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41Author:  Flint Timothy 1780-1840Requires cookie*
 Title:  The life and adventures of Arthur Clenning, in two volumes  
 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 obtained the ensuing adventures for publication, as the reader will see, a circumstance, which I am about to relate, gave me serious alarm, lest this volume should be classed with the common novels and made up stories of the day. It would give me pain to have it lose the little interest which might appertain to it, as a recital of plain and simple matters of fact. My apprehension that such might be its fate, was excited by hearing, the very evening after I had completed this compilation from the notes of Mr. Clenning, a critical dialogue between two old, spectacled, female, novel-reading, tea-drinking cronies, as they discussed the merits of a recently published novel over their evening tea. I seemed to them to be absorbed in reading the newspapers; but in truth my ears drank every word. The incidents of the story upon which they sat in judgment, were as nearly like this biography of mine as fiction may approach to fact. I considered their opinions a kind of forestalling of my doom. The sprites of the lower country did not pitchfork the fictitious Don Quixotte with more hearty good will to the burning depths, as the real Don Quixotte related their management, than did these excellent old ladies dispose of this book. “The wretch!” said the first; “he has removed the landmarks between history and fable.” “The fool!” said the other; “he does not know how to keep up the appearance of probability.” “My husband inquired on the spot,” said the first, “and the people had never even heard of such a man.” “The block-head!” said the second; “he should have laid the scene just four hundred years back.” “He caricatures nature horribly,” said the first. “He is wholly deficient in art and polish,” said the second. “It is a poor affair from the beginning,” said the first. “The author is only fit to write for the newspapers,” said the second. “He has been an exact and humble copyist of Sir Walter Scott, though he is just a thousand leagues behind him,” said the first. “He is nine hundred miles behind Mr. Cooper, dear man,” said the second.
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42Author:  Flint Timothy 1780-1840Requires cookie*
 Title:  George Mason, the young backwoodsman, or, 'Don't give up the ship"  
 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: Widow, who weepest sore in the night, and whose tears are on thy cheeks, because thy young children are fatherless, and the husband of thy bosom and thy youth in the dust, dry thy tears. Remember Him, who hath promised to be the husband of the widow, and take courage. Orphan, who hast seen thy venerated father taken from thee by the rude hand of death, and whose thought is, that in the wide world, there is none to love, pity, or protect thee, forget not the gracious Being, who has promised to be a father to the orphan, and remember, that thy business in life is, not to give up to weak and enervating despondence, and waste thy strength in sorrow and tears. Life is neither an anthem nor a funeral hymn, but an assigned task of discipline and struggle, and thou hast to gird thyself, and go to thy duty in the strength of God. I write for the young, the poor, and the desolate; and the moral and the maxim which I wish to inculcate is, that we ought never to despond, either in our religious or our temporal trials. To parents I would say, inculcate the spirit, the duties, and the hopes of religion upon your children in the morning and the evening, in the house and by the way. Instil decision and moral courage into their young bosoms. Teach them incessantly the grand maxim—self-respect. It will go farther to gain them respect, and render them deserving of it, than the bequeathed stores of hoarded coffers. A child, deeply imbued with self-respect, will never disgrace his parents. The inculcation of this single point includes, in my view, the best scope of education. If my powers corresponded to my wishes, I would impress these thoughts in the following brief and unpretending story. The reader will see, if he knows the country, where it is laid, as I do, that it is true to nature. He will comprehend my motive for not being more explicit on many points; and he will not turn away with indifference from the short and simple annals of the poor, for he will remember, that nine in ten of our brethren of the human race are of that class. He will not dare to despise the lowly tenants of the valley, where the Almighty, in his wisdom, has seen fit to place the great mass of our race. It has been for ages the wicked, and unfeeling, and stupid habit of writers, in selecting their scenery and their examples, to act as if they supposed that the rich, the titled, and the distinguished, who dwell in mansions, and fare sumptuously every day, were the only persons, who could display noble thinking and acting; that they were the only characters, whose loves, hopes, fortunes, sufferings, and deeds had any thing in them, worthy of interest, or sympathy. Who, in reading about these favorites of fortune, remembers that they constitute but one in ten thousand of the species? Even those of humble name and fortunes have finally caught the debasing and enslaving prejudice themselves, and exult in the actions, and shed tears of sympathy over the sorrows of the titled and the great, which, had they been recorded of 1* those in their own walk of life, would have been viewed either with indifference or disgust. I well know that the poor can act as nobly, and suffer as bitterly and keenly as the rich. There is as much strength and force and truth of affection in cottages as in palaces. I am a man, and as such, am affected with the noble actions, the joys and sorrows, the love and death of the obscure, as much as of the great. If there be any difference, the deeds, affections, fortunes, and sufferings of the former have more interest; for they are unprompted by vanity, unblazoned by fame, unobscured by affectation, unalloyed by pride and avarice. The actings of the heart are sincere, simple, single. God alone has touched the pendulum with his finger, and the vibrations are invariably true to the purpose of Him who made the movement. If, therefore, reader, you feel with me, you will not turn away with indifference from this, my tale, because you are forewarned, that none of the personages are rich or distinguished. You will believe, that a noble heart can swell in a bosom clad in the meanest habiliments. You will admit the truth as well as the beauty of the poet's declaration, respecting the gems of the sea, and the roses that “waste their sweetness on the desert air;” and you will believe, that incidents, full of tender and solemn interest, have occurred in a log cabin in the forests of the Mississippi.
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43Author:  Flint Timothy 1780-1840Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Shoshonee Valley  
 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 Shoshonee are a numerous and powerful tribe of Indians, who dwell in a long and narrow vale of unparalleled wildness and beauty of scenery, between the two last western ridges of the Rocky Mountains, on the south side of the Oregon, or as the inhabitants of the United States choose to call it, the Columbia. They are a tall, finely formed, and comparatively fair haired race, more mild in manners, more polished and advanced in civilization, and more conversant with the arts of municipal life, than the contiguous northern tribes. Vague accounts of them by wandering savages, hunters, and coureurs du bois, have been the sources, most probably, whence have been formed the western fables, touching the existence of a nation in this region, descended from the Welsh. In fact many of the females, unexposed by their condition to the sun and inclemencies of the seasons, are almost as fair, as the whites. The contributions, which the nation has often levied from their neighbors the Spaniards, have introduced money and factitious wants, and a consequent impulse to build after the fashions, to dress in the clothes, and to live after the modes of civilized people, among them. From them they have obtained either by barter or war, cattle, horses, mules, and the other domestic animals, in abundance. Maize, squashes, melons and beans they supposed they had received as direct gifts from the Wah-condah, or Master of Life. The cultivation of these, and their various exotic exuberant vegetables, they had acquired from surveying the modes of Spanish industry and subsistence. Other approximations to civilization they had unconsciously adopted from numerous Spanish captives, residing among them, in a relation peculiar to the red people, and intermediate between citizenship and slavery. But the creole Spanish, from whom they had these incipient germs of civilized life, were themselves a simple and pastoral people, a century behind the Anglo Americans in modern advancement. The Shoshonee were, therefore, in a most interesting stage of existence, just emerging from their own comparative advancements to a new condition, modelled to the fashion of their Spanish neighbors.
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44Author:  Foster Hannah Webster 1759-1840Requires cookie*
 Title:  The coquette, or, The history of Eliza Wharton : a novel, founded on fact  
 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: An unusual sensation possesses my breast; a sensation, which I once thought could never pervade it on any occasion whatever. It is pleasure; pleasure, my dear Lucy, on leaving my paternal roof! Could you have believed that the darling child of an indulgent and dearly beloved mother would feel a gleam of joy at leaving her? but so it is. The melancholy, the gloom, the condolence, which surrounded me for a month after the death of Mr. Haly, had depressed my spirits, and palled every enjoyment of life. Mr. Haly was a man of worth; a man of real and substantial merit. He is therefore deeply, and justly regreted by his friends; he was chosen to be a future guardian, and companion for me, and was, therefore, beloved by mine. As their choice; as a good man, and a faithful friend, I esteemed him. But no one acquainted with the disparity of our tempers and dispositions, our views and designs, can suppose my heart much engaged in the alliance. Both nature and education had instilled into my mind an implicit obedience to the will and desires of my parents. To them, of course, I sacrificed my fancy in this affair; determined that my reason should coucur with theirs; and on that to risk my future happiness. I was the more encouraged, as I saw, from our first acquaintance, his declining health; and expected, that the event would prove as it has. Think not, however, that I rejoice in his death. No; far be it from me; for though I believe that I never felt the passion of love for Mr. Haly; yet a habit of conversing with him, of hearing daily the most virtuous, tender, and affectionate sentiments from his lips, inspired emotions of the sincerest friendship, and esteem.
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45Author:  Hale Sarah Josepha Buell 1788-1879Requires cookie*
 Title:  Keeping house and house keeping  
 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: “My dear,” said Mrs. Harley to her husband one morning, “I have been thinking we had better make a change in our domestic department. Nancy, I find, is getting quite impertinent; she wants to go out one afternoon every week, and that, in addition to her nightly meetings, is quite too much. Shall I settle with her to-day and dismiss her?” “My dear William—Your earthly treasures (that is, little John and myself) are running wild in these Elysian fields. Escaped from the din and tumult of the ctiy, it is so reviving to breathe the pure air of this healthful region, that the principal part of my conversation is to tell all the kind people whom I see here how delighted I am with the change, and how happy they must be who enjoy it all the time; to which Aunt Ruth generally replies, `Those who make the change are the people who are alive to its benefits; while those who always live amid such beauty become indifferent spectators.' “Dear Husband—When I last wrote, the full tide of happiness seemed flowing in upon me on every side; but alas! the change. Johnny, the day after I wrote you, was taken ill, and has continued so ever since. His disease the doctor pronounces to be the scarlet fever. To-day he is a little better; and while he is sleeping, I have taken my writing-desk to his bedside, that I may be ready to note any alteration. “Afternoon “Dear Aunt—You very good-naturedly ask me how I like the change from my former mode of living. I will frankly tell you, that it scarcely admits a comparison. I blush to recall my former imbecility, and often wonder at the long suffering of my friends, and of William in particular—that he should chide so little when he felt so much!
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46Author:  Hale Sarah Josepha Buell 1788-1879Requires cookie*
 Title:  "Boarding out"  
 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: “What ails you, my dear?” inquired Robert Barclay of his wife, as she sat thoughtfully, twirling her tea-cup. “You seem, of late, very uninterested in my conversation. Has any thing gone wrong with you to-day?” “Our plans are all arranged. Little did I think, when we conversed together upon the subject of my giving up housekeeping, I should so soon carry into effect your plan. I call it yours, for you first suggested to me the expedient of ridding myself of domestic trials. Mr. Barclay was at first wholly averse to hearing a word about it; but, dear Fanny, I talked hours, yes! days, until he yielded! Was he not a kind husband? I never suggested to him that you were prime mover, lest in future time, if things should not turn out well, you might be reproached. But, cousin, I am wholly unacquainted with the process of `breaking up housekeeping.' I thought we should never get furnished when we moved here; and now I feel as if we never should get things in order for the sale, unless you come immediately and help me. You will therefore stand by me for at least three or four weeks; help me look out a boarding-house, &c. Come in the four o'clock omnibus this afternoon. Truly, “I was just at my writing-desk, dictating a note to be sent to you, as your kind one arrived. Do not think me, Cousin Hepsy, a maniac, ranting in an untrue style, when I tell you I had accepted an invitation to stand as bridemaid to Madam Shortt the very day the announcement of her marriage was made to you! My partner (for I will tell the whole) is Rev. Mr. Milnor, our former clergyman, now of your city, who knew Colonel Bumblefoot many years in England, and many since in America; and, at his urgent request, has consented to stand nearest him during the ceremony! But your exclamations are not over yet. I suppose, at no very distant day, your cousin, Fanny Jones, may sign her name as `Fanny Milnor!' You will please communicate this to your good husband; and if I can be of any service to you again in a chase for a boarding-house, you are welcome to my services.
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47Author:  Allston Washington 1779-1843Requires cookie*
 Title:  Monaldi  
 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: Among the students of a seminary at Bologna were two friends, more remarkable for their attachment to each other, than for any resemblance in their minds or dispositions. Indeed there was so little else in common between them, that hardly two boys could be found more unlike. The character of Maldura, the eldest, was bold, grasping, and ostentatious; while that of Monaldi, timid and gentle, seemed to shrink from observation. The one, proud and impatient, was ever laboring for distinction; the world, palpable, visible, audible, was his idol; he lived only in externals, and could neither act nor feel but for effect; even his secret reveries having an outward direction, as if he could not think without a view to praise, and anxiously referring to the opinion of others; in short, his nightly and his daily dreams had but one subject — the talk and the eye of the crowd. The other, silent and meditative, seldom looked out of himself either for applause or enjoyment; if he ever did so, it was only that he might add to, or sympathize in the triumph of another; this done, he retired again, as it were to a world of his own, where thoughts and feelings, filling the place of men and things, could always supply him with occupation and amusement.
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48Author:  Bacon Delia Salter 1811-1859Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Bride of Fort Edward  
 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 
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49Author:  Belknap Jeremy 1744-1798Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Foresters  
 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: To perform the promise which I made to you before I began my journey, I will give you such an account of this, once forest, but now cultivated and pleasant country, as I can collect from my conversation with its inhabitants, and from the perusal of their old family papers, which they have kindly permitted me to look into for my entertainment. By these means I have acquainted myself with the story of their first planting, consequent improvements and present state; the recital of which will occupy the hours which I shall be able to spare from business, company and sleep, during my residence among them.
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50Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Bandits of the Osage  
 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: “`My dear son, God be with you! I am dying, and can never see you again on earth, but will in the land of spirits. My strength is failing—I have but a few minutes to live, and will devote them to you. You have often questioned me of your father. I have delayed answering you,—but the time has now come when it is necessary you should know all. God give me strength to pen, and you to read the secret of my life!—and Ronald, dear Ronald, whatever you do, do not reproach, do not curse my memory! I shall enter but little into detail, for time and strength will not permit. At the age of twelve I was left an orphan, and was taken in charge of some distant relatives of my mother, with whom I lived in easy circumstances, until the age of sixteen. They were not wealthy, and yet had enough wherewithal to live independent. They treated me with much affection, and life passed pleasantly for four years. At the age of sixteen, I accidentally became acquainted with Walter Langdon, only son of Sir Edgar Langdon, whose large estate and residence—for he was very wealthy— was but a few miles distant. He found opportunity and declared his attachment, but at the same time informed me that our relations on either side would be opposed to our union, and begged me to make no mention of it, but to prepare myself and elope with him; that when the ceremony was over, and no alternative, all parties would become reconciled. He was young, handsome, and accomplished—his powers of conversation brilliant. He plead with a warmth of passion I could not withstand—for know, Ronald, I loved him, with the ardent first love of a girl of sixteen, and I consented. Alas! Ronald, that I am forced to tell you more: this rash act was my ruin!
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51Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Renegade  
 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: That portion of territory known throughout Christendom as Kentucky, was, at an early period, the theatre of some of the wildest tragedies, most hardy contested and bloody scenes ever placed on record. In fact its very name, derived from the Indian word Kan-tuck-kee, and which was applied to it long before its discovery by the whites, is peculiarly significant in meaning—being no less than “the dark and bloody ground.” History makes no mention of its being inhabited prior to its settlement by the present race, but rather serves to aid us in the inference, that from time immemorial it was used as a “neutral ground,” whereon the different savage tribes were wont to meet in deadly strife; and hence the portentious name by which it was known among them. But notwithstanding its ominous title, Kentucky, when first beheld by the white hunter, presented all the attractions he would have envied in Paradise itself. The climate was congenial to his feelings— the country was devoid of savages—while its thick tangles of green cane— abounding with deer, elk, bears, buffaloes, panthers, wolves and wild cats, and its more open woods with pheasant, turkey and partridges—made it the full realization of his hopes—his longings. What more could he ask? And when he again stood among his friends, beyond the Alleghanies, is it to be wondered at that his excited feelings, aided by distance, should lead him to describe it as the El Dorado of the world? Such indeed he did describe it; and to such glowing descriptions, Kentucky is doubtless partially indebted for her settlement so much in advance of the surrounding territory. “Dear Son:—If in the land of the living, return as speedily as possible to your afflicted and anxious parents, who are even now mourning you as dead. You can return in safety; for your cousin, whom you supposed you had fatally wounded, recovered therefrom, and publicly exonerated you from all blame in the matter. He is now, however, no more—having died of late with the scarlet fever. Elvira, his wife, is also dead. She died insane. As a partial restitution for the injury done you, your cousin has made you heir by will, to all his property, real estate and personal, amounting, it is said, to over twenty thousand dollars. Your mother is in feeble health, caused by anxiety on your account. For further information, inquire of the messenger who will bear you this.
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52Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Trapper's Bride, Or, Spirit of Adventure  
 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 in the autumn of 18— that I isited the city of New York for the first ime. I had long been desirous of seeing hat great city, the grand commercial and mercantile emporium of the western world: the London of America. This city is one of the oldest in the United States, and by far the largest in the Republic, and decidedly the most important in a business point of view. Its mercantile interests are greater and vastly more extended, than are those of any other city in the Union. Early in the history of this country it was founded by a colony of Dutch, a people then widely known for the spirit and energy with which they carried on mercantile pursuits, and more especially for their commercial operations. This spirit they brought with them to their new home: and, as the town grew in importance, and increased in wealth, they pushed their branches of business, which were found profitable to them, besides being more to their liking than any other pursuits in life: and in this way they gained an advance over the other settlements in the country, which they have ever since continued to hold. New York possesses by its location all the natural advantages for commercial pursuit. Its wide harbor, which affords a safe anchorage for the largest ships, looks out upon the boundless ocean, which is traversed at this time by its thousands of stout, staunch vessels. Its intercourse with foreign nations across the ocean is extremely easy from this circumstance, and its active citizens saw this advantage from the first; it was the strong inducement which led them to settle on that narrow neck of land upon which the city is built, and as I have said, early turned their attention to the subject of navigation, and to embark in the pursuits of commerce. As the country grew, and the population increased, foreign trade also became more profitable, and this city was the port that received the returning ships laden with the treasures and luxuries of foreign climes, and in turn sent them back freighted with the surplus productions of our own land, to be exchanged in distant countries. At the date of my story, the city had become large and wealthy. It had already secured the largest share of trade in foreign staples and commodities from other parts of our country, and merchants from other cities on the sea-board as well as inland cities and towns came here to purchase their stocks. Merchants from all parts of the country flowed to New York, as offering the best chance to do business profitably, and advantageously; and foreigners, also, who came to this country, were pretty sure to make this port on their arrival, and quite as sure to remain and engage in business in this enterprising and prosperous city. From successful business, many of the city merchants grew very wealthy, and retiring from active business, they built for themselves elegant mansions in which they resided in the bosom of their families, enjoying all the comforts and pleasures, both social and domestic, their amassed wealth could purchase for them; hence there grew up in this city, and very naturally too, an aristocracy of wealth, and with wealth an aristocracy of fashion; indeed this city soon became what in truth it has ever since continued to be, the source and fountain of the fashion. Here were to be seen the latest styles of female costume; here the fashionable bean got the cue for the approved and last method of the tie of his cravat, or the color and size of his coat buttons, the length and shape of his whiskers and moustaches. In fact, in this respect, New York is to America what Paris is to France; and here you will ever find a crowd devoted to the gay goddess whose temples are the milliners, the mantua-makers, tailors and barbers' shops.
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53Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  Calavar, Or, the Knight of the Conquest  
 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 year of Grace fifteen hundred and twenty, upon a day in the month of May thereof, the sun rose over the islands of the new deep, and the mountains that divided it from an ocean yet unknown, and looked upon the havoc, which, in the name of God, a Christian people were working-upon the loveliest of his regions. He had seen, in the revolution of a day, the strange transformations which a few years had brought upon all the climes and races of his love. The standard of Portugal waved from the minarets of the east; a Portuguese admiral swept the Persian Gulf, and bombarded the walls of Ormuz; a Portuguese viceroy held his court on the shores of the Indian ocean; the princes of the eastern continent had exchanged their bracelets of gold for the iron fetters of the invader; and among the odours of the Spice Islands, the fumes of frankincense ascended to the God of their new masters. He passed on his course: the breakers that dashed upon the sands of Africa, were not whiter than the squadrons that rolled among them; the chapel was built on the shore, and under the shadow of the crucifix was fastened the first rivet in the slavery of her miserable children. Then rose he over the blue Atlantic: the new continent emerged from the dusky deep; the ships of discoverers were penetrating its estuaries and straits, from the Isles of Fire even to the frozen promontories of Labrador; and the roar of cannon went up to heaven, mingled with the groans and blood of naked savages. But peace had descended upon the islands of America; the gentle tribes of these paradises of ocean wept in subjection over the graves of more than half their race; hamlets and cities were springing up in their valleys and on their coasts; the culverin bellowed from the fortress, the bell pealed from the monastery; and the civilization and vices of Europe had supplanted the barbarism and innocence of the feeble native. Still, as he careered to the west, new spectacles were displayed before him; the followers of Balboa had built a proud city on the shores, and were launching their hasty barks on the surges of the New Ocean; the hunter of the Fountain of Youth was perishing under the arrows of the wild warriors of Florida, and armed Spaniards were at last retreating before a pagan multitude. One more sight of pomp and of grief awaited him: he rose on the mountains of Mexico; the trumpet of the Spaniards echoed among the peaks; he looked upon the bay of Ulua, and, as his beams stole tremblingly over the swelling current, they fell upon the black hulls and furled canvas of a great fleet riding tranquilly at its moorings. The fate of Mexico was in the scales of destiny; the second army of invaders had been poured upon her shores. In truth, it was a goodly sight to look upon the armed vessels that thronged this unfrequented bay; for peacefully and majestically they slept on the tide, and as the morning hymn of the mariners swelled faintly on the air, one would have thought they bore with them to the heathen the tidings of great joy, and the good-will and grace of their divine faith, instead of the earthly passions which were to cover the land with lamentation and death.
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54Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Infidel, Or, the Fall of Mexico  
 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 traveller, who wanders at the present day along the northern and eastern borders of the Lake of Tezcuco, searches in vain for those monuments of aboriginal grandeur, which surrounded it in the age of Montezuma. The lake itself, which, not so much from the saltness of its flood as from the vastness of its expanse, was called by Cortes the Sea of Anahuac, is no longer worthy of the name. The labours of that unhappy race of men, whose bondage the famous Conquistador cemented in the blood of their forefathers, have conducted, through the bowels of a mountain, the waters of its great tributaries, the pools of San Cristobal and Zumpango; and these, rushing down the channel of the Tula, or river of Montezuma, and mingled with the surges of the great Gulf, support fleets of modern argosies, instead of piraguas and chinampas, and expend upon foundering ships-of-war the wrath, which, in their ancient beds, was wasted upon reeds and bulrushes. With the waters, which rippled through their streets, have vanished the numberless towns and cities, that once beautified the margin of the Alpine sea; the towers have fallen, the lofty pyramids melted into earth or air, and the palaces and tombs of kings will be looked for in vain, under tangled copses of thistle and prickly-pear.
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55Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Infidel, Or, the Fall of Mexico  
 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: Before sunrise on the following morning, many a feathered band of allies from distant tribes was pouring into Tezcuco; for this was the day on which the Captain-General had appointed to review his whole force, assign the several divisions to the command of his favourite officers, and expound the system of warfare, by which he expected to reduce the doomed Tenochtitlan. The multitudes that were collected by midday would be beyond our belief, did we not know that the royal valley, and every neighbouring nook of Anahuac capable of cultivation, were covered by a population almost as dense as that which makes an ant-heap of the `Celestial Empire,' at this day.
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56Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  Nick of the Woods, Or, the Jibbenainosay  
 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: When the soldier recovered his senses, it was to wonder again at the change that had come over the scene. The loud yells, the bitter taunts, the mocking laughs, were heard no more; and nothing broke the silence of the wilderness, save the stir of the leaf in the breeze, and the ripple of the river against its pebbly banks below. He glanced a moment from the bush in which he was lying, in search of the barbarians who had lately covered the slope of the hill, but all had vanished; captor and captive had alike fled; and the sparrow twittering among the stunted bushes, and the grasshopper singing in the grass, were the only living objects to be seen. The thong was still upon his wrists, and as he felt it rankling in his flesh, he almost believed that his savage captors, with a refinement in cruelty the more remarkable as it must have robbed them of the sight of his dying agonies, had left him thus bound and wounded, to perish miserably in the wilderness alone.
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57Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Adventures of Robin Day  
 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: Sylla, the Roman dictator, is, as far as I know, the only great man on record who attributed his advancement to good luck; all other great men being modestly content to refer their successes in life to their own merits; insisting, with the philosophers, that there is not, in reality, any such thing as luck at all, good, bad, or indifferent, but that every man's fortune, whether happy or evil, is referable to his own agency, the direct result of his own wise or foolish actions. Such may be the fact, for aught I can say, (it is a comfortable doctrinef or the fortunate,) and I do not pretend to controvert it; but of one thing I am very certain, namely, that whether there be bad luck in the world or not, there is an abundance of those unhappy personages who are commonly considered its victims—that is to say, unlucky dogs; of which race I was undoubtedly born a member.
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58Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Adventures of Robin Day  
 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: Much as I had reason to fear and detest this remarkable personage, Captain Brown, by whom I had been so basely defrauded and cheated into a participation in knavery, and who, I had cause from his own confessions, to believe was, or had once been, a noted pirate; yet my feelings at sight of him mingled something like satisfaction with my fear and resentment. I was so forlorn and helpless in the midst of embarrassment and danger, so much in want of a friend to counsel and assist me, that even Captain Hellcat's countenance appeared to me desirable: at such a moment, I could have accepted the friendship almost of Old Nick himself. He had done me a great deal of mischief, to be sure; but, in my present situation, it was scarce possible he could do me any more. From his courage and worldly experience, nay even from his good will—for I almost looked upon him as a friend, though a mischievous and dangerous one—much was to be expected: and, besides, our adventures together had established a kind of community of interests between us, at least to a certain extent, (were we not house-robbers and runaways together?) which, I thought, must ensure me his good offices, at this moment of difficulty and distress. I resolved, in a word, having no other way to help myself, to throw myself upon his friendship, and trust to him for rescue from the dangers that beset me.
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59Author:  Brown Charles Brockden 1771-1810Requires cookie*
 Title:  Edgar Huntly, Or, Memoirs of a Sleep-walker  
 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: Next morning I stored a small bag with meat and bread, and throwing an axe on my shoulder, set out, without informing any one of my intentions, for the hill. My passage was rendered more difficult by these incumbrances, but my perseverance surmounted every impediment, and I gained, in a few hours, the foot of the tree, whose trunk was to serve me for a bridge. In this journey I saw no traces of the fugitive.
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60Author:  Brown Charles Brockden 1771-1810Requires cookie*
 Title:  Ormond, Or, the Secret Witness  
 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: Stephen Dudley was a native of New-York. He was educated to the profession of a painter. His father's trade was that or an apothecary. But this son, manifesting an attachment to the pencil, he was resolved that it should be gratified. For this end Stephen was sent at an early age to Europe, and not only enjoyed the instructions of Fuzeli and Bartolozzi, but spent a considerable period in Italy, in studying the Augustan and Medicean monuments. It was intended that he should practise his art in his native city, but the young man, though reconciled to this scheme by deference to paternal authority, and by a sense of its propriety, was willing, as long as possible to postpone it. The liberality of his father relieved him from all pecuniary cares. His whole time was devoted to the improvement of his skill in his favorite art, and the enriching of his mind with every valuable accomplishment. He was endowed with a comprehensive genius and indefatigable industry. His progress was proportionably rapid, and he passed his time without much regard to futurity, being too well satisfied with the present to anticipate a change. A change however was unavoidable, and he was obliged at length to pay a reluctant obedience to his father's repeated summons. The death of his wife had rendered his society still more necessary to the old gentleman.
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