Bookbag (0)
Search:
Path::2007_02::uvaBook in subject [X]
2002 in date [X]
Modify Search | New Search
Results:  2 ItemsBrowse by Facet | Title | Author
Sorted by:  
Page: 1
Date
collapse2002
collapse01
01 (2)
1Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  Clovernook, or, Recollections of our neighborhood in the West  
 Published:  2002 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Change is the order of nature; the old makes way for the new; over the perished growth of the last year brighten the blossoms of this. What changes are to be counted, even in a little noiseless life like mine! How many graves have grown green; how many locks have grown gray; how many, lately young, and strong in hope and courage, are faltering and fainting; how many hands that reached eagerly for the roses are drawn back bleeding and full of thorns; and, saddest of all, how many hearts are broken! I remember when I had no sad memory, when I first made room in my bosom for the consciousness of death. How—like striking out from a wilderness of dew-wet blossoms where the shimmer of the light is lovely as the wings of a thousand bees, into an open plain where the clear day strips things to their natural truth—we go from young visions to the realities of life! “Dearest Annie,—I am sitting in a pleasant little room in the Academy; for, you must know, I am become a student. Before me is a table, covered with books, papers, and manuscripts, finished and unfinished. The fire is burning brightly in the grate, and I am content—almost happy. But to whom am I indebted for all this happiness? Ah, Annie! that little package you gave me at parting! How shall I ever repay you? I will not trouble you now by relating my hard experience for two months after leaving you; for, during that time, I did not unseal the package, which I looked at daily, wondering what it could contain, and pleasing myself with various conjectures. At last, one night, I opened it, and, to my joy and sorrow, discovered its contents to be what only the most adverse fortune could have compelled me to avail myself of. But, with a sense of humiliation, I did make use of your self-sacrificing generosity. Dear Annie! what do I not owe to you? I still keep the envelope; and, when I return, I intend to bring you the precise amount, as a bridal present, which you have so kindly, so considerately bestowed on me. Close application, this session, will enable me to teach for a part of the time; so that hereafter I shall be able to rely on myself. I have some glorious plans for the future, but none, Annie, disconnected with you. Every exertion that is made, shall be with reference to the future that must be ours. And do you think of me often? or ever? Ah, I will not wrong you by the inquiry! I know you do. Well, hope on. Time, faith, and energy, will do for us every thing. And is Mary the same merry-hearted girl? I hope so. For my sake, tell her she must love you very kindly. And Samuel—does he miss me, or ever speak of me? He will find some memento, I think, that may serve to remind him of me, in that cabinet of curiosities, the cider-mill. As for Mr. Joseph Heaton, I have no doubt but that he has `kept out of jail.' Forgive me, Annie, that there are persons whose wrongs I can not quite forget. I was greatly edified last Sabbath by a discourse on forgiveness. The clergyman, young and handsome—Mary, I think, would have fallen in love with him—spoke with an earnestness indicating a conviction of the truth of his doctrine, which was, that we are no where in the Scriptures required to forgive our enemies. Even Christ, he said, only prayed for his enemies, inasmuch as they were ignorant: `Forgive them, for they know not what they do.' This idea was curious, and to me new; and I suffered my mind to be relieved, without inquiring very deeply into the theology. Forgive this little episode. I did not intend it, but know that I shall not feel myself bound to forgive you in this world or the next, if you forget to love me. It is night—late—and I must close—not to save candles, Annie, but that some sleep is necessary. I shall perhaps dream of you.” Dear Sir: In compliance with a resolution of the Board of Trustees of the Lancaster School Society, of this city, we have examined, with as much care as the time allowed would permit us to bestow, the series of Grammatic Readers (Nos. I., II., and III.), of Mr. Edward Hazen; and, from such examination, are enabled to say, that the series is well adapted to attain the object Mr. Hazen has had in view in its preparation, viz.: that of enabling the scholar to understand the English language while learning to read it. Dear Sir: We have briefly examined Hazen's Grammatic Readers (Nos. I. and II.), which you kindly presented to us, and believe that they are well calculated for the object which the author has in view. There can be no doubt that children will learn more rapidly a correct pronunciation of words, arranged according to this system, than they will in many of the books which we have in our schools. And there can be no reason why the first principles of grammar may not be taught at the same time that the scholar is learning to read. In short, we think the work worthy of the notice of the friends of popular education.
 Similar Items:  Find
2Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  Clovernook, or, Recollections of our neighborhood in the West  
 Published:  2002 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: We do not suffer our minds to dwell sufficiently on the past. Though now and then there is one who thinks it wise to talk with the hours that are gone, and ask them what report they bore to Heaven, this sort of communion is for the most part imposed as a duty and not felt to be a delight.
 Similar Items:  Find