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Anaxagoras (search for this): chapter 3
l assuredly be revealed and fully made known. For as the angel rose of old from the altar of Manoah even so shall truth arise from the humbling sacrifice of self-knowledge and human vanity, in all its eternal and ineffable beauty. Seekest thou, like Pilate, after truth? Look thou within. The holy principle is there; that in whose light the pure hearts of all time have rejoiced. It is the great light of ages of which Pythagoras speaks, the good spirit of Socrates; the divine mind of Anaxagoras; the perfect principle of Plato; the infallible and immortal law, and divine power of reason of Philo. It is the unbegotten principle and source of all light, whereof Timaeus testifieth; the interior guide of the soul and everlasting foundation of virtue, spoken of by Plutarch. Yea, it was the hope and guide of those virtuous Gentiles, who, doing by nature the things contained in the law, became a law unto themselves. Look to thyself. Turn thine eye inward. Heed not the opinion of
man, said Pelatiah Curtis. There is no time for kissing and such fooleries when the tide serves. And so they parted. Anna and the boys went back to their home, and David to the Port, whence he sailed off in the Lively Turtle. And months passed shook their heads solemnly, and said that the Lively Turtle was a lost ship, and would never come back to port. And poor Anna had her bombazine gown dyed black, and her straw bonnet trimmed in mourning ribbons, and thenceforth she was known only as, weeks, months, and years. His dark hair became gray. He still dreamed of his old home on the Merrimac, and of his good Anna and the boys. He wondered whether they yet lived, what they thought of him, and what they were doing. The hope of ever sg himself to a fresh quid of tobacco, but I'm glad I've seen the last of him. When Pelatiah Curtis reached home he told Anna the story of her husband and laid his gifts in her lap. She did not shriek nor faint, for she was a healthy woman with str
saith Henry Cornelius Agrippa, in the fiftieth chapter of his first book on Occult Philosophy, is a binding which comes of the spirit of the witch through the eyes of him that is bewitched, entering to his heart; for the eye being opened and intent upon any one, with a strong imagination doth dart its beams, which are the vehiculum of the spirit, into the eyes of him that is opposite to her; which tender spirit strikes his eyes, stirs up and wounds his heart, and infects his spirit. Whence Apuleius saith, Thy eyes, sliding down through my eyes into my inmost heart, stirreth up a most vehement burning. And when eyes are reciprocally intent upon each other, and when rays are joined to rays, and lights to lights, then the spirit of the one is joined to that of the other; so are strong ligations made and vehement loves inflamed. Taking this definition of witchcraft, we sadly fear it is still practised to a very great extent among us. The best we can say of it is, that the business seems
Enoch Arden (search for this): chapter 3
ch has been to me as the green pasture and the still water, the shadow in a weary land. And the stranger went his way; but the lady and her lover, in all their after life, and amidst the trials and persecutions which they were called to suffer in the cause of truth, remembered with joy and gratitude the instructions of the purehearted and eloquent William Penn. David Matson. Published originally in our young folks, 1865. who of my young friends have read the sorrowful story of Enoch Arden, so sweetly and simply told by the great English poet? It is the story of a man who went to sea, leaving behind a sweet young wife and little daughter. He was cast away on a desert island, where he remained several years, when he was discovered and taken off by a passing vessel. Coming back to his native town, he found his wife married to an old playmate, a good man, rich and honored, and with whom she was living happily. The poor man, unwilling to cause her pain and perplexity, resol
Julia Atkins (search for this): chapter 3
Barnet and his wife, I suppose? said I. Yes. I will give their case as an illustration. Julia Atkins was the daughter of Ensign Atkins, who lived on the mill-road, just above Deacon Warner's. WhEnsign Atkins, who lived on the mill-road, just above Deacon Warner's. When she was ten years old her mother died; and in a few months afterwards her father married Polly Wiggin, the tailoress, a shrewd, selfish, managing woman. Julia, poor girl! had a sorry time of it; up your mind, said I; and if you were my own son, I would n't ask for you a better wife than Julia Atkins. Don't hesitate, Robert, on account of what some ill-natured people may say. Consult your owother voyage. It was now autumn, and the most sickly season I had ever known in Peewawkin. Ensign Atkins and his wife both fell sick; and Julia embraced with alacrity this providential opportunity where he was and who was with me, saying that his head was so confused that he thought he saw Julia Atkins by the bedside. You were not mistaken, said I; Julia is here, and you owe your life to her.
ng the philosophers of the Old World and the Indians of the New, leaving no stone unturned, the turning whereof might conduce to the discovery of what is occult. There was still another member of the Friends' society in Vermont, of the name of Austin, who, in answer, as he supposed, to prayer and a longished desire to benefit his afflicted fellow-creatures, received, as he believed, a special gift of healing. For several years applicants from nearly all parts of New England visited him withred, was in many instances really obtained. Letters from the sick who were unable to visit him, describing their diseases, were sent him; and many are yet living who believe that they were restored miraculously at the precise period of time when Austin was engaged in reading their letters. One of my uncles was commissioned to convey to him a large number of letters from sick persons in his neighborhood. He found the old man sitting in his plain parlor in the simplest garb of his sect, —grave,
Autolycus (search for this): chapter 3
for my father; and verses of his own composing, coarsely printed and illustrated with rude wood-cuts, for the delectation of the younger branches of the family. No lovesick youth could drown himself, no deserted maiden bewail the moon, no rogue mount the gallows, without fitting memorial in Plummer's verses. Earthquakes, fires, fevers, and shipwrecks he regarded as personal favors from Providence, furnishing the raw material of song and ballad. Welcome to us in our country seclusion as Autolycus to the clown in Winter's Tale, we listened with infinite satisfaction to his readings of his own verses, or to his ready improvisation upon some domestic incident or topic suggested by his auditors. When once fairly over the difficulties at the outset of a new subject, his rhymes flowed freely, as if he had eaten ballads and all men's ears grew to his tunes. His productions answered, as nearly as I can remember, to Shakespeare's description of a proper ballad,— doleful matter merrily set
Joel Barlow (search for this): chapter 3
Anna and the boys. He wondered whether they yet lived, what they thought of him, and what they were doing. The hope of ever seeing them again grew fainter and fainter, and at last nearly died out; and he resigned himself to his fate as a slave for life. But one day a handsome middle-aged gentleman, in the dress of one of his own countrymen, attended by a great officer of the Dey, entered the ship-yard, and called up before him the American captives. The stranger was none other than Joel Barlow, Commissioner of the United States to procure the liberation of slaves belonging to that government. He took the men by the hand as they came up, and told them that they were free. As you might expect, the poor fellows were very grateful; some laughed, some wept for joy, some shouted and sang, and threw up their caps, while others, with David Matson among them, knelt down on the chips, and thanked God for the great deliverance. This is a very affecting scene, said the commissioner, w
Julia Barnet (search for this): chapter 3
ructors; and he was not ashamed to acknowledge that they had taught him more than college or library. Chapter 3: The Doctors match-making. good-morning, Mrs. Barnet, cried the Doctor, as'we drew near a neat farm-house during one of our morning drives. A tall, healthful young woman, in the bloom of matronly beauty, was feng up his reins and whip. You owe me nothing. But I must not forget my errand. Poor old Widow Osborne needs a watcher to-night; and she insists upon having Julia Barnet, and nobody else. What shall I tell her? I'll go, certainly. I can leave Lucy now as well as not. Good-by, neighbors. Good-by, Doctor. As we drove fections rather than of the opinions of the multitude, and have dared to be true to themselves in defiance of impertinent gossip. You speak of the young farmer Barnet and his wife, I suppose? said I. Yes. I will give their case as an illustration. Julia Atkins was the daughter of Ensign Atkins, who lived on the mill-road,
Robert Barnet (search for this): chapter 3
e friend, however, who was always ready to sympathize with her. Robert Barnet was the son of her next-door neighbor, about two years older th to conciliate the ruling authority. The Ensign's wife hated young Barnet, and wished to get rid of her stepdaugh-ter. The writing-master, tn and contrite heart never appeals in vain. In the mean time Robert Barnet shipped on board a Labrador vessel. The night before he left h was not without its proper effect upon them. What became of Robert Barnet? I inquired. He came back after an absence of several monaymate on the wild waters. Julia, said I, do you know that Robert Barnet loves you with all the strength of an honest and true heart? ull upon his face, and we both, at the same instant, recognized Robert Barnet. Julia did not shriek nor faint; but, kneeling in the snow, ansurvivor. The result of all this you can easily conjecture. Robert Barnet abandoned the sea, and, with the aid of some of his friends, pu
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