Unknown The World's Greatest Books - Volume 07 - Fiction

1. Auflage 2015
ISBN: 978-3-95676-741-8
Verlag: OTB eBook publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 246 Seiten

“The World's Greatest Books — Volume 07”. An enterprise such as THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS is to be judged from two different standpoints. It may be judged with respect to its specific achievement--the material of which it consists, or it may be judged with regard to its general utility in the scheme of literature to which it belongs. In an age which is sometimes ironically called 'remarkable' for its commercialism, nothing has been more truly remarkable than the advancement in learning as well as in material progress, and of all the instruments that have contributed to this end, none has been more effective, perhaps, than the practical popularisation of literature. In THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS an attempt has been made to effect a compendium of the world's best literature in a form that shall be at once accessible to every one and still faithful to its originals, or, in other words, it has been sought to allow the original author to tell his own story over again in his own language, but in the shortest possible space. However, we are aware that even THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS will not escape the criticism of a small class of people who will profess to object to this, as to any kind of interference with an author's original--in reply to which it can only be said that such objections are seldom, if ever, made in the true interests of learning, or in a genuine spirit of inquiry, and too often only proceed from a knowledge of books or love of them which goes no deeper than their title-page. The selections in THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS have been collected, and are alphabetically arranged, in ten different divisions,--namely, Fiction, Lives and Letters, History, Religion, Philosophy, Economics, Science, Poetry and Drama, Travel and Adventure and Miscellaneous Literature. An important additional feature of the work is the brief, yet highly critical biographical and bibliographical note which accompanies every author and every selection throughout the twenty volumes. To this must be also added the not less important Introductories, and other explanations written by experts, which often accompany the selections in the text--cardinal examples of which will be found in particular in the section of Religion of this work, in the articles dealing with such subjects as the Book of the Dead, Brahmanism, Confucianism, the Koran, Talmud, etc.

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Unknown

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Nightmare Abbey
"Nightmare Abbey" is perhaps the most extravagant of all Peacock's stories, and, with the exception of "Headlong Hall," it obtained more vogue on its publication in 1818 than any of his other works. It is eminently characteristic of its author--the eighteenth century Rabelaisian pagan who prided himself on his antagonism towards religion, yet whose likes and dislikes were invariably inspired by hatred of cant and enthusiasm for progress. The hero of the story is easily distinguishable as the poet Shelley. On the whole the characters are more life-like presentations of humanity than those of "Headlong Hall." Simple and weak though the plot is, the reader is carried along to the end through a brilliant maze of wit and satire; underneath which outward show of irresponsible fun there pervades a gloomy note of tragedy. I.--Mr. Glowry and His Son Nightmare Abbey, a venerable family mansion in a highly picturesque state of semi-dilapidation, in the county of, Lincoln, had the honour to be the seat of Christopher Glowry, Esquire, a gentleman much troubled with those phantoms of indigestion commonly called "blue devils." Disappointed both in love and friendship, he had come to the conclusion that there was but one good thing in the world, videlicet, a good dinner; and remained a widower, with one only son and heir, Scythrop. This son had been sent to a public-school, where a little learning was painfully beaten into him, and thence to the university, where it was carefully taken out of him, and he finished his education to the high satisfaction of the master and fellows of his college. He passed his vacations sometimes at Nightmare Abbey, and sometimes in London, at the house of his uncle, Mr. Hilary, a very cheerful and elastic gentleman. The company that frequented his house was the gayest of the gay. Scythrop danced with the ladies and drank with the gentlemen, and was pronounced by both a very accomplished, charming fellow. Here he first saw the beautiful Miss Emily Girouette, and fell in love; he was favourably received, but the respective fathers quarrelled about the terms of the bargain, and the two lovers were torn asunder, weeping and vowing eternal constancy; and in three weeks the lady was led a smiling bride to the altar, leaving Scythrop half distracted. His father, to comfort him, read him a commentary on Ecclesiastes, of his own composition; it was thrown away upon Scythrop, who retired to his tower as dismal and disconsolate as before. The tower which Scythrop inhabited stood at the south-eastern angle of the abbey; the south-western was ruinous and full of owls; the north-eastern contained the apartments of Mr. Glowry; the north-eastern tower was appropriated to the servants, whom Mr. Glowry always chose by one of two criterions--a long face or a dismal name. The main building was divided into room of state, spacious apartments for feasting, and numerous bedrooms for visitors, who, however, were few. Occasional visits were paid by Mr. and Mrs. Hilary, but another visitor, much more to Mr. dowry's taste, was Mr. Flosky, a very lachrymose and morbid gentleman, of some note in the literary world, with a very fine sense of the grim and the tearful. But the dearest friend of Mr. Glowry, and his most welcome guest, was Mr. Toobad, the Manichean Millenarian. The twelfth verse of the twelfth chapter of Revelations was always in his mouth: "Woe to the inhabitants of the earth and of the sea, for the devil is come among you, having great wrath, because he knoweth he hath but a short time." He maintained that this precise time was the point of the plenitude of the power of the Evil Principle; he used to add that by and by he would be cast down, and a happy order of things succeed, but never omitted to add "Not in our time," which last words were always echoed by Mr. Glowry, in doleful response. Shortly after Scythrop's disappointment Mr. Glowry was involved in a lawsuit, which compelled his attendance in London, and Scythrop was left alone, to wander about, with the "Sorrows of Werter" in his hand. He now became troubled with the passion for reforming the world, and meditated on the practicability of reviving a confederacy of regenerators. He wrote and published a treatise in which his meanings were carefully wrapped up in the monk's hood of transcendental technology, but filled with hints of matters deep and dangerous, which he thought would set the whole nation in a ferment, and awaited the result in awful expectation; some months after he received a letter from his bookseller, informing him that only seven copies had been sold, and concluding with a polite request for the balance. "Seven copies!" he thought. "Seven is a mystical number, and the omen is good. Let me find the seven purchasers, and they shall be the seven golden candlesticks with which I shall illuminate the world." Scythrop had a certain portion of mechanical genius, and constructed models of cells and recesses, sliding panels and secret passages, which would have baffled the skill of the Parisian police. In his father's absence, he smuggled a dumb carpenter into his tower, and gave reality to one of these models. He foresaw that a great leader of regeneration would be involved in fearful dilemmas, and determined to adopt all possible precautions for his own preservation. In the meantime, he drank Madeira and laid deep schemes for a thorough repair of the crazy fabric of human nature. II.--Marionetta Mr. Glowry returned with the loss of his lawsuit, and found Scythrop in a mood most sympathetically tragic. His friends, whom we have mentioned, availed themselves of his return to pay him a simultaneous visit, and at the same time arrived Scythrop's friend and fellow-collegian, the Hon. Mr. Listless, a young gentleman devoured with a gloomy and misanthropical nil curo. Mr. and Mrs. Hilary brought with them an orphan niece, Miss Marionetta Celestina O'Carroll, a blooming and accomplished young lady, who exhibited in her own character all the diversities of an April sky. Her hair was light brown, her eyes hazel, her features regular, and her person surpassingly graceful. She had some coquetry, and more caprice, liking and disliking almost in the same moment, and had not been three days in the abbey before she threw out all the lures of her beauty and accomplishments to make a prize of her cousin Scythrop's heart. Scythrop's romantic dreams had given him many pure anticipated cognitions of combinations of beauty and intelligence, which, he had some misgivings, were not realised by Marionetta, but he soon became distractedly in love, which, when the lady perceived, she altered her tactics and assumed coldness and reserve. Scythrop was confounded, but, instead of falling at her feet begging explanation, he retreated to his tower, seated himself in the president's chair of his imaginary tribunal, summoned Marionetta with terrible formalities, frightened her out of her wits, disclosed himself, and clasped the beautiful penitent to his bosom. While he was acting this reverie, his study door opened, and the real Marionetta appeared. "For heaven's sake, Scythrop," said she, "what is the matter?" "For heaven's sake, indeed!" said Scythrop, "for your sake, Marionetta, and you are my heaven! Distraction is the matter. I adore you, and your cruelty drives me mad!" He threw himself at her feet, and breathed a thousand vows in the most passionate language of romance. With a very arch look, she said: "I prithee, deliver thyself like a man of the world." The levity of this quotation jarred so discordantly on the romantic inamorato that he sprang to his feet, and beat his forehead with his clenched fist. The young lady was terrified, and, taking his hand in hers, said in her tenderest tone: "What would you have, Scythrop?" Scythrop was in heaven again. "What but you, Marionetta! You, for the companion of my studies, the auxiliary of my great designs for mankind." "I am afraid I should be but a poor auxiliary, Scythrop. What would you have me do?" "Do as Rosalia does with Carlos, Marionetta. Let us each open a vein in the other's arm, mix our blood in a bowl, and drink it as a sacrament of love; then we shall see visions of transcendental illumination." Marionetta disengaged herself suddenly, and fled with precipitation. Scythrop pursued her, crying, "Stop, stop Marionetta--my life, my love!" and was gaining rapidly on her flight, when he came into sudden and violent contact with Mr. Toobad, and they both plunged together to the foot of the stairs, which gave the young lady time to escape and enclose herself in her chamber. This was witnessed by Mr. Glowry, and he determined on a full explanation. He therefore entered Scythrop Tower, and at once said: "So, sir, you are in love with your cousin." Scythrop, with as little hesitation, answered, "Yes, sir." "That is candid, at least. It is very provoking, very disappointing. I could not have supposed that you could have been infatuated with such a dancing, laughing, singing, careless, merry hearted thing as Marionetta--and with no fortune. Besides, sir, I have made a choice for you. Such a lovely, serious creature, in a fine state of high dissatisfaction with the world! Sir, I have pledged my honour to the contract, and now, sir, what is to be done?" "Indeed, sir, I cannot say. I claim on this occasion that liberty of action which is the co-natal prerogative of every rational being." "Liberty of action, sir! There is no such thing, and if you do not comply with my wishes, I shall be under the necessity of disinheriting...