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Гарриет Бичер-Стоу. Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe
Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. CHILDHOOD, 1811–1824
CHAPTER II. SCHOOL DAYS IN HARTFORD, 1824–1832
CHAPTER III. CINCINNATI, 1832–1836
CHAPTER IV. EARLY MARRIED LIFE, 1836–1840
CHAPTER V. POVERTY AND SICKNESS, 1840–1850
CHAPTER VI. REMOVAL TO BRUNSWICK, 1850–1852
CHAPTER VII. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN, 1852
CHAPTER VIII. FIRST TRIP TO EUROPE, 1853
CHAPTER IX. SUNNY MEMORIES, 1853
CHAPTER X. FROM OVER THE SEA, 1853
CHAPTER XI. HOME AGAIN, 1853–1856
CHAPTER XII. DRED, 1856
CHAPTER XIII. OLD SCENES REVISITED, 1856
CHAPTER XIV. THE MINISTER'S WOOING, 1857–1859
CHAPTER XV. THE THIRD TRIP TO EUROPE, 1859
CHAPTER XVI. THE CIVIL WAR, 1860–1865
CHAPTER XVII. FLORIDA, 1865–1869
CHAPTER XVIII. OLDTOWN FOLKS, 1869
CHAPTER XIX. THE BYRON CONTROVERSY, 1869–1870
CHAPTER XX. GEORGE ELIOT
CHAPTER XXI. CLOSING SCENES, 1870–1889
INDEX
FOOTNOTES:
Отрывок из книги
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Compiled From Her Letters and Journals by Her Son Charles Edward Stowe
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In the mean time, the school is prospering. February 16, 1827, Catherine writes to Dr. Beecher: "My affairs go on well. The stock is all taken up, and next week I hope to have out the prospectus of the 'Hartford Female Seminary.' I hope the building will be done, and all things in order, by June. The English lady is coming with twelve pupils from New York." Speaking of Harriet, who was at this time with her father in Boston, she adds: "I have received some letters from Harriet to-day which make me feel uneasy. She says, 'I don't know as I am fit for anything, and I have thought that I could wish to die young, and let the remembrance of me and my faults perish in the grave, rather than live, as I fear I do, a trouble to every one. You don't know how perfectly wretched I often feel: so useless, so weak, so destitute of all energy. Mamma often tells me that I am a strange, inconsistent being. Sometimes I could not sleep, and have groaned and cried till midnight, while in the daytime I tried to appear cheerful and succeeded so well that papa reproved me for laughing so much. I was so absent sometimes that I made strange mistakes, and then they all laughed at me, and I laughed, too, though I felt as though I should go distracted. I wrote rules; made out a regular system for dividing my time; but my feelings vary so much that it is almost impossible for me to be regular.'"
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