Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 8, 1874, Page 10

10 THE GHICAGO DATLY 'TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY '8, 1874 COMPULSORY EDUCATION. Catholic Objections to the Measure. A Denial of the Proposition that Edu- cation Diminishes Crime. Advocacy of Legislation Compelling Parents to Have Their Children- Tanght Some Employment. A Catholic View of the Question, ' the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: Brn: In view of tho great intercst and diverso spinions entertained in regard to education, tho question of compulsory educstion becomes one of extromo importance. Catholics hold that edncation, to bs complete In the follest senso of the term, should be Christian ; that s, that it shonld comprise sound Catholic teaching as well a5 instruction in- tho primary branches of knowledge The truo Cathe- Tic maintains that to educate the mind only, and neglect tho soul, i worse than the reverse; in other words, that education without Christianity is worse than Christianity witbout oducation ; that the preparation for the world to come is of as TCH MUORE DIPOBTANCE than ihs preparation for this life only, as the in- finite is boyond the finito. To this it will be objected that the religious sducation should be a home-duty, aud is not tha duty of the State. This objection has been as often met a8 it has been often mace. To the firet point in the objection I would anmswer: Very trae, tchere practicable. Tho second is un- Heniable. But, in regard to the practicahility of the first, it,is 8 well-known fact that the far greater majority of Catholics in this country be- long to the poorer, and consequently tho least- sducated clasces. Now, even though these un- educated people thomselves hold and maintain the true faith, they may be—most of them wre— QUITE_INCAPABLE of giving instruction in that faith ; all the more 30 where their pupils—that is, their children— sre better educated than they are themselves, which will nsually bo the case. ~_ Children must be instructed by persons whom they can look up to and respect as their superiors; and the su- or education of the child, relatively to that of he parent, will weaken materially the effect of the Iatter's religious teaching; more especially if the education of the child be derived from the public echools, whero tho large ma- jority of their companions . will be anti-Catholic,. and where, if ' oxperience of Young America bo any index, filial roverenco is not very urgently impressed upon them. To tell the large msjority of Catholics, thare- foro, that they must imfiut religious instruction to their children at home, is, ns Mr. Gerrit Bmith justly observed, to mock them. As rogards Sunday-echool instruction, I have only to say that it is_totally inadequats’ to im- part to Catholic children a thoroughly religions education. 1t is, therefore, essontial fo the preservation of the Catholic religion among- us, that our children be educated a- schools established and maintained TNDER THE SHADOW OF THE CHUECH. The bill which, on Tuesdsy, the 20th ult., passed one branch of the Illinois Legislature, to make education comprlsory, does u0s in fny way debar Catholic children from attending Catholic schools, or even from being oducated at home; but it clearly refers the decision as:to the proficiency of children o the *‘School-Di- reciors, Board of Education, Trustees, or other ‘school-officers having control of any school ;" while the bill itself epecifics tire branches of edueation’in which the children aro to bo in- structed, namely: Reading, writing, English grammar, geography, and arithmetic. Now, this opens a very large field to the exercise of arbitrary power -and petty persecution, and adds one more to the many proofs existing of the TMPROPDIETT OF STATE INTERTERENCE in matters beyond its sphero, cspecially where the congcience of men may ba affocted. Snppose, for instance, that the-hesd of a Catholic family, posseased of a littlo educa- tion, and. living within two miles of 'a-public school, prefers’ to impart to his children such educetion ashe himself possesses, than to exposa them to the promiscuous influenco (as he might deem it) of the public school. According to the provisions of the bill in question, upon a written actice from ‘any taxpayer served upon any two or more of the officers or school-authorities above named, they shall, under pain of fine, in- stitute s euit against such a pereon for the ro~ tovery of the penalty imposed by the bill upon sny person not complying with its terms, “nn- {ess 6uch penalty shall sooner be paid. withont suit, or unless, upon investigation during that fime, they shall bo satisfied. that no penalty has setually been incurred.” This" then, gives the rights to the echool-au- $horities to INVESTIGATE TI'X DOMESTIC AFFAIRY of this supposed individual's family, and leaves them to decide whether or not the educationhe imparts to hia children be in accordance with the provisions of t‘he I)ill.‘1 Now, tlus individu: while competent to teach. reading, writing, ant Lhetr:d.ig:gxm ch fi‘i\mmcfic' mfiy be incompe-~ tent to nglish grammar, geography, or tho _bigher branches of . Arithosetis (i itseli & very compreensive study, and capsble of an extended interprotation); and yet he has_theright to prefer they sho kaow how to read and write only, rather than to know more; learned at the public schools. Still, under the provieions of the bill, he wonld un. doubtedly be lisble to a fino,—said fine to ba paid in 10 the Treasurer “for the use of the dis~ trict in which the original penalty was ine curred,”—consequently for the support of & school-syatem which the offender (?) conscicn- tiously belieyes to be pornicious. Even suppos- ing such an individaal wore capable of impart~ ing, and did impurt, to his children ' instruction in all the branches referred to, these school- suthorities, themeelves interested inthe recovery of 5 penaity, would bo the sole judges as to ‘whether his instruction was strictly in compli- ance with the provisions of the bil ¥ To ail this it will be objected, to quote thelan- gusge of Tmz TRIBONE; that * Tho theory of non-interference mnst &'ield whenever it comes into_conflict with the doctrine of the greatest good of the grestest number.” And here wo como to tho very marrow of the bone of conten- tion. Admit this proposition, and all further ments ara useless. % atit is sound toa cerlain extent, there can be “wodoubt; but, unless admitted with animportant juatification, like many other wmaxims generally 3dmitted bocsuse they sound well, it becomes the pasis of THE FUREST CESARIS, <nd Cresarism in its worst form, reduced to the ‘ospotism of amob. The important qualification to this apparent Fruiem is this: That the emaller number have zertain. rights which the grenter number aro ‘boand-torespect. This limits the power of the greator number in avery importaut respect ; it Provents their being invariably the judges of their own case. At proeent, thie majority-doctrine is in some cases carried out regardless of the rights of the minority, as in the case of the public-school sys- tem, which taxes the Catholics for the support of schools the advantages of which they cannot ‘conscientiouely enjoy. The only rule which can Do 1aid down in this regard is, that the majority nover have the right to commit injustice in re- d to the minority. And the only judge of this rale which can be allowed 18 the principic.of ZEternal Justice as set forth in the Christian re- gion. ‘Education by the State is proving itself, in all ‘countries, A FAILURE,— £ho etumbling-block of every Government,—be- cause it is a matter in which the conscience is interested, and, although in o less degres, tho ssme arguments which csn bo justly nrged against s State Church can be with equal justics nrged sgainst a State education. One of the strongest of thesearguments is, that the Church becomes .in that case the mere tool of the Gov- ernment, and #o with edacation, As regards the statistics appealed to in Tnz TRIBUNE the other day, and very flippantly re- ferred to in & subsequent issue by one * Bob,” it is certainly an atter violation of good sense to fiy-in the face of such statistics, inasmuch a3 they sre based upon the ratio of crime to a cer- {ain number of the population in the varions Provinces of Bavaria. Undoubtedly they show in favor of edncation ; why should they not? Burely no one disputes the advantsges of educa- Hon from every point of view. What I would protest against 18 State_education—a_fortiori compulsory edacation. Let Catirolics provido for.the edncation of thoir own children under the supervision of OWN CHURCH. THEB . DENTED 1 Meare fully alive to the neceseity of educar | to learn the trade of our clergymen even more so. Witness the numerous educational establishments wo sup- port, notwithstanding that we pay, under du- ress, a tax for the support of schools which we do not like, and take advauntage of only 28 a pis aller. ' Moreover, it is enjoined on our Clergymen to establish and meintain & parish £chool wherover it can bo supported, under pain of mortal sin. Lot other Christians provide ed- ucation in their own way,and let the non- Christians maintain their own godless schools, But to return to statistics: The whole value of them ia to bo measured only when all the con- comitant circumstances are taken into account. Lot it_bo remembercd, therefore, that a large ‘Froportion of the CRIMES OF TIE BETTER CLASSES, who are educated. are not included in the statis- tics usually furnished us on this subject, for the reason that many of them are not punisbablo by law, and that the superior cducation of tha better classes frequently enables them to evado the law, where they are. Also, that these crimes—such as ofiicial peculation, political di bonesty, libertinism, abortion, &c.—are indi~ rectly as_injurions to the best interests of the commuuity 18 tho acts of thoso grosser criminals recorded in our prison-statistics. That nowhere do theso same unpunished crimes abound more then in our own enlight- oned America,—the lomo, par excellence, of public gehools., Further, that, probably, the Bavarisn schools referred to in THE TRIBUNE unite religigus with seenlar training. E The strong arm of the Iaw may bring children, ir et armis, fo school ; but it cannot make ther imbibe Christian principles with their a b c's and the rudiments of grammar. Nor will it reach farther than, even if ss far as, the per~ suasive invitations of religion and charity. Above all ehould Catholics oppose compulsory education, as the WEDOE FOR FURTHER LEGISLATION in the same direction. Tho next step will be ac~ cording to Bismarckian ideas and will compel us to send our children to tho public schools. Cnzpo. Statc Education Imperative to Dimin. ish Crime. 7o the Editor of The Chicago Tribune : Sm: I havo been interested in the discussion of the Compalsory Education bill in the columns of Tire TRIBUNE, editorially and by the pens of correspondents, and, s truth is generally reach- od by comparison of opposing views, I presamo Tz Tamose will ot object to hearing o word from the other side of the house, from one who contends that the enforcement of the biil wonld” be WHOLLY INOPERATIVE in producing what its advotates most londly pro- claim,—thoe dimination of erime. 1t is admitted that private right, in commauni- ties, must, in certain degree, be surrendercd to pablic good; but the benefit should .be very clearly defined that will enure to society baforo the State, or the majority,—~interchangeablo terms,—may warrantably encroach upon the sa- m‘-;d_ right of everyman to regulate his family affairs, The proposition tupon which is based all tho arguments of these promoters of State interferencs in family-affairs, that ig- norance of such education as the State may give iy the fruitful, almost gole, cause of crime, although one of our pet national fenets, held as sacred and high sbove contradiction’ as the truths from the Mount, I hold to be not only ‘untrue, but INCAPABLE OF PROOF, except by fallacious statistics, whose unreliabili- ity as critoria by which to judge of the impelling causes of crime will appear upon the most cur- gory examination. . It will not be denied, I presume, that of all the offenders against society, not more than half are ever comvicted of their miedeeds and named upon court-records 28 criminals ; and, of these, probably two-thirds are minor sinnors, guil- ty of breaches of the peace, larcenics, and other offenses dircctly attributed to poverty or whis- Ly, not to igoorance. But Iwish moro par- tietlarly to speak of the great moiety of uncon- victed, unarrainged sinners agsinst tho peace and property of society,—offenders whose crimes PROCLADI THEIR EDUCATION, and which these advocates of the ignored theory exclude from the Court. Does any one doubt that the sins againat purity committed annually in this city do Dot produce more Iasting misery, more soul-barrowing torture, more rending of femily- ties, more gocial degredation of men nad women, than all the larcenies, sssaults, and peity crimes that go on record in a decade ? And vet these offenses are committed by our intelligent Americans to such a degres that unchastity vies with _dishonesty, in the claim o bo cousidered the national vice. The very conditions under which this vice is indulged exclude its devotees from panish- ment, under laws which have no influence to stay its conrse; and it is only in the divorco- records—pustulary ovidences upon tho body social of the recking corruption of its blood— that we ses the indications of the monstrous evil it is doing, The sins azainst honesty, not one in & thon- sand of which ever is recorded against the name of its perpetrator in a criminal court, are fruit- ful'evidence thab SOME OTHER CAUSE THAN JGNORANCE must be sought as the inciting cause of crime. It is true that the ignorant offenders against this Sirtue, being unable to hedge themselves about with the ramparts from behind which educated villainy operates, suffer for their crimes, are immured in prisons, and used to strengthen the theory that vice and ignorance of the three R's 2re inseparzble. But the magnificens offend- ers who steal or defraud others of their thou- sands, sppesr in civil courts, If held amenable st all, 28 defendants in suits for damages, never appearing upon the record 28 _criminals. Miko ones, for stealing o few hundred dollars in val- ue from s wealthy corporation, goes to Joliot for ten- years : ¢vidence upon record that_illiteracy ia cfime. The educsied Driggs, who * bor- rowed " from poor newaboys. orphans, widows, and laborers £150,000, not only passes anrecor ed and unpunished, but is canonized in the heay- en of tho *‘smart” who live on other folks’ monoy. Not ignorance in any education which the State can give produces crime, but the ADSENCE OF MORAL CULTURE, the virtues of Lonesty, frugality, and temper- ance, which shine as steadily in the ignorant man'as in the scholar ; whoso presence will eu- noble a-hod-carrier, and for whose absence the education of a Colfax, of a Chandler, orof a Carpenter can nover atone. Edacate our pooplo moraily, and our liberty will nover be in danger. But this education must necessarily, by tho pusrauteed rights of our Constitution, be given the guardiana whom God has put over children, and whoso placo no Government, bo it Majority, King, or Emperor, can ever justly u!uhl}-n.w " One Step Turther, To the Editor of The Chicago Tribunc Sin : Now that the State of Ilinois has nobly taken her place in the front rank, on the march of civilization, by legielation to protect the right of every child to education, has it not, in princi- ple, agreed to DO BOMETHING MORE than guaranteo to it an opportunity to learn to read, write, and ciplier ? If the rightof every American-born citizen, of every infant brought to our shores, to threo months’ tuition every year be 8o sacred that it is secured against the carelessness or cupidity of parents or guardians, i8 not its right to such education as will it it to become a usefal mem- ‘ber of society admitted by the legislation which secures to it the reading and wrniting qualifica- tion? It surelyis. When the State suys, dis- tinctly, * Thisis my child; I am under obliga- tion to protect and edueate it,” it only acknowl- edges a fundamental truth ; but sending a child 1o school threo months every year is not educat- ingit. After the child has learned to read, it wants » trado ; wants some avocation by. which it can win bresd. I the parent may not prevent its scquirement of tiie art of reading, why may & Trades-Union provent it learning _tho carpenter business ? Ifa boy iass natural right to the key of knowledge in the alphabet, has he not, also A NATUBAL RIGHT to protection in learning to lay brick, if he wish to engage in that avocation ? One of the forms of Evropean tyrannies abont which we make spread-eagle speeches is the ob- structions by which individuals are prevented choosing their occupations. No boy can learn a trade without ission of his Government, and, while we denounce this as oppression, and boast of the inslienable right of any American to engago i any occupation he prefers, we have permitted Prades-Upions, for the most selfish purposes, to denyand trample under foot this Eacred right. No American boy or girl can be taught a trade without first winning the consent of a Trades-Union; and, 88 this consent will only be accorded to very limited number, cach aspirant must run the gauntlet for admission to any ghop, to learn any haodicraft, with ‘about as much chance of rojoction as aspirants for cadetship. I have known instance upon instance of boys, some of them sons of widows, who havo been THE RIGHT their choice,—have been s n which guardod the portals of that particular occupation.. We complain of the disproportionate incrense of thoe trading or mefeantile class, and of tho more thau plenty of doctors and lawyers. Itis even said that farming has been “run into the ground,” o that there is more corn than con- sumers; and we forget that these occupations aro opon to all; while no boy, bo he ever 80 anx- ions, may learn to bo 8 carpenter, & mason, & ‘molder, a printer, a mechanic of any kind, without firat roceiving permission from a Trades-Union. Tsit any wonder that house-rent is high when a few men have l.mcmopol{ of tho skill neces- sary to build comfortable dwellings? Is it strange that we pay & big price for cook-stoves, and coal to burn in them, when combinations of men prevent fair competition 1n the business of ‘making stoves and digging coal ? If the Legislature of Llinois would just go ONE STEP FURTHER in the direction in which it has made such praise- worthy progress, and seciro to overy boy and girl in the State the right to have n trade, or even compel parents and guardfans to have them taught some employment by which they could win honest_bread, it would bavo done’ morc toward gettling finances on a pormauent basis than will bo accomplished by all thé plans pre- sented and likely to be,in Congross, this presont year of financial plans, besides securing a largo ‘Prospective cleariug out of jails and Peniten- tiaries, JANE GREY SWISSHELM. -THE STUDY OF THE MODERN LANGUAGES. BY PROF. WILLIAM MATIEWS, OF THE UNIVERSITY oF cueago. That the study of foreignlanguages is & neces- sary part of & liberal education, is a proposition which few intelligent porsons will at this day dispute. The records of thought and kuowl- cdge are many-tongued; and, therefore, asn ‘means of encyclopedic culture,—of that thoroagh intetlectual equipment which is so imporiously demanded of overy scholar, and eveu thinker, at the prosent d: -2 knowledgze of foreign liter~ ature, both ancient and modern, 1S ANSOLUTELY INDISPENSABLE. Familiarity with foreign languagos liberalizos the mind in tho ssme way as foreign travol. The Emperor Charles V. once said that to learn a new language was to acquire a new soul. The man who ig fa miliar only with the writers of his native tonguo is in dangar of confounding what is accidental with what is essontial, and of sup- posing that manners and customs, tastes and Libits of thought, which belong only to his own age and country, aro inseparable from the nature of man. Acquainting himself with foreign liter- atures, he findsthat opinions which hohad thought to be universal, and feelings which he bad sup- posed instinctive, have been nnknown to millions, Ho thus loses that ~ CHINESE CAST OF MIND, that contempt for everything outside of his own narrow circle, which was a foe to all sclf- koowledge and to all self-improvemont. Ho doubts where ho formorly dogmatized: ho tolerates where he formerly exccrated. Quali- f5ing tho sentiments of the writers of his own age and country with the thougkts and #enti- ments of writers in other ages and other coun- tries, ho ceascs to bow slavishly to the authority of those who breathe the same atmosphere with bhimeelf, and with whose idiosyncracies ho is enrapporl. He daclines henceforth to accept their opinions, to make their tastes his tastes, and their prejudices his prejudices; and thus avoids that mental slavery which is baser than the slavery of the body. While wo thus approciate the value of lin- guistic studies to tho few who have the time and money for thorough culture, wo yet doubt whether tho study of foreign langusges, to the extent that fashion now exacts, is WISE OR PROFITABLE. That an Englishman, Frenchman, or German, even though a business-man, should deem & knowledge of them notonly usefal, but even vital to his worldly succees, we can understand. There is hardly a_commercial houso of any note in England that does not sell goods to Germany, France, Switzerland, Sweden, or Russin; hence every such houso must have em- ployes to conduct ita foreign correspondence, and a knowlodge of foreign tongues is, there— foro, one of tho best recommendations with which o young man seeling a clerkship can be armed. The ssme is true of Germany and France; but WO WILL FEETEXD that such is the fact in this country? If, in- stead of all speaking & common tongue, the Tastern, Northern, Southern, Western, and Mid- dle Stases of onr conntry spoke 28 many lan- guages, the lingnal nacessities of our merchants and manufscturars would be similar to those of the great business-houses of Europe; but, as the facts are, no such nccossities ex- ist. It is truo we have a few houses that do business with Enrope; and it is trmo, also, that, in = fow of onr largest cities, there are many forcigners who cannot speak English; but, everywhero elso, linguistic knowledge is of little practical use. The question is not whether & knowledgs of Fronch and Germsn is desirable per se, but whether it ianot too dearly purchased. Is it worth the heavy tax which our youth pay for it ? Cannot the wenry days, weeks, months, and even years, which are spent in acquiring what, after oll, is usually but the merest smattaring of thoso tongues, bo MORE PROFITABLY SPEST upon English literaturo and the sciences ? There is ardly anysubject upon which 80 much illasion prevails as upon the supposed caso with which a modern languago cau bo mastered. Wa hear it daily remarked that French and Italian are very easy, and that Germaa, though presenting some difliculties, is by no means hard to acquire. Now the truth, to which sooner or later, every stu- dent ia forced to open his eyes, is, that the ac- quisition of any language, as Mr. Lincoln said of tho crushing of the Rebellion, is *a big job.” The mastering of a forcign tongue, even tho easmest, is tho work, not of & day, but of years and yesrs of STERN, UNREMITTING TOIL. Mr. Homerton, the suthor of ““The Intel- lectual Life,”—a most competent judge,—lays down the following two propositions, tested by a large expericnce, s unassailable. 1. When- evers foreign language is perfectly acquired, there are pecaliar family conditions. The per- son ha3 either married a person of the other nation, or is of mixed blood. 2. A langnage cannob be Jearned by sn adalt withont five years' residenco in tho country where it is spoken ; and, without habits of closo observa- tion, s residence of twenty years is insufficient, Mr. . forther adds that one of the most ac- complished of English linguists remarked to him that, after much observation of the labors of others, ho had come to the rather discourag- ing conclusion that it was NOT POSSIBLE TO LEARN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE. This is an extreme position ; but, if by *le ing a language” is meant a thorough acqnisition of it, so that one can speak snd write it like a native, we believe that the statement is impreg- nable. Of course, we except the fow prodigies of lingnistic genius,—tho Magliabecchis and tho Mezzofantes, of whom but one appeersin a century,—men who, as De Quincey ezys, in the act of dying, commit a robbery, abscon ding with = valuable polyglot dictionary. Will it be said, in reply, that s knowledge of a foreign language may fall short of perfect, yot Do of great practical and even educational valae ? We admit it; but we do mot be- lieve that tho smattering which tho great majority of our yonng men and women get,—and which is all fhey can get in most cases, —can POSSIDLY ENRICH THEM INTELLECTUALLY. As Mr. Hammerton jastly urges, until you can really feel the refinements of a language, you can got little Delp or furtherance from it of any kind,—nothing but an interminable series of misunderstandings. *True culturo ought to strengthen the faculty of thinking, and to pro- vide the material upon which that noble faculty may operate. An accomplishment which does neither of these two things for us is nscless for our culture, though it may bo of considerable practical convenience in the affairs of ordinary life.” : 3 Ho ia & poor economist who looks only at the | dealer for fifteen years.—D value of an cost. If o young man can begin his studiesearly and eontinue them till his 21st year, bysll means let lum study French and German. Bat in no case would we have him study those tongues at the expense of utter ignorance or tho mercst surface-knowledge of his own langusge and its literature, and of the physical sciences. That the two latter branches of knowledge are FAR MORE ESSESTIAL than the former to both his success and happi- noss, wo cannot doubt. Unfortunately, the ma- Jority of our young men sre compelled to plunge 1nto business go early that they are compelled to elect between the two acquisitions ; they cannot bave both. TFor such persons to choose the Fronch and German, and noeglect the sciences and their own noblo tongue and its literature, is 24 abgurd as it would be for a lsborer to stint himself all tho year in meat or bread that he may enjoya few baskets of strawberries in April. We yield to no'ono in our admiration of Mon- taigne, Pascal, Moliere, Couvier, and Sainte- Bouve, or of Gaetho, Schiller, Lessing, Richter, and Heino; but wo do, novertheless, acho most heartily the words of Thomss De Quincey,— himself a consummate linguist,—whon he de- clares that ““IT IS A PITIADLE SPECTACLE £0 8 man of gonse and fecling, who happens to be really familiar with the golden tressures of his own sncestral litersture, and a spectacld which moves alternately scorn and sorrow, to s00 young people squandering their time and painful study upon writers not fit to unloose the shoes’ latchets of many amongst their own com- patriots; making painfal and remote voyages after the drossy refuse, when tho pure gold lies weglected at their feet.” ‘Wo are fully convinced that even the literary man, though he cannot dispense with a familiar- ity with tls modern languages, pays a high price for his knowledge. Here, a3 evorywhero else, tho law of compenaation holds. Familiari- ty with foreign idioms almost ipvarinbly injures an author's style. e know that the Romans, in exact proportion to their study of Greok, paralyzed some of tho fincst powers of their own lsoguage. Schiller tells us that he was in the labit of reading as little as possible in foreign tongucs, becauso it was his busincss to write Germsn, and he thought that, by rend- ing other langunges, he should ) LOSE HIS NICER FERCEPTIONS of what belonged to his own. Thomas Maore, who was a fine clagsical scholar, tells us that the perfect purity with which the Greeks wrote their { own language was justly attributed to their enlira_abstinence from any other. It i noto- cious that Burke, after ho took to reading the pamphlets of the French terrorists, mever wroto so pure English as he did betore. Gib- bon, who boastod that his Essuisur I Etude de la Litlerature wis taken by the Parisians for the production of one of their ovn countrymen, paid for the idiomatic purity of his French by the Gallicisms that deform the “De- clme and Fall.” . Our young men might be pardoned for making dome sacrifices to scquire o knowledge of the modern lauguages, if suchs knowledge were ‘necessary as 8 key to thoir literatares; BUT IT IS NOT. - Nearly all tho masterpicces have becu trans- Iated into English. We are aware of the objec- tions to translalions; thoy are, st best, s Cervantes said, but * the reversefsido of tapes- try;” but how many of our young men and women, who Liavo not time or money for s liberal education, are likely to enjoy tho onginals better than tho translations that are executed by sccom- plighed linguists ? Notono in fifty. If a man of 50 exquisite a tasto as Mr. Emerson prefers, as ho tells us, to read forcign works in translations, is it a¢ 2ll Jikely that * Young America,” with Lis almost ntter ignorance of the niceties and deli- cacies of the modern languages, will lose much Dy imitating his example? If you cannot enjoy Carlylo's Withelm feister, Cotton's Montaigne, or Longfellow's Dante, you must be either a pro- digions scholar or a prodigious dunce, Wo say, then, in conclusion, if you are & man of loisure, or Liave time and means for a liberal education, Dy all means study French and German, and, if you can, Spanish and Italian; but, if you are to begin life at 18 or 20, LET SPIERS AND ADLER ALONE. When you have mastered the gisnts who wrotein your mother-tongue,—when tho great works of Chaucer, Shakspeare, Hooker, Bacon, Milton, Swift, Wordsworth, Byron, Mill, Tenny- son, and all our other representativo authors, love passed like the iron atoms of the blood into your mental constitution, it will be timo to go abrond after “ fresh fields and pastures now.” But do not, we beg of you, indulge the foolish ambition of becoming a polyglottist when you caunot write s grammatical loiter in your mother-tongue, sud have never read & page in half of its best writers. A SAILOR'S YARMN. Well, mate, you've asked me to spin you s yarn: T'm not mich of a hand, for 1 never vould larn, Like book-reading folks, to polish a talo: Y'm nearer to home when I shorten a sail, Or climb by the ropes to the gallant-crosstrees, As we scud *fore the wind or rollin the seas, Wit matter’s it, though ? Esch one has a trade* S6 I'll nover say 10 to » social comrade, "Tis two-score years, with a year.or two Thrown in, 0 that *twill come nearer trus {You see I'm not scared lite Jubbers I'se known Who would think it o crime their ages to own); Since I sigued for & voyage o the African ¢oast, The timo as a year, or two at the most. I shipped a8 “ordinars,” I was then sixteen,— Tather young, but since ten a sailor I'd been. Our ahip was 3 new one, just lsanched on the wave; Our Captain an old ealt, we hafled him s Deve; And the crow that he Inustercd ‘were * old-timers then, ‘Excopt L and another young fellow ealled Ben, o, mate, you know, when two boys are thrown Together *Mmoug a crowd of old tars, and alone, They're sure to be {riendly, snd always will cium And share with each othier their bacca and rum, W were ot from port just {hreo months to a day, When we dropped the anchor in a rock-bound bay, And Iy in shiore till it happened dark, When wo shipped our eargo aboard tho bark, Thuree hundred Aumant,—as wretched & lot As over a glaver bartered or caught; Not one of the crowd but had grim despair Plain in his face; it was written there, We were safling sgain before the night Had its veil uplifted by the hand of light ; And our cargo was stowed below i the hold, Like hogs in o pen, or sheep in 3 fold. "Tyyas tho first 1 63w of the devilish trade, And I tell you, mate, it made me afraid Of God's just vengoance. Iwas young at the time, And my heart was appalied by the villiinous erime, We salled seven days with a favoring wind, And had left the land many leagues ehind, Just after my watch, in my hammock I lay, Taking my comfort, while smoking a clay, When Ben eamo in with 5 faco o nalo As » ghost, or a felon who'd just broko jall, ‘And, whispering, sald in accéots low, . i Thle fever's broke out 'mong the croied below Oh, mats! my hesrt with fright gave s lesp, - Ani the blood in my veins with terror did creep. 1 biad heard men beforo tell with quivering lip OF the Lorrors that reign in 3 fover-struck ship. I went on deck : the Captain was there, And tho rest of the crew were lingering near. e approached us and said, * You know how it catches; We must look to ourselves,—5o batten the hatches I Some murmured 3 little; but what could we do? He waa the Captain, and wo were the crew; ‘And those land-laws, you kuow how they treat us when The Captzdn is meddied with by any of the men. So we battencd the hatches, and prisoned the crow Of wretches below—in a Lofinless shroud. Oh! I'll never forget their fierce cries of doom, As we shut them up in their horrible tomb, Ere the day went by, there wero three of us eick, ‘And two Lefore morn,—it catcles you quick, Then tho Captain he spoko to the Fest, aud swora Hu'd be blowed if Le'd stick to the ship any more, They lowered the two bonts, and loft us that dsy., Helpless and raving, in our hammocks we lay: Not a friend was by to comfort or cheer, And tne plash of the waves wasall we could hear, e drifted along for two weeks or more, With never a sight of a fxiendly shore, * or ever a glance of 3 passing sail, Nor ever a sound of a welcome Thcre wera threo of us left when a ship went past ‘And saw the signal I hung to the mast ; Just saved us in time from » terrible fate, And they scattled tha ship with the Atiman freight. Caicago, Jaxtes LAvALLIN, —Owing to the slippery condition of the side- walks Daubury pcople bave fallen into the habit of sereaming ** Good! " with one 0.—Among the conversions accomplished in the lnte Reading re- gival wanthat of 3 man who had boen a ooal- ews. FRENCH “ART AND ‘ARTISTS, |msters 1663 llnstrated these features, and preseuted, i addition, certain noticeablo and distinguishing marks of their own. Dubufe and ‘- His Contem-, poraries. . The Ecole des Beaux Arts of Paris ===Student-Life. . Dubufe and His Contemporaries, ‘Edouard Dubtfe, whose ‘ProdigalSon” is ind few or no other nations paint them The Exhibition of 1367and the Salon of With regard o the dearth of landseapes, of all tho French pictures of the Great Exposition I recall but one landscspo with pleasure, ing in the Marshes of Derry,” gliding amongjthe tall reed bia lifted. ri fiying up 'from ' their cool coverts, shaking the drops from their glassy wings,—all indicated o genuine studont and lovet of Nature, but did not commend the nume of the painter to public notoriety. Shoot- The littlo boat 'ho sparteman with 0; and the snipe and wild ducks ‘Che battle-painter of the Exposition wag TV ON. now atiracting 8o much sttention in our city, is | The chief merit of his pictures is tha spirited one of the rate instances of the descent of a apecial talent from father to son. The *Adam and Eve of the clder Dubnfo was probably one of the first mastorpieces of the modern French school ever brought to this " coentry; and tho art-lovers-of the preceding generation aro not noss of the face of his Evo, and the magnifi- cent effects of light and color displayed in her golden hair. As the pupil of Paul Delaroche, and the reputed inheritor of some of bis traits, action of the prominent figures, and the skill with which tho attention is_concentrated on one central point of interast. characteristics causes too many battle-scones to present _either obscurs massés burrying to a point not clearlydetined, or a number of separate figureszi.u whose action lfihure i8 Do unity, no im- . i i | portant momient,—without a perception of Fot weary of dwelling on the excceding loveli hich, tho upectator is rarely. imm‘;_fi o battles also possess that, lacking which & battle- scene lacks everything,—tho instantaneous per- caption by the spectator of tho nationality of the combatants. InYvon's ‘*Malakoft Tower," the officer who stands on tho highest pointandsignals ‘Che absanca of these These Dubufo possesses an additional clalm to our | iy, pig white-gloved hand, has cliosen the very interest.” L On o first inspection of a work of art, nothing 18 moro natural than the desire to discover how far it is representativo of & school or anation; to determine the era of itaauthor, and his rank among his contemporarics. In certain respects, as regards subject and treatment, Dubufe’s “Prodigal” is thoroughly representative; in others, it is as decidedly either an anachronism or & revival. - J i ‘The modern school of Freich painting divides itself readily into 2 THREE DISTINCT ERAS, each marked by strong individual traits. The art of & nation, like its speech and manners, is & direct outgrowth of its lite and prevailing ideas. | less beautifal thoa voluptuons. fairneas is rendered ‘more striking by contrast with the swarthy tints of Adam, who, sullen and angry, displays none of the dignity of manhood. Thero is, bowover, something of power in tho ‘posture, particularly in the fignra of Satan ; sud the aamo is truo of the Nymph, where one can scotho yielding of tho delicato flesh to the prossuro of the rudo flngers,—but it is power repulsive rathor than attracuve. The art of these three eras is no exception to this rule. The firat erais that immediately fol- lowing the Rovolation. The French Rovolution wis an mp- Dbenval of society from _its fonndations. With sl its excosses, its motive was grand. It was tho attempt of the soul to throw off_tho mountainous oppressions under which it hind £0 Jong beon buried. The men who, after tho destraction of the old order of things, found | themselves dirccting the now state of affairs, | i8 desired, abovo everything, to start society ane ta go back to first principles : to restore primi tive modes and manners. In the sttempt to realize this ides, thoy wont back, curiously | 8t enun{.:, not to the simple ideas of God and Na- | hi ture, but to JUPITER AND THE GODDESS OF NEASON ; not to the simplicity of an_ ideal Republic, but 1o the effete traditions of the Roman Common- swealth. The tyrants of the Reign of Terror af- fected the nir of Bratus. the nusterities of ato. | ck Tlo robes’of Tullia, of Cornelis, and of Aspasia, algo, wero the models for those which filled Joscphine's drawiog-rooms. Their first 2t ecxecutive oflicr took tho ot Consul. The antique became tho rage; overything must - bo “classical.” | fre. Art_could not remain uninfluenced by tho pre- vailing manis : it, aleo, must be elzssical. In point of subjects this was hardly & new _thing, In the reigns of Louis XIV. ond Louis XV., the Whole Greek and Roman mythology scemed to havo been poured out upon cauvas, displayed on the walls and ceilings of gghceu, petrified in the fountains of Versailles. But the classical art of the Revolutionary period partook of the spirit of the tmmos,—it was serions, dignified, sovere, both in subject and treatment. It songht.the heroic rather than the besutifal. Tho great art- ist of the period was of m DAYID. The host of imitators who succeeded him, aod who dragged DLis ideas to the extreme limits of conventionhlity and absurdity, are, perhaps, responeible for the smeers which 80 often sccompeny the men- tion of Dasid's works by modern critics ; but the genins of tho French people and tho spirit of a great epoch are surely 1n his masterpisces. “The Rapo of the Sabines,” “ Tho Thres Ho- ratii,” * Brutus,” and * Helen snd Paris,” are DRAMAS UPON CANVAS. There ia in ench of them one figure or_group to whick everything Is subordinate; one ides which 5 you; one supremo momont which thrills you with the force' of an electric rhock. ~This spirited, impassioned, beautiful Sabine, who springs between husband and brother, and flinging out her arms, with one ma ent movement, eays to tho crosded Swort Pause !"—these three heroic, youthfnl figures, who touch simultancously the point of the stern father's aword, and utter with one voice the golemn: **I swear!"—are wonder- fol_exampléa of bis power. Tho * Helen”— unlike inost of his pictures, Which aim st what ig grand rather tban lovely—is exquisitely besn- tifal. Renowned as s the present school in tho reproduction of flesh-tints, I do not think any ono has surpassed this rosy, almost translucent flosh, the marvelously-molded arms, the drapery like that of the antique sculptors. This 13 HOMER'S HELEN, before whose beauty the chiefs bowed rever- ently on the wails of Troy; and Paris, thongh nude except helmet and sandals, is, like AMil- ton's Adam, “‘in native honor clad,” as chaste and noble & figure a8 tho bas-reliefs on the Par- thenon. After]David and his imitators came a new school,—a great group of great men,—who, leaving behind them antiquity and classic mod- els, attempted to fl‘" upon cenvas the actual life of the remarkablo period jus! elapsed; to illustrate tlie weer and ~tho far past of France. ‘This is the g MOBT TRULY NATIONAL of all her schools or eras. Gros and Horace “Vernet puinted tthe great battle-flelds of Na- oleon, .with that striking and characteristic figure concentrating ail glanceson iteelf ; Dela- croix represented ‘“The 28th of July, 1730—Lib- | D ‘rty Guiding tho Nation.” Dolarocho produced Lis famous picturo of ** Marie Antoinette Going to Exccution,” and tho celebratad “ Napoleon and the King of Rome,”—now ono of tho chiof | let treasures of Fontaineblenu. More than any other painter of his own or later time, Delarockio combined smootliness of oxecution with grandeur | H of subject, dignity with beauty. To the great | te Listoric puintings of this group belongs, also, the v ca K *J0A¥ OF ARO” th of Ingres. Trance had a right to demand that her art should embalm this beautiful figure of her early day, which the English Shakespearo blarred, and the Freach histotiaus ofhis day did not estoro. “The Jeanne Darc of Ingres Baan fair, heroic” face, with golden hair which falls down over her armor, CI in complete mail, she bears the white flzg of France; her calm, Rerious eyes are filled with thonght, of her work and not of self. : The great painters of this period did not, how- ever, confine themselves to historic subjects, The French Eshibation of 1855 was the Field Doy of the R:imm of this school and ora,— their Gresat Roview. The younger generation of critics and students, who know that collcction by report ouly, will not goon forget the mournful peans chanted over it by the Veteran critics of tho Exposition of 1867. One of the most re- markable paintings of this middle era is the | m: ‘masterpiece of Coutnre, i “‘THE DECADENGE OF THE BOMANS,” ~noy tho chief ornament of the Luxembourg. Curtig’ “ Potiphar-Papers ” contain an adumirablo | g8 description of this picture,—a deseription with | gi & mora! for Americans ; 28 Conturg intended bis picture to embody one. for ‘the French. A street m Rome, in the latter Quys of the Repablic, when luxury had destroyed virtue, and vice monliness; a group of gay vioters, in whose actions and attitudes is dis- played the utter abandon of dissipation and | voluptuousness,—constitute the principal ele- ments of the picture. Near them, two marble figures of their early heroes look down on the group ; to whose calm, impassive faces o mad youth uplifts his goblet of wine. But the faces of the banqueiers aro not Roman,—they are Parisian _types of the painters day. The pic- ture, at the time of its completion, was an evi dence and & prophecy : the degradation of Paria had already begun. The next Great Beview of the French painters was . sl THE EXPOSITION OF 1867. ar “ Tho Prodigal Sou” of Dubulo was painted in | jt, 1866. This last era, therefore, -iy that of his contemporaries, These thrae exas—nll eras, in fact, of French art; Lowever different in some respects—have certain traits in common. These features may, therefore, bo considored as charac- teriatic of French painting. 2lost prominent of these is the great preference of their painters of scenes representing men and their actions over thoge depicting Nature and her attributes. ** The proper study of mankind is man,” is the creed of the majority of French art- and The « Paradise represents Eve, overcomo by griet, weeping at tho foct of Adam. On tho lef: cronches the Great Enemy of mankind ; and above, the Creator, surronnded by Angels, is looking down upon all. Tio figure of Eve is titlo | crowned and complacent. 8weopil of Pierrot,” between moske dim wood, 'the atmosphore_charged with snow. Thero is nothing revolting in Gorome's rendering of death, but something remarkable in ttio pailor with which e jnvesta it,—s draining of every tint and trait of lifo from the face. His choica of sab jects conveys an iCusof the icstocall Lis brush that of = copyist. ‘more than that,—there issomething terribly thrill ing in the absolutely-fiendish exultationof th Thero are. studies of artists like Toulmouche,—charming littio folks in fauitless toileta; sccoudly, the aspects of what Parisians considor rural life, by Millet and Braton,—such as * The Teapers,” “The Rakers,” the country will find it hard to idealize, and which secm an attempt to immortalize medioc- rity a8 fruitless as Wordsworth's introduction of 180 wash-tub into poetry. some episode an Apglo-Saxon, allied to crime to be painted in other tints than those of tragedy; something to magnify the material pleasurca of existence, to depreciate the infiuence of the spiri of Victor Girzud—who ceived the honors of the Lusembonrg, and whose ** Husband's Retnrn * received the modal of 1368-—~were striking and painful evidence of that degradation which the German swords disclosed, bug did pot prodnce. And this brings ns to Qashing military paiuters; such a8 Gerome Guardians of Turkegs and Sheep-Tenders; far But b bles written * not foran age, but for all time," and read thence to his countrymen a moral, like that of Couture: he has attempted to depict, with all the resources of his art, the bittorness of the ending of 5 life devoted’ solely to the pleasures of the senses. And yet heis not an anachronism. The treatment of his subject is f,’ his own age, and not of Delaroche’s. 1) known names Science. Such men a3 Gerome, Cabanel, Pills, Taine, Duval, Zvou, and many more of Like repu- tation, are not nominally, but actively, connect- ed with the institution,—each giving two haif- days in tho week to his special depactment. Tho edifices themselves, comploted ia 1838, ate 50 vast 28 to warrant the exclamation of s visitor, made afew days since: * Why ! this isa village!” One waunders from cowrt to court, around esture which bis favorite actor at the Theatre ‘rancais would have emploged in like circum- stances ; and this vory trait ouables the French representation of batiles to Le at onco moro spirited and moro nstural than that of less dramatic nations. “Ihio Lo great painters of the Exposition ers aro Gerome tud Cabsnel. Properly speaking, CABANEXL, Qoos not deservo the adjective “groat” which Tmperial _favor _bestowed upon him. > iy ictares are “ Paradise Lost” ost ambitions Carriecd O by a Faon." “A Nympl Hero oxtreme GEROME unquestionably the most remarkable of the group of painters to which he belongs. Bosido Cabanel's large canvas and erude colors, his wonderful fuish aud dolicacy are still moro ing. Iis subjects are chiefly classical, but is types and treatment are not only modern, but Parisian. His ““ Death of Cmsar™ appears somewhat faulty, in that it concentrates atten- tion on the white-robed Senators, rather thanon the Lody of tho Dictator. His ‘orituri Te Salutant” is much finer. A group of half- othed gladiators, whose powerful muscles scem in pitiful contrasz to their haggard faces, bend their haggard features to & show of revéroce as they approach the scat whore Augastus sits, On the left, tho g curves of tho magoificent amphiliea- er after tior of restless faces looking e, down indiffercntly on the attendants dragging out the bodies of what a few moments sgo wero on like these. Very striking, too, in his * Duel combatants in & FECULIARITY OF 1I8 GEX) A Butcher-Boy of Jerusalem ;' 8: *‘The Heads of the Bioys Before a Gate 1n Constantinople ;" ‘The Prisoner;” * Phryne Defors the Tri- Dbunal.” In theso grim heads heaped up before the Oriontal gate ; in theso limpid waves of the Bosphorus, over which floats_the bont bearing this wrotched captive, bound Land and foot; the satin akin of this famous beauty,—thero s marrelons Snencas which lesds some rit- o is vage captors over their prisoner ; but what sorvice these remarkable studies shall rander to Art and Morals, it is moro difficult to determine. If we speak of Moissonuier, with bis liliputian nvases, and bis dashing littlo Coptains; and Rosa Bonhour, whose Scottish heaths, with their wild Highland ponies, give ono o feeling of fraodom and freshuods ot often met with in Fronch galleries,—wo havo left throo varieties of the FRENCH PAINTISG OF TO-DAY. for instauce. the drawing-room Turkoy Potatoe-Plator,” “ The Lich tho lovers of coper, “The But. in the French salons immediately pre- ceding the war, the pictures before which the crowd was alwnys densest, which occupied thoe Inrgest spaco in the daily feuilletons, wore al- ways somo scene from that life of the theatros an tho gas-light which, if Art cannot ignore, IT NEED SEVER PERPETUATE; in domestic life which. to secmed too mearly Pictures like those * Slave-Market” re- his pleture.” These theso realists, and Cabanel;- these ubnfe ~ au great 84 these exalters of the senses above the spirit, of tho body abovo the soul of Act,— ART NOT IS CONTENPORATIES. o belongs far moro to tho school of his mas- r, to Delaroche, to Ary Scueffor, to Couture. Tor the subject of his picure is drawn, not from Mexican battle-ficlds, nor yet from tha eatres or drawing-rooms of the Paris of 1866. Lias gone 0 the old repository of Para- He SPOTLED THFE PHILISTINES. The daring affrontal of every:difficulty of foro- ¢hortening and varied attitudes, the woalth of his coloring, and its characteristics, are part of the redeeming features of modern French painting ; 80 also ure the remarkablo individuality and wonderfal lifo of his separate focos. Somothing, too, he may Do said to have taken from the I orspective " displayed in his talian age and asters whence he borrowed- bis costumes. at we welcomo it as & revival of the aim and mission of art, 80 Jong lost sight of in France ; and a4 & prophc genius of Frenoh Att, 8o long dwelling in re- that the riotous and degraded ions foreign to truth and purity, may before long return to that SPIRIT OF IDEAL BEAUTY against which it hus so beavily siuned, and bring coneolation to the land which has been lately & ‘mourner among nations. CuanLEes LANDOR. e Ecole des |Bearx Arts of Parises Student-Life, Correspondence of The Chicago Trivune, PaRts, Jan. 15, 1874, Nearly all in America have heard of the great Ecole des Deaux Arts of Paria; but very fow, probably, know the enormous proportions thia Art- Propsganda? (so to speak) of the modern French school has attainod. It is by far the LARGEST AND MOST LIBERALLY-SUPPLIED hool of the world, and the painters, sculptors, chitects, and lecturers who give their time to sro all of the strongest and best in Art, Literature, and its. Wide strotches of woodland, fields | charming little gerdens, throngh vast of waving grain, -sedgy moraescs with | halls, and from building to building, un- their myriad inhabitants,—liko Vertunni's ex- | til he loses his way, and is fain to quitite studies of the Pontine Marshes,—~no one scquainted with the inborn contempt of the French for country-life could expect a young artist to risk his reputation on scenes like thesa. BATTLE-PIECES call in the services of the attendant guardian to show him out, for which polite attention he dis- burses the usial number of centimes. Let us gee how the stadents THEIR DAY. . PABS L Lhnvc always been favorite subjects of Fronch |. Leaving the Trilerios, we cross the Pont des Saint Pires, and, tarning down tho Quai Tuo Bonapirts, are iy sinie mhes e e citiets of tho Latin Quarter. - About baif » bl from the river, wo come upon an immensq coy. surrounded on_all sides by worky st of difforent sges. This is fraveres in _company with Tmany other stndege foritis about8 aclock a. m., and tho medeg pose at that hour. We enter tho great bijdoy of tho “ Slusce,ome 250 feat aquare, contaiey, four large Lalls, filled with casts. studios, Jes ture-rooms, library, ete. All thesoare beaut; gugyn:nnmentlndf. Up the broad stairs totho see. oud etory, and, foliowing an arc} i its end, %6 fnd oarselveg . 2oed cormidor to i _ GEROME'S 8TUDIO, This does not mean the private studio of Ger. ome, which is in another quarter of Paris; bat ¢ means & room in which abont sity youny. me wotk from tho nude model, both 'in deawies and paintiog, and whero the great master somes twice 8 week, punctual as clockwork, oxamimies and eriticising what each has done. ~ Hp spends the entiro morning there, as tho Btudents “giving us_his “semi-weekly blossing,” Hay anick, severe, and_impartial. Daring bis sta. the room is quietand orderly; buk, at vthep times, it is often Pandemoniuam, to which 3 foo, earthqankes would be a swoet and blissfal salg in comparison, Suddeuly tho door opens, o gome youth, armed with the propor anthymis. seeks admittanco. PR B g 5 dzccix,m “ XOUVEAT;” e i8 groeted with crics. kisses, and = Loudor and_lonJor sweil tha crlos of s N veau!" intersporsed with such_pleasant, spicy remarks on his personal appearance as the fapey of the students may suzges. “Oh! how hang. somo v 81" * What a monstache!™ Loy at bis hut!" % He squints!” “Ordor, gentier men! The Emperor of Russia would ke fy makons & specch!™ &e. Firat ho pays by **bienvenn " to tho studio. Tnis is diecration. ary in smount, but imperative,—usually 2, After wiich, a doputation conducis Lim to tne neighboring street, whero an investment is mady in o things, viz.! a bagkot of rolls (crolsuas) and some bottles of ** 3ele-Cassis, " thig lass being & vile decoction of blackbarry-wine and braods. Thesa ara run past the slooping guar. dinp, and received with wild mavifestations of Tapture by tho studio. After sich ‘one has jb- sorbed his allowanca of * elo-Cassis,” aud par- taken of a croissant (the French student eats out of compliment to hia stomach, whether hy waats it or not), tha ** Nouveau " is mounted on the modal's stand, and oblized to sing. Thy worso tho masic, the botter they Tiko it : doma screaming, Goon!” otliors, ** Enough! " 1il, ot last, tho poor fellow, his braia whirling, isallowed to descand, o loazer an object for their misths, but not yet free, for his is tho pleas ant duty of GOING OX ERRANDS ; ‘buying two conts’ worth of binck soap for wash- ing brushes ; carrying tho towels to the laundry, &c. Bometimes diguity reoels ; but, sooner of Iater, each one takes his tarn. Of course, neith- er the peying of the * bienvenn,” nor the system of hinzing, iss supported by the authoritica; bt in this, 23 in nearly all olher institutions of fha gort, it seems impossible to prevent them, and, in spite of all the turmoil, the amdunt of ‘work done in the week ix wonderfal,—for, of coure, these rowsare only occasional. ‘This descrips tion is of but one studio; tho same will answer, ho ever, for all the others. THE MODELS OF PATIS are fair.—no 50 good, periaps, on the vercgs, 29 in Rome. Female modelsare generaly fine, Dbut not plentiful. The ‘““pose”at the Bosnk Arts is four hours and a half,—that is, from 8 there are thirty minutes of rest. Between balf-past 12 and 1 o'clock, " breakfast occupies ourattention ontirely,—ths Americans and English frequenting the same restaarant ; aftgkr whicl tie lectures commence, and werush to ANATONY. Thisisin a puilding ou the opposite side of the court, where Prof. Dusal keeps us intorested dur- ingan hour. Nothing is wanting in the wayof illustrations for these lectures. Shelotons, anatomical figures, casts, and dead subjects, are in aboadance. At theside of the lecture-hall, and conpecting with it is tho ‘dissectiug-room, furnished with subjocts and open to the st deuts. 9 Trom Anatomy to STORY ¢ This branch belozgs to M. Taine, with whoss works all Axt-lovers are familiar. We sit in the eat lecture-roomm of the Beanx Arts. ack of us is the masterpicco by Paal Delaroche, ** The Hemicycle,” on which the artist worked ~ three years, Teceiving 80,000 fraucs for his labor. M. Taine confines himself, during this month, to Grocce and Gre- clan Art. Othordays of the week have their courses of Perspectiyo Archeology, &c. The splendid library, opeén all day, furnishesfor iese lectures plates of Architecture, Costumes, and Anatomy. At 4 o'clock commences again the classes of Drawing and Modeling ; and 80, day after da, this vast machine moves. A few words as to TS WORRING. The Beaux Arts is uider the immediate con- trol of, and m{porind entirely by, the Fronch Goveramneut, Everything is’ provided on the most liberal seale. Nearly all the artists and professors who direct it aro members of the ¢ Institute,” Singular enough, their remunera- tion is merely nominal.—scarcely enough to pay for a carriage to and from the Latin Quarter stition is considerable ; it marks a man as hold- ing & high position in hiy profession. Then, too, the painter or sculptor teaching hers founds a echool in his method, handing 1t dowa to the next generation through' his pupils. L introduce here SOME STATISTICS obtained from the Secretary. The school wes founded about 1613, under Louis XTV,—its com- mencement being small. It contains now: Three studios of Drawing and Palating.... Three studios of Sculpture. . Thres studios of-Architecturs, One studio of Catting on Copper.... One stadio of Medals.... Total... NCOUES - ainting and Sculpture tako place every sis months, called * Concours de Places,” which simply entitle tho succossfal student toa place in othor concours. Every month there are con- cours of metal-cutters; every three months, concours of composed 8kotches; every X ‘months, concours of the wholo figure. In Archi- tectura, the conconrs take place every alterpste month, At the end of these, medals are gived of the first, sccond, and third degrees,—~the firdt being the Grand Prizo of Komo. “Ihe French Governmant DOES NOT STOP HERE, . but complotes its_good work; for he who wins the prizo at the end of the year is sent to Roms, whoro his Gorernment supports Lim Liberally for three years, that he may study the Ol Masters; after whicls 1t buys his first picture, aud he starts in the world with tho_Lindly help and. b odspecd of its sirong arm. E e Tieaux Arta i open and froo foall. For- eigners are as wolcomo'as natives, and they coming from all quarters of the gxobefi—th greater number being Americans and Eng We who are hero fecl gratoful for the Liberalfy and kind hospitality extended to us. Ay the day soon come when Americs will resr and ne ture so carofully her ym\:vx.ng :\rlm}%n :xg!:‘hn,- ling b ALTER DLA iy gting poplls “Papil of Geroma .THOU SAIDST | FORGET THEE. Thon sstdst I forget thee, my feslings would ehangs When once separated, 'mid utlsers Pd rana; My love would grow cold ; that my huart, bomadisd freo, . < ‘TWould beat but for others when dlstant from thee] T anotber would pleste me, another Td woo, 3y fiest fove forsworn, forgetful of you; Tiiat my bosom wonld clanga; but I never aball bey 17l neler find anather loved fondly 3s thee ; 'l neer fiud another so prizod or 80 dear, Where'er 1 may wander or fortunc may steer § _X'llne'er find anothsr, how fair she may be, My bosom shall prizo or 8o worship 8 I met thee—T loved as T ne‘er loved before Teme e 1 jgaze on tho fairest,—thes’ro nothia) Their charms X heod ot my thioughths 1 re with s Tno sunshine of beanty may beamaai £ wily But dazzles not me,—1l bo true to thee st Zaat ffght, fn my slambers, Tmet thee, s7eet maldy In all the fwect grace of thy beanty arraed, Andwildto my heart, wiflmui c:rez:rr;::’flz} 1 clasped thee again with fond, rap! 3 We -:fi;’w through the valley, the dell, sndngaw“" Al Naturo was vocal with happ'oess and lose; 1 thougnt not of patting,—my bliss was cOmBLl With sunshine around e, aad fowers at my {65 And thou walking by me, my all, 35 thou 374 % My loved one, my own one, the Joy of my hzm Thy hand was in mine, and, with tenderast 00 e Tby voice whispered rapture,—tny eye brightly We talked of the joys thut for us were instore{ e pltured the futurs » hesvealy shores A dreamiznd of rapture, & vizioa of Joy, X0 clond could o'srabadow, no care could daktsoTe Alas for our visions ] fhey shino to betray ; 1 woke from my slambers, all fied v sazshine doj , the flow 3 Tx::vin; nought i cloads and the anadows from my gaze, but T meet thee oot gon from oy bt T B 111 clasp thee in raptcre, in oy, fo my E8Trts l < wumm\wmmmvuflim forms In hopp'ness 8. m. until 12:3) p. m.—during which time - but the bonor of being connected with this in- * g)nr‘wm‘\l competitions best expresses it)of { —-Q.....,‘..m,«» v |