Long novel e-books (over 3h to read) of George MacDonald

CHAPTER I "A spirit .

CHAPTER I. THE LIBRARY I had just finished my studies at Oxford, and was taking a brief holiday from work before assuming definitely the management of the estate.

CHAPTER I. THE HAY-LOFT I HAVE been asked to tell you about the back of the north wind.

SERIES I, II, III IN ONE VOLUME Comfort ye, comfort ye my people CONTENTS UNSPOKEN SERMONS SERIES ONE THE CH...

Since printing throughout the title _Orts_, a doubt has arisen in my mind as to its fitting the nature of the volume.

"Come oot o' the gutter, ye nickum!"

Robert Falconer, school-boy, aged fourteen, thought he had never seen his father; that is, thought he had no recollection of having ever seen him.

Chapter I _My Boyhood._ My father belonged to the widespread family of the Campbells, and possessed a small landed property in the north of Argyll.

CHAPTER I: MISS HORN "Na, na; I hae nae feelin's, thankfu' to say.

Of all the flowers in the mead, Then love I roost these flowers white and rede, Such that men callen daisies in our town.

A swift, gray November wind had taken every chimney of the house for an organ-pipe, and was roaring in them all at once, quelling the more distant and varied noises of the woods, which moaned and s...

Before I begin to tell you some of the things I have seen and heard, in both of which I have had to take a share, now from the compulsion of my office, now from the leading of my own heart, and now...

I think that is the way my father would begin.

CHAPTER I. _FATHER, CHILD, AND NURSE._ It would be but stirring a muddy pool to inquire--not what motives induced, but what forces compelled sir Wilton Lestrange to marry a woman nobody knew.

CHAPTER I: THE STABLE YARD It was one of those exquisite days that come in every winter, in which it seems no longer the dead body, but the lovely ghost of summer.

CHAPTER I Introductory I do not intend to carry my story one month beyond the hour when I saw that my boyhood was gone and my youth arrived; a period determined to some by the first tail-coat, t...

The Wind and the Moon The Foolish Harebell Song An Improvisati

Dear Friends,--I am beginning a new book like an old sermon; but, as you know, I have been so accustomed to preach all my life, that whatever I say or write will more or less take the shape of a se...

If the act of worship be the highest human condition, it follows that the highest human art must find material in the modes of worship.

[Illustration] In the month of November, not many years ago, a young man was walking from Highbury to the City.

I am old, else, I think, I should not have the courage to tell the story I am going to tell.

STEPHEN ARCHER THE GIFTS OF THE CHILD CHRIST THE HISTORY OF PHOTOGEN AND NYCTERIS THE BUTCHER'S BILLS POET IN A STORM IF I HAD A FATHER STEPHEN ARCHER Stephen Archer was a stationer, boo...

The room was handsomely furnished, but such as I would quarrel with none for calling common, for it certainly was uninteresting.

The rector sat on the box of his carriage, driving his horses toward his church, the grand old abbey-church of Glaston.

Chapter I. How I Came to know Clare Skymer.

I am--I will not say how old, but well past middle age.

It was a lovely morning in the first of summer.

CHAPTER I THE SHOP It was an evening early in May. The sun was low, and the street was mottled with the shadows of its paving-stones--smooth enough, but far from evenly set.

CHAPTER I "Whaur are ye aff til this bonny mornin', Maggie, my doo?"

CHAPTER I A RUNAWAY RACE Upon neighbouring stones, earth-fast, like two islands of an archipelago, in an ocean of heather, sat a boy and a girl, the girl knitting, or, as she would have called i...

It was a gray, windy noon in the beginning of autumn.

A rough, wild glen it was, to which, far back in times unknown to its annals, the family had given its name, taking in return no small portion of its history, and a good deal of the character of it...

In a kitchen of moderate size, flagged with slate, humble in its appointments, yet looking scarcely that of a farmhouse--for there were utensils about it indicating necessities more artificial than...

It was the middle of autumn, and had rained all day.

As soon as supper was over in the housekeeper's room, Dorothy sped to the keep, where she found Caspar at work.

"It was resolved that on the same evening, Chrissy should tell my uncle her story.

A BOOK OF SONNETS-- The Burnt-Offering The Unseen Face Concerning Jesus A Memorial of Africa A.M.D To Garibaldi, with a Book To S.F.S Russell Gurney To One threatened with Blindne...

Dear Friends,--I am beginning a new book like an old sermon; but, as you know, I have been so accustomed to preach all my life, that whatever I say or write will more or less take the shape of a se...