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First and foremost, always and forever, among tales for children come the fairy tales. What were childhood without the fairy tale? That child who has never wandered through the magic gardens of Fairyland is unfortunate indeed. But that child does not exist, for the mind and heart of every child, even all unaided, will make for itself a fairyland out of anything and nothing. But the art of writing fairy tales seems to be another thing that has vanished with the vanished childhood of the race. The best fairy tales are always the old ones, stories that were never really written, but just grew in the telling as they passed down through generations of fireside evenings. They were told or enjoyed by grown men and women in an earlier, more naive age, and they never lose their appeal to the child in us as to the children around us now. As to new fairy stories, well, Mr. Andrew Lang, the untiring editor, who makes it possible to unearth new-old stories every year and dress them out in a new colour of raiment for the Christmas tree, says some very unkind things of them in his latest offering, The Lilac Fairy Book ."The three hundred and sixty-five authors who try to write new fairy tales are very tiresome," he says. "Their fairies try to be funny and fail, or they try to preach and succeed. Real fairies never preach or talk slang-nobody can write a new fairy tale; the thing is impossible." The tenor of Mr. Langs reproach of modern writers of fairy tales is that they attempt to write just for children and therefore fail. Possibly he may be right! But we will forgive him his feeling against the writers who prefer to write rather than to edit, for the sake of the fine new-old stories he has found for us here. It is really astonishing how Mr. Lang goes on unearthing so many new stories-new-old is what we mean- every year. Some of the stories in this new book have come from Ireland, some from the Highlands of Scotland, some from wild Wales.

The preface of the book gives credit to Mrs.Lang for these beautful stories which she did out of old romances, the editing being the work of Andrew Lang. Which ever one may deserve the "lions share" of the authorship we welcome this charming collection of tales which are worthy the author from whom we have been accustomed, for many years, to expect the most beautiful of modern fairy tales. There is no danger of being forced to take the editors advice: if we do not like one story to try another. From the moment we fell under the spell of William and the Werwolf there was not a doubt in our minds that every one of these classic romances must be read in regular order from beginning to end. A book of such rare literary merit, so exquisitely bound and illustrated is a valuable addition to young peoples libraries.This book is fully illustrated and annotated with a rare extensive biographical sketch of the author, Andrew Lang, written by Sir Edmund Gosse, CB, a contemporary poet and writer.Contents: PrefaceHow William Of Palermo Was Carried Off By The WerwolfThe Disenchantment Of The WerwolfThe Slaying Of Hallgerdas HusbandsThe Death Of GunnarNjals BurningThe Lady Of SolaceUna And The LionHow The Red Cross Knight Slew The DragonAmys And AmyleThe Tale Of The CidThe Knight Of The Sorrowful CountenanceThe Adventure Of The Two Armies Who Turned Out To Be Flocks Of SheepThe Adventure Of The Bobbing LightsThe Helmet Of MambrinoHow Don Quixote Was Enchanted While Guarding The CastleDon Quixotes Home-ComingThe Meeting Of Huon And Oberon, King Of The FairiesHow Oberon Saved HuonHavelok And GoldboroughCupid And PsycheSir Bevis The StrongOgier The DaneHow The Ass Became A Man AgainGuy Of WarwickHow Bradamante Conquered The WizardThe Ring Of BradamanteThe Fulfilling Of The ProphecyThe Knight Of The SunHow The Knight Of The Sun Rescued His Father

This is volume 1, covering the time from the Roman Occupation to Feudal Scotland.In many volumes of several thousand combined pages the series "The History of Scotland" deals with something less than two millenniums of Scottish history. Every single volume covers a certain period in an attempt to examine the elements and forces which were imperative to the making of the Scottish people, and to record the more important events of that time.

The theory that Francis Bacon was, in the main, the author of "Shakespeares plays," has now been for fifty years before the learned world. Its advocates have met with less support than they had reason to expect. Their methods, their logic, and their hypotheses closely resemble those applied by many British and foreign scholars to Homer; and by critics of the very Highest School to Holy Writ. Yet the Baconian theory is universally rejected in England by the professors and historians of English literature; and generally by students who have no profession save that of Letters. The Baconians, however, do not lack the countenance and assistance of highly distinguished persons, whose names are famous where those of mere men of letters are unknown; and in circles where the title of "Professor" is not duly respected.Contents: IntroductionChapter I: The Baconian And Anti-Willian PositionsChapter Ii: The "Silence" About ShakespeareChapter Iii: That Impossible He - The Schooling Of ShakespeareChapter Iv: Mr. Collins On Shakespeares LearningChapter V: Shakespeare, Genius, And SocietyChapter Vi: The Courtly Plays: "Loves Labours Lost"Chapter Vii: Contemporary Recognition Of Will As AuthorChapter Viii: "The Silence Of Philip Henslowe"Chapter Ix: The Later Life Of Shakespeare - His Monument And PortraitsChapter X: "The Traditional Shakspere"Chapter Xi: The First FolioChapter Xii: Ben Jonson And ShakespeareChapter Xiii: The Preoccupations Of BaconAppendicesAppendix I: "Troilus And Cressida"Appendix Ii - Chettles Supposed Allusion To Will ShakspereThis book is annotated with a rare extensive biographical sketch of the author, Andrew Lang, written by Sir Edmund Gosse, CB, a contemporary poet and writer.

In "Prince Ricardo of Pantouflia: Being the Adventures of Prince Prigios Son," Andrew Lang crafts a whimsical yet richly layered tale that intertwines the elements of classic fairy tales with a satirical edge, celebrating the imaginative potential of childrenAos literature. The narrative follows Prince Ricardo, the son of Prince Prigio, as he navigates a world filled with eccentric characters, magical occurrences, and thoughtful moral dilemmas. LangAos prose showcases his adeptness at blending humor with poignant life lessons, embodying late Victorian ideals while challenging them through ironic commentary on nobility and privilege. The book stands as a notable example of LangAos contribution to the fairy tale genre, set against the backdrop of his other works such as the Rainbow Fairy Books. Andrew Lang (1844-1912) was a Scottish novelist, poet, and folklorist who made significant contributions to the realms of anthropology and childrens literature. A prolific writer and scholar, his experiences collecting folklore and his fascination with mythological narratives undoubtedly influenced his storytelling approach. LangAos deep understanding of narrative structure and his passion for cultural stories inform his creation of the playful, yet insightful world of Pantouflia, where he blends humor with social critiqueAia reflection of his own cultural context. "Prince Ricardo of Pantouflia" offers readers a delightful escapade brimming with enchantment while intriguing them with its insightful commentary on social hierarchies. Ideal for both children and adults, this enchanting tale invites exploration of imagination, virtue, and the complexities of growing up. Langs enchanting prose and deft storytelling will captivate readers, making this book a must-read for those who cherish the enduring power of fairy tales.

In "Pickle the Spy; Or, the Incognito of Prince Charles," Andrew Lang masterfully intertwines historical fiction with adventure, creating a narrative that reveals the intricate web of espionage during the Jacobite risings in 18th-century Britain. The novel is characterized by Langs rich prose and a keen attention to period detail, immersing readers in the tumultuous era surrounding Prince Charles Stuarts endeavors to reclaim the British throne. With its blend of humor and drama, the book not only entertains but also serves as a commentary on loyalty and deception among royal and common folk alike. Andrew Lang, a Scottish poet, novelist, and literary critic, was a pivotal figure in the late Victorian literary scene. His background in folklore and myth, as well as his profound interest in history, undoubtedly influenced his approach to writing this novel. LangAos fascination with the Jacobite cause, rooted in his own Scottish heritage, drives his exploration of historical narratives and offers readers a unique perspective on this pivotal moment in British history. "Pickle the Spy" is essential reading for those who appreciate a rich tapestry of history, humor, and drama. LangAos keen insights into human nature and social dynamics, paired with his engaging storytelling, make this novel a compelling exploration of loyalty and identity. Readers seeking a captivating blend of history and fiction will find themselves enraptured by Langs vivid characters and lively plots.

Illustrators: L. Bogle, Lucien Davis, H. J. Ford, / C. H. M. Kerr, and Lancelot Speed

Illustrator: H. J. Ford

JOAN OF ARC was perhaps the most wonderful person who ever lived in the world. The story of her life is so strange that we could scarcely believe it to be true, if all that happened to her had not been told by people in a court of law, and written down by her deadly enemies, while she was still alive. She was burned to death when she was only nineteen: she was not seventeen when she first led the armies of France to victory, and delivered her country from the English.Joan was the daughter of a poor man, in a little country village. She had never learned to read, or write, or mount a horse. Yet she was so wise that many learned men could not puzzle her by questions: she was one of the best riders in France; one of the most skilled in aiming cannons, and so great a general that she defeated the English again and again, and her army was never beaten till her King deserted her. She was so brave that severe wounds could not stop her from leading on her soldiers, and so tender-hearted that she would comfort the wounded English on the field of battle, and protect them from cruelty. She was so good that her enemies could not find one true story to tell against her in the least thing; and she was so modest that in the height of her glory she was wishing to be at home in her fathers cottage, sewing or spinning beside her mother.

YOU may still see the old Scotch house where Randal was born, so long ago. Nobody lives there now. Most of the roof has fallen in, there is no glass in the windows, and all the doors are open. They were open in the days of Randals fathernearly four hundred years have passed since thenand everyone who came was welcome to his share of beef and broth and ale. But now the doors are not only open, they are quite gone, and there is nobody within to give you a welcome.So there is nothing but emptiness in the old house where Randal lived with Jean, three hundred and sixty years or so before you were born. It is a high old house, and wide, with the broken slates still on the roof. At the corner there are little round towers, like pepperboxes, with sharp peaks. The stems of the ivy that covers the walls are as thick as trees. There are many trees crowding all round, and there are hills round it too; and far below you hear the Tweed whispering all day. The house is called Fairnilee, which means "the Fairies Field;" for people believed in fairies, as you shall hear, when Randal was a boy, and even when my father was a boy.Randal was all alone in the house when he was a little fellowalone with his mother, and Nancy the old nurse, and Simon Grieve the butler, who wore a black velvet coat and a big silver chain. Then there were the maids, and the grooms, and the farm folk, who were all friends of Randals. He was not lonely, and he did not feel unhappy, even before Jean came, as you shall be told. But the grown-up people were sad and silent at Fairnilee. Randal had no father; his mother, Lady Ker, was a widow. She was still quite young, and Randal thought her the most beautiful person in the world. Children think these things about their mothers, and Randal had seen no ladies but his mother only. She had brown hair and brown eyes and red lips, and a grave kind face, which looked serious under her great white widows cap with the black hood over it.

This is the third, and probably the last, of the Fairy Books of many colours. First there was the Blue Fairy Book; then, children, you asked for more, and we made up the Red Fairy Book; and, when you wanted more still, the Green Fairy Book was put together. The stories in all the books are borrowed from many countries; some are French, some German, some Russian, some Italian, some Scottish, some English, one Chinese. However much these nations differ about trifles, they all agree in liking fairy tales. The reason, no doubt, is that men were much like children in their minds long ago, long, long ago, and so before they took to writing newspapers, and sermons, and novels, and long poems, they told each other stories, such as you read in the fairy books. They believed that witches could turn people into beasts, that beasts could speak, that magic rings could make their owners invisible, and all the other wonders in the stories. Then, as the world became grown-up, the fairy tales which were not written down would have been quite forgotten but that the old grannies remembered them, and told them to the little grandchildren: and when they, in their turn, became grannies, they remembered them, and told them also.

The tales of King Arthur and his Knights are of Celtic origin. The Celts were the people who occupied Britain at the time when the history of the country opens, and a few words are necessary to explain why the characters in the stories act and speak as though they belonged to a later age.It is believed that King Arthur lived in the sixth century, just after the Romans withdrew from Britain, and when the Britons, left to defend themselves against the attacks of the marauding Saxons, rose and defeated them at Mount Badon, securing to themselves peace for many years. It was probably about this time that King Arthur and his company of Knights performed the deeds which were to become the themes of stories and lays for generations afterwards.In olden times, it was the custom of minstrels and story-tellers to travel through the land from court to court, telling of tales of chivalry and heroism, and for many centuries the tales of King Arthur formed the stock from which the story-teller drew.In this way the stories came to be handed down from father to son, in Brittany (whose people are of the same family as the Welsh) as well as in Wales and England, and by this means alone were they prevented from being lost. But in the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I., they were set down on paper, and so became literature. Before this, however, a British writer had written out some of the tales, and from him as well as from the lips of the bards and story-tellers of their own generation, the writers in the time of Henry II. were able to collect their information.viNow, it will be remembered that the second and third crusades were being carried on during the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I., and many English and French Knights were therefore fighting in the fields of Palestine.The story-teller, whose living depended on the welcome his stories met with, instead of telling them according to tradition, altered them to suit the tastes of his hearers.

These papers do not profess even to sketch the outlines of a history of Oxford.They are merely records of the impressions made by this or that aspect of the life of the University as it has been in different ages.Oxford is not an easy place to design in black and white, with the pen or the etchers needle.On a wild winter or late autumn day (such as Father Faber has made permanent in a beautiful poem) the sunshine fleets along the plain, revealing towers, and floods, and trees, in a gleam of watery light, and leaving them once more in shadow.The melancholy mist creeps over the city, the damp soaks into the heart of everything, and such suicidal weather ensues as has been described, once for all, by the author of John-a-Dreams.How different Oxford looks when the road to Cowley Marsh is dumb with dust, when the heat seems almost tropical, and by the drowsy banks of the Cherwell you might almost expect some shy southern water-beast to come crashing through the reeds!And such a day, again, is unlike the bright weather of late September, when all the gold and scarlet of Bagley Wood are concentrated in the leaves that cover the walls of Magdalen with an imperial vesture.Our memories of Oxford, if we have long made her a Castle of Indolence, vary no less than do the shifting aspects of her scenery.Days of spring and of mere pleasure in existence have alternated with days of gloom and loneliness, of melancholy, of resignation.Our mental pictures of the place are tinged by many moods, as the landscape is beheld in shower and sunshine, in frost, and in the colourless drizzling weather.Oxford, that once seemed a pleasant porch and entrance into life, may become a dingy ante-room, where we kick our heels with other weary, waiting people.At last, if men linger there too late, Oxford grows a prison, and it is the final condition of the loiterer to take this for a hermitage.It is well to leave the enchantress betimes, and to carry away few but kind recollections.

The theory that Francis Bacon was, in the main, the author of "Shakespeares plays," has now been for fifty years before the learned world. Its advocates have met with less support than they had reason to expect. Their methods, their logic, and their hypotheses closely resemble those applied by many British and foreign scholars to Homer; and by critics of the very Highest School to Holy Writ. Yet the Baconian theory is universally rejected in England by the professors and historians of English literature; and generally by students who have no profession save that of Letters. The Baconians, however, do not lack the countenance and assistance of highly distinguished persons, whose names are famous where those of mere men of letters are unknown; and in circles where the title of "Professor" is not duly respected.Contents: IntroductionChapter I: The Baconian And Anti-Willian PositionsChapter Ii: The "Silence" About ShakespeareChapter Iii: That Impossible He - The Schooling Of ShakespeareChapter Iv: Mr. Collins On Shakespeares LearningChapter V: Shakespeare, Genius, And SocietyChapter Vi: The Courtly Plays: "Loves Labours Lost"Chapter Vii: Contemporary Recognition Of Will As AuthorChapter Viii: "The Silence Of Philip Henslowe"Chapter Ix: The Later Life Of Shakespeare - His Monument And PortraitsChapter X: "The Traditional Shakspere"Chapter Xi: The First FolioChapter Xii: Ben Jonson And ShakespeareChapter Xiii: The Preoccupations Of BaconAppendicesAppendix I: "Troilus And Cressida"Appendix Ii - Chettles Supposed Allusion To Will ShakspereThis book is annotated with a rare extensive biographical sketch of the author, Andrew Lang, written by Sir Edmund Gosse, CB, a contemporary poet and writer.