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Algernon Blackwood Anthony Hope Anthony Trollope Anton Chekhov Arthur Conan Doyle Arthur Quiller-Couch Baroness Orczy Benjamin Disraeli Charles Dickens Dinah Craik E. Phillips Oppenheim Edith Wharton Elizabeth Gaskell Eugene Sue F. Marion Crawford G.A. Henty G.K. Chesterton George Gissing George Meredith Gertrude Atherton H. Rider Haggard H.G. Wells Hamlin Garland Henry James Honore de Balzac Horatio Alger Ivan Turgenev Jack London James Fenimore Cooper Joseph Conrad L. Frank Baum L.M. Montgomery Louisa May Alcott Luise Mühlbach Mrs. Humphry Ward Mrs. Oliphant P.G. Wodehouse Robert Louis Stevenson Sax Rohmer Thomas Hardy Upton Sinclair W. Somerset Maugham Walter Besant Wilkie Collins William Dean Howells William Makepeace Thackeray Brantz Mayer A.T. Mahan Adolf Hitler Agatha Christie Albert Jay Nock Alexandre Dumas Andrew Lang Ann Radcliffe Anne Brontë Anonymous Aristotle Bible Book Booker T. Washington Bram Stoker Brooks Adams Captain Russell Grenfell Cesare Lombroso Charles Callan Tansill Charles Darwin Charlotte Brontë Clark Howard Confucius David Gordon David Howden David Irving David Ray Griffin E.A. Ross Eden Phillpotts Edgar Allan Poe Edward Bellamy Edward Gibbon Elbert Hubbard Ellsworth Huntington Emile Zola Emily Brontë Evan Whitton Evelyn Dewey F. Scott Fitzgerald Fanny Burney Faustino Ballvé Felix Adler Ford Madox Ford Francis Parkman Frank Chodorov Frank Norris Frank R. Stockton Frederick Jackson Turner Friedrich A. Hayek Friedrich Engels Fyodor Dostoyevsky G.E. Mitton George Eliot George Jean Nathan Gustav Gottheil Gustave Flaubert Guy de Maupassant H.L. Mencken Hans-Hermann Hoppe Harriet Beecher Stowe Harry Elmer Barnes Heinrich Graetz Heinrich Heine Henry Adams Henry Fielding Henry Ford Henry M. Stanley Henryk Sienkiewicz Herbert Westbrook Herman Melville Hermann Hesse Herodotus Homer Hubert Howe Bancroft Hugh Lofting Isabel Paterson J.M. Barrie Jacob A. Riis James Hayden Tufts James Huneker James Joyce James Rice Jane Addams Jane Austen Jared Taylor Jefferson Davis Jeffrey Tucker John Dewey John Dos Passos John Galsworthy John Maynard Keynes John Reed John Stuart Mill John T. Flynn Jonathan Swift Jules Verne Karl Marx Kenneth Grahame Kevin Barrett Kevin MacDonald Knut Hamsun Laurence Sterne Lawrence H. White Leo Tolstoy Leon Trotsky Lewis Carroll Livy Llewellyn H. Rockwell Jr. Lord Acton Lord Dunsany Lothrop Stoddard Ludwig von Mises Lysander Spooner Marcel Proust Maria Edgeworth Maria Monk Mark Twain Mary Shelley Mary White Ovington Max Eastman Max Nordau Maxim Gorky Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra Mungo Park Murray N. Rothbard Nathaniel Hawthorne Niccolò Machiavelli O. Henry Oscar Wilde Paul Craig Roberts Per Bylund Peter Brimelow Plato Plutarch Ralph Franklin Keeling Richard Francis Burton Richard Lovell Edgeworth Richard Lynn Robert Barr Robert S. Griffin Robin Koerner Rose Wilder Lane Rudyard Kipling S. Baring-Gould Saint Augustine Samuel Butler Sigmund Freud Sinclair Lewis Stanley Weinbaum Stefan Zweig Stendhal Stephen Crane Stephen J. Sniegoski Suetonius Tacitus Theodore Canot Theodore Roosevelt Thomas Babington Macaulay Thomas Bulfinch Thomas C. Taylor Thomas Carlyle Thomas Dixon Thomas Jefferson Thomas More Thomas Nelson Page Thomas Paine Thomas Seltzer Thorstein Veblen Thucydides Ulysses S. Grant Van Wyck Brooks Victor Hugo Virginia Woolf W.E.B. Du Bois Walter Lippmann Walter Scott Washington Gladden Wilfred Wilson Willa Cather Willard Huntington Wright William Graham Sumner William H. Prescott William Henry Chamberlin Wilmot Robertson Winston Churchill Winston S. Churchill Woodrow Wilson
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    The Senator Michele Pignaver, being a childless widower of several years' standing and a personage of wealth and worth in Venice, made up his mind one day that he would marry his niece Ortensia, as soon as her education was completed. For he was a man of culture and of refined tastes, fond of music,... Read More
    The houses were dark in the August night and the perspective of Beacon Street, with its double chain of lamps, was a foreshortened desert. The club on the hill alone, from its semi-cylindrical front, projected a glow upon the dusky vagueness of the Common, and as I passed it I heard in the hot stillness... Read More
    A Modern Love Story
    One Wednesday afternoon in late September, Ann Veronica Stanley came down from London in a state of solemn excitement and quite resolved to have things out with her father that very evening. She had trembled on the verge of such a resolution before, but this time quite definitely she made it. A crisis had been... Read More
    Well, my dears, here is what you have asked for: another "Oz Book" about Dorothy's strange adventures. Toto is in this story, because you wanted him to be there, and many other characters which you will recognize are in the story, too. Indeed, the wishes of my little correspondents have been considered as carefully as... Read More
    Translated by Leonard A. Lyall
    Confucius was born in the year 550 b.c.,[1] in the land of Lu, in a small village, situated in the western part of the modern province of Shantung. His name was K'ung Ch'iu, and his style (corresponding to our Christian name) was Chung-ni. His countrymen speak of him as K'ung Fu-tzu, the Master, or philosopher... Read More
    or, Victoria, the Mother of the Camps - A Tale of the Frankish Invasion of Gaul
    The first four stories of Eugene Sue's series of historic novels—The Mysteries of the People; or, History of a Proletarian Family Across the Ages—are properly introductory to the wondrous drama in which, as indicated in the preface to the first story of the series, "one family, the descendants of a Gallic chief named Joel, typifies... Read More
    Much of the material in the following pages has appeared in current publications. It is here presented in book form in the hope that it may prove of value to those groups of people who in many cities are making a gallant effort to minimize the dangers which surround young people and to provide them... Read More
    "A stifling hot day!" General Hobson lifted his hat and mopped his forehead indignantly. "What on earth this place can be like in June I can't conceive! The tenth of April, and I'll be bound the thermometer's somewhere near eighty in the shade. You never find the English climate playing you these tricks." Roger Barnes... Read More
    The flying ship of Professor Lucifer sang through the skies like a silver arrow; the bleak white steel of it, gleaming in the bleak blue emptiness of the evening. That it was far above the earth was no expression for it; to the two men in it, it seemed to be far above the stars.... Read More
    In Evelyn Waugh's book Decline and Fall his hero, applying for a post as a schoolmaster, is told by the agent, "We class schools in four grades—leading school, first-rate school, good school, and school." Sedleigh in Mike and Psmith would, I suppose, come into the last-named class, though not quite as low in it as... Read More
    A Tale of the Great Invasion
    It may be thought by some that in the pages which follow I have painted in too lurid colours the horrors of a foreign invasion of England. Realism in art, it may be argued, can be carried too far. I prefer to think that the majority of my readers will acquit me of a desire... Read More
    A Book of Supermen
    TO DR. GEORG BRANDES "Leb' Ich, wenn andere leben?"—Goethe The studies gathered here first appeared in Scribner's Magazine, the Atlantic Monthly, the North American Review, the New York Times, and the New York Sun. The fanciful notion that psychical delicacy is accompanied by a corresponding physical exterior should have received a death-blow in the presence... Read More
    Who that has ever seen them can forget the ruins of Blossholme Abbey, set upon their mount between the great waters of the tidal estuary to the north, the rich lands and grazing marshes that, backed with woods, border it east and south, and to the west by the rolling uplands, merging at last into... Read More
    There are many of us in England who consider the crime which has been wrought in the Congo lands by King Leopold of Belgium and his followers to be the greatest which has ever been known in human annals. Personally I am strongly of that opinion. There have been great expropriations like that of the... Read More
    Most people either say that they agree with Bernard Shaw or that they do not understand him. I am the only person who understands him, and I do not agree with him. G. K. C. A peculiar difficulty arrests the writer of this rough study at the very start. Many people know Mr. Bernard Shaw... Read More
    I go to seek on many roads What is to be. True heart and strong, with love to light— Will they not bear me in the fight To order, shun or wield or mould My Destiny? Unpublished Poems of David Mignot. The song was over. The words were David's; the air, one of the countryside.... Read More
    When The Rose of Dixie magazine was started by a stock company in Toombs City, Georgia, there was never but one candidate for its chief editorial position in the minds of its owners. Col. Aquila Telfair was the man for the place. By all the rights of learning, family, reputation, and Southern traditions, he was... Read More
    TO MY DEAR UNCLE AND AUNT COUNT AND COUNTESS WASS OF CZEGE IN REMEMBRANCE OF MANY HAPPY DAYS SPENT IN TRANSYLVANIA October, 1908 The man in the corner pushed aside his glass, and leant across the table. "Mysteries!" he commented. "There is no such thing as a mystery in connection with any crime, provided intelligence... Read More
    A Romance of the XVIIth Century
    Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy folded his hands before him ere he spoke: "Nay! but I tell thee, woman, that the Lord hath no love for such frivolities! and alack! but 'tis a sign of the times that an English Squire should favor such evil ways." "Evil ways? The Lord love you, Master Hymn-of-Praise, and pray do... Read More
    An Historical Romance
    With hasty strides George William, the Elector, paced to and fro the length of his cabinet. His features wore a dark, agitated expression, his blue eyes flashed with indignation and wrath; his hands were folded behind his back, as if he would shut out from sight the paper they held with so firm a grasp,... Read More
    Why should the proud stomach of American travel, much tossed in the transatlantic voyage, so instantly have itself carried from Liverpool to any point where trains will convey it? Liverpool is most worthy to be seen and known, and no one who looks up from the bacon and eggs of his first hotel breakfast after... Read More
    The Princess opened her eyes at the sound of her maid's approach. She turned her head impatiently toward the door. "Annette," she said coldly, "did you misunderstand me? Did I not say that I was on no account to be disturbed this afternoon?" Annette was the picture of despair. Eyebrows and hands betrayed alike both... Read More
    There are two conspicuous faults in the literary culture which we are trying to give to our boys and girls in our elementary and secondary schools: it is not sufficiently contemporaneous, and it is not sufficiently national and American. Hence it lacks vitality and actuality. So little of it is carried over into life because... Read More
    A Story of Social Adventure in California
    DEDICATED TO THE DEAREST LITTLE GIRL IN THE WORLD, MY DAUGHTER LOUISE Scene: California. Time: 1898-1901 "Fools and fanatics!" Colonel Worth crumpled the morning paper with a gesture of rage and walked to the window. Elena followed softly and laid her hand on his arm. "What is it, Guardie? I thought you were supremely happy... Read More
    The chapters of which this volume is composed have with few exceptions already been collected, and were then associated with others commemorative of other impressions of (no very extensive) excursions and wanderings. The notes on various visits to Italy are here for the first time exclusively placed together, and as they largely refer to quite... Read More
    "GOD the Known and God the Unknown" first appeared in the form of a series of articles which were published in "The Examiner" in May, June, and July, 1879. Samuel Butler subsequently revised the text of his work, presumably with the intention of republishing it, though he never carried the intention into effect. In the... Read More
    Most people in this world seem to live “in character”; they have a beginning, a middle and an end, and the three are congruous one with another and true to the rules of their type. You can speak of them as being of this sort of people or that. They are, as theatrical people say,... Read More
    These are the principal speeches I have made within the last four years. They have been chosen and collected with the idea of presenting a consistent and simultaneous view of the general field of British politics in an hour of fateful decision. I have exercised full freedom in compression and in verbal correction necessary to... Read More
    'I cannot help it,' said Filmore Durand quietly. 'I paint what I see. If you are not pleased with the likeness, I shall be only too happy to keep it.' The Marchesa protested. It was only a very small matter, she said, a something in the eyes, or in the angle of the left eyebrow,... Read More
    It was a morning in the middle of April, and the Jackson family were consequently breakfasting in comparative silence. The cricket season had not begun, and except during the cricket season they were in the habit of devoting their powerful minds at breakfast almost exclusively to the task of victualling against the labours of the... Read More
    For some months after our marriage, Euphemia and I boarded. But we did not like it. Indeed, there was no reason why we should like it. Euphemia said that she never felt at home except when she was out, which feeling, indicating such an excessively unphilosophic state of mind, was enough to make me desire... Read More
    Flowers spring to blossom where she walks The careful ways of duty, Our hard, stiff lines of life with her Are flowing curves of beauty. —WHITTIER A tall, slim girl, “half-past sixteen,” with serious gray eyes and hair which her friends called auburn, had sat down on the broad red sandstone doorstep of a Prince... Read More
    On my right hand there were lines of fishing stakes resembling a mysterious system of half-submerged bamboo fences, incomprehensible in its division of the domain of tropical fishes, and crazy of aspect as if abandoned forever by some nomad tribe of fishermen now gone to the other end of the ocean; for there was no... Read More
    A Fantasy
    Jimbo's governess ought to have known better—but she didn't. If she had, Jimbo would never have met with the adventures that subsequently came to him. Thus, in a roundabout sort of way, the child ought to have been thankful to the governess; and perhaps, in a roundabout sort of way, he was. But that comes... Read More
    These fleeting sketches are all republished by kind permission of the Editor of the DAILY NEWS, in which paper they appeared. They amount to no more than a sort of sporadic diary—a diary recording one day in twenty which happened to stick in the fancy—the only kind of diary the author has ever been able... Read More
    I cannot understand the people who take literature seriously; but I can love them, and I do. Out of my love I warn them to keep clear of this book. It is a collection of crude and shapeless papers upon current or rather flying subjects; and they must be published pretty much as they stand.... Read More
    A Confession of Faith and Rule of Life
    Recently I set myself to put down what I believe. I did this with no idea of making a book, but at the suggestion of a friend and to interest a number of friends with whom I was associated. We were all, we found, extremely uncertain in our outlook upon life, about our religious feelings... Read More
    With deep gratitude to those few, known to me or unknown, who have cared for either of my former books, "The Gods of Pegana," "Time and the Gods." Where the great plain of Tarphet runs up, as the sea in estuaries, among the Cyresian mountains, there stood long since the city of Merimna well-nigh among... Read More
    Thrush Hill, Oct. 5, 18—. It is all settled at last, and in another week I shall have left Thrush Hill. I am a little bit sorry and a great bit glad. I am going to Montreal to spend the winter with Alicia. Alicia—it used to be plain Alice when she lived at Thrush Hill... Read More
    "Return at ten-thirty," the General said to his chauffeur, and then they entered the corridor of the hotel. Montague gazed about him, and found himself trembling just a little with anticipation. It was not the magnificence of the place. The quiet uptown hotel would have seemed magnificent to him, fresh as he was from the... Read More
    To Jack London “I am,” said Reggie Mann, “quite beside myself to meet this Lucy Dupree.” “Who told you about her?” asked Allan Montague. “Ollie’s been telling everybody about her,” said Reggie. “It sounds really wonderful. But I fear he must have exaggerated.” “People seem to develop a tendency to exaggeration,” said Montague, “when they... Read More
    I laid my papers down upon the broad mahogany counter, and exchanged greetings with the tall frock-coated reception clerk who came smiling towards me. "I should like a single room on the third floor east, about the middle corridor," I said. "Can you manage that for me? 317 I had last time." He shook his... Read More
    "Action is transitory--a step, a blow, The motion of a muscle--this way or that-- 'Tis done, and in the after-vacancy We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed: Suffering is permanent, obscure, and dark, And shares the nature of infinity." --THE BORDERERS. The clock in the tower of the village church had just struck the quarter.... Read More
    There was not even a reaction. On! ever on! in that wild, surging torrent; sowing the wind of anarchy, of terrorism, of lust of blood and hate, and reaping a hurricane of destruction and of horror. On! ever on! France, with Paris and all her children still rushes blindly, madly on; defies the powerful coalition,—Austria,... Read More
    Virginia, when she had torn herself away from the bosom of her sorrowing but excited family, and boarded the car which passed only once a day through the tiny village in Massachusetts, where all her life had been spent, had felt herself, notwithstanding her nineteen years, a person of consequence and dignity. Virginia, when four... Read More
    The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an... Read More
    or, The Monastery of Charolles
    Semiramis, Brunhild, Catherine of Medicis constitute a trinity of historic women unique in their greatness. Their ambition was boundless, their intellectual powers matchless, the depths of their immorality unfathomable. As such they were the scourges of their respective ages. Queen Brunhild, a central figure in this superb story, may be said to be the Sixth... Read More
    A Romance
    'The Bishop of Rome——' Thomas Cranmer began a hesitating speech. In the pause after the words the King himself hesitated, as if he poised between a heavy rage and a sardonic humour. He deemed, however, that the humour could the more terrify the Archbishop—and, indeed, he was so much upon the joyous side in those... Read More
    There is a ruby mine hidden in the heart of the mountains near a remote little city of Central Asia, unknown to European travellers; and the secret of the treasure belongs to the two chief families of the place, and has been carefully guarded for many generations, handed down through the men from father to... Read More
    This book is a faithful record, so far as I can make it, of the most marvellous phenomena which have come under my observation during the last sixteen or seventeen years. I have used my notes (made immediately after the sittings) and also my reports to the American Psychical Society (of which I was at... Read More