women.

In

no pleasure-park in the world open to vehicles are carts or business-wagons admitted; hence, if it is right to make a distinction in vehicles, it would be right to make a distinction in persons, and to order the exclusion of every man who comes in rags or dirt, who makes a pool of tobacco-juice upon the pavement, who salutes the nostrils of unoffending citizens with the horrible aroma of a filthy pipe, or in any other way makes himself an object of abhorrence to decent folk. A park is a sort of public parlor, to which everybody is under obligation to come in decent apparel and in his best behavior.

A very different picture in the particular we have dwelt upon is presented in most of the European parks. There the seats are usually chairs, which are furnished by attendants at a nominal price—a penny in England or a sou in Paris. This price, small as it is, serves to exclude vagabonds, and acts as a sort of natural selection in the class of people it brings to the parks, and is notably a means of extending the use of the grounds and of enhancing the pleasure of those who resort to them. When one thinks of the rowdies that congregate in Union Square or at Madison Park, and then recalls the charming domestic scenes he has witnessed in the gardens of the Luxembourg or at the ChampsElysées, he is ready to head a crusade against the New York outcomes of our democratic leniency. In the Paris parks one will often see a wife and husband seated in their chairs, with their little ones playing about them; the man will be reading to his spouse, and the woman will be engaged in some light bit of sewing or embroidery, while every now and then the little ones will come for a smile or a kiss. The picture is so calm, so restful, so domestic, so wholly felicitous, that the observer will be completely charmed by it, and will wonder why our people have so little genius for extracting pleasure from conditions so simple. But let a family try this experiment here. In a few moments the immovable seats would be neighbored by some ogling toper, and the fair group would become the victims of vulgar laughter or ribald jests from all the assembled mob of rags and dissoluteness. Let us pull up our free and very detestable democratic seats in the parks, and adopt some plan whereby these pleasure-grounds may be made secure and

If we had not already given so much space to a rather slight matter, we should endeavor to draw a political lesson from the subject-to show how even the mendicancy of a free seat in a park encourages idleness and dissoluteness, and that there can be no such thing as free bestowing without certain demoralizing results. The poor woman who pays her penny for her chair would be compensated by the dignity of proprietorship, | the inward satisfaction that she was enjoying what she had earned and purchased, the knowledge that she was in reputable company; and all these satisfactions would be enhanced by the liberty of moving her chair to such positions or to such companionships as she might elect. However, all these deductions and arguments are certain to be of no avail; we run our governments here in the interest of the good-for-nothing, and hence the vagabonds are sure to remain. Perhaps, however, there might be a compromise—one portion of the parks with free seats, and another where one might have a chair and be at his ease at a safe distance from frowsy rags, tobacco - spitters, pipesmokers, and all other forms of pleasureground plagues.

"There is no other civil or judicial service into which men are compelled but this. In the time of war the state can compel the service of her sons for her defense, if they do not volunteer; but a state of war is altogether an exceptional condition. In a condition of peace any compulsory service in the making or administration of law is essentially a hardship and an outrage. To be forced to compel this service is to acknowledge slavery to precedent, and confess to scantiness of resources. To force men unpaid, or only inadequately paid, into the service of the courts, to drag them away from their business or their families, imprison them under the charge of officers, and annoy them for days, or weeks, or months, as the case may be, with the details of affairs in which they have no interest whatever, is oppression, against which our people would have kicked long ago but for this hallucination about the sacredness of the jury-trial."

We most heartily concur with the opinion here expressed, and hope to see the time when this view of the question will become much more general. The theory that because A and B have quarreled over some idle matter, or on account of a little money, twelve men must be forcibly taken from their pursuits and be compelled to sacrifice their own personal interests, in order to determine the justice of the dispute, is an outrage which our contemporary does not character

ize any too strongly. It is a great deal more arbitrary than the compulsion of military service during the time of war. For this the draft is resorted to only at the last extremity, and when drafted a man is not only privileged to send a substitute, but he is often aided in his efforts to obtain one. The compulsory feature is reduced to its minimum. But in jury-matters a man is not permitted to send a substitute; no matter how much his personal interests may suffer by the required service, he obtains no consideration on this account; sickness alone excuses him; and these facts make jury-service one of the most arbitrary and oppressive things in the world. Think, as in the recent Brooklyn case, of men being forced to surrender nearly six months of their time in order to adjust a miserable scandal, and realize the atrocious injustice of the institution!

A remedy for the evil is not difficult to find. In cases of capital crime it may still be necessary to retain the system, removing from it, however, its compulsory feature, so far at least as to select for jurors those only who would not personally or in business suffer by the detention. In the immense range of other questions juries as now constituted are quite unnecessary. Men should be selected and paid for this service just as judges and other officers of the court are selected and remunerated; or all civil cases might be decided by benches of judges, just as appeal and many other classes of cases are now decided. The way to remedy the evil can easily be found just as soon as the public feeling is aroused against it, which has only been delayed because of the popular traditional ideas of the sacredness of the institution. No doubt the jury-system was originally all that is claimed for it. It was the barrier against the despotic mandates of kings; it interposed between authority and the people an important safeguard. But the conditions that rendered the jury so indispensable to the liberties of the people in former times have passed away, and it is now quite time that we employed some method suitable to the requirements of our present civilization.

In the first place, it is a settled thing with every Englishman that America is a fair and legitimate subject for his sneers and mendacious misrepresentations. In the next place, it is a settled thing with every Bostonian that New York is a fair and legitimate subject for his contempt and depreciation. Perhaps we deserve a good many of the sharp things that are said of us, not only in Boston, but in other of the upright and model municipalities of the land; but then sometimes the sneer and the assertion are rather gratuitous. When, for instance, we find a Boston paper deploring the failure

here of Thomas's orchestral performances, and declaring that "New York has had the exquisite music of the most perfect band in the world lavished upon its dull, coarse ear in vain," indignation is smothered in surprise. But the accusation is so worded, however, that, if the asserted fact fall to the ground, the rest is a very good but unintended compliment to us. What authority has this critic for saying that the "exquisite music of the most perfect band in the world" has been lavished upon our "dull, coarse ear" ("dull, coarse ear" is good and Bostonian) in vain? The fact is-but perhaps our amiable critic does not care for facts that uncomfortably jostle his theories-that this exquisite music" of Mr. Thomas's band has not lacked a full and remunerative following during this and all preceding sum

mers.

We say remunerative rather than appreciative, because evidently, with our " dull, coarse ears," it must be our money and not our tastes to which Mr. Thomas's success is to be attributed. However, there is something in employing our money in good directions, whatever may be the motive; and hence our Boston friend, in conceding that we have in New York "the most perfect band in the world," has only to discover that Mr. Thomas's success will keep him in our midst, to see how the facts give us praise, despite the efforts of our defamer.

THE

Literary.

HE most surprising of recent discoveries in natural history is unquestionably that of plants which possess the power not only to catch and destroy animal prey, but to digest and absorb its nutritive elements by a process analogous in all respects to that which goes on in the human stomach. Several monographs on the subject have appeared both in this country and in England during the past year or two, and we in our science department, as well as the scientific journals, have made the leading facts familiar to the public, but Mr. Darwin's "Insectivorous Plants" is the first systematic and authoritative exposition of the matter, and, as is customary with that author, it is thorough

and exhaustive.

The greater portion of Mr. Darwin's ob

servations are devoted to the Drosera rotundiflora, popularly called "sun-dew," which grows wild in many parts of England, and which belongs to the family of Droseraceæ, which includes upward of one hundred species, ranging in the Old Word from the arctic regions to Southern India, the Cape of Good Hope, Madagascar, and Australia, and in the New World from Canada to Tierra del Fuego. His attention was first drawn to it in the summer of 1860 by finding how large a number of insects were caught by its leaves on a

*Insectivorous Plants. By Charles Darwin, M. A., .F. R. S. With Illustrations. New York: D. Appleton & Co.

--

heath in Sussex, and, believing that this could hardly be attributable to accident, he forthwith began an elaborate series of experiments, the results of which are given in detail in the present work. "These results have proved highly remarkable, the more important ones being first, the extraordinary sensitiveness of the glands to slight pressure and to minute doses of certain nitrogenous fluids, as shown in the movements of the socalled hairs or tentacles; secondly, the power possessed by the leaves of rendering soluble or digesting nitrogenous substances, and of afterward absorbing them; thirdly, the changes which take place within the cells of the tentacles when the glands are excited in various ways."

The plant has been frequently described in the various scientific journals, but it may be well, before proceeding further, to refresh the reader's memory with a description of it. It bears from two or three to five or six leaves, generally extended more or less horizontally, but sometimes standing vertically upward. The leaves are commonly a little broader than long. The whole upper surface is covered with gland - bearing filaments, or "tentacles," as Mr. Darwin calls them, from their manner of acting. The glands were counted on thirty-one leaves, and the average number to a leaf was one hunbeing two hundred and sixty, and the least dred and ninety-two; the greatest number one hundred and thirty. Each gland is surrounded by large drops of an extremely viscid secretion, which, glittering in the sun, have given rise to the plant's poetical name of the "sun-dew." A tentacle consists of a thin, straight, hair-like pedicel, carrying a gland on the summit. The tentacles on the central part of the leaf are short and stand upright, and their pedicels are green. Toward the margin they become longer and longer, and more inclined outward, with their pedicels of a purple color. Those on the extreme margin project in the same plane with the leaf, or more commonly are considerably reflexed. A few tentacles spring from the base of the footstalk, and these are the longest of all, being sometimes nearly one-fourth of an inch in length. The glands, with the exception of those borne by the extreme marginal tentacles, are oval, and of nearly uniform size, viz., about of an inch in length. They have the power of absorption, besides that of secretion; and they are extremely sensitive to various stimulants, namely, repeated touches, the pressure of minute particles, the absorption of animal matter and of various fluids, heat, and galvanic action. Insects furnish the chief nutriment of the plant (the roots being very poorly developed), and these are captured by means of the viscid fluid surrounding the glands. As soon as even the smallest insect is thus entangled, the tentacles bend slowly inward from all directions and carry it to the centre of the leaf, where it is digested and absorbed; after which, the tentacles reëxpand very slowly, being then ready for further prey. The chemical changes which take place in the plant during this entire process are most remarkable, and are described by Mr. Darwin with great minuteness of detail; but we can only find room for

the paragraph (summarizing his numerous experiments) in which he proves that the leaves "are capable of true digestion, and that the glands absorb the digested matter:"

"The gastric juice of animals contains, as is well known, an acid and a ferment, both of which are indispensable for digestion, and so it is with the secretion of Drosera. When the stomach of an animal is mechanically irritated, it secretes an acid, and when particles of glass or other such objects were placed on the glands of Drosera, the secretion, and that of the surrounding and untouched glands, was increased in quantity and became acid. But, according to Schiff, the stomach of an animal does not secrete its proper ferment, pepsine, until certain substances, which he calls peptogenes, are absorbed; and it appears from my experiments that some matter must be absorbed by the glands of Drosera before they secrete their proper ferment. That the secretion does contain a ferment which acts only in the presence of an acid or solid animal matter, was clearly proved by adding minute doses of an alkali, which entirely arrested the process of diges tion, this immediately recommencing as soon as the alkali was neutralized by a little weak hydrochloric acid. From trials made with a large number of substances, it was found that those which the secretion of Drosera dissolved completely, or partially, or not at all, are acted on in exactly the same manner by gastric juice. We may therefore conclude that the ferment of Drosera is closely analogous to, or identical with, the pepsine of animals."

That a plant and an animal should pour forth the same, or nearly the same, complex secretion, adapted for the same purpose of digestion, is a new and surely a wonderful fact in physiology; and even more wonderful is the structure of the plant, by which, in the absence of a nervous system, so complicated a process is accomplished. Perhaps the most striking feature of this structure is the extreme sensitiveness of the glands to pressure. Says Mr. Darwin on this point:

"It is an extraordinary fact that a little bit of soft thread, of an inch in length, and weighing of a grain, or of a human hair, 10 of an inch in length, and weighing only 7 of a grain, or particles of precipitated chalk, after resting for a short time on a gland, should induce some change in its cells, excit ing them to transmit a motor impulse throughout the whole pedicel, consisting of about twenty cells, to near its base, causing this part to bend, and the tentacle to sweep through an angle of above 180°. That the contents of the cells of the glands, and afterward those of the pedicels, are affected in a plainly visible manner by the pressure of minute particles, we shall have abundant evidence when we treat of the aggregation of protoplasm. But the case is much more striking than as yet stated; for the particles are supported by the viscid and dense secretion; nevertheless, even smaller ones than those of which the measurements have been given, when brought by an insensibly slow movement, through the means above specified, into contact with the surface of s gland, act on it, and the tentacle bends. The pressure exerted by the particle of hair, weighing only of a grain, and supported by a dense fluid, must have been inconceivably slight. We may conjecture that it could hardly have equaled the millionth of a grain; and we shall hereafter see that far less than th millionth of a grain of phosphate of ammoni in solution, when absorbed by a gland, ac

on it and induces movement.

A bit of hair, ts of an inch in length, and therefore much larger than those used in the above experiments, was not perceived when placed on my tongue; and it is extremely doubtful whether any nerve in the human body, even if in an inflamed condition, would be in any way affected by such a particle supported in a dense fluid, and slowly brought into contact with the nerve. Yet the cells of the glands of Drosera are thus excited to transmit a motor impulse to a distant point, inducing movement. It appears to me that hardly any more remarkable fact than this has been observed in the vegetable kingdom."

Among the other insect-eating plants described by Mr. Darwin, the most remarkable is the Dionaea, a small plant which grows only in a limited district of North Carolina, and which catches its prey by the quick closing together of its double-lobed leaf when touched. It is not possible, however, for us to follow the author further in his interesting observations; but must content ourselves with recommending the book to all lovers of natural history. We recommend it especially to those who are inclined to distrust Mr. Darwin as a biologist, for scarcely any of his works illustrates so conspicuously the tireless industry with which he accumulates facts, and the extreme care with which he guards his conclusions.

MR. FRANK LEE BENEDICT is an excellent illustration of what a moderate amount of talent can accomplish by steady work and careful cultivation. It is no very long time since his literary efforts were confined to a monthly periodical, designed specially for circulation among the semi-cultured multitude, and but two or three years have elapsed since "My Daughter Elinor" introduced him for the first time to the general public. The utmost that could be said of "My Daughter Elinor" was that it was a plausibly mediocre first work, and little more could be added concerning his two or three following ores; but in "St. Simon's Niece" (New York: Harper & Brothers) we have distinctly a novel which is deserving of very high praise. It may be urged, indeed, that the story is sensational, that it is unnecessarily painful, that it compels us to associate with bad company, that it reveals a perilous tendency on the part of the author to indulge in morbid mental anatomy, and that its tone altogether is too cynical and blasé to be healthful-all this may be said with truth, yet without impairing the fact that the novel is one the power of which not only compels recognition, but fairly drives out for the time being all consciousness of these or any other defects. The plot, to begin with, is intensely dramatic, and at the same time coherent and "thinkable;" it is developed with such skill that the interest is maintained from first to last; and there is scarcely a single character who does not furnish, in the course of the story, an adequate reason for his (or her) existence. Few creations of modern fiction are more distinctly individual or more vividly portrayed than St. Simon, the handsome, witty, wily, unscrupulous adventurer and swindler, and the even more handsome, witty, wily, and unscrupulous niece of

St. Simon. The latter is the principal character in the book, and is well worthy of study, but any attempt to analyze it here would not only require more space than we can spare, but would also reveal more of the story than the reader would like to know beforehand. Those who can recall Sister Helen, in Rossetti's ballad of that name, will have caught one phase of her characterthat of a passionate woman whom disappointed love has rendered as revengeful, as cruel, and as pitiless as a savage. Fanny St. Simon, however, is a vastly more complex character than Sister Helen; and the constant struggle between her good and evil impulses, between the careless, unselfish generosity of a born Bohemian and the fierce egotism of a woman who would commit murder rather than lose her lover, between blind passion on the one hand and the clear insight of a thoroughly worldly woman on the other, furnishes a memorable leaf out of the great book of human nature. One more feature of Fanny's character is worthy of mention she is an admirable specimen of that rare creature in fiction who is not only rep. resented by the author as being almost supernaturally witty and intelligent, but actually illustrates it in her recorded conversations. All the dialogue in which she participates is excellent, and portions of it read like passages out of the old comedies.

which we have any knowledge) pay too little heed to the conditions, physical and moral,. of wise parentage, is well enough; but reform which aims at a practical object should at least attempt to use practical means, and not begin by ignoring the most powerfully operative impulses of human nature.

We infer from his closing section that Mr. Newton thinks that the chief objection to his suggestions lies against their high moral plane; but the difficulty with them is not that they are too moral, but that they are foolish. One of them, for example, is to the effect that a woman before being called upon to bear children should feel that she is "independent and self-supporting. . . . Her husband should remember that her services in making home what a home should be, and surely in bearing the burdens of maternity, are above all price. . . and in any case where a wife performs her part with ordinary fidelity, she may fairly be considered entitled to one half the income, whatever it be, and to the same freedom in the use of her share as has the husband of his." If this meant that the wife, thus secured an equal share of the income, was to be held equally responsible with the husband for the joint family expenses, for the education of the children, and for making provision for their future, we presume few husbands would object to an arrangement which would materially reduce their special burdens; but that no such thing was in the author's mind is evident from a subsequent paragraph, in which he insists that one of the plainest duties of a father-in addition, we presume, to high-giving half his income to the mother-is to provide properly for the education and support of his children."

Not less life-like, and scarcely less striking, than the portraits of St. Simon and Fanny are those of Talbot Castlemaine, Fanny's weak, sensual, vacillating, unprincipled lover, love of whom wrecked at least two women's lives; of Roland Spencer, generous, spirited, and with the unsophisticated enthusiasm of youth; of Gregory Alleyne and Helen Devereux, to whom are assigned the heavy, respectable rôles. Even the minor characters are individual and skillfully drawn. Mrs. Pattaker is rather overdone, perhaps, and "the Tortoise" is too consistently and persistently idiotic; but both are genuinely humorous conceptions, and are seldom permitted to become tedious.

Almost the only fault we have to find with "St. Simon's Niece" is the occasional carelessness of style, which not seldom lapses into vulgarity. An author with a vocabulary as copious as that of Mr. Benedict ought to be above using slang in his own person under any circumstances, and it is surely a superfluity of naughtiness to manufacture it. If he insists upon it, however, it is to be hoped that he will append a vocabulary of original slang-terms to his future works.. We have not the slightest idea what a "jubsy" man is, and yet, if we are to encounter the word seven times in a single story, we certainly consider ourselves entitled to a defi

nition.

AFTER conceding to Mr. A. E. Newton all the credit due to good intentions, we are obliged to inform him that his tract entitled "The Better Way: An Appeal to Men in Behalf of Human Culture through Wiser Parentage" (New York: Wood & Holbrook) is an impertinent, feeble, and vulgar production. His cardinal premise, that the men and women of our day (and of all other days of

66

A CONVENTION of German editors is now in session at Bremen for the purpose of trying to induce the Imperial Government to remove some of the present restrictions upon the press. It is not very probable that much can be accomplished in this direction at the present time, but the convention may, by perfecting the union of editors throughout the country, prepare the way for the great movement which must, at some future period, break through the trammels with which old-time prejudices still strive to restrain liberty of thought throughout the greater part of Europe.

Only a few details have yet been received concerning the composition and organization of this convention. But a general notice of some of the most remarkable newspapers of the empire will serve to show what sort of material is represented therein. The first newspaper in Germany, as to tone, character, and reputation, is probably the Allgemeine Zeitung, or Universal Gazette, of Augsburg. Though it is published in an old-fashioned, provincial city, this paper is known and honored in every part of the civilized world, and has a history of which it may well be proud. Founded by the famous Cotta publishing-house, in 1798, at Tübingen, it was soon afterward removed to Stuttgart, then to Ulm, and was finally located at Augsburg, where it quickly acquired that world-wide fame which it has never ceased to deserve. Its fearless advocacy of liberal principles at a time-previous to 1848when the reactionary spirit which followed Napoleon's invasion of Russia had made the German rulers almost absolute, caused it to be

looked upon as the chosen mouth-piece of the people's party. Herwegh, Hoffmaun, Freiligrath, and the other great poet-patriots of Germany, were among its contributors, and its utterances during that dark era were largely instrumental in bringing on the great uprising that marked the middle of our century. During the period which has succeeded its politioal character has undergone some change, and, in the altered positions of German parties, its standing is less clearly defined than formerly; yet, in the truest and widest sense of the term, it is still thoroughly liberal. This paper consists of two parts, one of which is chiefly made up of correspondence from various parts of the world, while the other is a sort of supplement, containing the latest news, together with reviews of books and literary sketches.

Another German paper which is extremely popular, both at home and abroad, is the Kölnische Zeitung, or Cologne Gazette. This is a large, well-printed daily, truly liberal in politics, and edited with marked ability. Its news reports are always very full and reliable, and in this particular department it is unsurpassed by any Continental paper, not even excepting the Indépendance Belge, of Brussels.

One of the most notable papers in Berlin is the Neue Preussische Zeitung, or New Prussian Gazette, commonly called the Kreuz- (" Cross") Zeitung, on account of the large black cross which decorates its heading. This journal has long been known as an organ of the reactionary party. It deals with political questions, not only in its own proper columns, but also in a supplementary publication called the Rundschau, or "Outlook," of the Kreuz - Zeitung, which is issued at certain intervals during the year. Some years ago it was so persistent in its laudation of that union of the Eastern European monarchies, led by Russia against the first Napoleon, that it was generally considered a special advocate of Russian aims and principles. Indeed, it was then looked upon by many Germans as a mere agent of the czar; and a well-known scientific man of Berlin, having been asked whether he was in the habit of reading the Kreuz-Zeitung, replied: "No; I don't understand Russian well enough for that."

Opposed to, and very different from, the last-named journal are the Berlinische Nachrichten, or Berlin News, and the Spener'sche Zeitung (Spener Gazette)-two influential and well-conducted Berlin papers, published every day. They resemble each other in their general character, and both contain, besides their news reports and political articles, many very creditable sketches on literature, science, and

art.

scribers, in Germany alone, amounted some years ago to five hundred and twelve thousand; and since that time their number has been largely increased.

Kladderadatsch, the Berlin Charivari or Punch, was established in 1848, and has become a great favorite all over Germany. It is a small sheet, containing humorous pictorial hits at passing events, ordinarily of a political character. Its humor is apt to be a little coarse, and its letter-press is seldom equal to its designs; but both are often very amusing, and frequently convey keen and forcible expressious of public opinion.

At the Vienna Exposition, held a few years since, the indomitable Heinrich Stephan, who has since perfected the great international postal treaty lately signed by all the European powers and the United States, prepared an exhibition of German serials, which attracted a great deal of attention. One of the most noticeable features of this exhibition was the space allotted to Die Modenwelt (The Fashion - World), a lady's newspaper, of Leipsic. Ranged around a copy of the original German publication were about a dozen other lady's journals, all regularly issued in English, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, Bohemian, Hungarian, French, Spanish, Italian, and Polish cities, and all literal translations of the corresponding number of Die Modenwelt. The energy of the German paper in collecting materials and providing itself with the latest advices on dress and fashion received a very practical acknowledgment in this conception of the German Inspector-General of Post-Offices.

Even the ultramontane and ultra-reactionary papers of Germany are directly interested in the accomplishment of the objects for which the convention at Bremen has been callednamely, greater liberty as to publications, and the right to withhold the names of contributors. It is probable, therefore, that great unanimity will mark its sessions while these important points are under discussion. And, if such should be the case, there can be no doubt that the German Government will look with respect upon the action of the united German press, and be in some measure influenced by it.

In one of those finely appreciative obituary articles for which the Spectator is noted, the late Professor Cairnes is thus described as to certain of his mental qualities: "Mr. Cairnes was a formidable and somewhat unsparing controversialist. His indignation and contempt

siderations. But even in strictly economie controversy he sometimes showed a curious incapacity for entering into the point of view of an antagonist; of which his argument against Professor Jevons in his last treatise affords a striking example. On the other hand, he had the rare and valuable gift of seeing error with the same perfect distinctness with which he saw truth; so that his exposure of real fallacies and confusions of thought in his opponents is always delightful to read, from its clear and crushing completeness. Indeed, such essays as his review of Bastiat have the same educational value as his expository treatises; for in a subject where fallacies and confusions of thought beset the student at every step, this 'teaching by contraries' is an almost necessary supplement of direct exposi tion. And after all deductions are made, we cannot but feel that there is no one left who can fill the place of Mr. Cairnes as a master of either method of instruction; even if we consider only what he actually did, and do not allow ourselves to conjecture what, under happier circumstances, he might have done."

MR. W. F. RAE is engaged upon a companion-work to his "Wilkes, Sheridan, Fox; the Opposition under George III.," which will be entitled "George Washington; the American Opposition to George III.". Mr. Browning's new poem will be out in October. It treats of the effect produced on the mind by sudden loss of fortune.. Mommsen, the German historian, delivered an address at a recent fête given by the University of Berlin, in which he said that his countrymen would be deceived if they hoped to find an element of prosperity in fresh victories. . . . Mr. Bain is said to have objected to the publication of some of the letters addressed to him by John Stuart Mill.... The clerical journals of Antwerp attack violently the Communal Council there for allow ing a translation of Mr. Smiles's "Self-Help" to be given as a prize in the communal schools. They declare the work to be of an anti-religious nature. . . . PICTURESQUE EUROPE of which the public expectation is keen, will be edited by Bayard Taylor, the fittest man for the task, indisputably, in the whole country.

Music and the Drama.

HE of Dr. Hans von Bülow ranks

Liszt in the interest which it excites among the music-loving people of Europe and America. It is not merely in virtue of his extraordinary powers as a pianist, though these give him such a rank as to place him beyond competition, except by Rubinstein and Liszt, the latter of whom is now retired from the active field. Von Bülow's greatness gets its peculiar quality from the fact that, to wonderful abilities as a performer, he adds intellectual power and a searching culture, which would have given him eminence as a littérateur, philosopher, or jurist.

It is the misfortune of most musicians, even composers, that they are the slaves of a special sense on which few of the side-lights of thought let fall their radiance. They pur sue their faculty whithersoever it leads in the fixed channels, without troubling themselves to seek the food and growth which come of wide mental survey. Even such great me

as Beethoven and Mozart, living in an epoch of large mental activity, were little more than children in their thoughts outside of the mere world of music, in which they reigned so supremely.

It seems to be the province of the Wagner school of music to attract to itself disciples who are not simply great artists, but who are keen and cultured thinkers. Wagner's theories are linked in the interdependence of music with the other arts, and built up on a philosophical idea. No one has done more to illustrate these theories, the illustrious founder excepted, alike as an artist and a thinker, than Dr. von Bülow. At an early stage of his career he threw himself into the war raging between the old and new with a zeal which has never shown abatement. As pianist and musician, then, we may expect to welcome in this player the most competent and enthusiastic exponent of the Wagner doctrines now living, next to the prophet and law-giver himself. As he is now looked for in this country, a few brief particulars of his career will be of interest.

The son of a distinguished novelist and littérateur, Baron von Bülow, he studied music under the celebrated Wieck, the father of Clara Schumann, who did so much to inaugurate the revolution in piano-forte playing. At the age of eighteen he entered himself at the University of Berlin for the purpose of studying law, and made himself foremost among those whose pronounced gifts betokened a brilliant career on the bar and bench. The innate musical feeling, however, was too strong, and, by the advice of Liszt, he concluded, at the close of his university studies, to devote himself to music. He pursued his art with great assiduity, under the instruction of the celebrated virtuoso, then at the most dazzling height of his reputation, and drew from him his large and liberal views of music. Adopting Liszt's theories of the function of the piano, which differed widely from the methods of Mozart, Hummel, Moscheles, and Thalberg, he learned to treat the instrument as an orchestra, and make it an organ of all the heights and depths of musical expression, so far as its limitations would permit.

No compositions were regarded beyond the reach of an aggressive technique.

The young disciple also came to the assistance of the Kunstwerk der Zukunft, or "Art-Work of the Future," under which name the new school had commenced its battle, in the columns of the leading musical reviews, and made himself marked by the boldness, eloquence, and vigor of his writing. The attention of Germany was drawn to the champion, and, when he first commenced his concert-tour in 1853, he was already a man of note. For several years he pursued a brilliant career as piano-forte player, and professor at the conservatory of Berlin, and devoted himself to the labors of poet and critic, as well as those of composer, teacher, and performer. He broke the shell of the mere virtuoso, and became a master, in the widest sense.

In 1859 Von Bülow went to Paris, and created such a furore by his extraordinary playing as had not been witnessed since the palmiest days of Liszt and Chopin. Wagner

had been a failure and bête noire among the gay Parisians, but his most outspoken champion carried every thing before him, and became one of the lions of the art-world. The next ten years of our pianist's life were given to the work of founding a great conservatory at Munich, and illustrating the new school both as author and musician. He was selected by Wagner to lead alternately with himself at the representations of his operas in Munich, where only at that time his works found appreciative audiences.

England had never heard Von Bülow till 1873, in which year he was induced to continue the triumphs he had made in France and Germany. A very bitter feeling among the critics and musicians against Wagner and his followers existed generally, and the player had to fight against a strong tide of prejudice. This, however, was triumphantly overcome, and the series of Albert-Hall and Philharmonic concerts of 1873 and '74 were such as to create a great enthusiasm. The best judges were free to confess that his interpretation seemed to recreate the works of the great masters. As conductor, too, he excited extraordinary interest by his magnetic control of the orchestra, and mere mechanism seemed to disappear entirely from their work under the inspiration of his bâton. The effect produced by Von Bülow as a pianist is very well illustrated by the following criticism in the Athenæum, for many years a most bitter opponent of Wagner's theories and adherents, while its musical columns were under the control of the late Henry Chorley "The more frequently Dr. Bülow performs, the more demonstrative does the approbation of his audience become. This result is very natural. The marked individuality which characterizes his style at first startled those artists and amateurs who had heard him for the first time. As they have followed him in various works, with or without orchestra, the admiration produced by his intellectual and poetic conception of the composers whose works he has interpreted by his marvelous mechanism, has steadily increased. So irresistible is the influence of an independent thinker, that compositions as familiar as household words have been, so to speak, recreated. The most able and experienced pianists of this metropolis do not hesitate to declare that to hear Dr. Bülow's performances is to recommence their lesson and practice."

We quote this from a grave and cautious crtical authority to justify the hope so generally entertained that America will hear in Bülow an exponent of the piano, in some respects superior even it may be to Rubinstein. The latter is the possessor of a fiery and intense individuality, which colors and assimilates the whole of his performances to a very remarkable extent. To such a degree did he carry this, that at times he took extraordinary liberties with the text of his work; never failing, indeed, to invest his interpretation with a superb and suggestive poetry, but often wandering from the motive and feeling of the composer. Dr. Bülow, among other claims to public interest, we are told, is a most exact and thoughtful scholar in projecting his artwork, and assiduously aims to sink his own individuality in that of the

master whose medium he for the moment becomes.

To the more advanced class of musical lovers and students, this virtuoso will be less interesting as the mere player than as a great champion and illustrator of Wagnerism. It is said that he succeeds in introducing the essential principles of the new school of music in his playing. How he does this, by what peculiarities of technique and style he achieves what at first thought seems an impossibility, will be awaited with no little curiosity.

MR. BARRY SULLIVAN made his first appearance at Booth's Theatre on the 30th ultimo, under circumstances peculiarly of fensive to good taste. Why because a man is an Irishman, and has acted Shakespearean parts with moderate success in the English provinces, his appearance on the American boards should be made the occasion of a noisy and sensational ovation, with military bands, regiments in uniform, flying banners, lanterns, and a general meaningless turbulence, it is not easy to say. Assuredly there is no connection between the artistic rendition of a part like Hamlet and the boisterous frolicking of a horse-race or an agricultural fair. The whole artificial excitement of Mr. | Sullivan's opening night, with the procession, the music, the military, the addresses to the mob, were of a character calculated to do the actor great injury in the estimation of all | sensible people; and as a protest against degrading clap-trap of the kind it would be well if the better class of theatre-goers should leave Mr. Sullivan severely alone during his visit to this country. Those who manufactured the distasteful ado of the occasion ought to be taught that this is not the way to win the suffrages of the people for art. Hamlets and Othellos are scarcely to be forced down our throats by the bayonets of a popu lar regiment, nor is public criticism to be drowned by drum and trumpet, or seduced from the right paths by bunting and Chinese lanterns.

Mr. Sullivan is a long way from being a great actor. He has a very pleasing face and presence, a fine, mellow voice, and he knows how to pose in very picturesque attitudes, and to fill the eye with a succession of wellstudied stage-pictures. He unites in these particulars the instincts of the sculptor and the painter; his eminently picturesque makeups show a fine taste for color, and his attitudes evince a plastic grace that would make him always an attractive actor in purely picturesque parts. Nor is he without a calm, balanced intelligence. But there is absolutely no fire and no imagination. His cool judg ment keeps him always from rant or turbulence; he never "oversteps the modesty of Nature;" in truth, Nature with him is rather closely veiled, and one can get no more than faint glimpses of her true form and being. He errs altogether on the side of tameness. His grasp of Hamlet is of the stage, stageythat is, it is just that perception of the part that a thoroughly-trained actor would have who has limited his study to all the external arts-of how he shall walk, how he shall