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.

ALCÉE 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. II.

HENRI FRÉDÉRIC AMIEL—Continued — 1821-1881

Self-interest

Wagner's Music

Secret of Remaining Young

Results of Equality

View-Points of History

Introspection and Schopenhauer

Music and the Imagination

Love and the Sexes

Fundamentals of Religion

Dangers from Decay of Earnestness

Woman's ideal the Community's Fate

French Self-Consciousness

Frivolous Art

Critical Ideals

The Best Art

The True Critic

Spring—Universal Religion

Introspective Meditations

Destiny (just before death)

ANACREON — B.C. 562?-477

Drinking

Age

The Epicure

Gold

The Grasshopper

The Swallow

The Poet's Choice

Drinking

A Lover's Sigh

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (by Benjamin W. Wells) — 1805-1875

The Steadfast Tin Soldier

The Teapot

The Ugly Duckling

What the Moon Saw

The Lovers

The Snow Queen

The Nightingale

The Market Place ('The Story of My Life')

Andersen Jubilee at Odense ('The Story of My Life')

'Miserere' in the Sixtine Chapel ('The Improvisatore')

ANEURIN — Sixth Century

The Slaying of Owain

The Fate of Hoel, Son of the Great Cian

The Giant Gwrveling Falls at Last

ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE (by Robert Sharp)

From 'Beowulf'

Deor's Lament

From 'The Wanderer'

The Seafarer

The Fortunes of Men

From 'Judith'

The Fight at Maldon

Cædmon's Inspiration

From the 'Chronicle'

GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO — 1864-

The Drowned Boy ('The Triumph of Death')

To an Impromptu of Chopin (same)

India

ANTAR (by Edward S. Holden) — About 550-615

The Valor of Antar

LUCIUS APULEIUS — Second Century

The Tale of Aristomenes, the Commercial Traveler ('The Metamorphoses')

The Awakening of Cupid (same)

THOMAS AQUINAS (by Edwin A. Pace) — 1226-1274

On the Value of Our Concepts of the Deity ('Summa Theologica')

How Can the Absolute Be a Cause? ('Quæstiones Disputatæ')

On the Production of Living Things (same)

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS (by Richard Gottheil)

From 'The Story of the City of Brass' (Lane's Translation)

From 'The History of King Omar Ben Ennuman, and His Sons Sherkan and Zoulmekan' (Payne's Translation)

From 'Sindbad the Seaman and Sindbad the Landsman' (Burton's Translation)

Conclusion of 'The Thousand Nights and a Night' (Burton's Translation)

ARABIC LITERATURE (by Richard Gottheil)

Imr-al-Kais: Description of a Mountain Storm

Zuhéir: Lament for the Destruction of his Former Home

Tarafah ibn al-'Abd: Rebuke to a Mischief-Maker

Labîd: Lament for the Afflictions of his Tribe

Antar: A Fair Lady

Duraid, son of as-Simmah: The Death of 'Abdallâh

Ash-Shanfarà of Azd: A Picture of Womanhood

'Umar ibn Rabí'a: Zeynab at the Ka'bah

'Umar ibn Rabí'a: The Unveiled Maid

Al-Nâbighah: Eulogy of the Men of Ghassân

Nusaib: The Slave-Mother Sold

Al-Find: Vengeance

Ibrahim, Son of Kunaif: Patience

Abu Sakhr: A Lost Love

Abu l'Ata of Sind: An Address to the Beloved

Ja'far ibn 'Ulbah: A Foray

Katari ibn al-Fujâ'ah: Fatality

Al-Fadi ibn al-Abbas: Implacability

Hittân ibn al-Mu'allà: Parental Affection

Sa'd, son of Malik: A Tribesman's Valor

From Sale's Koran:—Chapter xxxv.: "The Creator";

Chapter lv.: "The Merciful";

Chapter lxxxiv.: "The Rending in Sunder"

Al-Hariri: His Prayer

Al-Hariri: The Words of Hareth ibn Hammam

The Caliph Omar Bin Abd Al-Aziz and the Poets (From 'Supplemental Nights': Burton's Translation)

DOMINIQUE FRANÇOIS ARAGO (by Edward S. Holden) — 1786-1853

Laplace

JOHN ARBUTHNOT — 1667-1735

The True Characters of John Bull, Nic. Frog, and Hocus ('The History of John Bull')

Reconciliation of John and his Sister Peg (same)

Of the Rudiments of Martin's Learning ('Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus')

THE ARGONAUTIC LEGEND

The Victory of Orpheus ('The Life and Death of Jason')

LUDOVICO ARIOSTO (by L. Oscar Kuhns) — 1474-1533

The Friendship of Medoro and Cloridane ('Orlando Furioso')

The Saving of Medoro (same)

The Madness of Orlando (same)

ARISTOPHANES (by Paul Shorey) — B.C. 448-390?

Origin of the Peloponnesian War ('The Acharnians')

The Poet's Apology (same)

Appeal of the Chorus ('The Knights')

Cloud Chorus ('The Clouds')

A Rainy Day on the Farm ('The Peace')

The Harvest (same)

Grand Chorus of Birds ('The Birds')

Call to the Nightingale (same)

The Building of Cloud-Cuckoo-Town (same)

Chorus of Women ('Thesmophoriazusæ')

Chorus of Mystæ in Hades ('The Frogs')

A Parody of Euripides' Lyric Verse ('The Frogs')

The Prologues of Euripides (same)

ARISTOTLE (by Thomas Davidson) — B.C. 384-322

Nature of the Soul ('On the Soul')

On the Difference between History and Poetry ('Poetics')

On Philosophy (Cicero's 'Nature of the Gods')

On Essences ('Metaphysics')

On Community of Studies ('Politics')

Hymn to Virtue

JÓN ARNASON — 1819-1888

From 'Icelandic Legends':

The Merman

The Fisherman of Götur

The Magic Scythe

The Man-Servant and the Water-Elves

The Crossways

ERNST MORITZ ARNDT — 1769-1860

What is the German's Fatherland?

The Song of the Field-Marshal

Patriotic Song

EDWIN ARNOLD — 1832-

Youth of Buddha ('The Light of Asia')

The Pure Sacrifice of Buddha (same)

Faithfulness of Yudhisthira ('The Great Journey')

He and She

After Death ('Pearls of the Faith')

Solomon and the Ant (same)

The Afternoon (same)

The Trumpet (same)

Envoi to 'The Light of Asia'

Grishma; or the Season of Heat (Translated from Kalidasa)

MATTHEW ARNOLD (by George Edward Woodberry) — 1822-1888

Intelligence and Genius ('Essays in Criticism')

Sweetness and Light ('Culture and Anarchy')

Oxford ('Essays in Criticism')

To A Friend

Youth and Calm

Isolation—To Marguerite

Stanzas in Memory of the Author of 'Obermann' (1849)

Memorial Verses (1850)

The Sick King in Bokhara

Dover Beach

Self-Dependence

Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse

A Summer Night

The Better Part

The Last Word

THE ARTHURIAN LEGENDS (by Richard Jones)

From Geoffrey of Monmouth's 'Historia Britonum'

The Holy Grail (Malory's 'Morte d'Arthur')

PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN — 1812-1885

Gudbrand of the Mountain-Side

The Widow's Son

ROGER ASCHAM — 1515-1568

On Gentleness in Education ('The Schoolmaster')

On Study and Exercise ('Toxophilus')

ATHENÆUS — Third Century B.C.

Why the Nile Overflows ('Deipnosophistæ')

How to Preserve the Health (same)

An Account of Some Great Eaters (same)

The Love of Animals for Man (same)

PER DANIEL AMADEUS ATTERBOM — 1790-1855

The Genius of the North

The Lily of the Valley

Svanhvit's Colloquy ('The Islands of the Blest')

The Mermaid

AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE (by Frederick Morris Warren) — Twelfth Century

'Tis of Aucassin and Nicolette

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON — 1780-1851

A Dangerous Adventure ('The American Ornithological Biography')

BERTHOLD AUERBACH — 1812-1882

The First Mass ('Ivo the Gentleman')

The Peasant-Nurse and the Prince ('On the Heights')

VOLUME II.

VIGNETTE PORTRAITS

HENRI FRÉDÉRIC AMIEL—(Continued from Volume I)

to the storms of air and sea; and while the soul of Mozart seems to dwell on the ethereal peaks of Olympus, that of Beethoven climbs shuddering the storm-beaten sides of a Sinai. Blessed be they both! Each represents a moment of the ideal life, each does us good. Our love is due to both.

Self-interest is but the survival of the animal in us. Humanity only begins for man with self-surrender.

MAY 27TH, 1857.—Wagner's is a powerful mind endowed with strong poetical sensitiveness. His work is even more poetical than musical. The suppression of the lyrical element, and therefore of melody, is with him a systematic parti pris. No more duos or trios; monologue and the aria are alike done away with. There remains only declamation, the recitative, and the choruses. In order to avoid the conventional in singing, Wagner falls into another convention,—that of not singing at all. He subordinates the voice to articulate speech, and for fear lest the muse should take flight he clips her wings; so that his works are rather symphonic dramas than operas. The voice is brought down to the rank of an instrument, put on a level with the violins, the hautboys, and the drums, and treated instrumentally. Man is deposed from his superior position, and the centre of gravity of the work passes into the baton of the conductor. It is music depersonalized,—neo-Hegelian music,—music multiple instead of individual. If this is so, it is indeed the music of the

future,—the music of the socialist democracy replacing the art which is aristocratic, heroic, or subjective.

DECEMBER 4TH, 1863.—The whole secret of remaining young in spite of years, and even of gray hairs, is to cherish enthusiasm in one's self, by poetry, by contemplation, by charity,—that is, in fewer words, by the maintenance of harmony in the soul.

APRIL 12TH, 1858.—The era of equality means the triumph of mediocrity. It is disappointing, but inevitable; for it is one of time's revenges.... Art no doubt will lose, but justice will gain. Is not universal leveling down the law of nature?... The world is striving with all its force for the destruction of what it has itself brought forth!

MARCH 1ST, 1869.—From the point of view of the ideal, humanity is triste and ugly. But if we compare it with its probable origins, we see that the human race has not altogether wasted its time. Hence there are three possible views of history: the view of the pessimist, who starts from the ideal; the view of the optimist, who compares the past with the present; and the view of the hero-worshiper, who sees that all progress whatever has cost oceans of blood and tears.

AUGUST 31ST, 1869.—I have finished Schopenhauer. My mind has been a tumult of opposing systems,—Stoicism, Quietism, Buddhism, Christianity. Shall I never be at peace with myself? If impersonality is a good, why am I not consistent in the pursuit of it? and if it is a temptation, why return to it, after having judged and conquered it?

Is happiness anything more than a conventional fiction? The deepest reason for my state of doubt is that the supreme end and aim of life seems to me a mere lure and deception. The individual is an eternal dupe, who never obtains what he seeks, and who is forever deceived by hope. My instinct is in harmony with the pessimism of Buddha and of Schopenhauer. It is a doubt which never leaves me, even in my moments of religious fervor. Nature is indeed for me a Maïa; and I look at her, as it were, with the eyes of an artist. My intelligence remains skeptical. What, then, do I believe in? I do not know. And what is it I hope for? It would be difficult to say. Folly! I believe in goodness, and I hope that good will prevail. Deep within this ironical and disappointed being of mine there is a child hidden—a frank, sad, simple creature, who believes in the ideal, in love, in holiness, and all heavenly superstitions. A whole millennium of idyls sleeps in my heart; I am a pseudo-skeptic, a pseudo-scoffer.

MARCH 17TH, 1870.—This morning the music of a brass band which had stopped under my windows moved me almost to tears. It exercised an indefinable, nostalgic power over me; it set me dreaming of another world, of infinite passion and supreme happiness. Such impressions are the echoes of Paradise in the soul; memories of ideal spheres whose sad sweetness ravishes and intoxicates the heart. O Plato! O Pythagoras! ages ago you heard these harmonies, surprised these moments of inward ecstasy,—knew these divine transports! If music thus carries us to heaven, it is because music is harmony, harmony is perfection, perfection is our dream, and our dream is heaven.

APRIL 1ST, 1870.—I am inclined to believe that for a woman love is the supreme authority,—that which judges the rest and decides what is good or evil. For a man, love is subordinate to right. It is a great passion, but it is not the source of order, the synonym of reason, the criterion of excellence. It would seem, then, that a woman places her ideal in the perfection of love, and a man in the perfection of justice.

JUNE 5TH, 1870.—The efficacy of religion lies precisely in that which is not rational, philosophic, nor eternal; its efficacy lies in the unforeseen, the miraculous, the extraordinary. Thus religion attracts more devotion in proportion as it demands more faith,—that is to say, as it becomes more incredible to the profane mind. The philosopher aspires to explain away all mysteries, to dissolve them into light. It is mystery, on the other hand, which the religious instinct demands and pursues: it is mystery which constitutes the essence of worship, the power of proselytism. When the cross became the "foolishness" of the cross, it took possession of the masses. And in our own day, those who wish to get rid of the supernatural, to enlighten religion, to economize faith, find themselves deserted, like poets who should declaim against poetry, or women who should decry love. Faith consists in the acceptance of the incomprehensible, and even in the pursuit of the impossible, and is self-intoxicated with its own sacrifices, its own repeated extravagances.

It is the forgetfulness of this psychological law which stultifies the so-called liberal Christianity. It is the realization of it which constitutes the strength of Catholicism.

Apparently, no positive religion can survive the supernatural element which is the reason for its existence. Natural religion seems to be the tomb of all historic cults. All concrete religions die eventually in the pure air of philosophy. So long then as the life of nations is in need of religion as a motive and sanction of morality, as food for faith, hope, and charity, so long will the masses turn away from pure reason and naked truth, so long will they adore mystery, so long—and rightly so—will they rest in faith, the only region where the ideal presents itself to them in an attractive form.

OCTOBER 26TH, 1870.—If ignorance and passion are the foes of popular morality, it must be confessed that moral indifference is the malady of the cultivated classes. The modern separation of enlightenment and virtue, of thought and conscience, of the intellectual aristocracy from the honest and vulgar crowd, is the greatest danger that can threaten liberty. When any society produces an increasing number of literary exquisites, of satirists, skeptics, and beaux esprits, some chemical disorganization of fabric may be inferred. Take, for example, the century of Augustus and that of Louis XV. Our cynics and railers are mere egotists, who stand aloof from the common duty, and in their indolent remoteness are of no service to society against any ill which may attack it. Their cultivation consists in having got rid of feeling. And thus they fall farther and farther away from true humanity, and approach nearer to the demoniacal nature. What was it that Mephistopheles lacked? Not intelligence, certainly, but goodness.

DECEMBER 11TH, 1875.—The ideal which the wife and mother makes for herself, the manner in which she understands duty and life, contain the fate of the community. Her faith becomes the star of the conjugal ship, and her love the animating principle that fashions the future of all belonging to her. Woman is the salvation or destruction of the family. She carries its destinies in the folds of her mantle.

JANUARY 22D, 1875.—The thirst for truth is not a French passion. In everything appearance is preferred to reality, the outside to the inside, the fashion to the material, that which shines to that which profits, opinion to conscience. That is to say, the Frenchman's centre of gravity is always outside him,—he is always thinking of others, playing to the gallery. To him individuals are so many zeros: the unit which turns them into a number must be added from outside; it may be royalty, the writer of the day, the favorite newspaper, or any other temporary master of fashion.—All this is probably the result of an exaggerated sociability, which weakens the soul's forces of resistance, destroys its capacity for investigation and personal conviction, and kills in it the worship of the ideal.

DECEMBER 9TH, 1877.—The modern haunters of Parnassus carve urns of agate and of onyx; but inside the urns what is there?—Ashes. Their work lacks feeling, seriousness, sincerity, and pathos—in a word, soul and moral life. I cannot bring myself to sympathize with such a way of understanding poetry. The talent shown is astonishing, but stuff and matter are wanting. It is an effort of the imagination to stand alone—substitute for everything else. We find metaphors, rhymes, music, color, but not man, not humanity. Poetry of this factitious kind may beguile one at twenty, but what can one make of it at fifty? It reminds me of Pergamos, of Alexandria, of all the epochs of decadence when beauty of form hid poverty of thought and exhaustion of feeling. I strongly share the repugnance which this poetical school arouses in simple people. It is as though it only cared to please the world-worn, the over-subtle, the corrupted, while it ignores all normal healthy life, virtuous habits, pure affections, steady labor, honesty, and duty. It is an affectation, and because it is an affectation the

school is struck with sterility. The reader desires in the poem something better than a juggler in rhyme, or a conjurer in verse; he looks 'to find in him a painter of life, a being who thinks, loves, and has a conscience, who feels passion and repentance.

The true critic strives for a clear vision of things as they are—for justice and fairness; his effort is to get free from himself, so that he may in no way disfigure that which he wishes to understand or reproduce. His superiority to the common herd lies in this effort, even when its success is only partial. He distrusts his own senses, he sifts his own impressions, by returning upon them from different sides and at different times, by comparing, moderating, shading, distinguishing, and so endeavoring to approach more and more nearly to the formula which represents the maximum of truth.

The art which is grand and yet simple is that which presupposes the greatest elevation both in artist and in public.