« VorigeDoorgaan »
“Where in the world have you been?” with their managers, being generally apt asked Madame de Staël.
to regard them as their natural enemies. “Madame," he replied with the greatest Few, however, have carried their animoscalm,“ I have been taking my customary ity farther than Arnal. During one of his walk."
innumerable lawsuits with the director of “ You must have fallen into the water,” the Vaudeville, he deemed it expedient to she said, " for your feet are positively propitiate his judge by a preliminary visit, soaked.”
and lost no time in soliciting an audience “Only the dew, madame, I assure you. of the president of the tribunal. I never once left the broad alley by the “Monsieur," was the unexpected reply mill.”
of the porter, “he died last night.” “That explains the state you are in,” “Oh,” said Arnal, too deeply intent on exclaimed Corinne; "is it possible you his own affairs to realize the other's mean. never perceived that the water had been ing, “that does not signify in the least, I turned into that very alley, and that you have only one word to say to him !” have been walking in it up to your ankles Perhaps, after all, the individual most for the last two hours ?"
notoriously subject to this infirmity was Munster, Bishop of Copenhagen, was the country manager, Thornton, of whom noted for his absence of mind, an infirmity more instances of chronic absence of which increased as he advanced in years. mind have been related than would fill a He was accustomed, whenever his duties volume. The following, which we believe summoned him from home, to hang a to be authentic, has never to our knowlplacard on his door, announcing, for the edge appeared in print. Thornton was benefit of any chance visitor, that he staying with his wife at Brighton, whether would return at a certain hour. One day, for business or pleasure is not recorded; being obliged to attend to some important and, according to his usual custom, started business in the town, he affixed the usual one morning for a stroll on the beach benotice, and, his errand accomplished, came fore breakfast. It was nearly high tide, home, and ascended the stairs leading to and in the course of bis walk the brighthis modest apartment. On arriving op- ness of a pebble just washed by the sea posite his door, he glanced mechanically struck his eye, and he took it up in order at the placard, and, entirely unconscious to examine it more closely. Presently it of his own identity, concluded that he was occurred to him that it was time to retoo early, and waited outside until the turn to the Old Ship, where the couple clock struck, when he suddenly recol. lodged; and, looking at his watch, he dis. lected who and where he was, and let covered it was almost nine o'clock, the himself in.
hour appointed for the morning meal. This reminds one of General de La Putting the pebble carefully in his pocket, borde, an ex-aide-de-camp of Louis Phi- he mechanically tossed his watch into the lippe, who, after making his bow at a water, and reached home just as the ministerial soirée, was so absorbed by his shrimps and fried bacon were placed on own reflections on leaving, that, while still the table. Their departure having been half-way through a long suite of rooms previously fixed for that day, Mrs. Thorn. communicating with each other, he fan- ton, after doing ample justice to the daincied that he had already reached the ties provided, and not wishing to be late porter's lodge, and, to the astonishment for the coach, turned to her husband, and of all present and his own confusion, ex- enquired what time it was; whereupon claimed in a sonorous voice, “Cordon, the manager, extracting the pebble from s'il vous plait!”
his pocket, began to stroke his nose (his Châteaubriand relates in his memoirs invariable habit when in great perplexity), that his wife, who had organized for char. and staring at the stone, feli to wondering itable purposes a sale of chocolate manu. how it came there. factured under her own personal super- “What are you looking at, Mr. Thornintendence, was so entirely devoted to her ton?” asked his astonished wife. “And philanthropic project that she thought of pray, where is your watch?" nothing else; and on more than one occa- My dear,” he replied with a bewildered sion so far forgot herself as, instead of air, “ I haven't the least idea, unless” subscribing her letters “Vicomtesse de here a fresh inspection of the pebble apChâteaubriand," to sign them Vicomtesse peared to suggest some faint remembrance “ de Chocolat."
of the substitution " unless it is at the French actors are rarely on good terms | bottom of the sea !”
From The Saturday Review. uous; but it would be a mistake to supWHITSUNTIDE AT HOME AND ABROAD.
pose that more æsthetic things are peg. Even in these days of conquests by the lected. Between the early dinner and the Blue Ribbon crusaders, there are only late supper these tables are deserted, save too many honest Britons who confound by casual strangers from a distance droprecreation with dissipation, or something ping in for chance refreshment or by a like it; and who think they have done no few belated veterans snoring peacefully
justice to so solemn an oc sion as behind their pipes. And the seeming a holiday if they do not carry home a solitude and silence of the surrounding headache for the morrow. Our country woods are absolutely deceptive. The Gerpeople might learn sundry useful lessons mans are by no means a noisy people; in that respect from foreigners, and espe- and you may suspect nothing of the many cially from the Germans. We cannot hon- straggling parties till you almost stumble estly assert that the Germans are abste. upon them. But there are sure to be cer. mious or even moderate in the use of tain favorite resorts, either consecrated by either beer or tobacco, or even of solid some romantic mediæval legend or recomfood, for the matter of that; but as the mended by natural charms. And at these, beer, at all events, is sound and light, they which are of course enlivened by the permay indulge in it liberally without dangerennial beer-taps and coffee-kettles, social of 'excess. The Germans, at least, are groups are assembled in an amicable insincere admirers of scenery, though till of terchange of civilities. On the way to late years they were very little addicted them you pass respectable heads of to travel. All the more on that account houses, in flowing black frock-coats, with do they love to make the most of their im- bloated umbrellas, dragging up the steep mediate neighborhoods at the seasons woodland paths, laboriously towing their when long custom authorizes them to better halves along, who lang an embarleave their business. And where can full. rassing weight on their arms. And in blown spring be more thoroughly enjoy- Germany there always seems to be a suable than in the romantic Rhineland, then perfluity of spinsters of most uncertain untroubled by tourists; in the spirit- age, in mushroom hats and scanty pettihaunted Harts, in the absurdly.named but coats, who might really bave sat as the charming Saxon Switzerland, or in such originals of those caricatures of the Enforests as those of Thuringia or Baden? glish “meeses " which we wonder at in At Whitsuntide the cities and the towns the windows of the Rue de Rivoli. Else. pour their populations into the country. where, in soine sylvan nook or in the seThe steamboats and the special tourist cluded depths of some rocky ravine, we trains are swamped in good-humored come upon family parties enveloped in mobs; from the biggest hotel down to the smoke-clouds raised by the men, while smallest Gasthaus, every corner is filled to the ladies are contentedly chatting and overflowing: The air in the immediate knitting. The young women are more precincts of these establishments is redo- closely looked after than with us, so, unIent of sausages, Sauerkrat, and tobacco; less in case of actual and imminent enand the feats performed with the knives gagement, detached couples are seldom to and forks of the competing customers are be surprised. But should you prolong astounding. But digestions generally ap- your walk, as you may probably be tempt. pear to be well up to their work, and dysed to do, you will come upon long-haired pepsia, at all events, does not vent itself youths with their great green botanical in visible ill-temper. Even when actually or entomological cases, eagerly hunting eating and drinking the excursionists live after science in her most seductive resorts. as much as possible unter freien Himmel; And when all these worthy folks go home for all the restaurants, like the idol-sanc- after their holiday, it can hardly have left tuaries in ancient Palestine, stand in any but pleasant memories behind; for groves, and any number of small round although we might fancy they had over. tables are spread out in the open air. smoked and over-eaten themselves had
rhaps that material side of the German they been En ish, surely they ought to holiday-making may be the most conspic-know their own constitutions best.
Fifth Series, Volume XLII.
No. 2035.-June 23, 1883.
CONTENTS. I. Cairo: THE OLD IN THE New, .
Contemporary Review, . II. THE TREASURE OF FRANCHARD,
Longman's Magazine, III. CARLYLE IN SOCIETY AND AT HOME, Fortnightly Review, IV. FLEURETTE,
Blackwood's Magazine, V. TRADES’-GUILDS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, All The Year Round, VI. THE PORTRAIT ART OF THE RENAISSANCE, Cornhill Magazine, VII. MUSIC AS OCCUPATION, .
Spectator, VIII. WILLIAM CHAMBERS,
Spectator, IX. THE CORONATION OF THE CZAR, .
764 · 766
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. For Eight Dollars, remitted directly to the Publishers, the Living Age will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage.
Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co.
Single Numbers of The Living AGE, 18 cents
A MAY SONG,
IN THE WOOD.
WHEN thou art weary, go into the fields,
Nor scorn to feel a child's joy to behold The sea is blue, and the sky is blue, The bowing buttercups bend in the breeze, The woods are green, and the fields are green, Dashing the green with gold. The golden sun and the silvery sheen, They call and call for you.
Stand by the stile, within the green cornfields, The waves on the shore are playing, playing, When early on some iron-gray clouded morn The flowers in the breeze are swaying, swaying, The wind sweeps o'er the land, and listen to The whole wide world is out a-Maying
The rustling of the corn.
And there is music, music rarely sweet,
From every hedge in early summer-time; Music is here and music is there,
Each little bird seems helping all he can
To ring a summer-chime.
mmer-time, The sun with the clouds is playing, playing,
Those happy birds, with voices full of cheer! And life and love are gone a-Maying
The chaffinch in his bowery elm all day
Sings, “ 'Tis the sweet o' the year !”
The bold blackbird, high up among the boughs, The song of the sea is not for me,
Where leaves grow thickest, whistles clear Nor golden bowers of cowslip flowers,
and strong; Nor vision bright of sunbeam showers; The lark up-struggles thro' the dazzling air No fresh green spring I see,
In ecstasy of song.
I know a wood where tangled sunbeams lie, Yet my world, too, is gone a-Maying
Caught in the branıbles; there the grasses To-day, to-day.
grow Let me stay! let me stay!
Untrampled, and at noon life seems to pause, There is music here, as everywhere;
And sleepy airs breathe slow.
The honeysuckle twines about the briar;
The ivy and the mantling mosses climb Like meadow flowers in breezes swaying, Over old trees, and make the wrinkled boles All radiant hopes are round me playing,
Fairer than in their prime;
The topmost branches hardly stir
Seems near; and round the honeysuckle flits
One yellow butterfly.
Yet is not silence in the wood the birds IDLE CHARON.
Are sweetly piping all within the cover; The shores of Styx are lone forevermore,
Two thrushes, each one side an open space, And not one shadowy form upon the steep
Sing all their old songs over. Looms through the dusk, far as the eye can sweep,
The nightingale sings now and then, as tho' To call the ferry over as of yore;
She thought her song too sweet for daylight But tintless rushes all about the shore
ears; Have hemmed the old boat in, where, locked Bright dragon-flies, with wiry wings, dart swift in sleep,
Between the tall grass-spears. Hoar-bearded Charon lies; while pale weeds creep
Inland, at eve, the freshening twilight-breeze With tightening grasp all round the unused oar.
Fills out the spreading boughs of every tree, For in the world of life strange rumors run
And makes a sound inwthe close-clustered elins That now the soul departs not with the
Like to a far-off sea. breath, Bụt that the body and the soul are one ; There, while we listen, pacing slow to hear, And in the loved one's mouth, now, after We find a thought that links the earth with death,
heaven, The widow puts no obol, nor the son,
Remembering once the voice of God did sound To pay the ferry in the world beneath.
Among the trees at even.
M. A. M. HOPPUS.
BY DR. GEORG EBERS.
From The Contemporary Review. is nothing more left that he can do. And CAIRO: THE OLD IN THE NEW.
to the interlocutors in these tales Cairo was no picture in a dream, no inaccessi. ble island of the blest, no distant Gol
conda, for there is no manner of doubt In the present paper I shall consider that it was in the very Cairo we see, and Cairo as the parent city of Arabic culture, in the time of the Mameluke sultan El. and seek all through it under the modern Ghuri that this treasure of old Moslem for the ancient and the most ancient of tales, which has for centuries circulated all. It is no part of my aim to describe in small gold pieces from hand to hand, the wonderful charm of this remarkable from people to people, was originally colcity. She, the precious diamond in the lected and minted into those very forms handle of the green fan of the Delta, has in which they are at this hour familiar to been celebrated in song and flowing prose all the nations of the earth. God has both by the East and by the West. The granted to the writer of these lines the delightful poet, Beha-ed-dīn Zoher, who favor of sending him into the wide world, lived at the court of Cairo as secretary to and letting him wander over land and the sultan Melik-eç Cālech, a grand- ocean, and see many towns and countries; nephew of Saladin's, is never weary of but when he now travels backward in celebrating in animated verses the pic. thought, and sweeps over the whole realm turesqueness of the place, the power of of recollection lying behind him, he disher princes, the beauty of her women, covers no city on the face of the earth the charming mildness of her nights, that seems to him more charming than which brought soft dreams to the heart of Cairo. the poet when he was alone, and which The tourist who visits the place, withhe had often passed happily right on till out previous preparation, under the guidmorning in garden parties, Nile trips, ance of a tour-contractor, is as unable to and drinking-bouts with bands of merry escape its charm as the scholar who is friends. In the “ Thousand and One familiar with every phase of its developNights," many a dwelling-place of mortal ment and with every movement of its life. men is invested, by the transfiguring The artist finds himself embarrassed with power of the imagination of the narrator, the abundance of the materials and the with an inconceivable and more than richness of the colors which surround earthly glory, but none of all these pearls him, and for the musing dreamer, the shines with a purer water or is counted looker-on at the play of life, there is no rarer and more beautiful than Cairo. The more favorable spot than this. To open oldest of the interlocutors — i.e., the one the eyes means here to receive new imwho had seen most and whose judgment pressions, to look about is to learn, and is of most value — speaks in these enthusi- stimulated by the abundance of picturastic words: “He who has not seen Cairo esque forms and scenes, even the most has not seen the world. Its earth is gold, indolent feels himself compelled to be its women are bewitching, and its Nile always viewing things. For the investi. is a wonder.” On the following night gator, who is permitted to touch with his Scheherezade praises the charms of the band the thing he has brought with him city of the pyramids in these terms: “As to the Nile as a mental possession, other compared with a sight of this city, what enjoyments still are always in store in is the joy of setting eyes on your beloved! | Cairo. We children of northern cities He who has seen it will confess that there would be repaid by a journey to the Nile, exists for the eye no higher enjoyment, were it by nothing else than breathing on and when one remembers the night on a clear winter morning the pure spicy air which the Nile comes to its height, he of the desert, or seeing from the citadel gives back the winecup to the bearer full, on a fine evening the sun go down behind and makes water flow up to its source the pyramids, and the cupolas and minaagain.” That is as much as to say, there I rets of the town glittering in airy robes