| | 182 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Errata, or, The works of Will. Adams  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | If there ever was a coward upon earth, I am one.
If God ever made a thing so contemptible, I was born
one. From my earliest recollection of myself, the
very name of death was frightful to me: and, when I
came to understand what it meant; and to see how it
fastened upon whatever I happened to love, so invisibly,
yet so fatally; how it altered whatever it touched, till
every body fled from it, even the mother from her babe;
how it affected the voices of men, when they spoke of it
—I began to feel—I hardly know how, toward it—it
was not as other children felt; not, as if death were a shadow,
or a power, the common enemy of our race—but,
I hated it with a bitterness and earnestness—and feared
it, with a fear, that kept my blood in a continual agitation—as
if it were a real, living creature; and my own
particular, deadly enemy. Nay, even now, with all
my experience, and discipline; notwithstanding all that
I have encountered, and suffered, in the hope of overcoming
this weakness of my nature; it is a fact, that the very
thought of death, when I am alone, is enough to
drive me distracted. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 183 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Errata, or, The works of Will. Adams | | | | 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: | One year; one whole year hath passed away, since I
finished the last chapter. This very evening completes
it. And even yet, my hand trembles, in taking
up the story again. I feel like one, who, having grown
old in sorrow and loneliness, is about to enter again, for
the first time, since the death of a beloved one,—the
apartment where she died.—How shall I bear it?—Is
there, do you believe, upon the wide earth, a man of
my age, so utterly desolate, as I, at this moment? I do
not believe that there is. I have loved, and been beloved,
truly and tenderly; very passionately too; and
devoutly, at times;—been blessed, beyond the lot of other
men—with the wife of my heart, and the babe of my
strength, beautiful as day, and good, as beautiful—but
where are they? Man, man! of what avail is all thy
sorrowing and humiliation!—thy penitence and contrition?
The curse of thy boyhood pursues thee! the shadow
of thy transgressions; and, where the good man
beholds but the visiting of God's own hand, in gentleness
and love, the wicked quake under it, as beneath
the unsparing retribution of one, that hath power, and
will not be appeased. “But for your sake, my dear Wallace, I should never
write to you another line. I had nearly come once to
the resolution, never to speak, nor think, nor write of
you again. You have been ill. I am sorry for it.—
But the worst illness that you have, is one, of which,
whatever be the consequences. I am determined to
speak plainly.—You want resolution, steadiness, and
resisting power. “I have perused your affectionate letter.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 184 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Randolph | | | | 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: | No, dear; you are mistaken in Molton. He is not the
abject creature that you believe. I have no proof to offer
you, it is true;—nothing but my bare word; and that
too, founded upon an interview of ten minutes. But, nevertheless,
I do entreat you to believe me; or, if that be too
much, Sarah, let me beg that you suspend your opinion
awhile, and not express it, to any human creature, until
you are assured that you are not wronging a noble nature.
I wish that you could have seen him, cousin, when I
handed your note to him. You would have given up all
your prejudices, I am sure, on the spot; nay—you would
have wept. As he read it, I saw a slight convulsion pass
over his broad forehead;—it contracted a little too, and
then, there was a quiet hectick; and his patient light blue
eyes flashed fire;—and, if I must tell the truth, there was
an angry fierceness in his look, for a single moment, that,
in spite of myself, made me tremble; but, when this was
followed, as it was, almost immediately, by a mortal
paleness, and a slow, calm movement of the arm and
hand, as he reached out the billet to me, it was really
appalling. It almost took my strength away. Such a
delicate creature,—so effeminate, and sickly!—it is unaccountable
to me, how his presence should so affect me. Mr. Ramsay died last evening, between ten and eleven,
with little pain, and in the full possession of his faculties.
His daughter is seriously indisposed; but she has
the best medical attention in the country; and her deportment
toward her father, during his short illness, has made
her many friends. Be assured, madam, that she shall want
for nothing. She wrote a note yesterday morning, and
gave it to me, with your address, requesting me, if the
event should be as we anticipated, to enclose it to you.
She took to her bed, immediately; or rather, we carried
her, by force, from the presence of her father, who commanded
it; and she is now delirious. Mr. Ramsay received
every attention and kindness, that he could have
received at home. A catholick clergyman, from Boston,
one of the most amiable and benevolent of men, was with
him all the time, during the last two days; and no human
being ever manifested more resignation, after he was
told that death was inevitable. At first, he was a good
deal agitated; yet, he told me, not an hour afterward,
that he knew he should die in my house, the first night
that he slept here. I laughed at the notion then, but it
was verified. He did die, in the very room, in the very
bed, and at the very hour which he had foretold. I have
had some experience in these things; and am willing to
attribute much to the imagination; but, when I see a sober,
sensible man, like him, yielding up to a belief that he
has seen a spirit---pardon me, madam, I am little inclined
to provoke a smile at such a moment; but, Mr. Ramsay,
not an hour before his death, told me, that his wife had
appeared to him, and summoned him. Was there any
thing remarkable in her death? I ask the question, from
some mysterious observations that I heard escape him,
in conversation with his daughter, respecting the matter,
when he was first taken ill. He told his physicians and
me, that nothing could save him; but, desired us not to
inform her. We tried all that we could, to divert his mind
from meditating on the subject. But all in vain. Even
medicine had no effect upon him. Can the mind counteract
such things?—neutralize our poisons—dilute and
dissipate the most corrosive, and fiery applications?—
Is that sympathy so vital, that the blood cannot be chilled,
where the mind is preternaturally heated? It was,
in his case. Blisters were applied. They came off, as
they went on. His skin had lost its sensibility. Purges
and emeticks were given. No effect was produced.
The stomach and bowels were impenetrable. Laudanum
followed; but, the only result was, a more mortal coldness
in the extremities; no sluggishness, no torpor;—
the blood, therefore, was beyond our dominion. It is
considered here, the most extraordinary case, within our
experience; but we are told that such things may be, in
the books; and our limited observation would seem to
confirm the position. Sudden fright, I have known to
produce death—and to restore drunken men. And the
sea-sickness, always ceases, when the danger of shipwreck
is imminent. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 185 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Randolph | | | | 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: | I have just arrived. My spirits are depressed; the
weather is gloomy, and I feel myself to be really and
truly alone, in a land of strangers. How will this adventure
end?—Would that I might rend away the dark
curtain, for a moment, and look into futurity. I might appalled--I
might; but, were it not better to have your senses
reel at once, and all your strength desert you; than to be
cheated, as I have been, year after year, with hope and disappointment?
What can I say to you? It is impossible that
I can have anything to write; yet, my heart is heavy with
thought and speculation. I promised to write, and,
therefore have I written. Let me hear from you directly.
I shall be impatient for your answer; for I feel as
a stranger here, even in my retirement. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 186 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Seventy-six | | | | 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: | Yes, my children, I will no longer delay it. We are
passing, one by one, from the place of contention, one
after another, to the grave; and, in a little time, you
may say—Our Fathers!—the men of the Revolution—
where are they?..... Yes, I will go about it, in
earnest: I will leave the record behind me, and when
there is nothing else to remind you of your father, and
your children's children, of their ancestor—nothing
else, to call up his apparition before you, that you may
see his aged and worn forehead—his white hair in the
wind... you will have but to open the book, that I
shall leave to you—and lay your right hand, devoutly,
upon the page. It will have been written in blood
and sweat, with prayer and weeping. But do that—
no matter when it is, generations may have passed
away—no matter where I am—my flesh and blood
may have returned to their original element, or taken
innumerable shapes of loveliness—my very soul may
be standing in the presence of the Most High—Yet
do ye this, and I will appear to you, instantly, in the
deepest and dimmest solitude of your memory!—
—Yes!—I will go about it, this very day...
And I do pray you and them, as they shall be born
successively of you, and yours, when all the family are
about their sanctuary, their own fire side—the holy
and comfortable place, to open the volume, and read it
aloud. Let it be in the depth of winter, if it may be,
when the labour of the year is over, and the heart is
rejoicing in its home—and when you are alone:—not
that I would frown upon the traveller, or blight the
warm hospitality of your nature, by reproof—but there
are some things, and some places, where the thought of
the stranger is intrusion, the touch and hearing of the
unknown man, little better than profanation. If you
love each other, you will not go abroad for consolation:
and if you are wise, you will preserve some
hidden, fountains of your heart, unvisited but by one
or two—the dearest and the best. This should be one
of them—I will have it so. I would not have your
feeling of holy, and solemn, and high enthusiasm,
broken in upon, by the unprepared, just when you have
been brought, perhaps, to travel in imagination, with
your father, barefooted, over the frozen ground, leaving
his blood at every step, as he went, desolate, famished,
sick, naked, almost broken hearted, and almost
alone, to fight the battles of your country. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 188 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Rachel Dyer | | | | 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 early history of New-England, or of Massachusetts
Bay, rather; now one of the six New-England
States of North America, and that on which the Plymouth
settlers, or “Fathers” went ashore—the shipwrecked
men of mighty age, abounds with proof that
witchcraft was a familiar study, and that witches and
wizards were believed in for a great while, among the
most enlightened part of a large and well-educated religious
population. The multitude of course had a like
faith; for such authority governs the multitude every
where, and at all times. “Reverend Gentlemen,—The innocency of our case, with the
enmity of our accusers and our judges and jury, whom nothing
but our innocent blood will serve, having condemned us
already before our trials, being so much incensed and enraged
against us by the devil, makes us bold to beg and implore your
favourable assistance of this our humble petition to his excellency,
that if it be possible our innocent blood may be spared,
which undoubtedly otherwise will be shed, if the Lord doth not
mercifully step in; the magistrates, ministers, juries, and all
the people in general, being so much enraged and incensed
against us by the delusion of the devil, which we can term no
other, by reason we know in our own consciences we are all
innocent persons. Here are five persons who have lately confessed
themselves to be witches, and do accuse some of us of
being along with them at a sacrament, since we were committed
into close prison, which we know to be lies. Two of the five
are (Carrier's sons) young men, who would not confess any
thing till they tied them neck and heels, till the blood was ready
to come out of their noses; and it is credibly believed and reported
this was the occasion of making them confess what they
never did, by reason they said one had been a witch a month,
and another five weeks, and that their mother had made them
so, who has been confined here this nine weeks. My son
William Proctor, when he was examined, because he would not
confess that he was guilty, when he was innocent, they tied him
neck and heels till the blood gushed out at his nose, and would
have kept him so twenty-four hours, if one, more merciful than
the rest, had not taken pity on him, and caused him to be unbound.
These actions are very like the popish cruelties. They
have already undone us in our estates, and that will not serve
their turns without our innocent blood. If it cannot be granted
that we have our trials at Boston, we humbly beg that you
would endeavor to have these magistrates changed, and others
in their rooms; begging also and beseeching you would be
pleased to be here, if not all, some of you, at our trials, hoping
thereby you may be the means of saving the shedding of innocent
blood. Desiring your prayers to the Lord in our behalf,
we rest your poor afflicted servants, “Being brought before the justices, her chief accusers were
two girls. My wife declared to the justices, that she never had
any knowledge of them before that day. She was forced to
stand with her arms stretched out. I requested that I might
old one of her hands, but it was denied me; then she desired
me to wipe the tears from her eyes, and the sweat from her
face, which I did; then she desired that she might lean herself
on me, saying she should faint. By the honourable the lieutenant governor, council and assembly
of his majesty's province of the Masachusetts-Bay, in
general court assembled. “Upon the day of the fast, in the full assembly at the south
meeting-house in Boston, one of the honorable judges, [the
chief justice Sewall] who had sat in judicature in Salem, delivered
in a paper, and while it was in reading stood up; but
the copy being not to be obtained at present, it can only be
reported by memory to this effect, viz. It was to desire the
prayers of God's people for him and his; and that God having
visited his family, &c, he was apprehensive that he might have
fallen into some errors in the matters at Salem, and pray that
the guilt of such miscarriages may not be imputed either to the
country in general, or to him or his family in particular. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 190 | Author: | Neal
Joseph C.
(Joseph Clay)
1807-1847 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Charcoal sketches, or, Scenes in a metropolis | | | | 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 said that poetry is on the decline, and that as man
surrounds himself with artificial comforts, and devotes
his energies to purposes of practical utility, the sphere of
imagination becomes circumscribed, and the worship of
the Muses is neglected. We are somewhat disposed to
assent to this conclusion; the more from having remarked
the fact that the true poetic temperament is not so frequently
met with as it was a few years since, and that
the outward marks of genius daily become more rare.
Where the indications no longer exist, or where they
gradually disappear, it is but fair to conclude that the
thing itself is perishing. There are, it is true, many delightful
versifiers at the present moment, but we fear that
though they display partial evidences of inspiration upon
paper, the scintillations are deceptive. Their conduct
seldom exhibits sufficient proof that they are touched
with the celestial fire, to justify the public in regarding
them as the genuine article. Judging from the rules
formerly considered absolute upon this point, it is altogether
preposterous for your happy, well-behaved, well-dressed,
smoothly-shaved gentleman, who pays his debts,
and submits quietly to the laws framed for the government
of the uninspired part of society, to arrogate to
himself a place in the first rank of the sons of genius,
whatever may be his merits with the gray goose quill.
There is something defective about him. The divine
afflatus has been denied, and though he may flap his
wings, and soar as high as the house-tops, no one can
think him capable of cleaving the clouds, and of playing
hide and seek among the stars. Even if he were to do
so, the spectator would either believe that his eyes deceived
him, or that the successful flight was accidental,
and owing rather to a temporary density of the atmosphere
than to a strength of pinion. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 193 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | John Bull in America, or, The new Munchausen | | | | 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: | Previous to my departure for the Western
paradise of liberty, my impressions with regard
to the country were, upon the whole, rather of a
favourable character. It is true, I did not believe
a word of the inflated accounts given by certain
French revolutionary travellers, such as Brissot,
Chastellux, and others; much less in those of Birkbeck,
Miss Wright, Captain Hall, and the rest of
the radical fry. I was too conversant with the
Quarterly Review, to be led astray by these Utopian
romancers, and felt pretty well satisfied that
the institutions of the country were altogether
barbarous. I also fully believed that the people
were a bundling, gouging, drinking, spitting, impious
race, without either morals, literature, religion,
or refinement; and that the turbulent spirit
of democracy was altogether incompatible with any
state of society becoming a civilized nation. Being
thus convinced that their situation was, for the present,
deplorable, and in the future entirely hopeless,
unless they presently relieved themselves
from the cumbrous load of liberty, under which
they groaned, I fell into a sort of compassion for
them, such as we feel for condemned criminals,
having no hope of respite, and no claim to benefit
of clergy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 194 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The merry tales of the three wise men of Gotham | | | | 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: | I was born, began the first Wise Man of Gotham,
in a country that I consider unworthy of my nativity,
and for that reason I shall do all in my
power to deprive it of the honour, by not mentioning
its name. I am, moreover, descended from
a family, which must necessarily be of great antiquity,
since, like all old things, it has long since
fallen into decay. My father had little or no money,
but was blessed with the poor man's wealth,
a fruitful wife and great store of children. Of
these I am the eldest; but at the period I shall
commence my story, we were all too young to
take care of ourselves, until the fortunate discovery
was made by some great philanthropist, that
little children, of six or seven years old, could
labour a dozen or fourteen hours a day without
stinting their minds, ruining their health, or destroying
their morals. This improvement in the
great science of PRODUCTIVE LABOUR, delighted my
father—it was shifting the onus, as the lawyers
say, from his own shoulders to that of his children.
He forthwith bound us all over to a cotton
manufactory, where we stood upon our legs
three times as long as a member of congress, that
is to say, fourteen hours a day, and among eight
of us, managed to earn a guinea a week. The
old gentleman, for gentleman he became from the
moment he discovered his little flock could maintain
him—thought he had opened a mine. He
left off working, and took to drinking and studying
the mysteries of political economy and productive
labour. He soon became an adept in this
glorious science, and at length arrived at the happy
conclusion, that the whole moral, physical, political
and religious organization of society, resolved
itself into making the most of human labour,
just as we do of that of our horses, oxen, asses
and other beasts of burthen. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 195 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The new mirror for travellers and guide to the springs | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In compiling and cogitating this work, we have considered
ourselves as having no manner of concern with
travellers until they arrive in the city of New York,
where we intend to take them under our especial protection.
Doubtless, in proceeding from the south,
there are various objects worth the attention of the traveller,
who may take the opportunity of stopping to
change horses, or to dine, to look round him a little,
and see what is to be seen. But, generally speaking,
all is lost time, until he arrives at New York, of which
it may justly be said, that as Paris is France, so New
York is—New York. It is here then that we take the
fashionable tourist by the hand and commence cicerone. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 199 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Westward ho! | | | | 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: | “O rare Ben Jonson!” said some one, and
O rare Beaumont and Fletcher say we; for in
honest sincerity we prefer this gentle pair to all
the old English dramatic writers except Shakspeare.
For playful wit, richness of fancy, exuberance
of invention, and, above all, for the
sweet magic of their language, where shall we
find their superiors among the British bards?
It is not for us obscure wights to put on the
critical nightcap, and, being notorious criminals
ourselves, set up as judges of others; but we
should hold ourselves base and ungrateful if
we did not seize this chance opportunity to
raise our voices in these remote regions of
the West, where, peradventure, they never
dreamed of one day possessing millions of
readers, in humble acknowledgment of the
many hours they have whiled away by the creations
of their sprightly fancy, arrayed in the
matchless melody of their tuneful verse. But
mankind must have an idol, one who monopolizes
their admiration and devotion. The name
of Shakspeare has swallowed up that of his
predecessors, contemporaries, and successors;
thousands, tens of thousands echo his name that
never heard of Marlow,—Marlow, to whom
Shakspeare himself condescended to be indebted,
and whose conception of the character of
Faust is precisely that of Goëthe;—of Webster,
Marston, Randolph, Cartwright, May, and all
that singular knot of dramatists, who unite the
greatest beauties with the greatest deformities,
and whose genius has sunk under the licentiousness
of the age in which it was their misfortune
to live. The names of Massinger, Ben
Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher are, it is true,
more familiar; but it is only their names and
one or two of their pieces that are generally
known. These last have been preserved, not
on the score of their superior beauties, but because
they afforded an opportunity for Garrick
and other great performers to reap laurels which
belonged to the poet, by the exhibition of some
striking character. Far be it from us to attempt
to detract from the fame of Shakspeare. Superior
he is, beyond doubt, to all his countrymen
who went before or came after him, in the peculiar
walk of his genius; but he is not so immeasurably
superior as to cast all others into
oblivion; and to us it seems almost a disgrace
to England that a large portion of her own
readers, and a still larger of foreigners, seem
ignorant that she ever produced more than one
dramatist. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 200 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The book of Saint Nicholas | | | | 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: | Everybody has heard of St. Nicholas, that
honest Dutch saint, whom I look upon as having
been one of the most liberal, good-natured little
fat fellows in the world. But, strange as it may
seem, though everybody has heard, nobody seems
to know anything about him. The place of his
birth, the history of his life, and the manner in
which he came to be the dispenser of Newyear
cakes, and the patron of good boys, are matters
that have hitherto not been investigated, as they
ought to have been long and long ago. I am about
to supply this deficiency, and pay a debt of honour
which is due to this illustrious and obscure tutelary
genius of the jolly Newyear. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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