners, and respected
for his adherence to the commercial
rights of his nation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 83 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Letters of Lucius M. Piso, from Palmyra, to his friend Marcus Curtius at Rome | | | | 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: | As I returned from the worship of the Christians to
the house of Gracchus, my thoughts wandered from the
subjects which had just occupied my mind, to the condition
of the country, and the prospect now growing more
and more portentous of an immediate rupture with
Rome. On my way I passed through streets of more
than Roman magnificence, exhibiting all the signs of
wealth, taste, refinement, and luxury. The happy, lighthearted
populace were moving through them, enjoying at
their leisure the calm beauty of the evening, or hastening
to or from some place of festivity. The earnest tone of
conversation, the loud laugh, the witty retort, the merry
jest, fell upon my ear from one and another as I passed
along. From the windows of the palaces of the merchants
and nobles, the rays of innumerable lights
streamed across my path, giving to the streets almost the
brilliancy of day; and the sound of music, either of
martial instruments, or of the harp accompanied by the
voice, at every turn arrested my attention, and made me
pause to listen. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 84 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Probus, or, Rome in the third century | | | | 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 record which follows, is by the hand of me,
Nichomachus, once the happy servant of the great Queen
of Palmyra, than whom the world never saw a queen
more illustrious, nor a woman adorned with brighter virtues.
But my design is not to write her eulogy, nor recite
the wonderful story of her life. That task requires
a stronger and a more impartial hand than mine. The
life of Zenobia by Nichomachus, would be the portrait
of a mother and a divinity, drawn by the pen of a child
and a worshipper. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 85 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Probus, or, Rome in the third century | | | | 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: | Marcus and Lucilia are inconsolable. Their grief,
I fear, will be lasting as it is violent. They have no
resource but to plunge into affairs and drive away memory
by some active and engrossing occupation. Yet
they cannot always live abroad; they must at times
return to themselves and join the company of their own
thoughts. And then memory is not to be put off; at
such moments this faculty seems to constitute the mind
more than any other. It becomes in a manner the mind
itself. The past rises up in spite of ourselves, and overshadows
the present. Whether its scenes have been
prosperous or afflictive, but especially if they have been
shameful, do they present themselves with all the vividness
of the objects before us and the passing hour, and
minister to our joy or increase our pains. We in vain
attempt to escape. We are prisoners in the hands of a
giant. To forget is not in our power. The will is impotent.
The effort to forget is often but an effort to remember.
Fast as we fly, so fast the enemy of our peace
pursues. Memory is a companion who never leaves us
— or never leaves us long. It is the true Nemesis.
Tartarean regions have no worse woes, nor the Hell of
Christians, than memory inflicts upon those who have
done evil. My friends struggle in vain. They have
not done evil indeed, but they have suffered it. The
sorest calamity that afflicts mortals has overtaken them;
their choicest jewel has been torn from them; and they
can no more drown the memory of their loss than they
can take that faculty itself and tear it from their souls.
Comfort cannot come from that quarter. It can come
only from being re-possessed of that which has been lost
hereafter and from enjoying the hope of that felicity now.
See how Marcus writes. After much else he says, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 86 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Julian, or Scenes in Judea | | | | 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: | Praise to the God of Abraham. The locusts
are flown. The land which they found flourishing
and verdant as a garden, they have
changed to the barrenness of a desert. The
cities and the villages, but now so full of people,
are become the region of desolation and
death. Even the very city and house of God
are level with the dust, and the ploughshare
has gone over them. And here, upon the hill
of Olives, I sit, a living witness of the ruin.
By reason of the wonderful compassions of God,
which never fail, I am escaped as a bird from
the net of the fowler. Yet I take little joy in
this. For why should the days of one like me
be lengthened out, when the mighty and excellent
of the land are cut off? I rather rejoice
in this, that the spoiler is gone; the armies of
the alien have ceased to devour; and they
who are fled, and hidden in caves and dens
of the rocks, may come forth again to inhabit
the land and build up the waste places.
A multitude, which no man could number, have
fallen before the edge of the sword, or by famine,
and the air is full of the pestilential vapors
that steam up from their rotting carcases. But
a greater multitude remains; and it may well
be that ere many years have passed, they shall
fill the land as before, and gathered into one by
him who, though long delaying, will come, pay
back, and more, the measure they have received.
That time will surely come. Even as the
Assyrian could not finally destroy, but the hand
of the Almighty was put forth, and the city
and the temple grew again from their ruins
to a greater glory than before, so shall it be now.
The Roman triumph shall be short. Messiah
shall yet appear; and Jerusalem clothed in her
beautiful garments shall sit upon her hills, the
joy and crown of the whole earth. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 87 | Author: | Whittier
John Greenleaf
1807-1892 | Add | | | Title: | Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9 | | | | 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: | “Dear Friend: I salute thee with much love from
this new Countrie, where the Lord hath spread a table
for us in the Wilderness. Here is a goodlie companie
of Friends, who doe seek to know the mind of Truth,
and to live thereby, being held in favor and esteem by
the Rulers of the Land, and soe left in Peace to worship
God according to their consciences. The whole
Countrie being covered with Snow, and the Weather
being extreme cold, we can scarce say much of the
natural gifts and advantages of our new Home; but it
lyeth on a small River, and there be fertile Meadowes
and old Cornfields of the Indians, and good Springs of
Water, soe that I am told it is a desirable and pleasing
place in the warm season. My soul is full of Thankfulness;
and a sweet inward Peace is my portion.
Hard things are made easie to me; this desert place,
with its lonelie Woods and wintry Snows, is beautiful
in mine eyes. For here we be no longer gazing-stocks
of the rude Multitude, we are no longer haled from our
Meetings, and rayled upon as Witches and possessed
People. Oh! how often have we been called upon
heretofore to repeat the prayer of one formerlie —
`Let me not fall into the hands of man.' Sweet,
beyond the power of words to express, hath been the
change in this respect; and in view of the Mercies
vouchsafed unto us, what can we do but repeat the
language of David? — `Praise is comelie; yea, a joyful
and pleasant thing it is to be thankful. It is a good
thing to give thanks unto the Lord, to sing praises unto
thy Name, O Most High! to show forth thy loving
kindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every
night.' | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 88 | Author: | EDITED BY N. P. WILLIS. | Add | | | Title: | The legendary | | | | 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 is, I believe, or should be, a maxim of the
true church, that confession of a sin is the first step
towards its expiation. `When you receive this letter, your three sons will
be no more. Frederic de Lancey is the bearer of it.
He has done our dear Edward a signal service, and I
have thought him trustworthy to convey to Alice the
picture of my mother. My heart bleeds when I think
of you, without one prop for your old age, save our innocent
and helpless sister. We are all satisfied De
Lancey would be a faithful son to you if you will permit
him to be. In case of his death tomorrow—and the
chances of war are alike to all—he has bequeathed to
us all he is worth, and it is the earnest wish of my
brothers as well as myself, that if he should be the only
survivor, you would adopt him; and if he and sister
Alice should fancy each other, that he may become a
son in reality. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 89 | Author: | EDITED BY N. P. WILLIS. | Add | | | Title: | The legendary | | | | 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: | `Have you ever read Undine, Tom? Did you conceive
of a river of wondrous and perfect beauty?
Was it fringed with all manner of stooping trees, and
kissed to the very lip by clover? Did it wind constantly
in and out, as if both banks were enamoured of its flow
and enticed it from each other's bosoms? Was it hidden
sometimes by thick masses of leaves meeting over
it, and sometimes by the swelling of a velvet slope that
sent it rippling away into shadow? and did it steal out
again like a happy child from a hiding place, and flash
up to your eye till you would have sworn it was living
and intelligent? Did the banks lean away in a rich,
deep verdure, and were the meadows sleeping beneath
the light, like a bosom in a silk mantle? and when
your ear had drank in the music of the running water,
and the loveliness of color and form had unsettled the
earthliness within you, did you believe in your heart
that a strip of Eden had been left unmarred by the angel? `She who brings you this letter is my only child—
all the treasure I possess in this world. Therefore, I
trust her to you, relying on your honor. If the walls of
Soleure fall, I shall be buried under their ruins; but if
you grant your protection to my daughter, I shall have
no more anxiety for her. Give me some token that
you grant my petition, and you will receive your reward
from that Being who watches over the innocent, and
who knows our hearts. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 92 | Author: | McHenry
James
1753-1816 | Add | | | Title: | The wilderness, or, Braddock's times | | | | 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: | Let melancholy spirits talk as they please concerning
the degeneracy and increasing miseries of
mankind, I will not believe them. They have
been speaking ill of themselves, and predicting
worse of their posterity, from time immemorial;
and yet, in the present year, 1823, when, if the
one hundreth part of their gloomy forebodings
had been realized, the earth must have become
a Pandemonium, and men something worse than
devils, (for devils they have been long ago,
in the opinion of these charitable denunciators,)
I am free to assert, that we have as many honest
men, pretty women, healthy children, cultivated
fields, convenient houses, elegant kinds of furniture,
and comfortable clothes, as any generation
of our ancestors ever possessed. “I am glad you are come back so soon.—
My sister—your wife—was cast down in your absence.
But I could not blame her—for I remember
when Shanalow, my husband, went first to
hunt, after our marriage, I was disconsolate, and
dreamed every night of evil till he returned. He
is now gone to his fathers, and shall never more
return. But he died of a breast-wound fighting
the Otawas, and our whole tribe has praised
him. The warning which Tonnaleuka had given
Charles to be circumspect in regard to the enemy,
was not lost upon him. He employed Paddy
Frazier as a scout to hover round the French station
at Le Bœuf in order to watch their motions
and give him the earliest intelligence of their
design. He also kept four or five of his men
constantly employed in ranging on horseback,
those quarters of the country from which he could
be suddenly attacked, while the whole of the remainder
were busily engaged in digging trenches,
and preparing long pointed stakes to fix in the
ground to form their stoccade fortification. From
the friendly Indians he at first rceived considerable
aid in forwarding his works; but in a few
days he began to perceive their ardour in his behalf
to diminish; and suspecting that they had
imbided some unfriendly feeling towards him, he
thought proper to visit king Shingiss, and expostulate
with him on the subject. “My persuading you to submit, at this time,
to a residence in a dark subterraneous cell, is a
proof how anxious I am for your safety. You
will, no doubt, feel your situation lonely and disagreeable;
but I hope the necessity for it will not
be of long continuance; and, in the meanwhile,
in order to relieve its tediousness as much as possible,
I shall send you a supply of such books as I
possess, best suited for your entertainment. You
may be also assured, that our family will let you
want for nothing in their power to afford you
comfort. “We, the officers of the Virginia regiment, are
highly sensible of the particular mark of distinction
with which you have honoured us in returning
your thanks for our behaviour in the late action;
and cannot help testifying our grateful acknowledgments
for your “high sense” of what we
shall always esteem a duty to our country and the
best of kings. “Dear Sir—The progress we have made in the
transaction, in which your son and my niece were
to be the parties disposed of, had induced me to
hope for a speedy and final settlement of the affair;
but I am sorry to say, that owing to some
misadventure on the part of your son, the bargain
is likely to fail on your side. My niece,
which was the part of the concern for which I
stood engaged, is still substantial and ready for delivery,
when the equivalent shall be forthcoming,
and the demand made. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 93 | Author: | Bird
Robert Montgomery
1806-1854 | Add | | | Title: | The Hawks of Hawk-hollow | | | | 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: | America is especially the land of change. From
the moment of discovery, its history has been a
record of convulsions, such as necessarily attend
a transition from barbarism to civilization; and to
the end of time, it will witness those revolutions in
society, which arise in a community unshackled
by the restraints of prerogative. As no law of
primogeniture can ever entail the distinctions meritoriously
won, or the wealth painfully amassed, by
a single individual, upon a line of descendants, the
mutations in the condition of families will be perpetual.
The Dives of to-day will be the Diogenes
of to-morrow; and the `man of the tub' will often
live to see his children change place with those of
the palace-builder. As it has been, so will it be,—
“Now up, now doun, as boket in a well;”
and the honoured and admired of one generation
will be forgotten among the moth-lived luminaries
of the next. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 96 | Author: | Brainard
John G. C.
(John Gardiner Calkins)
1796-1828 | Add | | | Title: | Letters Found in the Ruins of Fort Braddock, Including an Interesting American Tale | | | | 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: | IT is now spring—the buds are bursting
through all the wilderness about me; but the cold
rains which are constantly descending, make my
condition so cheerless, that I write to you merely
to pass the time. Why I was doomed to spend my
winter here so solitary, or when I shall have the
good luck to shift my quarters, for any other spot,
is past my skill to divine. Any other spot—the
Arkansas, the Rio Colorada, the Council Bluffs,
the Yellow Stone, any place but this. Was I dangerous
to government, that they should have contrived
for one poor subaltern, this Siberian banishment,
where I am ingeniously confined, not by
a guard placed over me, but by having the command
of about five and twenty men, that the spring
discovers in a uniform of rags. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 97 | Author: | Briggs
Charles F.
(Charles Frederick)
1804-1877 | Add | | | Title: | The Adventures of Harry Franco | | | | 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: | It is a generally received opinion in some parts
of the world, that a man must of necessity have
had ancestors; but, in our truly independent
country, we contrive to get along very well without
them. That strange race, called Aristocrats,
it is said, consider every body as nobody, unless
they can boast of at least a dozen ancestors. These
lofty people would have scorned an alliance with
a parvenu like Adam, of course. What a fortunate
circumstance for their high mightinesses, that
they were not born in the early ages. No antediluvian
family would have been entitled to the
slightest consideration from them. When the
world was only two thousand years old, it is
melancholy to reflect, its surface was covered with
nobodies; men of yesterday, without an ancestry
worth speaking of. It is not to be wondered at,
that such a set of upstarts should have caused the
flood; nothing less would have washed away their
vulgarity, to say nothing of their sins. Augustus de Satinett was a jobber; a choicer
spirit the region of Hanover square boasted not.
Pearl street and Maiden Lane may have known
his equal, his superior never. He had risen from
junior clerk to junior partner, in one of the oldest
firms. The best blood of the revolution flowed in
his veins; his mother was a Van Buster, his father
a de Satinett; a more remote ancestry, or a more
noble, it were vain to desire. Augustus had a noble
soul, it was a seven quarter full; his virtues
were all his own, and they were dyed in the wool;
his vices were those of his age—they were dyed
in the cloth. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 98 | Author: | Briggs
Charles F.
(Charles Frederick)
1804-1877 | Add | | | Title: | The Adventures of Harry Franco | | | | 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: | It was a broiling hot day, and as I toiled along
through the dusty streets of Brooklyn towards
the ferry, I almost wished myself back again upon
the blue sea. Dear Sir—This is to inform you as I
have entered in Uncle Sam's service, and have
took three month's advance. I have kept money
enough to have a good drunk, and the rest I send
to you. Keep it and spend it for my sake. I wanted
to of given you more, but that young woman,
blast her—but never say die. So no more at present
till death, and don't forget your old shipmate, Is it true that my dear boy is alive and
well! O, Harry, I have read your letter over and
over; and your poor sister has read it, and cried
over it, and prayed over it. I put it under my
pillow when I lay down at night, that I may be
able to press it to my lips when I wake in the
morning. Your father tells me it is weak in me
to do so, but it is a weakness caused by the
strength of my love for you. O, Harry, my dear
boy, I have had such dreams about you! but
they were only dreams, and I will not distress you
by relating them. Let us give thanks to our
heavenly Father for all his mercies. When we
received your letter, it was my wish to return
thanks publicly through Doctor Slospoken; but
your father would not give his consent. What
the neighbors all thought, I cannot say. But my
dear Harry, why did you not come home? to
your own home? Do not think, my dear child,
that you will be more welcome to your home and
your mother's heart, if you bring the wealth of
the Indies with you. If you be covered with
jewels your mother will not see them, and if you
be clothed in rags, she will only see her child. Your letter has made us all happy; how
happy I cannot express; for we had mourned for
you as one that was dead. I cannot, in a letter,
relate to you all that has been said and done since
we heard from you; but may be assured we
have been almost beside ourselves with joy, and
all our talk has been, Harry, Harry, Harry. “My conscience upbraids me with having
broken the golden rule, in my intercourse with
you, and I cannot allow you to leave me, under a
false impression of my feelings. I am afraid I
have not been sufficiently plain, when you have
spoken to me on the subject, in giving you to understand
that my mind is unalterably fixed, never
to unite myself to one, whose heart has not been
bowed under the conscious burden of his sins;
for my promise has been passed, mentally only,
I own, but I cannot break it. It is registered
above. Had I known you before the vow was
made, perhaps it never would have been; but it
is, and I am bound by it. Our hands, dear Harry,
may never be united, but our hearts may be.
I cannot dissimulate, I do love you; how well I
love you, let this confession witness. If it be sinful
in me, I trust that He, in whom is all my trust,
will pardon me, and deliver me from my bondage.
And my constant prayer to Him is, that he will
bring you to the foot of that Cross, where alone I
can meet you. “Immediately on the receipt of this, you
will destroy all the blank acceptances of Marisett
and Co., which may remain in your hands.
Make no farther contracts of any description,
for account of our house, but hold yourself in
readiness to return to New York. “Since our last, of the 28th ult., we have
come to the determination of stopping payment.
It may be necessary for us to make an assignment;
if so, we will advise you farther, and remain, “We are without any of your valued favors
since we acknowledged yours of the 14th.
You have already been informed of the stoppage
of our house; and I have now to inform you, that
in consequence of our Mr. Garvey having used
the name of the firm to a very great extent, in
his private land operations, our liabilities are
found greatly to exceed our assets. Our senior
partner, I am concerned to add, is completely
prostrated by this event, and unable to afford me
the aid which I require in adjusting the affairs of
the concern. All the circumstances considered, I
think it will be advisable for you to return to
New York as soon as you can bring matters to a
close at New Orleans. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 99 | Author: | Child
Lydia Maria Francis
1802-1880 | Add | | | Title: | Hobomok | | | | 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: | I NEVER view the thriving villages of New England,
which speak so forcibly to the heart, of happiness
and prosperity, without feeling a glow of national
pride, as I say, “this is my own, my native
land.” A long train of associations are connected
with her picturesque rivers, as they repose in their
peaceful loveliness, the broad and sparkling mirror of
the heavens,—and with the cultivated environs of her
busy cities, which seem every where blushing into a
perfect Eden of fruit and flowers. The remembrance
of what we have been, comes rushing on the heart in
powerful and happy contrast. In most nations the
path of antiquity is shrouded in darkness, rendered
more visible by the wild, fantastic light of fable;
but with us, the vista of time is luminous to its remotest
point. Each succeeding year has left its footsteps
distinct upon the soil, and the cold dew of our chilling
dawn is still visible beneath the mid-day sun. Two
centuries only have elapsed, since our most beautiful
villages reposed in the undisturbed grandeur of nature;—when
the scenes now rendered classic by literary
associations, or resounding with the din of commerce,
echoed nought but the song of the hunter, or
the fleet tread of the wild deer. God was here in his
holy temple, and the whole earth kept silence before
him! But the voice of prayer was soon to be heard in
the desert. The sun, which for ages beyond the memory
of man had gazed on the strange, fearful worship
of the Great Spirit of the wilderness, was soon to
shed its splendor upon the altars of the living God.
That light, which had arisen amid the darkness of
Europe, stretched its long, luminous track across the
Atlantic, till the summits of the western world became
tinged with its brightness. During many long,
long ages of gloom and corruption, it seemed as if the
pure flame of religion was every where quenched in
blood;—but the watchful vestal had kept the sacred
flame still burning deeply and fervently. Men, stern
and unyielding, brought it hither in their own bosom,
and amid desolation and poverty they kindled it on the
shrine of Jevovah. In this enlightened and liberal
age, it is perhaps too fashionable to look back upon
those early sufferers in the cause of the Reformation,
as a band of dark, discontented bigots. Without
doubt, there were many broad, deep shadows in their
characters, but there was likewise bold and powerful
light. The peculiarities of their situation occasioned
most of their faults, and atoned for them. They were
struck off from a learned, opulent, and powerful nation,
under circumstances which goaded and lacerated
them almost to ferocity;—and it is no wonder that
men who fled from oppression in their own country, to
all the hardships of a remote and dreary province,
should have exhibited a deep mixture of exclusive,
bitter, and morose passions. To us indeed, most of
the points for which they so strenuously contended,
must appear exceedingly absurd and trifling; and we
cannot forbear a smile that vigorous and cultivated
minds should have looked upon the signing of the
cross with so much horror and detestation. But the
heart pays involuntary tribute to conscientious, persevering
fortitude, in what cause soever it may be displayed.
At this impartial period we view the sound
policy and unwearied zeal with which the Jesuits endeavored
to rebuild their decaying church, with almost
as much admiration as we do the noble spirit of
reaction which it produced. Whatever merit may be
attached to the cause of our forefathers, the mighty
effort which they made for its support is truly wonderful;
and whatever might have been their defects,
they certainly possessed excellencies, which peculiarly
fitted them for a van-guard in the proud and rapid
march of freedom. The bold outlines of their character
alone remain to us. The varying tints of domestic
detail are already concealed by the ivy which
clusters around the tablets of our recent history.
Some of these have lately been unfolded in an old,
worn-out manuscript, which accidentally came in my
way. It was written by one of my ancestors who fled
with the persecuted nonconformists from the Isle of
Wight, and about the middle of June, 1629, arrived at
Naumkeak on the eastern shore of Massachusetts.
Every one acquainted with our early history remembers
the wretched state in which they found the
scanty remnant of their brethren at that place. I
shall, therefore, pass over the young man's dreary account
of sickness and distress, and shall likewise take
the liberty of substituting my own expressions for his
antiquated and almost unintelligible style. “This comes to reminde you of one you sometime
knew at Plimouth. One to whome the remembrance
of your comely face and gratious behaviour, hath
proved a very sweete savour. Many times I have
thought to write to you, and straightnesse of time only
hath prevented. There is much to doe at this seasone,
and wee have reason to rejoyce, though with fier
and trembling, that we have wherewithal to worke. “Wheras Mr. Collier hathe beene supposed to
blame concerning some businesse he hath of late endeavoured
to transacte for Mr. Hopkins, this cometh
to certifie that he did faithfully performe his dutie,
and moreover that his great modestie did prevente his
understanding many hints, until I spoke even as he
hath represented. Wherefore, if there be oughte unseemly
in this, it lieth on my shoulders. “I againe take up my penn to write upon the same
paper you gave me when I left you, and tolde me
thereupon to write my thoughts in the deserte. Alas,
what few I have, are sad ones. I remember you once
saide that Shakspeare would have beene the same
greate poet if he had been nurtured in a Puritan wildernesse.
But indeed it is harde for incense to rise
in a colde, heavy atmosphere, or for the buds of fancie
to put forth, where the heartes of men are as harde
and sterile as their unploughed soile. You will wonder
to hear me complain, who have heretofore beene
so proud of my cheerfulnesse. Alas, howe often is
pride the cause of things whereunto we give a better
name. Perhaps I have trusted too muche to my owne
strengthe in this matter, and Heaven is nowe pleased
to send a more bitter dispensation, wherewithal to
convince me of my weakness. I woulde tell you
more, venerable parente, but Mr. Brown will conveye
this to your hande, and he will saye much, that I cannot
finde hearte or roome for. The settlement of this
Western Worlde seemeth to goe on fast now that soe
many men of greate wisdome and antient blood are
employed therein. They saye much concerning our
holie church being the Babylone of olde, and that
vials of fierce wrath are readie to be poured out upon
her. If the prophecies of these mistaken men are to
be fulfilled, God grante I be not on earthe to witnesse
it. My dear mother is wasting awaye, though I hope
she will long live to comforte me. She hath often
spoken of you lately. A fewe dayes agone, she said
she shoulde die happier if her grey-haired father
coulde shed a tear upon her grave. I well know that
when that daye does come, we shall both shed many
bitter tears. I must leave some space in this paper
for her feeble hande to fill. The Lord have you in
His holie keeping till your dutifull grandchilde is
againe blessed with the sighte of your countenance. “I knowe nott wherewithal to address you, for my
hearte is full, and my hande trembleth with weaknesse.
My kinde Mary is mistaken in thinking I shall
long sojourne upon Earthe. I see the grave opening
before me, but I feel that I cannot descend thereunto
till I have humbly on my knees asked the forgiveness
of my offended father. He who hath made man's
hearte to suffer, alone knoweth the wretchedness of
mine when I have thought of your solitary old age.
Pardon, I beseech you, my youthfull follie and disobedience,
and doe not take offence if I write that the
husbande for whose sake I have suffered much, hath
been through life a kinde and tender helpe-meete; for
I knowe it will comforte you to think upon this, when
I am dead and gone. I would saye much more, but
though my soule is strong in affection for you, my
body is weake. God Almighty bless you, is the
prayer of “Manie thoughts crowde into my hearte, when I
take upp my pen to write to you. Straightwaye my
deare wife, long in her grave, cometh before me, and
bringeth the remembrance of your owne babie face,
as you sometime lay suckling in her arms. The
bloode of anciente men floweth slow, and the edge of
feeling groweth blunte: but heavie thoughts will rise
on the surface of the colde streame, and memorie will
probe the wounded hearte with her sharpe lancett.
There hath been much wronge betweene us, my deare
childe, and I feel that I trode too harshlie on your
young hearte: but it maye nott be mended. I have
had many kinde thoughts of you, though I have locked
them up with the keye of pride. The visit of Mr.
Brown was very grievious unto me, inasmuch as he
tolde me more certainly than I had known before.
that you were going downe to the grave. Well, my
childe, `it is a bourne from whence no traveller returns.'
My hande trembleth while I write this, and I
feel that I too am hastening thither. Maye we meete
in eternitie. The tears dropp on the paper when I
think we shall meete no more in time. Give my fervente
love to Mary. She is too sweete a blossom to
bloome in the deserte. Mr. Brown tolde me much
that grieved me to hear. He is a man of porte and
parts, and peradventure she maye see the time when
her dutie and inclination will meete together. The
greye hairs of her olde Grandefather maye be laide
in the duste before that time; but she will finde he
hath nott forgotten her sweete countenance and gratious
behaviour. I am gladd you have founde a kinde
helpe-meete in Mr. Conant. May God prosper him
according as he hath dealte affectionately with my
childe. Forgive your olde father as freelie as he forgiveth
you. And nowe, God in his mercie bless you,
dere childe of my youthe. Farewell. “This doth certifie that the witche hazel sticks,
which were givene to the witnesses of my marriage
are all burnte by my requeste: therefore by Indian
laws, Hobomok and Mary Conant are divorced. And
this I doe, that Mary may be happie. The same will
be testified by my kinsmen Powexis, Mawhalissis, and
Mackawalaw. The deere and foxes are for my goode
Mary, and my boy. Maye the Englishmen's God
bless them all. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
|
