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1Author:  unknownRequires cookie*
 Title:  A new and comprehensive gazetteer of Virginia, and the District of Columbia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: "I have recently returned from a geological excursion in Virginia. I entered the state near the head waters of the Potomac, passed thence to Winchester, followed the course of that fine Valley to the Natural Bridge; retracting my steps, I turned westwardly at Staunton, crossed the mountain at Jennings' Gap, and visited the justly celebrated medicinal springs in that region, returning, I went from Staunton through Charlottesville to Richmond, and down the James to its mouth. When this tour is taken in connection with a former visit to Wheeling, it will be conceded that I have seen enough of the state to enable me to form a rough estimate of its geological and mineralogical importance and I do assure you sir, that although my anticipations were far from being meagre, I was astonished at the vastness and variety of interesting objects in that department of natural history, that were constantly developing themselves, inviting the mind of man to reflection, and his hand to industry, and displaying at every step the wisdom and benificence of the Great Creater. In answer to your letter of the 29th ult I have much pleasure in stating, that I was highly gratified by my excursion to the Red Sulphur Springs last season. It was my first visit to that place, and I was so much pleased with the water, the entertainment and the scenery, that my stay was protracted, with enjoyment, for nearly three weeks.
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2Author:  Howe Henry 1816-1893Requires cookie*
 Title:  Historical collections of Virginia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: The term of service for which the Petersburg Volunteers were engaged having expired, they are permitted to commence their march to Virginia, as soon as they can be transported to the south side of the lake. George W. Smith, governor, A. B. Venable, president of the bank, Benjamin Botts, wife, and niece, Mrs. Tayloe Braxton, Mrs. Patterson, Mrs. Gallego, Miss Conyers, Lieut. J. Gibbon, in attempting to save Miss Conyers; Mrs. E. Page, Miss Louisa Mayo, Mrs. William Cook, Miss Elvina Coutts, Mrs. John Lesley, Miss M. Nelson, Miss Nelson, Miss Page, Wm. Brown, Miss Julia Hervey, Miss Whitlock, George Dixon, A. Marshall (of Wythe) broke his neck in attempting to jump from a window, Miss Ann Craig, Miss Stevenson, (of Spottsylvania,) Mrs. Gibson, Miss Maria Hunter, Mrs. Mary Davis, Miss Gerard, Thomas Lecroix, Jane Wade, Mrs. Picket, Mrs. Heron, Mrs. Laforest and niece, Jo. Jacobs, Miss Jacobs, Miss. A. Bausman, Miss M. Marks, Edward Wanton, Jr., two Misses Trouins, Mrs. Gerer, Mrs. Elicott, Miss Patsey Griffin, Mrs. Moss and daughter, Miss Littlepage, Miss Rebecca Cook, Mrs. Girardin and two children, Miss Margaret Copeland, Miss Gwathmey, Miss Clay, daughter of M. Clay, member of Congress, Miss Gatewood, Mrs. Thomas Wilson, Wm. Southgate, Mrs. Robert Greenhow, Mrs. Convert and child, Miss Green, Miss C. Raphael. Whereas on complaint of Luke Hill in behalf of her Magesty yt. now is agt. Grace Sherrwood for a peson suspected of withcraft & having had sundey: evidences sworne agt: her proving many cercumstances & which she could not make any excuse or little or nothing to say in her own behalf only seemed to rely on wt. ye. Court should doe & thereupon consented to be tryed in ye. water & likewise to be serched againe wth. experimts: being tryed & she swiming Wn. therein & bound contrary to custom & ye. Judgts. of all the spectators & afterwards being serched by ffive antient weamen who have all declared on oath yt. she is not like ym: nor noe other woman yt. they knew of having two things like titts on her private parts of a Black coller being blacker yn: ye: rest of her body all wth: cercumstance ye. Court weighing in their consideracon doe therefore ordr. yt. ye. Sherr: take ye. sd. Grace into his costody & to comit her body to ye. common Joal of this County their to secure her by irons or otherwise there to remain till such time as he shall be otherwise directed in ordr. for her coming to ye. common goal of ye: Countey to be brought to a ffuture tryall there. "Our proposition to the Cherokee chiefs to visit Congress, for the purpose of preventing or delaying a rupture with that nation, was too late. The storm had gathered to a head when Major Martin (the agent) had got back. It was determined, therefore, to carry the war into their country, rather than wait it in ours; and I have it in my power to inform you that, thus disagreeably circumstanced, the issue has been successful. I enclose the particulars as reported to me." Col. Arthur Campbell's report to Mr. Jefferson is dated Washington county, Jan. 15, 1781. "The militia (he says) of this and the two western North Carolina counties (now Tennessee) have been fortunate enough to frustrate the designs of the Cherokees. On my reaching the frontiers, I found the Indians meant to annoy us by small parties. To resist them effectually, the apparently best measure was to transfer the war without delay into their own borders. "York county October ye 26th, 1696. I promise to give five pounds sterling towards building the cott. house at Yorké Town, and twenty pounds sterl'g if within two years they build a brick church att the same towne. As witness my hand ye day and year above written.
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3Author:  Smithey Royall Bascom 1851-Requires cookie*
 Title:  History of Virginia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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4Author:  Howison Robert R. (Robert Reid) 1820-1906Requires cookie*
 Title:  A history of Virginia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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5Author:  Howison Robert R. (Robert Reid) 1820-1906Requires cookie*
 Title:  A history of Virginia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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6Author:  unknownRequires cookie*
 Title:  Studies in bibliography  
 Published:  2007 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: At the opening panel of the 2001 conference of the Society for Textual Scholarship, some interesting remarks about copy-text were delivered by John Unsworth, a member of the Modern Language Association's Committee on Scholarly Editions (CSE). Unsworth said that he had originally planned to tell his audience that "the Greg-Bowers theory of editing" or "copy-text theory" had once enjoyed "hegemony within the CSE," but no longer did, owing to challenges from outside the Greg-Bowers school, where the focus was on other "periods, languages, and editorial circumstances." Unsworth submitted this thesis to Robert H. Hirst, the chair of the CSE at the time, for his thoughts, and reported receiving the following reply:
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7Author:  Alcott Louisa May 1832-1888Requires cookie*
 Title:  Moods  
 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: The room fronted the west, but a black cloud, barred with red, robbed the hour of twilight's tranquil charm. Shadows haunted it, lurking in corners like spies set there to watch the man who stood among them mute and motionless as if himself a shadow. His eye turned often to the window with a glance both vigilant and eager, yet saw nothing but a tropical luxuriance of foliage scarcely stirred by the sultry air heavy with odors that seemed to oppress not refresh. He listened with the same intentness, yet heard only the clamor of voices, the tramp of feet, the chime of bells, the varied turmoil of a city when night is defrauded of its peace by being turned to day. He watched and waited for something; presently it came. A viewless visitant, welcomed by longing soul and body as the man, with extended arms and parted lips received the voiceless greeting of the breeze that came winging its way across the broad Atlantic, full of healthful cheer for a home-sick heart. Far out he leaned; held back the thick-leaved boughs already rustling with a grateful stir, chid the shrill bird beating its flame-colored breast against its prison bars, and drank deep draughts of the blessed wind that seemed to cool the fever of his blood and give him back the vigor he had lost.
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8Author:  Alcott Louisa May 1832-1888Requires cookie*
 Title:  Work  
 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: “AUNT BETSEY, there 's going to be a new Declaration of Independence.”
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9Author:  Aldrich Thomas Bailey 1836-1907Requires cookie*
 Title:  Marjorie Daw, and other people  
 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: Letter received. Dillon be hanged. I think I ought to be on the ground. Stay where you are. You would only com-plicate matters. Do not move until you hear from me. My being at The Pines could be kept secret. I must see her. Do not think of it. It would be useless. R. W. D. has locked M. in her room. You would not be able to effect an interview. Locked her in her room. Good God. That settles the question. I shall leave by the twelve-fifteen express. Mr Van Twiller Dear Sir — i am verry great-full to you for that Bracelett. it come just in the nic of time for me. The Mademoiselle Zabriski dodg is about plaid out. My beard is getting to much for me. i shall have to grow a mustash and take to some other line of busyness, i dont no what now, but will let you no. You wont feel bad if i sell that Bracelett. i have seen Abrahams Moss and he says he will do the square thing. Pleas accep my thanks for youre Beautiful and Unexpected present.
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10Author:  Aldrich Thomas 1836-1907Requires cookie*
 Title:  Prudence Palfrey  
 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: Parson Wibird Hawkins was in trouble. The trouble was not of a pecuniary nature, for the good man had not only laid up treasures in heaven, but had kept a temporal eye on the fluctuations of real estate in Rivermouth, and was the owner of three or four of the nicest houses in Hollyhock Row. Nor was his trouble of a domestic nature, whatever it once might have been, for Mrs. Wibird Hawkins was dead this quarter of a century. Nor was it of the kind that sometimes befalls too susceptible shepherds, for the parson had reached an age when the prettiest of his flock might have frisked about him without stirring a pulse. You will probably be surprised to receive a letter from me after all these months of silence,—or, rather, years, for it is nearly three years, is n't it, since we parted? I have been in no mood or condition to write before, and I write now only because I may not have another chance to relieve you of any uncertainty you may feel on my account. I have thought it my duty to do this since I came to the resolve, within a few days, to give up my hopeless pursuits here and go into the army. If you do not hear from me or of me in the course of four or six months, you will know that my bad luck, which began in Montana, has culminated somewhere in the South. Then you can show this to my Uncle Dent, or even before, if you wish; I leave it to your discretion. Perhaps I shall do something in the war; who knows? It is time for me to do something. I am a failure up to date. I'm not sure I am a brave man, but I have that disregard for life which well fits me to lead forlorn-hopes,—and I've led many a forlorn-hope these past three years, Joe. Place the balance due me on account, and the six U. S. bonds you hold for me, to the credit and subject to the order of Colonel Peyton Todhunter. Go to Chicago instantly. Draw funds from Rawlings. Will join you at 6666. You have failed. He is here. Has Colonel Todhunter drawn the funds described in the despatch of yesterday? If not, stop payment until further advices.
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11Author:  Austin Jane G. (Jane Goodwin) 1831-1894Requires cookie*
 Title:  Dora Darling  
 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: “Hi! Dat good un! Bully for de 'federates, dis chile say. Dey's showed deyse'fs out now! Cut um stick in de night, eh, an' put! Jes' like de wicked flea in de Bible dat no one wan't a tryin' fer to cotch. Golly, I wish I'd got de rebel flea 'tween dis yer finger an' fum! Wouldn' I crack um 'bout de shortes'? An' de Yankees got dar umformation from a 'telligent conterban', did dey? Wish't I know'd dat 'telligent feller! I'd like 'o shake um paw, an' gib um a chaw ob ole Varginny for de sarvice he done to ebery nigger in de Souf w'en he help de Yankees. Wish't I was in his brogans, — reckon dey wouldn' fin' no 'telligenter nor no willin'er conterban' dan ole Pic ud make ef he got de chance fer ter show um sentermen's; but de trouble wid dis yer nigger is, him candle's got a bushel basket atop ob um, an' de Bible hese'f say dat dat ar' ain't no kin' ob a fashion. Bud ef de Yankees 'ud come an' kick off de ole basket—golly, what a confurgation o' smartness 'ud bust on dey eyesight!” “Dear Dora: I'm going further South with my regiment. I have been sick, and am not very well now, and don't believe I will ever come back. I'd like ever so much to see you before I go, more especially because I think I never will see you again. I darsn't come inside the pickets, but this fellow will bring you to me to-night, if you'll come. Do come, for I want to see you badly. “And now, Mr. Brown, I am going to tell you something so surprising, that I can hardly believe it myself. Only think of Captain Karl's mother being my own dear mother's sister, the very aunt Lucy that I have so long wanted to find! And only think, too, that Charlie (that's what we call Captain Karl almost always here) knew all the time, or suspected, at least; because, when he wrote to his mother about me, and said my name was Dora Darling, she wrote back word that her sister married a man named Darley, and told him to inquire if it wasn't the same name. Then he took up my little Bible one day, when I had been reading to him, and saw mother's name, `Mary Lee,' written in it; and his own mother's name was Lucy Lee; so he knew then right off. But he made believe to his mother that he didn't know; and he never said a word to me; but he says, if I had concluded not to go with him, he should have told me, though he didn't want to, because he wanted to surprise us both.
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12Author:  Sedgwick Catharine Maria 1789-1867Requires cookie*
 Title:  A New England tale, and Miscellanies  
 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: “In returning to my lodgings, late last evening, I was accosted by a man, muffled in a cloak. I recognised his voice at once. It was our unfortunate townsman, Wilson. He has succeeded à merveille in an ingenious plan of escape from durance, and sails in the morning for one of the West India islands, where he will, no doubt, make his debut as pirate, or in some other character, for which his training has equally qualified him. A precious rascal he is indeed; but, allow me a phrase of your fraternity, sir, I had no light to give him up to justice, after he had trusted to me; and more than that, for he informs me, that he had, since his confinement, written to the Woodhulls to engage me as counsel, and through them he learnt the fact of my being in this city. This bound me, in some sort, to look upon the poor devil as my client; and, as it would have been my duty to get him out of the clutches of the law, it would have been most ungracious to have put him into them, you know, since his own cleverness, instead of mine, has extricated him. He has explained to me, and he informs me has communicated to you, (for he says he cannot trust his mother to make them public,) the particulars of the sequestration of the old woman's money. I think Miss Elton never imparted to you the event that led to the sudden engagement, from which she has chosen to absolve me; and you have yet to learn, that there is generosity, disinterestedness in the world, that may rival the virtue which reposes under the shadow of the broad-brim. But, your pardon. I have wiped out all scores. The reception I have met with in this finest of cities, has been such as to make me look upon the incidents of an obscure village as mere bagatelles, not worthy of a sigh from one who can bask in the broad sunshine of ladies' favour and fortune's gifts. One word more, en passant, of Wilson's explanations. I rejoice in it sincerely, on Miss Elton's account. She deserved to have suffered a little for her childishness in holding herself bound by an exacted promise, for having put herself in a situation in which her guilt would have seemed apparent to any one but a poor dog whom love had hoodwinked—pro tempore. She is too young and too beautiful a victim for the altar of conscience. However, I forgive her, her scruples, her fanaticism, and her cruelties; and wish her all happiness in this world and the next, advising her not to turn anchorite here, for the sake of advancement there. “Mr. Allen came home three weeks ago, and said it was not sure you would be a colonel; but Mr. Oakley saw it in the paper, yesterday, that you are one, and I hurraed and hurraed till my little mother said I should make her deaf. And mother dressed up, and put the blue ribbon you sent her, round her neck, and looked so beautiful; Mr. Oakley said the ribbon was just a match for her eyes, and then such a rosy colour came into her cheeks. “Dear and Honoured Husband:—Your `little wifie' (I am glad you still call me so) thanks you from the bottom of her heart for your long letters. How kind of you, after your long days' marches, and your hard, hard work, to sit up at night to write to us, and especially to me, who am but a poor and short letter-writer myself. Oh, my dear heart, when will this tedious war be over, and you be at home again? Not that every thing does not go on very well. Dear sister Sylvy sees to every thing, does every thing. I am a poor thriftless wife to you, and I am afraid I shall not even be a mere ornamental piece of furniture—a `jim crack' of William Freeman's (as you remember who, called me), if you do not soon come home. I am getting thinner and thinner, and you will have to put on your spectacles (I cannot believe you wear spectacles!) to see me. “Dear and Respected Brother:—Your letter was duly received two weeks after date. I thank you for its approving words; also for your profitable advice, concerning the farm, stock, and so forth, which shall—the Lord willing—be attended to. “My dear Sir—Family afflictions compel me to resign my commission. With ardent prayers for my country—all I can now give her— “My dear Sir—I have just succeeded to the possession of an immense fortune, and hasten to offer you the only reparation in my power for a wrong deeply regretted by— Yours with sentiments of immeasurable respect— “I am clean discouraged. It seems as if Providence crowded on me. There is black disappointment, turn which way I will. I have had an offer to go to Orleans, and part pay beforehand, which same I send you herewith. Ellen read—“Mrs. O'Roorke,—You have been a kind friend to me, and I thank you; and give you, in token of my gratitude, all that I have in this room. My clothes please give to Ellen, and the purse with the two dollars, in the corner of the drawer, to Pat. With many thanks from me,
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13Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Requires cookie*
 Title:  The league of the Miami  
 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: Whoever has attempted to trace through its various windings, or plunge into and divine the mysteries of that mysterious, inexplicable thing, the human heart, has ever found himself perplexed—lost in a mazy bewilderment. Well sung one of England's greatest poets, “The proper study of mankind is man,” for man is a strange, strange being; his life is a medley of inconsistencies—his heart a labyrinth of good and evil. There is in our nature a propensity, a desire for concealment, which may be termed somewhat hypocritical, and which gives the outward, and the inward man, two strong contrasting aspects. Were it not for this, we should not see the gentle smile upon the surface, while the death-worm was gnawing at the core. We should not be daily told that such an one is happy, such an one enjoys all the beauties of life, while he, or she, is looking forward to the cold and silent tomb to end the misery of a life of woe. Why is this? Why do we seek to seem other than we feel— than we are? Ah, there is the mystery. That it is so, none will deny. Were it not for this—were our features the index of our thoughts—where would be the sacredness of grief? or the holy charm of love? And is not one sacred to us? Does not the other seem holy in our eyes? Do we not hoard them in our heart of hearts, as the miser hoards his treasures from the gaze of the world? And do we not, like him, feel a secret pleasure in brooding over them in silence, alone? Could we not do this—did the world know us as we know ourselves—not all the terrors of death, not all the terrors of a great hereafter, would be sufficient to hinder thousands from rashly plunging into the mystic, UNKNOWN BEYOND! In this do we not behold an All-wise ordering? Madam:—When this reaches you, I shall probably be no more. I believe that we are often warned of our approaching dissolution, and I feel that mine is near at hand. What my end will be, God only knows; yet, while I contemplate and write, I shudder. Seven years ago, I placed in your charge Cicely Edgerton—”
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14Author:  Bierce Ambrose 1842-1914?Requires cookie*
 Title:  The fiend's delight  
 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 
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15Author:  Ward Artemus 1834-1867Requires cookie*
 Title:  Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic illustrations  
 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: Sir—I'm movin along—slowly along—down tords your place. I want you should rite me a letter, sayin how is the show bizniss in your place. My show at present consists of three moral Bares, a Kangaroo (a amoozin little Raskal—t'would make you larf yerself to deth to see the little cuss jump up and squeal) wax figgers of G. Washington Gen. Tayler John Bunyan Capt. Kidd and Dr. Webster in the act of killin Dr. Parkman, besides several miscellanyus moral wax statoots of celebrated piruts & murderers, &c., ekalled by few & exceld by none. Now Mr. Editor, scratch orf a few lines sayin how is the show bizniss down to your place. I shall hav my hanbills dun at your offiss. Depend upon it. I want you should git my hanbills up in flamin stile. Also git up a tremenjus excitemunt in yr. paper 'bowt my onparaleld Show. We must fetch the public sumhow. We must wurk on their feelins. Cum the moral on 'em strong. If it's a temprance community tell 'em I sined the pledge fifteen minits arter Ise born, but on the contery ef your peple take their tods, say Mister Ward is as Jenial a feller as we ever met, full of conwiviality, & the life an sole of the Soshul Bored. Take, don't you? If you say anythin abowt my show say my snaiks is as harmliss as the new born Babe. What a interestin study it is to see a zewological animil like a snaik under perfeck subjecshun! My kangaroo is the most larfable little cuss I ever saw. All for 15 cents. I am anxyus to skewer your infloounce. I repeet in regard to them hanbills that I shall git 'em struck orf up to your printin office. My perlitercal sentiments agree with yourn exackly. I know thay do, becawz I never saw a man whoos didn't.
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16Author:  Ward Artemus 1834-1867Requires cookie*
 Title:  Artemus Ward  
 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 have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 5th inst., in which you invite me to deliver an address before your excellent agricultural society. My friend Mr. D. T. T. Moore, of the Rural New Yorker, thinks if I “keep on” I will get in the Poor House in about two years.
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17Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Requires cookie*
 Title:  Clovernook, or, Recollections of our neighborhood in the West  
 Published:  2002 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Change is the order of nature; the old makes way for the new; over the perished growth of the last year brighten the blossoms of this. What changes are to be counted, even in a little noiseless life like mine! How many graves have grown green; how many locks have grown gray; how many, lately young, and strong in hope and courage, are faltering and fainting; how many hands that reached eagerly for the roses are drawn back bleeding and full of thorns; and, saddest of all, how many hearts are broken! I remember when I had no sad memory, when I first made room in my bosom for the consciousness of death. How—like striking out from a wilderness of dew-wet blossoms where the shimmer of the light is lovely as the wings of a thousand bees, into an open plain where the clear day strips things to their natural truth—we go from young visions to the realities of life! “Dearest Annie,—I am sitting in a pleasant little room in the Academy; for, you must know, I am become a student. Before me is a table, covered with books, papers, and manuscripts, finished and unfinished. The fire is burning brightly in the grate, and I am content—almost happy. But to whom am I indebted for all this happiness? Ah, Annie! that little package you gave me at parting! How shall I ever repay you? I will not trouble you now by relating my hard experience for two months after leaving you; for, during that time, I did not unseal the package, which I looked at daily, wondering what it could contain, and pleasing myself with various conjectures. At last, one night, I opened it, and, to my joy and sorrow, discovered its contents to be what only the most adverse fortune could have compelled me to avail myself of. But, with a sense of humiliation, I did make use of your self-sacrificing generosity. Dear Annie! what do I not owe to you? I still keep the envelope; and, when I return, I intend to bring you the precise amount, as a bridal present, which you have so kindly, so considerately bestowed on me. Close application, this session, will enable me to teach for a part of the time; so that hereafter I shall be able to rely on myself. I have some glorious plans for the future, but none, Annie, disconnected with you. Every exertion that is made, shall be with reference to the future that must be ours. And do you think of me often? or ever? Ah, I will not wrong you by the inquiry! I know you do. Well, hope on. Time, faith, and energy, will do for us every thing. And is Mary the same merry-hearted girl? I hope so. For my sake, tell her she must love you very kindly. And Samuel—does he miss me, or ever speak of me? He will find some memento, I think, that may serve to remind him of me, in that cabinet of curiosities, the cider-mill. As for Mr. Joseph Heaton, I have no doubt but that he has `kept out of jail.' Forgive me, Annie, that there are persons whose wrongs I can not quite forget. I was greatly edified last Sabbath by a discourse on forgiveness. The clergyman, young and handsome—Mary, I think, would have fallen in love with him—spoke with an earnestness indicating a conviction of the truth of his doctrine, which was, that we are no where in the Scriptures required to forgive our enemies. Even Christ, he said, only prayed for his enemies, inasmuch as they were ignorant: `Forgive them, for they know not what they do.' This idea was curious, and to me new; and I suffered my mind to be relieved, without inquiring very deeply into the theology. Forgive this little episode. I did not intend it, but know that I shall not feel myself bound to forgive you in this world or the next, if you forget to love me. It is night—late—and I must close—not to save candles, Annie, but that some sleep is necessary. I shall perhaps dream of you.” Dear Sir: In compliance with a resolution of the Board of Trustees of the Lancaster School Society, of this city, we have examined, with as much care as the time allowed would permit us to bestow, the series of Grammatic Readers (Nos. I., II., and III.), of Mr. Edward Hazen; and, from such examination, are enabled to say, that the series is well adapted to attain the object Mr. Hazen has had in view in its preparation, viz.: that of enabling the scholar to understand the English language while learning to read it. Dear Sir: We have briefly examined Hazen's Grammatic Readers (Nos. I. and II.), which you kindly presented to us, and believe that they are well calculated for the object which the author has in view. There can be no doubt that children will learn more rapidly a correct pronunciation of words, arranged according to this system, than they will in many of the books which we have in our schools. And there can be no reason why the first principles of grammar may not be taught at the same time that the scholar is learning to read. In short, we think the work worthy of the notice of the friends of popular education.
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18Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Requires cookie*
 Title:  Clovernook, or, Recollections of our neighborhood in the West  
 Published:  2002 
 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 do not suffer our minds to dwell sufficiently on the past. Though now and then there is one who thinks it wise to talk with the hours that are gone, and ask them what report they bore to Heaven, this sort of communion is for the most part imposed as a duty and not felt to be a delight.
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19Author:  Child Lydia Maria Francis 1802-1880Requires cookie*
 Title:  A romance of the republic  
 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: “Dearly Beloved,—I am so happy that I cannot wait a minute without telling you about it. I have done a naughty thing, but, as it is the first time I ever disobeyed you, I hope you will forgive me. You told me never to go to the plantation without you. But I waited and waited, and you did n't come; and we were so happy there, that lovely day, that I longed to go again. I knew it would be very lonesome without you; but I thought it would be some comfort to see again the places where we walked together, and sang together, and called each other all manner of foolish fond names. Do you remember how many variations you rung upon my name, — Rosabella, Rosalinda, Rosamunda, Rosa Regina? How you did pelt me with roses! Do you remember how happy we were in the garden bower? How we sang together the old-fashioned canzonet, `Love in thine eyes forever plays'? And how the mocking-bird imitated your guitar, while you were singing the Don Giovanni serenade? “Dear Sir, — If you can spare an hour this evening to talk with me on a subject of importance, you will greatly oblige yours, “Dearest and best Friends,—It would take days to explain to you all that has happened since I wrote you that long, happy letter; and at present I have not strength to write much. When we meet we will talk about it more fully, though I wish to avoid the miserable particulars as far as possible. The preparations I so foolishly supposed were being made for me were for a rich Northern bride,—a pretty, innocent-looking little creature. The marriage with me, it seems, was counterfeit. When I discovered it, my first impulse was to fly to you. But a strange illness came over me, and I was oblivious of everything for four months. My good Tulee and a black woman named Chloe brought me back to life by their patient nursing. I suppose it was wrong, but when I remembered who and what I was, I felt sorry they did n't let me go. I was again seized with a longing to fly to you, who were as father and mother to me and my darling little sister in the days of our first misfortune. But I was too weak to move, and I am still far from being able to bear the fatigue of such a journey. Moreover, I am fastened here for the present by another consideration. Mr. Fitzgerald says he bought us of papa's creditors, and that I am his slave. I have entreated him, for the sake of our unborn child, to manumit me, and he has promised to do it. If I could only be safe in New Orleans, it is my wish to come and live with you, and find some way to support myself and my child. But I could have no peace, so long as there was the remotest possibility of being claimed as slaves. Mr. Fitzgerald may not mean that I shall ever come to harm; but he may die without providing against it, as poor papa did. I don't know what forms are necessary for my safety. I don't understand how it is that there is no law to protect a defenceless woman, who has done no wrong. I will wait here a little longer to recruit my strength and have this matter settled. I wish it were possible for you, my dear, good mother, to come to me for two or three weeks in June; then perhaps you could take back with you your poor Rosa and her baby, if their lives should be spared. But if you cannot come, there is an experienced old negress here, called Granny Nan, who, Tulee says, will take good care of me. I thank you for you sympathizing, loving letter. Who could papa's friend be that left me a legacy? I was thankful for the fifty dollars, for it is very unpleasant to me to use any of Mr. Fitzgerald's money, though he tells Tom to supply everything I want. If it were not for you, dear friends, I don't think I should have courage to try to live. But something sustains me wonderfully through these dreadful trials. Sometimes I think poor Chloe's prayers bring me help from above; for the good soul is always praying for me.
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20Author:  Twain Mark 1835-1910Requires cookie*
 Title:  The celebrated jumping frog of Calaveras County  
 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: IN compliance with the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the East, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired after my friend's friend, Leonidas W. Smiley, as requested to do, and I hereunto append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth; that my friend never knew such a personage; and that he only conjectured that, if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley, and he would go to work and bore me nearly to death with some infernal reminiscence of him as long and tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it certainly succeeded. “Dear Mark: We spent the evening very pleasantly at home yesterday. The Rev. Dr. Macklin and wife, from Peoria, were here. He is an humble laborer in the vineyard, and takes his coffee strong. He is also subject to neuralgia—neuralgia in the head—and is so unassuming and prayerful. There are few such men We had soup for dinner likewise. Although I am not fond of it. O Mark! why don't you try to lead a better life? Read II. Kings, from chap. 2 to chap. 24 inclusive. It would be so gratifying to me if you would experience a change of heart. Poor Mrs. Gabrick is dead. You did not know her. She had fits, poor soul. On the 14th the entire army took up the line of march from—” “Uncle Mark, if you was here, I could tell you about Moses in the Bulrushers again, I know it better now. Mr. Sowerby has got his leg broke off a horse. He was riding it on Sunday. Margaret, that's the maid, Margaret has took all the spittoons, and slop-buckets, and old jugs out of your room, because she says she don't think you're ever coming back any more, you been gone so long. Sissy McElroy's mother has got another little baby. She has them all the time. It has got little blue eyes, like Mr. Swimley that boards there, and looks just like him. I have got a new doll, but Johnny Anderson pulled one of its legs out. Miss Doosenberry was here to-day; I give her your picture, but she said she didn't want it. My cat has got more kittens—oh! you can't think — twice as many as Lottie Belden's. And there's one, such a sweet little buff one with a short tail, and I named it for you. All of them's got names now—General Grant, and Halleck, and Moses, and Margaret, and Deuteronomy, and Captain Semmes, and Exodus, and Leviticus, and Horace Greeley—all named but one, and I am saving it because the one that I named for You's been sick all the time since, and I reckon it'll die. [It appears to have been mighty rough on the short-tailed kitten, naming it for me—I wonder how the reserved victim will stand it.] Uncle Mark, I do believe Hattie Caldwell likes you, and I know she thinks you are pretty, because I heard her say nothing couldn't hurt your good looks—nothing at all—she said, even if you was to have the small-pox ever so bad, you would be just as good-looking as you was before. And my ma says she's ever so smart. [Very.] So no more this time, because General Grant and Moses is fighting. To Mr. Mark Twain: The within parson, which I have sot to poettry under the name and style of “He Done His Level Best,” was one among the whitest men I ever see, and it an't every man that knowed him that can find it in his heart to say he's glad the poor cuss is busted and gone home to the States. He was here in an early day, and he was the handyest man about takin' holt of any thing that come along you most ever see, I judge. He was a cheerful, stirrin' cretur', always doin' something, and no man can say he ever see him do any thing by halvers. Preachin' was his nateral gait, but he warn't a man to lay back and twidle his thums because there didn't happen to be nothin' doin' in his own espeshial line—no, sir, he was a man who would meander forth and stir up something for hisself. His last acts was to go his pile on “kings-and,” (calklatin' to fill, but which he didn't fill,) when there was a “flush” out agin him, and naterally, you see, he went under. And so he was cleaned out, as you may say, and he struck the home-trail, cheerful but flat broke. I knowed this talonted man in Arkansaw, and if you would print this humbly tribute to his gorgis abillities, you would greatly obleege his onhappy friend. “St. Clair Higgins,” Los Angeles.—“My life is a failure; I have adored, wildly, madly, and she whom I love has turned coldly from me and shed her affections upon another. What would you advise me to do?” “Arithmeticus,” Virginia, Nevada.—“If it would take a cannon ball 3⅓ seconds to travel four miles, and 3⅜ seconds to travel the next four, and 3⅝ seconds to travel the next four, and if its rate of progress continued to diminish in the same ratio, how long would it take it to go fifteen hundred millions of miles?” “Discarded Lover.”—“I loved, and still love, the beautiful Edwitha Howard, and intended to marry her. Yet, during my temporary absence at Benicia, last week, alas! she married Jones. Is my happiness to be thus blasted for life? Have I no redress?” “Arithmeticus,” Virginia, Nevada.—“I am an enthusiastic student of mathematics, and it is so vexatious to me to find my progress constantly impeded by these mysterious arithmetical technicalities. Now do tell me what the difference is between geometry and conchology?” Distressing Accident.—Last evening about 6 o'clock, as Mr. William Schuyler, an old and respectable citizen of South Park, was leaving his residence to go down town, as has been his usual custom for many years, with the exception only of a short interval in the spring of 1850, during which he was confined to his bed by injuries received in attempting to stop a runaway horse by thoughtlessly placing himself directly in its wake and throwing up his hands and shouting, which, if he had done so even a single moment sooner, must inevitably have frightened the animal still more instead of checking its speed, although disastrous enough to himself as it was, and rendered more melancholy and distressing by reason of the presence of his wife's mother, who was there and saw the sad occurrence, notwithstanding it is at least likely, though not necessarily so, that she should be reconnoitering in another direction when incidents occur, not being vivacious and on the lookout, as a general thing, but even the reverse, as her own mother is said to have stated, who is no more, but died in the full hope of a glorious resurrection, upwards of three years ago, aged 86, being a Christian woman and without guile, as it were, or property, in consequence of the fire of 1849, which destroyed every blasted thing she had in the world. But such is life. Let us all take warning by this solemn occurrence, and let us endeavor so to conduct ourselves that when we come to die we can do it. Let us place our hands upon our hearts, and say with earnestness and sincerity that from this day forth we will beware of the intoxicating bowl.—First Edition of the Californian. “Dear Sir: My object in writing to you is to have you give me a full history of Nevada. What is the character of its climate? What are the productions of the earth? Is it healthy? What diseases do they die of mostly? Do you think it would be advisable for a man who can make a living in Missouri to emigrate to that part of the country? There are several of us who would emigrate there in the spring if we could ascertain to a certainty that it is a much better country than this. I suppose you know Joel H. Smith? He used to live here; he lives in Nevada now; they say he owns considerable in a mine there. Hoping to hear from you soon, etc., I remain yours, truly, Dearest William: Pardon my familiarity —but that name touchingly reminds me of the loved and lost, whose name was similar. I have taken the contract to answer your letter, and although we are now strangers, I feel we shall cease to be so if we ever become acquainted with each other. The thought is worthy of attention, William. I will now respond to your several propositions in the order in which you have fulminated them.
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