The Refuge of the Mutineers. The Mutiny. On a profoundly calm and most beautiful evening towards the end of the last century, a ship lay becalmed on the fair bosom of the Pacific Ocean. Although there was nothing piratical in the aspect of the ship—if we except her guns—a few of the men who formed her crew might have been easily mistaken for roving buccaneers. There was a certain swagger in the... more...

CHAPTER I. RUPERT'S LECTURES—THE OLD YELLOW LEATHER BOOK. We were very happy—I, Rupert, Henrietta, and Baby Cecil. The only thing we found fault with in our lives was that there were so few events in them. It was particularly provoking, because we were so well prepared for events—any events. Rupert prepared us. He had found a fat old book in the garret, bound in yellow leather, at the end of... more...

INTRODUCTION How was the world discovered? That is to say, how did a certain set of men who lived round the Mediterranean Sea, and had acquired the art of recording what each generation had learned, become successively aware of the other parts of the globe? Every part of the earth, so far as we know, has been inhabited by man during the five or six thousand years in which Europeans have been storing up... more...

The Ability to communicate ideas from one individual to another," said a professor of sociology to his class, "is the principal distinction between human beings and their brute forbears. The increase and refinement of this ability to communicate is an index of the degree of civilization of a people. The more civilized a people, the more perfect their ability to communicate, especially under... more...

Wreck of Winstanley’s Lighthouse. “At mischief again, of course: always at it.” Mrs Potter said this angrily, and with much emphasis, as she seized her son by the arm and dragged him out of a pool of dirty water, into which he had tumbled. “Always at mischief of one sort or another, he is,” continued Mrs Potter, with increasing wrath, “morning, noon, and night—he is; tumblin’ about... more...

COLUMBINE: Pierrot, a macaroon! I cannot live without a macaroon! PIERROT: My only love, You are so intense! . . . Is it Tuesday, Columbine?— I'll kiss you if it's Tuesday. COLUMBINE: It is Wednesday, If you must know . . . . Is this my artichoke, Or yours? PIERROT: Ah, Columbine,—as if it mattered! Wednesday . . . . Will it be Tuesday, then, to-morrow, By any chance? COLUMBINE: To-morrow... more...

ENOCH ARDEN.   Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm;  And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands;  Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf  In cluster; then a moulder'd church; and higher  A long street climbs to one tall-tower'd mill;  And high in heaven behind it a gray down  With Danish barrows; and a hazelwood,  By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes  Green in a... more...

INTRODUCTION The Theatre, by "Sir John Falstaffe", is according to its author a continuation of Richard Steele's periodical of the same name. Shortly after Steele brought his paper to a close on April 5, 1720, the anonymous author who called himself "Falstaffe" appropriated his title; or if we prefer Falstaffe's own account of the matter, he was bequeathed the title upon the... more...

CHAPTER I. The beginning—My early life and character—I thirst for adventure in foreign lands and go to sea. Roving has always been, and still is, my ruling passion, the joy of my heart, the very sunshine of my existence.  In childhood, in boyhood, and in man’s estate, I have been a rover; not a mere rambler among the woody glens and upon the hill-tops of my own native land, but an enthusiastic... more...

PART 1. Ch. 1. 1. The Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Tao. The name that can be named is not the enduring and unchanging name. 2. (Conceived of as) having no name, it is the Originator of heaven and earth; (conceived of as) having a name, it is the Mother of all things. 3. Always without desire we must be found,If its deep mystery we would sound;But if desire always within us... more...