[2] Viz. that of Sir John Wolfe Barry printed below as letter No. 3. _THE NEW TEMPTATION OF ST. ANTHONY._ BY JOHN W. N. SULLIVAN. (_The time is the present day. St. Anthony is discovered seated on the ground outside his hut. The cross stands in its accustomed place, erect before him; and the great panorama, of which he is now weary, lies below him. He has changed but slightly with the years; something of his old immobility has disappeared. He occasionally shrugs his shoulders when speaking, and he often accompanies his reflections with slight gestures of the hands._) ANTHONY (_thinking_). I have attained peace. Those troubling visions have disappeared. Never for an instant have I departed from grace since the Saviour’s face appeared to me in its shining disc of gold. The burning days and solemn nights pass noiselessly. Rare tempests mutter unnoticed about me. Nothing has power to disturb my beatific monotony; nor hope, nor fear, nor love, nor regrets. I have triumphed over all temptations. The devil has left me. (_He sighs._) That journey through space, upborne on his wings! (_Stars commence to shine: the daylight lingers._) I have resisted all the seductions of the flesh. I value not the riches of the mind. (_He starts, and looks fixedly at a vague light which advances across the desert._) It seems as if----. But that cannot be: I have already sustained all assaults. (_The light approaches rapidly. It is rose-coloured; within it a figure is dimly visible. With a thunderous noise it rolls to within ten paces of the saint. The air shakes and for an instant the stars are obscured. This passes: the light fades, and the form of a woman is perceived, upright, robed in white, her face stern and majestic. The sleeves of her garment are very wide, reaching to the ground._) THE WOMAN (_slightly raising her right arm_). I have need of you. ANTHONY (_stammering_). What mean you? THE WOMAN. I am your creator. Much study and great gifts came together for your making. They also were my children. My best blood flows in your veins. My name must mean everything to you, for you are wholly a product of my essence. I am called La France. ANTHONY (_pales and gazes fixedly at his visitor_). I belong to God. THE WOMAN (_sternly_). Do you deny that you are French? (_Anthony blushes and averts his gaze. He becomes sulky._) What existence have you had apart from France? Would the world still hold you, you and your temptations, apart from---- ANTHONY (_starting up and with outstretched hands_). Say not that name! Say it not! (_He places his fingers in his ears and then, observing that the woman’s lips do not move, lowers his hands._) Speak! but avoid that name. I can endure aught else.