Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. The breaking waves dashed highOn a stern and rock-hound coast:And the woods against a stormy sky,Their giant branches tost.And the heavy night hung darkThe hills and waters o'er,When a hand of exiles moored their barkOn the wild New England shore. HEMANS. It was, indeed, a stern and rock-bound coast beneath which the gallant little Mayflower furled her tattered sails, and dropped her... more...

1. The Way to Butterfield "Please, miss," said the shaggy man, "can you tell me the road to Butterfield?" Dorothy looked him over. Yes, he was shaggy, all right, but there was a twinkle in his eye that seemed pleasant. "Oh yes," she replied; "I can tell you. But it isn't this road at all." "No?" "You cross the ten-acre lot, follow the lane to the... more...

MATTHEW ARNOLD THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM The critical power is of lower rank than the creative. True; but in assenting to this proposition, one or two things are to be kept in mind. It is undeniable that the exercise of a creative power, that a free creative activity, is the true function of man; it is proved to be so by man’s finding in it his true happiness. But it is undeniable, also, that men may... more...

CHAPTER I. HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. We are at Como, on the lake—that spot so beloved of opera dancers—the day-dream of prima donnas—the Elysium of retired barytones! And with what reason should this be the Paradise of all who have lived and sighed, and warbled and pirouetted, within the charmed circle of the footlights? The crystal waters mirroring every cliff and crag with intense... more...

CHAPTERONE           He watched from the quarterdeck as the chain fed through the whitecaps of the bay, its staccato clatter muffled, hollow in the midday heat. Then he sensed the anchor grab and felt an uneasy tremor pass along the hull as the links snapped taut against the tide. The cannon were already run in and cooling, but vagrant threads of smoke still traced skyward through the scuttles... more...

Thursday the Nineteenth Splash!... That's me, Matilda Anne! That's me falling plump into the pool of matrimony before I've had time to fall in love! And oh, Matilda Anne, Matilda Anne, I've got to talk to you! You may be six thousand miles away, but still you've got to be my safety-valve. I'd blow up and explode if I didn't express myself to some one. For it's so... more...

WHAT IRISHMEN MAY DO FOR IRISH LITERATURE. Speaking to a Society of young Irishmen who love their country and burn to serve her, I am tempted to broach a subject which has long lain in my mind, waiting for the fit audience. The famine of 1846 paralysed many forces in Ireland, and none more disastrously than our growing literature. How little has been done in the region of mind since that calamity, and... more...

CHAPTER I. THE OLD COMMANDER. Elle avait un vice, l'orgueil, qui lui tenait lieu de toutes les qualites. She had one fault, pride, which, in her, answered in place of all the virtues. Commander Bernard, a resident of Paris, after having served under the Empire in the Marine Corps, and under the Restoration as a lieutenant in the navy, was retired about the year 1830, with the brevet rank of... more...

PREFACE A picture of life in the fifth century must needs contain much which will be painful to any reader, and which the young and innocent will do well to leave altogether unread. It has to represent a very hideous, though a very great, age; one of those critical and cardinal eras in the history of the human race, in which virtues and vices manifest themselves side by side—even, at times, in the... more...

INTRODUCTION Among the decisive events of the Revolutionary struggle, Burgoyne's campaign deservedly holds the foremost place, as well for what it led to, as for what it was in inception and execution—at once the most daring, most quixotic, and most disastrous effort of the whole war. Burgoyne was himself, in some respects, so remarkable a man that any picture of his exploits must needs be more... more...