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The Life and Poetry of James Beattie James Beattie, the author of the Minstrel was born at Laurencekirk, in the county of Kincardineshire—a village situated in that beautiful trough of land called the Howe of the Mearns, and surmounted by the ridge of the Garvock Hills, which divide it from the German Ocean—on the 25th day of October 1735. His father, who was a small farmer and shopkeeper, and who... more...

I. IN THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR COMMODUS Golden Antioch lay like a jewel at a mountain's throat. Wide, intersecting streets, each nearly four miles long, granite-paved, and marble-colonnaded, swarmed with fashionable loiterers. The gay Antiochenes, whom nothing except frequent earthquakes interrupted from pursuit of pleasure, were taking the air in chariots, in litters, and on foot; their linen... more...

THE VALLEY OF THE OUYSSE AND ROC-AMADOUR. From the Old-English town of Martel, in Guyenne, I turned southward towards the Dordogne. For a few miles the road lay over a barren plateau; then it skirted a desolate gorge with barely a trace of vegetation upon its naked sides, save the desert loving box clinging to the white stones. A little stream that flowed here led down into the rich valley of Creysse,... more...

It was on a morning of the lovely New England May that we left the horse- car, and, spreading our umbrellas, walked down the street to our new home in Charlesbridge, through a storm of snow and rain so finely blent by the influences of this fortunate climate, that no flake knew itself from its sister drop, or could be better identified by the people against whom they beat in unison. A vernal gale from... more...

THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE. BY AN EYE-WITNESS. In 1837 I was a resident in Galata, one of the faubourgs of Constantinople, sufficiently near the scenes of death caused by the ravages of the plague to be thoroughly acquainted with them, and yet to be separated from the Turkish part of the population of that immense city. It is not material to the present sketch to dwell upon the subject of my previous... more...

CHAPTER I. DEWLESS ROSES. Mrs. Rachel Sutton was a born match maker, and she had cultivated the gift by diligent practice. As the sight of a tendrilled vine suggests the need and fitness of a trellis, and a stray glove invariably brings to mind the thought of its absent fellow, so every disengaged spinster of marriageable age was an appeal—pathetic and sure—to the dear woman's helpful... more...

To R. T.Three Guests at dinner! That's the life!—Wedgewood, Revere, and Duncan Phyfe! IIYou sit on Duncan—when you dare,—And out of Wedgewood, using care,With Paul Revere you eat your fare.From Paul you borrow fork and knifeTo wage a gastronomic strifeIn porringers; and platters rareOf blue Historic Willow-ware. IVBanquets with cymbal, drum and fife,Or rose-wreathed feasts with riot rifeTo... more...

WHO GOES THERE? THE ADVANCE"Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm."--Shakespeare. In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It was July 16, 1861. The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia." I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these orders, except two... more...

SIR THOMAS MORE 1478-1535 To MARGARET ROPER 'Wyth a cole' from prison [1535.] Myne owne good doughter, our lorde be thanked I am in good helthe of bodye, and in good quiet of minde: and of worldly thynges I no more desyer then I have. I beseche hym make you all mery in the hope of heaven. And such thynges as I somewhat longed to talke with you all, concerning the worlde to come, our Lord put... more...