Roman cement. There is, of course, a wide difference in point of taste between the finest of artificial ruins and the poorest of modern cathedrals; but the same spirit which produced the one is seldom, perhaps, quite absent from the other. Nor is this entirely to be regretted; for the spirit is a good one, however mistaken may be the ways in which it has occasionally shown itself. When, almost a century ago, the modern world first came to see how much there was of interest and of excellence in the work of the Middle Ages, it naturally tried, as the first result, to copy that work line for line. It is always so with learners. In the nature of things they must begin by imitating their model just as it stands; and it is only later, if at all, that they come to see what points in it are fit and what are unfit for the ultimate object they may have in view. Till they see that, they are at best only apprentices: when they see it and can act upon it, they are nearer by one step to the level of the men whose productions they study. to place the congregation at the best advantage. What a modern cathedral needs, as distinguished from an ancient one, is a large amount of unobstructed space. Even the great area under the dome of St. Paul's is too small for the crowds who often press into it. And, looking to the future, provision may wisely be made in a new building for the people who are brought together not only by an ordinary service or by a favorite preacher, but also by the perform. ance of important musical works of a religious character. For this last object a more extended nave may be allowable than the very short one that would suffice for the others; since a chorus, and even a powerful voice as a solo, can be fairly heard at a distance which makes a speaker inaudible. The first thing, then, looking for the moment only at the utilitarian aspect of the problem, is to provide space for as large a congregation as possible within hearing of the prayers, the lessons, and the sermon. This, probably, is all The most careless observer cannot fail the space that will commonly be used. to see much in our old cathedrals which, When this has been done, more space however admirable as art, is unsuited to can still be added by lengthening the nave the purposes of to-day. They contain towards the west, which will be valuable many features which, both for their his- at those special times when singing rather tory and their beauty, ought to be most than speaking is intended to be listened religiously preserved where they exist; to. These conditions seem to point to a but which, like artificial ruins, cannot with wide nave and a large central area; yet any regard to truth or reason be set up not to so large a one that, as at St. Paul's, where they do not. Of this kind are the it will dwarf all the rest of the church, numerous chapels which, as at Westmins- and absorb nearly all the sound, either of ter, cluster round the choir, and which, speaking or singing. There is one other deprived of their priests and their altars, alternative, and that is to make this cennow serve only as receptacles for tombs. tral area in itself the church - expanding We may be very sure that the men of old it till the nave becomes a mere vestibule, would never have built them in this shape and the choir a mere appendage. Such a for this purpose alone, and that they would scheme was proposed, as most people by no means have designed the chevet of know, in the original design for St. Paul's; Westminster or the eastern transept of but it was rejected then, and it departs so Durham for a ritual which practically ad- widely from customary forms that any mits only one altar for each of its churches. thing like it would probably be rejected It is possible, however, to limit too nar- now. Its possibilities would be magnifirowly the uses of a cathedral. Some five- cent in the hands of an architect with an and-twenty years ago the late Sir Gilbert unconquerable determination to secure Scott remarked, in a report on the sub-"scale,” solidity, and proportion : without ject, that the great difficulty about our old this it would be little better than a second cathedrals was to find any purpose at all Albert Hall. for the greater part of their area; and he extended this remark, which was true enough of the side-aisles and chapels, even to the naves. Since then the nave of one cathedral after another has been fitted up for popular services; and in large cities the present difficulty is, not that no purpose can be found for the nave of a great church, but that its proportions are too long, and especially too narrow, There is no reason, probably, why the actual choir of a new cathedral should be very different from that of an old one. The transepts might with advantage be shorter and perhaps wider, for acoustic reasons. And though the chapels, with the exception of one for early services, would naturally be omitted, it does not follow that the aisles should also go. They would still be invaluable as means of access and communication, though they would in no case be occupied by seats; and they would be narrower - not perhaps in reality, but still in comparison to the nave than in old examples. A place for monuments and memorials is wanted in every cathedral and this they would easily supply. A great "lantern" would fitly stand above the central area, and throw down a flood of light on that important part of the interior. The central tower is the most characteristic of all features in our ancient churches of the first rank; and this modern use of it would only make it a little more important, and internally a little more effective. The architectural treatment of the wide nave would present, it may be, the chief difficulty in modifying the common cathedral type as reason and naturalness seem, for present purposes, to suggest. This is only saying, in other words, that it would afford the chief opportunity for a really able architect to show what was in him. Naves of all widths still exist in old churches, abroad if not at home from the common one of five-and twenty or thirty feet, up to sixty feet at Alby and Florence, and seventy feet or more at Gerona and at Palma in Mallorca. The difficulty is not one of construction but of proportion; and even here enough has been done to indicate pretty clearly the path of success. Our old cathedrals were not finished in one generation, nor need we wish a new one to be. If the present age supplies the construction, and in the strictest sense the architecture, we may well leave much of the decoration for future times. Considering what decoration is in these days, and yet considering too that there are signs of its gradual improvement, it will be almost enough, in a new cathedral, to map out an appropriate field for it, and then to leave its execution to "the wiser man who springs hereafter." Nor is it only on artistic grounds that this course may be defended. Decoration of a high class must have a meaning and a purpose must tell a story or set forth a creed. The question at once arises, what story or what creed? Every party in the Church or the State will give a different reply; and even if it were possible to find a compromise to which they would all agree, compromises are too tame and spiritless to form the basis of real art. Art, it has been truly said, belongs to people who have made up their minds; and therefore, so far as it relates to stories and creeds, it cannot be attempted with much hope of success in transitional times like the present. So far, on the other hand, as it deals with convenience of arrangement and dignity of proportion, it is as practicable now as ever. If a modern cathedral, then, should in reason depart at certain points from the old lines, it can yet be built at all points on the old principles. What its first builders do they will do well and permanently; but they will leave room for the handiwork of many a future generation, so that when their cathedral grows old it may, like its predecessors, be at once a work of art and a volume of history. From The Spectator. BOOKSELLING IN RUSSIA. THE measure which English teetotallers would deal out to sellers of drink is meted by the government of Russia to sellers of books. In that country literature cannot be reached without a special license, and a special license is hard to obtain. In the whole of the empire there are only five or six firms who hold patents from the crown for the sale of books. The rest are simply tolerated; they merely hold permits granted by the local police, and revocable at their pleasure. It is a strict condition that they deal only in books which have been officially approved. If they are found in possession of any other, their permits are cancelled and themselves prosecuted. Thus, while they may sell the first volume of Lecky's "History of Rationalism in Europe," which was sanctioned by the censors, the second, which has been placed on the index expurgatorius, they may not sell. Should a publisher desire to bring out any sort of serial issue, if it be but a monthly magazine of stories for children, he must undergo a searching and insidious examination as to his religious and political opinions, and if these are not found satisfactory, the application is peremptorily refused. The police may, moreover, visit his shop whenever it seems good to them, and turn his stock topsy-turvy in a search for contraband literature. In these circumstances, as may well be supposed, the opening of a new book-store in a provincial town is regarded as an event. Hence it was that when, some two years ago, M. Kervelli obtained permission from the local authorities to sell books in Karkoff - albeit Karkoff is a city of sixty thousand inhabitants, the seat of a university, and disputes with Kieff and Odessa the intellectual suprem acy of southern Russia-his boldness | the unfortunate bookseller to Odessa, won him admiration, and his success where he was kept in prison twenty-five caused surprise. M. Kervelli, though a days before being examined. Moreover, French citizen, has lived in Russia from the examination, when it did take place, his youth upwards, knows the ways of the was little more than a farce. He was country, and speaks the language without asked whether he belonged to any secret the slightest accent. He is also an ener- society, and whether he was in relation getic man of business; before many with conspirators, or had himself plotted months had passed he was doing an ex- against the established order, questions cellent trade, and had become the largest which, as a matter of course, he answered and most successful bookseller in the re- in the negative. He was next asked if he gion of Kakoff. All the new books pub- had any friends among the officers of the lished in Moscow or St. Petersburg were Karkoff garrison. This question also he found in his store; he kept also a fair was able to answer in the negative. Then assortment of foreign books, and was al- a large box, divided into compartments ways ready to procure direct from Paris like a compositor's case, each filled with any French works desired by his custom-photographs, was produced. Taking one ers, thereby saving them the trouble, ex- of these in his hand, the police functionpense, and delay of getting their supplies ary who conducted the examination inthrough St. Petersburg. He became quired of M. Kervelli whether he knew bookseller to the university by special the original. The bookseller recognized appointment, published several scientific works written or translated by the professors, and his shop was frequented by all the readers and bookbuyers of the town. It is hardly necessary to say that in M. Kervelli's establishment contraband literature was strictly tabooed. His object being to build up a business, it would not have suited his purpose to risk the confiscation of his stock by contravening the law. Nevertheless, the police took umbrage. Prone to suspicion, and always viewing askance anything like intellectual activity, they could only account for M. Kervelli's popularity and success on the supposition that he was dealing in forbidden books. They made him several unexpected and unwelcome visits, and minutely inspected his stock. But ex nihilo nihil fit; there being no contraband matter on the premises, none was found. These proceedings served only to increase M. Kervelli's popularity; and in August, 1883, the police, still under the impression that all was not right, took him into custody, and searched both his house and his store again without result. On this Why," he demanded, "have you kept he naturally expected to be set free, the me in prison eight months? I have more especially as the police hinted that broken no law, neither sold contraband he had been arrested under a misappre- books, nor taken part in any secret socihension. But as they continued to detain ety." "That I know quite well," anhim, M. Boutakoff, one of the richest citi-swered the chief. "You have done nothzens of Karkoff, accompanied by several professors of the university, waited on the governor, bore testimony that M. Kervelli had sold none but useful and authorized books, and pleaded warmly for his release. The governor said he would look into the matter, and promised his interviewers that justice should be done a promise that was fulfilled by sending it as that of a customer who had several times been in his shop. "You are quite right," said the functionary, and then ordered the attendant gaoler to reconduct him to his cell. A few days later he was taken to St. Petersburg and there lodged in prison, where he lay seven months without being once examined or informed of the nature of the offence with which he was charged. Hoping that he might be released and allowed to return to his business at Karkoff, he did not like to complain to the French ambassador, and thereby render the police altogether im placable. But at length he lost patience, and as the mildest measure he could adopt sent a communication to the French consul. This gentleman at once came to see him, and at his request sought an interview with M. Pleve, chief of the political police, not to demand Kervelli's release, but to ask that he might be examined without further delay. He was thereupon brought before M. Pleve and asked some questions, and he took the liberty of asking some in return. 66 ing openly illegal, I admit; but that only shows how very prudent you are, and, therefore, all the more dangerous. It is true, also, that we have found no forbidden literature in your possession. All the same, we know quite well that it is possi ble so to arrange an assortment even of authorized books as to spread subversive ideas quite as effectually as if they were revolutionary pamphlets printed at Geneva." These were M. Pleve's very words. M. Kervelli replied that it was not he, but the public for whom he catered, that chose the books, which they bought and he sold. He could not make people buy this or that book. Moreover, according to the chief's theory, the more innocent a man was, the more he deserved punishment. He was then taken back to his cell. On the consul hearing what had come to pass, he informed M. Pleve that unless Kervelli were either set at liberty or put on his trial, he would bring the affair officially before the ambassador. This brought matters to a crisis. A day or two later M. Kervelli was informed that he would be set at liberty, but that he must leave the country forthwith. As a matter of favor, however, he would be allowed, before being conducted to the frontier, to proceed to Karkoff, in order to dispose of his business and put his affairs in order. So, early in March (1884), he was sent under police escort to the other end of the empire, and, on arriving at his destination, the local authorities politely informed him that he might remain in Karkoff exactly twenty-four hours, and not a moment longer. It is not easy to liquidate a business and dispose of a large stock of books in a day; but the police had thoughtfully facilitated his task by shutting up his shop (on March 22nd), and taking possession of the key. So all that M. Kervelli had to do, or, indeed, could do, was to put the matter in the hands of an agent and take his departure. Two gendarmes whose travelling expenses, as well as the expenses of his escort from St. Peters burgh, he was forced to pay - saw him to the frontier, and he arrived safely in Paris, where he told his story, and gave our informant leave to make whatever use of it he might think fit. M. Kervelli has been advised within the last few days of the sale of his stock at about a fourth of its actual cost. The misfortunes of this gentleman are not in themselves very remarkable, nor perhaps of any great public importance. But as an illustration of the ways of the Russian police, and as a proof that the police are the real rulers of the country, the story is interesting and significant. That which M. Kervelli endured has been endured by thousands of Russians quite as free of offence as he is endured by Russians every day with this difference, that they can appeal to no diplomatic agent for help or redress, and that instead of being conducted to the western frontier 66 and set free, they are taken to Siberia and left there for life. According to a despatch from St. Petersburg, cited a few days ago by several English papers, translations of works by Agassiz, Bagehot, Huxley, Lubbock, Louis Blanc, Marx, Mill, Reclus, as well as Sir Charles Lyell's Geology," Adam Smith's "Wealth of Nations," Herbert Spencer's books, and several others, have been excluded by imperial decree from the reading-rooms and public libraries of Russia, and also from all lending libraries. This is likely enough, but as it may possibly be inferred from the statement in question that those institutions abound in Russia, it is as well to mention that there are only two public libraries in the country, those of St. Petersburg and of Moscow. It is highly significant of the reactionary character of the present régime that all the works in question have undergone the ordeal of the censorship, some of them several years ago. The government is evidently determined to persevere in its policy of treating litera│ture and science as enemies, and punishing independence of thought and freedom of speech as the most heinous of crimes. From St. James's Gazette. A SMALL-POX CAMP. ON a pleasant slope, situate about three miles from Dartford, lies a large encampment for the reception of convalescent small-pox patients, received from the London hospitals and from the ships which have lately been converted into floating hospitals. As one approaches, a huge white flag with a red cross on it immedi ately fixes the eye, and reveals to the be. holder the purpose of this immense spread of canvas. That banner is the Geneva Cross. Far and wide are numbers of tents, interspersed here and there with wooden huts. They have much the appearance of a military camp, with some small tents set apart for the officers; but the tents are in reality marquees capable of holding twenty beds each. At the commencement of the road leading up, a prominent sign board warns one not to pass. Indeed, no one could pass; for a commissionaire stand on guard, and, until the return message comes from headquarters that the papers are all correct, one must remain prisoner in a hut. From here a winding carriage-road leads to a long central footway constructed after the fashion of a railway platform, and at regular inter after when the time comes for their de parture. Patients are brought in regular ambulances to the camp, sometimes one or two alone, and at other times as many as twenty or thirty together. Here the doctor receives them, and, having made a preliminary examination of the cases, orders their removal to the infirmaries or tents, so that they may be subjected to special or general treatment. The infirm size as the tents, but containing only sixteen beds each; so that each inmate has extra room, the constant attendance of a nurse, and many more visits daily from the doctor. Here may be seen some of those cases where the terrible ravages of the disease have left the poor sufferers blind. Sometimes members of the same family fail to recognize each other on meetingso greatly can small-pox alter the features and the expression. vals from this rise stout posts, each bear- | receive their discharge from the medical ing a modern street-lamp; for although officer. But a few highly appreciate the miles from a town, and cut off from the complete change, and have to be sought outside world, gas is at hand, brought through iron mains from the Asylum for Imbeciles which lies at the top of a neighboring hill. And from that asylum runs a fine wire, first to one division of the camp and then to the other, so that three stations are brought into direct communition by the telephone. So here are gas and electricity in a camp where daily papers are scarce and generally old. On either side of this footwalk, which is hon-aries are wooden structures about the same ored by the name of High Street, are pitched the principal tents in two parallel lines. Each tent is numbered, and gives sleeping accommodation to twenty patients ten on either side. And here, under canvas, live between eleven and twelve hundred people, forming a world by themselves, cut off by a cordon of sentries from all outsiders, and further isolated by a double row of iron railings one hundred and fifty feet apart. No one can communicate with the outer world except through the medium of the post-office, where all letters are first subject to disinfection. Although of the vast number in the camp over one thousand are patients passing through all stages of convalescence, quiet and peace reign supreme everywhere. There is no bustle, no noise, no turmoil, no screeching of railway whistles; but life glides smoothly along, apparently with all anxiety and care forgot ten for here the patients seem subdued by the peace of nature, the pure air, the sunshine, and the bracing Kentish breezes. The camp has two main divisions, which are separated by a slight rise of ground: on one side are male patients, and on the other female. Beyond the tents, and high up among the remains of fruit trees and bordering on a wood, may be seen vast numbers of women and children reclining, sitting on seats, or lying on the grass; and open to their view are some miles of the prettiest scenery in the county of Kent. In the daytime all really convalescent patients pass their time here or in recreation tents adjoining, where all kinds of games and amusements are at their disposal. Only at meal times do they descend to large marquees to be served with good and wholsome food and liberally supplied with lemonade or, if they prefer it, beer. They have no thought of the vast system that is in work to clothe, feed, and house such a multitude. Most are eager to return to the abodes they call their homes, and are always anxious to A constant stream of human beings passes through the establishment, which is on such a large scale that brothers may remain days together within a few hundred yards of each other and not know it. During the recent violent epidemic of small-pox, many of the milder cases which would otherwise have been kept in a London hospital were transferred to the Da renth Camp, and here they are placed in the infirmaries. Strict discipline is maintained in the encampment. At nine o'clock in the evening a sergeant commissionaire blows a shrill whistle, when all patients must retire to their tents to bed. The canvas door is then closed, and, save for the periodical visit of the night nurse, nothing disturbs them till morning. By half past seven all patients must quit the tents. At stated intervals those who are in a fit condition to return home are collected and undergo a process of disinfec tion. The patient enters a hut, and divests himself of the clothes he is wearing; then passes on to the bath, and after emerging from it is provided with new linen and clothes throughout. When ready he retires from the other side of the hut by another door. He is then handed a certificate, stating his freedom from infection, and proceeds to mount a threehorse omnibus which is in waiting. This omnibus receives its freight at some distance from the iron barricade, on the inner side of which a vast concourse of the patients collects to wish good-bye to their late companions. Whilst the coachman |