| | 41 | Author: | Thompson
Daniel P.
(Daniel Pierce)
1795-1868 | Add | | | Title: | Locke Amsden, The schoolmaster  | | | | 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, contrary perhaps to fashionable precedent,
opens at a common farm-house, situated on one of the principal
roads leading through the interior of the northerly
portion of the Union. It was near the middle of the day,
in that part of the spring season when the rough and chill
features of winter are becoming so equally blended with the
soft and mild ones of summer upon the face of nature, that
we feel at loss in deciding whether the characteristics of the
one or the other most prevail. The hills were mostly bare,
but their appearance was not that of summer; and the tempted
eye turned away unsatisfied from the cheerless prospect which
their dreary and frost-blackened sides presented. The levels,
on the other hand, were still covered with snow; and yet their
aspect was not that of winter. Clumps of willows, scattered
along the hedges, or around the waste-places of the meadows,
were white with the starting buds or blossoms of spring.
The old white mantle of the frost-king was also becoming
sadly dingy and tattered. Each stump and stone was enclosed
by a widening circle of bare ground; while the tops
of the furrows, peering through the dissolving snows, were
beginning to streak, with long, faint, dotted lines, the self-disclosing
plough-fields. The cattle were lazily ruminating
in the barn-yard, occasionally lowing and casting a wistful
glance at the bare hills around, but without offering to move
towards them, as if they thought that the prospects there
were hardly sufficient to induce them yet to leave their
winter quarters. The earth-loving sheep, however, had
broken from their fold, and, having reached the borders of
the hills by some partially trod path, were busily nibbling at
the roots of the shriveled herbage, unheedful of the bleating
cries of their feebler companions, that they had left stuck in
the treacherous snow-drifts, encountered in their migrations
from one bare patch to another. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 46 | Author: | Thorpe
Thomas Bangs
1815-1878 | Add | | | Title: | The mysteries of the backwoods, or, Sketches of the
Southwest | | | | 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: | We have wandered over the Louisiana prairies,
our little pony, like an adventurous bark, seemingly
trusting itself imprudently beyond the headlands, a
mere speck, moving among the luxuriant islands of
live oak that here and there sit so quietly upon the
rolling waves of vegetation. Myriads of wild geese
would often rise upon our intrusion, helping out the
fancy of being at sea; but the bounding deer, or
wild cattle, that occasionally resented our presence
and rattled off at break-neck pace, kept us firmly on
the land. In the spring seasons, the prairies are
covered with the choicest flowers, that mix with the
young grass in such profusion as to carpet them
more delicately, and more richly, than in the seraglio
of a sultan. Upon this vegetation innumerable
cattle feed and fatten, until they look pampered, and
their skins glisten like silk in the sun. Apparently
wild as the buffalo, they are all marked and numbered,
and in them consist the wealth of the inhabitant
of the prairie. It is easy to imagine that herdsmen
of such immense fields live a wild and free life;
ever on horseback, like the Arabs, they have no
fear save when out of the saddle, and nature has
kindly provided a “steed” that boasts of no particular
blood, that may be called the “yankee” of his
kind, because it never tires, never loses its energy,
and makes a living and grows fat, where all else
of its species would starve. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 48 | Author: | Tucker
Beverley
1784-1851 | Add | | | Title: | George Balcombe | | | | 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, issuing from the wood, I entered a
prairie, more beautiful than any I had yet seen.
The surface, gently undulating, presented innumerable
swells, on which the eye might rest with
pleasure. Many of these were capped with
clumps and groves of trees, thus interrupting the
dull uniformity which generally wearies the traveller
in these vast expanses. I gazed around for
a moment with delight but soon found leisure
to observe that my road had become alarmingly
indistinct. It is easy, indeed, to follow the faintest
trace through a prairie. The beaten track, however
narrow, wears a peculiar aspect, which makes
it distinguishable even at a distance. But the name
of Arlington, the place of my destination, denoted
at least a village; while the tedious path which I
was travelling seemed more like to terminate in
the midst of the prairie, than to lead to a public
haunt of men. I feared I had missed my way, and
looked eagerly ahead for some traveller, who might
set me right, if astray. But I looked in vain.
The prairie lay before me, a wide waste, without
one moving object. The sun had just gone down;
and as my horse, enlivened by the shade and the
freshness of evening, seemed to recover his mettle,
I determined to push on to such termination as my
path might lead to. “I wrote you, under date of March tenth, that
the bill remitted by you for one thousand dollars,
drawn by Edward Montague on the house of
Tompkins and Todd of this city, had been paid
by a draft on Bell and Brothers of Liverpool, England.
This draft I remitted, according to your
directions, to my friend John Ferguson, of the
house of Ferguson and Partridge, our correspondents
there, with instructions to obtain, if possible,
from the same house, a draft on the county of
Northumberland. In this he succeeded, by procuring
a draft on Edward Raby, Esq. of that
county, for a like amount. “A draft drawn by Edward Montague, Esq.,
for one thousand dollars, was this day presented,
and paid by us in pursuance of your standing instructions. “The draft of Messrs. Tompkins and Todd, on
account of Mr. Montague's annuity, is to hand, and
has been duly honoured. “Among the crosses of a wayward destiny, it
is not the least, that for so many years I have lost
all trace of the only man on earth to whom I
could look for kindness or sympathy. Since accident
has discovered to me your residence, I have
felt as if fate might have in store for me some
solace for a life of poverty and disgrace. For the
last, indeed, there is no remedy; for the opinion
of others cannot stifle the voice of self-reproach,
nor deaden the sense of merited dishonour. But,
bad as these are, (and they are enough to poison
all enjoyment, to extinguish all hope, and to turn
the very light of heaven into blackness,) they may
be rendered more intolerable by the cold scorn of
the world, by the unappeased wants of nature, and
by the constant view of sufferings, brought by ourselves
on those we love. This complication of
evil has been my lot; and if one ray of comfort
has ever shot into my benighted mind, it came with
the thought, that he who knew me best knew all
my fault, but did not think me vile. But what
reason have I to think this? Why may not the
misconstruction, which conscience has denied me
power to correct, have reached you uncontradicted?
How can I hope that you have not been
told, that the lip, on which, with your last blessing,
you left the kiss of pure, and generous, and ill-requited
love, has not been since steeped in the
pollution of a villain's breath? All this may have
been told you. All this you may believe. But,
whatever else may be credited against me, you
will never doubt my truth. No, George; the fearful
proof I once gave that I am incapable of deception,
is not forgotten. Take, then, my single
word, against all the world can say, that that hallowed
kiss `my lip has virgined' to this hour.
VOL. I.—M.
Except the cold and clammy brow of my dying
father, no touch of man has since invaded it; nor
has one smile profaned it, since in that moment I
consecrated it to virtue. “It is not the purpose of this letter to reproach
you with your crimes, or to degrade myself by
fruitless complaint of the wretchedness they have
brought upon me. My weak voice can add no
terrors to the thunders of conscience. The history
of my sufferings would be superfluous. So
far as you are capable of comprehending them, you
already know them. The want of the necessaries
of life you can appreciate. Of the sting of self-reproach
to a conscience not rendered callous by
crime, of the deep sense of irreparable dishonour,
of the misery of witnessing distress brought by
our fault on those we love, you can form no conception. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 49 | Author: | Tucker
Beverley
1784-1851 | Add | | | Title: | George Balcombe | | | | 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: | We now approached the seat of justice for
— county, and as we mingled in the crowd of
countrymen flocking to the same point, our conversation
was necessarily interrupted. I soon saw
that Balcombe was distinguished, and that he was
an object of interest and curiosity, which was
painful to me. By him it seemed to be unmarked,
and he moved on with a countenance of
quiet serenity, as a man familiar with notoriety,
and secure of himself “Your extraordinary communication of the 15th
ultimo is before me. In answering it I find myself
under the necessity of adverting to much
more than it contains; and I shall do so fully, because
I find it necessary to make you understand
distinctly the relation between us. “Let me indulge a hope that the sight of my
name at the bottom of this letter may not prevent
you from reading it. Having hitherto received
nothing at my hands but what, to you at least, appeared
to be injustice, I cannot expect to engage
your attention to what I am about to say, without
first assuring you that the purpose of this letter is
altogether friendly. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 50 | Author: | Tucker
Beverley
1784-1851 | Add | | | Title: | The partisan leader | | | | 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: | Poor Arthur! B— had predicted too truly that
his heart would have some hankerings at the thought
of leaving the house where he had, of late, spent so
many pleasant hours. It is so long that I have said
nothing about him, that the reader may think him
forgotten, or may, himself, have forgotten that there
was such a person. He had, in truth, no part in the
transactions of which we have been speaking. He
was at that time of life when the mind, chameleon
like, takes its hue from surrounding objects. He
was too young to be advised with, or trusted with
important secrets. I have already mentioned that,
on the day of the election, he had been detained at
home by indisposition. But he had heard of the occurrences
of that day; and he was, moreover, unconsciously
exposed to influences from every member of
the family, all tending to the same point. Least apparent,
but not least efficacious, was that of his cousin
Lucia. They were of that age when hearts, soft
and warm, grow together by mere contact. With
thought of love, but without thinking of it, they had
become deeply enamored of each other. The thing
came about so simply and so naturally, that the result
alone needs to be told. Sir: I have the honor to lay before your Excellency
an account of the operations of the troops
under my command, since the date of my last despatch. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 51 | Author: | Tuckerman
Henry T.
(Henry Theodore)
1813-1871 | Add | | | Title: | Isabel, or, Sicily | | | | 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: | There is, perhaps, no approach to the old world
more impressive to the transatlantic voyager, than
the Straits of Gibraltar. The remarkable promontory
which rises abruptly before him, is calculated to
interest his mind, wearied with the monotony of sea-life,
not less as an object of great natural curiosity
than from the historical circumstances with which it
is associated. Anciently deemed the boundary of
the world, it was fabled, that at this point Europe
and Africa were united until riven asunder by Hercules,
forming the south-western extremity of Andalusia,
and long occupied as a Moorish fortress, it
awakens the many romantic impressions which embalm
the history of Spain; constituting, as it were,
the gate of the Mediterranean, the comer from the
new world cannot pass its lofty and venerable form,
without feeling that he has left the ocean whose
waters lave his native shore, and entered a sea
hallowed by the annals of antiquity, and renowned
for scenes of southern luxuriance and beauty. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 52 | Author: | Tyler
Royall
1757-1826 | Add | | | Title: | The Algerine captive, or, The life and adventures of Doctor Updike Underhill | | | | 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: | MINISTER OF THE UNITED STATES AT THE
COURT OF LISBON, $C. I derive my birth from one
of the first emigrants to New England,
being lineally descended from Captain
John Underhill, who came into the Massachusetts
in the year one thousand six
hundred and thirty; of whom honourable
mention is made by that elegant, accurate,
and interesting historian, the Reverend
Jeremy Belknap, in his History of New
Hampshire. Remembrin my kind love to Mr. Hilton,
I now send you some note of my
tryalls at Boston.—Oh that I may come
out of this, and al the lyke tryalls, as
goold sevene times puryfyed in the furnice. Them there very extraordinary pare
of varses, you did yourself the onner to
address to a young lada of my partecling
acquaintance calls loudly for explination.
I shall be happy to do myself
the onner of wasting a few charges of
powder with you on the morro morning
precisely at one half hour before sun rose
at the lower end of — wharff. We saluted the castle with
seven guns, which was returned with
three, and then entered within the immense
pier, which forms the port. The
prisoners, thirty in number, were conveyed
to the castle, where we were received
with great parade by the Dey's
troops or cologlies, and guarded to a
heavy strong tower of the castle. The
Portuguese prisoners, to which nation
the Algerines have the most violent antipathy,
were immediately, with every
mark of contempt, spurned into a dark
dungeon beneath the foundations of the
tower, though there were several merchants
of eminence, and one young nobleman,
in the number. The Spaniards,
whom the Dey's subjects equally detest,
and fear more, were confined with me in
a grated room, on the second story. We
received, the same evening, rations similar
to what, we understood, were issued
to the garrison. The next day, we were
all led to a cleansing house, where we
were cleared from vermin, our hair cut
short, and our beards close shaved; thence
taken to a bath, and, after being well
bathed, we were clothed in coarse linen
drawers, a strait waistcoat of the same
without sleeves, and a kind of tunic or
loose coat over the whole, which, with a
pair of leather slippers, and a blue cotton
cap, equipped us, as we were informed,
to appear in the presence of the Dey,
who was to select the tenth prisoner from
us in person. The next morning, the
dragomen or interpreters, were very busy
in impressing upon us the most profound
respect for the Dey's person and
power, and teaching us the obeisance necessary
to be made in our approaches to this
august potentate. Soon after, we were
paraded; and Captain Hamed presented
each of us with a paper, written in a base
kind of Arabic, describing, as I was informed,
our persons, names, country, and
conditions in life; so far as our captors
could collect from our several examinations.
Upon the back of each paper was
a mark or number. The same mark was
painted upon a flat oval piece of wood,
somewhat like a painter's palette, and suspended
by a small brass chain to our
necks, hanging upon our breasts. The
guards then formed a hollow square.
We were blind folded until we passed
the fortifications, and then suffered to
view the city, and the immense rabble,
which surrounded us, until we came to
the palace of the Dey. Here, after much
military parade, the gates were thrown
open, and we entered a spacious court
yard, at the upper end of which the Dey
was seated, upon an eminence, covered
with the richest carpeting fringed with
gold. A circular canopy of Persian silk
was raised over his head, from which
were suspended curtains of the richest
embroidery, drawn into festoons by silk
cords and tassels, enriched with pearls.
Over the eminence, upon the right and
left, were canopies, which almost vied in
B 2
riches with the former, under which stood
the Mufri, his numerous Hadgi's, and
his principal officers, civil and military;
and on each side about seven hundred
foot guards were drawn up in the form
of a half moon. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 53 | Author: | Tyler
Royall
1757-1826 | Add | | | Title: | The Yankey in London | | | | 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: | ACCEPT my warmest thanks for the
letters of introduction you presented me
at parting, and for those transmitted me
by the ship Union; and suffer me, through
you, to make my grateful acknowledgments
to Mr. G. for his very friendly
proffer of making me known to some
“excellent English friends.”—I do assure
you, very few of our countrymen have
left in London such favourable impressions
of the American character as that
gentleman. Indeed, all our United States'
agents have done honour to our national
diplomacy: among them Mr. K. and Mr.
G. will be long distinguished; the former
for the classical elegance of his bureau
address, the latter for his commercial
science—and both for that dignified, polished
demeanour which European gentlemen
will hardly admit can be attained
without the tour of that continent. I
ought, in justice, to observe, that our present
envoy is a gentleman highly esteemed
for the suavity of his manners, and respected
for his adherence to the commercial
rights of his nation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 55 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Letters of Lucius M. Piso, from Palmyra, to his friend Marcus Curtius at Rome | | | | 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: | As I returned from the worship of the Christians to
the house of Gracchus, my thoughts wandered from the
subjects which had just occupied my mind, to the condition
of the country, and the prospect now growing more
and more portentous of an immediate rupture with
Rome. On my way I passed through streets of more
than Roman magnificence, exhibiting all the signs of
wealth, taste, refinement, and luxury. The happy, lighthearted
populace were moving through them, enjoying at
their leisure the calm beauty of the evening, or hastening
to or from some place of festivity. The earnest tone of
conversation, the loud laugh, the witty retort, the merry
jest, fell upon my ear from one and another as I passed
along. From the windows of the palaces of the merchants
and nobles, the rays of innumerable lights
streamed across my path, giving to the streets almost the
brilliancy of day; and the sound of music, either of
martial instruments, or of the harp accompanied by the
voice, at every turn arrested my attention, and made me
pause to listen. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 56 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Probus, or, Rome in the third century | | | | 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 record which follows, is by the hand of me,
Nichomachus, once the happy servant of the great Queen
of Palmyra, than whom the world never saw a queen
more illustrious, nor a woman adorned with brighter virtues.
But my design is not to write her eulogy, nor recite
the wonderful story of her life. That task requires
a stronger and a more impartial hand than mine. The
life of Zenobia by Nichomachus, would be the portrait
of a mother and a divinity, drawn by the pen of a child
and a worshipper. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 57 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Probus, or, Rome in the third century | | | | 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: | Marcus and Lucilia are inconsolable. Their grief,
I fear, will be lasting as it is violent. They have no
resource but to plunge into affairs and drive away memory
by some active and engrossing occupation. Yet
they cannot always live abroad; they must at times
return to themselves and join the company of their own
thoughts. And then memory is not to be put off; at
such moments this faculty seems to constitute the mind
more than any other. It becomes in a manner the mind
itself. The past rises up in spite of ourselves, and overshadows
the present. Whether its scenes have been
prosperous or afflictive, but especially if they have been
shameful, do they present themselves with all the vividness
of the objects before us and the passing hour, and
minister to our joy or increase our pains. We in vain
attempt to escape. We are prisoners in the hands of a
giant. To forget is not in our power. The will is impotent.
The effort to forget is often but an effort to remember.
Fast as we fly, so fast the enemy of our peace
pursues. Memory is a companion who never leaves us
— or never leaves us long. It is the true Nemesis.
Tartarean regions have no worse woes, nor the Hell of
Christians, than memory inflicts upon those who have
done evil. My friends struggle in vain. They have
not done evil indeed, but they have suffered it. The
sorest calamity that afflicts mortals has overtaken them;
their choicest jewel has been torn from them; and they
can no more drown the memory of their loss than they
can take that faculty itself and tear it from their souls.
Comfort cannot come from that quarter. It can come
only from being re-possessed of that which has been lost
hereafter and from enjoying the hope of that felicity now.
See how Marcus writes. After much else he says, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 58 | Author: | Ware
William
1797-1852 | Add | | | Title: | Julian, or Scenes in Judea | | | | 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: | Praise to the God of Abraham. The locusts
are flown. The land which they found flourishing
and verdant as a garden, they have
changed to the barrenness of a desert. The
cities and the villages, but now so full of people,
are become the region of desolation and
death. Even the very city and house of God
are level with the dust, and the ploughshare
has gone over them. And here, upon the hill
of Olives, I sit, a living witness of the ruin.
By reason of the wonderful compassions of God,
which never fail, I am escaped as a bird from
the net of the fowler. Yet I take little joy in
this. For why should the days of one like me
be lengthened out, when the mighty and excellent
of the land are cut off? I rather rejoice
in this, that the spoiler is gone; the armies of
the alien have ceased to devour; and they
who are fled, and hidden in caves and dens
of the rocks, may come forth again to inhabit
the land and build up the waste places.
A multitude, which no man could number, have
fallen before the edge of the sword, or by famine,
and the air is full of the pestilential vapors
that steam up from their rotting carcases. But
a greater multitude remains; and it may well
be that ere many years have passed, they shall
fill the land as before, and gathered into one by
him who, though long delaying, will come, pay
back, and more, the measure they have received.
That time will surely come. Even as the
Assyrian could not finally destroy, but the hand
of the Almighty was put forth, and the city
and the temple grew again from their ruins
to a greater glory than before, so shall it be now.
The Roman triumph shall be short. Messiah
shall yet appear; and Jerusalem clothed in her
beautiful garments shall sit upon her hills, the
joy and crown of the whole earth. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 59 | Author: | Whittier
John Greenleaf
1807-1892 | Add | | | Title: | Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9 | | | | 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: | “Dear Friend: I salute thee with much love from
this new Countrie, where the Lord hath spread a table
for us in the Wilderness. Here is a goodlie companie
of Friends, who doe seek to know the mind of Truth,
and to live thereby, being held in favor and esteem by
the Rulers of the Land, and soe left in Peace to worship
God according to their consciences. The whole
Countrie being covered with Snow, and the Weather
being extreme cold, we can scarce say much of the
natural gifts and advantages of our new Home; but it
lyeth on a small River, and there be fertile Meadowes
and old Cornfields of the Indians, and good Springs of
Water, soe that I am told it is a desirable and pleasing
place in the warm season. My soul is full of Thankfulness;
and a sweet inward Peace is my portion.
Hard things are made easie to me; this desert place,
with its lonelie Woods and wintry Snows, is beautiful
in mine eyes. For here we be no longer gazing-stocks
of the rude Multitude, we are no longer haled from our
Meetings, and rayled upon as Witches and possessed
People. Oh! how often have we been called upon
heretofore to repeat the prayer of one formerlie —
`Let me not fall into the hands of man.' Sweet,
beyond the power of words to express, hath been the
change in this respect; and in view of the Mercies
vouchsafed unto us, what can we do but repeat the
language of David? — `Praise is comelie; yea, a joyful
and pleasant thing it is to be thankful. It is a good
thing to give thanks unto the Lord, to sing praises unto
thy Name, O Most High! to show forth thy loving
kindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every
night.' | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 60 | Author: | EDITED BY N. P. WILLIS. | Add | | | Title: | The legendary | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | `It is, I believe, or should be, a maxim of the
true church, that confession of a sin is the first step
towards its expiation. `When you receive this letter, your three sons will
be no more. Frederic de Lancey is the bearer of it.
He has done our dear Edward a signal service, and I
have thought him trustworthy to convey to Alice the
picture of my mother. My heart bleeds when I think
of you, without one prop for your old age, save our innocent
and helpless sister. We are all satisfied De
Lancey would be a faithful son to you if you will permit
him to be. In case of his death tomorrow—and the
chances of war are alike to all—he has bequeathed to
us all he is worth, and it is the earnest wish of my
brothers as well as myself, that if he should be the only
survivor, you would adopt him; and if he and sister
Alice should fancy each other, that he may become a
son in reality. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
|
