Preface: In which it is proved that, notwithstanding their names? ending in OS and IS, the heroes of the story which we are about to have the honor to relate to our readers have nothing mythological about them. A short time ago, while making researches in the Royal Library for my History of Louis XIV, I stumbled by chance upon the Memoirs of M. D'Artagnan, printed ? as were most of the works of that period, in which authors could not tell the truth without the risk of a ...

Binder's title: Bampton lectures. 1807 ;

Sects ; Church of England ; Reformation ; Sermons, English

Preface: The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art?s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things. The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these t...

Suffering and its overcoming in light of Buddhist and evolutionary psychology.

Even as Detective Dhruva was enamored of Kavya, whom he rescues from her kidnapper, Radha, an alleged murderess on the run, gatecrashes into his life. But when Kavya too joins him after her man was poisoned there ensues the tussle of a love triangle, which gets unraveled in a poignant end, but not before a series of murders. So, then who could have poisoned Ranjit the realtor, Shakeel the Inspector, Pravar the criminal and Natya his accomplice? Well the needle of sus...

Prey on the Prowl That June evening, the crimson sun gave in to the dark monsoon clouds to let them end its long summer reign over the Deccan skies. What with the thickening clouds thundering in triumph, Dhruva woke up from his siesta, and by the time he moved into the portico of his palatial bungalow at 9, Castle Hills, the skies had opened up to shower its sprawling lawns. It was as if the eagerness of the rainfall matched the longing of the parched soil to receive it...