　　世界文学名著表现了作者描述的特定时代的文化。阅读这些名著可以领略著者流畅的文笔、逼真的描述、详细的刻画，让读者如同置身当时的历史文化之中。为此，我们将这套精心编辑的“名著典藏”奉献给广大读者。
　　我们找来了专门研究西方历史、西方文化的专家学者，请教了专业的翻译人员，精心挑选了这些可以代表西方文学的著作，并听取了一些国外专门研究文学的朋友的建议，不删节、不做任何人为改动，严格按照原著的风格，提供原汁原味的西方名著，让读者能享受纯正的英文名著。
　　随着阅读的展开，你会发现自己的英语水平无形中有了大幅提高，并且对西方历史文化的了解也日益深入广阔。
　　送您一套经典，让您受益永远！

内容简介

　　《消失的地平线（英文全本）》主要讲的是20世纪30年代，四名西方人闯入了神秘的中国藏区，经历了一系列不可思议的事件。这里有神圣的雪山，幽深的峡谷，飞舞的瀑布，被森林环绕的宁静的湖泊，徜徉在美丽草原上的成群的牛羊，净如明镜的天空，金碧辉煌的庙宇，这些都有着让人窒息的美丽。纯洁、好客的人们热情欢迎着远道而来的客人。这里是宗教的圣土，人间的天堂。在这里，太阳和月亮就停泊在你心中。这就是传说中的“香格里拉”，最终造就了西方乃至世界的“世外桃源”。本书为小说英文全本，让读者领略小说魅力的同时提高英语阅读能力。

作者简介

詹姆斯·希尔顿（James Hilton，1900-1954），英国著名畅销书作家。 1900年9月9日生于英格兰，青年时代曾就读于剑桥大学，1933年，伦敦麦克米伦出版社出版了其长篇小说《失去的地平线》，同他还出版了另一部长篇小说《没有甲胄的武士》。第二年，希尔顿花四天时间创作出了其代表作《再见，奇普斯先生》。詹姆斯·希尔顿是著名的词语“香格里拉”创始人。他从未到过遥远得如同处在缥缈天涯尽头的云南，但却成为与云南干系重大的近代洋人。

精彩书摘

Conway meanwhile was busying himself with a very practical task. He had collected every scrap of paper that they all had， and was composing messages in various native languages to be dropped to earth at intervals. It was a slender chance， in such sparsely populated country， but worth taking.
The fourth occupant， Miss Brinklow， sat tight-lipped and straight-backed， with few comments and no complaints. She was a small， rather leathery woman， with an air of having been compelled to attend a party at which there were goings-on that she could not wholly approve.
Conway had talked less than the two other men， for translating SOS messages into dialects was a mental exercise requiring concentration. He had， however， answered questions when asked， and had agreed， tentatively， with Malison's kidnapping theory.
He had also agreed， to some extent， with Barnard's strictures on the Air Force. "Though one can see， of course， how it may have happened. With the place in commotion as it was， one man in flying-kit would look very much like another. No one would think of doubting the bona fides of any man in the proper clothes who looked as if he knew his job. And this fellow must have known it - the signals， and so forth. Pretty obvious， too， that he knows how to fly... still， I agree with you that it's the sort of thing that someone ought to get into hot water about. And somebody will， you may be sure， though I suspect he won't deserve it."
"Well， sir，" responded Barnard， "I certainly do admire the way you manage to see both sides of the question. It's the right spirit to have， no doubt， even when you're being taken for a ride，"
Americans， Conway reflected， had the knack of being able to say patronizing things without being offensive. He smiled tolerantly， but did not continue the conversation. His tiredness was of a kind that no amount of possible peril could stave off.
Towards late afternoon; when Bamard and Mallinson， who had been arguing， appealed to him on some point， it appeared that he had fallen asleep.
"Dead beat，" Mallinson commented. "And I don't wonder at it， after these last few weeks."
"You're his friend?" queried Barnard.
"I've worked with him at the Consulate. I happen to know that he hasn't been in bed for the last four nights. As a matter of fact， we're damned lucky in having him with us in a tight corner like this. Apart from knowing the languages， he's got a sort of way with him in dealing with people. If anyone can get us out of the mess， he'll do it. He's pretty cool about most things."
"Well， let him have his sleep， then，" agreed Barnard.
Miss Brinklow made one of her rare remarks. "I think he looks like a very brave man，" she said.
Conway was far less certain that he was a very brave man. He bad closed his eyes in sheer physical fatigue， but without actually sleeping. He could hear and feel every movement of the plane， and he heard also， with mixed feelings， Malison's eulogy of himself. It was then that he had his doubts， recognizing a tight sensation in his stomach which was his own bodily reaction to a disquieting mental survey. He was not， as he knew well from experience， one of those persons who love danger for its own sake. There was an aspect of it which he sometimes enjoyed， an excitement， a purgative effect upon sluggish emotions， but he was far from fond of risking his life. Twelve years earlier he had grown to hate the perils of trench warfare in France， and had several times avoided death by declining to attempt valorous impossibilities. Even his D.S， O. had been won， not so much by physical courage， as by a certain hardly developed technique of endurance. And since the War， whenever there had been danger ahead， he had faced it with increasing lack of relish unless it promised extravagant dividends in thrills.
He still kept his eyes closed. He was touched， and a little dismayed， by what he had heard Mallinson say. It was his fate in life to have his equanimity always mistaken for pluck， whereas it was actually something much more dispassionate and much less virile. They were all in a damnably awkward situation， it seemed to him and so far from being full of bravery about it， he felt chiefly an enormous distaste for whatever trouble might be in store. There was Miss Brinklow， for instance. He foresaw that in certain circumstances he would have to act on the supposition that because she was a woman she mattered far more than the rest of them put together， and he shrank from a situation in which such disproportionate behavior might be unavoidable.
……