It is a great pleasure to write the word; but I am not sure there is not a certain impudence in pretending to add anything to it. Venice has been painted and described many thousands of times, and of all the cities of the world is the easiest to visit without going there. Open the first book and you will find a rhapsody about it; step into the first picture-dealer's and you will find three or four high-coloured "views" of it. There is notoriously nothing more to be said on the subject. Every one has been there, and every one has brought back a collection of photographs. There is as little mystery about the Grand Canal as about our local thoroughfare, and the name of St. Mark is as familiar as the postman's ring. It is not forbidden, however, to speak of familiar things, and I hold that for the true Venice-lover Venice is always in order. There is nothing new to be said about her certainly, but the old is better than any novelty. It would be a sad day indeed when there should be something new to say. I write these lines with the full consciousness of having no information whatever to offer. I do not pretend to enlighten the reader; I pretend only to give a fillip to his memory; and I hold any writer sufficiently justified who is himself in love with his theme.

Originally written as three complete books, this one-volume edition includes A Small Boy and Others, Notes of a Son and Brother, and The Middle Years. Begun when James was sixty-eight years old, it was written at a time when his great critical mind was actively devoted to the understanding of his existence in its complicated wholeness. The reader will come away from the book with a picture of the man within the novelist--the intimate basis of James's themes and methods.Taking its place beside The Education of Henry Adams and Hawthorne's "The Custom House," the work is an important contribution to America's autobiographic literature. It is a highly personal account of the great novelist's discovery of Europe and of his artistic vocation, as well as a fascinating story of the life of one of the most remarkable families of the nineteenth century, the members of which experienced, in James's own words, "the classic years of the great Americano-European legend."Originally published in 1983.The Princeton Legacy Library uses the latest print-on-demand technology to again make available previously out-of-print books from the distinguished backlist of Princeton University Press. These editions preserve the original texts of these important books while presenting them in durable paperback and hardcover editions. The goal of the Princeton Legacy Library is to vastly increase access to the rich scholarly heritage found in the thousands of books published by Princeton University Press since its founding in 1905.

During a portion of the first half of the present century, and more particularly during the latter part of it, there flourished and practised in the city of New York a physician who enjoyed perhaps an exceptional share of the consideration which, in the United States, has always been bestowed upon distinguished members of the medical profession. This profession in America has constantly been held in honour, and more successfully than elsewhere has put forward a claim to the epithet of “liberal.” In a country in which, to play a social part, you must either earn your income or make believe that you earn it, the healing art has appeared in a high degree to combine two recognised sources of credit. It belongs to the realm of the practical, which in the United States is a great recommendation; and it is touched by the light of science—a merit appreciated in a community in which the love of knowledge has not always been accompanied by leisure and opportunity.

This early work by Henry James was originally published in 1888 and we are now republishing it with a brand new introductory biography. Henry James was born in New York City in 1843. One of thirteen children, James had an unorthodox early education, switching between schools, private tutors and private reading. James published his first story, 'A Tragedy of Error', in the Continental Monthly in 1864, when he was twenty years old. In 1876, he emigrated to London, where he remained for the vast majority of the rest of his life, becoming a British citizen in 1915. From this point on, he was a hugely prolific author, eventually producing twenty novels and more than a hundred short stories and novellas, as well as literary criticism, plays and travelogues. Amongst James's most famous works are The Europeans (1878), Daisy Miller (1878), Washington Square (1880), The Bostonians (1886), and one of the most famous ghost stories of all time, The Turn of the Screw (1898). We are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork.

The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve in an old house, a strange tale should essentially be, I remember no comment uttered till somebody happened to say that it was the only case he had met in which such a visitation had fallen on a child. The case, I may mention, was that of an apparition in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion—an appearance, of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother and waking her up in the terror of it; waking her not to dissipate his dread and soothe him to sleep again, but to encounter also, herself, before she had succeeded in doing so, the same sight that had shaken him. It was this observation that drew from Douglas—not immediately, but later in the evening—a reply that had the interesting consequence to which I call attention. Someone else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. This I took for a sign that he had himself something to produce and that we should only have to wait. We waited in fact till two nights later; but that same evening, before we scattered, he brought out what was in his mind.

The litigation seemed interminable and had in fact been complicated; but by the decision on the appeal the judgement of the divorce-court was confirmed as to the assignment of the child. The father, who, though bespattered from head to foot, had made good his case, was, in pursuance of this triumph, appointed to keep her: it was not so much that the mother's character had been more absolutely damaged as that the brilliancy of a lady's complexion (and this lady's, in court, was immensely remarked) might be more regarded as showing the spots. Attached, however, to the second pronouncement was a condition that detracted, for Beale Farange, from its sweetness—an order that he should refund to his late wife the twenty-six hundred pounds put down by her, as it was called, some three years before, in the interest of the child's maintenance and precisely on a proved understanding that he would take no proceedings: a sum of which he had had the administration and of which he could render not the least account. The obligation thus attributed to her adversary was no small balm to Ida's resentment; it drew a part of the sting from her defeat and compelled Mr. Farange perceptibly to lower his crest. He was unable to produce the money or to raise it in any way; so that after a squabble scarcely less public and scarcely more decent than the original shock of battle his only issue from his predicament was a compromise proposed by his legal advisers and finally accepted by hers.

Henry James (15 April 1843 – 28 February 1916) was an American-born writer who traveled Europe for much of his younger life. Born to a wealthy family that emphasized education, James was tutored by teachers from all over Europe during his adolescence and briefly attended Harvard Law School before deciding to concentrate on writing. James is considered one of the key contributors to nineteenth century literary realism, and some of his best known novels include The American, Daisy Miller, and The Portrait of a Lady.

Henry James' berühmte Erzählung über Zuneigung und Vorurteile. Der Amerikaner Winterbourne trifft in einem Hotel in der Schweiz zum ersten Mal auf die junge Daisy Miller aus New York State. Im Gegensatz zu ihrem kleinen Bruder Randolph, ist Daisy von Europa und der ansässigen High Society begeistert. Sie zieht Winterbourne sofort durch Schönheit und keckes Auftreten in ihren Bann, doch immer wieder verwirrt ihn das auffällige Verhalten der jungen Dame. Nichtsdestotrotz willigt er ein, mit dem bezaubernden Mädchen allein einen Ausflug zu unternehmen. Als er ihr am Ende des Schlossbesuches beichtet, dass er am nächsten Tag abreisen müsse, ist Daisy außer sich und fordert ihren Landsmann auf, sie im kommenden Winter in Rom zu besuchen. Winterbourne willigt ein, doch als er Italien erreicht, muss er erfahren, dass Daisy mittlerweile Bekanntschaft mit einem stattlichen Italiener gemacht hat ... »Ein Leben ohne Henry James ist möglich, aber sinnlos.« DIE ZEIT, 31.07.2014 »Henry James ist fraglos einer der großen Frauen-Romanciers der Weltliteratur.« Falter (A), 13.08.2014

Henry James' berühmte Erzählung über Zuneigung und Vorurteile. Der Amerikaner Winterbourne trifft in einem Hotel in der Schweiz zum ersten Mal auf die junge Daisy Miller aus New York State. Im Gegensatz zu ihrem kleinen Bruder Randolph, ist Daisy von Europa und der ansässigen High Society begeistert. Sie zieht Winterbourne sofort durch Schönheit und keckes Auftreten in ihren Bann, doch immer wieder verwirrt ihn das auffällige Verhalten der jungen Dame. Nichtsdestotrotz willigt er ein, mit dem bezaubernden Mädchen allein einen Ausflug zu unternehmen. Als er ihr am Ende des Schlossbesuches beichtet, dass er am nächsten Tag abreisen müsse, ist Daisy außer sich und fordert ihren Landsmann auf, sie im kommenden Winter in Rom zu besuchen. Winterbourne willigt ein, doch als er Italien erreicht, muss er erfahren, dass Daisy mittlerweile Bekanntschaft mit einem stattlichen Italiener gemacht hat ... »Ein Leben ohne Henry James ist möglich, aber sinnlos.« DIE ZEIT, 31.07.2014 »Henry James ist fraglos einer der großen Frauen-Romanciers der Weltliteratur.« Falter (A), 13.08.2014

Henry James' berühmte Erzählung über Zuneigung und Vorurteile. Der Amerikaner Winterbourne trifft in einem Hotel in der Schweiz zum ersten Mal auf die junge Daisy Miller aus New York State. Im Gegensatz zu ihrem kleinen Bruder Randolph, ist Daisy von Europa und der ansässigen High Society begeistert. Sie zieht Winterbourne sofort durch Schönheit und keckes Auftreten in ihren Bann, doch immer wieder verwirrt ihn das auffällige Verhalten der jungen Dame. Nichtsdestotrotz willigt er ein, mit dem bezaubernden Mädchen allein einen Ausflug zu unternehmen. Als er ihr am Ende des Schlossbesuches beichtet, dass er am nächsten Tag abreisen müsse, ist Daisy außer sich und fordert ihren Landsmann auf, sie im kommenden Winter in Rom zu besuchen. Winterbourne willigt ein, doch als er Italien erreicht, muss er erfahren, dass Daisy mittlerweile Bekanntschaft mit einem stattlichen Italiener gemacht hat ... »Ein Leben ohne Henry James ist möglich, aber sinnlos.« DIE ZEIT, 31.07.2014 »Henry James ist fraglos einer der großen Frauen-Romanciers der Weltliteratur.« Falter (A), 13.08.2014

During a portion of the first half of the present century, and more particularly during the latter part of it, there flourished and practised in the city of New York a physician who enjoyed perhaps an exceptional share of the consideration which, in the United States, has always been bestowed upon distinguished members of the medical profession. This profession in America has constantly been held in honour, and more successfully than elsewhere has put forward a claim to the epithet of “liberal.” In a country in which, to play a social part, you must either earn your income or make believe that you earn it, the healing art has appeared in a high degree to combine two recognised sources of credit. It belongs to the realm of the practical, which in the United States is a great recommendation; and it is touched by the light of science—a merit appreciated in a community in which the love of knowledge has not always been accompanied by leisure and opportunity.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

Product Description: Confidence is a novel by Henry James, first published as a serial in Scribner's Monthly in 1879 and then as a book later the same year. This light and somewhat awkward comedy centers on artist Bernard Longueville, scientist Gordon Wright, and the sometimes inscrutable heroine, Angela Vivian...read more

She waited, Kate Croy, for her father to come in, but he kept her unconscionably, and there were moments at which she showed herself, in the glass over the mantel, a face positively pale with the irritation that had brought her to the point of going away without sight of him. It was at this point, however, that she remained; changing her place, moving from the shabby sofa to the armchair upholstered in a glazed cloth that gave at once—she had tried it—the sense of the slippery and of the sticky. She had looked at the sallow prints on the walls and at the lonely magazine, a year old, that combined, with a small lamp in coloured glass and a knitted white centre-piece wanting in freshness, to enhance the effect of the purplish cloth on the principal table; she had above all, from time to time, taken a brief stand on the small balcony to which the pair of long windows gave access. The vulgar little street, in this view, offered scant relief from the vulgar little room; its main office was to suggest to her that the narrow black house-fronts, adjusted to a standard that would have been low even for backs, constituted quite the publicity implied by such privacies. One felt them in the room exactly as one felt the room—the hundred like it or worse—in the street. Each time she turned in again, each time, in her impatience, she gave him up, it was to sound to a deeper depth, while she tasted the faint, flat emanation of things, the failure of fortune and of honour. If she continued to wait it was really, in a manner, that she might not add the shame of fear, of individual, personal collapse, to all the other shames. To feel the street, to feel the room, to feel the table-cloth and the centre-piece and the lamp, gave her a small, salutary sense, at least, of neither shirking nor lying. This whole vision was the worst thing yet—as including, in particular, the interview for which she had prepared herself; and for what had she come but for the worst? She tried to be sad, so as not to be angry; but it made her angry that she couldn't be sad. And yet where was misery, misery too beaten for blame and chalk-marked by fate like a "lot" at a common auction, if not in these merciless signs of mere mean, stale feelings?