bookssland.com » Short Story » Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) - Frances Ann Kemble (sad books to read TXT) 📗

Book online «Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) - Frances Ann Kemble (sad books to read TXT) 📗». Author Frances Ann Kemble



1 ... 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 ... 52
Go to page:
Of Nine Arches, The

     Middle One Of Which Is Seventy Feet High, Through Which We Saw The

     Whole Of This Beautiful Little Valley. It Was Lovely And Wonderful

     Beyond All Words. He Here Told Me Many Curious Things Respecting

     This Ravine: How He Believed The Mersey Had Once Rolled Through It;

     How The Soil Had Proved So Unfavorable For The Foundation Of His

     Bridge That It Was Built Upon Piles, Which Had Been Driven Into The

     Earth To An Enormous Depth; How, While Digging For A Foundation, He

     Had Come To A Tree Bedded In The Earth Fourteen Feet Below The

     Surface Of The Ground; How Tides Are Caused, And How Another Flood

     Might Be Caused; All Of Which I Have Remembered And Noted Down At

     Much Greater Length Than I Can Enter Upon It Here. He Explained To

     Me The Whole Construction Of The Steam-Engine, And Said He Could

     Soon Make A Famous Engineer Of Me, Which, Considering The Wonderful

     Things He Has Achieved, I Dare Not Say Is Impossible. His Way Of

     Explaining Himself Is Peculiar, But Very Striking, And I

     Understood, Without Difficulty, All That He Said To Me. We Then

     Rejoined The Rest Of The Party, And The Engine Having Received Its

     Supply Of Water, The Carriage Was Placed Behind It, For It Cannot

     Turn, And Was Set Off At Its Utmost Speed, Thirty-Five Miles An

     Hour, Swifter Than A Bird Flies (For They Tried The Experiment With

     A Snipe). You Cannot Conceive What That Sensation Of Cutting The

     Air Was; The Motion Is As Smooth As Possible, Too. I Could Either

     Have Read Or Written; And As It Was, I Stood Up, And With My Bonnet

     Off "Drank The Air Before Me." The Wind, Which Was Strong, Or

     Perhaps The Force Of Our Own Thrusting Against It, Absolutely

     Weighed My Eyelids Down. [I Remember A Similar Experience To This,

     The First Time I Attempted To Go Behind The Sheet Of The Cataract

     Of Niagara; The Wind Coming From Beneath The Waterfall Met Me With

     Such Direct Force That It Literally Bore Down My Eyelids, And I Had

     To Put Off The Attempt Of Penetrating Behind The Curtain Of Foam

     Till Another Day, When That Peculiar Accident; Was Less Directly

     Hostile To Me In Its Conditions.] When I Closed My Eyes This

     Sensation Of Flying Was Quite Delightful, And Strange Beyond

     Description; Yet, Strange As It Was, I Had A Perfect Sense Of

     Security, And Not The Slightest Fear. At One Time, To Exhibit The

     Power Of The Engine, Having Met Another Steam-Carriage Which Was

     Unsupplied With Water, Mr. Stephenson Caused It To Be Fastened In

     Front Of Ours; Moreover, A Wagon Laden With Timber Was Also Chained

Volume 1 Chapter 15 Pg 79

     To Us, And Thus Propelling The Idle Steam-Engine, And Dragging The

     Loaded Wagon Which Was Beside It, And Our Own Carriage Full Of

     People Behind, This Brave Little She-Dragon Of Ours Flew On.

     Farther On She Met Three Carts, Which, Being Fastened In Front Of

     Her, She Pushed On Before Her Without The Slightest Delay Or

     Difficulty; When I Add That This Pretty Little Creature Can Run

     With Equal Facility Either Backward Or Forward, I Believe I Have

     Given You An Account Of All Her Capacities.

 

     Now For A Word Or Two About The Master Of All These Marvels, With

     Whom I Am Most Horribly In Love. He Is A Man Of From Fifty To

     Fifty-Five Years Of Age; His Face Is Fine, Though Careworn, And

     Bears An Expression Of Deep Thoughtfulness; His Mode Of Explaining

     His Ideas Is Peculiar And Very Original, Striking, And Forcible;

     And Although His Accent Indicates Strongly His North-Country Birth,

     His Language Has Not The Slightest Touch Of Vulgarity Or

     Coarseness. He Has Certainly Turned My Head.

 

     Four Years Have Sufficed To Bring This Great Undertaking To An End.

     The Railroad Will Be Opened Upon The 15th Of Next Month. The Duke

     Of Wellington Is Coming Down To Be Present On The Occasion, And, I

     Suppose, What With The Thousands Of Spectators And The Novelty Of

     The Spectacle, There Will Never Have Been A Scene Of More Striking

     Interest. The Whole Cost Of The Work (Including The Engines And

     Carriages) Will Have Been Eight Hundred And Thirty Thousand Pounds;

     And It Is Already Worth Double That Sum. The Directors Have Kindly

     Offered Us Three Places For The Opening, Which Is A Great Favor,

     For People Are Bidding Almost Anything For A Place, I Understand;

     But I Fear We Shall Be Obliged To Decline Them, As My Father Is

     Most Anxious To Take Henry Over To Heidelberg Before Our Season Of

     Work In London Begins, Which Will Take Place On The First Of

     October. I Think There Is Every Probability Of Our Having A Very

     Prosperous Season. London Will Be Particularly Gay This Winter, And

     The King And Queen, It Is Said, Are Fond Of Dramatic

     Entertainments, So That I Hope We Shall Get On Well. You Will Be

     Glad To Hear That Our Houses Here Have Been Very Fine, And That

     To-Night, Friday, Which Was My Benefit, The Theater Was Crowded In

     Every Corner. We Do Not Play Here Any More, But On Monday We Open

     At Manchester. You Will, I Know, Be Happy To Hear That, By Way Of

     Answer To The Letter I Told You I Had Written My Mother, I Received

     A Very Delightful One From My Dear Little Sister, The First I Have

     Had From Her Since I Left London. She Is A Little Jewel, And It

     Will Be A Sin If She Is Marred In The Cutting And Polishing, Or If

     She Is Set In Tawdry French Pinchbeck, Instead Of Fine, Strong,

     Sterling Gold. I Am Sorry To Say That The Lady Mrs. Jameson

     Recommended As Her Governess Has Not Been Thought Sufficiently

     Accomplished To Undertake The Charge. I Regret This The More, As In

     A Letter I Have Just Received From Mrs. Jameson She Speaks With

     More Detail Of This Lady's Qualifications, Which Seem To Me

     Peculiarly Adapted To Have A Good Effect Upon Such A Mind And

     Character As A----'S.

 

     I Wish I Had Been With Your Girls At Their Ball, And Come Back From

     It And Found You Holding Communion With The Skies. My Dearest

Volume 1 Chapter 15 Pg 80

     H----, Sublime And Sweet And Holy As Are The Feelings With Which I

     Look Up To The Star-Paved Heavens, Or To The Glorious Summer Sun,

     Or Listen To The Music Of The Great Waves, I Do Not For An Instant

     Mistake The Adoration Of The Almighty Power Manifested In These

     Works Of God, For Religion. You Tell Me To Beware Of Mixing Up

     Emotional Or Imaginative Excitement With My Devotion. And I Think I

     Can Truly Answer That I Do Not Do So. I Told You That The Cathedral

     Service Was Not Prayer To Me; Nor Do I Ever Confound A Mere

     Emotional Or Imaginative Enthusiasm, Even When Excited By The

     Highest Of All Objects Of Contemplation, With The Daily And Hourly

     Endeavor After Righteousness--The Humble Trust, Resignation,

     Obedience, And Thankfulness, Which I Believe Constitute The Vital

     Part Of Religious Faith. I Humbly Hope I Keep The Sacred Ground Of

     My Religion Clear From Whatever Does Not Belong To The Spirit Of

     Its Practice. As Long As I Can Remember, I Have Endeavored To Guard

     Against Mistaking Emotion For Religion, And Have Even Sometimes

     Been Apprehensive Lest The Admiration I Felt For Certain Passages

     In The Psalms And The Hebrew Prophets Should Make Me Forget The

     More Solemn And Sacred Purposes Of The Book Of Life, And The Glad

     Tidings Of Our Salvation. And Though, When I Look Up As You Did At

     The Worlds With Which Our Midnight Sky Is Studded, I Feel Inclined

     To Break Out, "The Heavens Declare The Glory Of God," Or, When I

     Stand Upon The Shore, Can Hardly Refrain From Crying Aloud, "The

     Sea Is His, And He Made It," I Do Not In These Moments Of Sublime

     Emotion Forget That He Is The God To Whom All Hearts Be Open; Who,

     From The Moment I Rise Until I Lie Down To Rest, Witnesses My Every

     Thought And Feeling; To Whom I Look For Support Against The Evil Of

     My Own Nature And The Temptations Which He Allots Me, Who Bestows

     Every Blessing And Inspires Every Good Impulse, Who Will Strengthen

     Me For Every Duty And Trial: My Father, In Whom I Live And Move And

     Have My Being. I Do Not Fear That My Imagination Will Become

     Over-Excited With Thoughts Such As These, But I Often Regret Most

     Bitterly That My Heart Is Not More Deeply Touched By Them. Your

     Definition Of The Love Of God Seemed Almost Like A Reproach To My

     Conscience. How Miserably Our Practice Halts Behind Our Knowledge

     Of Good, Even When Tried At The Bar Of Our Own Lenient Judgment,

     And By Our Imperfect Standard Of Right! How Poorly Does Our Life

     Answer To Our Profession! I Should Speak In The Singular, For I Am

     Only Uttering My Own Self-Condemnation. But As The Excellence We

     Adore Surpasses Our Comprehension, So Does The Mercy, And In That

     Lies Our Only Trust And Confidence.

 

     I Fear Miss W---- Either Has Not Received My Letter Or Does Not

     Mean To Answer It, For I Have Received No Reply, And I Dare Not Try

     Again. Up To A Certain Point I Am Impudent Enough, But Not Beyond

     That. Why Do You Threaten Me With Dancing To Me? Have I Lately

     Given You Cause To Think I Deserve To Have Such A Punishment Hung

     _In Terrorem_ Over Me? Besides, Threatening Me Is Injudicious, For

     It Rouses A Spirit Of Resistance In Me Not Easy To Break Down. I

     Assure You _O_ [In Allusion To My Mispronunciation Of That Vowel]

     Is Really Greatly Improved. I Take Much Pains With It, As Also With

     My Deportment; They Will, I Hope, No Longer Annoy You When Next We

     Meet. You Must Not Call Mrs. J---- My Friend, For I Do Not. I Like

     Her Much, And I See A Great Deal To Esteem And Admire In Her, But I

1 ... 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 ... 52
Go to page:

Free e-book «Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) - Frances Ann Kemble (sad books to read TXT) 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment