The Miscellaneous Writings and Speeches-Volume Iby Lord MacaulayPREFACE.Lord Macaulay always looked forward to a publication of his miscellaneous works, either by himself or by those who should represent him after his death. And latterly he expressly reserved, whenever the arrangements as to copyright made it necessary, the right of such publication.The collection which is now published comprehends some of the earliest and some of the latest works which he composed. He was born on 25th October, 1800; commenced residence at Trinity College, Cambridge, in October, 1818; was elected Craven University Scholar in 1821; graduated as B.A. in 1822; was elected fellow of the college in October, 18　

Hans Brinker or The Silver Skatesby Mary Mapes DodgeTo my father James J. Mapes this book is dedicated in gratitude and lovePrefaceThis little work aims to combine the instructive features of a book of travels with the interest of a domestic tale. Throughout its pages the descriptions of Dutch localities, customs, and general characteristics have been given with scrupulous care. Many of its incidents are drawn from life, and the story of Raff Brinker is founded strictly upon fact.While acknowledging my obligations to many well-known writers on Dutch history, literature, and art, I turn with especial gratitude to those kind Holland friends who, with generous zeal, have taken many a backw　

ON SOPHISTICAL REFUTATIONSby Aristotletranslated by W. A. Pickard-CambridgeBook I1LET us now discuss sophistic refutations, i.e. what appear to berefutations but are really fallacies instead. We will begin in thenatural order with the first.That some reasonings are genuine, while others seem to be so but arenot, is evident. This happens with arguments, as also elsewhere,through a certain likeness between the genuine and the sham. Forphysically some people are in a vigorous condition, while others...　

The Rivermanby Stewart Edward WhiteIThe time was the year 1872, and the place a bend in the river abovea long pond terminating in a dam. Beyond this dam, and on a flatlower than it, stood a two-story mill structure. Save for a small,stump-dotted clearing, and the road that led from it, all else wasforest. Here in the bottom-lands, following the course of thestream, the hardwoods grew dense, their uppermost branches justbeginning to spray out in the first green of spring. Farther back,where the higher lands arose from the swamp, could be discerned thegraceful frond of white pines and hemlock, and the sturdy tops of...　

Options,by O. HenryCONTENTS"The Rose of Dixie"The Third IngredientThe Hiding of Black BillSchools and SchoolsThimble, ThimbleSupply and DemandBuried TreasureTo Him Who WaitsHe Also ServesThe Moment of VictoryThe Head-HunterNo StoryThe Higher PragmatismBest-SellerRus in UrbeA Poor RuleOPTIONS"THE ROSE OF DIXIE"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 its foreordained, fit, and logical editor. So, a committee of the 　

TARTARIN OF TARASCONbyALPHONSE DAUDETEPISODE THE FIRSTIN TARASCONI. The Garden Round the Giant Trees.My first visit to Tartarin of Tarascon has remained a never-to-be- forgotten date in my life; although quite ten or a dozen years ago, I remember it better than yesterday.At that time the intrepid Tartarin lived in the third house on the left as the town begins, on the Avignon road. A pretty little villa in the local style, with a front garden and a balcony behind, the walls glaringly white and the venetians very green; and always about the doorsteps a brood of little Savoyard shoeblackguards playing hopscotch, or dozing in the broad sunshine with their heads pillowed on their boxes....　

Confidence by Henry JamesCHAPTER IIt was in the early days of April; Bernard Longueville had been spending the winter in Rome. He had travelled northward with the consciousness of several social duties that appealed to him from the further side of the Alps, but he was under the charm of the Italian spring, and he made a pretext for lingering. He had spent five days at Siena, where he had intended to spend but two, and still it was impossible to continue his journey. He was a young man of a contemplative and speculative turn, and this was his first visit to Italy, so that if he dallied by the way he should not be harshly judged. He had a fancy for sketching, and it was on his conscience to　

FlatlandFlatlandby Edwin A. Abbott 18841- Page 2-FlatlandPART 1THIS WORLDSECTION 1 Of the Nature of FlatlandI call our world Flatland, not because we call it so, but to make itsnature clearer to you, my happy readers, who are privileged to live inSpace.Imagine a vast sheet of paper on which straight Lines, Triangles,...　

Love of Life and other storiesby Jack LondonLOVE OF LIFE"This out of all will remain -They have lived and have tossed:So much of the game will be gain,Though the gold of the dice has been lost."THEY limped painfully down the bank, and once the foremost of thetwo men staggered among the rough-strewn rocks. They were tiredand weak, and their faces had the drawn expression of patiencewhich comes of hardship long endured. They were heavily burdenedwith blanket packs which were strapped to their shoulders. Head-straps, passing across the forehead, helped support these packs.Each man carried a rifle. They walked in a stooped posture, the...　

The Yellow Crayonby E. Phillips OppenheimCHAPTER IIt was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into thedarkened room through the half-opened window. The sunlight forcedits way through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floorin strange zigzag fashion. From without came the pleasant murmurof bees and many lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flowerbeds, resting for a while on the clematis which had made the piazzaa blaze of purple splendour. And inside, in a high-backed chair,there sat a man, his arms folded, his eyes fixed steadily uponvacancy. As he sat then, so had he sat for a whole day and a wholenight. The faint sweet chorus of glad living things, whi　

American Literary Centersby William Dean HowellsOne of the facts which we Americans have a difficulty in making clear toa rather inattentive world outside is that, while we have apparently aliterature of our own, we have no literary centre. We have so muchliterature that from time to time it seems even to us we must have aliterary centre. We say to ourselves, with a good deal of logic, Wherethere is so much smoke there must be some fire, or at least a fireplace.But it is just here that, misled by tradition, and even by history, wedeceive ourselves. Really, we have no fireplace for such fire as we havekindled; or, if any one is disposed to deny this, then I say, we have a...　

IS SHAKESPEARE DEAD?(from My Autobiography)Scattered here and there through the stacks of unpublished manuscript which constitute this formidable Autobiography and Diary of mine, certain chapters will in some distant future be found which deal with "Claimants"claimants historically notorious: Satan, Claimant; the Golden Calf, Claimant; the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, Claimant; Louis XVII., Claimant; William Shakespeare, Claimant; Arthur Orton, Claimant; Mary Baker G. Eddy, Claimantand the rest of them. Eminent Claimants, successful Claimants, defeated Claimants, royal Claimants, pleb Claimants, showy Claimants, shabby Claimants, revered Claimants, despised Claimants, twinkle star-like he