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   THE TEMPTATION
   OF
   ST. ANTONY

   OR,

   _A REVELATION OF THE SOUL_

   BY
   GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

   _VOLUME VII._


   SIMON P. MAGEE
   PUBLISHER
   CHICAGO, ILL.




   COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
   M. WALTER DUNNE

   _Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_




   CONTENTS

   THE TEMPTATION OF ST. ANTONY


   CHAPTER I.                                                       PAGE

   A HOLY SAINT                                                        1

   CHAPTER II.

   THE TEMPTATION OF LOVE AND POWER                                   16

   CHAPTER III.

   THE DISCIPLE, HILARION                                             40

   CHAPTER IV.

   THE FIERY TRIAL                                                    48

   CHAPTER V.

   ALL GODS, ALL RELIGIONS                                            99

   CHAPTER VI.

   THE MYSTERY OF SPACE                                              143

   CHAPTER VII.

   THE CHIMERA AND THE SPHINX                                        151




   ILLUSTRATIONS


   TEMPTATION OF SAINT ANTONY

                                                             FACING PAGE

   "DO NOT RESIST, I AM OMNIPOTENT!" (See page 157)        _Frontispiece_

   HE LETS GO THE TORCH IN ORDER TO EMBRACE THE HEAP                  26




The Temptation _of_ Saint Antony


[Illustration]




CHAPTER I.

A HOLY SAINT.


It is in the Thebaid, on the heights of a mountain, where a platform,
shaped like a crescent, is surrounded by huge stones.

The Hermit's cell occupies the background. It is built of mud and reeds,
flat-roofed and doorless. Inside are seen a pitcher and a loaf of black
bread; in the centre, on a wooden support, a large book; on the ground,
here and there, bits of rush-work, a mat or two, a basket and a knife.

Some ten paces or so from the cell a tall cross is planted in the
ground; and, at the other end of the platform, a gnarled old palm-tree
leans over the abyss, for the side of the mountain is scarped; and at
the bottom of the cliff the Nile swells, as it were, into a lake.

To right and left, the view is bounded by the enclosing rocks; but, on
the side of the desert, immense undulations of a yellowish ash-colour
rise, one above and one beyond the other, like the lines of a sea-coast;
while, far off, beyond the sands, the mountains of the Libyan range form
a wall of chalk-like whiteness faintly shaded with violet haze. In
front, the sun is going down. Towards the north, the sky has a
pearl-grey tint; while, at the zenith, purple clouds, like the tufts of
a gigantic mane, stretch over the blue vault. These purple streaks grow
browner; the patches of blue assume the paleness of mother-of-pearl. The
bushes, the pebbles, the earth, now wear the hard colour of bronze, and
through space floats a golden dust so fine that it is scarcely
distinguishable from the vibrations of light.

Saint Antony, who has a long beard, unshorn locks, and a tunic of
goatskin, is seated, cross-legged, engaged in making mats. No sooner has
the sun disappeared than he heaves a deep sigh, and gazing towards the
horizon:

"Another day! Another day gone! I was not so miserable in former times
as I am now! Before the night was over, I used to begin my prayers; then
I would go down to the river to fetch water, and would reascend the
rough mountain pathway, singing a hymn, with the water-bottle on my