Puslapio vaizdai
PDF
„ePub“

galleries of that institution, of the works of its associates from the period of its foundation in 1704 to the present time. The managing committee announces that the object of the exhibition is to give a representation of the development of art in the Austrian dominions since the beginning of the last century.

From Abroad.

OUR PARIS LETTER.

July 28, 1875.

HIS is emphatically the dull season in Paris as in New York. The fashionables have gone out of town; two-thirds of the theatres are closed, and the other third is dragging out a precarious existence, aided by stray contributions from transient foreigners. Even the Sultan of Zanzibar is about to take his departure. The presence of his dusky highness has brightened up matters for a week past. He has been going round sight-seeing, has had a superb pair of vases presented to him at Sevres, and received a beautiful chair-cover in tapestry on the occasion of his visit to the Gobelins. Fancy wasting such artistic treasures on a barbaric African! He is by no means a beauty to look upon, being thick-lipped and woollybearded after the manner of his race in general, though his complexion is far from that of a negro, being yellow, or rather coffee-colored. Some of his suite, however, are as black as ebony. He seemed greatly to enjoy his visit to the Jardin d'Acclimatation, and was particularly amused with the gambols of the sea-lions. As to the Opéra, he evidently thought very little of the performance, and with reason, for it was very, very poor. One act of "La Juive," and the ballet of "CoppeFia," filled out the programme of the evening. The sultan evidently admired the pantomimic part of the ballet, but he yawned over the opera, and seemed totally unimpressed by the dancing. The performance was very brief, beginning as it did at half-past eight, and terminating at eleven-a short allowance of amusement for those who had paid three dollars and three dollars and forty cents for their seats. There are grave complaints afloat about the management of the Opéra at present. It is said that M. Halanzier is running it simply to make money. The extreme economy with which the musical part of the organization is managed, none of the great French singers of the day, with the single exception of Faure, forming part of the troupe; the very few operas that comprise the répertoire, and the managerial indifference to novelty or artistic ensemble, make up quite a list of well-grounded complaints. It is whispered, moreover, that the manager is in league with the speculators that infest the precincts of the Opéra House, and that the alleged scarcity of seats at the regular prices, which Heaven knows are high enough in all conscience, is owing to this complicity. Be this as it may, it is generally conceded that M. Halanzier is far less concerned for the artistic than for the pecuniary success of the Opéra.

Schneider is positively to return to the stage next season. She has been impelled to this step by the cost of her superb hotel on the Avenue de l'Impératrice. The price of that has made quite a hole in her investments, and she wishes to repair the breach. She is to create the leading character in a new piece by Messrs. Meilhac and Halévy, at the Variétés-probably the long-promised piece of "La Boulangère a des Ecus." There was some talk of reviving "La Grande-Duchesse," but that

mirth-provoking opera will probably never be performed in Paris again. The authorities have forbidden its reproduction on account of its satire on the petty princes of Germany, and its general dealings with German subjects.

It is feared that General Boum and Baron Puck might be made the object of a popular demonstration more ardent than agreeable. The new comedy by Messrs. Meilhac and Halévy, which is intended for the Comédie Française, is nearly finished, but its title and subject have not yet transpired. I believe I before informed you of the fact that it had been sold to an American manager before it was half finished. The new comedy by Alexandre Dumas, which is destined for the same theatre, is to form a pendant to his "DemiMonde," and is to trace the influence of ces dames upon the literature, the society, and the politics of the day-a wide-reaching subject, and one that methinks is not specially fitted for dramatic treatment. Dumas has shut himself up in his country-seat, and is hard at work on this piece, which he declares is to be his chef-d'œuvre. Sardou's "Remorse" is already on rehearsal at the Gymnase, though it is not to be produced before October or November. The leading rôles have been confided to M. Worms and Mademoiselle Tallandiera. But before it is produced there is talk of reviving "La Dame aux Camélias," with Tallandiera as Marguerite Gautier.

The Plon lawsuit has come to the surface again. It may be remembered that M. Plon, the celebrated book-publisher, instituted some time ago a suit against the estate of Napoleon III., to obtain payment for a large portion of his edition of the "Life of Cæsar." He, or rather his heirs, for M. Plon himself is dead, accuses the late emperor of a breach of contract in not having finished the work. Twenty-two thousand copies remain on hand, for which an indemnity of one hundred and sixty-seven thousand francs is claimed. The lawyers for the other side sought to prove that the literary and pecuniary success of the work had been great, and instanced the fact that the firm had paid to the emperor one hundred and ninety-two thousand francs as author's royalty. But none the less did the fact transpire that from 1867 to 1870, inclusive, not one hundred and fifty copies of the work had been sold. Evidently paying court to literary sovereigns is a costly game for publishers to indulge in.

The English newspapers in Paris are not very numerous. First, of course, on the list comes the time-honored Galignani, which would be very nice if it was not so thoroughly British in tone and selections, and if we were not obliged to pay ten cents for it. Nor are its dimensions proportioned to its price, for it is a mere single-sheet affair, containing about as much matter as the Philadelphia Ledger. Next comes the American Register, with its twelve pages, its full and complete lists of American arrivals abroad, and its exhaustive and entertaining summary of news both foreign and domestic. Its New York correspondence is peculiarly fresh, sparkling, and interesting. Six cents is the price of this flourishing Yankee production. The Continental Herald, originally published in Geneva, but transferred to Paris a few months ago, bade fair at one time to become a popular and thriving institution. But it got into difficulties, and about six weeks ago was sold out to the London Hour. It comes to us now from London, dated a day ahead, and with a column or two on American and French topics, but, apart from its heading and the additions aforesaid, it is nothing more or less than an edition of the London paper, pre

pared for Continental circulation, that is to say, a thoroughly English newspaper deprived of all its Continental and cosmopolitan features. So the Register remains the only really American newspaper in Paris. Those Americans abroad who can read French (and their name it is not legion) usually peruse the saucy, witty, mendacious Figaro, notwithstanding its Legitimist propensities. As a repository of all the news, scandal, and canards of the Parisian world, it is certainly very amusing, but about the world of outside barbarism it troubles itself very little. Nothing that is not Parisian, or at least French, is of sufficient importance to be noticed in its columns. For instance, when the Schiller was lost, the Figaro declined to publish a list of the passengers, for the good and sufficient reason that there were no French persons among them. Very amusingly, too, it called attention solemnly to the fact that the three German lines, the Adler, the Hamburg, and the NorthGerman Lloyd, had lost six steamers in the course of twenty years, ignoring or forgetting another fact, namely, that the single French line had lost three steamers inside of one year. Though the Figaro can boast of so many American readers, it cherishes a bitter dislike against Americans in general, and American women in particular, and never lets slip a chance of abusing and of slandering them.

The great Fluvial and Maritime Exhibition at the Palais d'Industrie is nearly in ordernot quite, though it has been open now for nearly two weeks. But the noise of hammering still rises over all the din of the machinery, and workmen are still to be seen rushing to and fro with beams, and pipes, and boxes, striving to get things in order. The title of the exhibition is ludicrously inaccurate-of course there are some things there that pertain to rivers and maritime navigation, but the bulk of the articles exhibited has about as much to do with navigation as with the moon. Clocks, bronzes, bird-cages, rat-traps, gilt and inlaid furniture, chocolate, soap, fire-proof safes, and patent beds, such is the variety of articles that crowd the long nave of the Palais. It is, in fact, a regular Franklin Institute display, only not so varied as are those at home, though probably more tasteful. One of the most imposing attractions of the place is a gigantic piece of rock-work towering nearly to the roof of the Palais, with a cascade dashing and sparkling down the front of it and falling into an ornamental basin at its base. Back of the cascade a cool, deep, dark grotto affords an entrance for those who wish to enjoy the view of the crowded nave through the veil of falling water. Mosses and evergreens garnish the clefts of the mimic rocks, aquatic plants bloom in the pool, and the whole affair looks like a permanent and natural decoration, instead of an effort of decorative art. A monster aquarium, in the same kind of artificial rock-work, extends for some fifty or sixty feet along one of the. side-avenues. There is a monster clock that tells the simultaneous time in all the principal cities of the world. There are many swimming and diving suits, Captain Boyton having made that style of thing extremely popular over here. There is a boat all of solid mahogany, hollowed out from a single log, and polished and varnished outside so as to show the grain and color of the wood. In this boat, so runs the legend, Juarez once made his escape when hard pressed by the soldiers of Maximilian. The English division of the exhibition contains some curious and interesting models of vessels, some beautiful sail and row boats, and a very curious model of a life-sav

ing apparatus, intended to transport shipwrecked passengers from a stranded vessel to the shore. The upper ends of the cords are attached to the galleries of the Palais, and the exhibitor is kept busy hauling up and down the miniature basket that runs so deftly along the cords. It is a pity that the full-sized apparatus itself is not exhibited, for, if a regular car with a full-grown man in it were to be hoisted up and let down occasionally, the attraction would have been far greater. As to the furniture, porcelain, etc., the display is not nearly so good as it was at the Exhibition of Fine Arts applied to Industry which was held last year. Among the edible products, which are exhibited in great numbers, the Margarine Mouries, or imitation butter, is probably the most curious. The counter, piled with paleyellow pots and rolls, each in its clean linen cloth, looked very tempting, and the butter resembled the real article à s'y méprendre. At the back of the stall was piled a row of kegs marked "Geneva Butter," " English Butter," "Belgian Butter," etc., each country, it appears, having a fancy for a particularly flavored article, which the imitation butter is prepared to supply. The prospectus issued by the manufacturers declares that the materials employed are simply beef-tallow purified by a particular process, and milk or cream. The advantages of the Margarine over the real article are claimed to be cheapness (the best table-butter costs twenty-five cents a pound, and cooking-butter twenty-two), economy in quantity, and the property of remaining sweet for a much longer time. America seems to be represented at the exhibition mainly by the canned fruits and oysters, the pea-nuts, the cocoa-nut cakes, and the buckwheat-flour, exhibited by Cardinet, the well-known American grocer of the Rue de Seze.

Madame Louis Figuier, the wife of the celebrated author of "The World before the Deluge," has written a play called "La Dame aux Lilas Blancs," which has just been brought out at the Vaudeville. The plot is very simple and extremely improbable. There are two women who resemble each other as closely as two peas in a pod. One is a proper and pious widow, and the other is an improper Indienne named Jaguarita. One man loves them both, the first purely, and the latter passionately. Jaguarita elopes with a lover whose principal recommendation seems to be that he beats her, whereupon the hero marries his other love. Madame Figuier does not appear to possess any particular vocation for dramatic writing, her present effort being weak, bald, and improbable. The parts of the two heroines are played by one actress, a débutante, Mademoiselle Melvil, who displayed therein no inconsiderable share of dramatic talent. Poor Bressant will probably never appear on the stage again. He is in wretched health, and is said to be threatened with paralysis. Apparently Mademoiselle Broisat's assumption of the character of Gabrielle de Belle-Isle was not successful, for the play has recently been performed with Sarah Bernhardt as the gentle and calumniated heroine.

his pen. Even for the short story-"The Marriage of Moira O'Fergus "--which he wrote in the Cornhill, he received two hundred pounds. Princely pay, this-worthy of the days when Thackeray was the Cornhill's editor! Great indeed has been the falling off in this magazine's circulation since that time. Thackeray got it up to nearly a hundred thousand; now, under Mr. Leslie Stephen's editorship, it sells about twenty-five thousand. Still, this circulation is nearly double that of any of our other shilling monthlies.

an invitation to dinner at a certain house, ar-
rived in due course. It was observed that he
was rather excited and strange in manner, but
as he is known to have a singularly high-
strung, nervous temperament, no particular
attention was paid to this circumstance. Din-
ner went off in the usual way. The guest of
the evening was particularly brilliant; his
rapid, discursive conversation never ceased.
After dinner, in the drawing-room, he con-
sented to read some sonnets from his most
recently-published volume, and he was good
enough to expound in most eloquent and lu-
minous language the subtler meanings of these
poems and their connection with each other.
His audience were delighted. Here and there,
of course, there was a touch of extravagance
in his speech, but to a poet some poetic license
must be granted. Before going he requested
the lady of the house to accept the volume, and
inscribed her name in it. All this was very
well, but some two or three days afterward he
called upon his host, and immediately began to
pour forth a whole string of apologies. He had
mislaid the card-he had mistaken the night-thing like a hundred guineas. By-the-way,
he had had to go down into the country. This
astonished person now discovered that his
guest of the evening was absolutely in igno-
rance of his ever having been near the house,
that he had come to apologize for having
neglected the invitation, and that he was anx-
ious that the lady of the house should accept
a copy, to be sent from the publishers, of
the very book which he himself had given
her."

From my knowledge of the author of "Chastelard," I have not the smallest doubt that the above story is true. Mr. Swinburne is one of the most nervous men-he is very slightly built, and not more than five feet two in height - you could possibly imagine. I shall never forget seeing him at the poetic readings given by the poet Buchanan, some years ago, in the Hanover - Square Rooms. There, in a corner, his intellectual face now wearing a scowl, now a beatific expression, as he was pleased or displeased with his brother-poet's elocution, did he sit twirling his fingers and thumbs in a ludicrously-excited way. Ere long he became the observed of every one. "Who is that?" whispered a mercantile friend to me, nodding toward him. "That," replied I, wishing to surprise the man of figures, "is one of our greatest poets, Mr. Swinburne." "Indeed!" was the reply. "Well, I've always heard that poets were a rum lot; now I've no doubt about it!"

A paragraph regarding Miss Mulock (Mrs. Craik), the authoress of "John Halifax, Gentleman," that has been going the "round" of the American press, contains more than one blunder. For instance, it says that Mrs. Craik is a widow; this is not so-but I can tell you what has probably given rise to the statement. A short time before his marriage to Miss Mulock, Mr. Craik met with an accident which necessitated the amputation of his leg. By-theway, you have read Mrs. Craik's "The Little Lame Prince;" that charming children's story was suggested in some slight measure by the authoress's own experiences. Yes, she has a living romance in her house. In her family is a little girl who, for aught she knows, may OUR LONDON LETTER. yet turn out to be of royal blood. This little THE London correspondent of one of our maid was found some time ago upon a heap of provincial papers gives what he calls a "strikstones outside Mr. and Mrs. Craik's door. The ing instance" of "the eccentricities of genius kind couple took her in, nursed her, and made with which literary history abounds." Why much of her (they have no children of their disguise matters? It refers to Mr. Swinburne; | own), and now the tiny outcast has become

LUCY H. HOOPER.

he is the young poet alluded to. But let me quote the anecdote. Here it is:

their adopted daughter.

To use a vulgar expression, Mr. William

"One of our younger poets, having accepted Black must be making "a mint of money" by

Mademoiselle Zare Thalberg's lines have certainly fallen in pleasant places. As I remarked the other week, she has already become immensely popular over here; and not only is she a great favorite, but she is doing what Albert Smith boldly confessed his desire to do "turning a few coppers." Mademoiselle is in great demand for private parties. She sings and warbles at them exquisitely-to the chagrin, no doubt, of many an old dowager whose daughters hang on hand-and each time she attends one of these she gets, I am told, some

the Times has just accorded a meed of praise
to the young songstress. In its "few general
observations on the season" at Covent Gar-
den, it says, in its usual ponderous style:
"Mademoiselle Zare Thalberg, Mr. Gye's
youngest artist, although she has only ap-
peared in three characters, may be looked
upon as his most promising recent acquisition.
In each part she has made a highly-favorable
impression." In these "few observations,"
too, the leading journal remarks, again in
stilted phraseology, "That Madame Adelina
Patti, on legitimate grounds, enjoys more than
ever the favor of the public, is an unquestion-
able fact." It also assures us that Mademoi-
selle Albani has progressed, and is progress-
ing, and that M. Faure has "maintained his
position as the first dramatic barytone "-with
which observations opera-goers in general
will, I am sure, agree. Further, we learn from
this article in the Times that, "from the 30th
of March to the 17th of July-the opening
night and the closing night-there were eigh-
ty-three performances, fifty-nine conducted by
Signor Vianesi, and twenty-four by Signor
Bevignani. Both conductors," goes on the
"Thunderer,"
," "must have shown exemplary
diligence, seeing that no less than twenty-
nine different operas were produced, and for
the greater part in the most effective manner.

...

·

The largest number of representations (fifteen) were devoted to three of Mozart's operas-'Don Giovanni,' 'Il Flauto Magico,' and 'Le Nozze de Figaro;' Meyerbeer (fourteen) coming next, with Robert le Diable,' the Huguenots,' 'Dinorah,' and 'L'Etoile du Nord;' Verdi next (ten), Rossini next (nine); Auber, Donizetti, and Gounod, each counting seven. So, notwithstanding the idea prevalent here and there"-I am still quoting from our representative journal-" that the coming of Wagner, with his 'Lohengrin,' was to be at least the temporary annihilation of our old and cherished masterpieces, the reverse has proved to be the case. Mozart, Meyerbeer, Rossini, and Verdi, are more than ever popular; and, though Mozart died in 1791, Rossini left off composing in 1829, and the 'Huguenots' was produced in 1836, they are likely to retain the popularity so well earned by their compositions, in which rhythmical melody, the essence and soul of music, everywhere prevails." I, for one, hope that this prediction will come true. I earnestly hope that the reign of "the music of the future" will be very remote indeed!

WILL WILLIAMS.

cartridge after each discharge. Many ingen

character. So clearly do the accompanying

Science, Invention, Discovery. ious and effective plans have been devised illustrations define the form of this gun, and

THE EVANS REPEATING RIFLE.

to adapt the repeating principle to the rifle, and by this means render a more rapid method of firing possible. The Henry, Spencer, and Sharp rifles belong to this class, and to these may now be added the Evans repeating ternational contests have served to direct pub- rifle, which, though still awaiting that final

HE signal triumphs of American rifles and riflemen in the recent Irish and in

THE R

lic attention not only to the skill of our marksmen, but to the power and efficiency of the American rifle. With the general form and construction of the single-cartridge breechloading rifle our readers are doubtless familiar, and there seems to remain but one direction in which these weapons are open to improvement. We refer to the satisfactory adaptation of the repeating system. As

at present constructed, the most accurate ri

fles are those which require the removal of the old shell and the introduction of a fresh

decision that comes only after long trial, appears to possess advantages of a marked

[ocr errors]

especially its cartridge-magazine, that but a brief description is needful. In the first illustration we have the gun as it appears when loaded and ready for action. The special feature or peculiarity here appears only in the form of the stock, which consists of a metallic cylinder below, upon which rest the wooden portions that partially inclose it.

In the second figure a sectional view of this magazine is given, and it is here that the ingenuity of the inventor is displayed at best. The metallic cylinder incloses a solid spiral, which is divided into longitudinal sections, each section being of sufficient size to contain a single metallic cartridge; and, as there are thirty-four of these chambers, the magazine when full contains this number of loaded cartridges.

When this magazine is to be loaded, the cartridges are introduced through an opening in the butt. Each lowering of the lever attached to the breech causes a partial rotation in the spiral case and a consequent forward movement of the cartridge. A return of the lever to its position against the butt at the same time closes the breech against the back of the inserted cartridge, and the weapon is ready for firing.

As it is our purpose simply to direct attention to the novel features of this weapon, viewed only as an ingenious mechanical device, we will not enter into a discussion of its claims to favor as set forth by the manufacturers. Enough has been said to direct attention to the principle of the gun; as to the nature of the methods by which this principle is applied, we leave it for the reader to determine by experiment or professional opinion.

[graphic]
[graphic]

THE recent long duration of rain-storms which has so greatly injured the hay and corn crops will add an increased interest to all suggestions having in view even a partial or late remedy of the evil. As science is powerless to avert disasters of this nature, all the service that can be rendered must partake of the nature of a cure rather than prevention. It appears that this necessity has been felt also in England, and the English Mechanic notices one of these timely inventions as follows: "The unseasonable spring renders the prospects of a good hay-crop very problematical, and the recent heavy rains have done much to spoil what little grass there was to cut. The present seems, therefore, a favor able opportunity for calling attention to a method of making hay by means of artificial heat, recently introduced by Mr. Gibbs, of Chingford, Essex. The drier consists of a sheet-iron trough, six feet in breadth, and varying in length from twenty to sixty feetthe shorter length when mounted on wheels, as a portable machine; the longer when stationary, or as a fixture in a suitable house. The trough is raised slightly at one end, so as to form a moderately-inclined surface, down which the hay slides, being assisted in that motion by the reciprocating motion given to the trough. Running up the centre of the latter is a ridge of triangular section, with openings on each side at the base, through which the hot gases may pass into the grass, which is kept constantly stirred and lightened up by

means of a number of small iron stirrers, which imitate the action of the fork in the hands of a hay-maker. A stove constructed of iron plates supplies the heat, the gases being drawn from it by means of a fan, which drives them through the jacket surrounding the stove into the ridge, passing up the centre of the trough, the temperature attained being 500° Fahr. or thereabouts. The fan is driven by a belt from a portable engine, but may, of course, be worked by horse or manual labor where an engine is not at hand. The machine is not intended to supersede the old-fashioned plan, because the direct rays of the sun yield the cheapest heat extant, and combined with a drying wind will probably be found useful for many years, but is intended to be used in wet weather, in curing both fresh-cut grass and that which has been partially converted into hay. It is stated that grass can be cut, placed in the trough directly, and converted into the finest hay at once, at a cost of about two pounds per ton of hay made; but if the grass has been partially dried in the ordinary way and then wetted with rain, the hay can be saved at a cost of about eight shillings a ton-not a very serious item when compared with the pounds saved on the hay thus cured."

AN English journal, commenting upon the fact that machinery is now being applied to the manufacture of watches in France, gives the following brief sketch of one or two of the more ingenious machines now in use at the famous watch-manufactories at Waltham, Massachusetts. With regard to the common notched or cog wheels we learn that they are first stamped in outline from thin ribbons of metal. A number of the disks thus formed are threaded on a fine rod and clamped together. The bar thus formed is placed in the tooth-cutting machine, where a reciprocating knife cuts a groove in it; the bar is turned automatically a sixtieth or other portion of a turn, according to the number of teeth, and a second groove is cut; the process is then repeated till the required number of teeth is formed. For cutting the escapement-wheel, with its curiously-formed teeth, a more elaborate apparatus is required. Each tooth requires six cuts to finish it. For this purpose the little rod of steel disks is fixed diametri

cally across a circular plate, round the edge of which are six knives, each mounted so as to be capable of traversing across the plate. The rod is acted upon successively by these knives, it being turned radially so as to come opposite each in turn. When all six have operated, a single tooth is completed, and the rod is turned on its axis to present a fresh surface to the knives. This is continued till all the teeth are finished, when the apparatus is automatically thrown out of gear. The jewels

are cut, by saws of iron faced with diamonddust, into proper shapes, and drilled by a wire hair covered with diamond-dust, all by machines. Even the screws, of which two hundred and thirty are made from a thirteen-inch length of steel wire, the waste being more than the amount actually worked, are formed by a machine which makes the thread nuts off the screw, makes the slot in the head, and delivers the screw complete. About one hundred and fifty thousand of these screws go to the pound troy, so that the minuteness of the mechanism may be imagined. All the rest of the watch, except only the dial, is constructed by machines of equal delicacy. The dial has to be painted by hand, though it would seem as if so simple a printing operation ought to be done readily enough by mechanism.

THE success of the Merriman life-saving suit, as worn by Captain Boyton and recently described in these columns, has stimulated English inventors to effort in this field. We now learn from an exchange that a dress somewhat on the principle of Captain Boyton's has lately been invented by Mr. C. M. Lloyd. It is intended to be used in cases where, from expense or other causes, the more elaborate costume of Captain Boyton is not available. It consists of an ordinary coat fitted with receptacles, which can be readily inflated with air, but when empty presents no apparent difference from any other coat. This may be worn by itself as a preservative in case of accident, or, if put on with a pair of water-proof overalls, it serves as a Boyton dress. A somewhat more complicated apparatus is formed, like the bow and stern of a canoe, so that the wearer is practically supplied with a small canoe, which he can propel and direct with a paddle in the ordinary manner. An emigrant's bed is formed on a somewhat similar principle. The inventor has lately made some practical trials of his various appliances in the Thames, by going from Waterloo to Lambeth on them, and he states that he has spent as many as seven hours in the water thus dressed without suffering any inconvenience.

WHENEVER the lakes, mountains, or skies of Switzerland are visited by any unusual disturbance, the scientific world may rest assured that the phenomena will be made the subject of searching and thorough investigation. We are now informed that the extraordinary hail and thunder storms which preceded the recent disastrous floods in France extended over the city of Geneva. Here we learn that the phenomenon was more satisfactorily observed than elsewhere. At first the hailstones fell upon a belt about three miles in breadth, which belt increased in breadth toward the lake, where it was about nine miles wide. In a recent letter, M. Calladon states that hailstones weighing three hundred grammes each had been collected. The path of the storm will be investigated by the meteorological boards, and accurate maps prepared.

THE forthcoming Paris International Geographical Exhibition promises to prove a sucquiry and popular enlightenment and instruccess, both in the departments of scientific in

tion. It is announced that an immense number of photographs have been received from the English Palestine Exploration Fund, which will serve to illustrate, in a complete and graphic manner, the work already accomplished by the English explorers and engineers. The Russian and Austrian Governments have caused special and elegantly-fitted pavilions to be erected for their occupation as exhibition-rooms. Among the Danish contributions will be a complete collection of the dresses used by the natives of Greenland.

A NEW quality ascribed to ozone by M. Boillot is its bleaching power, as shown in the action of chlorine. Ozone, he says, employed directly acts as an oxidizing agent, daying hold of the hydrogen of the substance with which it is in contact. When chlorine is allowed to act on any vegetable or animal matter it decomposes a certain quantity of water, taking the hydrogen to form hydrochloric acid. The oxygen thus set free is changed to ozone, which in turn lays hold of the hydrogen in the organic matter, the result being a bleaching of the fabric.

HAVING observed that the discharge from a powerful electrical machine produced remark

able changes in the color of plants, M. Becquerel ascribes this result to the rupturing of the cells containing the coloring-matter. This opinion is sustained by the fact that when the cellular envelope is washed the leaf becomes white.

It may be of interest to our unprofessional readers to learn that, at the last meeting of the Göttingen Royal Society of Sciences, a paper was read by P. Ebell on "Mononitrobenzonaphtylamides, Dinitrobenzonaphtylamide, and their Derivatives."

Miscellany:

NOTEWORTHY THINGS GLEANED HERE AND THERE.

IT

has so often been argued that art is independent of morals, that a writer in Cornhill takes up this "pretentious fallacy," as he calls it, and discusses the question with no little acumen :

The duty of the moralist, it may be said, is to keep emotions under due restraint; the duty of the artist is to find them a voice and embody them in appropriate symbols. Since every emotion is right in its proper place, there is none which should be excluded from artistic utterance. We should know what all men think and have thought about themselves and the world; the skeptic and the believer, the enthusiast and the cynic, the man of strenuous ambition and the indolent epicurean, should each express himself in art and song. There is a time for all things; a time to be sad and a time to be merry; and, as in Mr. Tennyson's "Palace of Art," the imagination should contain a gallery hung round with pict

ures

fit for every mood of mind." To part of this doctrine we must emphatically demur. There are passions which ought to be suppressed, however little we may be inclined to the ascetic theory. The progress of the race is a process of eradicating brutalizing and antisocial instincts. He who keeps them alive is doing harm, and more harm if he has the talents of a Shakespeare, a Mozart, or a Raphael. There are sentiments which imply moral disease as distinctly as there are sensations which imply physical disease. Cynicism, and prurience, and a voluptuous delight in cruelty, are simply abominable, whoever expresses them, and however great his powers. Human nature, unluckily, is not all that could be wished. There are people to whom it is a pleasure to dwell upon foul and cruel impulses, who hate virtue, and therefore deny its existence. They are simply a nuisance; and, if they can't be stamped out by sterner measures, they should at least be kept in order by public opinion. The artist, it is often said, should not be condemned to write for school-girls. Certainly not; but to use such an argument on behalf of vice is simply to say that we ought all to get drunk because we are not all bound to retire to a cloister. "You," we say, "are a wretched debauchee." "Well," it is replied, "I can't be a milksop." There are, luckily, other alternatives. To the doctrine that novels should be written for men as well as school

girls we should add that there is only one class of human beings for whom they should not be written. That is the class who have become men, but have ceased to be manly. Nobody should compose poems for human beasts. Prudery is a bad thing; but there is something worse.

To leave that unpleasant topic, however, let us admit that, as a rule, all healthy phases of human feeling may be rightfully represented. Keats is not to be condemned because his poetry is the expression of a sensuous temperament. A keen delight in all external beauty of form and color, even the lower pleasures of the animal appetites, may be fitly expressed in art. We will not condemn the convivial poet who sang the praises of "jolly good ale and old; " we will continue to love our Burns, and Béranger, and Horace, and Herrick, epicureans though they may have been at times, and will agree with Sir Toby Belch that cakes and ale shall still be consumed, and ginger be hot in the mouth, though Malvolios may still exist in the world, and though Sir Wilfrid Lawson may propose to shut up all public-houses in the most genial and facetious terms. This is the doctrine which is really advocated by persons who deny the relations of art to morality, when that avowal is not meant to cover a cynical denial of all moral obligation. There is here a real difficulty upon some theories. We feel that, in spite of all his interpreters, it is hard to make Shakespeare a moralist. He is terribly tolerant to Falstaff and Sir Toby Belch. He does not turn round upon us to preach morality like a religious tract; and, indeed, we find it rather hard to extract any definite moral from his works. Nor is Keats, the great favorite of a modern school, very strong as a preacher. He is not one of the straight-laced; nor could any of his poems be read with good effect at a meeting of Messrs. Moody and Sankey. And yet we could not give up our Falstaff, or "Romeo and Juliet," or even the "Sonnets," or the "Ode to a Nightingale," or the "Eve of St. Agnes," at the bidding of any number of Moody and Sankeys. How can we justify our prejudices, or can they be justified, without admitting that the obligations of the moral law cease in the region of art, as the obligation of the fourth commandment is sometimes considered to be limited by the English Channel?

men lug in their morality rather awkwardly,
and forget that a poet is something different
from a preacher. That is a blunder in art;
but the blunder is, not that they moralized,
but that they moralized in a wrong way. In-
stead of leaving their readers to be affected by
the morality which permeated the whole struct-
ure and substance of their poetry, they chose
to extract little nuggets of moral platitudes,
and so far failed, because taking the most ob-
vious but least effective mode of preaching.

The conclusion of the article is as fol-
lows:

The poet and the great artist of every kind partly expresses his own sentiments, and is partly the mouth-piece of the social order of which he forms a part. The greatest art is only produced in periods when some strong intellectual or social impulse is stirring the foundations of the established order. That, as all admit, was the explanation in general terms of the poetic outbursts in the Elizabethan and revolutionary periods. So far, then, as the art is the imaginative projection of the great forces which are renovating or developing society, whether the forces be intellectual or social, it is healthy and admirable. A delight in the beauty of human beings or external Nature is in itself a healthy sentiment, though it may be accidentally associated with baser elements. So far as the poet is himself a man of healthy nature and powerful mind, he will be qualified to act as a mouth-piece of the forces which make for good, and to intensify their action. He may be imbittered by the difference between his ideal and the actual; his love of beauty or his strong capacity for pleasure may partially pervert his character; and he may be himself utterly unconscious of any thing beyond his immediate purpose of expressing overpowering emotions. Many sickly and wrong-minded and immoral men may unknowingly cooperate with the powers of good. But whatever is morbid in them is so far a disadvantage, though it may be a collateral result from the excessive development of certain natural gifts.

Let us first get rid of one or two confusing associations. The theory, as thus stated, does not assert that art should never be moral, but We need not, then, ask in all cases wheththat this is an artistic sphere which lies, so to er a poet or a poem is moral, only because we speak, outside of morality. If the poetry of have to ask a wider question. Is it, on the Keats were directly demoralizing, it would be whole, an expression of sentiments developed condemned by our previous statements. The by the invigorating and regenerating proallegation is, in fact, that it is neither moral cesses? Morality, on one side at least, is nor immoral. Richly colored in an artistic nothing but the system of rules laid down to sense, it is of a neutral tint in an ethical sense. secure the healthy growth of the social orKeats introduces us to a region where we do ganism. Every impulse which comes into not deny the advantages of virtue, but simply conflict with these rules must therefore of forget that such things as vice and virtue ex- necessity be pernicious and morbid. No posist. But to limit art to this sphere would be sible cxcuse can be valid for transgressing as narrow-minded as to exclude it. If the ar- them. But the rules generally express the tist should express every sentiment, he cer- negative conditions, and are necessarily limittainly should not omit the noblest. He should ed in their scope, because in many cases the provide utterance for the heroic, the patriotic, instincts are a better guide than a tabulated the social, and the religious, or his field will series of rigid directions. We do not think be limited indeed. Dante, one may assume, it necessary to order a man to eat when he is was a moralist; or, to confine ourselves to hungry; and we leave him to choose of two English literature, men like Milton, and harmless pleasures that which he sincerely Wordsworth, and Cowper, were moralists; prefers. Poetry, therefore, which is capable nobody can love Scott who does not assimi- of expressing all human emotions, very often late his most manly morality. All our great expresses them in cases where no moral rule novelists, indeed, were moralists. "Richard- can be applied. We may, in that sense, say son," says old Johnson, "taught the passions that it may and ought to be extra-moral, to move at the command of virtue." Fielding though not immoral. But in every case, withcan scarcely tell his story sometimes for mor- out exception, it should stimulate the healthy, alizing; and Dickens is perhaps too deliber- not the morbid emotions; and, in that sense, ately moral. Pope was almost exclusively a all art and poetry should be moral and even moralist; and Pope's boast that he "moral-didactic, though it generally sets before us ized his song" is adopted verbally from Spenser, whose great poem is formally intended to be an ethical treatise. Some of these great

symbols of the innocent and ennobling senti-
ments instead of formally deducing them
from logical axioms. Novels with a purpose

are proverbially detestable, for a novel with a purpose means a book setting forth that a villain is hanged and a good man presented with a thousand pounds-that is silly and really immoral; for, in the first place, the imaginary event is no guarantee for the real event; secondly, a particular case does not prove a rule; thirdly, it is not true that virtue is always rewarded and vice punished; and fourthly, virtue should not be inculcated with a simple view to money or the gallows. But even a novel should have a ruling thought, though it should not degenerate into a tract; and the thought should be one which will help to purify and sustain the mind by which it is assimilated, and therefore tend to make society so far healthier and happier.

THE papers in Blackwood entitled "The Abode of Snow" conclude in the July number with a description of the "Afghan Border." The writer gives a graphic picture of the Afghans, which we copy:

I had made a good deal of acquaintance with Afghans before this journey, and must say a word in regard to their character. They are a very strange mixture of heroism and cowardice, fidelity and treachery, kindness and cruelty, magnanimity and meanness, highsounding morality and unspeakably atrocious viciousness. Though their language affords no countenance to their own belief that they are sons of Israel, and the linguist scoffs at this supposition in his usual manner, I think there is something in it. In physical appearance and in character they resemble the Hebrews of history; and it is unscientific, in judging of the origin of a people, to place exclusive reliance on one particular, such as language. Much meditation over this subject has also convinced me that our modern writers are far too much given to drawing hard and fast lines when treating of ethnology. They get hold of a race or a nation somewhere in the past, and virtually, indeed often unconsciously, assume that it has become stereotyped for all time, leaving out of mind that circumstances similar to those which form a race are continually modifying its peculiarities. As to the Afghans, I deem it likely that there is some truth in all the theories which have been started as to their origin. They are probably partly Semitic, partly Aryan, partly Asiatic, and partly European. There is nothing improbable in the supposition that their Hebrew blood has been mingled with that of the soldiers of Alexander the Great and of the Greek colonists of the Græco-Bactrian kingdoms, and also of the Asiatic Albanians, who were driven across Persia. The Indo-Bactrians, again, may have modified the race; and this theory of a composite origin affords some explanation of the inconsistencies of the Afghan character.

Afghan history is a dreadful story of cruelty, faithlessness, perfidy, and treachery. Though they may understand the matter among themselves, yet it is impossible for the European to draw any line within which the Patháns may be trusted. The tomb of Cain is said to be in Cabool, and the popular belief is that the devil fell there when he was thrown out of heaven. These are the views of the Afghans themselves, and a double portion of the spirit of Cain seems to have descended upon them. In one small village through which I passed, there had been twelve secret assassinations within nine months. Among these people you have perpetually-recurring

« AnkstesnisTęsti »