Fiction Books

THOUGHTS ON CHRISTIANITY. I. WHAT IS CHRISTIANITY? This question refers to a matter of fact. I do not ask whether the Christian religion is true, but only, What is the Christian religion? What is that religion which has existed for eighteen centuries; which is professed by Christendom; and which has been more precious than life itself to millions who have died in its faith, and is so still to millions... more...

CHAPTER I LITTLE JIM Little Jim knew that something strange had happened, because Big Jim, his father, had sold their few head of cattle, the work team, and the farm implements, keeping only the two saddle-horses and the pack-horse, Filaree. When Little Jim asked where his mother had gone, Big Jim told him that she had gone on a visit, and would be away a long time. Little Jim wanted to know if his... more...

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I It began somewhere in the middle of the world, between London which is the beginning and New York which is the end, where all things are east of the one and west of the other. To be precise, a forlorn landing on the west bank of the muddy turbulent Irrawaddy, remembered by man only so often as it was necessary for the flotilla boat to call for paddy, a visiting commissioner anxious to get away, or a... more...

I INTERESTS, OPPORTUNITY AND MATERIALS Two strong interests come to expression in this report: the one in the study of the adaptive or ideational behavior of the monkeys and the apes; and the other in adequate and permanent provision for the thorough study of all aspects of the lives of these animals. The values of these interests and of the tasks which they have led me to undertake are so widely... more...

Pleasant Receptions. “Ax.” “I was asking, or axing, as you call it, my man. I said, Is that Dumford, down there in the valley?” “And I said axe, or arks, as you call it, my man,” was the surly, defiant reply. The last speaker looked up savagely from the block of stone on which he was seated, and the questioner looked down from where he stood on the rough track. There was a quiet,... more...

STEPHEN CRANE: AN ESTIMATE It hardly profits us to conjecture what Stephen Crane might have written about the World War had he lived. Certainly, he would have been in it, in one capacity or another. No man had a greater talent for war and personal adventure, nor a finer art in describing it. Few writers of recent times could so well describe the poetry of motion as manifested in the surge and flow of... more...

CHAPTER I THE BROKEN WIRE Winter had begun and snow blew about the lonely telegraph shack where Jim Dearham studied an old French romance. He read rather by way of mental discipline than for enjoyment, and partly with the object of keeping himself awake. Life is primitive in the British Columbian bush and Jim sometimes felt he must fight against the insidious influence of the wilds. Although he had... more...

PARTURITION WITHOUT PAIN. For some time past, my attention has been directed to the use of anæsthetics in parturition. I had often been requested by patients to administer chloroform to them during labour, but I had seen the ill effects of this drug in one instance so strongly and almost fatally developed, that I shrank from its use. After considerable reflection on the subject, I thought that if a... more...

Salem, June 15, 1835.—A walk down to the Juniper. The shore of the coves strewn with bunches of sea-weed, driven in by recent winds. Eel-grass, rolled and bundled up, and entangled with it,—large marine vegetables, of an olive-color, with round, slender, snake-like stalks, four or five feet long, and nearly two feet broad: these are the herbage of the deep sea. Shoals of fishes, at a little... more...