Classics Books

CHAPTER I. THE BUILDING OF THE ABBEY. Twelve hundred years ago, in the reign of King Sebert the Saxon, a poor fisherman called Edric, was casting his nets one Sunday night into the Thames. He lived on the Isle of Thorns, a dry spot in the marshes, some three miles up the river from the Roman fortress of London. The silvery Thames washed against the island's gravelly shores. It was covered with... more...

Prologue. We were talking about Rorke’s Drift and of Kambúla, in the battles fought at which places these two warriors had borne arms. They were fine, tall, martial-looking Zulus, and both head-ringed. They carried small shields, and a perfect arsenal of assegais—beautifully-made weapons for the most part. With none of these, however, could they be induced to part. “What should you white people... more...

PREFACE The idea of this tale was taken from The Mariners’ Chronicle, compiled by a person named Scott early in the last century—a curious book of narratives of maritime adventures, with exceedingly quaint illustrations.  Nothing has ever shown me more plainly that truth is stranger than fiction, for all that is most improbable here is the actual fact. The Comte de Bourke was really an Irish... more...

Introductory [Sidenote: Political thought in Middle Ages.] The period of three centuries which forms our theme is the central period of the Middle Ages. Its interests are manifold; but they almost all centre round the great struggle between Empire and Papacy, which gives to mediaeval history an unity conspicuously lacking in more modern times. The history of the Church during these three hundred years... more...

INTRODUCTION FOR ELDERS In reading several dozen books on sex matters for the young with a view to selecting the best for my own children, I found none that I was willing to put into their hands, without first guarding them against what I considered very misleading and harmful impressions, which they would otherwise be sure to acquire in reading them. That is the excuse for this article. It is far more... more...

When he reached Ophiuchus, Johnny Mayhem was wearing the body of an elderly Sirian gentleman. Nothing could have been more incongruous. The Sirian wore a pince-nez, a dignified two-piece jumper in a charcoal color, sedate two-tone boots and a black string-tie. The loiterers in the street near the Galactic Observer's building looked, and pointed, and laughed. Using the dignity of the dead Sirian,... more...

PREFACE This volume, "Therese Raquin," was Zola's third book, but it was the one that first gave him notoriety, and made him somebody, as the saying goes. While still a clerk at Hachette's at eight pounds a month, engaged in checking and perusing advertisements and press notices, he had already in 1864 published the first series of "Les Contes a Ninon"—a reprint of short... more...

Where the Five Rivers flow down to meet the swinging of the Minas tides, and the Great Cape of Blomidon bars out the storm and the fog, lies half a county of rich meadow-lands and long-arcaded orchards. It is a deep-bosomed land, a land of fat cattle, of well-filled barns, of ample cheeses and strong cider; and a well-conditioned folk inhabit it. But behind this countenance of gladness and peace broods... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ADAMS FAMILY.    "'There was a little girl,   And she had a little curl, And it hung right down over her forehead;   And when she was good,   She was very, very good, And when she was bad, she was horrid!'" "And that's you!" chanted Polly Adams in a vigorous crescendo, as she watched the retreating figure of her guest. Then climbing down from... more...

CHAPTER I I had, I suppose, some reason for calling on Canon Beresford, but I have totally forgotten what it was. In all probability my mother sent me to discuss some matter connected with the management of the parish or the maintenance of the fabric of the church. I was then, and still am, a church warden. The office is hereditary in my family. My son—Miss Pettigrew recommended my having several... more...