CHARACTER WRITINGS OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. Character writing, as a distinct form of Literature, had its origin more than two thousand years ago in the [Greek: aethichoi Chadaaedes]---Ethic Characters--of Tyrtamus of Lesbos, a disciple of Plato, who gave him for his eloquence the name of Divine Speaker--Theophrastus. Aristotle left him his library and all his MSS., and named him his successor in the schools of the Lyceum. Nicomachus,... more...

I. LINKS WITH THE PAST. Of the celebrated Mrs. Disraeli her husband is reported to have said, "She is an excellent creature, but she never can remember which came first, the Greeks or the Romans." In my walk through life I have constantly found myself among excellent creatures of this sort. The world is full of vague people, and in the average man, and still more in the average woman, the chronological sense seems to be entirely wanting. Thus,... more...

Chapter One The girl stood on a bank above a river flowing north. At her back crouched a dozen clean whitewashed buildings. Before her in interminable journey, day after day, league on league into remoteness, stretched the stern Northern wilderness, untrodden save by the trappers, the Indians, and the beasts. Close about the little settlement crept the balsams and spruce, the birch and poplar, behind which lurked vast dreary muskegs, a chaos of... more...

COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLES The principles established by the Rochdale Pioneers in England in 1844 and observed consistently by successful societies since that time are as follows: 1. Earnings of capital stock limited to legal or current rate of interest. 2. Surplus earnings to be returned to members in proportion to patronage. 3. One vote for each member regardless of amount of stock owned. No proxy voting permitted. In addition, the majority... more...

Arthur Duryea, a young, handsome man, came to meet his father for the first time in twenty years. As he strode into the hotel lobby—long strides which had the spring of elastic in them—idle eyes lifted to appraise him, for he was an impressive figure, somehow grim with exaltation. The desk clerk looked up with his habitual smile of expectation; how-do-you-do-Mr.-so-and-so, and his fingers strayed to the green fountain pen which stood... more...

o Edge Hill from Banbury a good road trends gradually up hill nearly the whole way. It rises from the 300 foot level of the Cherwell Vale to 720 at the highest ground of the ridge of the hill. At a distance of eight miles to the North-West is the edge or escarpment of high ground bounded on the East side by the vale of a tributary of the Cherwell, and on the North and West by the plain drained by the tributaries of the Avon. From Warmington, six... more...

CHAPTER I.   THE BELIEF IN GOD ALMIGHTY. A study of ancient Egyptian religious texts will convince the reader that the Egyptians believed in One God, who was self-existent, immortal, invisible, eternal, omniscient, almighty, and inscrutable; the maker of the heavens, earth, and underworld; the creator of the sky and the sea, men and women, animals and birds, fish and creeping things, trees and plants, and the incorporeal beings who were... more...

CHAPTER I Mrs. Bennet, her travelling companion from San Francisco, having proved to be talkative and uninteresting, Elsie Marley was more than content to find herself alone after the change had been made and her train pulled out of Chicago. It was characteristic of the girl that she did not even look out of the window to see the last of Mrs. Bennet, who, having waited on the platform until the train started and waved her handkerchief in vain,... more...

Apple Orchard White as popcorn, was the treeAnd underneath it on the leaA little goat looked up at me. Bright and wicked was his glanceIn that orchard's sweet expanseIn a mocking sort of danceMoved his hooves. He was Pan, and he was SpringWith a sudden saucy springOff he flew . . .Just a shadow in the air . . .Was he really ever there? For all Ear-Pinners There are some peopleWho delightIn pinning people's earsBack tight.I'd love to be on... more...

CHAPTER I A MESSAGE FROM THE WOODFOLK Nimble-toes Field-mouse trotted briskly along the dark subway and up the steep attic stairway in Mr. Giant's house. He had travelled a long way from his woodland home and it was getting late. The door of the cosy attic where Cousin Graymouse lived was ajar. Nimble-toes paused to get his breath and peep in at the busy, happy family. Mother Graymouse sat in her rocking-chair singing to little Squealer. Tiny,... more...