pronounced altogether too frivolous and crude. "For the present," said the report, "and until otherwise ordered, the Chronicles shall not be printed." As a matter of fact almost three hundred years elapsed before the musty, forgotten manuscript was rescued from oblivion and printed in an edition of 1831. Bonivard's attitude towards the teachings of the Reformation is best seen in a curious dissertation of his called "Adois et Devis de la Source de Lidolatrie et Tyrannie Papale," in which he lashes himself into fury over the papal corruptions, with many references to what he had himself seen at Rome in 1518. There follows a chapter entitled "Des Difformes Reformateurz," where with sublime impartiality he turns around and rakes the Protestant forces with full broadsides of ridicule. Other works of his were "De l'ancienne et nouvelle Police de Genève," "De Noblesse et de ses Offices," and "Adois et Devis de Lengues [Langues]," in all of which he shows the widest reading, as well as a close acquaintance with public affairs. A sombre essay on "Sin," the "Amartigenee," closes the list of the works which have come down to us. It is an examination of the origin of sin, and is connected with a catastrophe which embittered the last years of Bonivard's life.

After eight years of unhappy wedlock, his wife Jeanne had died, and the undaunted man of the world had indulged in a third alliance with another widow, Pernette Mazue, who in turn had left this world after a short married life.

Finally, the Consistory summoned him to account for the presence of an escaped nun under his roof, a certain Catherine Courtaron. It was in 1565, and Bonivard was seventy-two years old. Comedy and tragedy were about evenly divided in this dramatic culmination of the patriot's life. It was proved that he had dedicated his Amartigènée to this learned lady, if not some very compromising verses as well, she in return presenting him with a copy of the "Philippics of Demosthenes," which proves that she was a woman of culture, at all events. According to the strict rules of censorship which prevailed in Geneva, the

scholarly lady could not be allowed to dwell alone with Bonivard in this perhaps platonic, but, in the eyes of the citizens, certainly equivocal relation. He was, therefore, requested to marry her at once, and without further ado. Bonivard expostulated, but in vain. He protested that she was like a sister to him; he pleaded his great age; and at last murmured something about consulting his relatives. To these objections the Consistory rejoined that the verses evidently constituted an offer of marriage; and, with charming irony, decided that Bonivard was old enough to dispense with the consent of relatives.

The comedy ended with a truly Pickwickian scene, for the aged groom was then and there led, an unwilling victim, to the altar and married off hand- the exprior to the ex-nun.

But, alas, a tragedy followed close upon this farcical wedding. It would seem as though Bonivard's dedication of his treatise on "Sin" to his fourth wife had been a prophecy, and the title of his work an epigram upon her character, for not long after, the ex-nun was arrested on the charge of adultery with the man who had helped her to escape from the convent. She and her supposed accomplice were tortured, according to the custom of the day, in order to extract the necessary avowals for their execution; she was then promptly sewn into a sack and drowned in the Rhone, while the man was decapitated and his head exposed according to the law. It remains a question whether the prisoners were really guilty, or only feigned to be so in order to put an end to their agonies, a frequent result of this practice of torture. Bonivard himself does not seem to have believed in the nun's guilt; in fact, stunned by the shame of this terrible calamity, all he would say against her was that "she bothered him about going to church and preaching," and "sometimes beat him when he had friends come to drink with him."

In spite of this overwhelming sorrow, Bonivard lived on for another five years, and died in 1570, at the age of seventyseven, childless, and in the midst of a generation which had not known him at

T

RUE science, bound by no fetters, its theories tenable only so long as they are useful in connecting facts, its progress limited only by the life of the race on the earth, and its field unbounded, is not only vastly enlarging the mental horizon, but is, at the same time, conferring incalculable practical benefits. Did this statement need emphasis, it is found in the growth of no particular branch of science more than in electricity. While in the near past the extension of its industrial applications has been phenomenal, we must not forget that during the same period its theories have become equally expanded and shorn of crudity.

With the vast accumulation of new facts, electricity has come to be understood as intimately related in its nature and actions to that necessary something which has been called the universal ether, filling all space and permeating the most solid objects. By the electrical vibrations of this medium, the stars not only declare their very presence, but transmit to us indications of their directions and rates of motion, their temperatures, and even the kind of matter which composes them. The beam of light is an electrical phenomenon, it is an electrical oscillation or vibration of such extraordinary rapidity, hundreds of trillions per second, as to become unrealizable in thought. It is conveyed in the ether at the rate of

nearly two hundred thousand miles per second. So are also other electrical actions.

It would be outside the scope of an article like the present to dwell upon the possible directions of development of electrical theories in so far as they may include other phenomena than light, so recently demonstrated to be electrical in its nature. The fact that electrical action is so intimately related to the phenomena of heat, chemical energy, and crystallization leads us to think that future discoveries can but tend towards further harmonies of these great forces.

Electrical attraction and repulsion, magnetism, light, and radiant heat are now known to be dependent in some way on the properties of the ether of space. Gravitational force must be similarly dependent. Cohesion and chemical affinity are, without doubt, manifestations depending on the same medium. The future scientific investigator will find his field of work gradually expanding. The growth of electricity as a branch of science must be at least commensurate with that of the broader science of physics.

But let us turn to a brief consideration of the possible advances in the practical applications of electric energy in the arts and industries. Let us examine the subject from the standpoint of effect on our methods of work and conditions of life.

Me

There is required no special scientific taste or training to enable people to appreciate immediately practical aspects. As a swift messenger, as a conveyer of intelligence, electricity has in the telegraph been familiarly known for about half a century. So far as appears from the present outlook, future telegraphic progress promises no great revolutions. thods and means will, no doubt, become more and more refined, and greater speeds be attained. The more general introduction of multiplex systems will increase the capacity of the lines and decrease the costs. More attention will be given to permanence of lines and to securing immunity from extended interruptions due to storms.

It may be remarked here, however, that electricians are not without some hope that signalling or telegraphing for moderate distances without wires, and even through dense fog may be an accomplished fact soon. Had we the means of obtaining electric oscillations of several millions per second, or waves similar to light waves, but of vastly lower rate of vibration, it might be possible by suitable reflectors to cause them to be carried a mile or so through a fog, and to recognize their presence by instruments constructed for the purpose. Many of the difficulties and dangers which now beset the navigator would, at least, be lessened, if not removed. Signalling Signalling or telegraphing without wires is no new proposal, and there have been many such proposals which are extravagant and impracticable. The fact is, however, the essential means are not yet forthcoming.

In telephonic transmission the past few years have permitted us to witness extensions from communication over restricted areas and moderate distances to hundreds of miles between cities, an achievement which must count as one of the wonders of the century.

The telephone itself, even when first brought out, was a marvel of simplicity and effectiveness. When we consider that by its means we may converse with and even recognize the voice of a person distant from us a considerable fraction of the earth's circumference, we cannot fail to be impressed with the wonder of it.

Can we, however, anticipate such an extension of the power of the telephone, that we may at some time use an ocean cable as the line over which speech is to be conveyed? To answer this question in the negative would be to set a limit to the capacity of the human intellect to make future advances; nevertheless, there are reasons which are cogent enough tending to point to the impracticability of telephonic transmission through cables of great length. In such cases a retardation and an obliteration of the delicate pulses of current which characterize electrical speech serve to prevent the reception of speech at the far end of the line. By enormously increasing the power of the waves or impulses, the difficulty would be, in a measure, overcome, but to do this introduces other grave difficulties, the solution of which is not easy to foresee.

The idea of lighting by wire or carrying electric current from its source to lamps in which the electric energy is transformed into light, long preceded the invention of the telephone, and many notable efforts were long ago made in the field of electric lighting. But to be able to speak over miles of wire was a feat well calculated to impress upon the public the possibility that so wonderful an agent as electricity might possess other capabilities perhaps only suspected by some of the more sanguine inventors and scientific students. We need not wonder that electric lighting as an industry sprang into existence quickly and gained public favor soon after the birth of the telephone. Much of the preliminary work had been done long before. needed inventive genius to adapt to the present needs the information which had been accumulated. It is not to be denied that many difficult problems had to be worked out, but it is an actual fact that the groundwork for the development of the art of lighting by the electric arc and by incandescence had been laid many years before these became a part of the industries. What shall we say of the future of an art which in the past ten years has so firmly rooted itself as a factor in our civilization? Can we predict for it a proportionate expansion in the

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