Manual Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1)

Free download. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can download and read online Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1) file PDF Book only if you are registered here. And also you can download or read online all Book PDF file that related with Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1) book. Happy reading Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1) Bookeveryone. Download file Free Book PDF Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1) at Complete PDF Library. This Book have some digital formats such us :paperbook, ebook, kindle, epub, fb2 and another formats. Here is The CompletePDF Book Library. It's free to register here to get Book file PDF Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1) Pocket Guide.
Condemned for Daring to Speculate on the Will of God (Missives of Mine Book 1) eBook: James Ward, Carl Gill: leondumoulin.nl: Kindle Store.
Table of contents

To-night at the theatre I see her again;--in an opposite box, well back in shadow, I perceive Lord Melthorpe. Young Vaughan, whose character I know to be of such weakness that it can be moulded whichever way a stronger will turns it, sits close behind me; and I proceed to make the little sum-total. Given Lord Melthorpe, with a determination that resembles the obstinacy of a pig rather than of a man; Frederick Vaughan, with no determination at all; and the little Chester girl, with her heart set on an English title, even though it only be that of a baronet, and the marriage is certain.

What was un certain was the possibility of their all meeting to-night; but they were all there, and I counted that possibility as the fraction over,--there is always a fraction over in character-sums; it stands as Providence or Fate, and must always be allowed for. I chanced it,--and won. I always do win in these things,--these ridiculous trifles of calculation, which are actually accepted as prophetic utterances by people who never will think out anything for themselves. Good heavens! And for what purpose?

BOARD OF EDITORS

For what progress? For what end? He stopped a moment; he had walked from the Strand up through Piccadilly, and was now close to Hyde Park. Taking out his watch, he glanced at the time--it was close upon midnight. All at once he was struck fiercely from behind, and the watch he held was snatched from his hand by a man who had no sooner committed the theft than he uttered a loud cry, and remained inert and motionless.

The fellow stared about him vaguely, but seemed unable to answer,--his arm was stiffly outstretched, and the watch was clutched fast within his palm. The thief's arm at the same moment fell limply at his side; but he remained where he was, trembling violently as though seized with a sudden ague-fit.

Stolen goods are always more or less of a bore, I believe. You seem rather discomposed? You've heard of torpedos, I dare say? Well, in this scientific age of ours, there are human torpedos going about; and I am one of them. It is necessary to be careful whom you touch nowadays,--it really is, you know!

You will be better presently--take time! He spoke banteringly, observing the thief meanwhile with the most curious air, as though he were some peculiar specimen of beetle or frog. The wretched man's features worked convulsively, and he made a gesture of appeal:. Do not tell lies, my friend; that is a great mistake--as great a mistake as thieving. Both things, as you practise them, will put you to no end of trouble,--and to avoid trouble is the chief aim of modern life. You are not starving--you are as plump as a rabbit,"--and, with a dexterous touch, he threw up the man's loose shirt-sleeve, and displayed the full, firm flesh of the strong and sinewy arm beneath.

See a Problem?

You are a professional thief,--a sort of--lawyer, shall we say? Only, instead of protesting the right you have to live, politely by means of documents and red-tape, you assert it roughly by stealing a watch. It's very frank conduct,--but it is not civil; and, in the present state of ethics, it doesn't pay--it really doesn't.

I'm afraid I'm boring you! You feel better? I had no business to pull it out; I grant it; but, being pulled out, you had no business to want it. We were both wrong; let us both endeavour to be wiser in future. But the "rummest card" heard none of these observations. He crossed the road, and went on his way serenely, taking up the thread of his interrupted musings as though nothing had occurred. Destruction or new life? Heaven or hell? Wisdom or caprice? Kindness or cruelty? God or the Devil? If I knew that I should be wise,--but till I know, I am but a fool also,--a fool among fools, fooled by a Fate whose secret I mean to discover and conquer--and defy!

He paused,--and, drawing a long, deep breath, raised his eyes to the stars once more.

Luke 11 Biblical Illustrator

His lips moved as though he repeated inwardly some vow or prayer, then he proceeded at a quicker pace, and stopped no more till he reached his destination, which was a small, quiet and unfashionable square off Sloane Street. Here he made his way to an unpretentious-looking little house, semi-detached, and one of a row of similar buildings; the only particularly distinctive mark about it being a heavy and massively-carved ancient oaken door, which opened easily at the turn of his latch-key, and closed after him without the slightest sound as he entered.

A DIM red light burned in the narrow hall, just sufficient to enable him to see the wooden peg on which he was accustomed to hang his hat and overcoat,--and as soon as he had divested himself of his outdoor garb, he extinguished even that faint glimmer of radiance. Opening a side-door, he entered his own room--a picturesque apartment running from east to west, the full length of the house. From its appearance it had evidently once served as drawing-room and dining-room, with folding-doors between; but the folding-doors had been dispensed with, and the place they had occupied was now draped with heavy amber silk.

There was not much of either beauty or value in the room,--yet without being at all luxurious, it suggested luxury. The few chairs were of the most ordinary make, all save one, which was of finely carved ebony, and was piled with silk cushions of amber and red,--the table was of plain painted deal, covered with a dark woollen cloth worked in and out with threads of gold,--there were a few geometrical instruments about,--a large pair of globes,--a rack on the wall stocked with weapons for the art of fence,--and one large book-case full of books.

An ebony-cased pianette occupied one corner,--and on a small side-table stood a heavily-made oaken chest, brass-bound and double-locked. The furniture was completed by a plain camp-bedstead such as soldiers use, which at the present moment was partly folded up and almost hidden from view by a rough bearskin thrown carelessly across it. They were from all sorts of persons,--princes, statesmen, diplomats, financiers, and artists in all the professions,--he recognised the handwriting on some of the envelopes, and his brows contracted in a frown as he tossed them aside still unopened.

Who would believe that I, poor in worldly goods, and living in more or less obscurity, should, without any wish of my own, be in touch with kings? I do not ask these people to confide in me,--I do not want them to seek me out,--and yet the cry is, 'still they come!


  • Comments (687).
  • The Soul of Lilith (3 Volumes).
  • Trump and ‘Morning Joe’ trade insults on Twitter.
  • porter-stemmer 0.1.0.
  • Missives from Another World: Literature of Parallel Universes - The Millions;
  • Online Library of Liberty.
  • Letters 125-150?

Yet perhaps it is well it should be thus,--I need the external distraction,--otherwise my mind would be too much like a bent bow,--fixed on the one centre,--the Great Secret,--and its powers might fail me at the last. But no! Steeled against love,--hate,--and all the merely earthly passions of mankind as I am,--I must succeed--and I will!

He leaned his head on one hand, and seemed to suddenly concentrate his thoughts on one particular subject,--his eyes dilated and grew luridly brilliant as though sparks of fire burnt behind them. He had not sat thus for more than a couple of minutes, when the door opened gently, and a beautiful youth clad in a loose white tunic and vest of Eastern fashion, made his appearance, and standing silently on the threshold seemed to wait for some command. And sighing lightly, he folded his arms cross-wise on his breast and stood erect and immovable, looking like some fine statue just endowed by magic with the flush of life.

It rang sharply out on the silence. How late you are! I waited for you long--and then I slept. I am sorry! But you called me in the usual way, I suppose? Ah no! I should come to you if I were dead!

The Walt Whitman Archive

Such poetry must needs be spoilt by men's mouthing of it,--it is better to read it, to think it, to feel it,--and so one actually sees it,--best. Have you any supper ready for me? They have left their cards. Some of them asked me my name and who I was. I said I was your servant--but they would not believe me.