battlements, he drew forth and read a missive from William the Testy, protesting against the usurpation of Bearn Island, and ordering the garrison to quit the premises bag and baggage, on pain of his vengeance.

to the nose and the fingers in the air is apt to
be the reply of the Helderbergers, whenever
called upon for any long arrears of rent.
This is not only very diverting humor, but
it is especially in Irving's most success-
ful and favorite vein; and for the rest,
more genial ridicule has seldom been cast
upon the elaborations of diplomacy and
the dunderheadedness of politicians. It
makes the reader smile, but it also makes
him think; and the result of his reflec-
tions tends to clear his mind of cobwebs,
without at the same time suggesting any-
thing cynical. Until the era of human
perfectibility arrives, humor of this de-
scription will retain its vogue; for each
one of us is sufficiently conscious of im-
perfection in himself to enjoy beholding
the exposure of it in some one else; and
no more agreeable method of exposure
could be devised-for good-natured peo-
ple, at least - than this of making scape-
goats of imaginary Dutch-American
burgomasters. That Washington Irving
intention of being, even humor-
for a
ously, edifying, is not, of course,
moment to be supposed; he was simply
bent upon amusing himself, and relieving
a little of his gentle irritation against so-
cial inanities, but it is to our advantage
that his genius enabled him to bring the
world into pleased sympathy with his per-
sonal whim.

had any

In reply, the Wacht-Meester applied the thumb of his right hand to the end of his nose, and the thumb of his left hand to the little finger of his right, and spreading each hand like a fan, made an aerial flourish with his fingers. Antony van Corlear was sorely perplexed to understand this sign, which seemed to him somewhat mysterious and Masonic. He persuaded himself, however, that it was some shorthand sign or symbol, current in diplomacy, which, though unintelligible to a new diplomat like himself, would speak volumes to the experienced intellect of William the Testy. Considering his embassy, therefore, at an end, he sounded his trumpet with great complacency, and set sail on his return down the river, every now and then practising this mysterious sign of the Wacht-Meester, to keep it accurately in mind. Arrived at Nieuw Amsterdam, he made a faithful report of his embassy to the governor, accompanied by a manual exhibition of the response of Nicholas Koorn. The governor was equally perplexed with his embassy. He was deeply versed in the mysteries of Freemasonry, in Egyptian hieroglyphics, and the mystic symbols of the obelisks, but none furnished a key to the reply of Nicholas Koorn. He called a meeting of the council. Antony van Corlear stood forth in the midst, and gave a faithful facsimile of the famous sign. Having a nose of unusual dimensions, it was as if the reply had been put in capitals; but all in vain, the worthy burgomasters were equally perplexed with the governor. Each one put his thumb to the end of his nose, spread his fingers like a fan, imitated the motion of Antony van CorTHE painting of houses in oil-paint at lear, and then smoked in dubious silence. all is a modern abomination, which is of Several times was Antony obliged to stand course only tolerated by anybody with forth like a fugleman and repeat the sign, and pretensions to taste because, while such each time a circle of nasal weathercocks houses are standing, there is no help for might be seen in the council-chamber. The it. Whether houses should be colored in matter got abroad, and Antony van Corlear was stopped at every corner to repeat the sig fresco or distemper-is a question; the whether in oil or any way whatever nal to a knot of anxious newsmongers, each of Italians settled it in their own way, with whom departed with his thumb to his nose and his fingers in the air, to carry the story their free and generous impulses towards home to his family. For several days all busi- beauty, by staining the stuccoes of their ness was neglected at Nieuw Amsterdam; square stone palaces with dull red, warm nothing was to be seen but knots of politicians rose, and yellow. Never with a cold with their thumbs to their noses. In the mean color, observe. Nature shows us to which time, the fierce feud between William the her taste inclines - the warm tints or the Testy and Killian van Rensellaer gradually cold- and he is a wise colorist who takes cooled off, like many other war questions, in this hint from nature. The Italian palprolonged delays of diplomacy. But we are told that the bully-boys of the Helderberg, aces, then, are (or were, for the change of who served under Nicholas Koorn, the Wacht late years is complete) tinted in mellow Meester, carried back to their mountains the colors - the colors of sunshine and of hieroglyphic sign which so sorely puzzled An- sunset, and precisely the colors which tony van Corlear and the sages of the Man- time treats with felicitous effect, softenhattoes; so that to the present day, the thumbing them until they look more like the

From The Magazine of Art.

OUTER COLORING OF HOUSES.

traces of old sunshine than the deliberate | sweet and sunny tendency to green has work of man. In truth, we are inclined in many cases revealed a true artist's eye to doubt whether our taste could well and taste. But even supposing a good spare that touch of time; a brand-new blue might be caught, this color with all Genoese house, done in red and yellow, its varieties is out of place in housemight seem a little violent. The stucco painting. As already stated, the older underlying this distemper painting has Italians never used it, while the moderns also a happy way of crumbling somewhat employ a horrible tint in perfectly painful with age, so that unevenness of surface combination with the hue of the sky. and breaks in the color add to the charm But badly as blue goes with a serene sky, of these time-worn tints. The contem- it accords still worse with the commoner porary Italian, however, being a creature greys of London; therefore we dismiss wholly without the instinct of art, though it altogether. We also dismiss the heavy having such perfect models before his dark grey which has been used in several eyes, paints his fantastic villas with a cold instances on both sides of the park, as a grey, a dark hot chocolate, and a terrible needless addition to the burden of existviolet-blue by preference. Would these ence in an age which asks itself whether hints from the south avail us here in Lon- life is worth living, for this color is intoldon? There are three important differ- erably dismal. We must also condemn ences between the circumstances of Italy for the same reason the black which has and of our metropolis which make the been tried in the neighborhood of Brompquestion a doubtful one. These are, the ton; neither is the red of Herbert House, climate proper, the local smoke, and the Belgrave Square, so largely imitated, prelamentable necessity for oil-paint. In cisely felicitous in effect. And yet it is the first place the effects of climate and to red that we must turn for the principal smoke combined are such that whatever solution of our difficulty. How happy is color is put upon any surface in the open the effect of the red-brick houses which air must be from year to year renewed. are springing up in all directions, and There is no beauty in the touch of time promise to be soon numerous enough to when his finger is corrosive with damp leaven the mass of London mud-color, all and grimy with soot. The charms of who have an artistic sense must feel. time are therefore out of the question, They warm up the very chills of a Noand, as we have said, the effect of rose-vember sky, they form strong but pleasant colors and yellows without that charm is contrast with the trees in summer, and doubtful. Besides, even supposing that combine really well with the greys and such hues could be preserved, which is browns of winter boughs, pavements, and impossible, their glow, under our dull mud; there is no sky with which they skies, would not be suggestive of old can form discords; they suggest warmth sunshine. For us, then, this is a neces- and charming furniture within; and if sity-a color which will look well when uniform paint could give the same effect new; for we are condemned to newness. as the dull, broken surface of brick, we We must also choose a color which is should recommend that houses which are adapted to the smooth, characterless sur- unfortunate enough to be dependent upon face of oil-paint, and which will not de- paint should imitate the tint, though of pend upon the chances of broken stucco, course not the appearance, of honest red upon the almost imperceptible lights and brick. The color in oil-paint must, howshadows of an old Italian wall, for its ever, be lighter, duller, less positive, and tone; to fulfil this requirement we must more mixed-the dire necessity of condecide for a color which is in itself min- stant newness and the heavy unctuousgled and full of tone. It is easier to de-ness of surface being borne in mind. In cide what is not, than what is, a fitting hue for the painting of London houses. A glance at what has already been done helps us as to what we should avoid. So far as we have observed, no kind of blue has been attempted; and this is well. Light blue is the shibboleth of colorists; and it is quite a fatal color to put into the house-painter's hands. Artists who might otherwise be considered fair colorists have condemned themselves by the violent inclination of their blues, while a

no case and under no possible circumstances should a house be painted red without the relief of cream-white dressings to the doors and windows. The effect of a block of London houses colored with the right red and the right white would be as excellent as is consistent with inartistic architecture; and if the inhabitants would once for all exchange every sash-window in the block for French casements, large or small paned, and have their doors painted a

stand what the more sensitive endure. Again and finally, therefore, let us recommend a little humility, a little self-diffidence to all those (like the owners of painted houses) whose private tastes are matters of interest to the public.

good dull dark green (composed of black | to eat something with a revolting taste. and white and yellow without any blue It is only by this comparison that those whatever), with brass appointments, they who are callous in eye and ear can underwould have dwellings as good as adverse circumstances allow. Another block might be painted in a warm, creamy yellow, much toned down in the mixing by means of white and grey, yet decided enough to be relieved with warm white lintels. Next, an experiment might be tried with sage-green. Why should the color which is so pleasant to live with indoors not help to make our streets agreeable? Much taste, however, or, failing that, much docility under advice, is necessary in the choice of sage-green; for a good sage-green is at least a tertiary color, and of course the more compound the tint, the more room for diversities. Fol. lowing our rule, we would have no cold greens; the color should at once be warm and greyish; as in the other cases, we would not use it in one mass, but break it slightly with cream-white lintels, and the doors should decidedly be black with brass appointments.

Beyond these three colors, the modified red, the yellow, and the sage-green, we have nothing to recommend. The curious stripes, the untoward combinations which have astonished, the ponderous dark reds which have oppressed, and the livid greys and blacks which have depressed us, are all badly chosen. It cannot be too often insisted on that there must not be too much private judgment and private caprice in the matter of colored houses. If the fashion for external coloring is to become general, it will assume a character of civic interest. A householder may do what he likes with his drawing-room and his staircase; if the one is papered with glazed white and gold, and the other distempered with a ghastly blue and dadoed with chocolate, the offence is limited to the small circle of the friends of the house; but the exterior of his habitation forms a part of the scenery of the world, and he has no right to make (as a few eccentric private individuals have the power to make) the metropolis of his country ridiculous, nor to inflict discords upon sensitive eyes. Much liberty means much tyranny. Just as we are compelled to hear painful sounds, incorrect basses to popular airs, and music out of tune, so also are we forced to see sights which hurt us by their ugliness. These are things we cannot escape. Yet they cause us to the full as much petty annoyance as though a stranger should waylay us and force us

From The Spectator.

WHAT TO LOOK FOR IN A HOLIDAY.

WHAT one wants mainly in a holiday is, in the strictest sense of the word, recreation, that is, not mere amusement, but anything whatever that really creates anew the energies exhausted by the regular work of the year. There are some men who get this recreation in ways which seem to almost all but themselves anything but agreeable; but even such dismal methods must be, we fancy, agreeable to them, if they really do restore the mind and body to its full working power, for it is hardly possible that anything should fail to be agreeable, in the end at all events, which has that effect. At the same time, the agreeableness of a holiday is very far from a good measure of its usefulness, for it must be remembered that it is by no means the best proof that a holiday is needed when it is very much enjoyed. It is often, indeed, a sign that a young man wants a holiday when he eagerly desires it, for that is usually the result with the young of getting so overdone by their work that they are unable to fix their mind completely on it; it is a much graver sign that a middle-aged man wants a holiday when he loses the power to fix his mind on anything except his work, and yet is sensible of a steady sinking of the heart in doing his work. One of the privileges of youth is the strong warning instinct which renders an occupation extremely repulsive so soon as it has ceased to be adapted to the powers of the worker, and which stirs a strong yearning for change. It is one of the deprivations of men advanced in life that this healthy appetite for the best medicine the mind can take, vanishes, and that it remains easier to go on with the work which is sapping one's elasticity, than to turn away from it in search of a change which, instead of attracting us, only appears in the light of a new burden on the spirit. When the stimulus to do what is best for you ceases, there is but

号

too much reason to fear that the remedy | work he has in hand. Let the historian

itself is losing its efficacy, and that the be reminded of the duty of verifying for
too-long strung bow has lost its power to himself the localities of some distant bat-
rebound. Hence, while we should say to tle-field. Let the artist be encouraged to
anybody that the best holiday for him is study the foreign school which is most
the change most enjoyable by him, so essential to the development of his own
long as it does not put too great a strain powers. Let the politician be persuaded
on the physical powers, we should add to survey the country where he can learn
that that is no answer at all to the very most concerning other solutions of the
class of persons who need a holiday most, problem with which he has to deal. Let
namely, those who cannot contemplate the antiquary betake himself to any acces-
any kind of change without aversion, and sible antiquities on which he has a theory
who, while they feel unequal to their of his own; the architect to the cathedrals
work, feel still more unequal to leaving it and State buildings of other countries;
and attempting the so-called enjoyments while the conchologist, geologist, and nat-
which are held out to them as a substitute uralist have of course no need of such
for work. So long as there is a healthy extraneous attractions, having permanent
desire for something which promises the sources of curiosity always at work to
needful change of stimulus, it is easy persuade them to visit new scenes. And
enough, even with but narrow means, to even the least of a specialist among all
choose the kind of holiday which will head-workers may interest himself better,
come nearest to gratifying that desire. we believe, by setting himself the task of
But when the desire itself has utterly verifying the scenery of one of his favorite
failed, then even the largest means will novels, -one of Sir Walter Scott's many
be of comparatively little use in furnish-graphic stories, or one of Fielding's, or
ing what is needed, and yet this is just Thackeray's, or Dickens's, or even of
the case where the need is greatest. Miss Austen's or Mrs. Gaskell's, than
by going away from work without any
object at all in which he can feel or feign
a definite interest. For after all, it is not
so much the real activity of the motive
you accept for such a purpose as this, as
the definiteness and aspect of method
which it gives to your plans, which is the
useful thing. The difficulty with a man
who feels that he could go on in the old
groove, but that he is lost if he sets him-
self merely to try hap-hazard change for
which he has no desire, is this,
long as his object is mere amusement,
there is nothing which he expects to find
amusing, so that nothing shapes itself to
his vacant imagination; and if he finds
his first effort a failure, he is in danger of
being more hurt by his holiday than prof-
ited. But with any sort of definitely
shaped plan before him, however artifi-
cial at first the thread of interest may be,
there is something definite which, through
the mere influence of method become
habitual on his mind, draws him on, till
at last he either finds a real pleasure in
its execution, or else, perhaps, in some-
thing else quite different from his first
object, which it has, nevertheless, sug-
gested to him. For a greatly overworked
man, nothing is more likely to fail than
the mere chance pursuit of pleasure. But
any plan which involves something of a.
method, something that has to be regu-
larly followed out, almost as if it were the
appointed task of working-days, lends a

But even in this case, if you dwell not so much on the hope of amusing a man who has not the belief left in amusement which is necessary to its having any amusing effect, as on the hope of re-creating his interest in his work, the thing may often be successfully managed without putting the blank prospect of repulsive enjoyments, if we may be excused the paradox, too glaringly before the mind. What a man in this condition of overwork requires is to be tempted into change under the disguise, if necessary, of fitting himself to do some part of his work better. Mr. Pickwick's cab-horse would, it was said, have dropped if he had been taken out of the shafts. It was the habit of being in the shafts which kept him up to his work. It is not unfrequently the same with an overworked man. He might become totally apathetic if he thought he had no work to do, and might sink into a sort of indifference which is just the very worst thing for him. But persuade him that the very work which has overdone him requires him to vary his occupation, to go somewhere and see something entirely new, and yet something new which will interfere with the continuance of the overwork, and you may, succeed in just relaxing the over-stretched string gradually enough to help it to recover its tone. Let the literary man be sent on a mission to do something, not too laborious, which he thinks of the first importance to the

- that so

certain mild tonic of its own to the otherwise indifferent will, which starts it fairly on a way in which it is very likely to find or pick up a real interest.

From Land and Water.

THE CULTIVATION OF FORESTS.

we are certain that for an exhausted mind this is not the most fitting kind of spiritual restoration. The "re-creation" of the spirit of trust is not to be secured To all who have the renewal of energy by the mere punctual exercise of it in the for their object, it is clear enough at least most approved formulas. It must come that no needless risk should be run of from a true experience of the buoyancy taking more out of oneself in holiday- of the power on which your own mind making than the same or a much longer leans; and however true it may be that time of steady labor would take out of in the strength of solemn social traditions, oneself. Yet many an Alpine climber and with the help of the language that actually does spend more nervous strength has been attuned by centuries of sufferon his holiday than all the year is likely ing and hope, that buoyancy is in the to restore. Of course, we are not speak-general way most amply realized, yet it is ing of mere physical fatigue, which, ex- certain that after periods of exhaustion, cept under very extraordinary conditions, other and less apparently formal attitudes is often advantageous rather than other- of mind are needful to re-create the wise to the full restoration of nervous jaded life even of religious devotion. tone, but of the moral excitement of serious danger and anxiety for others which accompanies the more perilous expeditions. And again, if a holiday is to be spent in true recreation of the energies exhausted in the year's work, the opportunity should be taken not only to get a physical stimulus to the general health, not only to get some sort of exercise for the mental interests kept in abeyance in the ordinary field of labor, but also to get a fresh store of that trust in a source of light outside us which the weariness of continuous labor is so apt to exhaust, simply because it leaves us in ourselves weak and dry. We believe that a great many holidays are deprived of their value by being so exhaustively mapped out as to leave no chance of true spiritual rest, no freedom from the sense of absolute engagements to be here or there at certain times and seasons, no interval that is not parcelled away into journeyings, or excursions, or sights, or even fixed spiritual exercises in which you take a given part that leaves little room for true rest, - because true rest does not mean hectic flushes of emotion, or fits and starts of aspiration, or abrupt resolves to do better in the future than you have done in the past, but rather the escape from all these struggles within your life, and from the profound sense of nothingness which they are apt to produce, into the strength of perfect acquiescence in a divine purpose and repose on the everlasting will. One great part of the weariness of life is the necessary punctuality and punctiliousness of its engagements. There are people who say, with the Quakers, that even in worship, the multiplicity of observances, the kneelings and risings, the recitations and chauntings, make a transaction of worship, instead of a rest. And

THE cultivation of forest trees is beginning to attract the attention of the farmers on the Pacific coast. They are being led to understand that there are profits to be derived from the cultivation of good forest trees, in the effect exercised on the climate lessening the probabilities of drought and decreasing the expenses of irrigation. This has also been the subject of much attention in the Eastern States, particularly in the more heavily populated ones, where lands once covered with fine trees have been literally laid bare. On taking up a farm the first thought and act of the farmer was to cut down every tree growing on it; and he never seemed quite happy until the last one had fallen. In travelling through Canada I observed that the same erroneous idea prevailed, but possibly to a less extent. The governing idea in the mind of the farmer was, no doubt, to make every square inch of his land productive. The results of late years have proved to them how great was the mistake they made, one that has told very materially against the profits of the farm. They now see that this "clearing away" has also pretty well "cleared" away the climate in reducing the number of rainy days and having a bad effect on the crops. A writer on the subject very correctly says, "Every foreign scientific man who comes to this country is impressed with the great waste of forest. Accustomed as Europeans are to the culture of woodland, the reckless methods of American farmers strike them with astonishment.

The