| | 1 | Author: | Hawthorne
Nathaniel
1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Scarlet Letter  | | | | 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: | A throng of bearded men, in sad-colored garments
and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women,
some wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was
assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of
which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with
iron spikes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | Irving
Washington
1783-1859 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Tales of a Traveller | | | | 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 was once at a hunting dinner, given by a
worthy fox-hunting old Baronet, who kept Bachelor's
Hall in jovial style, in an ancient rook-haunted
family mansion, in one of the middle
counties. He had been a devoted admirer of the
fair sex in his young days; but having travelled
much, studied the sex in various countries with
distinguished success, and returned home profoundly
instructed, as he supposed, in the ways
of woman, and a perfect master of the art of
pleasing, he had the mortification of being jilted
by a little boarding school girl, who was scarcely
versed in the accidence of love. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Kirkland
Caroline M.
(Caroline Matilda)
1801-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A New Home - Who'll Follow? | | | | 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: | Our friends in the “settlements” have expressed so
much interest in such of our letters to them, as happened
to convey any account of the peculiar features
of western life, and have asked so many questions,
touching particulars which we had not thought, worthy
of mention, that I have been for some time past contemplating
the possibility of something like a detailed
account of our experiences. And I have determined
to give them to the world, in a form not very different
from that in which they were originally recorded for
our private delectation; nothing doubting, that a veracious
history of actual occurrences, an unvarnished
transcript of real characters, and an impartial record
of every-day forms of speech (taken down in many
cases from the lips of the speaker) will be pronounced
“graphic,” by at least a fair proportion of the journalists
of the day. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | Poe
Edgar Allan
1809-1849 | Requires cookie* | | | 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: | With a feeling of deep yet most singular affection
I regarded my friend Morella. Thrown by accident
into her society many years ago, my soul, from our
first meeting, burned with fires it had never before
known; but the fires were not of Eros; and bitter
and tormenting to my spirit was the gradual conviction
that I could in no manner define their unusual
meaning, or regulate their vague intensity. Yet we
met; and fate bound us together at the altar; and I
never spoke of passion, nor thought of love. She,
however, shunned society, and, attaching herself to
me alone, rendered me happy. It is a happiness to
wonder;—it is a happiness to dream. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | Sargent
Epes
1813-1880 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fleetwood, Or, the Stain of Birth | | | | 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: | Midnight brought with it no abatement of the
violence of the gale. During the day it had swept
in eddying gusts through the broad avenues and
narrow cross-streets of the city, carrying desolation
and dismay—prostrating chimneys—scattering
the slates from the roofs—and making sad havoc
with the wooden signs, which adorned the districts
devoted to traffic. One man, as he was passing up
Broadway, had been knocked on the head by the
shaft of a canvass awning, and instantly killed.
Others had been severely bruised by the flying
fragments, strewn at random by the blast. “You were decidedly right in resisting your
mother's importunities to leave Soundside until you
had heard from me. I shall not forget such a proof
of your attachment and fidelity. My business here
is of that importance that I cannot possibly quit the
city till Friday afternoon. Otherwise I would
most gladly fly to you at once. Under these circumstances,
and since your mother is so exceedingly
anxious to have you accompany her, I do not
see but that we had better yield to her wishes.
Our marriage can as well take place here as at
Soundside; and I see no good reason why it should
be deferred beyond the period we originally fixed.
Present my respects to your mother, and tell her
that for her daughter's sake she shall be dear.
Should you see Glenham, remember me to him
kindly. I owe him much. Poor fellow! he has
cause to envy me your affection; but I know that
he is incapable of any such passion. Apply to him
unreservedly, should you have occasion for friendly
and discreet advice. Let me know you mother's
address, that I may call as soon as you reach the
city. I am compelled to write in haste, as I only
received your letter a few minutes since, and mine
will miss the mail if I delay even to tell you with
how much sincerity and love, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Mary Hollis | | | | 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: | Many persons, in the village of ———, in Massachusetts,
remember Mary Lowe, a diligent, ingenious
little girl of a respectable family, who was left an orphan
when quite young, with a very slender provision,
which her guardians wisely expended, in obtaining for
her a decent education and the tayloring trade. She
went from house to house, eating her bread in singleness
of heart. She was approved by the elderly and
judicious, for her prudent, industrious, and quiet ways;
and she made herself the delight of all the children, by
her obliging disposition and good humour. The little
boys said, “Mary would always put pockets in their
clothes;” and the older boys, who longed to be emancipated
from the indignity of having their clothes made
by a woman-taylor, were still conciliated by Mary's
gentle manners, and a little, too, by the smart look
which she contrived to give to their apparel. I think
I can see her now bending over her goose, and as it
heavily trod the seams, singing some playful song to
the little group around her; and smiling and blushing
as she caught the approving glances of the elders of
the family. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 12 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Redwood | | | | 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: | On the last day of June, in the
year —, a small vessel, which traversed
weekly the waters of Lake Champlain,
was seen slowly entering one of the
most beautiful bays of that most beautiful
lake. A travelling carriage with
handsome equipments, a coachman in
livery and an outrider, were drawn up
on the shore, awaiting the approach of
the vessel. On the deck stood a group
of travellers for whom the equipage
was destined: a beautiful young woman,
and her attendant, a female slave, were
surveying it with pleased and equal
eagerness, while the father of the young
lady seemed quite absorbed in the contemplation
of a scene which poetry and
painting have marked for their own.
Not a breeze stirred the waters; their
mirror surface was quite unbroken, save
where the little vessel traced its dimpled
pathway. A cluster of islands lay in
beautiful fraternity opposite the harbour,
covered with a rich growth of wood,
and looking young, and fresh, and
bright, as if they had just sprung from
the element on which they seemed to
repose. The western shore presented
every variety of form; wooded headlands
jutting boldly into the lake, and
richly cultivated grounds sloping gently
to its margin. As the traveller's delighted
eye explored still farther, it
B 2
rested on the mountains that rise in four
successive chains, one above the other,
the last in the far distance dimly defining
and bounding the horizon. A cloud
at this moment veiled the face of the
sun, and its rich beams streamed aslant
upon the mountain tops, and poured
showers of gold and purple light into
the deep recesses of the valleys. Mr.
Redwood, a true admirer of nature's
lovely forms, turned his unsated gaze to
the village they were approaching,
which was indicated by a neat church
spire that peered over the hill, on the
height and declivities of which were
planted several new and neat habitations.
“Oh Caroline, my child,” exclaimed
the father, “was there ever
any thing more beautiful!” “Some months have elapsed, dear
Alsop, since we parted, and parted with
a truly juvenile promise to keep up
an unremitting epistolary intercourse.
And this I believe is the first essay made
by either of us; a fair illustration of the
common proportion which performance
bears to such promises. You, no doubt,
have been roving from pleasure to pleasure,
with an untiring impulse, and your
appetite, like the horse-leech, has still
cried, `give, give.' If one of your
vagrant thoughts has strayed after me,
you have doubtless fancied me immured
in my study, pursuing my free inquiries,
abandoning the fallen systems of vulgar
invention, and soaring far over the
misty atmosphere of imposture and credulity.
Or, perhaps, you deem that I
have adopted your sapient advice, have
returned to my home a dutiful child,
gracefully worn the chains of filial obedience,
made my best bow to papa, and
with a, `just as you please, Sir,' fallen,
secundum artem, desperately in love
with my beautiful, and beautifully rich
cousin; have rather taken than asked
her willing hand, and thus opened for
myself the path of ambition, or the
golden gates that lead to the regions of
pleasure, and which none but fortune's
hand can open, But, alas! the most
reasonable hopes are disappointed by
our fantastic destiny. We are the sport
of chance; and as we confess no other
deity, you are bound not to deride any
of the whimsical dilemmas into which
his votaries are led. Alsop, you have
often commended the boldness of my
mind, while you laughed at a certain
involuntary homage I paid to the beautiful
pictures of goodness, which some
dreaming enthusiasts have presented to
us, or to the moral beauty which among
all the varieties of accidental combination,
is sometimes exhibited in real
life. “I am grateful for your interest, and
convinced by your arguments that I
ought no longer to doze away my brief
existence in this retirement. I have obtained
my father's consent to the arrangement
you propose; and what is still
more indispensable, an ample supply in
consideration of a promise I have given
to him, that I will solicit the hand of my
cousin immediately after my return. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Redwood | | | | 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: | Those only who have observed the
magical effect produced upon a young
lady by the presence of a candidate for
her favour, whom she deems it worth
her efforts to obtain or retain, can have
an adequate notion of the change wrought
on Caroline Redwood since the arrival
of the Westalls. Instead of the listless,
sullen girl, who yawned away her days
in discontent or apathy, she became spirited,
active, and good-humoured. Even
her interest in the concerns of Ellen
Bruce, and her suspicions of that artless
girl's designs, were suspended in the
ardour of her present pursuit, and she
seemed to think of nothing and to care
for nothing but how she should secure
the triumph of her vanity. Every one
noticed the change; (excepting Ellen,
who had of late almost wholly withdrawn
from the family circle) indeed, it
was so manifest that Miss Deborah, who
had taken a decided dislike to Caroline,
and who was rather remarkable for the
inveteracy of her opinions, was heard to
say, that “since the girl's sweetheart
had come, she was as bright as a September
day after the fog was lifted; but
for her part she liked to see people have
sunshine within them like Ellen.” This
declaration was made by Miss Debby in
an imprudently loud tone of voice, as
she stood at a window gazing on Mr.
Redwood's carriage that had been ordered
for an afternoon's drive. Mr. Redwood,
Caroline, and Mrs. Westall were
B 2
already in the carriage, and Charles
Westall had returned to the parlour in
quest of some article Mr. Redwood had
forgotten; while he was looking for it,
Deborah's comment fell on his ear, and
probably gave a new direction to his
thoughts, for during the ride Caroline
rallied him on his extraordinary pensiveness;
and finally perceiving that his
gravity resisted all her efforts to dissipate
it, she proposed that if he had not lost
the use of his limbs as well as of his
tongue, he should alight from the carriage
with her and walk to a cottage, to
which they perceived a direct path
through a field, while the carriage approached
by the high road which ran
along the lake shore and was circuitous.
Westall assented rather with politeness
than eagerness; but when he was alone
with Caroline, when she roused all her
powers to charm him, he yielded to the
influence of her beauty and her vivacity.
Never had she appeared so engaging—
never so beautiful—the afternoon was
delicious—their path ran along the skirts
of an enchanting wood—its soft shadows
fell over them, the birds poured forth
their melody; and, in short, all nature
conspired to stimulate the lover's imagination
and to quicken his sensibility.
Charles forgot the sage resolutions he
had made to withhold his declaration till
he had satisfied certain doubts that had
sometimes obtruded on him, that all in
Caroline was not as fair and lovely as it
seemed; he forgot Miss Deborah's hint
—forgot every thing but the power and
the presence of his beautiful companion,
and only hesitated for language to express
what his eyes had already told her.
At this moment both his and Miss Redwood's
attention was withdrawn from
themselves to a little girl who appeared
at the door of the cottage, from which
they were now not many yards distant.
On perceiving them she bounded over
the door step, then stopped, put up her
hand to shade her eyes from the sun,
and gazed fixedly on them for a moment,
then again sprang forward, again stopped,
covered her eyes with both her
hands, threw herself at full length on the
grass, laid her ear to the ground and
seemed for a moment to listen intently;
she then rose, put her apron to her eyes
and appeared to be weeping, while she
retraced her way languidly to the cottage.
Caroline and Westall, moved by
the same impulse, quickened their pace,
and in a few moments reached the cottage
door, to which a woman had been
attracted by the sobs of the child, and
was expostulating with her in an earnest
tone. “God help us, Peggy, you'll just
ruin all if you go on in this way;” she
paused on perceiving that the child had
attracted the attention of the strangers;
and in reply to Westall's asking what
ailed the little girl, she said, “it's just
her simplicity, Sir; but if you and the
lady will condescend to walk into my
poor place here, I will tell you all about
it, or Peggy shall tell it herself, for when
she gets upon it her tongue runs faster
than mine: but bless me, here comes a
grand coach—look up, Peggy, you never
saw a real coach in your life.” Peggy
now let fall the apron with which she
had covered her face—a face if not
beautiful, full of feeling and intelligence.
She seemed instantly to forget her affliction,
whatever it was, in the pleasure of
gazing on the spectacle of the real coach.
“Ah, aunt Betty,” she exclaimed, “it
is the grand sick gentleman that is staying
at Mr. Lenox's.” The carriage drew
up to the door, and Mrs. Westall and
Mr. Redwood, attracted by the uncommonly
neat appearance of the cottage,
alighted and followed Caroline and
Charles, who had already entered it.
The good woman, middle-aged and of a
cheerful countenance, was delighted with
the honour conferred on her, bustled
around to furnish seats for her guests—
shook up the cushion of a rocking chair
for Mr. Redwood, and made a thousand
apologies for the confusion and dirt of
her house, which had the usual if not the
intended effect of calling forth abundance
of compliments on its perfect order
and neatness. “And now, Peggy,” she
said, as soon as they were all quietly
seated, “take the pitcher and bring some
cold water from the spring, that's what
the poor have, thank God, as good as
the rich, and it is all we have to offer.”
The little girl obeyed, and as soon as she
was out of hearing, the woman turned to
Westall. “It was your wish, Sir, to
know what ailed the child; the poor
thing has just got the use of her eyesight,
and she has been expecting some
one that she loves better than all the
world; and when she saw this young
lady with you, she thought it was her
friend—though to be sure she is shorter
than this lady; but then Peggy, poor
thing, does not see quite right yet, and
then when she is puzzled she just lies
down to the ground as you saw her, for
that was her way to listen, and she knows
Miss Ellen's step, for as light as it is,
when my poor ear can't hear a sound.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 14 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Redwood | | | | 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 fine afternoon in the month
of August when our travellers passed
the romantic road which traverses the
mountain that forms the eastern boundary
of the valley of Hancock. The
varied pleasures they had enjoyed during
the day, and the excitement of drawing
near to the object of their long journey,
animated them both with unusual spirits.
Deborah's tongue was voluble in praise
of the rich farms that spread out on the
declivities of the hills, or embosomed in
the protected vallies, called forth, as
they deserved, the enthusiastic commendations
of our experienced rustic. Ellen
listened in silence while she gazed with
the eye of an amateur upon this beautiful
country, which possesses all the elements
of the picturesque. Green hills
crowned with flourishing villages—village
spires rising just where they should
rise; for the scene is nature's temple, and
the altar should be there—lakes sparkling
like gems in the distant vallies—Saddle
mountain lifting his broad shoulders to
the northern sky, and the Catskills defining
with their blue and misty outline
the western horizon. “I guess you will be surprised to see
my pot-hooks and trammels, and puzzled
enough you will be to read them;
but I could not let so good an opportunity
pass without letting you know that
the Lord has spared our lives to this date,
and that all your friends at Eton are
well, except the minister, who enjoys
a poor state of health. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 15 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Travellers | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In the month of June, (the jubilee month
of poets and travellers) in the year eighteen
hundred and eighteen, Mr. Sackville,
his wife, and their two children, Edward
and Julia, made the grand tour of Niagara,
the lakes, Montreal, Quebec, &c. Both
parents and children kept journals, in
which they recorded with fidelity whatever
they observed which they deemed worthy
of note. We have been favored with the
perusal of them all, and have been permitted
to make a few extracts from them, which
we intend to combine into a brief narrative,
that we are sure will amuse our young
readers, provided their delicate essence
does not escape our unskilful hands. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Clarence, Or, a Tale of Our Own Times | | | | 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 one of the brightest and most beautiful
days of February. Winter had graciously yielded
to the melting influence of the soft breezes
from the Indian's paradise—the sweet southwest.
The atmosphere was a pure transparency, a perfect
ether; and Broadway, the thronged thoroughfare
through which the full tide of human existence
pours, the pride of the metropolis of our western
world, presented its gayest and most brilliant aspect. “My dear Madam—A severe pressure of pub
“lic business (private concerns I should have put
“aside) has prevented my expressing in person, the
“deep sympathy I feel in your late bereavement.
“The loss of a husband, and such a husband is
“indeed a calamity; but we must all bow to the
“dispensations of an all-wise Providence. “Tell me, my dear friend, if you love the coun
“try, (to borrow your legal phrase,) per se? Here
“I am surrounded by magnificent scenery, in the
“midst of `bowery summer,' in the month of flowers,
“and singing-birds, the leafy month of June, and
“yet I am sighing for New York. It is Madame
“de Staël, I think, who says that `love and religion
“only can enable us to enjoy nature.' The first,
“alas! alas! is (for is read ought to be,) passé to
“me; and the last I have exclusively associated with
“the sick-chamber and other forms of gloom and
“misery. “My dear Madam—It is I believe canonical to
“answer first the conclusion of a lady's letter. My
“reply to your queries about the Clarences will ac
“count for Mr. C.'s interest in me, without involv
“ing any reason so flattering as that you have sug
“gested. My uncle, Gerald Roscoe, was one of
“that unlucky brotherhood that have fallen under
“your lash, and so far from being a `dropped link,
“not missed, and soon forgotten,' he had that
“warmth and susceptibility of heart, that activity
“and benevolence of disposition, that strengthen
“and brighten the chain that binds man to man,
“and earth to heaven. Blessed be his memory!
“I never see an old bachelor that my heart does
“not warm to him for his sake. But to my story.
“My uncle—a Howard in his charities—(you
“touched a nerve, my dear Mrs. Layton, when
“you satarised old bachelors)—my uncle, on a
“visit to our city alms-house, espied a little boy,
“who, to use his own phrase, had a certain some
“thing about him that took his heart. This certain
“something, by the way, he saw in whoever needed
“his kindness. The boy too, at the first glance
“was attracted to my uncle. Children are the
“keenest physiognomists—never at fault in their first
“loves. It suddenly occurred to my uncle, that an
“errand-boy was indispensable to him. The child
“was removed to my grandfather's, and soon made
“such rapid advances in his patron's affections that
“he sent him to the best schools in the city, and
“promoted him to the parlor, where, universal
“sufferance being the rule of my grandfather's
“house, he was soon as firmly established as if he
“had equal rights with the children of the family.
“This child was then, as you probably know,
“called Charles Carroll. He was just graduated
“with the first honors of Columbia College, when,
“within a few days of each other, my grandfather
“and uncle died, and the house of Roscoe & Son
“proved to be insolvent. Young Carroll, of course,
“was cast on his own energies. He would have
“preferred the profession of law, but he had fallen
“desperately in love with a Miss Lynford, who
“lived in dependence in her uncle's family. He
“could not brook the humiliations which, I suspect,
“he felt more keenly than the subject of them,
“and he married, and was compelled, by the actual
“necessities of existence, to renounce distant ad
“vantages for the humble but certain gains of a
“clerkship. These particulars I had from my mo
“ther. You may not have heard that at the moment
“of his accession of property he suffered a calamity
“in the death of an only son, which deprived
“him of all relish, almost of all consciousness, of
“his prosperity. He would gladly have filled
“the boy's yawning grave with the wealth which
“seemed to fall into his hands at that moment, to
“mock him with its impotence. The boy was a
“rare gem. I knew him and loved him, and hap
“pened to witness his death; and being then at the
“impressible season of life, it sunk deeply into
“my heart. It was a sudden, and for a long time,
“a total eclipse to the poor father. The shock
“was aggravated by a bitter self-reproach, for
“having, in his engrossing anxiety for the result of
“his pending lawsuit, neglected the child's malady
“while it was yet curable. “On looking over your letter a second time, my
“dear Mrs. Layton, I find there is enough of it
“unanswered to give me a pretence for addressing
“you again; and as I know no more agreeable
“employment of one of my many leisure hours
“than communicating with you, I will contrast
“your picture of the miseries of rustic hospitality
“and rustic habits, with the trials of a poor devil,
“condemned to the vulgarity and necessity of drag
“ging through the summer months in town. We
all look at our present, petty vexations, through
“the magnifying end of the glass, and then turning
“our instrument, give to the condition of others, the
“softness and enchantment of distance. “Madam—I enclose you a remittance, according
“to the conjugal request you did me the honor to
“transmit through Gerald Roscoe, Esq.; and at the
“same time, I take the liberty to forewarn you, that
“unless you second—energetically second, my
“views and wishes in the — affair, I shall lose
“the ability, as I have long ago lost the inclination,
“to answer the demands arising from your habits of
“reckless expense. I expect you to be at Trenton
“by the first of next month. Pedrillo will follow
“you there; and there, or at Utica (he leaves all
“minor points to her decision) he expects to re
“ceive Emilie's hand. He loves Emilie—upon
“my soul I believe de does—devotedly. “It is with inexpressible sorrow, my sweetest
“friend, that I am compelled to bid you adieu with
“out again seeing you. We take our departure
“early in the morning. Poor Em' is quite heart“broken
about it. We are both under the tyranny
“of destiny. I resign all to the despot, save my
“affections; and of those, you, dearest, have taken
“complete possession. It is not because you are
“a heroine of the nineteenth century; that is, prac
“tical, rational, dutiful, and all the tedious et ceteras
“that I admire you. No, these are qualities that, like
“bread and water, are the gross elements of every
“day life, but they have nothing to do with that
“fine accord of finely touched spirits that common
“minds can no more attain than common senses can
“take in the music of the spheres. There is no
“describing it, but we understand it; do we not?
“Dear Gertrude, you must be my friend, you must
“love me; you will have much to forgive in me. I
“am a wayward creature. Oh, heavens! how infe
“rior to you! but there have been crosses in my
“destiny. Had I known you sooner, your bland
“influence would have given a different color to
“my life. You understand me. I disdain the
“Procrustes standard of pattern ladies who admit
“none to the heaven of their favor, but those
“who can walk on a mathematical line, like that
“along which a Mahometan passes to his paradise. “My dear Miss Clarence—I have forborne to
“disturb your repose after your perilous adventure,
“to announce our abrupt departure. Accident in
“troduced you into our family cabinet, and as you
“are apprised of its secrets, you will not wonder at
“poor Randolph's feelings, in consequence of the
“disclosures of to-day. My heart pleads for Emi
“lie, but my reason tells me, that it is wisest,
“discretest, best, to shun any farther intercourse
“with so beautiful a creature, who is so careless of
“obligations and consequences. Depend on it,
“Miss Clarence, I am right in my opinion of the
“mother; and though I grieve to say it, poor Emi
“lie has bad blood in her veins. I am sustaining
“the part of a rigid moralist with Randolph, while
“my womanish heart is melting within me. I can
“not regard the sweet girl in any other light, than
“as a victim—the faults of seventeen are not deli
“berate—but I talk as sternly to Randolph, as if I
“were Junius Brutus. In compliance with a kind
“invitation from your father, we have promised to
“visit Clarenceville, on our return from Niagara. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Clarence, Or, a Tale of Our Own Times | | | | 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: | Pedrillo's detention at Trenton was protracted
day after day, and week after week. His inflammatory
constitution, and impatient temper, acted reciprocally
upon each other ; and a wound, that
with a tranquil temperament would, by the process
of nature, have been cured in a week, produced a
suffering and languishing sickness. So surely and
dreadfully are physical evils aggravated by moral
causes, that those who would enjoy a sound body,
should cherish a sound mind. “Sir,—As duelling is, in my estimation, a viola
“tion of the immutable law of God, and can never
“be a reparation, or an atonement for an injury, I
“should in every supposable case avoid giving, and
“decline receiving, the `satisfaction of a gentleman,'
“in the technical acceptation of that phrase. Any
“other mode of satisfaction which a just and honor
“able man may give or require, for real or fancied
“injuries, I am ready to afford you, and shall de
“mand from you. “My dear friend—It is almost cruel of you to
“enforce your kind invitation with such glowing
“pictures of the variety and excitement of a winter
“in New York, and quite barbarous to ask me if I
“do not begin to feel the ennui of country life, when
“I am obliged to confess that I do. Since my return
“from Trenton, I have felt a craving that `country“contentments'
do not satisfy. I used to go round
“and round in the same circle, and experience nei
“ther satiety nor deficiency. I read and study as
“usual with my father, but the spirit is gone. I
“used to find amusement in the occasional visits of
“our simple village friends, and could, without
“effort, manifest the expected interest in the suc
“cess of an application for a new bank, or turn
“pike-road, or the formation of a new `society.'
“I could listen with becoming attention to Col.
“Norton's stories of the revolution, though I knew
“them all by heart—to good old Mrs. Wyman's
“graphic details of her anomalous diseases, and
“even to your friend Mrs. Upton's domestic chro
“nicles. I have ridden half a dozen miles to find
“out whether our pretty little busy bee, Sally Ellis,
“or her bouncing notable rival obtained the pre
“mium for the best flannel at the fair, and—dare I
“confess it to you, Mrs. Layton?—I have been as
“eager to know which of our rustic friends re
“ceived the premiums of the Agricultural Society
“—premiums for rich crops and fat bullocks—as if
“they were the crowns decreed in Olympian games.
“But, alas! it is all over now—these things move
“me no longer. I have not opened my piano since
“the Marions left us, and my drawing, my former
“delight, I have abandoned. It is too indissolubly
“associated with the sad memory of Louis Seton.
“If you love me, my dear Mrs. Layton, spare me
“any farther raillery on this subject—I cannot
“bear it. I have known nothing in my short life,
“so painful as being the accidental cause of suffer
“ing to a mind, pure, elevated, and susceptible as
“Louis Seton's, and certainly nothing so perplex
“ing to my faith, as that such a mind should be
“doomed to misery! My father, who is my ora
“cle in all dark matters, says these are mysteries of
“which we must quietly await the solution—that we
“are here as travellers in a strange and misty
“country, where objects are seen obscurely, and
“their relations and dependencies are quite hidden.
“But we are safe while we fix the eye of faith on
“the goodness of Providence—His perfect, illimit
“able, and immutable goodness. This is the bea
“con-light—the central truth of the moral universe.
“I am announcing high speculations in a very
“metaphysical sort of a way; but I am as the
“humble cottager who receives through her narrow
“window a few rays of light—few, but sufficient to
“brighten her small sphere of duty, and to preserve
“her from either faltering or fear. “My dear Madam—I have just received a letter
“from Mr. Clarence, who was a particular friend
“of my father.” Ha! ha! Gertrude, love plays
strange things with chronology—Morley is full five
and forty, which I take to be half a lustre in advance
of your father; but allons! “He recommends a
“friend of his, Mr. Randolph Marion, for the office
“of—, and says, what may be true though flatter
“ing, that my influence will decide who shall
“be the successful candidate. Nothing in life
“would give me greater pleasure than to oblige Mr.
“Clarence, but I am unfortunately in a degree
“committed to a very zealous and useful member of
“our party. If however your fair friend, Miss C.
“is interested in Marion, (I do not mean en amante,
“for I understand there is no interest of a delicate
“nature in question,) I shall make every effort and
“sacrifice to oblige her. Will you assure her of
“this, after ascertaining her wishes in the most re
“cherchée manner imaginable. Your sex are born
“diplomatists. Oh that you, my dear Madam,
“would vouchsafe to be my minister plenipoten“tiary
`dans les affaires du cœur!' “Respected lady: `If a man would thrive, he
“should wive,' therefore, as agent, and acting for
“my son, (John Smith,) I have the satisfaction of
“proposing an alliance (matrimonial) between you
“and him, (that is, my son.) He is a remarkable
“genteel young man in a drawing-room, (John is)
“—quite up to any thing, but as that is where you
“have seen him, (chiefly,) I shall say no more
“about it, only observing that my son (John) always
“goes for the first, (he can afford it,) i. e. Wheeler's
“coats—Whitmarsh's pantaloons—Byrne's boots—
“&c. &c.—which is, (I take it,) the reason he has
“made you, valued lady, his choice; you being
“the first match in the city (at present). John
“(my son) has been a healthy lad from the egg,
“and cleanly, (his mother says,) thorough cleanly.
“A touch of the intermittent, that he is taken down
“with, (this evening,) makes nothing against it (i. e.
“against his constitution). As I have found pro
“crastination (in all kinds of business) a bad thing,
“and to strike while the iron's hot, a safe rule
“(without exceptions), and as the doctor says my
“son (John) may be down for a week, I concluded
“(knowing his mind) not to delay, for fear of acci
“dents. As I have not writ a love-letter since I
“married my wife, I hope you will, ma'am, excuse
“all mistakes and deficiencies. As soon as I re
“ceive a punctual answer, (to the above,) we will ar
“range all matters of business, (there I'm at home,)
“to your, and your honored father's wishes. (Er
“rors excepted,) your obedient servant to command,
“ma'am, “Dear girl—I hope you will not deem my ad
17*
“dress to you at this time premature. I assure you
“the sentiment that prompts my pen was begun in
“esteem, and has ripened into love. I declare to
“you upon my honor, Miss Clarence, that I have
“never seen a lady, whom my head and heart both
“so wholly approved as yourself; and I feel very
“sure that no change of circumstances, or fortune,
“could ever make any difference in my feelings, but
“that in all the vicissitudes of this sublunary scene,
“I should show you every attention which man
“owes to the weaker sex. “My dear child—I have just received your last
“two letters. I trust no evil will ensue from the de
“lay of the first. “My dear Pedrillo,—It is with infinite pain that
“I find myself compelled to announce to you, my
“daughter's unconquerable aversion to yield to
“your wishes, and her father's prayers and com
“mands. It is in vain to contend longer. I have
“done every thing that the warmest friendship and
“the deepest and most heartily acknowledged obli
“gations could exact from me. Her mother too has
“argued, pleaded, and remonstrated in vain. But,
Vol. II. 18
“console toi, mon ami, even Cæsar's fortunes yield
“ed to fate, and there are others as young and as
“fair as my ungrateful girl, who will be proud to
“give you both heart and hand. You are too
“much of a philosopher to repine because the wind
“blows north, when you would have it south—shift
“your sails, and make for another port. “My dear sister—Last Tuesday evening invest
“ed me with the right to address you by this en
“dearing name; but no rights can add to the gra
“titude and affection your Emilie has long borne
“to you. “My dear friend—You conclude your last letter
“with a request that I will write you a `womanish
“epistle, full of feminine details; such as, what
“house I live in, how it is furnished and garnished,
“whom I visit, &c. &c.' I have quoted the pas
“sage, that if I answer it à la lettre, you may re
“member that you called forth my egotism. Mr.
“Roscoe was so fortunate as to be able to repur
“chase his father's house, a fine old family mansion,
“not far from our beautiful battery, and command
“ing a view of our animated bay, which, if equalled,
“we the untravelled believe is not surpassed, by the
“happiest combinations of land and water on this
“fair earth. The house is somewhat old-fashioned,
“but we have given it the most modern and conve
“nient arrangement of which it was susceptible,
“without an entire and therefore, as we think, sacri
“legious alteration. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Tales and Sketches | | | | 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: | A calm observer who has scarcely lived half the
age of man, must look back with a smile at human
frailty, rather than with a harsher feeling upon the
subjects that have broken the world in which he has
lived, (be it a little or a great one,) into opposed and
contending parties. The stream for a while glides on
with an unbroken surface, a snag interposes, and the
waters divide, and fret, and foam around it till chance
or time sweep it away, when they again commingle,
and flow on in their natural unruffled union. This is
the common course of human passions. The subject
in dispute may be more or less dignified; the succession
to an empire, or to a few acres of sterile land;
the rival claims of candidates to the Presidency, or
competitors for a village clerkship; the choice of a
minister to England, or the minister of our parish; the
position of a capital city, or of an obscure meeting
house;[1]
[1]This fruitful subject of dispute has rent asunder many a village
society in New England.
the excellence of a Catalini, or of a rustic
master of psalmody; a dogma in religion or politics;
in short anything, to which, as with the shield in the
fable, there are two sides. “Dear Randolph—I thank you a thousand times and
so does C—, for the gold eagles. There never was
anything in the world so beautiful, I do'nt believe.
They are far before the grown up ladies. We shall
certainly wear them to meeting next Sabbath, and fix
them so every body in the world can see them, and not
let the bow of ribbon fall down over them, as Miss
Clarke did last Sabbath, cause she has got that old
democrat, Doctor Star, for a sweetheart; but I managed
her nicely, Randolph. In prayer time when she did
not dare move, I whirled round the bow so the eagle
stood up bravely, and flashed right in Doctor Star's
eyes. I did not care so very much about having an
eagle for myself, (though I do now since you have
given it to me,) but I thought it very important for
C— to wear the federal badge, because her father is
a senator in Congress. Father is almost as pleased as
we are. I see Clover coming and I must make haste;
poor old fellow! I heard his tread when it stormed so
awfully last night, and I got father to put him up in our
stable. Was not he proper good? It was after prayers,
too, and his wig was off and his knee buckles out. There,
they all go out of Deacon Garfield's to read Clover's
papers. Good by, dear, dear Randolph. “Honoured Sir—It is with no little grief of mind
and sadness of heart, that I am necessitated to be so
bould as to supplicate your honoured self, with the
honourable assembly of your General Court, to extend
your mercy and favour once again, to me, and my
children. Little did I dream, that I should have occasion
to petition in a matter of this nature; but so it
is, that through the divine providence and your benignity,
my sonn obtayned so much pity and mercy at
your hands, to enjoy the life of his mother. Now my
supplication to your honours is, to begg affectionately
the life of my dear wife. 'Tis true, I have not seen
her above this half yeare, and cannot tell how, in the
frame of her spirit, she was moved thus againe to run
so great a hazard to herself, and perplexity to me and
mine, and all her friends and wellwishers. “It is, I believe, or should be, a maxim of the true
church, that confession of a sin is the first step towards
its expiation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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