This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 edition. Excerpt: ... Mr. Ward had a sail-boat, "The Gipsey," and he and his son took the management of it, and two other gentlemen who were also boarding at Mr. Ward's, accompanied them. The day was fine, and a brisk breeze added to the excitement of the sail. Fanny was a little timid at first, but her courage gradually rose, till she enjoyed the trip greatly. She put out her hand to play with the water, and bounded with the motion of the boat, and, before they were back to land, she felt quite like an old sailor. As for Charles, he began to understand the sailor's love for the grand old sea. The ocean is full of charms to a boy. There is to him a wild exulting freedom in riding on its boundless bosom, drinking in its fresh exhilarating air, feeling and braving its power, guiding his tiny boat securely over its waves, moving with its motion, till he seems to become part of it, and communing, as it were, with the great heart of nature. No wonder that boys love it! Never had they tasted such delicious mackerel as Mrs. Ward broiled for their dinner on their returnMrs. Weston said she had just learned the meaning of the recipe of Mrs. Glass, "First catch the hare." So the days passed, only too quickly. The mornings were given to bathing and various excursions, and the afternoons to reading and quiet employments. At the end of a fortnight, there was a great storm. Charles and Fanny sat for hours at the windows, watching the tossing, tumultuous waves, and listening to their roar. "This would be a good day for pressing your sea-weeds, Fanny," said the mother. "So it would! Thank you, mother. Will you show me how?" "Certainly, dear. Bring your book, and muslin and paper, and we will go to work." Fanny obeyed. Charles...
The most striking literary phenomenon of the nineteenth century is, undoubtedly, the rise into power and prominence of Russian authors. Some fifty years ago Russian literature was practically unknown to Western Europe; by the majority of people its very existence seems to have been unsuspected; we find even so great an adventurer as Carlyle, himself guiding his countrymen to many new tracts of literary discovery, speaking of "the great silent Russians who are drilling a whole continent into obedience, but who have produced 'nothing articulate' as yet." In less than thirty years from the time when Carlyle penned that sentence Russian literature had become recognised as one of the most powerful and vital in Europe; its influence, already enormous, increases every day; it is great in France, in Germany, in Scandinavia, even in conservative England; hardly since the Renaissance has Europe beheld such a phenomenon-a literary advance at once so rapid and so great.  Heroes and Hero Worship.
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