| | 27 | Author: | Beerbohm, Max, Sir, 1872-1956 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Enoch Soames: A Memory of the Eighteen-nineties  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | WHEN a book about the literature of the eighteen-nineties was given by
Mr. Holbrook Jackson to the world, I looked eagerly in the index for
Soames, Enoch. It was as I feared: he was not there. But everybody else
was. Many writers whom I had quite forgotten, or remembered but
faintly, lived again for me, they and their work, in Mr. Holbrook
Jackson's pages. The book was as thorough as it was brilliantly written.
And thus the omission found by me was an all the deadlier record of poor
Soames's failure to impress himself on his decade. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 32 | Author: | Brawley, Benjamin | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Negro Genius | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In his lecture on "The Poetic Principle," in leading down to his definition of
poetry, Edgar Allan Poe has called attention to the three faculties, intellect,
feeling, and will, and shown that poetry, that the whole realm of aesthetics in
fact, is concerned primarily and solely with the second of these. Does it
appeal to a sense of beauty? This is his sole test of a poem or of any work of
art, the aim being neither to appeal to the intellect by satisfying the reason or
inculcating truth, nor to appeal to the will by satisfying the moral sense or
inculcating duty. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 36 | Author: | Burnett, Frances Hodgson | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Shuttle | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | NO man knew when the Shuttle began its slow and
heavy weaving from shore to shore, that it was held
and guided by the great hand of Fate. Fate alone
saw the meaning of the web it wove, the might of it, and
its place in the making of a world's history. Men thought
but little of either web or weaving, calling them by other
names and lighter ones, for the time unconscious of the strength
of the thread thrown across thousands of miles of leaping,
heaving, grey or blue ocean. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 37 | Author: | Calamity Jane (pseud. Marthy Cannary Burk) | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Life and Adventures of Calamity Jane | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | My maiden name was Marthy Cannary. I was born in
Princeton, Missourri, May 1st, 1852. Father and mother were
natives of Ohio. I had two brothers and three sisters, I being the
oldest of the children. As a child I always had a fondness for
adventure and out-door exercise and especial fondness for
horses which I began to ride at an early age and continued to do
so until I became an expert rider being able to ride the most
vicious and stubborn of horses, in fact the greater portion of my
life in early times was spent in this manner. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 39 | Author: | Casson, Herbert N. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The History of the Telephone | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IN that somewhat distant year 1875, when the
telegraph and the Atlantic cable were the
most wonderful things in the world, a tall young
professor of elocution was desperately busy in a
noisy machine-shop that stood in one of the narrow
streets of Boston, not far from Scollay
Square. It was a very hot afternoon in June,
but the young professor had forgotten the heat
and the grime of the workshop. He was wholly
absorbed in the making of a nondescript machine,
a sort of crude harmonica with a clock-spring
reed, a magnet, and a wire. It was a most
absurd toy in appearance. It was unlike any
other thing that had ever been made in any country.
The young professor had been toiling over
it for three years and it had constantly baffled
him, until, on this hot afternoon in June, 1875,
he heard an almost inaudible sound — a faint
twang — come from the
machine itself. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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