Israel Potter: His Fifty Years of Exile. Herman MelvilleЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Herman Melville
Israel Potter: His Fifty Years of Exile
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4057664643490
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I.— THE BIRTHPLACE OF ISRAEL.
CHAPTER II.— THE YOUTHFUL ADVENTURES OF ISRAEL.
CHAPTER V.— ISRAEL IN THE LION'S DEN.
CHAPTER VIII.— WHICH HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT DR. FRANKLIN AND THE LATIN QUARTER.
CHAPTER IX.— ISRAEL IS INITIATED INTO THE MYSTERIES OF LODGING-HOUSES IN THE LATIN QUARTER.
CHAPTER X.— ANOTHER ADVENTURER APPEARS UPON THE SCENE.
CHAPTER XI.— PAUL JONES IN A REVERIE.
CHAPTER XII.— RECROSSING THE CHANNEL, ISRAEL RETURNS TO THE SQUIRE'S ABODE—HIS ADVENTURES THERE.
CHAPTER XIII.— HIS ESCAPE FROM THE HOUSE, WITH VARIOUS ADVENTURES FOLLOWING.
CHAPTER XIV.— IN WHICH ISRAEL IS SAILOR UNDER TWO FLAGS, AND IN THREE SHIPS, AND ALL IN ONE NIGHT.
CHAPTER XV.— THEY SAIL AS FAR AS THE CRAG OF AILSA.
CHAPTER XVI.— THEY LOOK IN AT CARRICKFERGUS, AND DESCEND ON WHITEHAVEN.
CHAPTER XVII.— THEY CALL AT THE EARL OF SELKIRK'S, AND AFTERWARDS FIGHT THE SHIP-OF-WAR DRAKE.
CHAPTER XVIII.— THE EXPEDITION THAT SAILED FROM GROIX.
CHAPTER XIX.— THEY FIGHT THE SERAPIS.
CHAPTER XXI.— SAMSON AMONG THE PHILISTINES.
CHAPTER XXII.— SOMETHING FURTHER OF ETHAN ALLEN; WITH ISRAEL'S FLIGHT TOWARDS THE WILDERNESS.
CHAPTER XXIII.— ISRAEL IN EGYPT.
CHAPTER XXV.— IN THE CITY OF DIS.
CHAPTER XXVI.— FORTY-FIVE YEARS.
CHAPTER XXVII.— REQUIESCAT IN PACE.
GLORY TO THE HEROES THAT FOUGHT!"
CHAPTER I.— THE BIRTHPLACE OF ISRAEL.
The traveller who at the present day is content to travel in the good old Asiatic style, neither rushed along by a locomotive, nor dragged by a stage-coach; who is willing to enjoy hospitalities at far-scattered farmhouses, instead of paying his bill at an inn; who is not to be frightened by any amount of loneliness, or to be deterred by the roughest roads or the highest hills; such a traveller in the eastern part of Berkshire, Massachusetts, will find ample food for poetic reflection in the singular scenery of a country, which, owing to the ruggedness of the soil and its lying out of the track of all public conveyances, remains almost as unknown to the general tourist as the interior of Bohemia.
Travelling northward from the township of Otis, the road leads for twenty or thirty miles towards Windsor, lengthwise upon that long broken spur of heights which the Green Mountains of Vermont send into Massachusetts. For nearly the whole of the distance, you have the continual sensation of being upon some terrace in the moon. The feeling of the plain or the valley is never yours; scarcely the feeling of the earth. Unless by a sudden precipitation of the road you find yourself plunging into some gorge, you pass on, and on, and on, upon the crests or slopes of pastoral mountains, while far below, mapped out in its beauty, the valley of the Housatonie lies endlessly along at your feet. Often, as your horse gaining some lofty level tract, flat as a table, trots gayly over the almost deserted and sodded road, and your admiring eye sweeps the broad landscape beneath,