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Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches 28 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 1, Colonial and Revolutionary Literature: Early National Literature: Part I (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 16 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Atlantic Essays 16 0 Browse Search
James Redpath, The Public Life of Captain John Brown 12 0 Browse Search
Elias Nason, The Life and Times of Charles Sumner: His Boyhood, Education and Public Career. 12 2 Browse Search
James Russell Lowell, Among my books 12 2 Browse Search
Wendell Phillips, Theodore C. Pease, Speeches, Lectures and Letters of Wendell Phillips: Volume 2 8 0 Browse Search
John Harrison Wilson, The life of Charles Henry Dana 8 0 Browse Search
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 2 6 0 Browse Search
William Alexander Linn, Horace Greeley Founder and Editor of The New York Tribune 4 0 Browse Search
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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Army Life in a Black Regiment, Chapter 6: a night in the water. (search)
erately presented arms! Now a soldier on picket, or at night, usually presents arms to nobody; but a sentinel on camp-guard by day is expected to perform that ceremony to anything in human shape that has two rows of buttons. Here was a human shape, but so utterly buttonless that it exhibited not even a rag to which a button could by any earthly possibility be appended, buttonless even potentially; and my blameless Ethiopian presented arms to even this. Where, then, are the theories of Carlyle, the axioms of Sartor Resartus, the inability of humanity to conceive a naked Duke of Windlestraw addressing a naked House of Lords ? Cautioning my adherent, however, as to the proprieties suitable for such occasions thenceforward, I left him watching the river with renewed vigilance, and awaiting the next merman who should report himself. Finding my way to the building, I hunted up a sergeant and a blanket, got a fire kindled in the dismantled chimney, and sat before it in my single ga
isappointed in the scope and extent of the work. The endeavor is to keep Lincoln in sight all the time to cling close to his side all the way through — leaving to others the more comprehensive task of writing a history of his times. I have no theory of his life to establish or destroy. Mr. Lincoln was my warm, devoted friend. I always loved him, and I revere his name to this day. My purpose to tell the truth about him need occasion no apprehension; for I know that God's naked truth, as Carlyle puts it, can never injure the fame of Abraham Lincoln. It will stand that or any other test, and at last untarnished will reach the loftiest niche in American history. My long personal association with Mr. Lincoln gave me special facilities in the direction of obtaining materials for these volumes. Such were our relations during all that portion of his life when he was rising to distinction, that I had only to exercise a moderate vigilance in order to gather and preserve the real data
most respectfully ask to be heard. On the following day, March 10, 1849, he addressed to the Secretary of State his first formal recommendation. It is remarkable from the fact that between the two Whig applicants whose papers are transmitted, he says rather less in favor of his own choice than of the opposing claimant. Sir: There are several applicants for the office of United States Marshal for the District of Illinois, among the most prominent of whom are Benjamin Bond, Esq., of Carlyle, and — Thomas, Esq., of Galena. Mr. Bond I know to be personally every way worthy of the office; and he is very numerously and most respectably recommended. His papers I send to you; and I solicit for his claims a full and fair consideration. Having said this much, I add that in my individual judgment the appointment of Mr. Thomas would be the better, Your obedient servant, A. Lincoln. (Indorsed on Mr. Bond's papers.) In this and the accompanying envelop are the recommendatio
Henry Morton Stanley, Dorothy Stanley, The Autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, part 2.13, chapter 2.22 (search)
conscientious study of the biblical text. Stanley carried his Bible with him through life, and he read it constantly; but I should imagine that he was less affected by the New Testament than by the prophetic and historical books of the Hebraic scriptures. He believed profoundly in the Divine ordering of the world; but he was equally assured that the Lord's Will was not fulfilled by mystical dreams, or by weak acquiescence in any wrong-doing that could be evaded by energetic action. With Carlyle, he held that strength is based on righteousness, and that the strong should inherit the earth; and saw no reason why there should be any undue delay in claiming the inheritance. The white man's burden could not be shirked, and should, on the contrary, be promptly and cheerfully shouldered. It is useless (he wrote, having in view the American Indians) to blame the white race for moving across the continent in a constantly-increasing tide. If we proceed in that manner, we shall presentl
Henry Morton Stanley, Dorothy Stanley, The Autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, part 2.13, chapter 2.25 (search)
s fond weaknesses. We should know more about his inward thoughts, his best views of men, and matters political, literary, social, etc., etc., to get a complete knowledge of him. These letters only refer to Lowell and his immediate acquaintances, and there are very few things in them that a reader would care to hear twice. I could scarcely point to a dozen sentences, all told, that compel a pause. How different this is from what one could show in Ruskin, the prose poet of England, or in Carlyle; or in Boswell's Johnson, or in De Quincey, even! Yet, I admit, it is unfair to judge Lowell by his Letters only, and that we should examine his prose and poetry before deciding. Twice, only, was I thrilled, just a little, and then from sympathy with the bereaved husband and father. Had Lowell kept a journal like Sir Walter Scott, I feel the world would have had something worth reading. Sometimes I appear to look, as through a window, into the heart of the writer and his correspondent
which American women become images of petrified propriety, if addressed by strangers, when traveling alone, the inborn perversity of my nature causes me to assume an entirely opposite style of deportment; and, finding my companion hails from Little Athens, is acquainted with several of my three hundred and sixty-five cousins, and in every way a respectable and respectful member of society, I put my bashfulness in my pocket, and plunge into a long conversation on the war, the weather, music, Carlyle, skating, genius, hoops, and the immortality of the soul. Ten, P. I.-Very sleepy. Nothing to be seen outside, but darkness made visible; nothing inside but every variety of bunch into which the human form can be twisted, rolled, or massed, as Miss Prescott says of her jewels. Every man's legs sprawl drowsily, every woman's head (but mine,) nods, till it finally settles on somebody's shoulder, a new proof of the truth of the everlasting oak and vine simile; children fret; lovers whisper;
e Chamber, this man did not feed as well as fold his flock, nor make himself a human symbol of the Divine Samaritan, who never passes by on the other side. I have since learned that our non-commital Chaplain had been a Professor in some Southern College; and, though he maintained that he had no secesh proclivities, I can testify that he seceded from his ministerial duties, I may say, skedaddled; for, being one of his own words, it is as appropriate as inelegant. He read Emerson, quoted Carlyle, and tried to be a Chaplain; but, judging from his success, I am afraid he still hankered after the hominy pots of Rebeldom. Occasionally, on a Sunday afternoon, such of the nurses, officers, attendants, and patients as could avail themselves of it, were gathered in the Ball Room, for an hour's service, of which the singing was the better part. To me it seemed that if ever strong, wise, and loving words were needed, it was then; if ever mortal man had living texts before his eyes to il
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 2. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 6.34 (search)
64, he testifies: (my troops) were in fine condition — better than any other troops in the army for that purpose. We were expecting to make this assault, and had drilled for weeks and were in good trim for it. --Ib., p. 106. Perhaps his excuse for this discrepancy of statement may be that of the notorious Trenck of the Life Guards, who, when reproached for his mendacity about the battle of Sohr, cried out: How could I help mistakes? I had nothing but my poor agitated memory to trust to. --Carlyle's Friedrich, vol. VI, p. 97. and the tattered battle-flags planted along the parapets from left to right, told Lee at the Gee House that from this nettle danger, valor had plucked the flower, safety for an army. Redoubling the sharpshooters on his right, Mahone kept down all fire from the Crater, the vast rim of which frowned down upon the lower line occupied by his troops. And now the scene within the horrid pit was such as might be fitly portrayed only by the pencil of Dante after
interests generally, he thought, did sympathize with us. Not so with the rulers. They care but little for the success of either the North or the South; some of our people were disposed to think that their sympathies were with the North, while the northern people were charging them with sympathy for us. He thought they had no kind feelings for either, but rather rejoiced to see professed republicans cutting each other's throats. He thought the remark reported to have lately been uttered by Carlyle in his quaint style, embodied in a nutshell the diplomatic feelings of Europe towards the cause on both sides. The remark was that it was the foulest chimney that had been on fire for a century, and the best way is to let it burn itself out.* * * From the foregoing extract it will be seen that I counted upon two millions of bales of the crop of 1860, and two million bales of the crop of 1861, to be gotten out before the ports could be effectually closed by blockade. It was upon this ba
ng style. Here I was, a young Yankee Doodle, to use a phrase of Mr. Carlyle, at the table of the greatest wit, probably, that England ever sinclined to let the matter go by default, so I said at once:-- Carlyle! Carlyle! said Smith, we don't know him here: what have you got Carlyle! said Smith, we don't know him here: what have you got to say of Carlyle? I said, I am not an indiscriminate admirer of Carlyle; I find much in him to criticise: but I have always been impressed Carlyle? I said, I am not an indiscriminate admirer of Carlyle; I find much in him to criticise: but I have always been impressed by his genius; he seems to me to write as if by flashes of lightning. This declaration seemed to surprise the company, with the exception ofCarlyle; I find much in him to criticise: but I have always been impressed by his genius; he seems to me to write as if by flashes of lightning. This declaration seemed to surprise the company, with the exception of one gentleman, whom I observed to listen very attentively. When the conversation was resumed, he rose and placed his card in my hand, saying, Mr. Sumner, I thank you for what you have said of Carlyle. I am the only man here who appreciates him. This is my card; I shall be oblige Milnes, the poet and member of Parliament. The conversation of Mr. Carlyle resembled in style his published writings. It was racy, suggest