« הקודםהמשך »
at any other time the melancholy prince. WHEN, about a month ago, the Boston
After closely watching a performance of ments wben something like an iv ward light | sopbical writers as W. R. Greg quote largely “ Hamlet” through three acts, very little re- gleams through his face, and for an instant and with the familiarity of old acquaintance mains to be commented upon, and nothing the true Hamlet stands transfigured before from Milnes, which shows that in England the likely to throw any further light upon the These flashes of feeling and expression poet is known and appreciated in the right subject. The actor has very little to do in are momentary, and they do not commonly direction. In Greg's · Enigmas of Life" we the fourth act, and this little Mr. Booth does come when the eager listener longs to see him find Milnes well represented in the fine rewith an adequate mastery of the situation. break tbrough a hard and uninspired deliv. gions of speculative philosophy in such lines Whether Hamlet here is really distraught, or ery. These instances are all we can discern as these: only assuming madness, can scarcely affect of that magnetism which so many people
“ Happy the man to whom life displays the actor's rendition, for the seeming is as find in Mr. Booth's acting-people who as- Only the flaunting of its tulip-flower; patent as reality. How merely assumed in- sert that his voice thrills and his passion Whose minds have never bent to scrutinize
Into the maddening riddle of the root, sanity could so readily fall into the purposes completely dominates them. As a rule, we
Shell within shell, dream folded over dream. of the king is to us wholly inexplicable. It for our part feel no such fire; we catch from is true that Hamlet imagines that he compre- him but little inspiration, and are subdued Then, again, Mr. Greg quotes this strong hends the situation, and promises that the by no divine rage.
verse from Milnes's “ Combat of Life:" "engineer shall be hoist with his own petard;”. And yet, with all the defects and deficien- " Yet there are some to whom a strength is given, but this is all wild talk; he has no plans in cies of Mr. Booth's Hamlet that we can enu. A will, a self-constraining energy, contemplation; and the fact that, after hav. merate, we must acknowledge that at present
A faith that feeds upon no earthly hope,
Which never thinks of victory, combating ing fully fastened upon the king the guilt of it is the best on the American if not on the
Because it ought to combat, his father's murder, he should at once aban- whole English-speaking stage.
And, conscious that to find in martyrdom don the field and hie away to England, seems
The stamp and signet of most perfect life
Is all the science that mankind can reach, to us proof conclusive of a disordered mind. In the grave-scene, at the opening of the
Rejoicing fights, and still rejoicing falls." fifth act, Mr. Booth appears to advantage.
This is enough to show how valuable the His dress is picturesque; he looks more than
poet is to the philosophers, and in what strain
his mind is set. But there is also another
newspapers announced that Lord There is too often in his personation a cerHoughton was the guest of Mr. Charles Eliot
side—a side so sympathetically human that tain lack of dignity. We do not ask for a Norton in Cambridge, few persons seemed to
we might well wonder that he was not acHamlet that struts and carries his nose in be aware that Baron Houghton was the title
counted by “the pecple" as their special the air, but sometimes Mr. Booth seems to us of Richard Monckton Milnes ;* and fewer still singer, if we did not know that it is only lacking somewhat in the presence and car- that Richard Monckton Milnes was one of the the cultivated person who can thoroughly riage that becomes a great prince. In the most delicate and humanly philosophical of
appreciate the healthy balance of expression, grave - scene the gravity, dignity, presence, England's poets. It is scarcely a solution of
which is the medium through which the eduand manner, are all good. The encounter
cated mind makes itself heard. And to the this enigma to say that Lord Houghton has with Laertes is well managed, and the bit of written but little verse for the last dozen
uncultivated this balance seems coldness, rantyears or so, because we are at once con
however sympathetic it may really be. Yet " And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw fronted with the fact that, even at the date
it is such thinkers as Richard Monckton Millions of acres on us, till our ground, of his fullest poetic production, he was lit
Milnes who are the real friends of the poor Singeing his pate against the burning zone, tle known in this country. And yet there
and suffering. Let us look a moment at this Make Ossa like a wart!" are lines of his that are familiar to most
great peer's history up to the present time, was uttered simply as rant, with unimpeach. readers of poetry. That most exquisite
and see what claims he has, by something able discretion. rendering of an almost universal belief in the
more than poetic expression, to be called a The fifth act, in fact, goes along prosper. value of love above every thing, which has
friend of humanity. “ Born in the purple' ously until the last scene, when occurs the been often quoted and has so familiar a ring
as he was, he became at once, upon entering fencing-bout with Laertes. Here Mr. Booth that when we hear it we cannot remember
Parliament, an active worker and sympathizer seems to us wholly at fault. He introduces a the time when it first greeted us, is his:
with all the just and liberal measures of his deal of fantastic nonsense in the fencing busi
day, often distancing his colleagles in these
“ He who for Love has undergone ness, and seems to forget that he is both a
sympathies, and at one time hazarding his
The worst that can befall, prince and Hamlet, about whose heart still
Is happier thousand-fold than one
seat by the unflinching integrity of his purclings an oppressive sadness. The childish
Who never loved at all;
pose. The reform of England's penal insti. play introduced here can hardly be witnessed
A grace within his soul has reigned
tutions was one of the earliest objects of his
Which nothing else can bringwith patience. So unbecoming is it to the
interest and endeavor. In this he did great
Thank God for all that I have gained character of Hamlet, that we must urge Mr.
By that high offering!”
and praiseworthy service. He also, through Booth to conduct the encounter with Laertes
these large human interests and sympathies,
And, familiarly as this rings, I have never in some sort of accordance with likelihood
worked to such effect that he brought in the met but a few students of poetry who could and reason. give the author, when the lines were quoted. reformatories, and is himself the president
first bill for the establishment of juvenile It must be conceded that Mr. Booth has
Perhaps it is too much to say that this verse banished from his personation almost all
of the great reformatory establishment of is often quoted. It would fit the fact better traces of rant and false theatrical methods.
that kind at Red Hill. It was amid such
say that its sentiment is often quoted, with If he could free himself from that inflexible
occupations that he learned to write poems, no real knowledge of its complete source. and unintelligent level delivery that he so
which contained such lines as these : And this points to the special peculiarity of frequently falls into, and which we have reMonckton Milnes's verse. It leaves the haunt.
.... but when peatedly mentioned, his style would be quite ing impression constantly that it is really a
The tortures of any brother men,
The famine of gray hairs, pure. Occasionally he permits his desire for naturalness to seduce him into undignified according to so high an authority as Mr. Emerpart of our own thought, which peculiarity is,
The sick-beds of the poor,
Life's daily, stinging cares, and familiar colloquialisms, but this fault may
That crowd the proudest door, son, one of the proofs of genius. Such philobe forgiven in one who has done so much to
The tombs of the long-loved, rid his style of the strut, pomp, and sound.
The slowly broken heart, * It seems to us that our contributor underrates
Self-gloated power unmoved ing declamation of the traditional stage. public intelligence in this matter. There are, it is
By pity's tenderest art, One element in his performance occasion- true, an immense number of people who are never
Come thronging thick about me, ally reveals itself that is difficult to catch and aware of any thing; but of those who are ac
Close in the world without me, difficult to describe. We think that he does quainted with the poetry of Richard Monckton
How should I not despond ?" Mildes are there any who do not know the poet's not illuminate or throw fresh and suggestive recent rank and title as Lord Iloughton ?-ED. JOUR
In a poem called “The Curse of Life," we meaning into the language, but there are mo
find with what pain this earnest spirit fed all
A LATE number of the Academy contain
his sympathies. Ilow little he shirked the darker 'paths of life, whose own path, by birthright, lay on the sunny uplands, he shows very clearly when he says“Knowledge worn by sadness
Grows too faint to riseAnguish fathers madness
Labor brutities :
If high feelings live, the man a martyr dies." The tenderness and faith in his poem of “Sorrow," beginning
* Sister Sorrow! sit beside me,
Or, if I must wander, guide me"is only another indication of his temper of thought. And in such verses as“In the green bud's bosom
There is secret grain;
Waters weep that seem to sing a happy strain"there is that haunting ring, both in thought and expression, I have spoken of before, and which marks his deep-veined humanity and sympathetic sense. So also in* A man's best things are nearest him,
Lie close about his feet;
That we are sick to greet;
We struggle and aspire-
The air of fresh desire." There is a certain Wordsworthian simplicity in some of these forms of expression, and, in comparison with Matthew Arnold's air of cold distinction, and the passionate fervor and grace of some other of our modern poets, they might seem at times commonplace. But, without going into the range of real criticism here, it will be enough to say
disappointment in the incompleteness of his story.
EDITOR'S TABLE. Lord Houghton is now sixty-six years of age, though those who saw the small, active man who was strolling about Cambridge a
a communication on the subject of few weeks ago, with Longfellow and others of that circle, would not have guessed that
Painting in America,” in which is observable be was beyond sisty, of the simplest and
that splenetic deterroination to misrepresent most unpretending manners and exterior, nei. which is so characteristic of English criti. ther would the ordinary observer have guessed | cism of American affairs. This article deals that this small, active man was of any dis.
mainly with the recent exhibitions of painttinction. As one catches a glance, however, ings and works of art in Chicago and Cincinfrom the fine, kindly eyes, which seem to lose nothing, one cannot belp recalling Burns's
nati. It begins by sneering at an American famous line
critic because he classified Corot, Coomans,
Fortuny, Greuze, Bouguereau, Alma-Tadema, " A chiel's amang ye takin' notes."
and Zamacoïs, among the great artists of But we need have little fear of the nature of these “notes." The same just spirit which
the world—meaning, obviously, modern arestimated that stormy riddle Landor with
tists. If Corot, Fortuny, Alma-Tadema, and such clear accuracy will scarcely fail to do Zamacoïs, do not rank among the great arsuch justice, even in his own mind, as will tists of the period, one can but wonder who hardly offend the most touchy and sensitive does. Is the Academy critic inflamed be American. Lord Houghton very evidently cause the name of no English artist appears comes to see, and not to be seen; but it is a
in this list? Or is he simply bound, rightly great pity that the few who have known and appreciated his verse here could not more
or wrongly, to imply ignorance to the Amerireadily come in contact with him. In view
can writer, and, in order do so, forces the of the many Englishmen, however, who have sentence quoted into a meaning not interdtaken advantage of our lyceum field for their ed? Had it been claimed that the exhibi. own purposes without regard to their own
tions described contained specimens of all ability in that field, we have need to be grate
the modern great artists, there would have ful for this simple, and friendly, and respect
been ground for censure. ful visit.
As it is, the sneer NORA PERRY. of the Englishman was wholly gratuitous.
Our English censor goes on to say that
“good art, in spite of the many recent purCOUNTING THE GRAVES.
chases by American gentlemen, is still very
rarely seen in America." Now, it is true OW many graves are in this world ?"
that we have few examples of the old masHis mother answered, “surely there are ters, but our people have opportunities to two."
see a great deal of the best current Conti. Archly he shook his pretty head and smiled : "I mean in this whole world, you know I
nental art. There are not so many speci. do!"
mens here of current English work as we "Well, then, in this whole world, in East and could wish; but every American at all studi. West,
ous in this direction, and not living too far In North and South, in dew and sand and snow,
from the great cities, may make himself acIn all sad places where the dead may rest, There are two graves-yes, there are two, I quainted with the productions of nearly erknow."
ery great foreign artist of the period, and "But graves have been here for a thousand
see besides something of the old art, by years
means of public collections and such private Or for ten thousand ? Soldiers die, and
are made accessible to students. kings, And Christians die--sometimes.” “My own There are not nearly so many pictures in
poor tears Have never yet been troubled by these
America as in Europe; there is a great deal, things.
indeed, to be seen in the churches and gal. “ More graves within the hollow ground, in
leries abroad which must be studied by every sooth,
one desirous of a thorough art-culture; but Than there are stars in all the pleasant sky?
the extensive purchase abroad of works by Where did you ever learn such dreary truth, modern artists for this country is proof that Oh, wiser and less selfish far than I ?
we are not nearly so much in the dark as is “I did not know-I who had light and breath, supposed. Something to touch, to look at, if no more.
But is it certain that we may not know Fair earth to live in, who believe in death, Till, dumb and blind, he lies at their own something of good art without depending at door?
all upon foreign productions The Academy “I did not know-I may have heard or read critic says it is astonishing how little is Of more, But, should I search the wide grass through,
known of American art in England. Are we Lift every flower and every thorn,” she said, to assume that America is to blame for this! “From every grave-oh, I sliould see but two!"
Has England exbibited the slightest interest Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt. in American art, or shown any disposition to
and, with his natural tendencies in that dires
tion, if he sometimes sacrifice grace and fervor, it is with no lack of knowledge or appreciation, or, in fact, of inherent poetic fire, but a matter of choice and taste, which chooses even severity of style to redundance.
Lord Houghton's latest book is a prose collection of reminiscences of famous people, called “Monographs, Personal and Social.” This is much better known in this country than his poems, though of course it is mainly valuable for the accounts it gives of distin. guished persons, as with great reserve and modesty the author keeps himself entirely in the background-80 entirely that we perceive at once that the monographs are of less interest for that very reason. The almost af. fectionate appreciation with which he tells the story of Suleiman Pasha's life shows how warm was his friendship for that most interesting of men, and how much we lose by the reserve which omits all personal history. And so, of Walter Savage Landor, we get such truthful glimpses in such even and just estimates that we regret there could not have been fuller revelation. The friend of Landor, of Sydney Smith, of Heinrich Heine, and Suleiman Pasha, Lord Houghton in these recollections of them evinces in what he has left uns:id the same peculiar delicacy and deference of mind which is perceivable in his verse. Our estimate of and respect for this deferential narrator are, of course, heightened by this, while at the same time we acknowledge
do justice to it ? It has been pleased to sistency that is the true jewel. Inconsisten- for his duties, and the right to occasions of stare with wonder at Bierstadt's huge can- cy, so called, gives freedom of soul, largeness undisturbed rest. We learn that Mr. Hervases; but bas it cared to enter into the of taste and appreciation, breadth of sympa- bert Spencer has been compelled to anspirit and study the methods of those of our thy; it makes one, in fact, catholic and many- nounce, by a lithographic circular, that he landscapists who in truth are representatives sided. Consistency is plodding and dull, is so deeply engaged in his special studies he of our genius? Has it given any heed to wbile Inconsistency is bright, fancisul, in- can no longer answer inquiries, requests for Inness, to Gifford, to Kensett, to McEntee, to ventive, speculative, courageous, not afraid autographs, and other demands of the kind these and others, who have gone reverently to say yes to-day because it said no last week. made upon him. Mr. Beecher would be wise into our hills and our valleys, and striven to But, while uttering this defense of incon. to follow this example ; and it would be well put themselves at one with Nature, to catch sistency, we are all the time virtuously con- if this circular gave a sharp lesson to those her spirit and reproduce her moods ? Our scious of committing no such captivating who know so little what is due to busy men. critic declares that no American school of art sin. The people have not taken up our no- While on this topic we may ask whether has yet been formed. This is a mistake. In tion of aërial gardens. No one in obedience postal-cards have not now been long enough landscape-art American artists have founded to our proposal has inclosed his roof-top and in use to admit of an inquiry as to the nature a very great school-the school of Truth. converted this vacant space into blooming of the courtesies and social laws that do or They have learned something that noted parterres ; no vines cluster about our town. should pertain to them? It may be asked echools and academies have to teach; but chimneys, nor festoon the cornices of our whether people are under any obligations to they have learned to reject the absolute buildings. Our suggestion fell upon a heed- respond to an open letter of the nature of a tutelage of any faction, guild, or set, and less world. Like many other great thoughts, postal - card ? Could one acknowledge a to obey only the behests of the supreme it was ushered prematurely into being before postal-card as an "esteemed favor ?" If master, Nature. The earnestness, the fidel- the taste of the public could aspire so high | the postal card be purely on the business of ity, the simplicity, the severe honesty, that -ere æsthetic imagination is competent to the writer, what notice must the recipient are manifest in the better productions of reach an altitude so lofty. The people, cling. take of the fact that no stamp is inclosed American landscape - painters we claim ing to their dull experience, have refused to for postage on the reply? One sees some nothing for our art in other directions are believe that one may enjoy his otium cum dig- | really Napoleonic strokes of meanness as such as to enable our people to see at least nitate on the roof-top, amid flowers and under the outcome of the postal-card system. The a little of good art, and a very pure, truth. bowers, amid the vine and the pine, where audacity is sometimes superb. A writer ful, beautiful art it is.
airs are pure and cool, where dust comes saves a sheet of paper, an envelope, a stamp
not, where the sound of the hand-organ is for postage, and also the usual stamp for reWe have the following from a correspond. mellowed to strains of distant sweetness, turn-postage-all by one dexterous postalent at Baltimore:
and the cares and vexations of a wicked world card. The spirit of economy could no far“ Mr. Editor: I am one of your readers
are put under our feet. Refusing to be thus ther go. But really, what rights in courtesy who smiled' when he read your article on the elevated into a region of æsthetic delight, the have letter-writers who do not consider their architectural elevation of the domestic kitch
next thing is to see whether their obstinate correspondents of importance enough to give en, a recommendation which may by-and-by be adopted. 'By-and-by' is easily said, and,
natures are insensible to every wise and en- their epistles to them the poor compliment of as you suggest, we will wait and see.' Mean- | nobling suggestion—whether they will con. an inclosure? How is a communication to be time, permit me to explain why I smiled by sent to remove the kitchen and its odors to entertained when the writer confesses by the propounding the following question: What is to become of those aërial gardens which you
the regions above, and convert the desolate postal-card that it isn't worth a sheet of paproposed some time ago should be adopted for premises which their rear-windows now dis. per and a postage-stamp ? That the postalthe adornment of our house-tops if we are to mally survey, into places of charm and ele- card is very useful for circular notes, for an. reflect dow upon elevating the culinary de
gance. While it may be true that a house- nouncements, for communicating any simple partment, with Sarah, “Sarah's young man,' and all, to the prophesied locality of the aërial
bolder cannot practically adopt both of our fact that does not call for a responge, no one garden? But, as Johnson tells us in his dic- suggestions, he can at least entertain one of can deny. But we submit that social custom tionary that the garret is the top room of a them; and no ove ought to object because he ought to establish that a missive of this house, and that the cockloft is the room over
has the opportunity to choose one of two kind calling for a response, excepting on the garret, perhaps we can have kitchen and garden on the house-top, and thus have both good things.
business matters concerning the recipient, is prophecies fulfilled. We will wait and see.'
an impertinence; and that a postal - card, “ C. H. M."
Mr. Beecher takes up the question, in the partaking of the nature of correspondence This correspondent is too hard upon us.
to He is evidently one of those persons who answer, or not to answer,' every idle query respect or consideration whatsoever. think consistency a great virtue, and that no that idle persons may choose to ask—whethright-minded individual could possibly en- a man has no rights which letter-writ- It must be confessed that when Turkey tertain two ideas apparently in conflict. But ers are bound to respect, or if his time and repudiates her debts, and at the same time we, for our part, refuse to be bound down by ink are at the absolute control of every man admits her inability to subdue the belligerent any such narrow restrictions. If to-day we or child among forty millions of people discontent of her Christian provinces, the like the idea of aërial gardens, we mean to who chooses to ask questions, beg favors, situation in Europe has become grave. There be true to our impressions of the moment, seek money, give advice ?" Men of note is evidently a vague apprehension of war in and advocate the construction of parterres are in truth so pestered with impudent and the European courts. Mr. Disraeli rather of flowers on the roof-top; if to-morrow we idle inquiries and requests, that it is practi- | emphasizes than dispels it by his Mansion become enamored of the notion of lifting the cably impossible to respond to them. A man House speech ; while the danger is undoubtkitchen to the topmost story - where may cannot ignore the courtesies of life, but then edly aggravated by the fact that every great the dishes have a true attic flavor-we shall he has a few rights which foolish people power stands at this moment armed to the not be restrained in our admiration of this should not be permitted to deprive him of, teeth, and ready to assume at once, or in a idea by any thing said before. It is incon- and among these is the right to his own time I brief time, the full panoply of war.
boulevards. Not long since an old beggar JOAQ
cannot think that some of them at least will bowled down the Champs-Elysées in her car. |
COAQUIN MILLER'S faults as an artist
are so flagrant, and lie so near the surtrying for years to extricate herself from any ged person was found a memorandum-book,
face, that it is not surprising that they bare
obscured his real merit and challenged the involvement in Continental troubles, and to in which were jotted down the days when it
attention of the critics. Nevertheless, while confine herself to the pursuit of commerce. was most profitable to apply to certain per
the excuse is obvious, we think that Mr. Mil. That she will go to war the moment India is sons—such as birthdays, rent-days, the occa- ler has received less than justice, especially threatened by the attempted possession of sion of a marriage in the family, the receipt among his own countrymen. For, in spite Constantinople by Russia is highly probable; of an unexpected legacy. The pretexts of of all his faults, he possesses some genuine but she will first use every art of diplomacy the Paris beggar are innumerable. He sells
poetic qualities. For one thing, his voice is to avert that evil. France does not want matches, he waits on susceptible ladies in
his own; his themes, thoughts, and illustra.
tions, are not echoes of a library, but are war; peace for years to come seems to be threadbare broadcloth, having seen “better
drawn from his own experience and observaher only hope of resuming her former place days," or come to penury through disappoint- tion; and his verse is no mere structure of among the powers. Austria is inveterately ed love and consequent dissipation ; he sits rhythm and rhyme, but spontaneous, natural weak, for Francis Joseph rules over a poly- on curbstones groaning, with bandaged arm singing. Notwithstanding much that was glot and inharmonious empire, in which there or head; while young girls use every art
false in sentiment, tawdry in conception, and are at least three races whose interests are of feminine timidity and beauty to compel
crude in style, the “Songs of the Sierras"
contained some true poetry, and poetry of an in conflict-the Germans, the Slaves, and the the compassionate franc or two-sous piece. original and vigorous type. The “Songs of Magyars. She is only solvent, and no more; Hitherto even the well-executed laws of the
the Sun-Lands" displayed the same quali. and she dreads the power of Prussia with an Second Empire, followed by those of "the ties, and seemed to indicate that culture and almost superstitious terror. Italy would only state of siege," have not even availed to de- wider experience were exercising their propenter upon hostilities under compulsion, nor crease the army of beggardom; and we can
er chastening influence upon the poet's art. could she gain from it anything but an not wonder that M. le Préfet is in despair.
We were among those who believed that Mr.
Miller's merits were of a kind likely to be ephemeral alliance which the next crisis
developed, and his faults of a kind likely to might dissolve and leave her helpless. Be.
be outgrown; and we felt tolerably confifore there is a war, these powers will, with
ST. PETERSBURG presents many anomalies
dent that he would in time produce work out doubt, use every effort to avert it. Yet,
in regard to its population. It appears by that would compel recognition. It is with if the military ambition of Russia and Ger- recent returns that the Russian capital has no slight sense of disappointment, therefore, many insists upon solving the Turkish quesgrown more rapidly than any other city in Eu
that we confess that his latest book, " The tion in a sense favorable to themselves, it is rope. It is much younger than London, Paris, Ship in the Desert ” (Boston : Roberts Bros.h
is so distinctly inferior as almost to justify difficult to see how the other powers can Berlin, Vienna, or Constantinople; has grown
whatever has been said in his dispraise. keep out, or how a general war can be preup from a little provincial town in Peter the
“ The Ship in the Desert " sins in nearly vented. Germany has no direct interest in Great's time to be a city of rather more than every possible way. In the first place, the the suggested partition of Turkey should Tur- seven hundred thousand inhabitants in less author proclaims at the start, with a sort of key collapse ; but she is the close ally of Rus. than two centuries. Singularly enough, the contemptuous candor, that it is not the kind sia, and would be likely to derive from war deaths in St. Petersburg exceed the births,
of work he would be at, but was written
merely as a concession to“ the world," which, some advantage in Northern Europe by the which shows conclusively that its growth in
“ like a spoiled child, demands a tale." So annexation of Holland, Belgium, or Den
population arises from the rapid aggregation anxious is he to have this condescension upmark, or all three ; for upon those countries of rustic Russians at the capital. Another cu. derstood that, after calling attention to it she looks with covetous eyes.
riosity of its census is, that the greatest mor- once in his preface, he goes out of his way
tality, excepting with young children, occurs to weave it into his verse, where it cannot be TOURists from time immemorial have been
overlooked : at a period of life when there is least morin the habit of grumbling about the number tality in other cities—that is, between the * The world's cold commerce of to-day
Demands some idle, flippant theme; and persistency of Paris beggars; and, indeed, ages of sixteen and thirty-five. St. Peters.
And I, your minstrel, must sit by one of the most striking contrasts between the burg has a trying climate, and it seems to act And harp along the edge of mora, Old World and the New consists in the mendi- most violently on adolescence and younger
And sing and celebrate to please
The multitude, the mob, and these city of the former and the absence of it here.) manhood. Otherwise, it is one of the least They know not pearls from yellow com." That the complaint has considerable basis healthy and comfortable of cities for the
Now, whatever Mr. Miller's real merits 15 A may be known by the recent report of the poorer classes, who are jumbled together in
poet may be, he certainly has not attained a Paris Prefect of Police, who, having counted damp and ill-ventilated houses, while a large position which entitles him to look down, is the beggars who defy the Code Napoléon and proportion actually live in cellars reeking from a lofty pedestal, upou a suppliant world the gendarmerie within his jurisdiction, finds with damp and filth. One-fourth of all the craving the bounty of his speech. Waiving that there are between sixty and seventy children born in St. Petersburg are illegiti- world is listening, we are certainly entitled
this point, however, and conceding that the thousand of them. Beggary in Paris, too, is mate; and something like one-half of these
to assume that, if it demands a tale, it wants not a mere desperate makeshift for sheer ex- die in infancy. Thus, though the capital of one which should at least be intelligible istence; it is il craft, a profession, with its the czars presents at first view the appear- and interesting. If so, the demand has not apprenticeships, its graduations, and its cun- ance of prosperity and growth, it is delusive ; yet been supplied. Mr. Miller's present tale ning and enterprising expedients. Only the and, when we come to examine the condition
reminds us of notiing so much as of the other day a Paris beggar died at Passy worth of its population, we find them to be even
manuscript of a "novel ” which once came
under our notice. It was written by a miss, a hundred thousand francs. Some years ago worse than those of the much and justly de
scarcely more than a child, and, while it conan elderly lady with gray curls, attired in cried slums of London, Paris, and Constanti. tained some really felicitous bits, the young silk and diamonds, was pointed out, as she I nople.
author had quite forgotten that men must
ent, drink, sleep, and rest. From the begin The rains, the elements, and all
pages teem with accounts of hair-breadth es. ning to the end of the story her characters
The moving things that bring decay
capes and dangerous achievements. were kept in a perpetual movement, which
By fair green lands or fairer seas,
While searching for Lake Ngami, Anders
Had touched not here for centuries. would not have given time even for a surrep.
son had heard rumors among the natives of titious biscuit. Aud this is literally and truly
"Lo! Date had lost all reckoning,
a great river (the Kunene or Cunene) lying
And Time had long forgotten all, the case with “ The Ship in the Desert.” Its
In this lost land, and no new thing
far to the north; and the discovery of this subject is the pursuit of one party of men by Or old could any wise befall,
river was henceforth the main object of his another across the great deserts of the West, Or morrows, or a yesterday,
life. Returning to Otjimbingue, in Namaquafrom the Missouri River to far beyond the
For Time went by the other way.
land, in 1858, he immediately organized a Rocky Mountains—the flight of the one and
"The ages have not any course
caravan and struck northward. After in the pursuit by the other remaining entirely
Across this untracked waste.
credible dangers and difficulties he reached inexplicable from first to last; and, for all
Wears here one blue, unbending hue,
the banks of a previously-unknown river, the of human interest or incident pertaining to The heavens one unchanging mood.
Okavango; but scarcely had he entered upon them, they might as well have been a proces- The far, still stars they filter through
its exploration when he and five or six of his sion of clouds. On and on, day and night
The heavens, falling bright and bold
men were prostrated with fever, and, after
Against the sands as beams of gold. and night and day, over withered wilder
The wide, white moon forgets her force ;
waiting an entire month in the vain hope of ness, across mighty rivers, up rocky steeps, The very sun rides round and high,
getting better, he was compelled to turn back down precipitous paths, and across trackless As if to sbun this solitude."
as the only means of saving his life. A nar. deserts, pushes the black cavalcade of Mor.
One characteristic of all Mr. Miller's po
rative of this expedition was published in gan toward the most western West; and, etry is especially conspicuous in the present
London in 1861, under the title of “The equally released from the limitations of hu
volume — namely, his fondness for certain Okavango River,” a book scarcely less inman powers, follows the fierce pursuit of
epithets that happen to catch his fancy. teresting than the author's first. Vasques. Even delicate, fragile Ina knows This time it is “ black" and “blowy,” and
The last of these books was published nothing of hunger, thirst, or fatigue, during he frequently manages to use one or the oth
many years ago; but the record of Anders. an apparently continuous ride of more than er of them two or three times in a single sen
son's life is only now completed from the three thousand miles. The truth is, Mr. Miltence. For instance:
point where it there left off, by the publicaler carefully avoids introducing any element
tion of a work compiled partly from some of realism into his story, which is
"And only black men gathered there,
“Notes of Travel ” which he left in an un
The old man's slaves, in dull content, thread on which to hang descriptions of
finished state, and partly from his “Jour
Black, silent, and obedient." natural scenery. It would be a libel on the
From it we learn the details of theatre to describe his personages as
In conclusion, we may say that it is genu- Andersson's career after his return to Africa atric;" for even Pantaloon and Clown are ine friendliness for Mr. Miller that induces us as the agent of the Walwich Bay Mining quite plausible creations in comparison with to hope that he will not give us another such Company, whose establishment he subseMorgan and Vasques. As to Ina, Mr. Miller volume as “The Ship in the Desert,” even in quently bought out and converted into a has never yet seen a woman with the naked response to the spoiled child's demand for a
trading-station on his own account, and there eye. tale.
remained until his death, which occurred durIf the conception is bad, the verse does
ing an expedition in search of the long-sought not redeem it. A single measure is adhered CARL JOHANN ANDERSSON failed to link Cunene River. In this expedition he actually to throughout, and at length becomes mo- his name with any great geograpbical dis- reached the banks of the fatal stream; but notonous and even wenrisome. It would covery, but it is doubtful if any man, even tbe hand of death was even then upon him, seem, too, at times, as if Mr. Miller had tried in the noble army of African explorers, ever and he turned back only to die in the wil. to render his style “rugged," and there are devoted himself with more unselfish and in- derness, with all his plans unaccomplished. many long passages in which, to quote Haz- defatigable ardor to the cause of geograpbi. Dealing as they do with a comparatively litt's phrase, “the decomposition of prose is cal knowledge in all its branches. It is to uneventful period of Andersson's life, the substituted for the composition of poetry.” him almost exclusively that we are indebted “Notes of Travel” are less exciting than the There are fine things in the poem, however, for what we know of that portion of South earlier volumes, though by no means destiwhich enable us to hope that “ The Ship in Africa lying north of Cape Colony to the tute of stirring adventures by flood and field. the Desert” is simply a mistake of judgment, Cunene River and west of Livingstone's trans- They contain, for one thing, many vivid in. not an evidence of declining powers. The continental route ; and no section of the cidents in the wars between the native tribes, desolation and solemnity of the desert are African field ever confronted its explorer notable among them being a graphic descripdescribed with real force and impressiveness, with more deadly perils and apparently in. tion of a great battle between the Namaquas and with astonishing fertility of expression. superable difficulties. Andersson was a Swede and the Damaras, the latter of whom AndersIn fact, nearly all the purely scenic descrip- by birth, but, being in London in 1850, he son commanded, in which he was so severely tion is good. Occasionally we come upon a
associated himself with Francis Galton in an wounded as to be rendered a cripple during passage of real grandeur and beauty; more expedition, the object of which was to pene- the remainder of his life. There are also sevrarely upon a peculiarly felicitous bit of im- trate to Lake Ngami, then newly discovered eral valuable chapters on the geography and agery. Here is an example of the latter: by Livingstone, from some point on the west ethnology of the country, on its natural his
coast. “ She dreamed, perchance, of island home,
As is well known, this expedition tory, on the missionary system, etc. Even A land of palms ringed round with foam, failed of accomplishing its main object, and when the record is unnecessarily minute it Where Summer on her shelly shore
Galton returned to Europe; but the “ African does not cease to be interesting, for reveals Site down and rests for evermore."
fever" had taken hold upon Andersson, and more of Andersson's real character than any Nothing could be happier than the coup- he resolved to remain behind and make one of his finished works. He seems to have been let we have italicised. of the more sus- more attempt to reach the lake.
in many respects singularly like Livingstone; tained and elevated passages, the following tempt, made in 1853, after nearly three years both exhibiting in an eminent degree modest description of the ship and the desert is as of preparation, was entirely successful, and simplicity of character combined with generquotable as any :
he not only explored the portion of the lake ous enthusiasm and an indomitable will. ".... They pierced at last
unvisited by Livingstone, but discovered the The desert's middle depths, and lo! Tenge River and ascended it toward Libebe
It is characteristic of Jules Verne's audac. There loomed from out the desert vast
until arrested by the treachery of the natives. A lonely ship, well-built and trim,
ity that he should address himself confessedly And perfect all in hull and mast.
Returning then to England, he published an to the task of furnishing us a new version of
account of his journey in a book entitled "No storm had stained it any whit,
“ Robinson Crusoe" and the “Swiss Family No seasons set their teeth in it.
Lake Ngami,” one of the most fascinating Her masts were white as ghosts, and tall ; in the entire literature of African travel.
* Notes of Travel in Southwestern Africa. By Her decks were as of yesterday.
Andersson was a daring sportsman, and his C. J. Andersson. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.