G. B. SHAW: AN AMERICAN APPRECIATION. MR. ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, in the North American Review, writes up Mr. Shaw to the top of his most eulogistic bent. He says: "Mr. Shaw, it seems to me, is the most versatile and cosmopolitan genius in the drama of ideas that Great Britain has yet produced." Mr. Shaw, however, is himself his own greatest enemy. But he does not, says his critic, appeal to us primarily as a dramatist. "His fundamental claim to our attention consists in his effort towards the destruction of false ideals and of the illusions that beset the soul of man." His prime

characteristic as a propagandist is found in his assertion that the quintessential function of comedy is the destruction of old-established morals. Mr. Henderson concludes by saying :

No juster or more significant characterisation of this man can be made than that he is a penetrating and astute critic of contemporary civilisation. He is typical of this disquieting century -with its intellectual brilliancy, its ironic nonsense, its flippant humour, its devouring scepticism, its profound social and religious unrest. The relentless thinking, the large perception of the comic, which stamp this man, are interpenetrated with "the ironic consciousness of the twentieth century.' In him rages the dæmonic, half-insensate intuition of a Blake, with his seer's faculty for inverted truism; while the close, detective cleverness of his ironic paradoxes demonstrates him to be a Becque upon whom has fallen the mantle of a Gilbert. In the limning of character, the mordantly revelative strokes of a Hogarth, shaded by the lighter pencil of a Gavarni, pronounce him to be a realist of satiric portraiture. The enticingly audacious impudence of a Robertson, with his mercurial transitions and electric contrasts, is united with the exquisite effrontery of a Whistler, with his devastating jeux d'esprit and the ridentem dicere verum. If he is a Celtic Molière de nos jours, it is a Molière into whom has passed the insouciant spirit of a Wilde. If Bernard Shaw is the Irish Ibsen, it is, as Eduard Bernstein has said, a laughing Ibsen-looking out upon a half-mad world with the riant eyes of a Heine, a Chamfort, or a Sheridan.

The landscape artist must subordinate himself to the elements given him, the climate and the soil, the character of the vegetation, and last, but usually not least, the wishes of his client. The painter and the sculptor may finish their work, and it can at once be judged as a whole, while the person who works with plants has to make up his mind to see the particular shrub he wanted in a special spot perversely die, while for years the shady groves of the future will decorate the scene like feather dusters on broomsticks.

THE EFFECT OF LIGHT.

She insists strongly upon the bold and simple use of large masses of colour and on a careful consideration of the effect of light and shade :

No splendid and complete garden can afford to shut itself out from the high colours, any more than a composer writing an opera would omit all the horns and trombones. In some

places where special effects are sought the gardener may leave out the fanfare of the yellows and scarlets; perhaps his garden will be looked at often from the house or terrace on hot summer

nights, and then he may wish to get the peculiar floating effect of certain white flowers which seem to quiver in the air rather than to grow on stems. Then, too, at dusk the scheme changes again as the yellow of the daylight fades and with it takes the subtler colours, leaving only the whites and some of the yellows to prevail. The elimination of detail at night and the thick quality of the light change the effect and the apparent distance of colours entirely, and give a curiously submerged appearance to the garden.

A DELIGHT TO ALL THE SENSES.

The enjoyment to be obtained from a garden is infinite if only the possessor of it will make the most of his opportunities :

People must not hesitate to make gardens because they fancy the difficulties are too great; it is only by having them, living in them, and never ceasing to notice the changes that are constantly passing over them, the effects that are good and those that are bad, the shadows that come in the wrong places and the superfluity of high lights, that they will learn to see; and not only must they see but they must think. They must notice the different lights and shadows and see how they change the effect; they must remember the plants whose scent begins at dusk and those whose fragrance stops with the light. They must distinguish the flowers that are beautiful by night from those that are beautiful only by day; they must learn to know the sounds of the leaves on different sorts of trees; the rippling and pattering of the poplar, the rustling of the oak-leaves in winter, and the swishing of the evergreens.

In

During the crisis the European press, he writes, never ceased to publish variations on the theme, "A Peaceful Solution of the Conflict." Why did the two countries not go to war? Professor Fahlbeck makes answer: Because the King did not wish it. Sweden the monarch alone decides on war and peace. It is therefore not easy for the people or the Parliament to oppose the definitely expressed will of the King. To go to war contrary to the wishes of the Sovereign, public opinion must be united and strong. In Sweden this was not the case. Nor were those who wanted war with Norway united as to what should happen afterwards. There was no public opinion which clearly wanted an appeal to the ultima ratio of war. King Oscar knew this, and the knowledge of it served to strengthen his own personal opinion. Satisfaction without war was the wish of the people. Nothing could have been more purposeless than a war; there was no great political scheme to justify such an extreme measure.

In conclusion, the writer says the union with Norway was a crutch which prevented Sweden from using her own legs. Without foreign policy, without responsibilities, a nation becomes demoralised. What Sweden lost externally by the union she has regained in inner force.

SOME HISTORICAL GHOSTS.

DR. FRANZ HARTMANN, in the Occult Review for July, relates several instances of historical ghosts which have come under his observation. He was, he says, personally acquainted with the actors in the following story of the lady in black who appeared at the Bavarian Court a fortnight before the death of Queen Thérèse :

The rain was pouring down, rattling at the windows, the thunder was rolling, and lightnings illuminated the room. All at once one of the large doors of the apartment opened, a lady dressed in black entered and posted herself behind the chair of the Queen. King Ludwig and both of his guests saw that lady and exchanged looks of surprise; the Grand Duke arose and went to the ante-room, where he asked the officer in charge : "How could you permit an unknown lady to enter the apartment of their majesties without having her properly announced?"

"Your Highness will excuse me," was the answer; "I have been in attendance here for three hours, and no one has passed through the ante-room except their majesties and the General de la Roche."

The Grand Duke returned to his chair, but the lady in black had disappeared. The Queen Thérèse noticed by his looks that something was taking place, and as she begged to have the matter explained, the Grand Duke told her about the apparition and the answer of the officer. The Queen turned pale and with a trembling voice exclaimed: "This concerns me.

The black lady also made her appearance on the night before the death of King Maximilian, in the following manner :—

At about eleven o'clock that night the officer of the bodyguards in charge made his usual round of inspection at the quarters where the princes and princesses resided. As he came near the rooms of the ladies of the Court, where the Countess Fugger and the Baroness Redwitz slept, he saw a lady dressed in black, and with a black veil covering her head, issuing from one of these rooms and walking slowly along the corridor. Thinking that she was returning from a visit to one of these ladies, the Captain called to her, as she was passing by the only staircase which led to the street door, and told her that the way out was there.

The lady in black paid no attention to him, but continued her way through several apartments. She finally descended the stairs slowly, passed by one of the sentinels and disappeared at the entrance of the chapel. The officer, feeling some suspicion, ran quickly down stairs, calling to the sentinel to stop the stranger. The guard swore that he had seen no one. Next morning the King was dead.

Birds that have Perished.

ALMOST every year sees the final extinction of one or more animal and bird species, Mr. Edward Vivian reminds us in Chambers's Journal for May. Extermination proceeds apace, and out of fourteen varieties of birds found a century ago in the island of St. Thomas in the West Indies, eight are now missing. In Africa the quagga was extinct by about 1865, and several other animals have suffered a like fate there. The islands of the Indian Ocean have suffered by the extirpation of many noteworthy birds.

The

dodo perished in the seventeenth century. The bison has almost disappeared in North America. In the middle of the last century the last known specimen of the auk was killed.

IN PRAISE OF A SPARE DIET. THE enormous success of the spare-living Japanese, the impressions derived by General Booth from their abstemious habits, and the American craze for the simple life, are indications that sooner or later our standard of diet may have to be reduced; if not voluntarily on rational grounds, then by the compulsion of industrial competition between the heavyfeeding and light-feeding races. In the World's Work Mr. Maurice Carberry discourses on the waste of national wealth in food. He tells how he, an active journalist, has lived for thirty years on eightpence a day, and is all the better for it. He started in consequence of infantile paralysis, almost a cripple, at the age of nine. And yet the only headache he has had for many years was when he relapsed into the grosser diet at Continental hotels. The Irish, the Highlander, the Japanese, the Turk, have all wrought prodigies of valour and endurance on their simple vegetable diet. Mr. Carberry reckons that our annual meat bill comes to 150 millions a year, or an average of £17 10s. for a family of five. Add to this the diversion of soil from growing grain to growing cattle. He reckons that the whole arable land of the kingdom would support more than ninety millions of people.

Mr. Carberry wants to put the matter to practical experiment, and asks, Why not experiment on the army? If only under the attraction of reward, surely a hundred soldiers could be induced to try the experiment of a non-flesh diet for three months.

At about seven o'clock the omnibuses began to ply. I had never known before what was indicated by the verb to ply. But I saw at once that it is the only word that properly expresses the peculiar gait of an omnibus, which is a cross between a rolling lurch and a lumbering wobble. Fascination is a mild term for the effect these things had on me.

One omnibus might not so enthrall me. I don't know; I have never seen one omnibus alone. But the procession of them along Piccadilly is the one thing on earth of which I cannot conceive myself becoming tired. Their colour, form, motion and sound all partake of the primeval, and their continuity of effect is eternal.

My Baedeker tells me that the first omnibuses plying in London were 66 'much heavier and clumsier than those now in use." But of course this is a mistake, for they couldn't have been.

I have heard that tucked away among the gay-coloured advertisements that are patchworked all over these moving Mammoth Caves are small and neatly-lettered signs designating destinations. I do not know this. I have never been able to find them. But it doesn't matter. To get to Hampstead Heath you take a Bovril; to go to the City, take Carter's Ink; and to get anywhere in a hurry, jump on a Horlick's Malted Milk. There is also a graceful serpentine legend lettered down the back of each 'bus, but as this usually says Liverpool Street," I think it can't mean much.

66

THE PASSING OF EXETER HALL. THE editor of the Sunday Strand writes a kind of obituary article on Exeter Hall-not on the building, which will endure, and pass to a syndicate bound to use it for no purpose at variance with its past history; but on what has so long been known as "the meetingplace for British philanthropy and religion":

For over seventy-six years Exeter Hall has been the very "hub" of the universe to the orator, the philanthropist, and the reformer. From this centre of all that is best in English life mighty influences have radiated to the ends of the earth. It has been customary to sneer at Exeter Hall-its ideals, aims, and methods-to hold it up to ridicule as the home of sentimentalism and squeamishness. That is folly. It would not be difficult to show that what is derisively called Exeter Hall-ism has been invariably triumphant in every moral and social conflict waged during the last three-quarters of a century, and that because of its efforts and the success which has attended them not a few of the moral and social changes in society at home and abroadsome of them miraculous-are due.

THE HUB OF THE PHILANTHROPIC UNIVERSE.

As the editor of the Sunday Strand points out, many will regret the disappearance of Exeter Hall as uch—to use a clumsy phrase. Since 1881 it has been the world-centre of the Young Men's Christian Association. In Exeter Hall John Gough, the most famous of Temperance orators, made his first speech in England. With Exeter Hall is inseparably associated the Anti-Slavery movement, in connection with which the Prince Consort made his first public appearance in England after his marriage with Queen Victoria, in 1840. For three-quarters of a century have the May meetings been held in Exeter Hall, attended by many famous persons, Wilberforce among them. This is the last year that these meetings will be held there, and the Hall was booked for 550 gatherings. When the "Elijah" was produced in London, in 1847, it was in Exeter Hall that the oratorio was heard, and the Queen and Prince Consort attended. Hundreds of concerts have been given in the building, and the last meeting took place in it on June 29th to commemorate the Tonic Sol-fa Jubilee. Though in 1881 the Hall was adequate to the needs of the Y.M.C.A., it is so no longer. reason for the passing of Exeter Hall.

Hence the

In an article on Unnecessary Noises in the July number of Chambers's Journal the writer suggests as a remedy against noise, or as a means to attaining a minimum of noise, a method adopted in California. Noise and dust, he says, are twin-sisters, and in California oil is scientifically applied to the road to allay the dust nuisance. But as oil is a deadener of sound also, the writer thinks it would be worth while to make the experiment in this country. There is nothing said about the cost of making the oiled surface, and there remains the vibration caused by the passing of heavy vehicles and traction-engines to be cured.

KIPLING AT SCHOOL.

IN the Captain for June appears the first of a series on "Famous Men at School." Rudyard Kipling is the famous man, and the United Services' College at Westward Ho is the school, which of course is described in “ Stalky and Co." Kipling was at this school from 1878 to 1882, and the College Magazine for those years is, with his verses in it, abnormally valuable, £130 having been paid recently for one of the two sets known to exist. Judging from the magazine, says the writer of this article, the boys were not quite the brutal little animals represented by Kipling. Some of Kipling's school poetry is headed "By Rxxxxt Bxxxxxxg," which would hardly please the Browning Society. The subjects, moreover, are not sublime. Much light on Kipling's early days is also thrown by the record of the College Debating Society, numbering the first fifty boys in the school, with some of the housemasters, one of whom was president. Kipling started this society in 1881, and they discussed most serious subjects, Kipling himself once moving a "vote of censure on Mr. Gladstone's Government. This, however, was not the reason for its going out of office. Kipling as a boy, like Kipling as a man, wrote much better than he spoke. Both as a writer and a debater he was much more distinguished than as a scholar. He won but a single prize. Partly because he was short-sighted, he did not excel in athletics in general, though he was an excellent swimmer. He was not popular, says the writer-a verdict that will be confirmed by at least some old Westward Ho-ians. The other boys, it seems, being mostly army officers' sons, rather looked down upon "Gigs," as they nicknamed Kipling, who was the son of a civil servant, and would probably become one himself. Kipling in Stalky and Co." seems to have returned the compliment with compound interest.

The Eminence of Balzac.

THE Atlantic Monthly recently contained a criticism of Balzac by Mr. Henry James-elusive in style. Where Balzac remains unshaken, greater than Zola, than Dumas, than Thackeray, than any other great novelist, if we understand Mr. Henry James aright, isin our feeling that, with all his faults of pedantry, ponderosity, pretentiousness, bad taste and charmless form, his spirit has somehow paid for its knowledge. His subject is again and again the complicated human creature or human condition; and it is with these complications as if he knew them, as Shakespeare knew them, by his charged consciousness, by the history of his soul and the direct exposure of his sensibility.

This is Mr. James's view of the eternal chattering habit of most of our modern novelists; it is also a good example of his peculiar style; it is, moreover, a just criticism of Balzac :

Talk between persons is perhaps, of all the parts of the novelist's plan, the part that Balzac most scrupulously weighed and measured and kept in its place; judging it, I think, though he perhaps even had an undue suspicion of its possible cheapness, as feeling it the thing that can least afford to be cheap,-a precious and supreme resource, the very flower of illustration of the subject, and thereby not to be inconsiderately discounted.

IS CRICKET A FETISH?

IN the Albany Review Mr. Alfred Fellows writes on the cricket fetish. He asks the typical Englishman to consider his national pastime as dispassionately as he would pass a judgment on base-ball or the ancient pila. He grants that cricket keeps young men in the open air and away from the publichouse. It diverts the attention of schoolboys from more dangerous subjects. The man who makes a century enjoys the exercise. The good batsman is made able to take up any other game or sport. The bowler has good exercise; the captain has opportu nity of learning organisation and control, and every man in the field must cultivate courage and concentration. The wicket-keeper must be ready for personal risks. He grants that the enthusiasm of those who play well is explained very easily, but the point of view of the normal or sub-normal player cannot be neglected. He reckons that in the long run the ordinary player is fielding half the time the game occupies, waiting for two-fifths, and at the wicket onetenth only.

IS IT REALLY ENJOYABLE?

Mr. Fellows dares to raise the crucial question, Of the twenty-two men engaged in the game, how many at any given moment are enjoying it? The two batsmen undoubtedly; the bowler most probably; the wicket-keeper will usually rejoice in his art; the captain of the team would not wish to be elsewhere. Thus, there should be a total of five at least of the attacking side who should be enjoying the game, apart from the pleasure they find in fielding. But is fielding, in itself, an entertaining pastime? A plébiscite of cricketers would perhaps feel bound by loyalty to the game to say that fielding was a pleasant occupation. Mr. Fellows cruelly asks if the fielder had to renounce his turn with the bat, would he be content with fielding? At least half of the "out" side are patiently enduring until their own turns shall come. This is scarcely enjoyment worthy of the best game in existence. Of the "in " side none are temporarily out of the game, perhaps for hours. He sums up that at any given moment, apart from the satisfaction of being admired by spectators, two out of the twenty-two are deriving great enjoyment from the game, four or five others moderate enjoyment, and the rest are either enduring it or out of it, which gives an average of about seven of the twenty-two, or less than one in three of the players who are getting an adequate return for the time they are giving. other games at least half the players should be getting moderate enjoyment out of it all the time.

THE TYRANNY OF THE EXPERT.

In

Having exposed the blockishness of the cricket. fetish, Mr. Fellows asks how is it, if cricket has such defects, that it is so popular, and why do schoolmasters, schoolboys, and parents all acquiesce in its compulsion? He answers, the experts in the game, finding that success in it gives a keener zest than in

It is in Andalusia that misery and destitution may be said to be chronic; twenty years ago the wages of agricultural labourers there were only 2 reales or 5d. a day. At the present time they do not reach an average of I peseta or 10d. a day. Not even in the towns of the district have wages increased more than 1 to 1 pesetas, or in English money, Is. 54d.

The working man of Madrid earns on the average 3 pesetas 35 centimos, or 2s. 94d. a day, but of course he does not reckon upon the 365 days of the year as working days: According to official returns for the last year, out of a total of 49,522 workmen, 11,301 only got employment during the whole year; the rest found work only for 128 days.

He adds an interesting table of comparison :PARIS. BRUSSELS. MADRID. Frs. Frs. 1006'00 1017'25

Average wage for the same
period of work
Cost of living
Difference

...

...

...

1445'00 1152 30

Frs.

857-68 1418'00

- 10 75 560.32

By way of contrast, take the profits of capital:The Orcanera Iron Ore Company at Bilbao has been paying dividends of from 50 to 70 per cent., and another powerful concern belonging to the "Diputación de Vizcaya" or County Council has for years been making huge profits, the amount of which cannot be ascertained because they have not even issued a balance-sheet. This may partly account for the fact that the revolutionary party in Spain tends to be anarchist rather than socialist.

Will You Help?

66 WE are all so happy in the cottage; we have plenty of trees and flowers and grass, and plenty to eat." This is a bit of a letter from a group of holidaymaking children out of the backways of the great city -some of them seeing the country for the first time, most of them enjoying the rare luxury of "plenty to eat."

There are many hundreds who never get even one day's revel in the country, many white-faced children and ailing mothers who fade away for lack of fresh air and food and rest. Last year the Browning Settlement helped 500 children and adults to country or seaside holidays, generally of a fortnight's duration; 3,500 more to a day in the country. Will you help to send some one away for a much needed holiday? Ten shillings secures two weeks for a child, I the same for an adult. Walworth is one of the most densely populated areas in the metropolis; the congestion of population is great, as is the poverty of the people. Bis dat qui cito dat to F. HERBERT STEAD, Warden, Browning Settlement, York Street, Walworth, S. E.

TWO MEN WHO CAN FLY,
AND HAVE FLOWN.

MR. HERBERT N. CASSON, in Pearson's, tells the story of the Wright brothers, "the first man-birds in the world." An Ohio Bishop of the name of Wright, in New York, one day found a flying toy that would fly for fifty feet, and took it home to his two boys. They were greatly delighted, and began to imitate it. They became manufacturers of bicycles. Their success in business was very moderate. The death of Lilienthal in 1896 called attention to his message, "whoever would master the air must learn to imitate the bird's dexterity." As a consequence

The story of Lilienthal awoke the bird-spirit which had been slumbering in the Wright brothers. They sent to Berlin for a copy of his book. They were unable to read German, but the pictures and statistics gave them ideas. For two years they studied the German language and the Lilienthal book. Then they began to make theories and flying machines of their own.

Their vacation in 1900 was spent in the hills of North Carolina. Here they found a wide, sandy slope-an ideal spot for bird beginners-and, having made wings of wood and canvas, they began to leap and soar, grasshopper fashion, from spot to spot.

All this was fun, not science. Their only object was to amuse themselves, as they had done in boyhood, with the artificial birds of Penaud.

One day in 1901 their sport was watched by Octave Chanute, the chief expert of America on the subject of aeronautics.

He watched their flights, studied their gliding machine, and said, “You have come nearer to the art of flying than any other men who have ever lived." The Wright brothers accordingly set to work in serious earnest. Up till 1903 their machine was a mere glider. It had a steering tail in front instead of behind. At the end of 1903 they used a motor machine, which, with the man, weighed 745 pounds. By this means one brother flew for fifty-nine seconds in the face of a strong wind.

A FLIGHT OF NINETY-FOUR MILES.

THE WORLD'S MODEL PRISON.

THE Wide World Magazine for December contains a description, by Mr. V. M. Hamilton, of the Michigan State prison, U.S.A., which claims to be the world's model penitentiary :

Although it contains seven hundred of the worst characters in the States, the institution is governed, practically speaking, by kindness. The convicts are allowed all sorts of privileges; they can earn money for themselves, and by consistent good conduct they may rise to positions of trust and responsibility.

The first step was the abolition of flogging. Every Saturday afternoon they are allowed three-quarters of an hour freedom on the green sward. As this privilege would be revoked were it abused, the prisoners themselves are the best safeguards against abuse. There are not more than thirty warders, and they are only armed with canes. No firearms are allowed within the prison gates. The prisoners are graded according to conduct; the best have a blue uniform, those on probation a grey. Only the incorrigible, who are deprived of all privileges, are in the convict's striped dress.

MURDERERS THE BEST CHARACTERS.

An extraordinary statement was made by the Deputy-Warden when asked whether it was safe to have so many men-killers strolling about. He said :—

From the standpoint of honesty, trustworthiness, and reliability, the murderers are the best men in the prison, as a class. Men generally kill while under the influence of an overpowering passion. They may have great provocation, and believe they are only protecting their property or families, or avenging an unpardonable wrong; and a very decent sort of chap may have a bad temper but still be an honourable man. Of course, thieves who kill to save themselves from arrest, or those who commit wilful murder, hardly come within this category. But in actual practice we find the men of best character to be those who are here for murder. I do not attempt to explain the fact, but it is a fact. The contractors (men who contract with the State for prison labour) find them so, and are always anxious to secure them. The thieving tramps and city loafers, who ordinarily are only sentenced to short terms, are the worst people whom we have to deal with.

All prisoners are treated alike, until they qualify or

notice :

In 1905, with a sturdy 800-pound machine, they made a series of air-line voyages that are absolutely without a parallel. In six flights they covered a distance of ninety-four miles, flying and landing with almost the poise and self-control of an albatross.

Mr. Octave Chanute says that they improved upon his device by putting the tail in front, and in several other ways. "Their skill in controlling their machine is most surprising. On one occasion, for example, I saw one of the brothers land safely while at a speed of fifty miles an hour." Another witness says, "Orville was in the air for nearly forty minutes, fully sixty feet from the ground, and he held as level a course as though he were running on a track. His machine was as steady as a train." The Wright brothers themselves do not regard the twenty-four miles as the limit. They can fly for a thousand yards with the ground not more than a foot beneath them.

crimes less than murder are indeterminate. The prisoner is detained until his conduct justifies 'his being released on parole, after having served the minimum sentence. He must, however, before release provide himself with a first friend, who will find him employment or look after him on his discharge. The prisoners are allowed to talk at their work, but must be silent during meals and on the line of march. After doing the amount of work required by prison regulations, they are allowed to work for themselves, and what they earn is put to their credit. They are allowed to have musical instruments in their cells. Often theatrical companies visiting the town give a performance in the pretty little theatre built by the convicts. This management by kindness is long past the experimental stage. It has been found that discipline by force and fear, though easy, is most destructive of the self-respect and the manhood of its subjects.