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41Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Forrestal, or, The light of the reef  
 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 loftier turrets of the Moro Castle were still sheathed with gold, from the reflection of the setting sun, while its embrasures and bastions lower down — its walls, still lower — and the harbor and town, far beneath, lay in the soft shadows of the first tremulous twilight. A moment more, and the last sunbeam disappeared, like a blaze suddenly extinguished, from the topmost pinnacle of the cloud-capped fortress; and the simultaneous roar of a heavy piece of ordnance, from the platform of the Castle, told the world of Havana that the sun had set.
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42Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Harry Harefoot  
 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: Our story opens on one of those singularly beautiful mornings which the coast of New-England presents in the month of August, when the fogs, having for some time resisted the unclouded splendor of the sun's rays, begin to lift and break, and roll seaward in majestic volumes, ascending as they move, until they rest in the calm blue bosom of heaven. My Dear Son Harry,—Your last letter gave us all at home a great deal of joy. I was gratified at your affectionate remembrance of me in sending the pretty cap, and I gave your love to little Emma Cutter, as you desired. She is knitting for you a purse she wants me to send you with our first package. I am happy to find you are so well pleased with your place, my son, and that Mr. Cushing is so well satisfied with you. You have only now, my dear boy, to do your duty to be respected. Never consider any thing beneath you which you are required by Mr. Cushing or the upper clerks to perform. Pride has ruined many young men who set out in life as prosperously as you have. Try and cultivate a kind demeanor, pleasing manners, and a frank and unsuspicious bearing; but as true politeness proceeds from grace in the heart, you must first cultivate that. Do not omit reading in the little Bible I wrote your name in, once a day, nor never neglect committing yourself in prayer to your heavenly Father when you go to bed nor thanking Him in grateful adoration when you rise up. Seek humbly his guidance through the day, and you will have it. There is no real good or true happiness that does not first originate in duty to our Maker. Avoid profane speech, impure language, and telling impure anecdotes, for they corrupt the heart. Spend your evenings at home in reading or writing, and your Sabbaths in the fear of God, going twice to church. Never break the Sabbath on any pretence! Let it be a holy day to you through life. Avoid the society of all young men whose character you do not know to be good; but it is best to have few companions and but one or two friends. Have no desire to go to the play, to parties, to frolies, and other scenes of temptation, and never without permission from Mr. Cushing, who is now to be in our place to you. Above all, my son, never touch a drop of wine. O that I could impress, as with a seal, this caution upon your heart—engraft it upon your mind. The sword has slain its thousands, but wine its tens of thousands. You must bear with me, Henry, for giving you such a grave letter of advice, but I have your welfare closely united to my heart, and I know that you are surrounded with temptations, and that you need not only a mother's love, but God's arm to guard and detend you. One thing more, Henry. You have, I know, a fondness for the society and admiration of young ladies. This at home in our quiet village was, perhaps well enough, as it improves the manners of youths to associate early in life with respectable young females. But in Boston there are, I blush to say, classes of females here unknown, who, with lovely countenances, and wearing alluring smiles, are dangerous for young men to know. `Their house,' saith the seventh of Proverbs. where she is described, `is the way to hell, going down to the chamber of death. Let not thine heart incline to her ways, go not astray in her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded; yea, many strong men have been slain by her.'
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43Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Henry Howard, or, Two noes make one yes  
 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 
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44Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Marie, or, The fugitive  
 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 autumnal moon had already been risen a full hour, as a horseman drew rein upon the summit of a hill which commanded a prospect of the domes and towers of the city towards which he was journeying. He paused a moment as he attained the brow of the eminence over which his road wound, to survey the scene spread out before him. I have decided on my course. Flight is my only safety.— Farewell forever! Do not attempt to seek out my retreat! It will be in vain. I fly to bury my woe in the grave—my infamy from the eyes of the world—to save the honor and spare the sacrifice of a noble heart and love devoted as it is pure! For my sake spare him and be kind, I do not ask your forgiveness for I feel that I am the only one wronged!—wronged, alas—how deeply wronged! Blame not her! She but did a duty sacred and imperative! Censure not— curse not as I have heard thee curse the insensible dead! Deep is the injury that thou hast done, irreparable and which naught but death can heal. To this I fly, not seeking it by my own hand, oh, no! my poor breaking heart will soon bring it me! Farewell. I address you at New York as you desired me in your letter from Mahon. For that kind letter I send you my warmest thanks. It is like yourself and breathes that noble affection which has made you the idol of my heart. The days, weeks and months seem very long for I count them by the throbbings of my heart, which is my only measure of time while you are absent from me I think my father is now reconciled to our union, and I heard him speak with great commendation and a sort of pride, that gratified me very much, of your courage and noble forgetfulness of self, in saving the lives of the three English officers and that of those of the Prince and Princess di Luzzi, in the squall which struck their boat after it left the frigate for the shore.— The papers are full of it, though you make no mention of it yourself. This, too, is so like you. I cannot be too grateful to Heaven for your preservation at such a time of imminent peril and confusion, and also for placing it in your power to do so noble an act; for your fame and praises are mine, dear Bertrand! `Madness! This is unendurable! I have no patience to complete this letter! I feel as if I could fly to him this moment. Poor Marie! Noble and true Marie! If that de Rosselau does not answer for all this—but, patience. I must read more and know all before I can stir a step! Oh, that I could embrace the contents of the remainder of the letter at a glance of thought.' —`I did not leave my room till the next morning, nothwithstanding my father came repeatedly at the door to summon me; but pleading illness I refused to admit him or obey his commands. He threatened me; but I would gladly have been locked up in the darkest and loneliest room of the villa than have met de Rosselau. But believing in the morning that he had gone, for I had been told so by my maid, I went out to breakfast. I found him standing with my father in the breakfast-room. My first impulse was to fly. My next and best was to remain and chill him by my manner. I had before found this most successful, and I now assumed this bearing; and during breakfast I neither saw nor heard him speak. His chair might as well have been empty, for I took no notice that any one occupied it. My father was very angry and the breakfast passed off gloomily; but I felt that I was the victorious one. `I beg you will not refuse to read with your beautiful eyes (Bertrand. The devil confound him!) the few profound sentiments of my heart, I have the honor to give expression to in consideration of the deep passion I entertain for you. Be assured, Madamoisille, that it has never been my felicitous fate to meet with one of your divine sex who has succeded in imprisoning my heart so completely as you have done! Yes, admirable Marie! (the foul fiend take him!) I have had but one thought since I beheld you, and that is to make myself agreeable to you, that I may win that cruel heart which already has captivated mine. I assure you I have taken no offence at your proud and cold indifference, but on the contrary, your coldness has increased the flame of my devotion! May I hope that my sincerity may meet at least with some degree of grace from you, for you are too beautiful to be a tyrant! (I'll make him eat this letter!) It is my highest ambition to make you the Countess de Rosselau, a rank to which some of the haughtiest beauties I say it without vanity, of dear enchanting Paris have aspired to in vain! At your feet, where I have already laid my heart, I am desirous of laying the honors of my name and rank. Your father's consent I have been so fortunate as to obtain, and I only await your condescension to my suit, trusting that I shall not have sued in vain. Your devoted and humble lover, who kisses your hand with the profoundest adoration, `I took no notice of this note, Bertrand, and indeed should have sent it back unopened, but I wished to know what it was he had to say, and to ascertain, if possible, how far this persecution was to be carried; for I had made up my mind to escape from it by flight, I knew not whither, if he should continue it. `What I am now to add, my dear Edward,' said the maiden in her letter, will show you how fully matured was the conspiracy against my happiness and peace, planned between my misguided father and this unfeeling Baron de Rosselau. After he had entered my room, and locked the door as I have already said in the beginning of my letter, he sat for a few moments in silence as if not knowing in what way to open the subject upon his mind. At length he raised his eyes and said, `After half an hour's weeping for you as well as for me, dear Bertrand, I resolved I would write to you the whole that had transpired, knowing that you were soon to be back from the Mediterranean, and hoping that my letter may find you in New York in time for you to fly to rescue from a two fold danger her who lives only for you. I have, therefore, been sitting up half the night writing the foregoing, while my father believes that I sleep. Two days more remain. Vague ideas of flight enter my mind—but I ask myself whither shall I fly? How should I escape from my father's careful watch, or the no less watchful scrutiny of de Rosselau' I shall soon decide upon something. I will close my long letter now, for the morning dawns, and my father will soon be here to unlock my door and ask me if I have changed my mind and am ready for the sacrifice. I shall secretly despatch this letter to the office by my faithful servant Moses. I will not seal it till I can send it away, and will add a postscript telling you what I decide upon. `P. S.—Four o'clock, P. M. I shall make no apology for this communication. I address you upon a subject of the deepest interest to me. I am not ignorant of your aspirations to the hand and fortune of my daughter; nor am I ignorant that you have been successful in inspiring in her bosom a temporary regard for you. Whatever may have been my former forbearance in suffering this attachment to go on unchecked, circumstances, not at all affecting your character, sir, render it necessary that I request you to terminate all further views in relation to a union with her. This is her desire as well as my own; and it is not therefore necessary to inform you that all letters which you may have the imprudence to address to her will be returned, and that my doors will be closed to any visits that have Marie for their object. `What can this mean?' he exclaimed in astonishment. `Marie to address me thus. This is certainly her hand-writing, and at the end of it' (and here he rapidly ran over the pages of the letter to the close) and here is her signature `Marie.' What can this mean? It is signed simply `Marie' without one word of affection. Nay. It is `your unfortunate and lost, Marie.' What fearful news have I now to hear. She can be lost to me only by being the wife of this baron Can it——Oh, can it be possible that she has——but I will not drive myself mad by anticipation. I will hasten to learn the worst.'
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45Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Norman, or, The privateersman's bride  
 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 readers of the nautical romance entitled `Freemantle, or the Privateersman,' to which the present story is a sequel, will remember that the narrative closed with the landing of Freemantle and the passengers of the Indiaman at the villa of Colonel Hood, while the Indiaman stood on towards the port of Boston. The disabled and defeated corvette at the same time, it will be remembered, was making the best of her way towards Halifax, closely followed off soundings by the Privateer, which then had orders to put back into port. I heard of your illness at Macao. I could not remain there while you where perhaps dying among strangers. I am here without your door—protected by an unperceptible disguise. I have come to nurse you. Do not be alarmed for my safety. I am disguised as a Ceylonese clerk. I pray you send for me to come in that I may be with you.'
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46Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Rafael  
 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 was towards the close of a summery afternoon in October, 1840, that the U. S. schooner of war, Dolphin, was riding at anchor in the port of Key-West. Around her were several ships, brigs and schooners which a gale of the preceding night had driven in for shelter. One of them was the packet ship on which I had taken passage sixteen days before at New York for New Orleans; and as she had lost her fore-topmast and received some other injuries which it would take some days to repair, I accepted the invitation of the lieutenant commanding the armed schooner to take a three days cruise with him across the channel to Cuba.
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47Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Scarlet Feather, or, The young chief of the Abenaquies  
 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 young chieftain Natanis stood in front of his hunting-lodge leaning upon his bow. Tall and noble in person, and in his attitude commanding, yet graceful, he looked like a young Apollo just returned from the chase. At his feet lay a doe with a freshly oozing wound in her soft white breast, and upon the ground by his side crouched, panting, a huge black wolf-dog.
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48Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  The clipper-yacht, or, Moloch, the money-lender!  
 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: On a mid-summer's evening so long ago as the year 1803, a King's Yacht was laying at anchor in the river Thames, a cable's length below the tower of London. The twilight was still early, the glow of sunset yet diffusing a rich blush over the warm, hazy skies. The confused hum of the vast city rolled over the water mingled with the deep tones of a bell from some distant tower. A thin, dreamy-looking mist enveloped like a veil of gauze the thousand masts that densely crowded the piers, and half-obscured the spires and turrets scarce less numerous. Above the place where the yacht lay, there stretched, in majestic arches, the series of noble bridges that span the Thames, their avenues thronged with multitudes passing and repassing on foot and in carriges. The sound of feet and wheels in their ceaseless passage fell upon the ear louder than the roar of the opposed current of the river, as it rushed like the rapids of a mountain stream between the strong arches beneath. `May it please your majesty, it is with regret I have to inform your majesty that in consequence of an accident which last night occurred to the yacht by the carelessness of a coal-barge skipper, whereby my bowsprit was carried away and other damage done which it will take three or four days to repair, it is out of my power to render obedience to your majesty's commands last night received. I await your majesty's further pleasure. I shall depart in one hour for the Tower and go on board, or rather, be taken, en masque as the prisoner of state, on board the yacht with my party of Police-men! Sir John informs me that the repairs are already completed, and that the schooner will be ready to sail, down the river with the first turn of the tide. Then getting Tudor to anchor under the guns of the frigate at the mouth, we can dictate our own terms to him!— Tudor has not yet been on board; but I have ascertained that he made his appearance at the Bank at noon and called for the draft holding the amount in notes in his open pocket-book. The cashier who suspects nothing, voluntarily informed me as I entered the banking-house, that he had come to take up the draft, not knowing that it was paid already. `When I told him that your grace had taken it up in person,' said the banker to me, `he said that it was all very well; that you had given him the funds to take it up, as he was coming into town, not expecting to be in London yourself!' The writer has positive evidence that the plot you have arranged for the purpose of banishing your son from England, is known to him through means of a letter taken from your table to-day. In a word, the person who returned the letter to you was no other than your son, lord Tudor, disguised as a peasant. He returned the letter to lull all suspicions of his having learned the contents. His object in being in disguise near your palace was to get early intelligence respecting the fate of the forged draft your grace held!
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49Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  The cruiser of the mist  
 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: On one of those brilliant mornings peculiar to the early autumnal days, when the atmosphere is like chrystal in transparency, and the skies are turgid with their leepest blue, two persons stood together upon an eminence that commanded the Bay of Raritan and a wide expanse of the ocean horizon to the eastward. “The pirate schooner known as `The Cruiser of the Mist,' is at this moment off Sandy Hook laying to! Ride to the head of the island with all haste, and take a boat to the sloop-of-war Franklin. Tell the captain, if he gets underweigh at once, he may capture her! Delay not a moment, if you love your country or your brother,
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50Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  The knights of seven lands  
 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: At the close of a summer's day, sometime near the end of the fourteenth century, a party of young knights, seven in number, were returning to their several countries from attending a great tournament held in the lists of the Moorish palace of the Alhambra, then occupied by John, king of Castile. This tournament was held in honor of the nuptials of the Prince with the Infanta, and from its magnificence had drawn together the flower of the chivalry of many lands. The company of knights alluded to, consisted of one of Spain, whose castle lay northward, near the Pyrennees; one of France; one of England; one of Germany; one of Rome; of a Scottish knight, and a knight of Venice, all journeying homeward from the jousts, with their esquires and retinues.
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51Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  The seven knights, or, Tales of many lands  
 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: At the close of a summer's day, sometime near the end of the fourteenth century, a party of young knights, seven in number, were returning to their several countries from attending a great tournament held in the lists of the Moorish palace of the Alhambra, then occupied by John, king of Castile. This tournament was held in honor of the nuptials of the Prince with the Infanta, and from its magnificence had drawn together the flower of the chivalry of many lands. The company of knights alluded to, consisted of one of Spain, whose castle lay northward, near the Pyrennees; one of France; one of England; one of Germany; one of Rome; of a Scottish knight, and a knight of Venice, all journeying homeward from the jousts, with their esquires and retinues.
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52Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Burton, or, The sieges  
 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 
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53Author:  Brown Charles Brockden 1771-1810Requires cookie*
 Title:  Edgar Huntly, Or, Memoirs of a Sleep-walker  
 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 likewise burned with impatience to know the condition of my family, to dissipate at once their tormenting doubts and my own, with regard to our mutual safety. The evil that I feared had befallen them was too enormous to allow me to repose in suspense, and my restlessness and ominous forebodings would be more intolerable than any hardship or toils to which I could possibly be subjected during this journey.
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54Author:  Flint Timothy 1780-1840Requires cookie*
 Title:  Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot  
 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 the autumn of this year I set out from Massachusetts for the remote regions of the southwest on the Spanish frontier, where I reside. When I entered the steam-boat from Philadelphia to Baltimore, having taken a general survey of the motley group, which is usually seen in such places, my eye finally rested on a young gentleman, apparently between twenty-five and thirty, remarkable for his beauty of face, the symmetry of his fine form, and for that uncommon union of interest, benevolence, modesty, and manly thought, which are so seldom seen united in a male countenance of great beauty. The idea of animal magnetism, I know, is exploded. I, however, retain my secret belief in the invisible communication between minds, of something like animal magnetism and repulsion. I admit that this electric attraction of kindred minds at first sight, and antecedent to acquaintance, is inexplicable. The world may laugh at the impression, if it pleases. I have, through life, found myself attracted, or repelled at first sight, and oftentimes without being able to find in the objects of these feelings any assignable reason, either for the one or the other. I have experienced, too, that, on after acquaintance, I have very seldom had occasion to find these first impressions deceptive. It is of no use to inquire, if these likes and dislikes be the result of blind and unreasonable prejudice. I feel that they are like to follow me through my course.
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55Author:  Flint Timothy 1780-1840Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Shoshonee Valley  
 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: At Length the south breeze began once more to whisper along the valley, bringing bland airs, spring birds, sea fowls, the deep trembling roar of unchained mountain streams, a clear blue sky, magpies and orioles, cutting the ethereal space, as they sped with their peculiar business note, on the great instinct errand of their Creator to the budding groves. The snipe whistled. The pheasant drummed on the fallen trunks in the deep forest. The thrasher and the robin sang; and every thing, wild and tame, that had life, felt the renovating power, and rejoiced in the retraced footsteps of the great Parent of nature. The inmates of William Weldon's dwelling once more walked forth, in the brightness of a spring morning, choosing their path where the returning warmth had already dried the ground on the south slopes of the hills. The blue and the white violet had already raised their fair faces under the shelter of the fallen tree, or beneath the covert of rocks. The red bud and the cornel decked the wilderness in blossoms; and in the meadows, from which the ice had scarcely disappeared, the cowslips threw up their yellow cups from the water. As they remarked upon the beauty of the day, the cheering notes of the birds, the deep hum of a hundred mountain water-falls, and the exhilarating influence of the renovation of spring, William Weldon observed in a voice, that showed awakened remembrances—`dear friends, you have, perhaps, none of you such associations with this season, as now press upon my thoughts, in remembrances partly of joy and sadness. Hear you those million mingled sounds of the undescribed dwellers in the spring-formed waters? How keenly they call up the fresh recollections of the spring of my youth, and my own country! The winter there, too, is long and severe. What a train of remembrances press upon me! I have walked abroad in the first days of spring.— When yet a child, I was sent to gather the earliest cowslips. I remember my thoughts, when I first dipped my feet in the water, and heard these numberless peeps, croaks, and cries; and thought of the countless millions of living things in the water, which seemed to have been germinated by spring; and which appeared to be emulating each other in the chatter of their ceaseless song. How ye return upon my thoughts, ye bright morning visions! What a fairy creation was life, in such a spring prospect! How changed is the picture, and the hue of the dark brown years, as my eye now traces them in retrospect.— These mingled sounds, this beautiful morning, these starting cowslips, the whole present scene brings back 1* the entire past. Ah! there must be happier worlds beyond the grave, where it is always spring, or the thoughts, that now spring in my bosom, had not been planted there.' Minister of Jesus—A wretch in agony implores you by Him, who suffered for mankind, to have mercy upon him. He extenuates nothing. The vilest outrage and abandonment were his purpose. He confesses, that he deserves the worst. His only plea is, that he was ruined by the doting indulgence of his parents. Luxury and pleasure have enervated him, and he has not the courage to bear pain. Death is horror to him, and Oh, God! Oh, God!—the terrible death of a slow fire. Christ pitied his tormentors. Oh! let Jessy pity me. The agony is greater, than human nature can bear. Oh! Elder Wood, come, and pray with, and for `They have unbound my hands, and furnished me with the means of writing this. They are dancing round the pile, on which I am to suffer by fire. My oath, that I would possess thee, at the expense of death and hell, rings in my ears, as a knell, that would awaken the dead. Oh God! have mercy. Every thing whirls before my eyes, and I can only pray, that you may forget, if you cannot forgive
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56Author:  Herbert Henry William 1807-1858Requires cookie*
 Title:  Ingleborough Hall, and Lord of the manor  
 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 
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57Author:  Herbert Henry William 1807-1858Requires cookie*
 Title:  Tales of the Spanish seas  
 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 
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58Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  The South-west  
 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 
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59Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  The South-west  
 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 
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60Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Lafitte  
 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 
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