Classics Books

The Summons of the North N the mystic gloom and the incalculable cold of the long Arctic night, when Death seemed the only inhabitant of the limitless vasts of ice and snow, the white bear cub was born. Over the desolate expanses swept the awful polar wind, now thick with fine, crystalline snow which volleyed and whirled and bit like points of steel, now glassy clear, so that the great, unwavering... more...

INTRODUCTORY A well known missionary of Peking, China, was invited one day by a Buddhist acquaintance to attend the ceremony of initiation for a class of one hundred and eighty priests and some twenty laity who had been undergoing preparatory instruction at the stately and important Buddhist monastery. The beautiful courts of the temple were filled by a throng of invited guests and spectators, waiting... more...

Nothing more generally or more recurrently solicits us, in the light of literature, I think, than the interest of our learning how the poet, the true poet, and above all the particular one with whom we may for the moment be concerned, has come into his estate, asserted and preserved his identity, worked out his question of sticking to that and to nothing else; and has so been able to reach us and touch... more...

I LONDON A GENERAL SKETCH [Footnote: From articles written for the Toronto "Week."Afterward (1888) issued by The Macmillan Company in the volume entitled"The Trip to England."] BY GOLDWIN SMITH The huge city perhaps never imprest the imagination more than when approaching it by night on the top of a coach you saw its numberless lights flaring, as Tennyson says, "like a dreary... more...

ACT I. SCENE I. At the Chancellor's House. COUNSELLOR FLEFFEL, LEWIS BROOK, at Breakfast. Enter a Servant. Counsellor (to the Servant). Take away. But, no—let it stand; my father may chuse some: is he returned? Servant. I'll enquire, Sir. [Exit Servant. Counsellor [rising and viewing himself]. We've made a long breakfast. Lewis. But you have eaten nothing. Counsellor. Why, my dear... more...

t being suggested that a History of the Seventh Ohio Volunteer Cavalry be written, the honor was conferred upon me. Not being a historian or even a letter writer, I feel myself entirely incompetent to do justice to the Regiment that has done so much good service. In writing a historical account of the of this Regiment, I shall have to rely almost exclusively on memory, owing to the fact that all the... more...

CHAPTER I. It was a beautiful May-day morning when George Green rose at an early hour; for it was his birthday, and he had not been able to sleep so long as usual, for counting of the joyful anniversary. "Ten years old, are you indeed, my boy?" said his father, who found Master George eagerly awaiting him in the breakfast parlour. "Yes, papa; and I am to have a whole holiday, and mamma has... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SNAKE AND THE SOUL. When Colonel Matthew Devon de Warrenne, V.C., D.S.O., of the Queen's Own (118th) Bombay Lancers, pinned his Victoria Cross to the bosom of his dying wife's night-dress, in token of his recognition that she was the braver of the twain, he was not himself. He was beside himself with grief. Afterwards he adjured the sole witness of this impulsive and emotional... more...

SCENE I.—MUSIC MASTER, DANCING MASTER, THREE SINGERS, TWO VIOLIN PLAYERS, FOUR DANCERS. MUS. MAS. (to the MUSICIANS). Come into this room, and rest till he comes. DAN. MAS. (to the DANCERS). Come also, on this side. MUS. MAS. (to his PUPIL). Have you finished? PUP. Yes. MUS. MAS. Let me see. Very good. DAN. MAS. Is it anything new? MUS. MAS. Yes; it is an air for a serenade that I made him compose... more...

I. ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. (AN ADDRESS TO THE MEMBERS OF THE MIDLAND INSTITUTE, OCTOBER 9TH, 1871.) To me, and, as I trust, to the great majority of those whom I address, the great attempt to educate the people of England which has just been set afoot, is one of the most satisfactory and hopeful events in our modern history. But it is impossible, even if it were desirable, to shut our eyes to the... more...