George Berkley - "The Querist"

Edgar Rice Burroughs - "Pellucidar"

Arthur M. Winfield - "The Rover Boys in the Jungle"

Alonzo Reed and Brainerd Kellogg - "Higher Lessons in English"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Title

J >> J. Fenimore Cooper >> Title




"No. 1," I commenced. "Certificates of public stock held by Tho.
Goldencalf, June 12th, 1815." We were now at June 29th of the same
year. As I laid aside this packet I observed that the sum indorsed
on its back greatly exceeded a million. "No. 2. Certificates of Bank
of England stock." This sum was several hundred thousands of pounds.
"No. 3. South Sea Annuities." Nearly three hundred thousand pounds.
"No. 4. Bonds and mortgages." Four hundred and thirty thousand
pounds. "No. 5. The bond of Sir Joseph Job for sixty-three thousand
pounds."

I laid down the paper and involuntarily exclaimed, "Property is in
danger!" Sir Joseph turned pale, but he beckoned to me to proceed,
saying, "We shall soon come to the will, sir."

"No. 6.--" I hesitated; for it was an assignment to myself, which
from its very nature I perceived was an abortive attempt to escape
the payment of the legacy duty.

"Well, sir, No. 6?" inquired Sir Joseph, with tremulous exultation.

"Is an instrument affecting myself, and with which you have no
concern, sir."

"We shall see, sir, we shall see, sir--if you refuse to exhibit the
paper there are laws to compel you."

"To do what, Sir Joseph Job? To exhibit to my father's debtors'
papers that are exclusively addressed to me and which can affect me
only? But here is the paper, gentlemen, that you so much desire to
see. 'No. 7. The last will and testament of Tho. Goldencalf, dated
June 17th, 1816.'" (He died June the 24th of the same year.)

"Ah! the precious instrument!" exclaimed Sir Joseph Job, eagerly
extending his hand as if expecting to receive the will.

"This paper, as you perceive, gentlemen," I said, holding it up in a
manner that all present might see it, "is especially addressed to
myself, and it shall not quit my hands until I learn that some other
has a better right to it."

I confess my heart failed me as I broke the seals, for I had seen
but little of my father and I knew that he had been a man of very
peculiar opinions as well as habits. The will was all in his own
handwriting, and it was very short. Summoning courage I read it
aloud in the following words:

"In the name of God--Amen: I, Tho. Goldencalf, of the parish of Bow,
in the city of London, do publish and declare this instrument to be
my last will and testament:

"That is to say; I bequeath to my only child and much-beloved son,
John Goldencalf, all my real estate in the parish of Bow and city of
London, aforesaid, to be held in free-simple by him, his heirs, and
assigns, forever.

"I bequeath to my said only child and much-beloved son, John
Goldencalf, all my personal property of every sort and description
whatever of which I may die possessed, including bonds and
mortgages, public debt, bank stock, notes of hand, goods and
chattels, and all others of my effects, to him, his heirs, or
assigns.

"I nominate and appoint my said much-beloved son, John Goldencalf,
to be the sole executor of this my last will and testament,
counselling him not to confide in any of those who may profess to
have been my friends; and particularly to turn a deaf ear to all the
pretensions and solicitations of Sir Joseph Job, Knight. In witness
whereof," etc., etc.

This will was duly executed, and it was witnessed by the nurse, his
confidential clerk, and the housemaid.

"Property is in danger, Sir Joseph!" I dryly remarked, as I gathered
together the papers in order to secure them.

"This will may be set aside, gentlemen!" cried the knight in a fury.
"It contains a libel!"

"And for whose benefit, Sir Joseph?" I quietly inquired. "With or
without the will my title to my father's assets would seem to be
equally valid."

This was so evidently true that the more prudent retired in silence;
and even Sir Joseph after a short delay, during which he appeared to
be strangely agitated, withdrew. The next week his failure was
announced, in consequence of some extravagant risks on 'Change, and
eventually I received but three shillings and fourpence in the pound
for my bond of sixty-three thousand.

When the money was paid I could not help exclaiming mentally,
"Property is in danger!"

The following morning Sir Joseph Job balanced his account with the
world by cutting his throat.




CHAPTER V.

ABOUT THE SOCIAL-STAKE SYSTEM, THE DANGERS OF CONCENTRATION, AND
OTHER MORAL AND IMMORAL CURIOSITIES.


The affairs of my father were almost as easy of settlement as those
of a pauper. In twenty-four hours I was completely master of them,
and found myself if not the richest, certainly one of the richest
subjects of Europe. I say subjects, for sovereigns frequently have a
way of appropriating the effects of others that would render a
pretension to rivalry ridiculous. Debts there were none: and if
there had been, ready money was not wanting; the balance in cash in
my favor at the bank amounted in itself to a fortune.

The reader may now suppose that I was perfectly happy. Without a
solitary claim on either my time or my estate, I was in the
enjoyment of an income that materially exceeded the revenues of many
reigning princes. I had not an ex-pensive nor a vicious habit of any
sort. Of houses, horses, hounds, packs, and menials, there were none
to vex or perplex me. In every particular save one I was completely
my own master. That one was the near, dear, cherished sentiment that
rendered Anna in my eyes an angel (and truly she was little short of
it in those of other people), and made her the polar star to which
every wish pointed. How gladly would I have paid half a million just
then to be the grandson of a baronet with precedency from the
seventeenth century!

There was, however, another and a present cause for un-easiness that
gave me even more concern than the fact that my family reached the
dark ages with so much embarrassing facility. In witnessing the
dying agony of my ancestor I had got a dread lesson on the vanity,
the hopeless character, the dangers, and the delusions of wealth
that time can never eradicate. The history of its accumulation was
ever present to mar the pleasure of its possession. I do not mean
that I suspected what by the world's convention is deemed
dishonesty--of that there had been no necessity--but simply that the
heartless and estranged existence, the waste of energies, the
blunted charities, and the isolated and distrustful habits of my
father appeared to me to be but poorly requited by the joyless
ownership of its millions. I would have given largely to be directed
in such a way as while escaping the wastefulness of the shoals of
Scylla I might in my own case steer clear of the miserly rocks of
Charybdis.

When I drove from between the smoky lines of the London houses into
the green fields and amid the blossoming hedges, this earth looked
beautiful and as if it were made to be loved. I saw in it the
workmanship of a divine and beneficent Creator, and it was not
difficult to persuade myself that he who dwelt in the confusion of a
town in order to transfer gold from the pocket of his neighbor to
his own had mistaken the objects of his being. My poor ancestor who
had never quitted London stood before me with his dying regrets; and
my first resolution was to live in open communion with my kind. So
intense, indeed, did my anxiety to execute this purpose become that
it might have led even to frenzy had not a fortunate circumstance
interposed to save me from so dire a calamity.

The coach in which I had taken passage (for I purposely avoided the
parade and trouble of post-chaise and servants), passed through a
market town of known loyalty on the eve of a contested election.
This appeal to the intelligence and patriotism of the constituency
had occurred in consequence of the late incumbent having taken
office. The new minister, for he was a member of the cabinet, had
just ended his canvass, and he was about to address his fellow-
subjects from a window of the tavern in which he lodged. Fatigued,
but ready to seek mental relief by any means, I threw myself from
the coach, secured a room, and made one of the multitude.

The favorite candidate occupied a large balcony surrounded by his
principal friends, among whom it was delightful to see earls, lords
John, baronets, dignitaries of the church, tradesmen of influence in
the borough, and even a mechanic or two, all squeezed together in
the agreeable amalgamation of political affinity. Here then, thought
I, is an example of the heavenly charities I The candidate himself,
the son and heir of a peer, feels that he is truly of the same flesh
and blood as his constituents; how amiably he smiles!--how bland are
his manners!--and with what cordiality does he shake hands with the
greasiest and the worst! There must be a corrective to human pride,
a stimulus to the charities, a never-ending lesson of benevolence in
this part of our excellent system, and I will look farther into it.
The candidate appeared and his harangue commenced.

Memory would fail me were I to attempt recording the precise
language of the orator, but his opinions and precepts are so deeply
graven on my recollection that I do not fear misrepresenting them.
He commenced with a very proper and eloquent eulogium on the
constitution, which he fearlessly pronounced to be in its way the
very perfection of human reason; in proof of which he adduced the
well-ascertained fact that it had always been known throughout the
vicissitudes and trials of so many centuries to accommodate itself
to circumstances, abhorring change. "Yes, my friends," he exclaimed,
in a burst of patriotic and constitutional fervor, "whether under
the roses or the lilies--the Tudors, the Stuarts, or the illustrious
house of Brunswick, this glorious structure has resisted the storms
of faction, has been able to receive under its sheltering roof the
most opposite elements of domestic strife, affording protection,
warmth, aye, and food and raiment"-(here the orator happily laid his
hand on the shoulder of a butcher, who wore a frieze overcoat that
made him look not unlike a stall-fed beast)--"yes, food and raiment,
victuals and drink, to the meanest subject in the realm. Nor is this
all; it is a constitution peculiarly English: and who is there so
base, so vile, so untrue to himself, to his fathers, to his
descendants, as to turn his back on a constitution that is
thoroughly and inherently English, a constitution that he has
inherited from his ancestors, and which by every obligation both
human and divine he is bound to transmit unchanged to posterity";--
here the orator, who continued to speak, however, was deafened by
shouts of applause, and that part of the subject might very fairly
be considered as definitively settled.

From the constitution as a whole the candidate next proceeded to
extol the particular feature of it that was known as the borough of
Householder. According to his account of this portion of the
government, its dwellers were animated by the noblest spirit of
independence, the most rooted determination to uphold the ministry
of which he was the least worthy member, and were distinguished by
what in an ecstasy of political eloquence he happily termed the most
freeborn understanding of its rights and privileges. This loyal and
judicious borough had never been known to waste its favors on those
who had not a stake in the community. It understood that fundamental
principle of good government which lays down the axiom that none
were to be trusted but those who had a visible and an extended
interest in the country; for without these pledges of honesty and
independence what had the elector to expect but bribery and
corruption--a traffic in his dearest rights, and a bargaining that
might destroy the glorious institutions under which he dwelt. This
part of the harangue was listened to in respectful silence, and
shortly after the orator concluded; when the electors dispersed,
with, no doubt, a better opinion of themselves and the constitution
than it had probably been their good fortune to entertain since the
previous election.

Accident placed me at dinner (the house being crowded) at the same
table with an attorney who had been very active the whole morning
among the Householders, and who I soon learned, from himself, was
the especial agent of the owner of the independent borough in
question. He told me that he had came down with the expectation of
disposing of the whole property to Lord Pledge, the ministerial
candidate named; but the means had not been forthcoming as he had
been led to hope, and the bargain was unluckily broken off at the
very moment when it was of the utmost importance to know to whom the
independent electors rightfully belonged.

"His lordship, however," continued the attorney, winking, "has done
what is handsome; and there can be no more doubt of his election
than there would be of yours did you happen to own the borough."

"And is the property now open for sale?" I asked.

"Certainly-my principal can hold out no longer. The price is
settled, and I have his power of attorney to make the preliminary
bargain. 'Tis a thousand pities that the public mind should be left
in this undecided state on the eve of an election."

"Then, sir, I will be the purchaser."

My companion looked at me with astonishment and doubt. He had
transacted too much business of this nature, however, not to feel
his way before he was either off or on.

"The price of the estate is three hundred and twenty-five thousand
pounds, sir, and the rental is only six!"

"Be it so. My name is Goldencalf: by accompanying me to town you
shall receive the money."

"Goldencalf! What, sir, the only son and heir of the late Thomas
Goldencalf of Cheapside?"

"The same. My father has not been dead a month."

"Pardon me, sir--convince me of your identity--we must be particular
in matters of this sort--and you shall have possession of the
property in season to secure your own election or that of any of
your friends. I will return Lord Pledge his small advances, and
another time he will know better than to fail of keeping his
promises. What is a borough good for if a nobleman's word is not
sacred? You will find the electors, in particular, every way worthy
of your favor. They are as frank, loyal, and straightforward a
constituency as any in England. No skulking behind the ballot for
them!--and in all respects they are fearless Englishmen who will do
what they say, and say whatever their landlord shall please to
require of them."

As I had sundry letters and other documents about me, nothing was
easier than to convince the attorney of my identity. He called for
pen and ink; drew out of his pocket the contract that had been
prepared for Lord Pledge; gave it to me to read; filled the blanks;
and affixing his name, called the waiters as witnesses, and
presented me the paper with a promptitude and respect that I found
really delightful. So much, thought I, for having given pledges to
society by the purchase of a borough. I drew on my bankers for three
hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds, and arose from table
virtually the owner of the estate of Householder and of the
political consciences of its tenantry.

A fact so important could not long be unknown; and in a few minutes
all eyes in the coffee-room were upon me. The landlord presented
himself and begged I would do him the honor to take possession of
his family parlor, there being no other at his disposal. I was
hardly installed before a servant in a handsome livery presented the
following note.

"DEAR MR. GOLDENCALF:

"I have this moment heard of your being in town, and am exceedingly
rejoiced to learn it. A long intimacy with your late excellent and
most loyal father justifies my claiming you for a friend, and I
waive all ceremony (official, of course, is meant, there being no
reason for any other between us), and beg to be admitted for half an
hour.

"Dear Mr. Goldencalf,"

"Yours very faithfully and sincerely,"

"PLEDGE."

"--GOLDENCALF, Esquire."

" Monday evening."

I begged that the noble visitor might not be made to wait a moment.
Lord Pledge met me like an old and intimate friend. He made a
hundred handsome inquiries after my dead ancestor; spoke feelingly
of his regret at not having been summoned to attend his death-bed;
and then very ingenuously and warmly congratulated me on my
succession to so large a property.

"I hear, too, you have bought this borough, my dear sir. I could not
make it convenient just at this particular moment to conclude my own
arrangement--but it is a good thing. Three hundred and twenty
thousand, I suppose, as was mentioned between me and the other
party?"

"Three hundred and twenty-five thousand, Lord Pledge."

I perceived by the countenance of the noble candidate that I had
paid the odd five thousand as a fine--a circumstance which accounted
for the promptitude of the attorney in the transaction, he most
probably pocketing the difference himself.

"You mean to sit, of course?"

"I do, my lord, as one of the members, at the next general election;
but at present I shall be most happy to aid your return."

"My dear Mr. Goldencalf--"

"Really, without presuming to compliment, Lord Pledge, the noble
sentiments I heard you express this morning were so very proper, so
exceedingly statesmanlike, so truly English, that I shall feel
infinitely more satisfaction in knowing that you fill the vacant
seat than if it were in my own possession."

"I honor your public spirit, Mr. Goldencalf, and only wish to God
there was more of it in the world. But you can count on our
friendship, sir. What you have just remarked is true, very true,
only too true, true to a hair-a-a-a--I mean, my dear Mr. Goldencalf,
most especially those sentiments of mine which-a-a-a-I say it,
before God, without vanity--but which, as you have so very ably
intimated, are so truly proper and English."

"I sincerely think so, Lord Pledge, or I should not have said it. I
am peculiarly situated myself. With an immense fortune, without
rank, name, or connections, nothing is easier than for one of my
years to be led astray; and it is my ardent desire to hit upon some
expedient that may connect me properly with society."

"Marry, my dear young friend--select a wife from among the fair and
virtuous of this happy isle--unluckily I can propose nothing in this
way myself--for both my own sisters are disposed of."

"I have made choice, already, I thank you a thousand times, my dear
Lord Pledge; although I scarcely dare execute my own wishes. There
are objections--if I were only the child, now, of a baronet's second
son, or--"

"Become a baronet yourself," once more interrupted my noble friend,
with an evident relief from suspense; for I verily believe he
thought I was about to ask for something better. "Your affair shall
be arranged by the end of the week--and if there is anything else I
can do for you, I beg you to name it without reserve."

"If I could hear a few more of those remarkable sentiments of yours,
concerning the stake we should all have in society, I think it would
relieve my mind."

My companion looked at me a moment with a very awkward sort of an
intensity, drew his hand across his brows, reflected, and then
obligingly complied.

"You attach too much importance, Mr. Goldencalf, to a few certainly
very just but very ill-arranged ideas. That a man without a proper
stake in society is little better than the beasts of the fields, I
hold to be so obvious that it is unnecessary to dwell on the point.
Reason as you will, forward or backward, you arrive at the same
result--he that hath nothing is usually treated by mankind little
better than a dog, and he that is little better than a dog usually
has nothing. Again. What distinguishes the savage from the civilized
man? Why, civilization to be sure. Now, what is civilization? The
arts of life. What feeds, nourishes, sustains the arts of life?
Money or property. By consequence, civilization is property, and
property is civilization. If the control of a country is in the
hands of those who possess the property, the government is a
civilized government; but, on the other hand, if it is in the hands
of those who have no property, the government is necessarily an
uncivilized government. It is quite impossible that any one should
become a safe statesman who does not possess a direct property
interest in society. You know there is not a tyro of our political
sect who does not fully admit the truth of this axiom."

"Mr. Pitt?"

"Why, Pitt was certainly an exception in one way; but then, you will
recollect, he was the immediate representative of the tories, who
own most of the property of England."

"Mr. Fox?"

"Fox represented the whigs, who own all the rest, you know. No, my
dear Goldencalf, reason as you will, we shall always arrive at the
same results. You will, of course, as you have just said, take one
of the seats yourself at the next general election?"

"I shall be too proud of being your colleague to hesitate."

This speech sealed our friendship; for it was a pledge to my noble
acquaintance of his future connection with the borough. He was much
too high-bred to express his thanks in vulgar phrases (though high-
breeding rarely exhibits all its finer qualities pending an
election), but--a man of the world, and one of a class whose main
business it is to put the suaviter in modo, as the French have it en
evidence,--the reader may be sure that when we parted that night I
was in perfect good humor with myself and, as a matter of course,
with my new acquaintance.

The next day the canvass was renewed, and we had another convincing
speech on the subject of the virtue of "a stake in society"; for
Lord Pledge was tactician enough to attack the citadel, once assured
of its weak point, rather than expend his efforts on the outworks of
the place. That night the attorney arrived from town with the title-
deeds all properly executed (they had been some time in preparation
for Lord Pledge), and the following morning early the tenants were
served with the usual notices, with a handsomely expressed sentiment
on my part in favor of "a stake in society." About noon Lord Pledge
walked over the course, as it is expressed at Newmarket and
Doncaster. After dinner we separated, my noble friend returning to
town, while I pursued my way to the rectory.

Anna never appeared more fresh, more serene, more elevated above
mortality, than when we met, a week after I had quitted Householder,
in the breakfast-parlor of her father's abode.

"You are beginning to look like yourself again, Jack," she said,
extending her hand with the simple cordiality of an Englishwoman;
"and I hope we shall find you more rational."

"Ah, Anna, if I could only presume to throw myself at your feet, and
tell you how much and what I feel, I should be the happiest fellow
in all England."

"As it is you are the most miserable!" the laughing girl answered
as, crimsoned to the temples, she drew away the hand I was foolishly
pressing against my heart. "Let us go to breakfast, Mr. Goldencalf--
my father has ridden across the country to visit Dr. Liturgy."

"Anna," I said, after seating myself and taking a cup of tea from
fingers that were rosy as the morn, "I fear you are the greatest
enemy that I have on earth."

"John Goldencalf!" exclaimed the startled girl, turning pale and
then flushing violently. "Pray explain yourself."

"I love you to my heart's core--could marry you, and then, I fear,
worship you, as man never before worshipped woman."

Anna laughed faintly.

"And you feel in danger of the sin of idolatry?" she at length
succeeded in saying.

"No, I am in danger of narrowing my sympathies--of losing a broad
and safe hold of life--of losing my proper stake in society--of--in
short, of becoming as useless to my fellows as my poor, poor father,
and of making an end as miserable. Oh! Anna, could you have
witnessed the hopelessness of that death-bed, you could never wish
me a fate like his!"

My pen is unequal to convey an adequate idea of the expression with
which Anna regarded me. Wonder, doubt, apprehension, affection, and
anguish were all beaming in her eyes; but the unnatural brightness
of these conflicting sentiments was tempered by a softness that
resembled the pearly lustre of an Italian sky.

"If I yield to my fondness, Anna, in what will my condition differ
from that of my miserable father's? He concentrated his feelings in
the love of money, and I--yes, I feel it here, I know it is here--I
should love you so intensely as to shut out every generous sentiment
in favor of others. I have a fearful responsibility on my shoulders-
-wealth, gold; gold beyond limits; and to save my very soul I must
extend not narrow my interest in my fellow-creatures. Were there a
hundred such Annas I might press you all to my heart--but, one!--no-
-no--'twould be misery--'twould be perdition! The very excess of
such a passion would render me a heartless miser, unworthy of the
confidence of my fellow-men!"

The radiant and yet serene eyes of Anna seemed to read my soul; and
when I had done speaking she arose, stole timidly to my side of the
table, as woman approaches when she feels most, placed her velvet-
like hand on my burning forehead, pressed its throbbing pulses
gently to her heart, burst into tears, and fled.