Pittsburg dispatch. (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, February 17, 1889, SECOND PART, Page 14, Image 14

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THE
PITTSBURG-. DISPATCH, SUNDAY,
PJEBRUART
17, -1889.'
f ' 14.
t-
A GRAND PANOEAMA
Unfolded to a Tourist in the Mount
ains of Connemara.
IRISH BIRDS AND POSIES.
Mid-Winter Beauties of Land and Air
Poetically Described.
A EAEE JI0UXTA1N FL017EE FOTOD
tCOBSXSrOKSENCXOrTnE sisfatce.
LIFDEN, IRELAND,
February 4. In a
week's wandering
among the Highlands
or Connemara two un
expectedly winsome
objects of study to
the walker, aside from
the grandeur of
scenery and the
quaintness of the
neasantrv. presented themselves with that
rare delight which all travelers experience
from a eense of personal discovery. These
were the winter birds and wild fowl, and the
winter flora of the silent and dazzling Irish
heights. In that brief time a score of the
former, which were recognized, were seen;
double that number of unknown habitats of,
or visitors to, the weird and mystic regions,
added to the pleasant consciousness or ever
present companionship; while the presence
of winter flowers were a source of unex
pected pleasure and delight.
My wanderings lay among the Mamturk
Mountains and the lamous Twelve Pins of
Bunnabeola, the foimer to the east, and the
latter to the west,of the long.crescent-shaped,
silvery inlaying of lovely Lough Inagh
and its swee far-reaching vale. The origin
of the name of the Matnturk range, and in
deed or everv river, lake, mountain, valley
or town, in Ireland, is interesting. It is
derived from the Celtic maum, an elevated
chasm or pass, especially one indicating
some terrible separation oy internal ele
mental struggle, and torc.aboar. Hence
maum-torc or, Anglicized, ilaraturk, "the
pass ot the boars;" lor local tradition veri
fies the ancient annals in wondenul legen
dary accounts of battles with legions of wild
boars with which the cloud-capped heights
were once infested. The great pass itself
winds through the glen of Bealnabrack,
where is also a wondrous little mountain
rivulet of the same name; and is the only
inlet into the wild and picturesque Joyce's
country.
THE TWELVE PUTS.
.These, the Twelve Pins of Bunnabeola
form the most remarkable single group of
mountains in Ireland, if or will I except
the Derryuasaggart, Mangarton, the Paps,
Coomeuagh, Gleua Purple or M'Gillicudy
Beeks, those heights which cluster alwut the
enchanted region of Killaruey. "'Pin" is a
modification of the Celtic ben, a peak.
Beauua Beola, their true name, signifies the
"peaks of Beola." Beola was a mighty
Fiibolg king who once reigned over all this
mountain-ribbed Couneinara region; and his
memory is further commemorated in Toora
beola (Beola's tumulus, or tomb) at the
head ol Boundstone bav, one it those tre
mendous iurcchings of the sea, a few miles
south of the mountains, where Beola is said
to have been buried, and where there are
ruins of aformer majestic abbey. The
Twelve Pins cot cr an area o about 40 square
miles, and comprise two chains or groups
connected, or more properly, separated, by
the lolly pass. Mam luaeh. Their highest
summits are Kmickaunahiggin, Bengower,
Littery, Derryclare, and the "hrow" ol Lit
tery. "The pa"ss of Mam Inach crowns the
wild and wondrous glen of Inagh, through
which a mountain torrent dashes to the east
to luagh longh; while a twin stream on the
west drains tlie mountain heights into the
ocean at Arc! bear bay and Clilden.
The whole 12 majestic peaks seem to
cluster into the one mighty centrjl monarch
peak of Knockannahiggin. From whatever
direction they may be approached, the scene
presented is one of solitude, sublimity,
grandeur. The loftiest heights are continu
ally wrapped in silvery mists, and the sun
light effect, upon and through these are
magically indescribable.
A. FOREIGN TOURIST.
The handsome mountain finch, a rare vis
itant of any region in Ireland save in sever
est winters, was the very first 'oreign tour
ist I met in the Connemara Highlands. He,
and a host ol his kin were here dividing the
honors with the Comiaught pig that one
object on earth which exceeds in monstrous
outlines ami impalpable thinness those of
the "razor-back" hog of the American
South in querulous gropings and scratch
ings for the diminutive, delicious mast of
the beecn, which skirts in noble massings
many ol the lower mountain plateausanJ de
files. Here and there where swollen streams
had le t uncouth deposits upon their banks,
on the shores of tiny lakes where sharp
blasts had churned the waters into lury be
neath the bases of overhanging clifls, or
again at the edges of unkempt mountain
roads, flocks of a score or more oi the little
mountain buntings were lound, hopping
jerkily about and picking at the reluse like
alee little old nrolessors pothering over some
anatomical study.
I did not see tne bittern, bnt I heard his
hollow boom in the grew-onie twilight; and
taw the superstitious peasant at my side
cross himselt hastily and move his lips in
prayer. This bird is now an nnusual speci
men in the cultivated districts oi Ireland;
but among these desolate mountain tarns
and bogs it still skulks and booms iu the
gray hours between day and night To the
ignorant humans near him his call typifies
the voice of offended Deity; while many a
poor belated wretch, on hearing the bittern's
mournful drum, dashes along the mountain
paths in an ecstacy ot fear, believing in
truth the awful "banshee" is pursuing and
wailing its ','keen" of death in his very
ears.
ODD FEATHERY NATIVES.
The droll and nervous, though bright and
daring, little bluetit, or "stouechat," as the
peasants call it, was here with a myriad
followers, about and within the copses
skirting dense mountain forests; the wagtail
or "devil's bird," fluttered and dashed
among the hare limbs above many a
secluded rivulet, the nervous energy of its
"eloquent tail" plainly indicating all man
ner of mountain gossip; and two or three
glimpses were had where the wild haw
thorne grew of that fabled bird of the Hyr
canian lorest, the exquisitely bcautiiul
waxwing, whose secondary quills are tipped
with bits of wafer-like flawing red. Those
"poor men's birds," the humble and roelo
diousliunets, mignt be come upon without
surprise in winter in the great forests of
noble demesnes; but who could extiect to
find them in these lolty solitudes? Tet
here they are in cloudy flocks, risin;,
alighting and uttering their pleasing but
mournlul notes as if in response to some
mysterious mountain litany unheard by
human ears..
In many of these vast and shadowy moun
tain valleys, the home-nearing feeling came
when flocks of the modest-nlumaged warb
lers, the titlarks, rose gracefully irom foot
hill ascent to higher hill, and again to loftier
lope, their gentle flight so remarkable from
their rythmic beat ot wings in unison with
clear and piping notes. The learless cross
bill in myriads sat munching the seeds of
conesju the clustering larcn and fir, or took
daintier dessert ol whitethorne berries with
saucy nonchalance almost within reach of
my outstretched hapd.
BEDODISS OF THE AIB.
Three specimens of those birds of terrible
powers, the perrgrine falcons, were seen;
those same feathered Bedouins of the air,
whose speed it from BO to 150 miles per hour:
the priceless gifts of and to Kings in feudal
ages; so prized that Emperors have been
bribed with them to assist in destructive
wars; and whose pursuit of any other bird
f passage is equivalent to its certain death.
A few sea-eagles, apparently driven by hun
ger from the near coast, wheeled slowly
around the valley's rims, their huge, gaunt
forms sprawling uncoutbly, their tre
mendous snow-white tails flapping like
gigantic plumes, and their ugly, un
wieldy heads moving :n clumsy jerks,
as if set in uncertain sockets,
Among the crags, and circling about the
highest peaks, but ever wary of human
proiimity, the true eagle of loftiest soli
tudes was here. Nearly half a hundred
were counted in one week's clambering
anion? the Highlands; but on no occasion
were they sufficiently approachable to en
able their outlines to be followed by the
naked eye. "With a glass their raven plum
age, their royal collar of gold, their bowed,
meditative posture, the sudden drooping of
their wings as their shrill, impatient
screams were uttered, could be clearly dis
cerned; and the feeling was irresistible that
one is verv far from the haunts of men and J
very near to the clouds and sky, when asso
ciated with the grandest sublimity of nature
where this majestic monarch of the plumy
race is in his haunts and home.
MIDWINTER SURPRISES.
To the nature-loving walker, there is an
indescribable delight in the presence of any
form of flora in midwinter. And I confess
that the glowings of pleasure among these
glittering Irish heights were truer and
deeper from the emotions thus awakened
than from all the majesty ana grandeur in
bewildering scenic effects; just as the heart
is touched by coming upon sweet and per
fect lives where want and squalor are, when
greatness among the great often commands
but trudging obeisance. "Wild flowers in
bleak Irish mountain heights in January!
Truly, yes; and here are those I saw.
At nearly the summit ot Bengower,
I found a little pockety vale in
which a rivulet trickled from a soggy
tarn. At its northern edge in a little
misty dingle, was a mass of Irish furze the
corse of England; the whins of Scotland.
Down in the very heart of this hank was a
bunch of the gay, golden lurze blossoms, as
brave and proud as ever shook their blos
soms in the balmiest breeze of June. a
warm vallev among the Manturks I discov
ered several of the purple-edged hellebores,
growing as prettily on a bank of leaves as
in the beds of a May garden. On the east
ern ascent of Littery in four protected nooks
were found the modest and best beloved of
Chaucer's flowers, his "day's-eyes," and
one's heart warms to the crimson-tipped dai
sies, breathing out their lives unnoticed in
these almost inaccessible mountain fast
nesses. Many specimens of the pretty red
nettle were seeu, almost always in little
clefts ot mighty cliffs where the sun's rays
were warm in spite of howling blasts.
A MOUNTAIN FLOWER.
But of all the rare surprises in mid-winter
mountain flowers was that one exper
ienced during my last morning in the High
lands, just as I was turning down the last
descent ironi grim Bengower into the great
Connemara road to Clilden. Startled by a
rush and a girlish call lrom a hidden path,
I turned just in time to receive the head
long force ot an irrepressible donkey laden
with creels. I caught the beast and held it
despite its viciousness, and iu another in
stant its companion, a lithe, supple, and
bare-legged mountain maiden, the most ex
quisitely beauti-ul lass 1 had seen in Ire
land, bounded down the path, and, after
soundly larruping the obstreper
ous animal, thanked me heartily,
innocently, bewitchingly, for the tri
fling service I had rendered. She was go
ing to Clilden to sell a donkey-load of peat.
I was also going to Clilden. We three, the
maid, the man, and the donkey went to
gether. The honest prattle of the little
woman, the gladness of the man, the riot
ous behavior of that donkey, and the larrup
lngs and laughter on that bright winter
morning, made the way all too short. And
as we parted at Clifden, where one road led
to the village and another to the heights
above, in all reverence for the unconscious
winsomeness, simplicity.purity and bravery
of this sv.eet mountain maid, my heart sang
all that these lines may tell:
TO AN IRISH MOUNTAIN FLOWER.
Maiden sweet of wild Bengower.
Fairer thou than fairest flowerl
Boddiced blue; with skirts of red;
Braideen sweeping from thy head;
Dainty toes and aiclung feet;
Matchless half-shown lunlw deer-fleet:
Where in all the circling zone
Blend such charms as thine in one?
Where are tones in linnet's note
Like the music in thy throat;
Where in all the faint far South
Lurks such languors in a mouth;
Where in depths of Irish skies
Are such depths as in thine eyes?
Dead to all the graces he
Who thrills not, as he looks on thee.
Dead to grace he who shall first
Make thee conscious and accursed.
Maiden s eet ot w lid Bengower,
Be for aye its mountain flower.
Edgar L Wakestan.
Back nt Work.
Bev. Mr. Huckins (of the Convicts Aid
Society, who has gone to Sing Sing to re
ceive two discharged prisoners) Aren'tyou
glad to get nut again ?
One of the paii- Bet your life tre is. You
snake his watch, Cooley, an' I'll grab der
stud. Judge.
Fnndorn'a Box ot Evili
Never contained a worse one than malaria.
Extirpate it when it first shows its hydra head.
If you don't. It will wind its sinuous length
about you. and, perhaps, in ttie end crush you.
Hostctter's Stomach Bitters annihilates and
prevents It So it does dyspepsia, constipa
tion, liver complaint, kidney ailments, rheuma
tism and nervousness. You cannot select a
prompter tonic and alterative.
UarrU Tuenter.
A royal show, and a big one, too, is pro
vided lor this week, the attraction being
Nelson's Great World Combination, which
opens Monday matinee. It comes, as it is
pronounced, a perfect vaudeville avalanche,
brinilul or more European novelties ana
bright specialty artists than any other show
on earth, besides being the largest and most
expensive organization that has visited
Pittsburg in many years. Heading the list
is the famous Nelson family, seven in num
ber, who are pronounced without living
equals, acknowledged Europe's greatest
feature and recognized the premier acrobats
of the world. Tne leats penoruied by these
peerless acrobats are such as no other artists
have ever attempted, and are marked by a
degree of skill and daring that simply hold I
the audience spellbound. Many other I
artists of varied talent contribute to the ex
cellent programme.
We Unil Do Ei-rrTlulns
In our power to further the celebration of
the anniversary of Washington's Birthday
in a becoming manner. To do so it will be
necessary that our employes shall celebrate
also. Hence our stores will be closed the
entire day, Friday, February 22.
Hoppek Bros. & Co.
Removal of Johnston's Gnn Store.
Big bargains in all kinds of guns, re
volvers and sportsmen's goods. All shop
worn and second-hand goods will be dis
posed of at or below cost before we remove
toTOOBissel Block.
EtRmple Free.
Ask yonr grocer for it. .Electric Paste
Stove Polish; saves dust, dirt, labor, women,
carpets and furniture.
Go to Pearson, the leading photographer,
for your cabinet photos. His prices are less
than all others.
Liver complaint cured free at 1102 Car
ton et., Southside.
ffr-n fi. ff
n MoJt
FLORA'S FAIR BOWER,
A Eiot of Luxury, Fragrant Exotics
and Balmy Breezes at
THE SEMI-TROPICAL EXTORTION.
A Glimpse of Paradise for the Traveler
From the Cold North.
SCEKES OF GKEAT HISTORIC INTEREST
rwRrrrm roa itn dispatch.
South Florida, February 11, 1889.
CALA'S day of all
days, and one to be
remembered in the
history of the bright
little city, was the
Exposi
tion. The glory
ana sweetness of a
hundred Junes was
there. Flags and
bunting took such
shapes as they never
knew before fes
tooned, draped, furled, twisted into all sorts
A Typical
ef devices. The glistening steel, flashing
sword and martial tread of the military
guard"; the officers, firemen, city officials,
press, business firms, made a triumphant
entry into the ground", and convince I the
most skeptical that the flash and dash of
Southern enterprise is a reality. Million
aire, "cracker." negro, all felt the influ
ence of the balmy day, and grewj5nthusia-s
tic over the success of the Exposition.
Our country cousins, in vehicles from the
primitive ox cart to the glittering costly
coupe.drawn by silky-coated thoroughbreds,
were in attendance. Beauty and chivalry
from the surrounding resorts to the bare
footed .pedestrian, gazed in admiration and
open-mouthed wonderment on the magnifi
cence of the display. To the Northerner,
just down from the gaunt cold North, with
thoughts of his frost-benighted friends at
home, the wildest dream of tropic loveliness
was more than realized, and he soon feels
that delirious height of ectasy that rests so
well and so characteristically on the South
erner, and forgetting his stiff Plymouth
Bock principles feels and enjoys the en
chantment ot a clime where endless summer
smiles.
FLORA'S HOME.
The matchless sunlight glints against thej
drops trickling irom the basin ot the great
fountains. The grass plot is studded with
rare, fragrant exotics; deer, pelican and
duck grace the erounds, and everything
says Flondiil The Peri who would enter
the paradise o," this miniature Florida must
deposit the talisman the small sum of SO
cenjs with the angel at the gate, and not
stopping to look behind, halt on the thres
hold of this tropical splendor. The bloom
and beauty that the hall commands ii be
wildering. Flora is the special goddess,
and seems to be holdingalong bacchanalian
rout of roses, jasmine, sweet-scented violets,
etc, exhaling odors enough to sweeten a
continent.
Comparisons, according to Mrs. Malaprop,
are "odorous," and to compare a Southern
exhibitiou with any other would only be to
distinguish the difference. But sometimes
the most enchanting scenes, by the emotions,
tender and dreamy that they awake in one,
have the power to cast a sadness over the
wanderer. Standing at the entrance, gazing
down the length of the building, a perfect
fairyland greets the visitor. Kich palmettos
and palms adorn the aides, a luxqriaiikdts
play of orange', lemons, limes and bananas
appear, while beds of strawberries, half-ripe
pineapples convince us that we are in the
flowering, balmy southland. Lemon trees
in all states of fruitage, fig trees, pome
granate, cocoanut; overgrown, awkward, de
moralized cacti, century plants and oranges.
Oranges everywhere arranged artistically
in clusters, rows and pyramids, among shad
dock, grape fruit, persimmon, etc., etc;
arches festooned and lined with moss and
pulms. The idea ol beauty is so well car
ried out that the roost fastidious could only
exclaim in admiration.
THE EPICURE'S DELIGHT.
Added to the luxurious display of the
asthetic and beautiful, the more matter of
fact vecetable comes into prominence.
Eipe tomatoes, egg plant, green peas, corn,
etc., mil in moth strawberries in such pro
fusion that the nineteenth century epicure
cannot but thank his lucky fate that his
destiny has been cast under Ore's prosper
ous reign. From these glimpses into the
four corners of the Peninsula, through the
windowsc the Exposition, the resources of
Florida prove to be-more varied and more
interesting that the world dreams. It is
here that the stranger is reminded by that
"irrepressible" the land agent that he is
in the "orange belt of the Peninsula;" but
seeing is believing, and the tourist who will
accommodate the kind-hearted gentleman of
each department by sampling "the finest
variety of the orange" comes awav im
pressed with the hospitality of the South
erner and a very dangerous case of yie
"orange lever," and as quickly leaves an
order at the packing room for one, two or
several boxes "like the sample" to be
shipped to friends at home.
The finest, the largest, the most paying
groves of the State are surrounding Peala.
The Harris grove, containing .200 acres, has
just finished its shipment or 0,000 boxes.
Does orange growing pay? It is here in
this miniature rloridathat the inquisitive
Yankee may revel in the desire of his soul
asking questions and he does it, too. The
prize pumpkin and cabbage weighing 40
pounds paralyze him for a moment, and
clutching his gripsack of wooden nutmeg1
with a vengeance, exclaims, "Do tell!" but
in another second, with the spirit of hi
Puritan fathers, boldly protests, 'Maini
and her pine trees kin beat it every time."
THE NEW SOUTH.
Pallas Athene is guarding the under
takers of this enterprise, and the resource
and attractions ot Florida are being shown
and studied to the advantage of Florida's
future. Northern tourists take the liveliest
interest in the great display of wonderful
and curious plants, flowers, fruits, native
woods, etc With the pessimist's views o"
the effect of yellow fever 'in Florida, and
the inquiries that come from bejond the
borders "What of Florida now?" this
midwinter exhibition will open a new era in
the prosperity of the State, and show the
powerful attractions and horticultural ele
ments. Tourists coming from the Ice-clad
North, ushered into this sample box ot the
New South, find it not only a transition,
but a wonderful revelation. Ennui Is
the bane of the traveler, but he
need not feel it,' surrounded by th
attractions and changing scenes of O c&j
The tropical comforts of the city are every
where apparent. Hotels are superb, and at
night are gay with music, and all goes
"merry as a marriage bell." Tennis and
croquet plats, billiards and bowling, fish
ing, saddle and driving horses, orchestra
day and evening, go to make up lite in this
social Eden. All that nature can do to
cheer the stranger's heart, whose lot, ac
cording to the pensive Hemans, is a "yearn
ing anguish," is don in this Southern
clime, which is mightier than the sword
American gold supplies. ,
A HUMAN KALEIDOSCOPE.
It is on these bright sunny days'that a
wonderful scene of animation and careless
hnppy lite is presented. Little children in
fleecy muslins find "December as pleasant
as May." Youths, Northern and Southern,
intermingle; cordial greeting and cultured
hospitality are everywhere apparent. That
contact with nature in all her sunny moods
exerts a feeling of profound enjoyment, dis
pelling that glum, curt, rushed-to-death
air of the oppressed Northerner. Sen
timent, too, occupies a high place in the
kaleidoscope of life. Moonlight, , music,
love and flowers go to make up. this season
of gayety, and as a representative of the
sunny lands remarked, "The South was
first subdued by arms next by capital, and
not contented with this. Northern men are
now marrying all our beautiful women."
All around Ocala are places of historic
interest. The most important and exciting
events of the Seminole War took place here.
It was at Fort King, near Ocala, that the
treatv of the Ocklawaha was signed, and
here that Osceola led his warriors through
Florida Scene.
swamp and thicket, decoying our soldiers
into dangerous retreats, to find nothing, but
satis ying, our officers that a disciplined
army was not adapted to the work of sur
prising Indians. It was at the council of
Fort King that the defiant Osceola, in ven
geance for the treason of the old Chief
Omatla, under the ruse of signing the
treaty, in exulting triumph stuck his sword
through the parchment, with triumphant
premeditation, through the signature of
Omatla. All this recalls the history of the
arrest, the tragic frar scenes, and the horrors
of the war cry, "Yoho-ehee," which is the
gathering war word of the Seminoles, and
was always followed by such vengeance ard
such retaliation. JI. M.
IMAGINING A N1?W JURY.
AnEnstern Journal Hns Pitfsbnrg Impanel
n YVomnn Joror.
To show how one mnstgo away from home
to hear the news, it may be mentioned that
the New York Graphic says, editorially:
The old common law, which permitted women
to serve as jurors under certain circumstances, I
nas come curiously into play at Pittsburg. An
application for such a jury has been made
In the Orphans Court. The case isaclsimhy
a Miss Mitchell to the estate of Thomas Shee
tian, wboe child she claims to be. Sheeban
bad a child, which was placed in a convent at
an ear'y age and reported to have died. When
Sheeban died his estate was valued at S50.000.
HiSHite survived bira and instituted an in
quiry Tor her child. A number of claimants
appeared, attracted by the estate. None of
them cauld show any evidence of the genuine
ness nf her claim except Miss Mitchell, whose
identity was made clear tn the mother through
a birth mark. As there are other contestants
Tor the estate, a trial In the Orphans' Court is
necessary, and a jurv of wnnien has been de
manded. The trial will be a novel one in the
history of American jurisprudence.
The writer proceeds to remark that, if
women were to be chosen to do jury dutv, it
would be a great relief to the male members
of the coniniuiiity, and suggests that, while
mere are cases in wnicn woman 8 sympa
thetic natnre and impetuosity would make
her dangerous to defendants as, for in
stance, in breach of promise and divorce
suits, where women were plaintiffs but
otherwise the writer is of the opinion that,
in prosecutions involving morality and hon
esty, their strong sense of right and wrong
would enable them to "go direct to the heart
of the controversy, sweep aside legal forms,
quibbles and biased charges of judges, and
mete out equal and exact justice, tempered
with mercy," etc.
In the first place, neither Register Conner
nor Mr. Cyrus Gray knows anything of the
application for a jury in this case, and, were
uue a-heu, me mm wouia oe in tne Uom
mon Pleas, as the Orphans' Court does not
try cases bv jury.
Messrs. Quail and Cotton and other law
yers seemed to doubt that a case could be
legally triel bnlbre a jury of women in
this State, and Mr. Raymond remarked, as
to the possible advantages suggested bv the
Graphic writer, that, just as at present, re
sults would depend on thecharacter of those
drawn as jurors.
Neither of the Orphans' Court Judges
could be found; but it seems that some
newsmonger has drawn on his imagination
for the delectation ol Gotham readers.
SOMETHING FOR NOTHING.
A Maid Servant Who Troves a Bonanza lo
Di ok Stores.
The great wish to get something for noth
ing is brought out in the story which a
charming invalid lady relates to a reporter
of a large-hearted maid-servant of hers.
Her physician gives a new prescription
every day, and, as the invalid's
ailment usually disappears after one
or two doses of the medicine, a large stock
of partially-filled bottles accumulated about
the medicine chest. Ann, the maid servant,
in all her healthv native curiosity and
boldness, asked the lady "for why" this
medicine was purchased, how it should be
taken, and what were the symptoms of the
disorder?
Her mistress informed her. and in two
minutes Ann complained of 'feelin' quare,"
and asked permission to finish the bottle.
Preparations for colds, sick headaches,
toilet water, hair oil and anything that
looked like medicine were taken by the girl
for her imaginary complaints, and she
began growing stout and hearty on her new
diet. The invalid is anxiously watching
the result.
The girl actually takes pride in the num
ber of times she has been in the hospital.
An Accessory to ibe iUnsiache.
Herr Elstesnaben (as the guests ait down
to dinner) Vos you der budler 1
The Butler Oi am, sor.
Herr Elstcnbaben Yen you lerre me
xnein soup, pring a tinyr.Puci.
WHIMSICAL WOMEN.
Effects of Their Tempers Upon Men
Described by Mrs. Frank Leslie.
'A WIDOWER'S MODENFUL PLAINT.
A Sweet-Tempered Wife a Kara Iris Worth
a Prolonged Search. x
HOW WOMEN AEE AFFECTED BY BALLS
rWBITTMr TOR THE DISPATCH.
HEN a young man, in
-..lid i... . t aja a
r. a UUtBl Ul uuuuucuuc,
telfs you what manner
of cirl he intends to
marry as soon as he
finds'her, he invaria
bly stipulates that she
must b e amiable.
Sometimes he calls it
good-tempered, some
times easy-going,
sometimes jolly, for our jennesse doree are
not, as a rule, exact in their use of lan
guage, but he means the quality which to
my mind is best described by the term sweet
tempered, and I generally reply to him, in
one form or another: "Certainly. That is
probably the one virtue whose presence
makes a home a home, instead ol a stopping
place, but do you find within yourself the
traits that will meet and reward such a
royal gift?"
My young man generally confesses that
he does not, and parades various extenua
tions tor a man's irritability or violence, or,
worst of all, moodiness of temper, and still
insists that the wife, to be a model wile,
should be provided with such supereroga
tion of sweet temper that she can not ouly
contribute her own but ner husband's share
of amiability to the family stock.
Well, I don't wonder that the young man
feels this desire, and I quite agree with him
that a truly sweet temper is one of the
choicest gifts the airy godmother can bestow
upon woman, and I only hope he may
find it I
1ITTLE TEMPERS.
In going about the world and receiving
the confidences both men and women so
freely bestow upon some of us, one cannot
but s'ee with mingled wonder and pity hoyr
many women spoil their own lives and
destroy with their own ruthless fingers the
illusions clothing every bride iu her lover's
eyes, just by giving way to their little tem
pers. ".Little tempers!" The phrase always
suggests to me that other phrase of "The
little foxes that spoil the grapes." If the
tempers are really little they should be very
easily restrained, and at least hidden, even
though, like the classic little fox "bt the
Spartan boy, it gnaw deep in its conceal
ment. Of course, it is easier to let your
foxes run free, and when the joint propri
etor of the vineyard says the grapes are
spoiled, to exclaim, "Oh, but it was such a
little onel How can you make a fuss over
that?"
Woman's nerves are lightly set; the jar
that sets them all in a thrill passes uu elt
over the heavier organization of the man;
the breeze that to him is only a pleasant
stimulus is to her a devastating storm. Last
night's ball or theater party or reception is
to him a slight feeling ot weariness, to be
dissipated by a cold bath and an extra cup
of coffee, while to her it is the waste of a
weeK s ordinarv vitality. Her nerves are
on edge, her vitality depressed, her mental
spectacles indigo-blue. The husband per
haps is a little surly, perhaps a little teas
ing, perhaps unwisely brings up some sore
subject or proposes some unwelcome plan.
Verv little is enough, and the wife lets loose
the little foxes who snap and bark and drag
down the fair clusters oi'grapes.until at last
the angry man rushes from his home mutter
ing a man's almost brutal phrases of wrath,
and the wife remains weeping among the
torn clusters ot the domestic rine. Or,
again, she has been all day worried and
worn with domestic cares. They are not
rich, and she has to do a' great deal with a
very little.
tmLE WORRIES.
She does not want the children to fall be
hind their natural comrades in schooling or
accomplishments or dress, and she has to
supply with her own fingers and her own
tired brain a great many little devices of
the toilet and of amusement that other
mothers can buy. She grows a little weary
of the constant struggle, and her thoughts
revert to a richer suitor who could have
spared her all this and set her on a pinnacle
far above the woman whose children hers
are emulating, and, after ali, perhaps it
would have been better. Just there she
stops, a little frightened atherown thoughts,
but when her husband comes home, also
tired, also discouraged, also a little dis
gusted with life, he finds his wife silent or,
as he presently decides, sulky, and disposed,
if he talks to her of his business worries, to
hint a very disparaging opinion of his abil
ity anamemoas. .Naturally the man re
seiits this attack upon his prerogative of
superior wisdom, and this time it is not a
"tiff," but a downright quarrel that ensues,
and perhaps that vineyard is never quite the
fair and fragrant place it was before.
Or, the servants are provoEing, and when
reproved becomes impertinent, and the mis
tress loses her own temper and indulges her
self in scolding the delinquent, who vaguely
feels that she has after all won the victory,
for she has dragged her mistress down to her
own level, and the worst of it is that the
mistress leels the same humiliating cer
tainty. Or. the children are tiresome and wear
ing, and the tired and nervous mother either
cannot or will not leave them to the care of
others, but yet neutralizes her weary self
devotiou by sharp reproo's. sarcasms that
sink far deeper than she knows, or angry
blows that only harden instea'd of disciplin
ing the child.
Then there is a temptation to be simply
cross that assails every woman, .though she
may have neither husband, child nor serv
ant' to spend it unon, and this form of ill
temper is perhaps the most subtle'and dan
gerous of all that assail a woman's soul, for
it is all-pervading.
You wake up in the morning cross, your
toilet is vexatious and unsatisfactory, your
breakfast is altogether distasteful, and you
are tempted to be sharp with- the servant
who brings it to you. The weather is just
the bind you most dislike, the person you
wih to see is not at home, and the one you
don't want to see finds you at home. Every
body chooses disagreeable topics of conver
sation, and you nearly quarrel with your
best friend about the "make-up of the new
Cabinet, although yon rars as little abont
it as you do about most things. The whole
day goes wrong until either "time or vour
own resolution, or the advent of some bright,
sunny, resolute friend drags you back to
good humor almost despite yourself.
DEATH OP LOVE.
Yes, the little tempers are very various,
and many of them very contemptible, but,
for nil th'at, their aggregate force is some
thing tremendous, and, given time ind lib
erty enough, they will not only spoil the
grapes, but ruin the whole vineyard and lay
it uaste. '
Did you ever hear of the man who, when
told that he was to go to his wire's funeral
in (he same carriuge with his mother-in-law,
replied mournfully, "Very well, if you
buve arranged it so; but it will spoil all my
pleasure."
I always felt that that dead wife and her
mother had given way to a great many little
tenipers,before the widower's grief lound in
stinctive utterance after this fashion. I
dare say the man was "aggravating," and
perhaps worse; I dare say the wile and her
mother could have said a good deal on their
side of the question, and of one thing I am
quite sure; if the case bad been reversed, the
widow would not have said, because she
would not have felt, that it waa a pleasure
to go to her husband's funeral. For here is
a truth which I preient to the consideration
mm
of my sister women, and I assure them that
it is the fruit of much observation and study
or mankind. A woman's little tempers will
in the course of years make an impression
upon a man's estimate of her that no after
time can undo; while if she once truly love
him, years of bickering or ill-treatment on
his part are wiped away and forgotten by
the caresses of his returning love, or by the
faltering firewell of his dying breath. A
woman's resentment ot the little offenses of
fered her by the mau she loves is like
the. sand upon the beach, so lightly
ruffled, so easily heaped into chasms and
mountains, but so sure to be placated by the
return of the tide, so easily restored to the
full integrity of its origiuul condition. But
the man's consciousness of injuries is like
the rock lying so stolidly upon that shifting
beach. The winds blow the sand across
hfai, but it soon blows off again. The
waves dash over and seem to leave no mark.
but the years go by, and twice everv day
the sand and the waves together grind away
a little and a little of the substance of the
rock, and after mapy years, if the sand says,
I am tired of this useless war.are, let us be
as we were at first, the rock must sadly an
swer nay, that cannot be, for he years have
worn away what no years can restore. We
can only make the best of what is left.
Of course I do not mean.that it is only the
woman who is to blame in this couditinn of
things, nor that a woman is any more bouni
than a man to restrain herself and do or
leave undone whatever makes for peace in
the home, only it is a certain truth that a
really sweet-tempered woman will reap
more love while she lives and more tears
when she dies than a woman who indulges
her little tempers, no matter what virtues
she may bring forward to counterbalanse
them.
BETTER THAN RICHES.
But, after all, what is a sweet temper? So
many things are sweet that are not there'ore
agreeable the nauseous sweet of certain
medicines when the odious sub-taste pierces
through, and one loathes them all the more
lor the sweetness, and the mawkish sweet of
whey and certain kindred preparations, and
warm eau sucree and the mild tisanes they
dose you with across the seas in rural parts.
No, to be sweet-tempered in any of those
ways is hardly better than the little tempers.
There must be a richness, a body to the
seet to make it delicious; there must be a
piquancy to relieve it of monotony. To my
mind, there is something very'alluring in.
IL. t.. VI i- I ;. r.t- ..."
tne laatc ui nuuey, lur in spue oi me intense
sweetness nnd the richness, there is a certain
subtle reminder of the bee's sting, a certain
piquancy suggestive of thedeadlv fight that
fellow would have made it some brother bee
had tried to forestall him in the lily's
breast. There is a tang of animated life as
well as the breath of flowers about honey
that makes its sweet to "me different from
all other sweets, and the nearest type of
nature to the sweet temper so much to be de
sired in woman.
A sweety temper, then, is a temper with
force and life enough to blaze up in righte
ous wrath when proper occasion calls; for I
pity, nay, I despise, the man or woman who
cannot be angry at sight of cruelty, or in
sult, or deceit, or baseness a "pan ot skim
luilk" that cannot be "moved to honorable
enterprise" it is a temper that can perceive
matter of annoyance and refuse to notice it,
a temper that even in the momentof annoy
ance can suggest to itself excuses for the
annoyer, a temper that can pass over that
moment and revert to better things in the
past, or look forward to them in the future;
a temper that never loses sight of love and
its obligations, a temper serenely powerful
over speech and affectionately allied with
self-respect, a temper whose owner never
has to say, "I forgot myself," and never
noes say, "i torn you so;" a temper quick
to forget injuries and to accept atonement,
and retentive of favors and loving word; a
temper that can find fault without rousing
angry passions on either side, that can re
prove a servant without loss of self-control
or ot gentle dignity, and can rebuke or
punish a child without shaking either its
love or its respect.
Yes, my young friend, when- you marry
by all means secure a sweet-tempered womnn
or your wife--that is to say, it you can find
her and she will accept yon. But having
found your rara avis and I assure you the
bird diies exist, for I have seen it pause,
before inviting it into your cage, to qnestion
with yourself what Inducements you have to
offer and what qualities you leel yourself
possessed ol that will make the bargain an
even one and render you worthy to possess
heaven's last, best gift to man.
Mrs. Frank Leslie.
LATE NEWS IN BRIEF.
The suspension of Edward Hatch has been
announced at the New York Stock Exchange.
He was a member of the Exchange since July,
Cornelius E. Demarest, for many years the
trusted bookkeeper of the Passaic Ice Com
panp of Paterson, N. J., was arre ted yester
day on the charge of embeftllne $2,800. He
was released on ball.
At Port Huron. Mich., Mrs. Barnev Bender
locked her three children, aged 2, 4 and 6 yeir,
in the house while she went down town. The
children set fire to the bouse, and when res
cued by neighbors were unconscious. The two
youngest children died and the other is not ex
pected to recover.
From a report laid before the Canadian
Parliament It appears there are at present 19
lepers confined in the Dominion lazaretto at
Tracadie, New ttrunswick-8 males and 11
icmaies. jjunng the year two new cases were
admitted from the surrounding country. No
effort appears to have been made by the Gov
ernment to arrest the terrible diease. which is
reported to be spreading in British Columbia.
Among the passengers on board the steam
ship Britannic arriving yesterdav, was the
Bwiss, Kuhn, who s cbartred with the murder
of a man in Wisconsin. The accused murderer
was In charge ot a deputy United States mar
shal, and after a brief delay in New York
started for Wisconsin. Knbn escaped from
this country to England, having obtained se
cretly a pa-sage on board the steamship Lord
Gough. under an assumed name.
At Belvidere. 111., the climax was reached
in a war against the saloonkeepers when the
fnand jury returned indictments against every
iquor man in tle city. Nearlv SO Indictments
were found altogether for sellirg liquor to
minors and habitual nrnnknrds. The saloon
keepers already have a 10,000 damage suit on
their hands, anil the fact or their being com
pelled to pay J1.000 annual license, together
with the expenses of the law snits. will about
absorb all of their profits. The temperance
people feel happy In consequence.
At Church's Ferry, Dak., Sheriff Flynn has
had another tussle with the half-breeds In at
tempting to culled taxes. Yeerday the
Sheiitf seized some horses belonging to aha N
breed. He was overtaken before reaching
town by a mounted band of 15 half-breeds,
armed with guns. They took the horses from
the Sheriff and rode oJT, flnng their guns and
hooting In the Indian fashion. Late last night
a number or the Dakota Natii-nal Guard, ac
companied by the Sheriff, went to Duneith
and will attempt to arrest all those engaged in
the scrimmage. Indignation runs high and
blood may be shed. There is no dmger of the
white settlers being molested.
An Illicit still and a complete, though
crude, apparatus for the production of corn
whisky, have been unearthed Iu Chicago and
seized by the United States revenue officers. A
dozen or more person, including several
saloonkeepers, are sus ected of complicity
with the moonshiners, ami a number of ar
rests will lie m ide by the Government authori
ties. A local paper saya that from information
received it has reason to believe that the work
already accomplished is but a side issue, and
that right in the heart of the city there are a
number of "-tills" with a dailv capacity of over
60 gallons, all of which are running In lull blast
and managed by a svndii ate of well known
men. The revenue officials promise to give
full Information regarding the case as soon as
they have "sprung their trap."
Independence Rock, the most noted land
mark on the overland route to California, was
the scene of a remarkable fatality three days
ago. Daniel 8tockw ell came to the Territnry
troin Ohio last August, and purchased a small
ranthe on buffalo creek, near the nick. For
four weeks Stock ell has bad as guests Albert
and George A very, young-men whose parents
reside near Youngstown. O. Last Thursday,
while out hunting, or nearing Indepcndeni e
Rook, they noticed some rattle forming a large
circle of which tliey were the center. Stnrk
well, fearing a stampede, counseled fliBbtto
Independence Rock, and told them to drop
their guns and run for their lives. Stockwell
rapidly got ahead of them, and on reaching the
roikwas horrified, on looking back, to find
that the young men In their desperation had
made a stand against the maddened cattle and
disc-barged their firearms In the face of the
foremost. The beasts In the lead attempted tn
change their course, but those behind lorced
them, over the luckless young men. The entire
herd of at least 600 bead trampled over the
bodies ot the Averys. The remains were
wholly unrecognizable.
Invalids call at 1102 Carson it. and be
cured free of charge.
A -GOOD CONSCIENCE
Is Something That Must he Carefully
Trained and Guarded.
EIGHT AND WRONG AEE RELATIVE
Terms Which Change in Accordance With
Circumstances.
A TIME WHEN SLAYER! WAS PE0PEE
rWMTTXS JOB TOT DISFATCB.l
HE question is, how
to keep the conscience?
That is, how to keep
it right and true. This
curious conscience of
ours, which seems to
distinguish so inade
quately between right
and wrong. "What
shall we do with it?
How shall we make it keep spiritual time?
How shall we make it register moral and
available truth?
Just here, we introduce a distinction.
Bight and wrong are terms which are used
sometimes in one way and sometimes in
quite another way. If we may put it
in the language of philosophy, and thus get
90 sentences into two words: right aud
wrong are sometimes taken absolutely and
sometimes relatively.
Bight and wrong, viewed as external
facts, are relative, that is, they may change
places. The same act, wrong in one age
and place and person, may be right in
another. Kight and wrong, in this sense,
are simply the best or not best which each
age or society knows. They are decided by
custom.
This, I remember, was one of the points
which Mr. Beecher made when he lectured
here on "Conscience."' I will borrow some
of his strong illustrations.
"WHEN SLAVEBY "WAS BIGHT.
At the beginning, for example, slavery
was right. It was an act of benevolence. It
was a distinct advance upon the old fashion
of killing all the captives taken in time of
war. The nrst slaveholders were enlight
ened reformers men ahead ot their time.
They were the wiser and kinder leaders
who spared the lives of their enemies, and
set them to work instead. Slavery then was
right. To-day changes in the condition of
society have made it wrong.
So of many ancient customs set down in
the Old Testament. They were right in
the days or Abraham, of Joshua, of David,
simply because theywere the best then
known; to-day, they are not the best, and
are consequently wrong. So that it has
been excellently said, that to uphold those
customs as being. right for us to follow; or
on the other hand to say that if they are
wrong for us, they must have been wrong
for Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, is as absurd
as to say of a shoe which you wore when you
were a baby, "This fitted me when I was
3 years old; something is wrong because it
doesn't fit ml nowl"
We do not need, however, to consult
geography or history to show that the same
external act the very same act may be
right or wrong according to circumstances.
The man who sticks a knile into his fellow
is a murderer, said Mr. Beecher, unless he
is a surgeon. Joseph Cook, in a lecture on
conscience, tells this story: "WhenSamuel
Taylor Coleridge was a poor boy and a
charity scholar in London, he was wander
ing one day along the Strand, throwing out
his hands wildly to the right and lelt, and
one of tbem came in contact with a gentle
man's waistcoat pocket, and the man imme
diately accused the boy of thievish inten
tions. 'No, said Coleridge, 'I am not in
tending to pick your pocket; I am swim
ming (he Hellespont. This morning in
school I read the story of Nero and Leander.
Nero was on the European siile.and Leander
jwam the Bophorus to meet her.
I AM IMITATING LEANDEB.
So you have to look beneath the external
act to the motive. The act may he right or
it mav be wrong, it "may be an imitation ot
Leander or an imitation of Fagin. The
morality of the act depends upon the motive.
And just here we leave right and wrong
relative, and stand face to face with right
and wrong absolute. The world over, and
all the ages through, a bad motive is wrong,
and a good motive is right. Slavery was
right in the old time, because the motive
was mercy. Stealing was right in Sparta,
because the motive was not theft, but the
development of 'cunning and dexterity. It
was right for the Egyptians to say their
prayers to the Biver Nile, lor that was the
best they knew, and the motive was sincere
adoration. The quality of an act depends
upon its motive.
Now conscience has to do with questions
of right and wrong. And according as we
mean right and wrong relatively that is, the
external act or right ana-wrong absolute
that is, the inner motive so is conscience
fallible or infallible. Concerning the act,
conscience may make mistakes. It deceived
Saul when it told him to persecute the
Christians. But concerning the motive,
conscience makes no mistake at all. So
lnngasynuare doing the best yon know
how, conscience approves, although your
best may not be the absolute best. Hut fall
beneath your own ideal; contemplate an act
which denies your principle", whatever
they are; meditate doing whatever agrees
not with the best you know, then conscience
speaks, conscience forbids. It is significant
that the iuner voice, to which Socrates
ascribed the guidance of his life, spoke
ONLY TO 8AYNO.
The state of the case, then, is evidently
this. When conscience silent and inter
poses no objection, you may be right or you
may he wrong. You are acting up to the best
you know,but you may not know so much as
you ou.'ht to. Conscience, as we saw, is
the joining together ol two kinds of knowl
edge the knowledge ot an act with the
knowledge ota principle which determines
its character. There may be some princi
ples higher than the one yon know, which
would m?ke your act wrong. So you may
be wrong instead o' right. But when con
science speaks and says no, then you are
wrong. That vou mav nearly alwavs de
pend upon. The affirmations of conscience
concern the external act, and .may be mis
taken; hut the negations of conscience con
cern the innerraotive; and no man may with
impunity disobey when conscience says no.
The keeping of the conscience, then, in
volves a two-'old duty.
First, we must keep the conscience
right, that is, we must so in
form it with the broadest and
best principles that its- judgment may
be true, we must try to make our ideal of
life the wisest and highest which is at
tainable in our age That is done by inter
course both in society and in tooks,with the
best men, with the people of the purest and
loftiest ideal.
Our notions of right and wrong depend
lamely upou the opinions of our fellows-As-sociute
with the bigoted, the narrow-minded,
the men who take low or lax views of
. LIFE AND DUTY,
and you will lower your ideal, and yonr
ignorant conscience will mislead you. The
same result will lollow from rending sectar
ian religious newspapers, or partisxn politi-
tical newspapers, or irom accustoming.
yourself to lollow the thoughtsofany writer
who takes narrow-minded views of things.
You will certainly have a narrow
minded conscience which cannot
be depended upon. You may even
come to have an immoral conscience.
The affirmations of conscience I suid.are
simply the application of your highest
principles to your conduct. 'If you wish to
nave a true conscience, you must see to it
that yonr highest principles are the highest
attainable. The truest and best ideal of life
is formed by diligent study of Holy
Scripture. Yon 'may bo sure that if you
are not making the Bible yonr rule of fife,
and Christ your one example of all that is
most desirable in conduct, yon have an
ignorant and misleading conscience, which
mikg&
is meekly saying "yes" when It ought to ho
stoutly sayiug "no."
And then, as a further duty, we most
keep the conscience quick. We must see to
it that we have a conscience which will be
speedy to inform us whenever we fall below
our ideal It is easy to make the voice of
conscience dim. Be fuse to listen once, and
the call will be fainter the next time. Con
tinue to refuse and you will silence con
science. This is an inevitable law. Dr.
South, in his quaint manner, puts this in
another way. '-Often scouring and cleansing
the conscience will make it bright, and
when it is so a man may see his face in it.
On the contrary, if conscience, by a long
neglect of and 'disacquaintance with itself
comes to contrast an inveterate rust or soil, a
man may as well expect to see his face in a
mad wall, as that such ft conscience should
give him a true report of his condition."
A FAIBLY GOOD LIFE.
Yon will hear people say and possibly
you will say yourself "'I live a fairly good
life: I harm no man; I do my duty so far al
I know it. My conscience does not reproach
me." And the answer is: "My friend,
what kiud ol a conscience have von got?
Is it a quick conscience, and if you did wrong;
would it tell you? Perhaps you silenced it
long ago by not listening to it. And is it a
true conscience? May it not posihly ap
prove because you have a low ideal? May
it not say to yon softly and. complacently,
'You are doing your duty,' because yotx
have never taught it what "duty is? May
you not need to educate your conscience?
Put your 'fairly good life in the sight of
Him who gave Himself to suffer and die
that you might live a life other than that;
put vour good will toward your neighbor
beside the first and great- commandment,
'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all
thy heart and with all thy soul and with all
thy mind and with all thy strength.' Tell
your conscience that there" is such a stand
ard of life as that and then listen."
We cannot but believe that any man who
lives conscientiously shall be saved. But,re
member, that that means this and nothing
less nor lower. Every man who keeps his
conscience diligently,'by learning and fol
lowing the will of God as closely as be can,
shall be saved. The man who keeps his
conscience right by setting his ideal as high
as he possiblv can; the man who keeps his conscience-
quick, by listening to it and obeying
he shall he saved. Keep thy conscience
with all diligence,for out of are the issues of
life-everlasting. Geobge Hodges.
AKT iNOTES AND GOSSIP.
A number of pictures from the School of
Design have been placed, on exhibition at
Boyd's.
Mr. D. B. Wax.ki.et is engaged upon soma
water-color studies from sketches made during
his stay in Holland.
Mb. John J. Hammer has had posesslon ot
Mayer's window with a display of water-color
sketches and some more finished work in oil,
two notable examples being a painting noted
in this column last week, and a study of the
head of a yonng girl.
Mb. George Hetzei, is now painting mid
summer landscapes of the style whkh he is so
well known to favnr, and like many other art
ists, he Is also engaged upon works to be seat
to some of the exhibitions which take place
later in the year. He has nearly completed a
very cleverly executed upright picture of a
characteristic bit of American forest scenery.
Samuel F. B. Morse, the inventor of the
electric telegraph, was at one time studying art,
in London, and he took a drawing be bad made
'to Benjamin West to atk his opinion of It'
westpraiea ana 101a ntm to ioko it noma
and finish It. The yonng student bad thought
it was already as complete is it could be made,
but be rpent another week's work upon It only
to be met with the same advice as before, and
this wa repo ited a number of times until he
gave it np in despair, declaring that he could
carry it no further. This was whit Mr. West
wanted, and illustrated the lesson he desired to
teach. He held that the highest human skill
was Incapable of the tak nf doing justice to
nature, and that an artist should not rest con
tent until he bad exerted all his energies and
exhausted every means to attain his end.
Some years ago art Interest In this vicinity
centered about a few paintings possessed by
our citizens many of them rather indifferently
executed, with occasionally an odd one or so of
somewhat greater merit exhibited for sale.
But little atentioii was paid to art in other
form, and there K perhaps, no more striking
proiif of the material progress made by this
commnnltythan tbeebange tnat has come over
us In this' particular. "o-r every art is called
upon to f n rnl-h for n.S, forms of elegance and
beauty. Bare and " valuable specimens of Na
ture's handiwork are fashioned into ornaments
of pleasing and artistic design. We are now
met upon every hand by the finest examples of
the potters and decorators art, while costly
marbles, splendid brnnzes,art works In various
metals, original works and reproductions of the
art of other days and of races long since passed
away are every day becomiug mure ana more
numerous.
A marine view, by Mr. A. Bryan Wall. which
hung In Gillespie's art gallery last week, is a
decidedly unique and original work. The view
Is taken looking s'raigbt out to sea, over a
beach strewn with boulders half buried in the
sand. In hollows on the beach, among the
rocks, small po.,ls of ware' still remain, reflect
ing the light tone of the sky in striking contrast
to the dark rich green of the vegetation
with which manv of the stones
are more or less covered. Tne beach Itself
where it shows in places left smooth and clean
by the fallen tide also assists the impression of
hardness and solidity conveyed by the scattered
boulders. There is In this work no appearance
nf artificial grouping or arrangement; it has
evidently been painted with truth and fidelity
to nature and the color scheme nf the whole is
both strong and pleasing. 1 he sky. however,
is rather dull and uninteresting, perhaps It was
rendered so purposely with a view or centering
the attention upon other portions of the
picture, but a slight break in Its monotony
would scarcely have injured the general effect.
Before an artist reaches the stage in bis life
at which he produces his best works be will
have spent the better part of a lifetime in the
study and practice nf art, and even then be will
In all probability only be able to do good work
in one particular branch of art, and in all his
picture" there can surely be traced a certain
mannerism or style ol execution which ispecu- -liar
to himself and in a great measure beyond
his control. This being the cafe It need
occasion no surprise it people who have
never stud.ed or even thought abont art
are lacking in the capacity to discriminate be
tween the good, the bad and the indifferent ex
amples of works which require such vast and
slowly acquired knowledge to thoronglv under
stand and appreciate. If it takes time and
labor to make an artist it al-o takes a fair
share of both to make an intelligent art critic,
nr one whose appreciation of the work is ba.ed
upon something more substantial than mere
feeling or haphazard opinion. In any com
munity pnblic opinion, upon this as npon other
matters, requires time to grow, and
It must be given something to feed
upon and to all young and rising cnnimnnitlee
this must be largely brought from without, as
it does not spring Into exigence spontaneously
wherever the need of it is felt, but results from
the labors of various peoples anil many genera
tions. Of late years this want has been in a
great measure upp!ied bv illustrated maga
zines and periodicals. wbicli have resulted from
the wondrous advance m ulein the art of wood
engraving.and the improvements In the various
methods of photographic reproduction. Al
though .to mannerisms and technical differences
is due much of the variety and interest of
art products, they are greatly mis-understood by
the general public and tn some extent by the
artists thenu-elves. Oft n those who may
chance to admire carefulness and elaboration
of finish are proue to condemn works executed
In a broader and more vigorous -tvle as daubs,
and on the other hand, the advocates of the
broader method of handling sometimes fail to
see any virtue In what they con-ucler an unart
istlc, mechanical aud workmanlike degree of
finish. When the master "minds of artmen
who have made the subject a life
study, thus hold such diverse opinions
and occasionally fail to recognize the good in
that which does not appeal to their own ,
Idiosyncrasies and peculiarities, there is little
cause for wonder that the same divergence of
opinion is found among those whose apprecia-
tion for art is mainly based on their innate love
for the beautiful, and whose knowledge of ths
suhj -ct is only such as may be acquiesced m
til leisure moments of a life busily occupied
with otberlntpre.-ts. The whole range of art
Is i-o vast, and comprises such infinite variety
of feeling and method of expression, that
even those who may fairly lay claim
to refinement and to the posses
son of a cultivated taste need not hesitate to
admit that they are incapable of fully appre
ciating the merits of every art work which may
be submitted for their inspection. It Is only in
the more ordinary and common place works
that any greit degree of sameness will be
found: masterpieces are Invariably stamped
with the Indiv duality of the me.n wbo produce
them, and thus t caused as much difference
between pictures as there is between artists.
This being true it of necessity follows that a
fiartlr ular class of works will appeal tn certain
ndivlduals with great force, while they mar
be comparatively blind to the cUlms nf others
of perhaps equal merit. There are certain un
varying features which all good pictures must
possess, since they are lnrobedlenue to the fixed
laws of nature and art. and these every indi
vidual of refined and cultivated taste should
know and understand, out beyond this there la
room for a considerable difference of opinion,
even among persons of Intelligence andednev
tlon.
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