other gives a very doubtful consent to the concession that is made to the opponents of the eternal duration of Hell.

The passage in St. John Chrysostom is from the third of his Homilies on the Epistle to the Philippians. Now, as far as I can pick out the drift of a passage, which is to be judged rather by the rules of rhetoric than by the standard which we should employ in a dogmatic treatise, St. John Chrysostom is urging his hearers to pray only for those rich Christians who might have purchased in this life, by a good use of their riches, the forgiveness of their sins, and, having failed to do so, are expiating them in purgatory. He distinctly excludes even catechumens, and, much more, all pagans and non-Christians. To quote a passage open to dispute is no very persuasive mode of argument.

The Hymn of Prudentius is correctly quoted, but an argument from poetry is never a very reliable one. But, even if we take the testimony of the poet as a statement of dogmatic opinion, we shall not find that he takes us very far in the direction of Professor Mivart's theory. His statement is that, for the single night when our Lord rose from the dead, the lost had some sort of repose.

Professor Mivart says: “The learned Petavius boldly affirms that this opinion, which has been entertained by the Fathers of the Church, is not to be lightly treated." What does Petavius say? His words are these: The opinion (of a respite allowed for a time to the lost) is not to be lightly brushed aside (explodenda) as an absurdity, though it is opposed to the general agreement (aliena a communi sensu) of Catholics of the present day."

Here I must make two remarks that are of importance. The one is that in all the authorities quoted there is no trace whatever of the "gradual amelioration" and the " process of evolution" which Professor Mivart would have us believe goes on in Hell. The other point to be insisted on is that the fact that the Church has never condemned an opinion does not prove that it is a tenable one.

I now come to another doctrine of Professor Mivart's, which is one of the most mischievous and unfounded of all. He asserts that it is the teaching of St. Augustine that the damned existence is preferable to non-existence, and that this is the lesson taught by Catholic theologians. We fear we must charge Professor Mivart with a third fallacy, viz., the "Fallacy of references," which consists in making a statement in the text about the opinions of some author, and giving references which are supposed to support the doctrine attributed to him, whereas they do nothing of the sort. Of the two passages quoted from St. Augustine, there is not a single word about the lost. To assert, as Professor Mivart does on St. Augustine's authority, that the existence of the very worst of men is felt by him to be preferable to non-existence, and to infer from this that his suffering is less than the sufferings of a man on Earth, is to build a statement which is untrue, on a supposed foundation which does not exist at all.

I do not pretend to have done more than deal with the statements in Professor Mivart's article which seem to me most obviously out of harmony with the Church's teaching, and, therefore, most dangerous in their effects on the souls of men. I do not say, that Professor Mivart denies the faith, and I would not be so presumptuous as to take upon myself to attach any theological censure to his statements. But I do not hesitate to say that they seem to me at variance with the teaching of the Church, and calculated to do immeasurable mischief to the souls of men.

The Fire of Hell.-Anent the recent discussion raised by Professor Mivart, regarding the true nature of hell-fire it may be of interest to recall an answer of the S. Poenitentiaria in a case published in Il divin Salvatore under date May 27, 1890. A parish priest of Mantua (Italy) proposed the, following question as a casus conscientia: A penitent had expressed it

as his conviction that the "fire" of hell spoken of in the sacred writings had not a literal but a metaphorical sense, and meant something extremely painful. Could such a person be absolved in consideration of the fact that similar views are openly expressed by others in his own locality?

The answer of the S. Poenitentiaria (April 30, 1890) was: Sacra Poenitentiaria ad praemissa respondit: “Hujusmodi poenitentes diligenter instruendos esse, et pertinaces non esse absolvendos."--American Ecclesiastical Review, New York, Feb

ruary.

MISCELLANEOUS.

TURKESTAN.

DINGELSTAEDT.

Translated and Condensed for THE LITERARY DIGEST from a Paper (25 pp.) in Vestnik Europy, St. Petersburg, December.

THI

THIS vast region of Central Asia, bordered on the north by Siberia, on the south by Persia, Afghanistan, and several other Hill States, whence it is only a stone's-throw to India, that is, if you are an expert in stone-throwing, has been for many years in the hands of Russia. The Governor is the Grand-Duke Nicolai Constantinowitsch, whose princely residence is in Taschkend, the capital of Turkestan, a city of about 90,000 inhabitants.

This territory, claimed, as stated, by the Russians, amounts to about 104,000,000 square deciatin; 1,000,000 is cultivated, 1,000,000 belongs to the Nomad-Kirghis, and the other 102,000,000 are barren tracts of sand-dry, flying, shifting sand,and saline morasses. One of these desert tracts bears the gruesome name of “Famine steppe." But the region, in spite of deserts, steppes, and brackish waters, is not bare of natural charms, especially where rivers and fountain-springs pervade the landscape.

For at least sixteen years or more the Russians have been advancing here. The colonists prosper, thanks to the privileges offered to them by their Government. Each family settling here receives ten or twenty deciatin of land, on condition that they cultivate and build. One hundred houses make up a village. Each village has to establish a school and a church. For the first ten years they are free from military service. No taverns are allowed in the villages, to which fact is due much of their prosperity. But when they go to town, they must buy a little bottle of "wodki," for total abstinence would be impossible for a Russian.

They are very thrifty. They raise oats and wheat to a large extent. To eat white bread is a luxury in itself for the Russian, who usually lives on black bread, and even worse food. Their houses are built of clay and wood, roofed with straw, shaded by trees, and surrounded with gardens. Here you will always see the favored sunflower, out of the seed of which they make oil, which is of much use to them during Lent. For the people do really keep Lent most strictly.

The women are here, as in their own country, good housewives; they spin and weave flax and wool, and do almost all work with their never-tiring hands. In the larger establishments one sees here and there sewing-machines.

The picture a Russian official gives us of these colonies is most attractive. Anyone who has lived among the Russian people knows that they are of as noble character as any people on the globe-of course, if they are not tipsy. They are willing to work, and eager in commercial life. They are, indeed, born merchants. They are strict in their religious observances, and, being rather superstitious than pious, they fear that a neglect of these would prejudice their material welfare. The Russian is, indeed, a religious man. His daily routine of life is ruled by religion; he will never leave his cottage or enter it without crossing himself before the picture of his patron saint, hanging in a corner of the room. He will never sit down for his meals without having made these crosses. Each work is begun with

prayer. For each success he first thanks God. “Slawa Bogu' -thanks to God—is an everyday ejaculation. That is the plain idealism of the Russian peasant, and, therefore, they may well call their country "Holy Russia."

They are gay and sociable, fond of singing, dancing, cracking jokes, and teasing one another to the utmost. Finding all the resources of contentment in themselves, they do not regret their old country. On the shores of the Asiatic Sir- and AmuDarya they dance as merrily as by the waters of their fatherland.

True to their traditions they have established schools and churches, which the Government provides with priests and teachers.

There is but one village, at the utmost limits of this district, where the people feel lonely and discontented. Living far away from all communication, they cannot sell their superfluous products, and consequently do not raise more than for their own consumption.

Even in this remote country there has been found a colony of Mennonites, a religious sect that, about a century ago, fled from Prussia, in order to escape military service. These first found a home in Russia, but when this Government made also military service compulsory, they emigrated to this country or to Asia. They are a quiet, prosperous, industrious people, living according to their plain, religious dogmas. But the Russians do not sympathize with such serious, demure people; they agree better with the Kirgises, the aborigines of Turkestan, a nomadic tribe, who of all things love best and first their cattle. They, with their beloved beasts, move from place to place, and never own real estate; they live in tents or shelters of clay. The Russian settlers live on friendly terms with these Barbarians and exchange little services with them.

The chief plagues of these colonies, apart from the cold winter and the wolves, are the Kirgis horse-thieves, and the sparrows; to get rid of these birds is the children's special, and I do not doubt most delightful, business. But they are not very successful in their little wars against their winged enemies.

The Russian Government fully and firmly believes in the future development of this country. When science shall succeed in converting salt waters into sweet ones, sands into fertile plains and morasses into lovely gardens, then this vast territory will nourish millions of people, and culture will flow into this country!—this Turkestan that was perhaps inhabited by the Aryans, the most cultivated prehistoric race!

THR

THE CITIES OF THE DEAD.

HREE thousand years before the historical period, in the days when Egypt had reached the pinnacle of her civilization, the valleys of the twin streams, the Euphrates and the Tigris, were also the seat of a flourishing culture. Only one memorial of its architecture has been unearthed, and for this we are indebted to the labors of Ernest von Carzec, the French Consul at Basra. It is that of an old palace, on the site of the present Tello, midway between the Tigris and the Euphrates. Approximately to the same age as this palace-ruins, must be ascribed the two Necropolises discovered in 1886-87 by Mr. Simon, under the direction of Dr. Moritz and architect Koldewey, in South Babylon. The find consisted simply of earthen vessels, flint knives, and bones; nevertheless, it is a very important contribution to our knowledge of the Babylonians; for it solves the question of how the Babylonians and Assyrians disposed of their dead. We now know that they did not embalm their bodies, but that they had consecrated spots where they burnt them with reeds and asphalt. Both cities of the dead, Surgul and El Hibba, are large crematories.

Here the dead were laid on soft, smooth beds of mud drawn from the neighboring swamp. Around them various gifts were arranged, especially ornaments and vessels, and the whole covered with a second layer of mud; reeds and asphalt were then piled on the top, and the whole was soon a volume of flame which penetrated to the body and consumed it. The ashes were then collected in an earthen vessel, deposited in the same place, and near by were placed other vessels containing food and drink to still the cravings of hunger and thirst. In the Necropolis of El Hibba there are numerous streets with small houses, evidently built as the resting-places of whole families. Here, too, the ashes were collected in earthen vessels; each room contained a large earthen pot for provisions, let into the ground, and pipe-wells provided a permanent supply of water. Like other races of antiquity the Babylonians were firm believers in a life beyond the grave, and never doubted that, although the body might be burned, the dead continued to live in another state with the same desires and appetites as here; and that bread and water were necessary to save them from eternal death. The man, in the life beyond, needed his arms, the woman her trinkets, and the child her doll; and all these the pious survivors religiously furnished. Like the Egyptians, the Babylonians had probably no clear idea of the conditions of life in that mysterious land from which no traveler returns, but their poets strove to depict it, and as their conceptions are of universal human interest we append one.

THE GODDESS ISTAR'S (ASTARTE) JOURNEY INTO HELL. "To the land from which there is no returning, to the distant land, the realm of corruption, the desires of Istar, the Moon-god's daughter, went forth. The Moon-god's daughter yearned for the House of Darkness, the dwelling-place of the God Irkalla, the house which has one door of ingress, but none of exit; the house reached by a road which has no print of returning footstep, the house whose inhabitants dwell in darkness, and whose food and sustenance are dust and filth; where the spirits flit about like birds, and door and gratings are covered with eternal dust.

"When Istar reached the gateway of the land from which no traveler returns, she called aloud, Janitor, open thy door! Open thy door, for I will enter. Wilt thou not? then will I wrest the door from its hinges, dash the framework to splinters and awaken the dead, that they will eat and drink and consort with the living.' Terrified by these threats the janitor hastened to the oddess of the Under-world, Allatu, to report what had occund. When Allatu heard, she paled like a plucked flower, and trembled like a reed. For she realized what evil would befall the earth if Istar, the goddess of love and fruitfulness, should turn her back upon it for ever. She wept for the men who would forsake their wives, for the wives who would turn away from the side of their husbands, and for the children who would fade before their time. Nevertheless, she ordered the janitor to open the door, and to treat the new-comer according to ancient and established custom.' Away went the porter and opened the door. 'Step in, mistress, and may the Under-world shout and the palaces of the Underworld rejoice in thy coming.' Then Istar entered the Kingdom of Hades, but ere she could arrive in the land from which there is no returning,' there were seven portals through which she must pass. The janitor, having led her past the first portal, took the crown from her head. 'Janitor, why hast thou wrested the crown from my head?' 'Pass on, mistress, for such are the commands of the queen of the country.' At each successive door the janitor took from her some article of adornment and apparel. Each time Istar asked him why he did so, and each time he gave the like answer: Such are the orders of the queen of the country.' Quite naked was Istar when she at length passed the seventh door and entered the real Hades, where Allatu met her with angry mien, and smote her with various diseases for her insolence, and drove her into eternal banishment. Then the news spread that while Love lingered in Hell, the wellsprings of life on earth were dried up; and the heavenly gods themselves decided to bring her back. The god of wisdom, Ea, sent an ambassador to the Under-world and commanded Allatu in the name of the great gods to deliver Istar up to him. And actually Allatu fulfilled the otherwise impossible command. She ordered her servant to burst the dungeon in which Istar was confined, to pour over her the water of life, and let her depart from my kingdom.' Her commands were obeyed, and the servant guided her back through the seven portals to the realm of the living, rehabilitating her at each door in the adornment and apparel of which he had there bereft her." Here the legend ends.

·

Books.

CRIMINOLOGY. By Arthur Mac Donald.

by Dr. Cesare Lombroso. 12mo, 416 pp. Wagnalls Company. 1893.

THAT

With an Introduction New York: Funk &

'HAT everv psychological phenomenon has its physiological basis has long been an axiom of modern science, but the theory that vicious and criminal tendencies are ascribabie to inherited physiological defects is only now fighting its way into general recognition. Professor Lombroso is the leader of the new school, and is well known for his insistence on a criminal type, recognizable by numerous physical characteristics, not deducible as such on physio-psychological grounds, but arrived at by a comparative study of the percentage of special abnormal physical defects among the criminal classes, and the general population.

Mac Donald's views as here enunciated are more hopeful and less decided. He presents the views of Lombroso and kindred writers without comment, and it appears to be rather incidentally than consciously that he antagonizes them by the expression of his own views. He says:

Criminal phenomena and the manifestations of insanity bring nothing new; they are nothing further than distorted or diseased manifestations of mental activities, which by themselves are present in every man; but in some they develop in one or the other direction. No one is sure that his mental soundness cannot be endangered through outer or inner troubles, or that he can escape inclinations which might lead to crime.

The foregoing is in radical contradistinction to the teachings of Lombroso. It allies crime to insanity, that is, it treats it as a pathological condition, whereas Lombroso treats it as akin to idiocy, that is, as due to constitutional defect. Our author hardly ventures to frame a theory of crime, or to segregate" types to be distinguished as criminal classes on physiological grounds; he finds the evidences of criminality too widespread. In his chapter on The Evolution of Crime, he says:

Looking at man from a scientific point of view he exceeds ail others in criminality; he kills not only his own species, which the animals rarely do, but beings of all other species, with impunity; those which it is not an advantage to kill he subjects to slavery. At present the bloody idea of war still remains in the whole human race. Modern Europe, where the highest civilization exists, has at least 12,000,000 men trained for war. But it is said that war has the advantage of purging the race. To accomplish this, however, cholera is much more preferable, for the lower strata are preeminently the sufferers, while in war much of the best blood of a nation is sacrificed. The savage instinct of murder is still deeply rooted. War, from the natural history point of view, is universal murder, an extension and development of universal homicide.

1

Part I. of the work is devoted almost exclusively to the citation of Lombroso and others for the physical and psychological side of the criminal, his intelligence, effect of criminal association, criminal contagion, etc. Part II., falling under the head of Special Criminology, is devoted to individual and typical cases personally studied by the author in penal and reformatory institutions of America, and, as he says, the " type" has been considered from the psychological rather than the physical side. The writer's own views, as far as they are indicated, are evidently in sympathy with those who regard crime as in a great measure the result of a neglected education, and as such amenable to wholsome influences. All men," he says, how old in crime, can at least be improved and benefited." As to his general conclusions, he says:

no matter

Education, in the narrow sense of mere intellectual instruction, is not sufficient to reform children who spend one-fourth of the day in school, and three-fourths on the street, or with criminal, drunken, or idle parents. There are reform schools, but they make no provision for little children. Not a few of the inmates of reformatories come there practically incorrigible, and the testimony of prison wardens is that some of the most hopeless prisoners are graduates of reform schools. The fault is not in the reform schools, but in allowing children to live the first years of their life in surroundings that almost predestine to crime. Reformatories are expected to erase the indelible criminal impressions made upon children from birth, or before, till the age of six. Instead of deserving criticism, the wonder is that reformatories do as much as they do.

The criminally inclined are especially weak in moral impulse, and below the average in intellect and physique. The education of the will is the main factor, but the training of the intellect and sentiments are necessary to this end. The remedy, therefore, for crime must be general, gradual, and constant. There is no specific. Every reformatory is a school in which emphasis is laid on moral and industrial habits, which in the young become, as it were, a part of their nervous organization. This is shown by the fact that moral individuals, when hypnotized, unconsciously resist evil suggestions. The best prisons of the future will be reformatory prisons and the main features of reform will be the inculcation of good mental, moral, physical, and industrial habits; in other words, education. The Bibliography of Crime, arranged according to languages, covers 130 pages, and constitutes a valuable chapter of reference for students of Criminology.

BRUCHSTÜCKE DES EVANGELIUMS ÜND DER APOK ALYPSE DES PETRUS. Von Adolf Harnack. Leipzig: Hinrichs. 1893.

[The author of this work, the occupant of the chair of Neander in the Berlin University, is, since the death of the venerable Professor Delitzsch, of Leipzig, without any doubt the most famous and influential theological teacher in Germany. Although the son of the late conservative and even confessional Professor Theodosius Harnack, of Dorpat, he is the leading representative of advanced, but not extreme radical, criticism in the Fatherland. Just at present he is the cynosure of all eyes, as he is the protagonist of the liberal clans in the great Apostles' Creed controversy in Germany. As a critical scholar he stands in the very front rank, and it is doubtful if any other man has a better right to be heard in regard to the great literary finds recently made in Egypt-the Gospel and the Apocalypse of Peter. He, if anybody, can speak with authority on this matter. This work is probably the ablest discussion of the subject yet published. We give here the most interesting of Harnack's conclusions.]

WE

E have in these fragments, without any doubt, the Apochryphal Gospel and the Apocalypse of Peter which were extensively used and quoted in early Patristic literature. A comparison of their character and contents with the citations in question prove this most satisfactorily. In these finds we have rediscovered important documents bearing upon the earliest history of the Church, which had beer. entirely lost. Both of these writings date from the second century, or were probably written at the beginning of that century. The latter is quite probable, as it can be seen from the writings of Justin the Martyr that he already knew at least of the Gospel of Peter, and referred to it in his works. The Gospel fragments contain not quite one-half of the entire work as it existed in early days, for the fragments embrace some 131 stichoi, while early writers ascribe 276 stichoi to the full work. Of the Apocalypse we have more than one-half left. From a purely literary point of view this latter is a most interesting document. We see in it the earliest example of that class of literature which finds its classical and complete development in Dante's "Inferno," and we can find the predecessor of Virgil and Dante in the "Apostle Peter" of the beginning of the second century.

Naturally the deepest interest in connection with the new Gospel of Peter centres in its relation to our canonical Gospels and the literary problems which these writings contain. How do the contents of this Gospel harmonize with those of our four New Testament narratives of Christ and His work? The most natural impression made by a perusal of the new work is that it is dependent more or less on the Gospels of the New Testament, and this impression is confirmed by a closer comparison. It does not admit of any doubt that the author of the Peter Gospel used our canonical work; for it contains a number of statements from Evangelical history which are not found elsewhere than in the Second Gospel. Reasonably certain, but not to the same extent as is the case in reference to Mark, is the dependence on Matthew. Possibly both Matthew and this volume drew from a common source. Practically the same is the state of affairs in reference to its relation to Luke, while it seems quite certain that the Fourth Gospel was used in this document. However, the relations existing between the contents of the Peter Gospel and the four canonical Gospels is not that of absolute dependence on the part of the former. This writing contains so many statements concerning Christ and His work that either it made exceedingly free use of the Gospels of the New Testament, even changing some of their statements, or else it made use of sources not used in the canonical records. The latter is the more probable, and, at all events, we must conclude that when the work was written the evangelical traditions, i. e., the oral accounts of the Lord, current among early Christians, had not yet been definitely and finally settled. The material of Gospel history was yet in a fluctuating state. In regard to some points, as, e. g., the Resurrection of Christ, we have here an earlier tradition even than is found in the canonical Gospels, and in this regard it is, next to Paul, our best authority for the study of that historic event. The new Gospel fragments by no means settle the Synoptic and other literary problems of the Gospel; on the contrary, they for the present add an element of perplexity to those already involved. The Gospel of Peter has no harmonistic tendencies, and is no Diatessaron. Just for that reason, as representing an independent stream of Gospel narrative and tradition, it is of exceptional value for the study of these vexing and perplexing enigmas which confront the New Testament specialist.

[The Great Composers treated of in this volume are fifteen in number, of whom twelve are Germans, two-Rossini and Donizetti--are Italians, and one, Chopin, was a Pole by birth, though a Parisian by training and residence. Mr. Rowbotham has made a reputation as a writer on musical subjects, and these entertaining sketches will interest all who have any love for music. A feature of the work, which makes it useful as a book of reference, is that to each of the papers is appended a Synopsis of the Life and a List of the Works of the Composer who is the subject of the paper. It is difficult to understand how a man stone deaf could derive any enjoyment from making sounds he could not hear. Yet such, we are assured in the extract below, was the case with Beethoven. To this we add the statement of the pitiable income of John Sebastian Bach, and some remarks upon Wagner's plots and music which may be profitably read by those who insist that Wagner's operas should be the staple of our musical diet.]

A

FTER dinner Beethoven sits down to another enjoyment infinitely greater, not the physical one of eating, but the spiritual one of playing. His musical work in the morning is one thing; his music in the afternoon is another. In the latter he is no longer tied to the toilsome task of hunting through note-books, the labor of elaborate composition, the drudgery of filling in scores. He sits at the keys and abandons himself to the control of sweet sound, with little attempt at form, regularity, or purpose, and with no design beyond that of pleasure and refreshment. He extemporizes for two hours uninterruptedly, sometimes with lightning rapidity, so that one would wonder how such cascades of notes could fashion themselves in the mind, and be almost simultaneously transferred to the key-board; sometimes with ponderous majesty, great chords coming out like blasts of trumpets from the piano, and the steady rhythm recalling the solidity of a host of soldiers marching; sometimes in the tenderest and most sentimental strains of pure pathos, pouring forth melodies which might express the most sensitive feelings of the heart,-melodies of love, of happiness, of regret, of grief, of despair.

In the midst of one of these sublime strains there is a sudden jangle heard in the harmony; he has laid his left hand with a crash on the key-board, while his right hand is engaged alone in the evolution of some intricate passage in the upper octaves. He is stone deaf; he does not hear the crash of his jangling keys; and as little does he hear the torrents of beauty and divine melody which his hands have been pouring forth these two hours. Not a note has reached his ears. Were the piano a dumb digitorium instead of a sonorous key-board, it would be all the same to him-but not to those outside his door, a listening group which is gathered there, and, with ears intent, is standing awestruck, amazed, drinking in the sound which pours through the crevices.

John Sebastian Bach firmly believed that neither is uninterrupted leisure necessary for composition, nor complete tranquillity, nor an easy life, nor freedom from care, nor money, nor appreciation, nor any of the other prime needs for inspiration which many a musician pleads as indispensable for writing. On the contrary, he believedand he acted on his belief-that a man with a wife and twenty children to support, and an income of only thirteen pounds a year to do it on, a man beset with the cares of a large family, and occupied nearly all day long by onerous duties which never gave him a moment of leisure time, might yet write such compositions as should entitle him to the proud preeminence of being one of the immortal masters of his art,.

The total income on which he relied for the support of himself and family was a stated sum paid him by installments, once a month, of £13 a year. To this was added an extra £2 at Christmas-time for wood and candles. And the following perquisites combined to swell his scanty income by a few pounds more: a fee of one thaler on every wedding at St. Thomas's Church; a like fee at every baptism and funeral; the annual interest on £3 or £4, which was left to the organist by some charitable donor, consisting of the small payment once a year of one thaler ten silver groschen-about four shillings in British money. These trifling sums were of immense importance to Bach, with whom every shilling had its value; and, though ne certainly was not a greedy man-who could be that was content to pass twenty

Admirers of Wagner may maintain that constant change of tune and modulation of key give a beautiful tone-color. To this we reply with the question: Is not such restlessness the very way to destroy all true tone-color, as surely as too great a mixture of tints in painting produces but bewilderment to the eye and confusion?

The development of representative themes is the main system of form on which Wagner relies in his later operas for giving cohesion to the whole. Unfortunately this system of musical treatment is employed by Wagner with such indiscretion that, for the sake of his favorite method of workmanship, he neglects and sets at naught all the ordinary principles of musical art—with the result that supreme formlessness ensues.

In Das Rheingold, the first opera in Der Ring des Nibelungen, Wagner proceeds to the extreme limit of extravagance, so far as subject is concerned, beyond which no composer, dramatist, or even pantomime writer would ever venture to go. The main incidents of Das Rheingold are indeed far more akin to the subjects which interest children in pantomimes, than to the reasonable plots and develop. ments of story which enlist the attention of grown-up people in comedy or opera. In interpreting this remarkable music-drama, we are expected to behold with gravity a procession of events which might raise a smile on the face of a child ten years old.

In each of Wagner's music-dramas there is some strongly objectionable feature, which even the warmest partisans of the master can scarcely excuse, and which the anti-Wagnerians strongly condemn. In Die Walküre, the second drama in the Ring des Nibelungen, the composer has deliberately chosen to handle a theme which the pen of man has hitherto rejected from a feeling of invincible delicacy and shame.

meet.

Siegmund and Sieglinde are twin brother and sister, the children of the God Wotan and a mortal mother, whose mission is to restore the fallen prosperity of heaven; though how they do that, so far as the revelations of this drama go, does not very clearly appear. Sieglinde has been abducted by Hunding, and, against her will, has been forced to marry him. While Hunding is absent, Siegmund and Sieglinde The two fall in love with one another, and on Hunding's return Sieglinde drugs her husband's drink in order that she may have the greater leisure to pursue her guilty purposes. Left once more alone with one another, the lovers discover that they are blood relations in the nearest possible degree. This, however, does not seem to interfere in the slightest with their passion, and they carry their affection to its most disastrous climax. The son of this precious pair is Siegfried, who has a whole play to himself at a further stage of "The Ring," but fortunately for ordinary notions of decorum does not appear in Die Walküre.

The opening of Die Götterdämmerung—which brings "The Ring to a conclusion, is very dreary. The characters first introduced spend most of their time in an elaborate attempt to harmonize the state of things to be depicted in the new drama with the events which have preceded it. The music is of a superior character to that of any of the preceding dramas of the series. The " Trauermarsch' of Siegfried in the last act is popular in most German concert-rooms, and, occurring where it does in the opera, with all the advantage of context and surroundings, produces a very marked impression on the audience. The composer also avails himself of a chorus with considerable skill. The variations from his usual method, however, are unfortunately but occasional, and Die Götterdämmerung contains large masses of music, unredeemed by any beauty, or even by any efforts at producing pleasing effect.

Wagner has indulged in a great deal of turgid writing to prove the moral excellence of the various characters in his musical dramas. Amid much verbal wandering and repetition, one main fact is steadily adhered to-every hero is a type of eternal manhood, and every heroine a type of eternal womanhood. Many of the characters would strike an ordinary observer as far from blameless beings, and in the nature of the legends themselves from which they are selected, their virtue and vice is of an exceedingly raw, hideous, and obtrusive kind.