Showing: 841-850 results of 1453

by: Various
HADDON HALL. The locomotive facility with which the aid of our graphic department enables us to transport our readers, (for we have already sent them to Sydney,) is somewhat singular, not to say ludicrous; and would baffle the wand of Trismegistus, or the cap of Fortunatus himself. Thus, during the last six weeks we have journeyed from the Palace at Stockholm (No. 277) to that of Buckingham, in St.... more...

by: Various
NOTES UNPUBLISHED LETTER OF HORACE WALPOLE I have the pleasure of inclosing to you (I believe) an unpublished letter of Horace Walpole's. It was found among the papers of the late William Parsons, one of the Della Cruscan poets. That it is genuine I have no doubt. The handwriting is precisely similar to a note sent with a copy of the Mysterious Mother to Mr. Parsons, in which Horace Walpole... more...

by: Various
CHAPTER I. We were in mid-ocean. Over the vast expanses of the oily sea no ripple was to be seen although Captain BABBIJAM kept his binoculars levelled at the silent horizon for three-quarters of an hour by the saloon clock. Far away in the murky distance of the mysterious empyrean, a single star flashed with a weird brilliance down upon the death-like stillness of the immemorial ocean. Yet the good... more...

by: Various
ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR. This venerable structure, as we explained in No. 486 of The Mirror, is situated in the lower ward or court of Windsor Castle. It stands in the centre, and in a manner, divides the court into two parts. On the north or inner side are the houses and apartments of the Dean and Canons of St. George's Chapel, with those of the minor canons, clerks, and other officers;... more...

by: Various
OUGHT WOMEN TO LEARN THE ALPHABET? Paris smiled, for an hour or two, in the year 1801, when, amidst Napoleon's mighty projects for remodelling the religion and government of his empire, the ironical satirist, Sylvain Maréchal, thrust in his "Plan for a Law prohibiting the Alphabet to Women." Daring, keen, sarcastic, learned, the little tract retains to-day so much of its pungency, that we... more...

by: Various
AUTOGRAPHS. It is long since our pages were illustrated with such characteristic lineaments as those on the opposite page. The reader will, however, perceive that we have not entirely forgotten the quaint motto from Shenstone, in our earlier volumes— "I want to see Mrs. Jago's handwriting, that I may judge of her temper." Still the annexed Autographs have not been drawn from our own... more...

by: Various
AUGUST 20, 1887. (To be translated into French, German, and Italian, for the benefit of Foreigners.) In the Train.Continental Railways are disgracefully mismanaged. This train does not travel at anything like the rate of our expresses. The "Flying Scotchman" travels at 50, 100, or 150 (according to fancy) miles the hour. I object to smoking; also wish all the windows to be opened or closed (as... more...

by: Various
CHAPTER I. DAWNATION. A modern American Ritualistic Spire! How can the modern American Ritualistic Spire be here! The well-known tapering brown Spire, like a closed umbrella on end? How can that be here? There is no rusty rim of a shocking bad hat between the eye and that Spire in the real prospect. What is the rusty rim that now intervenes, and confuses the vision of at least one eye? It must be an... more...

by: Various
CONSTANTINOPLE CONSTANTINOPLE. "Queen of the Morn! Sultana of the East!" The splendour and extent of Constantinople are not within the compass of one of our pages; but the annexed Engraving furnishes some idea of a section of this queen of cities. It extends from Seraglio Point to the Janissaries' Tower, and though commanding only a portion of the city, includes the domes of the... more...

by: Various
THE BEETLE OF BUDA-PESTH. AN UNRECORDED EPISODE OF THE GREAT WAR. The War being now practically at an end and Austria-Hungary irrevocably broken up, I am able to recount an adventure, in which I was involved, that occurred at Buda-Pesth in the second week of August, 1914. Seated at a café on the famous Franz-Josef Quai, I was sipping coffee, after an excellent lunch, with Frederick, whose surname I... more...