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LIBRARY OF THE

WORLD'S BEST LITERATURE

ANCIENT AND MODERN

CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER

EDITOR

HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
LUCIA GILBERT RUNKLE
GEORGE HENRY WARNER

ASSOCIATE EDITORS

Connoisseur Edition

VOL. III.

THE ADVISORY COUNCIL

* * * * *

CRAWFORD H. TOY, A.M., LL.D.,
Professor of Hebrew,
HARVARD UNIVERSITY, Cambridge, Mass.

THOMAS R. LOUNSBURY, LL.D., L.H.D.,
Professor of English in the Sheffield Scientific School of
YALE UNIVERSITY, New Haven, Conn.

WILLIAM M. SLOANE, PH.D., L.H.D.,
Professor of History and Political Science,
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, Princeton, N.J.

BRANDER MATTHEWS, A.M., LL.B.,
Professor of Literature,
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, New York City.

JAMES B. ANGELL, LL.D.,
President of the UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN, Ann Arbor, Mich.

WILLARD FISKE, A.M., PH.D.,
Late Professor of the Germanic and Scandinavian Languages
and Literatures, CORNELL UNIVERSITY, Ithaca, N.Y.

EDWARD S. HOLDEN, A.M., LL.D.,
Director of the Lick Observatory, and Astronomer,
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, Berkeley, Cal.

ALCEE FORTIER, LIT.D.,
Professor of the Romance Languages,
TULANE UNIVERSITY, New Orleans, La.

WILLIAM P. TRENT, M.A.,
Dean of the Department of Arts and Sciences, and Professor of
English and History, UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH, Sewanee, Tenn.

PAUL SHOREY, PH.D.,
Professor of Greek and Latin Literature,
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, Chicago, Ill.

WILLIAM T. HARRIS, LL.D.,
United States Commissioner of Education,
BUREAU OF EDUCATION, Washington, D.C.

MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN, A.M., LL.D.,
Professor of Literature in the
CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA, Washington, D.C.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

VOL. III

LIVED
BERTHOLD AUERBACH--_Continued:_ 1812-1882
The First False Step ('On the Heights')
The New Home and the Old One (same)
The Court Physician's Philosophy (same)
In Countess Irma's Diary (same)

EMILE AUGIER 1820-1889
A Conversation with a Purpose ('Giboyer's Boy')
A Severe Young Judge ('The Adventuress')
A Contented Idler ('M. Poirier's Son-in-Law')
Feelings of an Artist (same)
A Contest of Wills ('The Fourchambaults')

ST. AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO (by Samuel Hart) 354-430
The Godly Sorrow that Worketh Repentance ('The Confessions')
Consolation (same)
The Foes of the City ('The City of God')
The Praise of God (same)
A Prayer ('The Trinity')

MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS A.D. 121-180
Reflections

JANE AUSTEN 1775-1817
An Offer of Marriage ('Pride and Prejudice')
Mother and Daughter (same)
A Letter of Condolence (same)
A Well-Matched Sister and Brother ('Northanger Abbey')
Family Doctors ('Emma')
Family Training ('Mansfield Park')
Private Theatricals (same)
Fruitless Regrets and Apples of Sodom (same)

AVERROES 1126-1198

THE AVESTA (by A.V. Williams Jackson)
Psalm of Zoroaster
Prayer for Knowledge
The Angel of Divine Obedience
To the Fire
The Goddess of the Waters
Guardian Spirits
An Ancient Sindbad
The Wise Man
Invocation to Rain
Prayer for Healing
Fragment

AVICEBRON 1028-?1058
On Matter and Form ('The Fountain of Life')

ROBERT AYTOUN 1570-1638
Inconstancy Upbraided
Lines to an Inconstant Mistress (with Burns's Adaptation)

WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN 1813-1865
Burial March of Dundee ('Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers')
Execution of Montrose (same)
The Broken Pitcher ('Bon Gaultier Ballads')
Sonnet to Britain. "By the Duke of Wellington" (same)
A Ball in the Upper Circles ('The Modern Endymion')
A Highland Tramp ('Norman Sinclair')

MASSIMO TAPARELLI D'AZEGLIO 1798-1866
A Happy Childhood ('My Recollections')
The Priesthood (same)
My First Venture in Romance (same)

BABER (by Edward S. Holden) 1482-1530
From Baber's 'Memoirs'

BABRIUS First Century A.D.
The North Wind and the Sun
Jupiter and the Monkey
The Mouse that Fell into the Pot
The Fox and the Grapes
The Carter and Hercules
The Young Cocks
The Arab and the Camel
The Nightingale and the Swallow
The Husbandman and the stork
The Pine
The Woman and Her Maid-Servants
The Lamp
The Tortoise and the Hare

FRANCIS BACON (by Charlton T. Lewis) 1561-1626
Of Truth ('Essays')
Of Revenge (same)
Of Simulation and Dissimulation (same)
Of Travel (same)
Of Friendship (same)
Defects of the Universities ('The Advancement of Learning')
To My Lord Treasurer Burghley
In Praise of Knowledge
To the Lord Chancellor
To Villiers on his Patent as a Viscount
Charge to Justice Hutton
A Prayer, or Psalm
From the 'Apophthegms'
Translation of the 137th Psalm
The World's a Bubble

WALTER BAGEHOT (by Forrest Morgan) 1826-1877
The Virtues of Stupidity ('Letters on the French Coup
d'Etat')
Review Writing ('The First Edinburgh Reviewers')
Lord Eldon (same)
Taste ('Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Browning')
Causes of the Sterility of Literature ('Shakespeare')
The Search for Happiness ('William Cowper')
On Early Reading ('Edward Gibbon')
The Cavaliers ('Thomas Babington Macaulay')
Morality and Fear ('Bishop Butler')
The Tyranny of Convention ('Sir Robert Peel')
How to Be an Influential Politician ('Bolingbroke')
Conditions of Cabinet Government ('The English Constitution')
Why Early Societies could not be Free ('Physics and
Politics')
Benefits of Free Discussion in Modern Times (same)
Origin of Deposit Banking ('Lombard Street')

JENS BAGGESEN 1764-1826
A Cosmopolitan ('The Labyrinth')
Philosophy on the Heath (same)
There was a Time when I was Very Little

PHILIP JAMES BAILEY 1816-
From "Festus": Life: The Passing-Bell; Thoughts;
Dreams; Chorus of the Saved

JOANNA BAILLIE 1762-1851
Woo'd and Married and A'
It Was on a Morn when We were Thrang
Fy, Let Us A' to the Wedding
The Weary Pund o' Tow
From 'De Montfort'
To Mrs. Siddons
A Scotch Song
Song, 'Poverty Parts Good Company'
The Kitten

HENRY MARTYN BAIRD 1832-
The Battle of Ivry ('The Huguenots and Henry of Navarre')

SIR SAMUEL WHITE BAKER 1821-1893
Hunting in Abyssinia ('The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia')
The Sources of the Nile ('The Albert Nyanza')

ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR 1848-
The Pleasures of Reading (Rectorial Address)

THE BALLAD (by F.B. Gummere)
Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne
The Hunting of the Cheviot
Johnie Cock
Sir Patrick Spens
The Bonny Earl of Murray
Mary Hamilton
Bonnie George Campbell
Bessie Bell and Mary Gray
The Three Ravens
Lord Randal
Edward
The Twa Brothers
Babylon
Childe Maurice
The Wife of Usher's Well
Sweet William's Ghost

HONORE DE BALZAC (by William P. Trent) 1799-1850
The Meeting in the Convent ('The Duchess of Langeais')
An Episode Under the Terror
A Passion in the Desert
The Napoleon of the People ('The Country Doctor')

GEORGE BANCROFT (by Austin Scott) 1800-1891
The Beginnings of Virginia ('History of the United
States')
Men and Government in Early Massachusetts (same)
King Philip's War (same)
The New Netherland (same)
Franklin (same)

FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS

VOLUME III.

* * * * *

PAGE
Ancient Irish Miniature (Colored Plate) Frontispiece
"St. Augustine and His Mother" (Photogravure) 1014
Papyrus, Sermons of St. Augustine (Fac-simile) 1018
Marcus Aurelius (Portrait) 1022
The Zend Avesta (Fac-simile) 1084
Francis Bacon (Portrait) 1156
"The Cavaliers" (Photogravure) 1218
Honore de Balzac (Portrait) 1348
George Bancroft (Portrait) 1432

VIGNETTE PORTRAITS

Emile Augier
Jane Austen
Robert Aytoun
Walter Bagehot
Jens Baggesen
Philip James Bailey
Joanna Baillie
Henry Martyn Baird
Sir Samuel White Baker
Arthur James Balfour

(Continued from Volume II)

"Do you imagine that every one is kindly disposed towards you? Take my
word for it, a palace contains people of all sorts, good and bad. All
the vices abound in such a place. And there are many other matters of
which you have no idea, and of which you will, I trust, ever remain
ignorant. But all you meet are wondrous polite. Try to remain just as
you now are, and when you leave the palace, let it be as the same
Walpurga you were when you came here."

Walpurga stared at her in surprise. Who could change her?

Word came that the Queen was awake and desired Walpurga to bring the
Crown Prince to her.

Accompanied by Doctor Gunther, Mademoiselle Kramer, and two
waiting-women, she proceeded to the Queen's bedchamber. The Queen lay
there, calm and beautiful, and with a smile of greeting, turned her face
towards those who had entered. The curtains had been partially drawn
aside, and a broad, slanting ray of light shone into the apartment,
which seemed still more peaceful than during the breathless silence of
the previous night.

"Good morning!" said the Queen, with a voice full of feeling. "Let me
have my child!" She looked down at the babe that rested in her arms, and
then, without noticing any one in the room, lifted her glance on high
and faintly murmured:--

"This is the first time I behold my child in the daylight!"

All were silent; it seemed as if there was naught in the apartment
except the broad slanting ray of light that streamed in at the window.

"Have you slept well?" inquired the Queen. Walpurga was glad the Queen
had asked a question, for now she could answer. Casting a hurried glance
at Mademoiselle Kramer, she said:--

"Yes, indeed! Sleep's the first, the last, and the best thing in the
world."

"She's clever," said the Queen, addressing Doctor Gunther in French.

Walpurga's heart sank within her. Whenever she heard them speak French,
she felt as if they were betraying her; as if they had put on an
invisible cap, like that worn by the goblins in the fairy-tale, and
could thus speak without being heard.

"Did the Prince sleep well?" asked the Queen.

Walpurga passed her hand over her face, as if to brush away a spider
that had been creeping there. The Queen doesn't speak of her "child" or
her "son," but only of "the Crown Prince."

Walpurga answered:--

"Yes, quite well, thank God! That is, I couldn't hear him, and I only
wanted to say that I'd like to act towards the--" she could not say "the
Prince"--"that is, towards him, as I'd do with my own child. We began on
the very first day. My mother taught me that. Such a child has a will of
its own from the very start, and it won't do to give way to it. It won't
do to take it from the cradle, or to feed it, whenever it pleases; there
ought to be regular times for all those things. It'll soon get used to
that, and it won't harm it either, to let it cry once in a while. On the
contrary, that expands the chest."

"Does he cry?" asked the Queen.

The infant answered the question for itself, for it at once began to cry
most lustily.

"Take him and quiet him," begged the Queen.

The King entered the apartment before the child had stopped crying.

"He will have a good voice of command," said he, kissing the Queen's
hand.

Walpurga quieted the child, and she and Mademoiselle Kramer were sent
back to their apartments.

The King informed the Queen of the dispatches that had been received,
and of the sponsors who had been decided upon. She was perfectly
satisfied with the arrangements that had been made.

When Walpurga had returned to her room and had placed the child in the
cradle, she walked up and down and seemed quite agitated.

"There are no angels in this world!" said she. "They're all just like
the rest of us, and who knows but--" She was vexed at the Queen: "Why
won't she listen patiently when her child cries? We must take all our
children bring us, whether it be joy or pain."

She stepped out into the passage-way and heard the tones of the organ in
the palace-chapel. For the first time in her life these sounds
displeased her. "It don't belong in the house," thought she, "where all
sorts of things are going on. The church ought to stand by itself."

When she returned to the room, she found a stranger there. Mademoiselle
Kramer informed her that this was the tailor to the Queen.

Walpurga laughed outright at the notion of a "tailor to the Queen." The
elegantly attired person looked at her in amazement, while Mademoiselle
Kramer explained to her that this was the dressmaker to her Majesty the
Queen, and that he had come to take her measure for three new dresses.

"Am I to wear city clothes?"

"God forbid! You're to wear the dress of your neighborhood, and can
order a stomacher in red, blue, green, or any color that you like best."

"I hardly know what to say; but I'd like to have a workday suit too.
Sunday clothes on week-days--that won't do."

"At court one always wears Sunday clothes, and when her Majesty drives
out again you will have to accompany her."

"A11 right, then. I won't object."

While he took her measure, Walpurga laughed incessantly, and he was at
last obliged to ask her to hold still, so that he might go on with his
work. Putting his measure into his pocket, he informed Mademoiselle
Kramer that he had ordered an exact model, and that the master of
ceremonies had favored him with several drawings, so that there might be
no doubt of success.

Finally he asked permission to see the Crown Prince. Mademoiselle Kramer
was about to let him do so, but Walpurga objected.

"Before the child is christened," said she, "no one shall look at it
just out of curiosity, and least of all a tailor, or else the child will
never turn out the right sort of man."

The tailor took his leave, Mademoiselle Kramer having politely hinted to
him that nothing could be done with the superstition of the lower
orders, and that it would not do to irritate the nurse.

This occurrence induced Walpurga to administer the first serious
reprimand to Mademoiselle Kramer. She could not understand why she was
so willing to make an exhibition of the child. "Nothing does a child
more harm than to let strangers look at it in its sleep, and a tailor
at that."

All the wild fun with which, in popular songs, tailors are held up to
scorn and ridicule, found vent in Walpurga, and she began singing:--

"Just list, ye braves, who love to roam!
A snail was chasing a tailor home.
And if Old Shears hadn't run so fast,
The snail would surely have caught him at last."

Mademoiselle Kramer's acquaintance with the court tailor had lowered
her in Walpurga's esteem; and with an evident effort to mollify the
latter, Mademoiselle Kramer asked:--

"Does the idea of your new and beautiful clothes really afford you no
pleasure?"

"To be frank with you, no! I don't wear them for my own sake, but for
that of others, who dress me to please themselves. It's all the same to
me, however! I've given myself up to them, and suppose I must submit."

"May I come in?" asked a pleasant voice. Countess Irma entered the room.
Extending both her hands to Walpurga, she said:--

"God greet you, my countrywoman! I am also from the Highlands, seven
hours distance from your village. I know it well, and once sailed over
the lake with your father. Does he still live?"

"Alas! no: he was drowned, and the lake hasn't given up its dead."

"He was a fine-looking old man, and you are the very image of him."

"I am glad to find some one else here who knew my father. The court
tailor--I mean the court doctor--knew him too. Yes, search the land
through, you couldn't have found a better man than my father, and no one
can help but admit it."

"Yes: I've often heard as much."

"May I ask your Ladyship's name?"

"Countess Wildenort."

"Wildenort? I've heard the name before. Yes, I remember my mother's
mentioning it. Your father was known as a very kind and benevolent man.
Has he been dead a long while?"

"No, he is still living."

"Is he here too?"

"No."

"And as what are you here, Countess?"

"As maid of honor."

"And what is that?"

"Being attached to the Queen's person; or what, in your part of the
country, would be called a companion."

"Indeed! And is your father willing to let them use you that way?"

Irma, who was somewhat annoyed by her questions, said:--

"I wished to ask you something--Can you write?"

"I once could, but I've quite forgotten how."

"Then I've just hit it! that's the very reason for my coming here. Now,
whenever you wish to write home, you can dictate your letter to me, and
I will write whatever you tell me to."

"I could have done that too," suggested Mademoiselle Kramer, timidly;
"and your Ladyship would not have needed to trouble yourself."

"No, the Countess will write for me. Shall it be now?"

"Certainly."

But Walpurga had to go to the child. While she was in the next room,
Countess Irma and Mademoiselle Kramer engaged each other in
conversation.

When Walpurga returned, she found Irma, pen in hand, and at once began
to dictate.

Translation of S.A. Stern.

THE FIRST FALSE STEP

From 'On the Heights'

The ball was to be given in the palace and the adjoining winter garden.
The intendant now informed Irma of his plan, and was delighted to find
that she approved of it. At the end of the garden he intended to erect a
large fountain, ornamented with antique groups. In the foreground he
meant to have trees and shrubbery and various kinds of rocks, so that
none could approach too closely; and the background was to be a Grecian
landscape, painted in the grand style.

Irma promised to keep his secret. Suddenly she exclaimed, "We are all of
us no better than lackeys and kitchen-maids. We are kept busy stewing,
roasting, and cooking for weeks, in order to prepare a dish that may
please their Majesties."

The intendant made no reply.

"Do you remember," continued Irma, "how, when we were at the lake, we
spoke of the fact that man possessed the advantage of being able to
change his dress, and thus to alter his appearance? While yet a child,
masquerading was my greatest delight. The soul wings its flight in
callow infancy. A _bal costume_ is indeed one of the noblest fruits of
culture. The love of coquetry which is innate with all of us displays
itself there undisguised."

The intendant took his leave. While walking away, his mind was filled
with his old thoughts about Irma.

"No," said he to himself, "such a woman would be a constant strain, and
would require one to be brilliant and intellectual all day long. She
would exhaust one," said he, almost aloud.

No one knew what character Irma intended to appear in, although many
supposed that it would be as "Victory," since it was well known that she
had stood for the model of the statue that surmounted the arsenal. They
were busy conjecturing how she could assume that character without
violating the social proprieties.

Irma spent much of her time in the atelier, and worked assiduously. She
was unable to escape a feeling of unrest, far greater than that she had
experienced years ago when looking forward to her first ball. She could
not reconcile herself to the idea of preparing for the _fete_ so long
beforehand, and would like to have had it take place in the very next
hour, so that something else might be taken up at once. The long delay
tried her patience. She almost envied those beings to whom the
preparation for pleasure affords the greatest part of the enjoyment.
Work alone calmed her unrest. She had something to do, and this
prevented the thoughts of the festival from engaging her mind during the
day. It was only in the evening that she would recompense herself for
the day's work, by giving full swing to her fancy.

The statue of Victory was still in the atelier and was almost finished.
High ladders were placed beside it. The artist was still chiseling at
the figure, and would now and then hurry down to observe the general
effect, and then hastily mount the ladder again in order to add a touch
here or there. Irma scarcely ventured to look up at this effigy of
herself in Grecian costume--transformed and yet herself. The idea of
being thus translated into the purest of art's forms filled her with a
tremor, half joy, half fear.

It was on a winter afternoon. Irma was working assiduously at a copy of
a bust of Theseus, for it was growing dark. Near her stood her
preceptor's marble bust of Doctor Gunther. All was silent; not a sound
was heard save now and then the picking or scratching of the chisel.

At that moment the master descended the ladder, and drawing a deep
breath, said:--

"There--that will do. One can never finish. I shall not put another
stroke to it. I am afraid that retouching would only injure it. It
is done."

In the master's words and manner, struggling effort and calm content
seemed mingled. He laid the chisel aside. Irma looked at him earnestly
and said:--

"You are a happy man; but I can imagine that you are still unsatisfied.
I don't believe that even Raphael or Michael Angelo was ever satisfied
with the work he had completed. The remnant of dissatisfaction which an
artist feels at the completion of a work is the germ of a new creation."

The master nodded his approval of her words. His eyes expressed his
thanks. He went to the water-tap and washed his hands. Then he placed
himself near Irma and looked at her, while telling her that in every
work an artist parts with a portion of his life; that the figure will
never again inspire the same feelings that it did while in the workshop.
Viewed from afar, and serving as an ornament, no regard would be had to
the care bestowed upon details. But the artist's great satisfaction in
his work is in having pleased himself; and yet no one can accurately
determine how, or to what extent, a conscientious working up of details
will influence the general effect.

While the master was speaking, the King was announced. Irma hurriedly
spread a damp cloth over her clay model.

The King entered. He was unattended, and begged Irma not to allow
herself to be disturbed in her work. Without looking up, she went on
with her modeling. The King was earnest in his praise of the
master's work.

"The grandeur that dwells in this figure will show posterity what our
days have beheld. I am proud of such contemporaries."

Irma felt that the words applied to her as well. Her heart throbbed. The
plaster which stood before her suddenly seemed to gaze at her with a
strange expression.

"I should like to compare the finished work with the first models," said
the king to the artist.

"I regret that the experimental models are in my small atelier. Does
your Majesty wish me to have them brought here?"

"If you will be good enough to do so."

The master left. The King and Irma were alone. With rapid steps the King
mounted the ladder, and exclaimed in a tremulous voice:--

"I ascend into heaven--I ascend to you. Irma, I kiss you, I kiss your
image, and may this kiss forever rest upon those lips, enduring beyond
all time. I kiss thee with the kiss of eternity." He stood aloft and
kissed the lips of the statue. Irma could not help looking up, and just
at that moment a slanting sunbeam fell on the King and on the face of
the marble figure, making it glow as if with life.

Irma felt as if wrapped in a fiery cloud, bearing her away into
eternity.

The King descended and placed himself beside her. His breathing was
short and quick. She did not dare to look up; she stood as silent and as
immovable as a statue. Then the King embraced her--and living lips
kissed each other.

Translation of S.A. Stern.

THE NEW HOME AND THE OLD ONE

From 'On the Heights'

Hansei received various offers for his cottage, and was always provoked
when it was spoken of as a 'tumble-down old shanty.' He always looked as
if he meant to say, "Don't take it ill of me, good old house: the people
only abuse you so that they may get you cheap." Hansei stood his ground.
He would not sell his home for a penny less than it was worth; and
besides that, he owned the fishing-right, which was also worth
something. Grubersepp at last took the house off his hands, with the
design of putting a servant of his, who intended to marry in the fall,
in possession of the place.

All the villagers were kind and friendly to them,--doubly so since they
were about to leave,--and Hansei said:--