| | 124 | Author: | Poe
Edgar Allan
1809-1849 | Add | | | Title: | Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque  | | | | 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: | Antiochus Epiphanes is very generally looked
upon as the Gog of the prophet Ezekiel. This honor
is, however, more properly attributable to Cambyses,
the son of Cyrus. And, indeed, the character of the
Syrian monarch does by no means stand in need of
any adventitious embollishment. His accession to
the throne, or rather his usurpation of the sovereignty,
a hundred and seventy-one years before the coming
of Christ—his attempt to plunder the temple of
Diana at Ephesus—his implacable hostility to the
Jews—his pollution of the Holy of Holies, and his
miserable death at Taba, after a tumultuous reign of
eleven years, are circumstances of a prominent kind,
and therefore more generally noticed by the historians
of his time than the impious, dastardly, cruel,
silly, and whimsical achievements which make up
the sum total of his private life and reputation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 125 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Add | | | Title: | A New-england Tale, Or, Sketches of New-england Character and Manners | | | | 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: | Mr. Elton was formerly a flourishing trader,
or, in country phrase, a merchant, in the village
of—. In the early part of his life he had
been successful in business; and having a due portion
of that mean pride which is gratified by pecuniary
superiority, he was careful to appear quite
as rich as he was. When he was at the top of
fortune's wheel, some of his prying neighbours
shrewdly suspected, that the show of his wealth
was quite out of proportion to the reality; and
their side glances and prophetic whispers betrayed
their contempt of the offensive airs of the
purse-proud man. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 127 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Beauchampe, Or, the Kentucky Tragedy | | | | 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: | The stormy and rugged winds of March were overblown—the
first fresh smiling days of April had come at
last—the days of sunshine and shower, of fitful breezes,
the breath of blossoms, and the newly awakened song of
birds. Spring was there in all the green and glory of her
youth, and the bosom of Kentucky heaved with the prolific
burden of the season. She had come, and her messengers
were every where, and every where busy. The birds bore
her gladsome tidings to
“Alley green,
Dingle or bushy dell of each wild wood,
And every bosky bourn from side to side—”
nor were the lately trodden and seared grasses of the forests
left unnoted; and the humbled flower of the wayside
sprang up at her summons. Like some loyal and devoted
people, gathered to hail the approach of a long exiled and
well-beloved sovereign, they crowded upon the path over
which she came, and yielded themselves with gladness at
her feet. The mingled songs and sounds of their rejoicing
might be heard, and far off murmurs of gratulation, rising
from the distant hollows, or coming faintly over the hill
tops, in accents not the less pleasing because they were the
less distinct. That lovely presence which makes every
land blossom and every living thing rejoice, met, in the
happy region in which we meet her now, a double tribute
of honour and rejoicing. The “dark and bloody ground,”
by which mournful epithets Kentucky was originally
known to the Anglo-American, was dark and bloody no
longer. The savage had disappeared from its green forests
for ever, and no longer profaned with slaughter, and his
unholy whoop of death, its broad and beautiful abodes. A
newer race had succeeded; and the wilderness, fulfilling
the better destinies of earth, had begun to blossom like the
rose. Conquest had fenced in its sterile borders, with a
wall of fearless men, and peace slept every where in security
among its green recesses. Stirring industry—the
perpetual conqueror—made the woods resound with the
echoes of his biting axe and ringing hammer. Smiling villages
rose in cheerful white, in place of the crumbling and
smoky cabins of the hunter. High and becoming purposes
of social life and thoughtful enterprise superseded that
eating and painful decay, which has terminated in the
annihilation of the native man; and which, among every
people, must always result from their refusal to exercise,
according to the decree of experience, no less than Providence,
their limbs and sinews in tasks of well directed
and continual labour. A great nation urging on a sleepless
war against sloth and feebleness, is one of the noblest of
human spectacles. This warfare was rapidly and hourly
changing the monotony and dreary aspects of rock and
forest. Under the creative hands of art, temples of magnificence
rose where the pines had fallen. Long and lovely
vistas were opened through the dark and hitherto impervious
thickets. The city sprang up beside the river, while
hamlets, filled with active hope and cheerful industry,
crowded upon the verdant hill-side, and clustered among
innumerable valleys. Grace began to seek out the homes
of toil, and taste supplied their decorations. A purer form
of religion hallowed the forest homes of the red man,
while expelling for ever the rude divinities of his worship;
and throughout the land, an advent of moral loveliness
seemed approaching, not less grateful to the affections and
the mind, than was the beauty of the infant April, to the
eye and the heart of the wanderer. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 128 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Beauchampe, Or, the Kentucky Tragedy | | | | 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: | Having seen his enemy fairly mounted and under way,
as he thought, for Charlemont, Ned Hinkley returned to
Ellisland for his own horse. Here he did not suffer himself
to linger, though before he could succeed in taking
his departure, he was subjected to a very keen and searching
examination by the village publican and politician.
Having undergone this scrutiny with tolerable patience, if
not to the entire satisfaction of the examiner, he set forward
at a free canter, determined that his adversary should
not be compelled to wait. It was only while he rode that
he began to fancy the possibility of the other having taken
a different course; but as, upon reflection, he saw no
other plan, which he might have adopted—for lynching
for suspected offences was not yet a popular practice in and
about Charlemont,—he contented himself with the reflection
that he had done all that could have been done, and if
Alfred Stevens failed to keep his appointment, he, at least,
was one of the losers. He would necessarily lose the
chance of revenging an indignity, not to speak of the
equally serious loss of that enjoyment which a manly
fight usually gave to Ned Hinkley himself, and which, he
accordingly assumed, must be an equal gratification to all
other persons. When he arrived at Charlemont, he did
not make his arrival known, but repairing directly to the
lake among the hills, he hitched his horse, and prepared,
with what patience he could command, to await the coming
of the enemy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 129 | 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 |
| 132 | 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 |
| 133 | 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 |
| 134 | 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 |
| 135 | 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 |
| 137 | Author: | Cooper
James Fenimore
1789-1851 | Add | | | Title: | Precaution | | | | 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: | Although the affections of Jane had sustained
a heavy blow, her pride had received
a greater, and no persuasions of her mother
or sister, could induce her to leave her room;
she talked but little, but once or twice she
yielded to the affectionate attentions of Emily,
and poured out her sorrows into the bosom
of her sister; at such moments, she
would declare her intention of never appearing
in the world again. One of these paroxysms
of sorrow was witnessed by her mother,
and, for the first time, self-reproach mingled
in the grief of the matron; had she
trusted less to appearances, and the opinions
of indifferent and ill-judging acquaintances,
her daughter might have been apprised in
season, of the character of the man who had
stolen her affections. To the direct exhibition
of misery, Lady Moseley was always
sympathetic, and for the moment, alive to its
causes and consequences; but a timely and
judicious safeguard against future moral evils,
was a forecast neither her inactivity of mind
or abilities were equal to. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 138 | Author: | Cooper
James Fenimore
1789-1851 | Add | | | Title: | The Spy | | | | 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: | The officer to whose keeping Dunwoodie had
committed the pedlar, transferred his charge to
the custody of the regular sergeant of the guard.
The gift of Captain Wharton had not been lost on
the youthful lieutenant, and a certain dancing motion
that had unaccountably taken possession of
objects before his eyes, gave him warning of the
necessity of recruiting nature by sleep. After
admonishing the non-commissioned guardian of
Harvey to omit no watchfulness in securing the
prisoner, the youth wrapped himself in his cloak,
and, stretched on a bench before a fire, sought,
and soon found, the repose he needed. A rude
shed extended the whole length of the rear of the
building, and from off one of its ends had been
partitioned a small apartment, that was intended
as a repository for many of the lesser implements
of husbandry. The lawless times had, however,
occasoned its being stript of every thing of any
value, and the searching eyes of Betty Flannagan
selected this spot, on her arrival, as the store house
for her moveables, and a withdrawing-room for
her person. The spare arms and baggage of the
corps had also been deposited here; and the united
treasures were placed under the eye of the
sentinel who paraded the shed as guardian to the
rear of the head quarters. A second warrior,
who was stationed near the house to protect the
horses of the officers, could command a view of
the outside of the apartment, and as it was without
window, or outlet of any kind excepting its
door, the considerate sergeant thought this the
most befitting place in which to deposite his charge,
until the moment of his execution. There were
several inducements that urged Sergeant Hollister
to this determination, among which was the absence
of the washerwoman, who lay before the
kitchen fire, dreaming that the corps were attacking
a party of the enemy, and mistaking the noise
which proceeded from her own nose for the bugles
of the Virginians sounding the charge. Another
was the peculiar opinions that the veteran
entertained of life and death, and by which he
was distinguished in the corps as a man of most
exemplary piety and holiness of life. The sergeant
was more than fifty years of age, and for
half that period had borne arms as a profession.
The constant recurrence of sudden deaths before
his eyes had produced an effect on him differing
greatly from that, which was the usual moral consequence
of such scenes, and he had become not
only the most steady, but the most trust-worthy
soldier in his troop.—Captain Lawton had rewarded
his fidelity by making him its orderly. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 139 | Author: | Cooper
James Fenimore
1789-1851 | Add | | | Title: | The Pilot | | | | 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: | Each year causes some new and
melancholy chasm in what is now the brief
list of my naval friends and former associates.
War, disease, and the casualties
of a hazardous profession, have made fearful
inroads in the limited number; while
the places of the dead are supplied by
names that to me are strangers. With the
consequences of these sad changes before
me, I cherish the recollection of those with
whom I once lived in close familiarity with
peculiar interest, and feel a triumph in
their growing reputations, that is but little
short of their own honest pride. A single glance at the map will make the reader
acquainted with the position of the eastern coast
of the island of Great Britain, as connected
with the shores of the opposite continent. Together
they form the boundaries of the small
sea, that has for ages been known to the world
as the scene of maritime exploits, and as the
great avenue through which commerce and war
have conducted the fleets of the northern nations
of Europe. Over this sea the islanders long
asserted a jurisdiction, exceeding that which reason
concedes to any power on the highway of nations,
and which frequently led to conflicts that
caused an expenditure of blood and treasure, utterly
disproportioned to the advantages that can
ever arise from the maintenance of a useless and
abstract right. It is across the waters of this disputed
ocean that we shall attempt to conduct our
readers, in imagination, selecting a period for our
incidents that has peculiar interests for every
American, not only because it was the birth-day
of his nation, but because it was also the era when
reason and common sense began to take place of
custom and feudal practices in the management of
the affairs of nations. “Believing that Providence may conduct me
where we shall meet, or whence I may be able to
transmit to you this account, I have prepared a
short statement of the situation of Cecilia Howard
and myself; not, however, to urge you and
Griffith to any rash or foolish hazards, but that
you may both sit down, and, after due consultation,
determine on what is proper for our relief. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 140 | Author: | Cooper
James Fenimore
1789-1851 | Add | | | Title: | The Pilot | | | | 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: | As Griffith and his compantions rushed from
the offices of St. Ruth, into the open air, they
encountered no one to intercept their flight, or
communicate the alarm. Warned by the experience
of the earlier part of the same night, they
avoided the points where they knew the sentinels
were posted, though fully prepared to bear down
all resistance, and were soon beyond the probability
of immediate detection. They proceded,
for the distance of half a mile, with rapid strides,
and with the stern and sullen silence of men who
expected to encounter immediate danger, resolved
to breast it with desperate resolution; but, as
they plunged into a copse, that clustered around
the ruin which has already been mentioned, they
lessened their exertions to a more deliberate pace;
and a short but guarded dialogue ensued. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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