Fiction Books

I REBIRTH   To me no mortal but a spirit blest,  A Light-girt messenger of Love art thou—  The radiant star of Hope upon thy brow.  The thrice-pure fire of Love within thy breast!  Thou comest to me as a heavenly guest,  As God's fulfilment of the purest vow  Love's heart e'er made—thou com'st to show e'en now   The Infinite, th' Eternal and the Best!... more...

CHAPTER I CHILDHOOD AND APPRENTICESHIP William Blake was born on November 28th, 1757, at 28 Broad Street, Carnaby Market, Golden Square. To-day a large house stands in Broad Street numbered 28, to which is attached a blue disk announcing that William Blake, Poet and Artist, was born there. The house looks old and shabby, and may well have stood a hundred years; but on inquiry one finds that it is a... more...

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CHAPTER I IF THEMISTOCLES HAD NOT BEATENARISTIDES IN AN ATHENIANELECTION Mithra instead of Jesus! The western world Zoroastrian, not Christian! The Persian Redeemer, always called the Light of the World in their scriptures; the helper of Ahura-Mazda, the Almighty, in his warfare with Ahriman, or Satan; the intercessor for men with the Creator; the Saviour of humanity; he, Mithra, might have been the... more...

CHAPTER I THE GRAY SEAL Among New York's fashionable and ultra-exclusive clubs, the St. James stood an acknowledged leader—more men, perhaps, cast an envious eye at its portals, of modest and unassuming taste, as they passed by on Fifth Avenue, than they did at any other club upon the long list that the city boasts. True, there were more expensive clubs upon whose membership roll scintillated... more...

GARDEN AND FOREST will be devoted to Horticulture in all its branches, Garden Botany, Dendrology and Landscape Gardening, and will discuss Plant Diseases and Insects injurious to vegetation. Professor C. S. Sargent, of Harvard College, will have general editorial control of GARDEN AND FOREST. Professor Wm. G. Farlow, of Harvard College, will have editorial charge of the Department of Cryptogamic Botany... more...

The day had scarcely dawned.--Over Vesuvius hung one broad grey stripe of mist; stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. But about the marina of the narrow creek, that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, with giant cables drawing their boats to land, and the nets that had been cast the night... more...

I Two old labourers came out of the lane leading to Great End Farm. Both carried bags slung on sticks over their shoulders. One, the eldest and tallest, was a handsome fellow, with regular features and a delicately humorous mouth. His stoop and his slouching gait, the gray locks also, which straggled from under his broad hat, showed him an old man—probably very near his old-age pension. But he... more...

CHAPTER I THE LITTLE CARRS I was sitting in the meadows one day, not long ago, at a place where there was a small brook. It was a hot day. The sky was very blue, and white clouds, like great swans, went floating over it to and fro. Just opposite me was a clump of green rushes, with dark velvety spikes, and among them one single tall, red cardinal flower, which was bending over the brook as if to see... more...

I.—GENERAL. A most distinctive class of ancient Irish literature, and probably the class that is least popularly familiar, is the hagiographical.  It is, the present writer ventures to submit, as valuable as it is distinctive and as well worthy of study as it is neglected.  While annals, tales and poetry have found editors the Lives of Irish Saints have remained largely a mine unworked.  Into the... more...