| | 1 | Author: | unknown | Add | | | Title: | Studies in bibliography  | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | At the opening panel of the 2001 conference of the Society for
Textual Scholarship, some interesting remarks about copy-text
were delivered by John Unsworth, a member of the Modern
Language Association's Committee on Scholarly Editions
(CSE). Unsworth said that he had originally planned to tell his audience
that "the Greg-Bowers theory of editing" or "copy-text theory" had
once enjoyed "hegemony within the CSE," but no longer did, owing to
challenges from outside the Greg-Bowers school, where the focus was on
other "periods, languages, and editorial circumstances." Unsworth submitted
this thesis to Robert H. Hirst, the chair of the CSE at the time,
for his thoughts, and reported receiving the following reply: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 2 | Author: | unknown | Add | | | Title: | A new and comprehensive gazetteer of Virginia, and the District of Columbia | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "I have recently returned from a geological excursion in Virginia. I entered the
state near the head waters of the Potomac, passed thence to Winchester, followed the
course of that fine Valley to the Natural Bridge; retracting my steps, I turned westwardly
at Staunton, crossed the mountain at Jennings' Gap, and visited the justly
celebrated medicinal springs in that region, returning, I went from Staunton through
Charlottesville to Richmond, and down the James to its mouth. When this tour is
taken in connection with a former visit to Wheeling, it will be conceded that I have
seen enough of the state to enable me to form a rough estimate of its geological and
mineralogical importance and I do assure you sir, that although my anticipations
were far from being meagre, I was astonished at the vastness and variety of interesting
objects in that department of natural history, that were constantly developing
themselves, inviting the mind of man to reflection, and his hand to industry, and displaying
at every step the wisdom and benificence of the Great Creater. In answer to your letter of the 29th ult
I have much pleasure in stating, that I
was highly gratified by my excursion to
the Red Sulphur Springs last season. It
was my first visit to that place, and I was
so much pleased with the water, the entertainment
and the scenery, that my stay
was protracted, with enjoyment, for nearly
three weeks. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 3 | Author: | Howe
Henry
1816-1893 | Add | | | Title: | Historical collections of Virginia | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | The term of service for which the Petersburg Volunteers were engaged having expired,
they are permitted to commence their march to Virginia, as soon as they can be
transported to the south side of the lake. George W. Smith, governor, A. B. Venable, president of the bank, Benjamin Botts, wife, and niece,
Mrs. Tayloe Braxton, Mrs. Patterson, Mrs. Gallego, Miss Conyers, Lieut. J. Gibbon, in attempting to save
Miss Conyers; Mrs. E. Page, Miss Louisa Mayo, Mrs. William Cook, Miss Elvina Coutts, Mrs. John Lesley,
Miss M. Nelson, Miss Nelson, Miss Page, Wm. Brown, Miss Julia Hervey, Miss Whitlock, George
Dixon, A. Marshall (of Wythe) broke his neck in attempting to jump from a window, Miss Ann Craig,
Miss Stevenson, (of Spottsylvania,) Mrs. Gibson, Miss Maria Hunter, Mrs. Mary Davis, Miss Gerard,
Thomas Lecroix, Jane Wade, Mrs. Picket, Mrs. Heron, Mrs. Laforest and niece, Jo. Jacobs, Miss Jacobs,
Miss. A. Bausman, Miss M. Marks, Edward Wanton, Jr., two Misses Trouins, Mrs. Gerer, Mrs. Elicott,
Miss Patsey Griffin, Mrs. Moss and daughter, Miss Littlepage, Miss Rebecca Cook, Mrs. Girardin and two
children, Miss Margaret Copeland, Miss Gwathmey, Miss Clay, daughter of M. Clay, member of Congress,
Miss Gatewood, Mrs. Thomas Wilson, Wm. Southgate, Mrs. Robert Greenhow, Mrs. Convert and child,
Miss Green, Miss C. Raphael. Whereas on complaint of Luke Hill in behalf of her Magesty yt. now is agt. Grace
Sherrwood for a peson suspected of withcraft & having had sundey: evidences sworne
agt: her proving many cercumstances & which she could not make any excuse or little
or nothing to say in her own behalf only seemed to rely on wt. ye. Court should doe
& thereupon consented to be tryed in ye. water & likewise to be serched againe wth.
experimts: being tryed & she swiming Wn. therein & bound contrary to custom & ye.
Judgts. of all the spectators & afterwards being serched by ffive antient weamen who
have all declared on oath yt. she is not like ym: nor noe other woman yt. they knew of
having two things like titts on her private parts of a Black coller being blacker yn: ye:
rest of her body all wth: cercumstance ye. Court weighing in their consideracon doe
therefore ordr. yt. ye. Sherr: take ye. sd. Grace into his costody & to comit her body to
ye. common Joal of this County their to secure her by irons or otherwise there to remain
till such time as he shall be otherwise directed in ordr. for her coming to ye. common
goal of ye: Countey to be brought to a ffuture tryall there. "Our proposition to the Cherokee chiefs to visit Congress, for the purpose of preventing
or delaying a rupture with that nation, was too late. The storm had gathered to a
head when Major Martin (the agent) had got back. It was determined, therefore, to
carry the war into their country, rather than wait it in ours; and I have it in my power
to inform you that, thus disagreeably circumstanced, the issue has been successful. I
enclose the particulars as reported to me." Col. Arthur Campbell's report to Mr. Jefferson
is dated Washington county, Jan. 15, 1781. "The militia (he says) of this and the
two western North Carolina counties (now Tennessee) have been fortunate enough to
frustrate the designs of the Cherokees. On my reaching the frontiers, I found the Indians
meant to annoy us by small parties. To resist them effectually, the apparently
best measure was to transfer the war without delay into their own borders. "York county October ye 26th, 1696. I promise to give five pounds sterling towards
building the cott. house at Yorké Town, and twenty pounds sterl'g if within two years
they build a brick church att the same towne. As witness my hand ye day and year
above written. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 7 | Author: | Alcott
Louisa May
1832-1888 | Add | | | Title: | Moods | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | 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 room fronted the west, but a black cloud, barred
with red, robbed the hour of twilight's tranquil charm.
Shadows haunted it, lurking in corners like spies set there
to watch the man who stood among them mute and motionless
as if himself a shadow. His eye turned often to the
window with a glance both vigilant and eager, yet saw
nothing but a tropical luxuriance of foliage scarcely stirred
by the sultry air heavy with odors that seemed to oppress
not refresh. He listened with the same intentness, yet
heard only the clamor of voices, the tramp of feet, the
chime of bells, the varied turmoil of a city when night is
defrauded of its peace by being turned to day. He watched
and waited for something; presently it came. A viewless
visitant, welcomed by longing soul and body as the man,
with extended arms and parted lips received the voiceless
greeting of the breeze that came winging its way across
the broad Atlantic, full of healthful cheer for a home-sick
heart. Far out he leaned; held back the thick-leaved
boughs already rustling with a grateful stir, chid the shrill
bird beating its flame-colored breast against its prison bars,
and drank deep draughts of the blessed wind that seemed
to cool the fever of his blood and give him back the vigor
he had lost. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | Aldrich
Thomas Bailey
1836-1907 | Add | | | Title: | Marjorie Daw, and other people | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Letter received. Dillon be hanged. I think
I ought to be on the ground. Stay where you are. You would only com-plicate
matters. Do not move until you hear
from me. My being at The Pines could be kept secret.
I must see her. Do not think of it. It would be useless.
R. W. D. has locked M. in her room. You
would not be able to effect an interview. Locked her in her room. Good God. That
settles the question. I shall leave by the twelve-fifteen
express. Mr Van Twiller Dear Sir — i am verry great-full
to you for that Bracelett. it come just in the nic
of time for me. The Mademoiselle Zabriski dodg is
about plaid out. My beard is getting to much for me.
i shall have to grow a mustash and take to some other
line of busyness, i dont no what now, but will let
you no. You wont feel bad if i sell that Bracelett. i
have seen Abrahams Moss and he says he will do the
square thing. Pleas accep my thanks for youre Beautiful
and Unexpected present. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | Aldrich
Thomas
1836-1907 | Add | | | Title: | Prudence Palfrey | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Parson Wibird Hawkins was in trouble.
The trouble was not of a pecuniary nature,
for the good man had not only laid up treasures
in heaven, but had kept a temporal eye
on the fluctuations of real estate in Rivermouth,
and was the owner of three or four of
the nicest houses in Hollyhock Row. Nor was
his trouble of a domestic nature, whatever it
once might have been, for Mrs. Wibird Hawkins
was dead this quarter of a century. Nor
was it of the kind that sometimes befalls
too susceptible shepherds, for the parson had
reached an age when the prettiest of his flock
might have frisked about him without stirring
a pulse. You will probably be surprised to receive a letter
from me after all these months of silence,—or, rather,
years, for it is nearly three years, is n't it, since we
parted? I have been in no mood or condition to
write before, and I write now only because I may
not have another chance to relieve you of any uncertainty
you may feel on my account. I have
thought it my duty to do this since I came to the
resolve, within a few days, to give up my hopeless
pursuits here and go into the army. If you do not
hear from me or of me in the course of four or six
months, you will know that my bad luck, which began
in Montana, has culminated somewhere in the
South. Then you can show this to my Uncle Dent,
or even before, if you wish; I leave it to your discretion.
Perhaps I shall do something in the war;
who knows? It is time for me to do something. I
am a failure up to date. I'm not sure I am a
brave man, but I have that disregard for life which
well fits me to lead forlorn-hopes,—and I've led
many a forlorn-hope these past three years, Joe. Place the balance due me on account, and the six
U. S. bonds you hold for me, to the credit and subject
to the order of Colonel Peyton Todhunter. Go to Chicago instantly. Draw funds from Rawlings.
Will join you at 6666. You have failed.
He is here. Has Colonel Todhunter drawn the funds described
in the despatch of yesterday? If not, stop payment
until further advices. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Austin
Jane G.
(Jane Goodwin)
1831-1894 | Add | | | Title: | Dora Darling | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “Hi! Dat good un! Bully for de 'federates, dis
chile say. Dey's showed deyse'fs out now! Cut um
stick in de night, eh, an' put! Jes' like de wicked flea in
de Bible dat no one wan't a tryin' fer to cotch. Golly,
I wish I'd got de rebel flea 'tween dis yer finger an'
fum! Wouldn' I crack um 'bout de shortes'? An' de
Yankees got dar umformation from a 'telligent conterban',
did dey? Wish't I know'd dat 'telligent feller! I'd like
'o shake um paw, an' gib um a chaw ob ole Varginny for
de sarvice he done to ebery nigger in de Souf w'en he
help de Yankees. Wish't I was in his brogans, — reckon
dey wouldn' fin' no 'telligenter nor no willin'er conterban'
dan ole Pic ud make ef he got de chance fer ter show
um sentermen's; but de trouble wid dis yer nigger is, him
candle's got a bushel basket atop ob um, an' de Bible
hese'f say dat dat ar' ain't no kin' ob a fashion. Bud ef de
Yankees 'ud come an' kick off de ole basket—golly,
what a confurgation o' smartness 'ud bust on dey eyesight!” “Dear Dora: I'm going further South with my regiment.
I have been sick, and am not very well now, and
don't believe I will ever come back. I'd like ever so
much to see you before I go, more especially because I
think I never will see you again. I darsn't come inside
the pickets, but this fellow will bring you to me to-night,
if you'll come. Do come, for I want to see you badly. “And now, Mr. Brown, I am going to tell you something
so surprising, that I can hardly believe it myself.
Only think of Captain Karl's mother being my own dear
mother's sister, the very aunt Lucy that I have so long
wanted to find! And only think, too, that Charlie (that's
what we call Captain Karl almost always here) knew all
the time, or suspected, at least; because, when he wrote to
his mother about me, and said my name was Dora Darling,
she wrote back word that her sister married a man
named Darley, and told him to inquire if it wasn't the same
name. Then he took up my little Bible one day, when I
had been reading to him, and saw mother's name, `Mary
Lee,' written in it; and his own mother's name was Lucy
Lee; so he knew then right off. But he made believe to
his mother that he didn't know; and he never said a word
to me; but he says, if I had concluded not to go with
him, he should have told me, though he didn't want to,
because he wanted to surprise us both. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 12 | Author: | Sedgwick
Catharine Maria
1789-1867 | Add | | | Title: | A New England tale, and Miscellanies | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | 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 returning to my lodgings, late last evening, I was
accosted by a man, muffled in a cloak. I recognised his voice
at once. It was our unfortunate townsman, Wilson. He has
succeeded à merveille in an ingenious plan of escape from durance,
and sails in the morning for one of the West India
islands, where he will, no doubt, make his debut as pirate, or
in some other character, for which his training has equally
qualified him. A precious rascal he is indeed; but, allow me
a phrase of your fraternity, sir, I had no light to give him up
to justice, after he had trusted to me; and more than that,
for he informs me, that he had, since his confinement, written
to the Woodhulls to engage me as counsel, and through them
he learnt the fact of my being in this city. This bound me,
in some sort, to look upon the poor devil as my client; and,
as it would have been my duty to get him out of the clutches
of the law, it would have been most ungracious to have put
him into them, you know, since his own cleverness, instead of
mine, has extricated him. He has explained to me, and he
informs me has communicated to you, (for he says he cannot
trust his mother to make them public,) the particulars of the
sequestration of the old woman's money. I think Miss Elton
never imparted to you the event that led to the sudden engagement,
from which she has chosen to absolve me; and you
have yet to learn, that there is generosity, disinterestedness
in the world, that may rival the virtue which reposes under
the shadow of the broad-brim. But, your pardon. I have
wiped out all scores. The reception I have met with in this
finest of cities, has been such as to make me look upon the
incidents of an obscure village as mere bagatelles, not worthy
of a sigh from one who can bask in the broad sunshine of ladies'
favour and fortune's gifts. One word more, en passant,
of Wilson's explanations. I rejoice in it sincerely, on Miss
Elton's account. She deserved to have suffered a little for
her childishness in holding herself bound by an exacted promise,
for having put herself in a situation in which her guilt
would have seemed apparent to any one but a poor dog whom
love had hoodwinked—pro tempore. She is too young and
too beautiful a victim for the altar of conscience. However,
I forgive her, her scruples, her fanaticism, and her cruelties;
and wish her all happiness in this world and the next, advising
her not to turn anchorite here, for the sake of advancement
there. “Mr. Allen came home three weeks ago, and said it was
not sure you would be a colonel; but Mr. Oakley saw it in
the paper, yesterday, that you are one, and I hurraed and
hurraed till my little mother said I should make her deaf.
And mother dressed up, and put the blue ribbon you sent
her, round her neck, and looked so beautiful; Mr. Oakley
said the ribbon was just a match for her eyes, and then such
a rosy colour came into her cheeks. “Dear and Honoured Husband:—Your `little wifie' (I
am glad you still call me so) thanks you from the bottom of
her heart for your long letters. How kind of you, after your
long days' marches, and your hard, hard work, to sit up at
night to write to us, and especially to me, who am but a poor
and short letter-writer myself. Oh, my dear heart, when will
this tedious war be over, and you be at home again? Not that
every thing does not go on very well. Dear sister Sylvy sees
to every thing, does every thing. I am a poor thriftless wife
to you, and I am afraid I shall not even be a mere ornamental
piece of furniture—a `jim crack' of William Freeman's (as you
remember who, called me), if you do not soon come home. I
am getting thinner and thinner, and you will have to put on
your spectacles (I cannot believe you wear spectacles!) to
see me. “Dear and Respected Brother:—Your letter was
duly received two weeks after date. I thank you for
its approving words; also for your profitable advice, concerning
the farm, stock, and so forth, which shall—the Lord
willing—be attended to. “My dear Sir—Family afflictions compel me to resign my
commission. With ardent prayers for my country—all I can
now give her— “My dear Sir—I have just succeeded to the possession
of an immense fortune, and hasten to offer you the only reparation
in my power for a wrong deeply regretted by—
Yours with sentiments of immeasurable respect— “I am clean discouraged. It seems as if Providence
crowded on me. There is black disappointment, turn which
way I will. I have had an offer to go to Orleans, and part
pay beforehand, which same I send you herewith. Ellen read—“Mrs. O'Roorke,—You have been a kind
friend to me, and I thank you; and give you, in token of my
gratitude, all that I have in this room. My clothes please
give to Ellen, and the purse with the two dollars, in the
corner of the drawer, to Pat. With many thanks from me, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Bennett
Emerson
1822-1905 | Add | | | Title: | The league of the Miami | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Whoever has attempted to trace through
its various windings, or plunge into and
divine the mysteries of that mysterious,
inexplicable thing, the human heart, has
ever found himself perplexed—lost in a
mazy bewilderment. Well sung one of
England's greatest poets,
“The proper study of mankind is man,”
for man is a strange, strange being; his
life is a medley of inconsistencies—his
heart a labyrinth of good and evil. There
is in our nature a propensity, a desire for
concealment, which may be termed somewhat
hypocritical, and which gives the
outward, and the inward man, two strong
contrasting aspects. Were it not for this,
we should not see the gentle smile upon
the surface, while the death-worm was
gnawing at the core. We should not be
daily told that such an one is happy, such
an one enjoys all the beauties of life,
while he, or she, is looking forward to
the cold and silent tomb to end the misery
of a life of woe. Why is this? Why
do we seek to seem other than we feel—
than we are? Ah, there is the mystery.
That it is so, none will deny. Were it
not for this—were our features the index
of our thoughts—where would be the
sacredness of grief? or the holy charm
of love? And is not one sacred to us?
Does not the other seem holy in our eyes?
Do we not hoard them in our heart of
hearts, as the miser hoards his treasures
from the gaze of the world? And do
we not, like him, feel a secret pleasure in
brooding over them in silence, alone?
Could we not do this—did the world
know us as we know ourselves—not all
the terrors of death, not all the terrors of
a great hereafter, would be sufficient to
hinder thousands from rashly plunging
into the mystic, UNKNOWN BEYOND! In
this do we not behold an All-wise
ordering? Madam:—When this reaches you, I
shall probably be no more. I believe
that we are often warned of our approaching
dissolution, and I feel that mine is
near at hand. What my end will be,
God only knows; yet, while I contemplate
and write, I shudder. Seven years
ago, I placed in your charge Cicely
Edgerton—” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 15 | Author: | Ward
Artemus
1834-1867 | Add | | | Title: | Artemus Ward, his book ; with many comic illustrations | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Sir—I'm movin along—slowly along—down
tords your place. I want you should rite me a
letter, sayin how is the show bizniss in your place.
My show at present consists of three moral Bares, a
Kangaroo (a amoozin little Raskal—t'would make
you larf yerself to deth to see the little cuss jump
up and squeal) wax figgers of G. Washington Gen.
Tayler John Bunyan Capt. Kidd and Dr. Webster
in the act of killin Dr. Parkman, besides several
miscellanyus moral wax statoots of celebrated piruts
& murderers, &c., ekalled by few & exceld by
none. Now Mr. Editor, scratch orf a few lines
sayin how is the show bizniss down to your place.
I shall hav my hanbills dun at your offiss. Depend
upon it. I want you should git my hanbills up in
flamin stile. Also git up a tremenjus excitemunt
in yr. paper 'bowt my onparaleld Show. We must
fetch the public sumhow. We must wurk on their
feelins. Cum the moral on 'em strong. If it's a
temprance community tell 'em I sined the pledge fifteen
minits arter Ise born, but on the contery ef your
peple take their tods, say Mister Ward is as Jenial
a feller as we ever met, full of conwiviality, & the
life an sole of the Soshul Bored. Take, don't you?
If you say anythin abowt my show say my snaiks is
as harmliss as the new born Babe. What a interestin
study it is to see a zewological animil like a
snaik under perfeck subjecshun! My kangaroo is
the most larfable little cuss I ever saw. All for 15
cents. I am anxyus to skewer your infloounce. I
repeet in regard to them hanbills that I shall git
'em struck orf up to your printin office. My
perlitercal sentiments agree with yourn exackly. I
know thay do, becawz I never saw a man whoos
didn't. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Cary
Alice
1820-1871 | Add | | | 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 |
| 19 | Author: | Child
Lydia Maria Francis
1802-1880 | Add | | | Title: | A romance of the republic | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “Dearly Beloved,—I am so happy that I cannot
wait a minute without telling you about it. I have done a
naughty thing, but, as it is the first time I ever disobeyed
you, I hope you will forgive me. You told me never to
go to the plantation without you. But I waited and waited,
and you did n't come; and we were so happy there,
that lovely day, that I longed to go again. I knew it
would be very lonesome without you; but I thought it
would be some comfort to see again the places where we
walked together, and sang together, and called each other
all manner of foolish fond names. Do you remember how
many variations you rung upon my name, — Rosabella,
Rosalinda, Rosamunda, Rosa Regina? How you did pelt
me with roses! Do you remember how happy we were in
the garden bower? How we sang together the old-fashioned
canzonet, `Love in thine eyes forever plays'? And
how the mocking-bird imitated your guitar, while you were
singing the Don Giovanni serenade? “Dear Sir, — If you can spare an hour this evening to
talk with me on a subject of importance, you will greatly
oblige yours, “Dearest and best Friends,—It would take days
to explain to you all that has happened since I wrote
you that long, happy letter; and at present I have not
strength to write much. When we meet we will talk
about it more fully, though I wish to avoid the miserable
particulars as far as possible. The preparations I
so foolishly supposed were being made for me were for
a rich Northern bride,—a pretty, innocent-looking little
creature. The marriage with me, it seems, was counterfeit.
When I discovered it, my first impulse was to
fly to you. But a strange illness came over me, and
I was oblivious of everything for four months. My good
Tulee and a black woman named Chloe brought me back
to life by their patient nursing. I suppose it was wrong,
but when I remembered who and what I was, I felt sorry
they did n't let me go. I was again seized with a longing
to fly to you, who were as father and mother to me and my
darling little sister in the days of our first misfortune.
But I was too weak to move, and I am still far from being
able to bear the fatigue of such a journey. Moreover, I
am fastened here for the present by another consideration.
Mr. Fitzgerald says he bought us of papa's creditors, and
that I am his slave. I have entreated him, for the sake
of our unborn child, to manumit me, and he has promised
to do it. If I could only be safe in New Orleans, it is my
wish to come and live with you, and find some way to support
myself and my child. But I could have no peace, so
long as there was the remotest possibility of being claimed
as slaves. Mr. Fitzgerald may not mean that I shall ever
come to harm; but he may die without providing against
it, as poor papa did. I don't know what forms are necessary
for my safety. I don't understand how it is that there
is no law to protect a defenceless woman, who has done no
wrong. I will wait here a little longer to recruit my
strength and have this matter settled. I wish it were possible
for you, my dear, good mother, to come to me for two
or three weeks in June; then perhaps you could take back
with you your poor Rosa and her baby, if their lives should
be spared. But if you cannot come, there is an experienced
old negress here, called Granny Nan, who, Tulee says, will
take good care of me. I thank you for you sympathizing,
loving letter. Who could papa's friend be that left me a
legacy? I was thankful for the fifty dollars, for it is very
unpleasant to me to use any of Mr. Fitzgerald's money,
though he tells Tom to supply everything I want. If it
were not for you, dear friends, I don't think I should have
courage to try to live. But something sustains me wonderfully
through these dreadful trials. Sometimes I think
poor Chloe's prayers bring me help from above; for the
good soul is always praying for me. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Twain
Mark
1835-1910 | Add | | | Title: | The celebrated jumping frog of Calaveras County | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | 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 compliance with the request of a
friend of mine, who wrote me from
the East, I called on good-natured,
garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired
after my friend's friend, Leonidas W. Smiley,
as requested to do, and I hereunto append the
result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas
W. Smiley is a myth; that my friend never
knew such a personage; and that he only conjectured
that, if I asked old Wheeler about him,
it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley,
and he would go to work and bore me
nearly to death with some infernal reminiscence
of him as long and tedious as it should be useless
to me. If that was the design, it certainly
succeeded. “Dear Mark: We spent the evening very pleasantly at
home yesterday. The Rev. Dr. Macklin and wife, from Peoria,
were here. He is an humble laborer in the vineyard, and takes
his coffee strong. He is also subject to neuralgia—neuralgia in
the head—and is so unassuming and prayerful. There are few
such men We had soup for dinner likewise. Although I am
not fond of it. O Mark! why don't you try to lead a better
life? Read II. Kings, from chap. 2 to chap. 24 inclusive. It
would be so gratifying to me if you would experience a change
of heart. Poor Mrs. Gabrick is dead. You did not know her.
She had fits, poor soul. On the 14th the entire army took up
the line of march from—” “Uncle Mark, if you was here, I could tell you about Moses in
the Bulrushers again, I know it better now. Mr. Sowerby has
got his leg broke off a horse. He was riding it on Sunday.
Margaret, that's the maid, Margaret has took all the spittoons,
and slop-buckets, and old jugs out of your room, because she
says she don't think you're ever coming back any more, you
been gone so long. Sissy McElroy's mother has got another
little baby. She has them all the time. It has got little blue
eyes, like Mr. Swimley that boards there, and looks just like
him. I have got a new doll, but Johnny Anderson pulled one
of its legs out. Miss Doosenberry was here to-day; I give her
your picture, but she said she didn't want it. My cat has got
more kittens—oh! you can't think — twice as many as Lottie
Belden's. And there's one, such a sweet little buff one with a
short tail, and I named it for you. All of them's got names
now—General Grant, and Halleck, and Moses, and Margaret,
and Deuteronomy, and Captain Semmes, and Exodus, and Leviticus,
and Horace Greeley—all named but one, and I am saving
it because the one that I named for You's been sick all the time
since, and I reckon it'll die. [It appears to have been mighty
rough on the short-tailed kitten, naming it for me—I wonder
how the reserved victim will stand it.] Uncle Mark, I do believe
Hattie Caldwell likes you, and I know she thinks you are
pretty, because I heard her say nothing couldn't hurt your good
looks—nothing at all—she said, even if you was to have the
small-pox ever so bad, you would be just as good-looking as you
was before. And my ma says she's ever so smart. [Very.] So
no more this time, because General Grant and Moses is fighting. To Mr. Mark Twain: The within parson, which I have sot
to poettry under the name and style of “He Done His Level
Best,” was one among the whitest men I ever see, and it an't
every man that knowed him that can find it in his heart to say
he's glad the poor cuss is busted and gone home to the States.
He was here in an early day, and he was the handyest man
about takin' holt of any thing that come along you most ever
see, I judge. He was a cheerful, stirrin' cretur', always doin'
something, and no man can say he ever see him do any thing
by halvers. Preachin' was his nateral gait, but he warn't a
man to lay back and twidle his thums because there didn't happen
to be nothin' doin' in his own espeshial line—no, sir, he was
a man who would meander forth and stir up something for hisself.
His last acts was to go his pile on “kings-and,” (calklatin'
to fill, but which he didn't fill,) when there was a “flush” out
agin him, and naterally, you see, he went under. And so he
was cleaned out, as you may say, and he struck the home-trail,
cheerful but flat broke. I knowed this talonted man in Arkansaw,
and if you would print this humbly tribute to his gorgis
abillities, you would greatly obleege his onhappy friend. “St. Clair Higgins,” Los Angeles.—“My life is a failure; I
have adored, wildly, madly, and she whom I love has turned
coldly from me and shed her affections upon another. What
would you advise me to do?” “Arithmeticus,” Virginia, Nevada.—“If it would take a
cannon ball 3⅓ seconds to travel four miles, and 3⅜ seconds to
travel the next four, and 3⅝ seconds to travel the next four, and
if its rate of progress continued to diminish in the same ratio,
how long would it take it to go fifteen hundred millions of
miles?” “Discarded Lover.”—“I loved, and still love, the beautiful
Edwitha Howard, and intended to marry her. Yet, during my
temporary absence at Benicia, last week, alas! she married
Jones. Is my happiness to be thus blasted for life? Have I no
redress?” “Arithmeticus,” Virginia, Nevada.—“I am an enthusiastic
student of mathematics, and it is so vexatious to me to find my
progress constantly impeded by these mysterious arithmetical
technicalities. Now do tell me what the difference is between
geometry and conchology?” Distressing Accident.—Last evening about 6 o'clock, as
Mr. William Schuyler, an old and respectable citizen of South
Park, was leaving his residence to go down town, as has been
his usual custom for many years, with the exception only of a
short interval in the spring of 1850, during which he was confined
to his bed by injuries received in attempting to stop a runaway
horse by thoughtlessly placing himself directly in its wake
and throwing up his hands and shouting, which, if he had done
so even a single moment sooner, must inevitably have frightened
the animal still more instead of checking its speed, although
disastrous enough to himself as it was, and rendered more melancholy
and distressing by reason of the presence of his wife's
mother, who was there and saw the sad occurrence, notwithstanding
it is at least likely, though not necessarily so, that she
should be reconnoitering in another direction when incidents
occur, not being vivacious and on the lookout, as a general
thing, but even the reverse, as her own mother is said to have
stated, who is no more, but died in the full hope of a glorious
resurrection, upwards of three years ago, aged 86, being a
Christian woman and without guile, as it were, or property, in
consequence of the fire of 1849, which destroyed every blasted
thing she had in the world. But such is life. Let us all take
warning by this solemn occurrence, and let us endeavor so to conduct
ourselves that when we come to die we can do it. Let us
place our hands upon our hearts, and say with earnestness and
sincerity that from this day forth we will beware of the intoxicating
bowl.—First Edition of the Californian. “Dear Sir: My object in writing to you is to have you give
me a full history of Nevada. What is the character of its climate?
What are the productions of the earth? Is it healthy?
What diseases do they die of mostly? Do you think it would
be advisable for a man who can make a living in Missouri to
emigrate to that part of the country? There are several of us
who would emigrate there in the spring if we could ascertain to
a certainty that it is a much better country than this. I suppose
you know Joel H. Smith? He used to live here; he lives in
Nevada now; they say he owns considerable in a mine there.
Hoping to hear from you soon, etc., I remain yours, truly, Dearest William: Pardon my familiarity
—but that name touchingly reminds me of the
loved and lost, whose name was similar. I
have taken the contract to answer your letter,
and although we are now strangers, I feel we
shall cease to be so if we ever become acquainted
with each other. The thought is worthy of
attention, William. I will now respond to
your several propositions in the order in which
you have fulminated them. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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