Philosophy of Historyby HegelTable of ContentsIntroductionO The subject of this course of Lectures is the Philosophical History of the World.SECTION ONE: Original History§ 1 They simply transferred what was passing in the world around them, to the realm ofrepresentative intellect.§ 2 The influences that have formed the writer are identical with those which have moulded theevents that constitute the matter of his story.§ 3 What the historian puts into the mouths of orators is an uncorrupted transcript of their...
The Cruise of the DolphinThe Cruise of theDolphinby Thomas Bailey Aldrich1- Page 2-The Cruise of the Dolphin(1 An episode from The Story of a Bad Boy, the narrator being TomBailey, the hero of the tale.)Every Rivermouth boy looks upon the sea as being in some waymixed up with his destiny. While he is yet a baby lying in his cradle, hehears the dull, far-off boom of the breakers; when he is older, he wanders...
Green Mansions A Romance of the Tropical Forestby W. H. HudsonFOREWORDI take up pen for this foreword with the fear of one who knows that he cannot do justice to his subject, and the trembling of one who would not, for a good deal, set down words unpleasing to the eye of him who wrote Green Mansions, The Purple Land, and all those other books which have meant so much to me. For of all living authorsnow that Tolstoi has gone I could least dispense with W. H. Hudson. Why do I love his writing so? I think because he is, of living writers that I read, the rarest spirit, and has the clearest gi
THE LIFTED VEILTHE LIFTED VEILby George Eliot [Mary Anne Evans]1- Page 2-THE LIFTED VEILCHAPTER IThe time of my end approaches. I have lately been subject to attacksof angina pectoris; and in the ordinary course of things, my physician tellsme, I may fairly hope that my life will not be protracted many months.Unless, then, I am cursed with an exceptional physical constitution, as I...
Chapter X of Volume III (Chap. 52)ELIZABETH had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches and prepared to be happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not contain a denial.``Gracechurch-street, Sept. 6.MY DEAR NIECE,I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole morning to answering it, as I foresee that a little writing will not comprise what I have to tell you
1872FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE STORY OF A MOTHERby Hans Christian AndersenA MOTHER sat by her little child; she was very sad, for she fearedit would die. It was quite pale, and its little eyes were closed,and sometimes it drew a heavy deep breath, almost like a sigh; andthen the mother gazed more sadly than ever on the poor littlecreature. Some one knocked at the door, and a poor old man walkedin. He was wrapped in something that looked like a greathorse-cloth; and he required it truly to keep him warm, for it wascold winter; the country everywhere lay covered with snow and ice
RECORDS OF A FAMILY OF ENGINEERSRECORDS OF AFAMILY OF ENGINEERSROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON1- Page 2-RECORDS OF A FAMILY OF ENGINEERSINTRODUCTIONTHE SURNAME OF STEVENSONFROM the thirteenth century onwards, the name, under the variousdisguises of Stevinstoun, Stevensoun, Stevensonne, Stenesone, andStewinsoune, spread across Scotland from the mouth of the Firth of Forth...
Saturday night, Coconut Grove. It was the usual scene: thousands of people, not one of whom a normal person would call normal. There were the European tourists, getting off their big fume-belching buses, wearing their new jeans and their Hard Rock Cafe T-shirts, which they bought when their charter bus stopped in Orlando. They moved in chattering clots, following their flag-waving tour directors, lining up outside Planet Hollywood, checking out the wall where famous movie stars had made impressions of their hands in the cement squares, taking videos of each other putting their palms in the e
DREAD THERE IS NO delight the equal of dread. If it were possible to sit, invisible, between two people on any train, in any waiting room or office, the conversation overheard would time and again circle on that subject. Certainly the debate might appear to be about something entirely different; the state of the nation, idle chat about death on the roads, the rising price of dental care; but strip away the metaphor, the innuendo, and there, nestling at the heart of the discourse, is dread. While the nature of God, and the possibility of eternal life go undiscussed, we happily chew over the
Flip: A California Romanceby Bret HarteCHAPTER IJust where the track of the Los Gatos road streams on and upwardlike the sinuous trail of a fiery rocket until it is extinguishedin the blue shadows of the Coast Range, there is an embayed terracenear the summit, hedged by dwarf firs. At every bend of the heat-laden road the eye rested upon it wistfully; all along the flank ofthe mountain, which seemed to pant and quiver in the oven-like air,through rising dust, the slow creaking of dragging wheels, themonotonous cry of tired springs, and the muffled beat of plunging...
Female Suffrageby Susan Fenimore CooperA LETTER TO THE CHRISTIAN WOMEN OF AMERICA.Part I.The natural position of woman is clearly, to a limited degree, asubordinate one. Such it has always been throughout the world, in allages, and in many widely different conditions of society. There arethree conclusive reasons why we should expect it to continue so forthe future.FIRST. Woman in natural physical strength is so greatly inferior toman that she is entirely in his power, quite incapable of self-defense, trusting to his generosity for protection. In savage life this...
The Heir of Redclyffeby Charlotte M. YoungeCHAPTER 1In such pursuits if wisdom lies,Who, Laura, can thy taste despise?GAYThe drawing-room of Hollywell House was one of the favoured apartments,where a peculiar air of home seems to reside, whether seen in themiddle of summer, all its large windows open to the garden, or, as whenour story commences, its bright fire and stands of fragrant green-houseplants contrasted with the wintry fog and leafless trees of November.There were two persons in the rooma young lady, who sat drawing at...
ELECBOOK CLASSICSBARNABYRUDGECharles Dickens- Page 2-BARNABYRUDGEA TALE OF THE RIOTSOF ‘EIGHTY’Charles Dickens- Page 3-Barnaby Rudge 4ContentsClick on number to go to ChapterChapter 1................................................................................................13...
An Accursed Raceby Elizabeth GaskellWe have our prejudices in England. Or, if that assertion offends anyof my readers, I will modify it: we have had our prejudices inEngland. We have tortured Jews; we have burnt Catholics andProtestants, to say nothing of a few witches and wizards. We havesatirized Puritans, and we have dressed-up Guys. But, after all, Ido not think we have been so bad as our Continental friends. To besure, our insular position has kept us free, to a certain degree,from the inroads of alien races; who, driven from one land of refuge,...
TWICE-TOLD TALESTHE AMBITIOUS GUESTby Nathaniel HawthorneONE SEPTEMBER NIGHT a family had gathered round their hearth, andpiled it high with the driftwood of mountain streams, the dry cones ofthe pine, and the splintered ruins of great trees that had comecrashing down the precipice. Up the chimney roared the fire, andbrightened the room with its broad blaze. The faces of the fatherand mother had a sober gladness; the children laughed; the eldestdaughter was the image of Happiness at seventeen; and the aged...
IThe man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what might have been parsecs in all directions. White; blinding; waterless; without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon and the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death. An occasional tombstone sign pointed the way, for once the drifted track that cut its way through the thick crust of alkali had been a highway and coaches had followed it. The world had moved on since the