Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:25:48

Excerpt #1, from Ten Thousand Dreams Interpreted; Or, What’s in a Dream, by Gustavus Hindman Miller

…she will be able to defend her character in attacks made on her. Addition. To dream of pondering over addition, denotes that you will have a struggle to overcome difficult situations, which will soon prominently assume formidable shapes in your business transactions. To find some error in addition, shows that you will be able to overcome enemies by fortunately discerning their intention before they have executed their design. To add figures with a machine, foretells that you will have a powerful ally who will save you from much oppression. If you fail to read the figures, you will lose fortune by blind speculation. Adieu. To dream of bidding cheerful adieus to people, denotes that you will make pleasant visits and enjoy much social festivity; but if they are made in a sad or doleful strain, you will endure loss and bereaving sorrow. If you bid adieu to home and country, you will travel in the nature of an exile from fortune and love. To throw kisses of adieu to loved ones, or children, foretells that you will soon have a journey to make, but there will be no unpleasant accidents or happenings attending your trip….

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Excerpt #2, from Japan: From the Japanese Government History, by Kan’ichi Asakawa

…hundred thousand. Nevertheless, the government was careful to avoid a return to the excesses of former days. The building of new temples was forbidden, the lands assigned for the support of those already in existence were rigidly defined, and the people were encouraged to study Chinese literature, so that the corruption which disfigured the Buddhist priesthood in earlier ages was, in great part, corrected. Even more important than the revival of Buddhist influence was the bearing of the Catholic extermination upon the almost total exclusion of foreign trade from the shores of Japan. The entry of all foreign ships, except those of China and Holland, into Japanese ports was peremptorily forbidden. Neither the Chinese nor the Dutch entertained any idea of religious propagandism, their sole purpose being commercial. The Dutch, indeed, having shown a disposition to assist Japan in every way, enjoyed great credit with the Edo government, as will be more fully set forth in the next chapter. At first no restrictions were imposed on the commercial transactions of the Chinese and the Dutch, but subsequently a limit was set to the amount of trade and to the number of ships engaged, and the prices at which imported articles must be offered for sale were also determined officially. These restrictions were suggested by the fact that the trade involved a heavy drain of the precious metals. Indeed, the quantity of gold and silver exported from Japan during the…

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Excerpt #3, from Not that it Matters, by A. A. Milne

…February fill-dyke! Well, that’s all that can be said for it. The Unfairness of Things The most interesting column in any paper (always excepting those which I write myself) is that entitled “The World’s Press,” wherein one may observe the world as it appears to a press of which one has for the most part never heard. It is in this column that I have just made the acquaintance of The Shoe Manufacturers’ Monthly, the journal to which the elect turn eagerly upon each new moon. (Its one-time rival, The Footwear Fortnightly, has, I am told, quite lost its following.) The bon mot of the current number of The S.M.M. is a note to the effect that Kaffirs have a special fondness for boots which make a noise. I quote this simply as an excuse for referring to the old problem of the squeaky boots and the squeaky collar; the problem, in fact, of the unfairness of things. The majors and clubmen who assist their country with columns of advice on clothes have often tried to explain why a collar squeaks, but have never done so to the satisfaction of any man of intelligence. They say that the collar is too large or too small, too dirty or too clean. They say that if you have your collars made for you (like a gentleman) you will be all right, but that…

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Excerpt #4, from The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran

…in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance. For what is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether? And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart. And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing. When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet. Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion. For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking you shall…

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Excerpt #5, from Latin Phrase Book, by Carl Meissner

…a vero non abhorrere—to be probable. veri simile esse—to be probable. haec speciosiora quam veriora sunt—this is more plausible than true. vera et falsa (a falsis) diiudicare—to distinguish true and false. vera cum falsis confundere—to confuse true with false. veritas—veracity. re (vera), reapse (opp. specie)—in truth; really. in errore versari—to be mistaken. magno errore teneri—to be in gross error, seriously misled. in magno errore versari—to be in gross error, seriously misled. vehementer errare—to be in gross error, seriously misled. erroribus implicari (Tusc. 4. 27. 58)—to fall into error. per errorem labi, or simply labi—to take a false step. aliquem in errorem inducere, rapere—to lead a person into error. errorem animo imbibere—to get a mistaken notion into the mind. errorem cum lacte nutricis sugere (Tusc. 3. 1. 2)—to imbibe error from one’s mother’s breasts. error longe lateque diffusus—a wide-spread error. errorem tollere—to banish an error, do away with a false impression. errorem amputare et circumcīdere—to banish an error, do away with a false impression….

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Excerpt #6, from The Secret Service, the Field, the Dungeon, and the Escape, by Albert D. Richardson

…[7] This gentleman went to Charleston openly for The Times, and constantly insisted that a candid and truthful correspondent of any northern paper could travel through the South without serious difficulty. He was daily declaring that the devil was not so black as he is painted, denying charges brought against Charlestonians by the northern press, and sometimes evidently straining a point in his own convictions to say a kind word for them. But, during the storming of Sumter, he was suddenly arrested, robbed, and imprisoned in a filthy cell for several days. He was at last permitted to go; but the mob had become excited against him, and with difficulty he escaped with his life. No other correspondent was subjected to such gross indignities. “Jasper” reached Washington, having obtained a good deal of new and valuable information about South Carolina character. CHAPTER VIII. I reckon this always, that a man is never undone until he be hanged.–TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. I now began to entertain sentiments of profound gratitude toward the young officer, at Mobile, who kept me from going to Fort Pickens. Rejecting the tempting request of my Philadelphia companion to remain one day in Montgomery, that he might introduce me to Jefferson Davis, I continued my “Journey Due North.”…

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Excerpt #7, from The Third Officer: A Present

…another breaker crashed, whirling the three human beings like leaves in an autumn gale. Down went Burgoyne, retaining his grip with the energy of despair, and when next he came to the surface he was aware of two hands grasping his shoulder. Minalto had vanished, while Hilda, only just conscious, was instinctively clinging to her now sole support. After that things became a bit hazy. Alwyn found himself swimming mechanically with one arm, while the other held up his charge. He was dimly aware that the sea was no longer breaking but was a succession of heavy, crestless rollers, the tops feathered with spray flung upward by the howling wind. “We’re over the reef!” he exclaimed to himself. “But what’s beyond?” That was the question. If there were land he knew that he would have to contend with the dreaded undertow, and already well-nigh exhausted the prospect was not inviting. But if there were no land–? He shuddered to think of that possibility, when, drifting farther and farther from the lee of the reef into a boundless waste of tempestuous water, nothing but a slow death by drowning confronted all the crew of the luckless life-boat. He wondered, too, what fate had befallen Mostyn and Jasper. The latter had gone, no doubt dashed against the reef that had let Alwyn and Hilda down so lightly. And…

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Excerpt #8, from Champions of the Fleet, by Edward Fraser

…and preparations for large encampments next summer in the vicinity of the French Channel ports—at Dunkirk and Calais, Havre and St. Malo, and in Lower Brittany on the shores of Quiberon Bay. In every county of England and Wales the local authorities were getting ready for the early muster of the new militia levies—now, for the first time in our history, to be formed into regiments. Along the coasts of Sussex and Kent, from Selsea to beyond Dungeness and Hythe, where the open coast-line might seem to invite attack—at Littlehampton, Brighton, Blatchington, Seaford, Hastings, Rye, Hythe, Folkestone—the sites for four- and six-gun batteries were being pegged out by military engineers, to be thrown up by local labourers under expert supervision. At every point along the seashore from Spurn Head to the Lizard the beacons were being watched night and day, while the local authorities of every seaboard district had standing orders to be ready, on the first alarm of a hostile landing, to transport the women and children in farm carts to the nearest towns, and drive inland the horses and sheep and cattle. We have to turn over many pages of the world’s history to get to the year that saw the Victory brought into the British Navy. The Seven Years’ War itself, the exigencies of which called the Victory into existence, is nowadays but a schoolbook term. Frederick the Great, in the year that the Victory first figures in the Navy Estimates, was the man of the…

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Excerpt #9, from Gallipoli Diary, Volume 1, by Ian Hamilton

…evening sun. The enemy let us slip off without shot fired. The last boat-load got aboard the Goliath at 4 p.m., but they had forgotten some of their kit, so the Bluejackets rowed ashore as they might to Southsea pier and brought it off for them–and again no shot fired! Hove to off Cape Helles at quarter past five. Joyous confirmation of Sedd-el-Bahr capture and our lines run straight across from “X” to Morto Bay, but a very sad postscript now to that message: Doughty Wylie has been killed leading the sally from the beach. The death of a hero strips victory of her wings. Alas, for Doughty Wylie! Alas, for that faithful disciple of Charles Gordon; protector of the poor and of the helpless; noblest of those knights ever ready to lay down their lives to uphold the fair fame of England. Braver soldier never drew sword. He had no hatred of the enemy. His spirit did not need that ugly stimulant. Tenderness and pity filled his heart and yet he had the overflowing enthusiasm and contempt of death which alone can give troops the volition to attack when they have been crouching so long under a pitiless fire. Doughty Wylie was no flash-in-the-pan V.C. winner. He was a steadfast hero. Years ago, at Aleppo, the mingled chivalry and daring with which he placed his own body as a shield between the Turkish soldiery and their victims during a time of massacre made him admired even by the Moslems. Now; as he would have wished to…

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Excerpt #10, from Helps to Latin Translation at Sight, by Edmund Luce

…Atque inter geminas pingantur cornua frontes: Sic etenim comptum mittere oportet opus. TIBULLUS, III. i. 9-14. C. Qui tecum cupis esse meos ubicumque libellos Et comites longae quaeris habere viae, Hos eme, quos artat brevibus membrana tabellis: Scrinia da magnis, me manus una capit. 4 Ne tamen ignores ubi sim venalis et erres Urbe vagus tota, me duce certus eris: Libertum docti Lucensis quaere Secundum Limina post Pacis Palladiumque forum. 8 MARTIAL, I. ii. Cf. HOR. Epist. I. xx.; CATULL. xxii, 4-8; STATIUS, Silvae, IV. ix. ARETHUSA. ‘As an eagle pursuing A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind.’–SHELLEY. A. Lassa revertebar (memini) Stymphalide silva; 585…

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Excerpt #11, from Modern Essays, by Harry Morgan Ayres et al.

…I wish we could encourage on this continent among our best students the habit of wandering. I do not know that we are quite prepared for it, as there is still great diversity in the curricula, even among the leading schools, but it is undoubtedly a great advantage to study under different teachers, as the mental horizon is widened and the sympathies enlarged. The practice would do much to lessen that narrow “I am of Paul and I am of Apollos” spirit which is hostile to the best interests of the profession. There is much that I would like to say on the question of work, but I can spare only a few moments for a word or two. Who will venture to settle upon so simple a matter as the best time for work? One will tell us there is no best time; all are equally good; and truly, all times are the same to a man whose soul is absorbed in some great problem. The other day I asked Edward Martin, the well-known story-writer, what time he found best for work. “Not in the evening, and never between meals!” was his answer, which may appeal to some of my hearers. One works best at night; another, in the morning; a majority of the students of the past favor the latter. Erasmus, the great exemplar, says, “Never work at night; it dulls the brain and hurts the health.” One day, going with George Ross through Bedlam, Dr. Savage, at that time the physician in charge, remarked upon two great groups of patients–those who were…

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Excerpt #12, from Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), by Jerome K. Jerome

…I could not help an occasional flicker of water from going over those dresses. The girls did not complain, but they huddled up close together, and set their lips firm, and every time a drop touched them, they visibly shrank and shuddered. It was a noble sight to see them suffering thus in silence, but it unnerved me altogether. I am too sensitive. I got wild and fitful in my rowing, and splashed more and more, the harder I tried not to. I gave it up at last; I said I’d row bow. Bow thought the arrangement would be better too, and we changed places. The ladies gave an involuntary sigh of relief when they saw me go, and quite brightened up for a moment. Poor girls! they had better have put up with me. The man they had got now was a jolly, light-hearted, thick-headed sort of a chap, with about as much sensitiveness in him as there might be in a Newfoundland puppy. You might look daggers at him for an hour and he would not notice it, and it would not trouble him if he did. He set a good, rollicking, dashing stroke that sent the spray playing all over the boat like a fountain, and made the whole crowd sit up straight in no time. When he spread more than pint of water over one of those dresses, he would give a pleasant little laugh, and say: “I beg your pardon, I’m sure;” and offer them his handkerchief to wipe…

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