we can estimate how strong must be the impulse that drives to this end. Professor Lombroso has been five years collecting these revelations, which are free by their very origin from the simulation so frequent in official interviews. "I have studied those people for twenty years,” he says, “and yet I was not prepared for the horrors found in their writings." Terrible indeed, and at the same time most instructive, is the absence of anything like repentance, the moral inability to grasp the nature of crime, shown in the abuse of judges who have committed these malefactors unjustly (they confess the crime. but fail to see why it should be punished), in reiteration of their intention of resuming their old life when they get out, in frank expressions of delight at the ease of prison life. "Once it was customary," runs one inscription, "to declaim against the Spanish Inquisition, but who would have thought that the year 1886 would have seen worse things done? Poor justice, in what a sad condition you find yourself!" And again: "Our judges, besides telling lies, are of a hypocrisy that passes all limit." "Law is equal for all-who have money." Some inscriptions contain truths which might well be pondered. The following, for instance, is a scathing satire: “Oh, penal code, why do you punish cheating with your severe rigors, while the noble Italian Government, with its immoral game of Lotto, is teacher and guide in the art of swindling?" Not without a substance of justice, too, are the frequent complaints of the slowness of legal suits, mingled, however, with the usual execrations of those who punish crime. “When the bronze horse, which stands on the Piazza San Carlo, takes to galloping," writes one robber, “my case will come up for trial." And another: "Infamous police, is it not time to let me out of this accursed gaol? It seems to me I have been here long enough for taking three hundred francs, between three of us. You others steal much more from us poor wretches who are under your sway; in six months alone you rob more than we can in six years, assassins that ye are. Yet none of you are in prison. But a day will come when you will render account to God of your infamous thievings, your unjust actions in order to get on in the world, and all your baseness. Wretches that you are. I am Ciapet of S. Salvari." "These judges have no mercy. They will not let me do well on any account. I have already so many annoyances, am so full of debts that I don't know how to pay, and they keep me here in prison doing nothing. Now that the fine weather is come, that I could go somewhere to earn money to pay my debts, these vile beings make me stay at Turin in prison. Well, then, do you at least pay my debts. I cry for vengeance for myself and my creditors. Vengeance! Fool that I am to cry for vengeance in this world! It's like scolding an ass. Poor Macmato! “I have been a thief, but the judges who condemned me are more culpable than I, because they have condemned me to a punishment which I have never merited, and they rob daily with their persecution and malice. This ought to be avenged." Reform is surely an unknown factor to those who write as follows: As soon as I leave prison, I will always steal, even at the risk of being always in prison. Oh thief! ces canailles de juges have ruined your trade. Courage all the same and forward. The cute man and all his friends must rob no longer, but assasinate. If God has given us instincts to rob, which we obey, there are certain people who have the instinct of imprisoning us. This world then is a theatre in which to enjoy ourselves for ever." Noteworthy among so many sad features is the curious vanity regarding their villainy frequently displayed by these men, their blatant cynicism, their absolute moral perversion. Sorrow for the crime is transformed into a truly Spartan shame at being found out. The writings of the prisoners, their epi grams, prove them to be often men of parts and some education, but their moral nature is differently constructed from that of ordinary men. They have no notion of right and wrong. You can no more change such men into social beings than you can transmute one species into another. Against these men, society as an organized body, must follow the first of all laws, that of self-defense. M THE HINDU THEORY OF MARRIAGE. National Review, London, December. UCH has been said and written about the Indian home life, and the certainty assumed by those Europeans who speak on the subject is wonderful, considering that it is generally acknowledged, that to a European, the penetralia of an Indian is unapproachable. I have often heard English ladies lamenting about the ill-usage to which our women are subjected, and English men are even more vehement in their protests against the execrable tyranny from which our women are supposed to suffer. Descriptions of Oriental marriage life often take the place of ghost stories around the Christmas fire. Such opinions advanced by globe-trotters and by not a few AngloIndians have produced no slight impression on the native mind itself. In our respect for Western sentiment, we have half-consciously hoodwinked our own judgment, and let ourselves gravitate into a belief that our system is an unmitigated abomination. I purpose to expose the fallacy of that assumption. I will draw a comparison between the Indian home-life, as seen and led by the present writer in his native country, and the English home-life of which only the superficial aspect is portrayed in English novels. Nothing is more fruitful of fallacy than confusion between the denotation and the connotation of a term. We all know, for example, what we mean by matrimony in its English significance; but few of us will sanction the solecism which would be involved in making the same word do service for a conjunction between a man and a woman as preördained by God-a conjunction in fact, which has been, and is to remain eternally immutable through all the shifting cycles of the universe. A soul may quit its human temple, and be bid to live in the bosom of a cow, or to radiate the wings of a butterfly; but, according to Hindu notions, the union of two souls in the sacred knot of Hymen is eternal. The souls becomes two aspects of the same substance, and cannot be modified. This is the Indian conception of matrimony, and is this not infinitely loftier than the utilitarian union of Protestant Europeans which may at any moment result in an appeal to the Divorce Court? Every Indian husband is faithful to the ideal which I have described; every Indian wife lives in its spirit. Indeed this thought seems to have become incorporated with her very nature. The Hindu view of marriage has certain necessary results. It renders the marriage of widows unconditionally impossible. The Hindu theory makes husband and wife more dependent upon and devoted to each other. It is owing to that theory, and not to ignorance or the dictates of irrational custom that the wife is faithful, respectful, and often obsequiously obedient to her husband. Still while submissiveness is lauded in the Puranas as a virtue, the doctrine that the wife is the best part of humanity, and that her presence and coöperation are essential for the rightful performance of all religious ceremonies is clearly emphasized. Without a wife a man is unblessed; with her his salvation is certain. To a Hindu, therefore, it can never be too often repeated, a wife is a necessary part of his religious appurtenances. The wife being both a religious and a social necessity, it is hardly conceivable that her husband should treat her with anything but affection and regard. True, there are ill-natured As husbands, who treat their wives brutally; but is not the same thing frequent in your civilized and chivalrous England? a rule, Indian husbands are as kind and regardful of their wives, as their nature and position in social economy demands. Indian love, if not so effervescent at first as among Europeans, is, on the whole, deeper and more lasting. The reason lies in the very institution which has recently been made a subject of bitter recrimination. Early marriages, if they have no greater virtue, tend to bring the two persons together at that age when the possibilities of adaptation in both are great. Besides increasing the bonds of affection by creating common associations, lopping off the excrescences of each other's nature, and adapting each person, while yet plastic, because young, to the wants or caprice of the other, early marriages maintain social purity. That is too often ignored, despite the hideous facts recorded in English courts, and despite the traffic in immorality to be witnessed in crowded European cities at dusk. Theoretically there is nothing in the domestic relationship of Indians which is incompatible with continuous domestic happiness. Neither is there in fact. The deep affection between the husband and wife, and, indeed, between all members of the household, is the result of early and unbroken association, and of the religious sanctity with which Hindu nuptials are clothed. Apart from a few revolutionaries, Hindu wives and daughters are perfectly contented and happy with their lot, and would feel that they had fallen on a woful day, if their happiness were disturbed by outlandish innovations. There is much to reform in India; but its home-life should not be encroached upon by hasty legislators. Our homes are happy, and they cannot be made happier by any Western propagandism. EDUCATION, LITERATURE, ART. PROBLEM OF EDUCATION IN THE SOUTHERN STATES. J. C. HARTZELl, CorresponDING SECRETARY OF THE FREEDMEN'S AID SOCIETY. Methodist Review, New York, January-February. THE HE men who founded the New England colonies believed in schools for all the people. Not only were colleges and universities established, but the true democratic idea, that governments are for the individual citizen rather than for any favored class, found expression in systems of free public schools for the children of all-rich and poor alike. The other northern colonies partook of the same spirit; and the idea finally found legal enactment in all the States and Territories throughout the North that it is the duty of the State to provide at least primary and secondary educational facilities for all its youth at public expense. It was different in the South. Under the leadership of Virginia, the South condemned free schools for the masses. Class ideas prevailed. Government was for the favored few, rather than for individuals irrespective of social standing. Some universities and a fair proportion of colleges were founded, and in later years some of the Southern States made attempts at the establishment of public school systems for the whites: but the success was slight. The stigma of pauperism rested on them, and in some cases, as in Georgia, pupils had to acknowledge themselves paupers before they could attend. As to the Negroes, for many years before the war it was a penitentiary offense to educate them. The theory was that to educate a negro was to spoil him for a slave, and make it possible for him to be influenced by outside literature, .and thus endanger the institution of slavery. The appalling illiteracy of the sixteen Southern States is, therefore, the result of the aristocratic or class idea that education among whites was only for the few that could pay for it, and the enforced ignorance of the negro population in the interest of slavery. The census shows that illiteracy in the South increased between 1870 and 1880. In 1880 there were, in the United States, 6,240,000 persons ten years of age and over who could not write. One third of the population was in the South, but it had three-quarters of all the illiterates—4.700,This means that out of five people, only three could write; and in several of the States fully fifty per cent. of the people of ten years of age and over could not write their names. Among the white people the illiteracy was twenty per cent. That means that every fifth white person in the South as a whole could not write. Georgia had 110,000 people of this class who could not write, Among the negroes seventy-five per cent. could not write. The following tabulated figures show the problem as applied to voters: Number of males in the late slave-holding States twenty-one years of age and over who could not read and write in 1870 and in 1880: Number of white, 1870.... Number of colored, 1870 Number of white, 1880... Number of colored, 1880 Total in 1870... Total in 1880... Total number of males of voting age in the South in 1880.... 317,371 850,032 410,550 944,442 1,167,303 -I,354,974 -4,154,125 Of these illiterates, 69.7 32.3 per cent. of the voters are illiterate. per cent. are colored, and 30.3 per cent. are white. Here we have the startling fact that more than two-thirds of the ignorant voters of the whole nation are found in the midst of one-third of our population. In one State the illiterate voters constituted a majority of the voting population of that commonwealth. The difficulties which confronted the South in her educational problem twenty-six years ago were tremendous. The demoralization following the war was universal and awful. The South lay prostrate. Her old educational centres had either been destroyed or greatly crippled. Educational funds had disappeared. The poverty that prevailed can never be appreciated by the outside world. When it was suggested that public schools must be established for the freedmen, the opposition was intense and at times violent. The great mass of the whites did not believe that the negro could be educated, or that if he could he ought to be. But, even if he could and ought to be, the people who freed him should educate him The chief forces that have operated to solve the problem are, first, the National Government; second, Northern patriotic philanthropy; third, Southern church and private institutions; and fourth, public free schools. The first practical movement by the General Government was the organization of the Freedmen's Bureau, which expended during the few years of its existence $5,000,000, chiefly in the inauguration of educational work among the negroes. The only direct Government aid to the several States now is from the Agricultural College Fund, which was begun some years ago, and recently increased $15,000 to each State annually. In the South this fund is divided between the two races, and in certain cases has led to the establishment of agricultural and mechanical institutions, some of which are making excellent progress. Northern patriotic philanthropy has, since the war, expended fully $30,000,000 in the Southern States, and probably fourfifths of this sum has gone into educational work. The results have been marvelous in the questions settled, concerning the willingness and capacity of the negro for education, in the development of sentiment favorable to popular education, and in the influence for good exerted upon the white people of the South. The churches of the North, beginning in an undenominational effort, soon entered upon great denominational move ments. A fair estimate of the work now carried on in the South through Northern philanthropy by church organizations would probably be 250 institutions of higher grades, 1,500 teachers, and 35,000 students. Southern churches have greatly developed their educational centres. Sentiment in the South is steadily growing in favor of free schools. Outside the cities and large towns, however, public schools are very few, and, except in Texas, public school funds are inadequate. Still, the movement is forward and hopeful. Education should be under Christian leadership. Northern patriotic philanthropy must continue to do more each year. No more important missionary field can be found. What shall the new South be? More than any other organized moral power in America the Methodist Episcopal Church is responsible for the proper answer to this question. BEF AN ITALIAN ON GEORGE ELIOT. Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, December. EFORE I understood the Latin character as well as I do now from having lived among a Latin people, it had often seemed strange to me that George Eliot, the writer whom the English regard as one of the greatest novelists our country has produced, should be so little known, and, even when known, should be so little appreciated, in France and Italy, and especially in the latter country. On considering the matter more deeply, however, I came to the conclusion that it is George Eliot's distinctly and radically English character that has made her thus unpalatable to Latin minds. Freethinker, Mazzinian, positive idealist, though she was, according to all the successive phases of her development, George Eliot, nevertheless, remained all her life true to her race, her hereditary bias, and was au fond a Puritan of Puritan England; an earnest uncompromising adherent to the views that have moulded the English character and have made it what it is in its strength and in its weakness. She is too desperately, too uniformly serious to attract instinctively the lighter souls of the glad and sunny south. She is the product of a country of gray skies and heavy atmospheres, and even her humor, so constant and abundant, is sad in its origin, and often nearer to tears than to laughter. To read her novels is not to find in them the recreation in search of which readers usually turn to works of fiction. It is, therefore, a surprise as well as a pleasure to come across a book* about George Eliot, written by an Italian, and written, moreover, in a spirit of most devout admiration tempered by a cultivated critical faculty. The author is Signor Gaetano Negri, at one time Syndic (Mayor) of Milan. He is not entirely new to literature, having published some clever, thoughtful essays and a very able study on Prince Bismarck. To the " Art of George Eliot" Signor Negri devotes a chapter, which is important, new, and suggestive in many points; and where it is not absolutely new in idea, it is new in the mode of presentation, from the fact that the opinions are put forward in another language, which means through the medium of another mode of regarding and judging-for diversity of language implies more than mere difference of speech; it involves a different method of viewing life. Every language that we learn opens out and adds a new world to our comprehension. The keynote of George Eliot's art Signor Negri qualifies as essentially realistic, or, as he puts it, veristic-a word which it would be well if we could introduce into the English language, the term realistic having, as our critic says, been of late so terribly abused. The Italian critic contemplates the author under his consideration more from a moral than from an artistic point of view-a standpoint all the more extraordinary for an Italian, as Italians are apt to regard art first, and morality as very * George Eliot, La sua vita ed i suoi Romanzi. 2 vols. Fratelli Treves, Milan. 1891. much of a secondary consideration. According to Signor Negri, George Eliot did not desire art for art's sake, nor apparently does he. There will be a natural curiosity to know an Italian critic's opinion of "Romola." Notwithstanding that seldom does an Englishman probably visit Florence without having a copy of "Romola in his trunk, those who have lived long in Italy cannot fail to agree with Signor Negri, that the book is a mistake a judgment, it appears, pronounced upon it by no less a person than Mazzini himself. Romola, as Signor Negri points out, is nothing but a beautiful statue, and the Savonarola of George Eliot never lived except in her imagination. He criticises the book as a “hothouse flower reared with difficulty." The studied archæology, the painfully acquired learning, are too manifest; they oppress the reader, and hamper the spontaneity and truthful presentation. It is a book to be admired at a distance, or by those who have never penetrated below the surface of Italian life; whosoever knows this a little more profoundly, recognizes that at no time, and in no period of their history, would Italians have talked and acted thus. With the exception of To, certainly one of her finest psychological studies, these Florentines of the fifteenth century are English men and women, masquerading in a lucco, aping the speech and mode of thought of another people, but aping it with effort, and their newly acquired erudition too plainly revealed. Miss Blind, in her clever Memoir of George Eliot," says: "Before writing 'Romola' George Eliot had spent six weeks in Florence, in order to familiarize herself with the manners and conversation of. the inhabitants, and (yet) she hardly caught the trick of Italian speech." As if the trick of a speech so idiomatic, so rich, so intricate and difficult as Italian, could be acquired by a foreigner-and that foreigner living as a tourist excluded from Italian society—in the short space of six weeks, when a lifetime spent in the land barely suffices to most people for the acquisition of the Italian tongue, too different in character and tendency for a foreigner ever really to make it his own. Signor Negri is undoubtedly right when he holds that the Florentines of 1494 never talked in the way that George Eliot makes them talk; and many of the things they are made to say would not have been said by them because they are too obvious, while others would have been said under certain special circumstances only. Equally right, in my opinion, is Signor Negri, when he finds but ittle real Jewish character in " Daniel Deronda." George Eliot's Jews are as little Jews as her Florentines are Italians. Both are elaborately formulated puppets, clothed in a dress and language not their own. L THE GERMAN NEWSPAPER PRESS. Nineteenth Century, London, December. AST Spring, the German Emperor in a speech referred to German journalists as "Press-Bengel" (Press-scamps), and Prince Bismarck formerly designated them as quillcattle." The Emperor has decreed that no foreign correspondent can be received at his Court, even though previously presented to his own Sovereign. It has been cleverly said that "every country gets the Jews it deserves," and the same remark might apply to journalists, a very large proportion of whom in Germany are of Hebrew origin. Public opinion in Germany is not the power it is in England, France, and some other countries. The vetoing power of the Crown is very much greater than the force resulting from the voting power of the people. The German Press registers, but rarely initiates. It is the valet and secretary rather than the companion and counselor of the powers that be. To Bismarck the ablest leading articles were only so much "printer's ink," heeded no more than "the wind whistling down an old chimney." No man affected profounder contempt for the Press and its practitioners, as no man-certainly no statesman-ever made a more systematic and effective use of these agencies for his own political ends. But when the dictator of Wilhelmstrasse became the rebellious and resentful exile of Frederichsruh, nothing was more natural than that he should turn to the Press for sympathy and support. On the other hand, it was almost a revolting spectacle to see journalists who had fawned on him like dogs in the heyday of his power, and licked their morsels from his hand, now turn against him with a vicious growl and a forbidding show of teeth. When a man is down, nothing can be more galling than the patronage or the persecution of his previous lackey, and Bismarck since his dismissal from office has had ample cause to smart at this sort of insolence and ingratitude. But he has only himself to blame for it. Of all the Presses of the world, that of Germany-with the single exception, perhaps, of that of Russia-is the most "trained to write to order." Nor can this be greatly wondered at in a country where Government is paternal, or rather, indeed, stepmotherly.. Where it is not.controlled or inspired by the State, the Press is generally in the hands of the Jews, or of other agencies, who have axes to grind. Apart from the Cologne Gazette, which, with all its imperfections, comes nearest to our English ideal of the highest form of journalism, there are few, if any, newspapers in Germany which are at once enlightened, high-minded, independent, patriotic, and, to crown all, well written. Poor in means, the German Press, as a whole, is also petty in motive and performance, and may almost be said to be still in its teething period. How, indeed, could it be anything else? The Imperial law of 1874 abolished Press censorship; that is to say, an editor is no longer compelled to submit a copy of his journal to the police before publication, but is compelled to hand to them one of the first copies after it leaves the printer; when, if anything objectionable be found, the entire edition is liable to confiscation. The Germans are not newspaper readers to the extent that the English and Americans are, True, Berlin has its Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, National Zeitung, Kreuz-Zeitung, Post, Vossische Zeitung, Tageblatt, Freisinnige Zeitung, BörsenCourier, Börsen-Zeitung, Kleines Journal, Reichsbote, Volkszeitung, Vorwärts, Lokal-Anzeiger, Staatsbürger-Zeitung, Berliner Zeitung, Neueste Nachrichten, and Reichsanzeiger, and with all these and other newspapers, can boast of more dailies than London itself. But I doubt whether the aggregate daily issue of all these prints is equal to one of our "greatest circulation in the world," while there is one newspaper in Paris, the Petit Journal, which unquestionably beats the record of them all. Of the Berlin newspapers, some, like the Tageblatt, are written by Jews for Jews; others, such as the Kreuz-Zeitung, are laboriously pieced together by Germans for Germans; another list, like the Börsen-Courier, ministers to the wants of the Bourse; a fourth class, including the Vorwärts, and the Volkszeitung, preaches, or, rather, screeches to the hungry proletariat the dazzling doctrines of liberty, equality, and fraternity; a fifth class, with the National-Zeitung and the Vossische Zeitung at its head, affects to champion bourgeois bier-politics, softened with a dash of academic pedantry and the belles-lettres; while a final phalanx, led by organs like the North German Gazette and the Post, act as the devoted tools and speaking-trumpets of the Government and the ruling classes. There are not more than three journals in Berlin which ever get independent telegrams of any length from foreign capitals. As the Empire has capitals where art and law, commerce and learning, are more at home than in Berlin, so, also, it has newspapers on the Rhine, the Main, and the Elbe, which outshine the journals of the Spree-newspapers like the Cologne Gazette (Kölnische Zeitung), the Frankfurter Zeitung, and the Hamburger Nachrichten. In their methods and spirit of enterprise these journals are more English than any others in the Empire. When Lord Beaconsfield went to Berlin for the Congress, he was made the object of so much panegyric on the part of the Press, as to lead his English countrymen to think that all Germany had "enthused" for him and his methods. The fact was that this "Disraeli boom came from his being caught up by the multitudes of his own clannish race who man the German Press, and thus elevated into a sort of hallelujah-heroism which Disraeli himself had been the first to wonder at. Far be it from me to insinuate that the statesman who brought home to us from Berlin "peace with honor," was not worthy of all praise at the hands of Berlin journalists, whether German or Jew. I instance the case to show how the Press of Germany can manufacture opinion which is not truly German, and to make it clear that there are others than encroaching Papalists, who have most decidedly established an imperium in imperio within the borders of the Fatherland. THE THE COMING MAN IN FICTION. Harvard Monthly, Cambridge, Mass., December. coming man in fiction has, .n some measure, already come. For the ast ten years his advent has been foreshadowed in French iterature, and more than one antitype of him has ound a resting place between the covers of the English novel. Only now, however, when the realists have nearly finished sowing their wild oats, .s .he time growing ripe for appreciating this coming man, and only in the near future will he appear as the acknowledged and dominant hero of fiction. one. The principle, "Every author his own hero," is not a new Authors heretofore have shown themselves only too ready to look in their own hearts and write; but the principle 'Every author his own no-hero," is refreshingly unusual. The coming hero is the author, stripped of his own illusions concerning himself. He is neither grand, gloomy, and peculiar, nor ascinatingly brutal, and not even fastidiously cynical. He is the average man, in so far as the author himself is the average man; or, rather, he is the apotheosis of the author's selfconsciousness—a psychical study from the nude. The hero is generally presented to us full-grown, or with only some suggestion of the manner in which his self-conscious dreamy childhood, his self-conscious inquisitive youth, developed logically into his self-conscious contemplative manhood. During his boyhood he possessed a bevy of enthusiasms, no doubt, the exceeding prettiness of which he sometimes regrets. When, however, his transient flirtations with charming ideals developed the bad little habit of ideals and began to bore him, he sensibly eft them and rode away. They had served their purpose of assisting soul development. He is bloodless, perhaps; an earthling without the warmth of earth, a transcendentalist for the sake of experiment. In fact, he would seem to live for the sake of experiment. A certain want of virility would induce one to call him feminine, except for a lack of feminine impulsiveness; sensitive as a woman, certainly, with more than the average overrated feminine intuition. His own conception of the feminine man is flattering, as one who combines the charm of both sexes and understands either equally well; but he hardly cares to put himself in that category. If he should be there, just consider how many grandmothers he has had! In the books which claim him as hero, his position is something of a sinecure. Little plot exists, and to work him into that little is difficult. A hero, however, can hardly sit apart, like Brahma on the lotus-blossom, in immobile contemplation, and in this difficulty he finds himself compelled to fall in love. He realizes his passion with a new exhilaration, tempered by a slight disgust—rather as though he had caught himself getting drunk. He plays with the feeling delicately. He had believed himself almost too civilized for anything so primitive, so emotional; but after his attenuated sensations, the impulse seems refreshingly savage, valuable as a bond between himself and humanity, and pretty good fun on the whole. For he is not above fun, when he can force himself to understand it. Then he dissects the woman. He desires to take her as she is, not to mould her personally into the form of a preconceived ideal of his own; but he finds it hard. She must be as civilized as himself, but less consciously so. She must be plastic, yet hold her individuality secure. Her sense of life must be poignant, except where he is concerned. She must understand him, and yet not understand him. In short, he wants continuous adoration. He owns the soft impeachment with some amusement, and regards this abandonment of his usual candor as a rather human touch. One day he says something particularly pretty, and she rewards him with an emotional little movement which flings the tendon along her throat into too strong relief. She momentarily grates upon him. He feels: "Was this spontaneous, or did she intend to make a telling little scene? No, because it was unbecoming-but she may have counted upon my believing it impulsive, because of its unbecomingnessWhy did she do it?" Finally, he reaches some substratum of disgust within himself, and feels, like the prisoner in his shrinking cell, that the walls of his own refinement are closing hopelessly around him. He is out of touch with life. Through their very fineness his sensibilities have become blunted, and his communication with the world is like the song of an insect pitched in so high a key that mortal ears cannot hear it. He realizes that his humanity, his manhood, disappeared with the elimination of the brute from his nature. He is no longer capable of even affecting a woman, and from the bottom of his sick heart he envies the thorough-going tough! which Mutabilitie, the daughter of the defeated Titans, claims from Jove the supreme place among the Olympian Gods, on the ground that everything is subject to change and decay, is a magnificent fragment, well deserving a passing notice in a review of Spenser's works. Jove would not yield to her demand, and she challenged him to disprove the justice of her claim before great Nature herself, supreme over gods and men. Then every living thing came to the hill of Arlo, where the Goddess took her seat to deliver judgment in the mightiest cause that was ever tried. There sat the great veiled Being, of whom none could say whether she were man or woman, young or old, still, or in motion, for she was "Unseene of any, yet of all beheld." Before her Mutabilitie pleaded perpetual change, and brought as witnesses the Seasons and the Hours, Night and Day, Life and Death, even the heavenly bodies themselves, since all must change. Then Nature, after long silence looked up and spoke: "I well consider all that you have sayd, And changed be; yet, being rightly wayd, That over them Change doth not rule and raigne, And thee content thus to be ruled by me, For thy decay thou seekest by thy desire, But time shall come that all shall Changed bee, And from thenceforth none no more Change shall see." “And the last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death." This is the teaching which ends this greatest of all fragments, and the last words written are a prayer that, when change shall be swallowed up in the sameness of eternity: A "With him that is the God of Sabbath hight Oh, that great Sabbath God, grant me that Sabbath's sight!" SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. ALUMINIUM, THE METAL OF THE FUTURE. PROFESSOR Joseph W. RicHARDS. Cosmopolitan, New York, January. MONG the exhibits at the International Exposition held at Paris in 1855, there were few more interesting than a small bar or ingot of a silver white metal-aluminium-labeled "L'Argent de L'Argile," or, silver from clay. This was the first specimen of that metal that had ever been produced, although it is the most abundant metal in nature: Professor Clarke, of Washington, estimates that the earth's crust contains 7.81 per cent. of Aluminium, and 5.46 per cent. of iron. The first suggestion that alumina, the basic substance of clay was metallic, was made by Professor Baron in a communication to the Academie Royal in 1760, in which he stated that he believed a metal to be part of the constitution of the base of Alum, and that although he had failed to reduce it, he believed that in the future it would be done. The revelations in chemistry made by Lavoisier and Dr. Priestly in 1780 indicated that the earthy bases were probably metallic oxides, and alumina was thenceforth looked upon as being the oxide of a metal which had not been isolated. Many experimenters at once set to work to reduce the metal, but no one succeeded in finding an element with such affinity for oxygen that it Iwould take it away from Alumina and so leave the Aluminium free. But, in 1824, Oersted, a Swede, combined Aluminium with chlorine, and, in 1827, Prof. Wöhler of Göttingen discovered that metallic potassium had such a strong affinity for chlorine that it would take it out of the aluminium chloride, and leave the metal free. But Wöhler's was only a partial victory. He passed the vapor of potassium over the aluminium chloride, and although it removed the chlorine, it left the aluminium as a fine metallic powder, which resisted all his efforts to fuse it into a lump. Twenty-seven years later Deville repeated the experiment, and then reversed the process, sending the chloride as a vapor over melted potassium, and obtained a button of aluminium. The metal thus produced cost more than its weight in gold, but Deville now set to work in earnest in search of a cheaper process. He melted aluminium chloride mixed with common salt, and subjected the liquid to the decomposing force of an electric current. Again he obtained aluminium, but this was before the days of electric machines, and the cost of electricity from a battery made the metal very expensive. Deville then went back to his first method, but substituted the cheaper sodium for potassium, and produced a larger quantity of aluminium, some of which was cast into the ingot displayed at the exhibition, and some worked into a baby rattle, which was beautifully chased and presented to the Prince Imperial. The emperor was interested. and furnished funds for the prosecution of Deville's experiments. After two years experimenting the manufacture was commenced on a commercial scale, and aluminium was produced for about eight dollars a pound and sold |