The New York Herald Newspaper, March 15, 1875, Page 4

4 “THE LORRY REALM The Musical Sta Staff of ff “a4 th: ) and ife. t HISTORY OF DO-RE-MI. cdaeetaeeeeeticontemia The Development Tonic Art. of the ecmmennas CHATS ABOUT BOOKS. Sea “Uncle John.” ‘Hours in a Library,” “Caleb Krinkle,” “The Fair Puritan,” “Hope Meredith.” TuB INFLUENCE OF MUSIC ON HeALTM AND LIFE, By Dr. H. Chomet. ‘Trausiated irom the Frencn by Mrs, Laura A. Fiint. New York: @, P. Pub Lam's Sons. Never have we more painfully realized our own Want of thorough scientific knowledge of so in- teresting a theme as music, or the science of sounds, than in reading and trying, in the way vf criticism, to give to others a clear idea of this charming littie volume—cbarming, we doubt not, in the original, and so deliciously translated that the pecuilur grace of that original suimes througa the translation, This, to our mind, is a better mode of renderiug a book in a foreign language than oue More iqiomatic, Graceiul, scientitic books and essays abound in France far more than trey ever bave done in Bugiand or Buglish speaking com- munities, and we have to thank Mrs. Flint, we repeat, for the graceiul dexterity with which sne bas transiused, without losing adrop, Dr. Chomet’s uuprerending essay. It is, in other respects, by no means au easy book to review. It is too cun- tinuous and compact to admit of extracts, and to attempt to make them 1s like takin a precious sone out of 2 circlet—it dves not sume so brightiy as wito .ts companions, aud it leaves an uuplea- sant Void to look upon, Still we shall try, in order to tempt our readers to begin a modest but pro- found litle volume, which, once begun, will not be willingly laid aside. di begins with a history of music, vocal and in- strumenial, and ends with au exposition—the 1east R®atisiactory part of tne bookK—o! the author's sani- tury mode of applying it. ‘The central idea, now- is the new theery of the transmission of sounds, which we silali endeavor, in our unscien- tific way, to describe, and of which the fair trans- lator im the preiace says :— His theory of sound is not only original but very interesting. Jhough we nave always oeeu aware taut Oue individual is enuowed with @ keener seositiveness to music, or sound of apy kind, than apotuer, aud whut mvre or less resonance, We Oave certaioly not regarded persons abd tuings a3 imoued with a masicul or souorous fuid. if the extreme noveily of many of the avtnor’s VieWS sOwetucs sturves us, abd excites merri- Ment, i not ridicule, would it not ve welito reflect that many of tue greatest scientists snd inventors have met with only sueers and derision trom their contemporaries ? The line of the introductory historicai comment may be easily traced. It begins with a chapter on the tone of tue Duman voice and of music in its simplest oral expression. Of tnat voice he well eay Plato, who passed bis whole lije in study, in- B00 aud teaching, had the habit, we are told, O; Making any Wau Whom it was his intercst to KLow well, read or talk with bim in a joud voice, The quality O/ the voice, the iotonations, tue inflections 0! (ue s,euker or reader, Were to the pullosopber go many indications, if not certain, wt least pruvagie ones, of bis moral character, And, in our own time, Grétry, in ols “Essays on Music,” asserts tuat be bas never been mistaken The only aim of this | and placed below them. | Kind of in on Was to impress the lutonation oF these sounds Op the mewory of the upils. | Clans, singers, composers and instrument different suostances possess | | to Prague. The names, uf, re, mi, fa, sol, la, were used to In- dicate tae SIX DOTes OF the Seale; the seventD, 3! Was only introduced into the musical later period, importance of viils Innovation, or racer ention, 18 readily understood; it determin he lutonation of every note, it enabled mus scale at a all countries to understand caci other; Guced one and the same janguage into sical world, and thereiore it was a radical revo- tution. Srom tyis historteal sketch we have space but for one otuer extract, longer than we usually ven- ture Upon, but still one every word of wnicn will | perusal; It is the story of Mogart:- While tae musicians mentioned above were at the hetoht of their giory burope resounded with tue lame of @ young mau wno, even at tive years Of age, Wasa distinguisced pianist, and two years later a COmposer. Mozart was now in Pais for the second or third time. Introduced to Grimu, and to Noverre, maitre-de-hailet at the Royal Academy, ag well as to Mme, d’Epivay an several other distinguished persous, this young musician | begged the tavor of being allowed to execute Some Of bis compositions in their presence. For this purpose he placed in the hands of Legros, director of the classical concerts, a sym. phony written for the most eminent lustrumen- Waiists Of the age. Predictions were ireely ex- pressed On the part of Mozart's patrons; every oue seemed to be Javorabiy inclived toward hin; y even talked alreaay of permanent engag ments; but ali these good words were, 50 to spenk, elpry promises, Time passed, D0 engagement was formed, rhe hour for lulfiiment never arrived. What seemed still more strange and provoking Was tbat they did not even aeigu to have the score ol the symphony copied, bough It tad veen re- ceived by the public with something ike enrlusi- asm. Mozart, disheartened by six months’ delay and VeXation, bad vo turtuer strength tv plead his: cause, He could pot even endure rewuining lopger in Paris, His trials. and di-sappoltments, coupled with the death of his mother, with whom be bad been living, decided him to quit this capital where he had dreamed of gatuing so muca fame. He set out on September 26, 1 after having written to bis father, who Was in Ger vagy, these bitter and heart-rending words:—‘If only there were one pecson here who had ears to bear aud a heart to fecl.” He returned ro saizburg, lus native country, Where he lived in a state vorder- jug on misery. Worn out, discouraged and en- feebled, he would surely have yielded to despair Dad Dot an unforeseen circumstance revived his spirits. Charles Theodore, the Elector of Bavaria, juvited bim to come to Municu and wriie the music for a grand opera to be brought out at the italtan Opera in that city. It was a reai stroke Of jortune. Mozart leit vis home wichout velay, set to work at once, and ut the end oi several months orought out ‘idomeneo,” an opera in three acts. Tnie work, which resembied neither tue itauan, German nor French schoois tn its melodies, Was cons.dered as vertiavly 2 new degin- Ding in the art of music. It was accorded a most tluvorable reception, Alter tis success she composer received divers offers. the one made by the noble Arcnbishop ol Salzburg was eniertuined in preterence to all oluers; it admitted of the musician retaining his residence in ois Rutive town, Whicao le loved | aevotedly. He entered at once into we service of His Holiness, Tois prelate, aituough u prince as well as arcabishop, was coarse und avaricious. He thought by having a musician of genius about bis person he but added ove wore servant to his present retinue. Therefore he tried to turce him to eat in company with tie domestics of tue household. Mozart, feeling his dignity as ao artist Wounded, endured this numiliation for some tme, but realizing fully lis own worth be funully broke the yoke so imprudently assumed. Recali- ing the reception that bad been teadered him io big very childhood by the meinbers of the imperial Court of Austria be too tne road to Vienna, and 1n 1782 brought out bis ballet, “L’Enitvement du seu @t toe Court of the Emperor Joseph 11. ‘aig Work met Wit @ brililant success, and Low | prosperity, or rather a peaceiul contentment, seemed TO fall to the 1ot Of the composer. “Phe Marriage of Figaro,’ an opera in four acts, foliowed this ballet; and |i tis opera, so mucu admired at the present day, was not as Well known tien ag it is DOW, we should rememver that notn- ing 0: all that bad been heard in musical works betore nis day could give tne least idea o: this matchless Composition. Wealth o1 thought, grandeur and richness in the coucerted pieces, churming and Original melody, jJuiland varied accompanimeats, ail combined to the periection Of a work which Marks an epocn in the artist’s life, as well as forms an era in the history of dramatic music, Extausted by overwork, Mozart ade a journey There he remaiued a whlie, aad cou tinued his work, out very soon returned to Vienna, the scene o! Dis triumpu. in this city ne composed nis last opera, Masterpiece oi all masterpieces, the immortal work, ‘Don Juan.” Mozart, whom late seemed to pursue, lived con- | stantly in toe greatest anxiety and trouble, spite Of all the triumph and renown tnat he bad gamed. | im theopiniou be has formed Of individuals who | bad salu Mothiug Mure to Dim thau “Good day, wir,” or “Good woruivg, my jllend."’ According to tbe intouation witu which these words were spoken the great musiciau assumed to guess with Wuom De bad to deul, abu regulated is conduct iu accordance witu the luupression ue had thereby received. ‘Good morning’ is imost always sufticient to emabie we,” suid be, “to appreciate in general the pretension or che simplicity of a wan. In couversauon @ Man oiten hides his real character irom us, eituer Lorough politeness or duplicity, Dut he was not quile iearued how (o disguise tue iptouations of uis voice, 1nis ‘Goud aay, sir,’ And ‘Good morning, my ifeuu,’ put to mus With their exact @& power Vanity is, aud bow quickly the key chauges when its iuGuenuce ceases to be the ruling. one. One need not be Plato or Grétry, indeed, to form some eStimate 0! ab individual vy the 1Oto- Lations oO! lis Voice, aud it is, above ail, in the present aye of versatility aud prejudice, of hu- Miuty aud arrogadce, of CmbiuoU wud servility, O1 Selidepreciatiuu wud Vaulty, of impudence and Mouesty, Oi Umidiily and bvuidness, tuat a “Good day, sir,” or “Guou morumg, my iriena,” may enavle ps to fathom tue very soul of mim who utters it, the music, accordibg to an vid saying, aod “sir,” “my iriend,” “yea,” “no,” spoken in @ certain intouutions Would show wuat | it is tue quality of toue that makes | Manuer, viten express mure to us (Dan @ DULdred | words. ‘This may be one of the specimens of exiremo theorizing, at which Mrs. Flint jears the mocking world may incline to make itseif merry; but surely every man’s and every woman's experience iteste its truth. John Wilkes, ugly as he was, had a sweet, winning volce—with what result everybody kuows. li Caliban had whispered gently, and u Ferdinakd bad had a rougu voice, Prospero might have bad a diferent son-in-law; and it was our Cordelia’s ‘low, sweet voice,” “au excellent thiag in woman,” that Lear especially mourned wuen he eld a dead daugu‘er tu nis arms. Regan and Goneril must ave been loud-spoken, as they wertainly were strong-minded women, We accept br. Chomet's theory to the jull extent. as to na- UivBal music, expression of character, the Doctor imduiges in flings, not at all anjust, worthy of Tuine. Witness this passage he Italians,” said Gretry, “breathe forta their melodies With u sigh, because they eel too keenly; tne Germans sigh iof tue Volupiaous sensativis jor which they jong.” The Etglisdman sings as he lives; be is posi- lve, stubboru aud jormal. His melodies are as poetical as a coin O; 4 Lundred sous, passionate wud eXciting as fis Steam engines, cueeriul as his oWn dark, leaden sky, Clear and fuwing as the waters of the Thames, W en ue Siugs not a smile ever graces lis lips, Lot the siigutest cou- traction disturos the Jxedness of nis countenance, bot even uw Spark oO: entousiasm acc deating of Lis geart. Of Oriental music he says:— ‘The Exposition of 1867—that immense caravan. sary Wuere ull nations elbowed each otuer, that Vast capharnoum Where (he most diverse objects crowded together peil m atfurded us pies of the music ui m us. 10 var ears the Chinese music, altnougu executed by Parthian artists, seewed voting vut varoarous discord. be Arabian music, darsh and nasal, made our very Gesh creep. Who that bas ever heard Chinese instrameniai Music, for vocal they Lave nove (lancy, reader, 4v0,000,000 Without tune or a lullaoy!), will ever forget it, It is very like tne bagpipe, but none the better for that; aad it is matter of surprise to us ‘Bat among the many traces of identity vetween our Westeru nomads and the Mongolians this utter Want of musical Capacity, common to both, Was Dot been attended to. The sketeh of aucient music |e very interesting, but we have not roo to reier to it in detail. With she rise of toe Uni istian Church rose true masic, abd St. Ambrose and Si. Gregory were its cariiest patrons, it was with the idea of auiting all Cristian nations vy one lauyuage of barwuny that tue Gregorian claut Was invented, and who knows but that it may reunite them yet?’ The in- Vention of the ecule is tus deserived:— Guido, @ Benedicuine Monk, born at Arezzo, cording to (he Opio.0u of moss Bistorial mould Lave the credit of orst tindiug & way to supply tip lunges need about A. 1), 1022, This was bis taaoner o! proceeding :—Le took tue bret syilables ul the hymu Of St, Joun tue Baptist. aud assigned & Spuciai aad determined ubaracter toeack. Lals by ML Was COMposed 44 LOLLOWS — Uv? queant iaxis floris wiia yestorum Famun tuorum suive pollull Labu rectam paves. Jonann was learnev Ub) rote as @ means of assisting the memory to recal. and distinguish the sounds; We icles Were Lawed uccordimg to the syilaoles the ay liable wt w ligoged fur do, for the sake of 2) Gio Mar Honetak f i e- Hented Sous use and ‘rivei of Hauuel i srg He could have been spared pecuniary aunoyauce, it ig true, ior tne King of Prussia made the most | enticing and advantageous proposais to induce him to come to bis Vourt; but tue artis!, being tondly attached to the Emperor of Austria, ce- clued the honor, disregarcfui of tne auvantages that woulu accrue from the acceptance, and sent a positive reiusal, The Emperor of Austria, lu- jormed Oi Mozart's devotion to the Court and to amseil personally, eXpressed vis gratidcation, or rather, pervapg, bis gratitude, by making tue artist the must flattering promises. But kind words and promises from an emperor are mean- ingiess ad deceitiui; once made, they are sooa Jorgocten. ‘ihe jot o; the composer coutinued to be as uocomiortavile as ueretoiore. Forceu work, tle auxieries and cares of life, produced a serious cbange In Mozart’s health. A Troubie With tae chest Was Lrougot on, and symp- toms foreshadowed the end, Walch, U not near, Was none tue less sure, Mozart, urged op by nis genius, devoted iimself to the severest work with upparaileled energy, disregardiu! of physical suieripg. He brought out two operas in quick successioa— one, Iu two acis, cailed “Cosi lau Lutte,” and the Joliowing year another, that pleasing composition, jull of grace and sparkling ideas, and written in an entirely different style irom his otuer compost. tions, “The Magic Flute.” Tnese two operas, like those precedivg tiem, met With the greatest iavor trom the public, and added much to the celetrity OF tue urist. The strength of the wlustriou® master was exhausted vy too constant application and con- tinuous ii Dealtbh. He coulu bo longer wriie witnout becoming extremely fatigued; he sulfered aigo irom depression ana Wearivess, which oiten Unrew him inio the deepest melaucuoiy. His wrie, ali devotion, moved by the deepest tenderness and love, made iruit.ess efforis to divert im irom an occupation which Was evidently wearing lum out; she even went So tar as to take away his music paper and nis rough sketches, hoping thus to binder bis working. Vain eifor’ Mozart, feeiag the approach of lis last days, became ieverisnly eager co transier to paper the jaeus which were crowding ws brain and the emotions waicu filled bis bear; A melancholy waich be Was unable to throw off darkened his whoie lie. One day, when he was more sad thai Usual, abd avsorbed in gloomy thougits, un uokaown person Cume to 18 Louse aud asked to Speak with lim, “sir,” said the stranger, when he entered Mozart's presence, “some one bas lost @ Very Gear Ineud, aud desires to pay homage io his Memory by waving ao annual service per- furmed, for Which be begs you to nave the kind- ness to compose u requiem.” OUwlog to tue mood ip which this solemn visitor happeued to Ond him Mozart eagerly accepted tue ofler. “sow long belore you can complete the work ?? asked the Stranger. “im one mouth.” “Waoat price shall you ask?’ ‘One hundred ducats.’” “Here they are,” said the visitor, aud withdrew, Mozart Set about the work. Jt would svon Dave been compiesed had his attention not been diverted for a time @ud @ new direction given to his thouguts. ‘The kmperor Leopold If. was to be crowned King 01 Bohemia, and on this occasion there were to Le splendid feasts and ceremonies. Mozart was commissioned by the managers uf the toeatre Of Prague to write the music 0: au opera o! Metas- vasio, “La Clemeza di Tito.” ‘ois order, coming in the month of August, 1791, was accepted vy the musician. Le straightway set to work, and one mouth later, on September 15, he wrote the last motes of the music Of this almost colossal ope: This prodigious effort of ils creative genius tended to increase the disease, aud con- Sequentiy the feebleness of the composer. Lager to lulfil his e1 ements he quitted Prague and returned to Vienua to resume the composition o1 the “Kequiem,"” which nad been momentarily laid aside, As soon as she looked on her husband Mozart's wile realizea at once ber impending joss; aud then, Under pretext of baving misiaid it, she ied the score which he fad already begun. d disappoinment bad a@ Visibie Out ag his strengti was Soon seemed to yrow re. signed, fhis condition did not last jong, bowever, lor, to his Surrow aNd coniusion, tie stranger oO: the hundred ducats suddeuiy reappeared before Dim. Mozart made every excuse jor iia inaoility vo ulfi his promise. 1 kDow, aid the ‘auger, “bow impossible tt has been lor you to your word; but Sow much more time would you now need to finish your work’ “One mouth,’ re- plied Mozart. “Wel, bere are auother uundred Gucats, Adieu for a ionth.’” Tne wretched musician had not calculated bow Ol life Was left him, He grew worse day by duy, and on December 16. 1791, just tree months after his retura trom Prague, woere te haa wit- hessea the production of (he opera written io houor of the Emperor's corunation, he breathed nis not yet having reached his thirty-sixth yea We now come to Dr, Chomet’s theory o/ sound, which we understand to be an ulier and empnatic rejection of the whole vibration system by which sound is communicated irom without, and the Sasertion of its being an intengibie, imponderavie Quid, uke magnetism, which in repose ma silence, and in action makes music or discord, It | iy what @ poet, almost of our day, said loag ago, aud we wonder Mra, Flint did nor cite it:— The soul of music slumbers in the "hb ed aud Hero 18 his definition, which it is best to give in | nis own Words:— Sound, being an impondersvie uid, exists NEW YORK HERALD, MONDAY, MARCH 15, 1875.—TRIPLE SHEET. everywhere ana is inherent in all bodies. If it ts ina able that is, Ina state of silence; but i this eqai- horiuml be disturbed, ike them, its presence 18 made wanifest, Kor this deveiopment tt u ve put under peculiar conditions, and requires Msiruments as a eaDs Ol Manifestation. These are to souud what the Leyden Jar ts to electricity, What trop is to the maguet, what Grimaidi, ghens, Descartes, Maius and Fresnel say with gard to light may well be applied to -ound:— Very subtie uid, which pervades the entire verse, and is generated in every direction by ason o/ a disturbance at any one point.’ Frou this theory the author proceeds to matters of illustrative experiment, and the chapter on the intuence of this musical Mutd on animals ts full of | interest, The pillar in the Cathearal at Rueims (page 176), which vibrates when, lu the middie of the nave, a drum 1s beaten or a trumpet sounded; the music mad spider that visited Peilison in bis prison (page 180); Richard Mead’s dog, who died in agony of too much music (page 181). ‘In this curious instance,” says Dr. Cnomet, “I pave no hesitation in sayiug the dog died as much from being struck vy the sonorous fluid as if he had been affected by a discharge Irom an electric bi tery.) We then have a personal experience, With Wuich we bring to an end our extracts:— ‘Yo bring to a close this account of the effect of music on animals, Which might be prolonged to aD mudetinite length, | wil relate a fact known to my personal experience. It occurred in the sub- uros of Naples. Whi.e sitting under the shade of @ great tree 1 Was humming the air of an Italian opera. Looking out toward the country | was ad- muiriog 118 great beauty, when I peard close by ne @ rusting o/ dry leaves tha made me shudder. 1 looked toward the place whence the noise pro- ceeded, and perceived ali around me a large nu ber of those small greenish-gray lizards so co moa in Italy, Upoa my -noving these animals retreated, { thought uo more about them, but began Lo whistie the air 1 was previously hum- miibe. Tomy great astonishment | saw my jiste eners, who had a moment bejore disappeared, reussembie around me, ‘Then | watched them with special attention, ald at the same thine continued to whistle. I thought 1 detected tn them some- tuing like pleasurable sensation, made evident by the Movement of their sides, the trembling of their bodies aud the expression of their eyes, I srudied them still more careiully and endeavored to sustain the tones with sul greater accuracy. ‘The lizards being charmed, perhaps even lascin- ated, seemed to take suco keen delight in these tones that they apparentiy felt periect confidence in me, aud were ho longer irigntened at my move- ments, Which were as gente as possible, and allowed me even to bring my hand so near as to be | able to touch them. ‘The first experiment was too interesting not to be again tried, and every time! had an oppor- tunity to repeat it the same resuit ensued. if my Voice, which 18 not @ fine one, but still is true, could have sush an imtluence on these anim ils, usually so timid, how powerlul would be @ harmonious and sweet voice, such as we some- times hear. We have sald that the portion of the little vol- ume which provesses to treat of the application of these theories as @ Curative process for specific disease is the least satisfactory. still it ts luil of interest. in the diner tavle discipline he prescribes with which we are compelied to close our notice of this delightiul bookiet:— A physician of the last ceniury used to ask his patients who complatued of difficult digestion whether they took tneir meals alone or iu company Wito others, and also if they talked or were silent While eating; ne then advised them to carry on conversation 1n order to lengthen the ti meal, ana tuus jorce them to masiicate t! more thoroughly; at the same time he intended them to exercise their lungs and develop the son- crous fluid. 10 order to relieve the puimonary, as well as the vocal organs, of the blood thut fils them in consequeiice Oi constant and repeated acts ofswallowing, @ sort of gymuastic movement is needed, without which the lunctions of every organ wouid {all into disuse; but this movement 1s notentireiy suiicieut in itsell, Speech aud con- versation, by imparting activity to tuese orguns, force the blood to circulate, preserve equiliurium in toe diferent parts, and thereby prevent the feeliug Of oppression, the flushes of neat and ueightened coior in the Jace, all such frequeat effects of rich dinners. Eat @ quantity, drink a certain amount v! liquid at @ single swuillow, talk very little, and vour breathing will be snort and labored. your digestion will be rendered more dificult. On the otner hand, eat drink ¢ same amount. and carry on at the same time a lively conversation, even & discussion, with those at the same table, and you will digest your dinner with ease, Ir you usten to good music after the meal, cout syebe @ although you may be less sensitive to its than &t otber times, you will { all ti CHATS ABOUT BOOKS “HOURS IN A LIBRARY.” “Help yourself toa pipe, Professor,” said the Doctor, laying a tempting array of meerschaums and @ bag of tobacco upon bis office table. “Draw up your chair and put your feet on the fender. The ladies are ali out this evening, 80 we will try to make ourselves comfortable down here. I feel quite like ap old bachelor already. You were reading Lesue Stephen’s ‘Hours in a Library’ (Scribner, Armstroug & Co.) when I left the house | this morning, Tel! me what you think of it?” ‘The PROFESSOR (\aking a long pull at bis pipe to make sure that it is liguted)—The articles which form the volume appeared in the Cornhill Maga- zine, Fraser’s and the Fortnighily Review wien first pabiisked, and 1 understama that they were pretty weil thought oi in Ragland. They are well written, and the autnor has evidently labored over his work, and altuough I read the pook with interest it made Me as angry as the Nation often | does. Stephen is an arranut faulifiader. He dia- cusses De Foe, Richardson, Pope, Scott, Haw- thorne, Balzac and De Quincey, aod to neither one does he give real wholesome praise. He does not agree with Lamb that De Foe’s other works were a8 good as “Ropinson Crusoe,” but thinks that in that famous book he found bis level, which was nota very nigh one, and that his imagination, though powertul, was very lumited, The DoctoR—Tuat sounds sensivle enough. I admired “Robinson Crusoe” very much as @ child, but looking at it now, irom a literary points of view, it seems no more than a diary of common iacts, The sec.nd part is exceeding tire- What has our critic to say of Richard- some. son? The PROFESSOR—Little good. He tninks that his greatest triumph was in painting women, that his men are not life-like and that his moral prosiogs savor oj the endless gossip over @ dish of choco- late, He {8 more severe upon Sir Walter Scott than any of the others. The Doctror—Waat flaws does he pick in the “Wizard of the Nortn?” ‘The PRoFgssoR—\Weil, in the first place, he calls him dull, accuses him of jooking upon literature as @ trade and predicts for nim only a tew more years of popularity. The whole of those historical novels, says he, which Once Ciarmed ali men, a rapidly converting themselves into mere aéoris of plaster of Paris. He bas a thorough contempt for the historical novel, Such novels, he says, are eituer dictionaries of antiquities, dissolved in @ thin solution of romance, or simply take their plot and costume from history. In tne latter case it wenerally results in @ kind of dance in letters and a compositaire breakdown under self-imposed obligations. The DoctoR—i cannot agree with the whole of | that, aitaougo I see a glimmer of truth through it all, The PRoFgssoR—Speaking of authors, he says, “Nobody can kill an hour in an express train who bas been dead twenty-five years.” ‘The Doctox (olowing a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling) Ridiculous Tue PROFESSOR—He Saye Of Scott's poetry, “It ls NOt the poetry of deep meditation or of rapt en- thusiaem ;’ he, Lowever, gives it credit for having the charm Of 49 unaffected and spontancous love ofnature. If Scott and Byron couid pave been combined Mr, Stephen thinks we wight have seen guother Suakespeare, Tue DocroR—i don’t believe that Stephen would have been #atisied with @ nineteentn century | Shakespeare. tate of equilibrium, then, like otner ponder- lds, itis, as ic were, lu @ latent condition— | ens to | There isa monstrous amount of truth | oi the | ir food | | cans, arises from the fact that a nature like nis | would have been strangled or satiated by the culture of Engiand. He then gives as a reason for Hawthorne’s antagonism to Englishmen that he was airaid of joviug them too well, Listen to | this, O Emerson, Longfellow ana Lowell! Was | It not acting to weep over, that a man so keenly | alive to every picturesque influence, so anxious to | Invest his work with the enchanted haze of ro- | mantic association, shu be confined till middie | age among the bleak grauiterocks and the half- | baked civilization of New England ? The DocroR—Shades of the Pilgrims defend us! The PROFEsSOR—I am not done yet, Doctor. | Speaking of “The Marble Faun,” or ‘'lransforma- | ton,” ag it is called in England, he says that Donattello in New York “would certainly have been tn danger of Barnum’s Museum, besides Washington’s nurse aud the Woolly Horse.” Let bim but show the tip of one of his furry ears and Darwin or Barnum would have claimea him. The Docron—Well, that is @ poor attempt at wit. The Proresson—Then he says that there are Passages in the ‘warbie Faun” “liko masses of an uodigested guide book.” The DocroR—1 would like to see an Englishman write such a guide book. ‘The PRoFgssoR—Mr, Stephep does give Haw. thorne credit lor some genius, but he gives it grodgingly, I think there never was anything more {alse than some of his assertions about this gifted author, . The Docror—Stuff and nonsense, every word of it (rising from bis chair and knocking the ashes out of bis pip>). I have heard enough. The PROFESSOR (taking the book of the table)—Jnst let me read you the peroration; you Will enjoy it, BM Tbe DocroR—No; not another line. I quite liked thetellow at first; but this about Hawthorne bas put me ina rare bad humor. Come, Proies- | sor, let us go up stairs; it 13 almost time for the ladies to de home. “UNCLE JOHN.” Fsiicia—One would scarcely think that “Kater- felto” and “Uncle John” (D, Appleton & Co.) were by the same author. One ts so wildly romantic and the other so homelike and natural. Miss RacHEL—Which do you like the best? FELICIA—They are not to be compared, I like both in their way, exceedingly. 1 just dote on | such stories as ‘Cucie John,’ where the every- house are descrived. And Uucle Jonn himseif, What a dear old fellow he was. Who but sucha kind, amiavie man would bave had a cross, nag- ging wile like his. With an unhappy disposition herself sue tried to make every one around her miserable. But still sie could not prevent her guests from having a pleasant time. Miss RacHai—Such agreeable men and women as her guests would evjoy tnemseives anyw, They were the periection of country house ors. Of the two heroines I rather prefor Miss Blair, Mrs. Delancy, Mrs. Lexley or whatever name you choose to call her. Sne was the kind of | wowpan who Jascinates me, although I think that gentlemen are more inciined to admire her style than are ladies, Feiicta—Poor Laura, she saw life in its surangest | aapecta, The wile of a gambler and the wile of a | clergyman, in America, in England, her's was a | hard lot, but she found rest at last. I think that | | | scene she describes where the American gambler | catches her busbana at cheating is one of the | Worst things I ever read; where the American | teus Delancy that he hasacarJ concealed under | his band. Delancy denies it, and the otuer draws | @ bowie knife and pins his nand with the card | under it fast to the table. From that hour the two | men are partners, | Miss RaCHsL—What,a horrible nightmare when | that miseravie Delancy turoed up a.ter Laura | was married to Lexley. | new Iife. Fevicta—I think she took the wrong course en- tirely. Lshould never have left Lexley as she dia, knowing that he could think notning but bad of her for her flight. Miss RacHeEL—But she argued that it would nave made him more unbappy to have found oat that she was another man’s wife, And then she Knew that he loved her so that he could never part from her, and bis whole life would have been wrecked, FeLiora—Of course she did what she thought was rigut. But I should nave eitner toid him by word of mouth or left a letter when I went away. It wasadelicate matter at best. Why do you suppose she did not get @ divorce? She nad | ground enough for a dozen. Miss RacuzL—Londgon 1s not Chicago, and then that would have spoiled Mr. White Melvilie’s story. You see that everytning went well as it | was. | Fevtcta—Yes, ail went well enough in the ena; | Dut it was a bitter waiting for thas end, She ‘was so happy in her not to the reader. Do you motice what little plot there is? Yet the interest is well sustained, description of home life, of hunting, eating and flirting of the Uncie John’s guests is perfectly charming. FRLIcIa—Annie Dennison had a hard time be- tween the two lovers, but she got the one she ‘wanted after all, The first littie uncertainty was the spice that gave ner quiet life its favor, She isa first rate character. Very girlish and very spunky. Her’s wasa@ bed of roses compared to poor Laura's, HOPE. MEREDITH, | Miss RacHEL, who ts sitting at tne plano and | occasionally striking a chord—It is easy enough | to see the drilt of Eliza Tabor’s argument in Ler | last novel, “Hope Meredith” (Harper & Brothers.) | She wishes her readers to understand that a Middle class girl is jast as much of a lady, if she chooses to be, as oue who is born in the purple, | Feuicta, laying down ber work and seating her- | self on the sofa near her cousin—But she weaves | the thread of her argument so carefully and so | gently that one is caugnt in its mesbes without knowing tt. No one could read the book without admiring Hope Meredith vastiy more than Madoiin Lauderdale. Miss RacuEL—But Madoiin had her good points, FELICIA—Of course she had. [t would have been | very poor policy to have painted her all black. | Miss RacngeEL—if 1 had known the two giris I suppose that Hope would have attracted me the most, although in the story I feel irresistibly drawn toward Modolin. Knowing her secret, I could not but pity her. It was an awful punish- ment for what might bave been a very tunocent escapade, She met Nilken in good society. He | was more intelligent and vastly more jascinating | than the other men by whom she was surrounded, How was she to know that he was an adventurer godacriminai? To be sure her auut did not like | Bim and warned her of, but the growlings of a } garrulous old maid like Miss Griselaa ouly added fuel to the Mame. Perhaps if the old lady had heid | her tongue there would have been no harm done. FRLicia—I cao readily imagine the rash of terri- | bleemotions that must have poured like a torrent | over Madolib when she diseovered that Nilken and | Jetsam were the sume, Her pride insulted, her | love gone, for, when she found that her husband Was notiiag more or than @ convict and had married her ander jaise preteuces, she could no longer love him. And then to think thas she had to ing through the world as thougn she was not the | Most unhappy woman in 1. The agony of the | Spartan boy with the iox gnawing out bis vitals ‘was nothing compared to her: Miss RacugL—Iif she could only have shared her . Ol course | secret that might have been some re day dolags of the guests in an English country | | Miss RacukL—To the parties themselves, but | The | p Up @ppearances and go suilling and dirt. | Pricta—How mucli better it was to have Hope beur wich her whims than to, nave become indig- | Nant, a8 she well might. She knew that Matolin | Was not living ber real live, and sae pitied and joved her. Hope haa plenty of spirit withal, ae aunt Griselda had reason to know. Miss RacueL—I could not help feeling a lite sorry for Niiken, He did not go deliberately to Work to win Madolin’s affections, She really sought him hersel!, as be afterward told her. And then alter he came back irom Australia he might have worried her a great deal more nad be not had a little good in him. He kept ner secret weil, too, \ FELIcIA—The Most galling thing to Madolin was | to find that this man, to whom she had once given her proud heart aud hand, was only a common, strolling photographer after all—one who could enjoy firting with Tossie, her waiting maid. I think that Madolin had enough to make her crazy, and she must have been at it temporarily in- sane when she took that money. It would have been impossible for a woman with her bringing up to have done so otherwise. Miss RACHEL—''o look on the brighter side of the story, What a splendid fellow Mac was, Fevicta—- Did you ever know a Mac who was not a splendid fellow? I never did, Miss RACHEL—Tb1is book does not read much like St, Olaves" or ‘Jeanie’s Quiet Life.” Noone would ever accuse it of being by the same author, although the o\her two are powertul stories there is more dramatic force in this, Madolin’s death is perhaps a trifle overwrought, yet such things are far irom uncommon, FeLicia—I don’t see why the book sbould be called ‘Hove Meredith.’ The story is more about Madolin Lauderdale. She is decidedly the central figure. “CALEB KRINKLE."? Miss Racuen—'‘‘Caled Krinkle” (Lee & Suepnard) 1g a very good chronicle of ikfe tn the average New England village, and abounds in govud conscien- tious work, Feticia—Then I shall not read It, for I hate “conscientious work,” or at least the sort that is known by that term, Miss RactkL—Then I warn you off of this book, for if it 13 not that it 18 nothing. Mr. Coffin— “Carleton” 13 his nom de plume—gives the day by day history of his heroes and heroines, from the time they were babies until their marrtage or death. He describes the conventional village with its conventional inhabitants; the storekeeper, black- | smith, farmers, loafers, & «&c. He has avery | Unpleasant way of yiving his people alliterative | Rames, such as Moses Meek, Bell Blossom, Jona- tnan Jolly and the like. FeLicta—Alliteration is bad enough in poetry, anu wo'se in prose. Miss RacHEL—I ratber like 1¢ 1n poetry, when it is not carried too far. Well, Caleb is a iy’ young man; he studies hara js quite @ beau. Just as he is about to enter college his father’s health falls | and he refuses to leave him. At lawt his father | dies and is supposed to owe the rascally father of | Moses Meek some $15,000, He really does not, and Meek knows it, bus there was no formal | receipt of the transaction, so he seizes upon the | land of the orphan and turns him a beggar upon the street. Caleb has pluck and talent, and he | goes to Boston to study law. While walking | through the streets he sees a young lady in danger | of being crushed by a falling building; he jomps | to ber rescue, sayes her, and is himsel! badly hurt. | The young lady turns out to be a Boston beile, whom be knew in years gone by. She is grateful and has him carried to ber house, where he is | nursed through a tedious sickness, Bertha Way- land, the young lady, of course falls in love with Caleb, aud he would probably return the attention nad he not already engaged himself to Linda Pair, the blacksmith’s daugater, FxLIcla—How unfortunate; but that engage- ment might have easily been broken, or was the chatm that bound them one of her father’s | forging? Miss RacHEL—Culeb was a good young man, and | at last he married Linda and recovered the prop- erty out of which he had been cheated, Bertha ‘was best man at the weddiag and ended her days an old maid. FsLicia—Not a0 uncommon trick of Boston ladies. Miss RacHEL—I hear that the book nas had an English edition, for what reason I do not know, for it is @ very simple, unpretending story. Fgxicta—I can see the haughty dowagers toss | society, is it?” g0ns and daughters of the butcher, baker and i candlestickmaker are college graduates ana intelligent men and women they must be in “society.” The same orders in England would never attempt to better their mental condition. Aterrible state of affairs in tnis country, they | think, “THE FAIR PURITAN.’ Miss RacugEL—I call “Tne Fair Paritan” (J. B. | Lippincott & Co.) a first rate historical novel. The MorasR—And so do L The period was a fruitful one for the novelist—in the latter part of the seventeenth century, when @ plain record of lacis would be exciting enough. Feicia—It seems almost impossible to believe tbat only so short a time ago human beings were | burned to deatn for witchcrait. I wonder woat we of the nineteenth century are doing that | posterity will look back upon with upiiited hands? | Mise RacuEL—A thousand and one things. Per- baps not actual crueities, but other barbarities, if | all that the reformers say is truco, | FeLicra—I wonder if Merci(ul Woalley was a fair | sample of a Puritan—a man who would commit the grossest outrages in the name of God. The | poor Indian girl, Tituba, was about right when she | said to the misnamed Merciful, “Ibe white man ts | atyrantto his slave, @ dog to bisenemy! whe | white man’s God ts @ devil 1 white men do his | bidding!” | Miss RacuEL—Merciful Whalley was a miscra- bie, deluded bigot, Such a man nowadays would | be locked up ina lunatic asylum. He was not fit to be at large. FeLicla—Give me the Cavaliers! The very | thougnt of a Puritan gives me the horrors, The | Puritans’ God is not the oneI worship. I could | Mot believe in a religion that made me cruel, seif- | isn, narrow minded and so hopeless as their's | made them. The MorueR—Do not be #o wholesale in your re- marks, my canghter. All Puritans were not like | the wretched Whalley, no more than are all Chris- tians like that Miss Darkside your aunt was telling us about. The MorHen—Your aunt was! boarding in the game house with this lady, who, at bottom, wasa | real good soul, though she always carried a long face and never read any lighter literature than | the “Saints’ Rest.” One Sunday morning the | boarders were chatting and laughing at the br | fast table, when something quite funny wi aid, | ana this very pious lady's face broke out into a | | decided expression of merriment, A young gen- tleman at the table, more bold than the rest, | caught the look and said, ‘Ja it possible that 1 | saw youlangh, Miss Darkside?’ ‘No, indeed, I | did not laugh,” was the reply, “butit 1s seidom | that Leven allow myselt to smile on the Saboath.”’ | 's idea of re- | PeLicta—And that 1s some peop | gion! FReD (who had been waiting patiently for a chance to get in a word)—Rath Whalley was a | splendid girl I would have married ber in @ mo- ment. | The MorHER—Whether she would or no, I sup- | pose? | Frep—vh, of coarse sve would, with @ side- ‘The PROFESSOR (puMing vigorously at bis almost | her entire character was changed vy this tragic | long glance in the mirror. fireless pipe)—And now we come to that part of the book which roused wy riguteous indignation, the critioism of Nathaniel Gawtoorne. From be- bind @ {thin Mask of praise it is easy to seo the green-oyed monster, he pretends to be giving the gre@: fornancer howest ortticism, but it is Gamoing With faint praise, ‘The DOCTOR (vestily)—1 sa0uld ike to know what Jault any one can Cng with Hawtoorne, {fe PROFESSOK—NO One but Mr. Leslie Stephen could find any, Out Le completely riddies our Javorite romancer with the ouilets of criticiam, In the firs: piace, he speaks of Hawthorne's good fortune in beimg born iu the “most prossic oi all countries,” Which youd fortune ue explains, after | @ lot of umcaliied for abuse of Ameriea and Amer+ circumstance. Always proud, sbe was gencrous and warm hearted, but when this agouy came she turned to ston Feuicta—i can ly understand thar she should turn to stone, but not thatshe suould have ever descended to the same level with Nilken, for sae reaily was no better when temptation came. Worse in fact for sue plotted against her best friends and would have ruined tuem if she could have cone 40, Ma @ junatic at that time and not accountable for what sue did, No sane person would have had such unnatural teciings toward her friends, She really ioved Hope Meredith, but jus how she | weaved ber, HACHE\—I look upon her as having become | | Miss Racitet—Did you notice, Felicia, that the | author of vnls book takes the opposite ground | trom Eliza Tabor in “Hope Mereditn t” Mr, He bert, “Frank Forrester,’ I should say, says very decidedly that there is the greatest difference be- ‘ween the middle classes and the aristocracy, | There 18, be declares, o cercain something that | will show the bad biood sooner or later in men as | well aa hora He tales like one to the manoer | born. | Prep—This 1s @ posthumous novel, 1 suppose you know. Mr. Hervert died some few years ago. Ho hada lovely place near Newark, which was destroyed by dre not long since. I was vut there once With @ party of geutiomen and we bad 4 jolly | | their heads as they say, ‘So this 1s American | ‘They will think that because the | Feicia—I have forgotten what was the story? | LITERARY CHAT. The prose works of Wordsworth, now for the first t collected, ave in press in London, They include his “Guide Through the Lake District,” his ‘Apology for the French Revolution,” hitherta unpubiisbed, bis letters, &c. The Revue des Deux Mondes for January 16 hat an article on that rather obscure subject, “Tne Finances of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.” The Athenwum says that Harper & Brothert have sent Dr. Livingstome’s family £1,000 on ao count of the American edition of his “Lasi Journals,” Wilhelm von Kaulbach’s literary remains are ta be printed. They bave great historical as well as artistic value. That immortal book “Don Quixote,” which orst appeared in 1606, bas passed throug 1,175 edt- tions. Of these 417 were Spanish, 801 English, 169 French and 70 German. A pew journal of travel or of commercial geog- raphy is published weekly in Paris under the title of “L’Explorateur.’”’ We are to have a history of Aberdeenshire, Scot lana, from the pen of Alexander Smita, C. EB, ‘The art of Alpine climbing has now been carried, 80 far as tO mainjain three periodicals—the Eng lish “Alpine Journal,” the “Yahrbuch,” of the Swiss Alpine Club, and the monthly Journal, “L’alpmista,”” published by the Italian Alpine Club, Mr. Isaac Pitman, who 1g still urging indefati- gaoly his returm in spelling, reports the demand for phonetic literature and reading books to be on the increase in Engiand, The Early English Text Society will finisn tht publication of the “History of the Holy Grail” within the coming year. The 400th birthday of Michael Angelo will be | celebrated in Florence the present year. Tue great “History of Voltaire and of French Society in the Eighteenth Century,” by M. Dei noiresterres, has reached the sixth volume, It it largely occupied with Voltaire’s carious and Intes esting relations to Jean Jacques Rousseau, Mr. Coarles J. Hemans, « son of Felicia Hemana the poet, hus pudlished one of the Vest books on classic art and architecture, under the title of “Historic and Monumental Rome,” That indefatigable traveller and author, Captain W. F. Burvon, uas in the press bis “Ultima Thule; or, a Summer iu Iceland,’ ‘The celebrated anatomical plates of Vesalius,” published at Venice in 1538, have just been repro- ducad, having become excessively rare. Mr. H, R. Haweis is preparing what he calls @ “Golden Key’ to Chaucer, lor the use of young people, intended to familiarize children witn tne best parts ol this great poet. The “Canterbury Tales! will be illustrated in chromo lithograph, The King of Burman ts going to start a news paper, which will be printed botn in burmese and in Englisn, The world bas long known that the poet Burns held the office of exciseman; but 1t was reserved to an inquisitive clerk of the Internal Revenue at Edinburgh to find out that the poet’s dutios were chiefly 10 the ‘Tobacco Division.” The Scribners will print a cheaper edition ol Cratk’s well executed work on “Toe Englism Language,” in two volumes, duodecimo, The Appletons will issue a cheap series of sciem tifle works, to embrace the science of music by Sydney Taylor, Quatrefages’ “Natural History o Man,” Dr. Edward Smith’s “Health,” &c, Austin’s masterly lectures on jurisprudence have been condensed into one portable volume by Mr. Robert Campbell. The Atheneum pronounces the papers in “Lotog Leaves” to be nearly ell flimsy, though it admita that @ few of them are jaunty and “smart.” We are to have @ new book on “The Onildnood of Religion,” {rom the pen of Mr. Olodd, who wrote “The Ubudhood of the World.”” | Anew novel irom the pen of George Sand will soon appear in the columns of the Revue des Deus Mondes under the title of “Fiamarande.”” A new book on the Fiji Islands, by Mr. 0, Wooa, tilustrated by photographs of native Polye nesian races, will soon appear, The art treasures of Spain have been writ: | about by H. Willis Baxley, M. D., and his boox is Dosh. Avery entertaining volume Is the Rev. David Hogg’s “Life o: Allan Cunningham,” just printed | at Dumiries, Scotland. As sculptor and as author, Cunningham achieved a fine reputation, though be wrote of himseif:— lama poor hard working creature, tolling ta | marble and bronze all day, and night dippin my pen in biographical ink to earn an hones! penby jor the bairns’ oreaa, M. Simonin bas contributed an interesting paper on the “Street Colidren of New York,” to the Revue des Deux Mondes for January. There sre only 137 daily newspapers publishe in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ire | land. “The Rainbow Creed” is the queer title of a | radical theological novel, to be issued this month by W. P, Gill & Co,, Boston, drawing portraits of Mr. Beecher, Mr. Murray and other preacue: Mr. J. 4. Symonds will publish “The Renaissance in Italy,’’ being an account of Italian politics, 8 ciety, art and literature in the fourteenth and Mf+ teenth centuries. “Tne Romantio History of Buddha,” translated from the Sansctit into Chinese and from Chinese into English, has appeared in London. Proiessor W. D. Whitney has given five lectured “On the Growth of Language,” at the Peabody in stitute of Baltimore. Toere 18 to be a great German biograpbical dio- tionary, undertaken by L, Von Ranke and J. Von Dellinger, aided by 400 contributors. It wili cover, in twenty volumes, all noted characters of Ger- many aud the Netnerlands. The latest undertaking of Gustave Doré was & splendid new edition of the Portuguese poet Camoens, to be printea at Oporto, with bis illus trations, | The scene of Christian Reid’s new story, ‘Hearts, and Hanis,’ published by Appleton, lies chiefly at thatfamous Virginia summer resort, the White Sulphur Springs, | Weare to have a completely new translation of all the plays of Moliére, from the pen of Hentl Van Laun, The book will be publisied in Edia- | burgh, and illustrated with etchings. There has been no English edition of Moilére since 1743, over century and a quarter, An autograph receipt of Rabelais, for medical services, Was sold at auction lately for $210, The Atheneum says that one of the weakest points of 1ormer editions of the “Encyclopmdia Britannica” was ite theology, but the new edition shows @ manifest improvement, A comparison of | the articles on “Adam,” in the e1ghch and ninth | editions will show how signal has been the change. It is not trae that Mr, Gladstone is writing a refutation of Stra ‘Life of Jesus.” Weare to have an elaborate life of Lord Ma. cauley from the pen of his reiative, G. O, Trevel. | yan, M. P. One of the latest definitions of man makes him out to bea gambling animal, and, judging from the recent swarm of books on card playing, the jome ioundation. The latest is a littie by “Cav. Of loo, vingt endish,” 11 et-un and poker are set forth. The Alpine Journal prints Mr, Gardiner’s ac count of bis ascent of Bibruz, in the Caucasus, one of those diMicult sammits which Englishmen so | pant to climb. : | The book trade te more angry with J. B. Lippin« | cott & Co. than are the book buyers, | L)Bxplorateur is the nome of a new weekly pa | Hoation just started in Paris, to promote the study | of commercial geography. | What 1s Rebeces Harding Davia doing that does not give ue apy more novels? We cannot | spare her poweriul pen for mauy y to come; she is @ writer in & thousand, Mr, John G, Saxe met with a narrow escape io the recent accident on the Pau Haadis route. Mr, &, 8. Nadai’s book on Sociai Life in Bagiand will be published in that couvtry by Macmillan & Co. and in thie by Scribner, Armstrong & Co, Mr. Nadal was at one time ao attaché at the court of St, James and is at present the literary editor of the Avening Post, “Nooks and Corners of the New Eugiand Coast,” by Samuel Adams Drake, will be published by Harper & Bros. with numerous ilustrauony