The Conscript: A Tale of War - Couverture souple

Dumas, Alexandre

 
9781179330617: The Conscript: A Tale of War

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Synopsis

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is turally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.

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The below data was compiled from various identification fields in the bibliographic record of this title. This data is provided as an additional tool in helping to ensure edition identification:
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<title> The Conscript: A Tale Of War

<author> Alexandre Dumas

<publisher> T. B. erson & brothers, 1863

<subjects> History; General; History / General

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Présentation de l'éditeur

The Two Cottages. ON the verge of the department of A isne, to the east of the little city of Villers Cotterets, lost in the edge of that magnificent forest which covers twenty square leagues, shaded by the most magnificent beeches and most robust oaks of all France, is the little village of Haramont, a perfect nest amid the moss and leaves, the principal street of which ascends by gentle declivity to the chateau des Fosses, in which the first years of my childhood were passed. As we advance in life, and in reality separate ourselves from the cradle and draw near to the tomb, invisible threads which attach man to the place of his birth become stronger and more tenacious. The reason is, that the heart, mind and intelligence, the whole being in fact, reacts on the spectre we call Time, which ever forces us forward with a stronger hand and more sensible impulse, as if our life were an inclined plane, and as if obedient to the laws of gravity it passed more rapidly towards the end, than at the beginning. Then man returns in sorrow, and cries and clinss to all that he weeps with ;and as every thing he sees has the same proclivity, borne by the same torrent, he feels that resistance is vain and desperate.
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