In 'Select Books Published by Mr. T. Fisher Unwin', readers are treated to a curated selection of literary works that showcase Unwin's keen eye for quality writing and interesting subject matter. The collection includes a variety of genres such as fiction, non-fiction, and poetry, making it a diverse and engaging read. Unwin's literary style is characterized by its attention to detail and depth of insight, providing readers with a rich and thought-provoking reading experience. The books in this collection are not only entertaining but also offer valuable insights into the social and cultural context of the time in which they were written. T. Fisher Unwin's own background as a prominent publisher and literary figure likely influenced his selection of books for this collection. His knowledge of the literary landscape and his passion for promoting quality writing shine through in the carefully chosen works included in this volume. Unwin's interest in diverse and thought-provoking literature is evident in the wide range of genres and themes covered in the book. Readers who enjoy discovering new and exciting literary works will find 'Select Books Published by Mr. T. Fisher Unwin' to be a captivating and enriching read. With its diverse selection of genres and engaging writing style, this collection is sure to appeal to those with a love for quality literature.
"Our Journey to the Hebrides" by Elizabeth Robins Pennell, Joseph Pennell. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
Why is it that a little spice of deviltry lends not an unpleasantly titillating twang to the great mass of respectable flour that goes to make up the pudding of our modern civilization? And pertinent to this question another—Why is it that the pirate has, and always has had, a certain lurid glamour of the heroical enveloping him round about? Is there, deep under the accumulated débris of culture, a hidden ground-work of the old-time savage? Is there even in these well-regulated times an unsubdued nature in the respectable mental household of every one of us that still kicks against the pricks of law and order? To make my meaning more clear, would not every boy, for instance—that is every boy of any account—rather be a pirate captain than a Member of Parliament? And we ourselves; would we not rather read such a story as that of Captain Avery’s capture of the East Indian treasure-ship, with its beautiful princess and load of jewels (which gems he sold by the handful, history sayeth, to a Bristol merchant), than—say one of Bishop Atterbury’s sermons or the goodly Master Robert Boyle’s religious romance of “Theodora and Didymus”? It is to be apprehended that to the unregenerate nature of most of us, there can be but one answer to such a query. In the pleasurable warmth the heart feels in answer to tales of derring-do, Nelson’s battles are all mightily interesting, but even in spite of their romance of splendid courage, I fancy that the majority of us would rather turn back over the leaves of history to read how Drake captured the Spanish treasure-ship in the South Sea, and of how he divided such a quantity of booty in the Island of Plate (so named because of the tremendous dividend there declared) that it had to be measured in quart bowls, being too considerable to be counted. Courage and daring, no matter how mad and ungodly, have always a redundancy of vim and life to recommend them to the nether man that lies within us, and no doubt his desperate courage, his battle against the tremendous odds of all the civilized world of law and order have had much to do in making a popular hero of our friend of the black flag. But it is not altogether courage and daring that endears him to our hearts. There is another and perhaps a greater kinship in that lust for wealth that makes one’s fancy revel more pleasantly in the story of the division of treasure in the pirate’s island retreat, the hiding of his godless gains somewhere in the sandy stretch of tropic beach, there to remain hidden until the time should come to rake the dubloons up again and to spend them like a lord in polite society, than in the most thrilling tales of his wonderful escapes from commissioned cruisers through tortuous channels between the coral-reefs. And what a life of adventure is his to be sure! A life of constant alertness, constant danger, constant escape! An ocean Ishmaelite, he wanders for ever aimlessly, homelessly; now unheard of for months, now careening his boat on some lonely uninhabited shore, now appearing suddenly to swoop down on some merchant-vessel with rattle of musketry, shouting, yells, and a hell of unbridled passions let loose to rend and tear.
