I .. . mm m ii i LSTOI'S COUNTESS 31iat With the Woman "ho Keeps the Eccentric Genius From "Want 3 MAGES THE ESTATE the Count Considers Himself Only a Guest at Her Home. PROPERTY DEEDED TO A BABY. foiT Writing Philosophy and Says Bis KoTels ire Xonsense. HIS TFIFE HIS ELATED FOE HIH soititrsrosrEf cr or the dispatch.! Tula, July 19. T was th: Countess ' Tolstoi who tu speaking: " 'To know all women we must lore and be loved by one.' Tbii was tbe answer in the words of a French writer which my husband gave in reply to the ques tion as to bow he could describe just bow a woman would think, act and ieel any and all circumstances." were sitting about the samovar in the g room of the Count's home at Yasnia ma and were in tbe midst of a long ibout the great Russian novelist The t himself was lar off in the interior, from the railroads, in company with laughter, taking care of tbe sick and starving peasants, and his wife and the er children were on the estate alone. long trip from the lower part s Volga to Moscow I had stopped over rain to pay my respects to the Count, rith Dr. Hubbell, the agent of the Bed , bad been received most kindly by the tess. AVe had walked over apart of the Cmiit To'stoi as Hr Looks To-Pay. e together, had visited the peasants in homes, bad eaten supper around the v table, and now in answer to myques i the Countess was giving me bits of 7 and fact about her husband's intel isl life. Tolstoi Poasn't Talk of Bis Books, 1 lie Count himself," said she, "does not to talk about his novels or bis writings, 1 beg you if you should write to him not enuon that you have been reading his is. He is always enthusiastic while at k. but when the work is finished he is Jsfied with it, and does not want it to - the publisher's. He does not like to about himself, aud it any one persists aking his writings the subject of the rrsation he will often excuse himself leave the room." ut before I write lurther let, me give a lew words about tbe Countess. She 1 my mind quite as interesting a charac a Tolstoi himself, and did she keep a -1 imagine it would rank in its inter ns stories with that of Jane Welsh, the ot that other philosophic genius, mas Carlyle. She has for 30 years been boiler halt of Tolstei's great koul, and is to-day the balance wheel which, as as possible, holds him in check and en keeps him and the family from the ertv ot the ptasauts. A rood wife and nog "ioher, i-he it was that prevented i.Oi selling ai! he had and giving bis .rty to the poor, and she it is who w iauagt-s the estates, attends to the canon of the children, takes care of all details ot her husband's affairs and bis -e, and at the tame time cheerfully and impiainmgiy softens the bard road rn be vouldlay out tor himself and his ily- rote tVIth Bis Wire as tbe Model. he Countess impresses you at first meet as a woman ot remarkable strength of acter. She is tall, nell lormed and fine ing, and thougn she has a son 29 years ler cneeks are still losy, and the gray Sawing the Seed. s hardly begun to show itself in her xuriant dark hair. Her eyes are dark, cht and full of intelligence, and her Jace full of kind feeling. She is a clever con--sationalist, and she speaks English -ntly ith a slight Russian accent. She a womanly woman in every sense of the rd, and the ideals of womanhood as em hed in Tolstoi's best characters are taken m her. Tolstoi's love for her and her e lor him during their 30 years of mar d lite have never been questioned, and studies of women have been made like ben's paintings, with his wife lor his del. During, our conversation I asked the jutess where Toltoi got the character una Karenina, and the Countess'sister, untess Kousminski, replied that it was 'gelv taken Jroni tbe Countess. Madame lito'i then paid: "Yes and no. That is e in part, and again it is not true at alL j n everywhere and nowhere in my hus- d's novels." Ooes the Count write rapidly?" I asked. '1 do not think he can be said to produce v rapidly," was the reply. "He is very - ul as to the character of his writings, ie believes the world would be much r ofl it many of the writers of the ent day would burn their worka in useript. Tha Count Is Great Eeviser. "He holds on to his own works as long as Of possible, and he objects, as a rule, to bavin; them published. He enjoys bii work as he composes, but a great part of the wear and I tear comes in the revision and correction , He revises his writings again and again,and I he never corrects his own manuscript, but 1 'he must have a new copy made for htm on I clean paper. He is not a very legible 1 writer, as von see from his note books, and he writes on all sorts of paper. He picks up anything that comes to hand when a thought strikes him and writes it down upon it. A large part of the two novels 'Anna Karenina,' and 'War and Peace' were written on the backs of envelopes, half sheets of note Eaper torn from short letters, and some of is best thoughts hare been penned on the backs of old pieces of paper upon which the children have been drawing pictures and have thrown away. For this reason it is hard to preserve his manuscripts, and such as we have are stored away in the museum in Moscow. After my husband has written his manuscript it is copied for him. For years I copied again and again everything he wrote and now my daughters do it for him. I can't tell you how many times I copied parts of the novel 'War and Peace' tor revision and re-revision, bnt I know I copied the completed story seven times before it was brought into the state in which it went to the printers." ' "Does he ever speak of fhe 'Kreutzer Sonata,' and is he, as has been reported, writing a sequel to it?" Tired ot the Kreulsr Sonata. "Xo," replied Count Tolstoi's wife, "be has no intention of writing anything more along those lines. He said to me, speaking of the 'Kreutzer Sonata, not long aeo: 'Please don't mention that disgusting story again; I am sick of hearing about it.' I don't think he will write another novel. He is devoting himself to philosophical essays upon his peculiar ideas of what society and life should be, and he regards fiction as nonsense and folly. He is now workinr on a lame treatise against war and in favor of nationalizing society and Gov ernment. He is a totally difierent man now." "Then there arc two Tolstois?" said L "Two?" replied the Countess. 'There are not only two; there are a hundreJ. The Count changes every day, and you can never tell what he will be next. He is earnest aud honest in his beliefs, and be is almost forced to do what he thinks to be right, "Of late vears, however, he has been more tolerant. He thinks we are wrong, but he permits us to lead our life, and be leads bis, conforming as much as he can to ours. There are many-things I would change if I could, but I must do what is best for him and for us." These words were not uttered in a com plaining tone, but merely as a niattei of fact about a condition that must be made tbe best ot. Pecutiarites or the Count. As the Countess said then, I thought that there were lew American wives who were truer and kinder to their husbands and their families than she was, and this fast became the more apparent as she went on to describe some curious features of tbe Count's present life. Everyone has heard A SSAr-SHOl AT THE of his thousand idiosyncracies; how he be lieves every man should work enough with his hands every day to supply bis neces sities; how be makes his own boots, and how he would, if his wife would let him, make his own clothes! You have read how he lives on the simplest of vegetable food; how he wears the garb of a peasant, and gives without stint to all who ask alms! You have heard how he objects to man using force against man under any con ditions, and how he could not conscien tiously resist if himself or his family were assaulted. He pays uo attention to his estates, and the management of tneni and the education and training of his children are entirely left to his wife. She has hun dreds ot peasants on the estate to look alter, and with her family of nine children she has, I judge, all she can do to make both ends meet. Tbat she does make tbem meet is only due to a remarkable executive ability and not to the literary work of the Count. 1 asked the Countess to tell me if it was reallv so that Tolstoi would accept nothing for his works. She replied that it was true, and tbat be had accepted nothing from his publishers for years. "He does not think an author has any right to accept money lor tbe products of bis brain," said she, "and J the only money we have had for a long time , Irom his writings came from a comedy en titled 'The Fruits of Civilization,' which bad quite a run in the theaters of Bussia last season. He bad relinquished his royal ties to this to the Government, and these amounted during tbat time to 6,000 rnbles, or about $3,000. , The Proceeds for Tamlne SnSererg. "During the present famine it seemed to me to be a shame that our peasants should be starving aud that this money which we could use so well should be kept by the Gov ernment. So I wrote to the Government officers in charge of it asking tbem to let me have it for the famine. Tbey replied that I could have it if I would promise that every bit ot it should be used for the famine, and thus I got it." "Has Count Tolstoi ever gotten any money from his American sales?" I asked. "Hun dreds of thousands of his books have been sold there." "Yes," replied the Countess, "there was once sent to us from America a check for f400, and this is the only money we hare ever received for any of the Count's books sold outside of Bussia. I did not think it best to send back the $400 and I gave It to tbe poor among my peasants. I do not agree with my husband about the receipts from his books, and if he thought differently concerning them we wonld have enough money and to spare. If we received a sin gle kopeck (about one-half a cent) from each copy of his books tbat have been sold we would be very rich. As it Is, we are poor. 2Tot poor, ot course, like our peas ants, but poor for our condition in lite. My sons have to work on their estates, and in Moscow we are not rich enough to keep a carriage. We could do much good with A. Disciple of the Genius. : '"""" ' THIS PTITSBtrRG piSPATOH, SUNDAY. JTJLV at '',1898. ' ' ' : ' - ' " ' -" - lTrV Wpf ' A New jjjjrv-' Andante moderate. if 11 j I j a f pBifeEfeiiip il j j jj, j xsn ILL J Ml- ,. Urn ton ' and team And the glow of the. fire, with its fit - . fnl light, Soft il-lum-ines the vale of years. And this S? In I m not 7i But the 3eaT heart tale she so sweet - - ly Wld Is as flam as tbe sua to me; And I nlgff of Sd . night "me. Ana a man - tie of grief was a-bout me cast When a head - stone.... bore her name. And uu- il . f . m J jgliplii H 1 1 -J N SaxiH : ,,. -i " 1 -J- J 1 , jy if - 3S! days song eye of she with a yore, tang, tenr, the money among our poor if we had it, but the Count thinks it is not right He would not feel happy if we took it, and anything is better than discontent and trouble in one's family." The Cur's Opinion of Tolttol. "How does the Emperor regard Count Tolstoi?" I asked. "He considers him honest and earnest in his beliefs and in his life. He does not look upon him as a revolutionist, and he has told the Government officials that the Connt is an honest man and they must not disturb him. Many of the officials do not like my husband, and they think he is entirely too liberal in his actions and in his books." They were selling at the rate of from TOLSTOI PEASANTS. 4,000,000 to 5,000,000 a year, and tbeir sale was rapidly gaining up to a short time ago, when, as Countess Tolstoi tells me, the Government stopped their circulation. She does not think the Government is anxious to educate the peasants, and she says that the peasants' school which had been estab lished on the estate and which was taught Iit her daughter had been closed by the ler of the police. "No, I think not," was tbe reply. "They take advantage of his good naturet and I can do nothing with them. They choose the best places for tbe grazing ot their own stock. They do as little as they please and take what they please from us. I may ob ject, but they say, 'Oh. the Connt will not do anything to us,' and the result is the es tate is very hard to mansge. It has been deeded over to our youngest son (a boy about 4), as is the custom as to the family estate or homestead in Bussia, and I am his guardian. The Count Tolstoi was the youngest son of his father, and in this way the estate came to him. The IV If Chose the 'Wiser Coarse. Chatting in this way we walked oyer the village, then visited the gardens where the Countess raises all sorts of fruits and vege- tables for her family, and after walking through a magnificent forest along paths shaded by tall birch trees whose beauty re minded me of tbe famous cryptomeria trees which line the road to the shines at Nikko, Japan, we found our way back to the house. The Tolstoi estate contains about 2,500 acres of arable land and forest, and its woodi are wild, romantic and beautiful. It was given to Tolstoi's grandfather by Catherine II. as a reward for bis military services, and though not a large estate for Bussia it is a very fine pi see of property. As it is to day Tolstoi resides upon it rather as the guest of his family than as its owner. He would sell it to-day if his wife would con sent and give the proceeds to the poor, and as tbe wise wile and good mother that she is refuses to do this be has washed his hands, as it were, -of all responsibility concerning it, and its care devolves entirely upon her. His action in wishing to girenp his prop erty was undoubtedly dne to a sense of duty. Hers in insisting upon keeping him, her family and herself from dirt, poverty and starvation was also from the action of the same sense, and as we drove In a rude droschky through the moonlit forest to the taain last night I could not but think that of the two she has chosen the nobler and the better part Her lite as it is can hardly be one of rest and roses, and her sacrifices, cheerfully made, thougn they do not in clude the wearing of sackcloth and ashes, are to my mind greater than hit. Tolstoi ii giving up much for his own ideas. His wife is giving up all for him. Fsaitx G. Carpsxtzs. Fbhmiuks paokeel and stored. Hauoh A Kaxsi.1t.a3 Watexstraot. 1 , wan . . . I THE LETTER Ballad Composed by Stephen Massett. Twas the In the Tbe let-tcr let-ter let-ter that made that made that made her her her mine; mine; mine; ASCENSION'S LESSON. Why the ApostleB Were Deprived of s the Savior's Visible Presence. THE LOCALIZATION OF WORSHIP. Without Tangible Personality the Everywhere Manifest, Spirit SEEM0X BI THE BET. GE0EGE HODGES rwniTTXif ron thx ptsrATcn.l It was best for the apostles, and through them, lor ns, that Christ shonld go away. His ascension was for our advantage. This, he declared plainly; "It is expedient for yon that I go away." The apostles found it hard to believe that. At the thought of Christ's departure sorrow filled their hearts. We, too, find that a hard saying. We are accustomed to ac count the' apostles to have been more highly favored than we are, because tbey touched tbe hands of Christ and heard his voice and had the blessing of his visible presence. How, indeed, could anything be better than that! To walk with him who is the Way, to learn of him who is the Truth, to live with him who is the Life what a privilege un speakable! Think of it only in its relations to truth. How many uncertainties seem to come in between us and real knowledge of religion! It is true we have the Bible. We have the record which Matthew and Mark and Luke and John made. They said that Christ said this and that. But the words come to us, at best, at second band. And then there are The Critics and the Commentators. And the critics discuss the authorship of these old histories, whether Matthew and Mark and Luke and John really wrote them or not, some saying "yes" and some "no." And tbe commentators debate the meaning of the words, some holding that tbeir inter pretation represents what Jesus really taught, and others denying it, and offering quite a different interpretation. Aud in the midst of these contradictory voices, what wonder is it that we grow confused, and Christ seems very far away, and the teachings of Christ very uncertaiu? We look back to that old day when Jesus spoke to men at first hand, w'hen there were no critlec and no commentators, and men could see with their own eyes, and hear with their own ears, and ask questions and get an swers; and we think that they had a better chance in Capernaum than we have in Pittsburg, to know the truth of God. What did Jesus mean when he said, It is expedi ent for-you that J go away? We d'o not seem at first to get much sat isfaction from the explanation which he gave ot the advantage of his ascension. For If I go not away the Comforter will not come unto you; blp if I depart, I will send him unto von. We understand, of course, that the Comforter is the Holy Spirit. But the vaguest part of our common theology is that which concerns the Holy Spirit. God the Father, we are able to think of; and God the Son, we know; but what ideas have we about God the Holy Ghost? We are a little wiser than the people in Fphesus, who had not even heard whether there be any Holy Ghost; but beyond that, what shall we say? The Seea and th Tnsoen. At least, we know this; that Christ could be seen, and. the Holy Ghost cannot be seen; Christ spoke in a voioe that men could hear, but the voice of the Holy Ghost is mingled indistiagulshably with the voioe of our own heart. Perhaps the truest thought that we think about tbe Holy Ghost is that the Holy Ghost is God speaking in man's con science. But what a vague thought that is! Christ goes away and the Holy Spirit comes in his place; the visible is changed for the invisible, the audible for the inaudible, certainty becomes uncertainty. If we had Ohrist here to speak, we wonld know what he aaid; but we cannot be sure what the Holy Ghost lays. And yet it is expedient that Christ should go away. How oan tbat be? We know, of course, that in all instruc tion there is need, from time to time, of a change ot teachers. Sometimes because we have outgrown the teacher, and have learned his truth; sometimes became we THAT MADE HER MINE. . , ' f 1. I'm 2. It 3. Tbey 'Twas the pride of my soul I can al most re -cull I will keep, though it dims in the days ev-'ry song my eye have become accustomed to his way of teaching, so that his truth, though we may not have learned the whole of it, makes less impression upon ns. Thus the parish grows weary ot the parson. God is atways changing our instructors. He teaches us by the lips of men who have their day, and give their message, and for an hour take the great class of tbe race, and then the bell rings and the teacher's time is done. The philosophers, the saints, tbe preachers, the poets, 'the politicians, the soldiers take their turn at teaching us. And "God fulfills himself in. many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world." : Could Not Understand Bis Kntarn. It may be that Jesus felt that the apostles had been taught long enough in the lessons of his visible presence, 'and tbat it would be expedient to teach them now in the different lessons of his invisible presence. For Christ is the pre-emineut teacher. There is no danger that we will ever grow weary of Christ, nor is their any likelihood that we will learn the whole of the truth of Christ. But Christ, Knowing our need of change, changes his ways of teaching. It is true that he said that he was going away, but he said also tbat he was coming back again. "A little while," he promised them, "and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father." They could not understand that, but they came to know by aud by that It was Christ's assurauoe of continual and never-ending abiding with them. He went away that be might return in another form, and thenceforth be closer to them than ever. The Comforter then, whom we call the Holy Ghost, is really the abiding Christ; the Spirit is the spirit of Jesus. Tbe as cension was the beginning of a new and better way of spiritual teaching. We can see that, in this sense, it was expedient for us that he should go away. Faith In Better Than Sight. We know also that there is a difference between faith and sight. Faith is better than sight. "Because thou hast seen me thou hast believed." Christ said to Thomas: "Blessed are tbey that have not seen and yet have believed." Faith is better than sight, because it is rarer, and more difficult, . and depends upon the action of higher faculties ot our nature. It is difierent from sight very much as writ ing poetry is difierent from sawing wood. Anybody with a fair measure of strength of body can saw wood. And anybody with eyes can see. Sight does not depend on wisdom. But a brain and a heart go to the making of a poem. And a brain and a heart are needed in the right recitation of a creed. Sight is the recognizing of the out side of the visible part of an event. Christ heals the sick, and all who stand about Him see the miracle, and thus have sight. But they who have faith see Christ, and have no need of a miracle to point, Him out, nor to tell them that He is wise, that He is wonderful, that He is divine. Faith is the recognition of Christ without the help of sight at all To-day, though the face and form ot Jesus are altogether invisible, the believer, absolutely without a glimmer of sight, recognizes Him, put his faith in Him and loves Him. Depends on Spiritual Faculties. Sight is a recognition of the face; faith is a recognitiou of the heart. The highest kind of recognition is the recognition of personality, of character, of the real self, of the heart. And that depends on spiritual faculties. To knortt a good man when we meet him is an achievement which cannot be accomplished unless we have some de gree of spiritual kinship with him. Only thegood can really know the good. Faith, accordingly, depends on character, and therein is immeasurably superior to sight, which depends on nothiug but good eyes. Thus Christ went out ot the sight "ot His disoiples that they might have opportunity for the exercise of the hlghet kind of faith. We can see tbat, in this sense also, it was expedient for us that He should go away. These two advantages of Christ's ascension the change from a visible to an invisible teacher aud from sight-to faith, are still further realized when we understand that the ascension made universality possible and infallibility impossible in Christ's re ligion. So long as Jesus walked and taught in visible form in Galilee the Christian re- Sigion was localized. It was centered where e stood. During His ministry His teaching never reached beyond the boundaries 01 Syria. It was only alter the ascension that the disciples went out, at his command, to teach all nations. The Localization of Worship. He set himself, indeed, against the locali zation of worship. He told the Samaritan woman tbat neither in Samaria nor in'Judea was the nearest place of approach to God, out that God is a spirit, and whoever any Words by Clay M. Green. Andante moderate, cm etprett. It is vel ware bap ting a lone low and dim, py, those years with the and the of the past ink dear of she with a yore, Twas the sang In the tear, The let ter let - ter let - ter that made that made that made her her her where addresses Him in spirit aud in truth speaks to God present And He said that wherever two or three were gathered to getherin His name there He would be in tbe midst of them. He taught the universality of the divine presence, of the divine atten tion to the voice of prayer, of the divine love. Nevertheless, while He lived our Hfe, it was impossible tor the disciple" to realize that. Where He was, God was. When they were in His visible presence they were nearer to Him than when they were away doing his will So He taught them during the days after the resurrection to be expect ant of His presence on all occasions. As tbey walked along the road, or climbed the hill, or sat in the upper room, or cast the net Into the sea, they knew not at what mo ment He might stand among them. They began to feel His presence with them every where. And then He ascended into heaven, leaving a blessing and a promise which tbey were now ready to receive, "Lo, I am with you always." The Ever Present Spirit. After that they went about carrying His message and the Lord v as with them. He was at thersame time with Peter at Joppa and with James at Jerusalem; He was present with Barnabas at Antiouh and with Paul at Borne. Wherever they journeyed in His service, even the whole world over, He was with them. Christ is here with us to-day; it would be hard to believe that if He were still visibly resident at Capernaum, He would seem to belong ever so much more to the disciples in Syria than to the disciples in Pittsburg. Thus the spiritual presence of the Master brings a wider blessing than His bodily presence could have brought The ascension into heaven made universality possible in Christ's religion. He went away from the little company of people on the ascension hill that He might come back again to all ot us and abide with us forever. It was, indeed, expedient for us that He should go away. It was a good thing to have universality thus made possible; it was also a good thing to have infallibility made impossible. Absolute infallibility is always, aud in the nature of things, impossible. An in fallible teacher is not infallible for ns un less we are infallible learners. An infal lible book is not Infallible for us unless we are infallible readers. For infallibility means the total labsence of mistake. And while human nature continues as it is, we are all going to make mistakes. He Never Compelled Acceptance. It is a sufficient definition of infallibility, however, to say that it is that characteristic of a statement which, when it is present, compels acceptance. When the voice ot in fallibility is heard we must believe. Now, Christ never compelled acceptance. He was tbe only infallible teacher thatever lived. When He spoke, He spoke the truth. And yet, it is remarkable in His teachings that He hatitually retrained from layinsr obligations upon men's thinking. He came not to make us slaves, even in our minds, but to set us spiritually free. What He said put no barrier across the path of thought; on the contrary His words inspired and stimulated thinking. His utterance was not the end but the beginning ot the truth. Neither did He compel men to be lieve; instead of that, He always left a pos sibility for doubt, if a man would. So that faith might be the real voice of the man. "How long dost thou bold us in suspense?" they asked him; "if thou -art the Christ tell us plainly." But so lar removed from plainness was His answer that, after all His public teaching, when He was accused be lore the high priest of blasphemy, no two witnesses agreed together. Most Do Their Own Thinklnp. It was Inevitable, however, that the disciples should have been greatly de pendent upon their Master. While He-was visibly present with them, He was such a supreme and ultimate authority that, of necessity, they let Him do their thinking for tbem. While He lived among them they had in tbeir company tbe voice of in fallibility. And He knew that that was not good for them. God wants us to do our own thinking. He wants us to recognize and accept truth for ourselves, because we find it trne, not because some infallible voice tells us. We are all the time trying to escape from this divine task of thinking. We are in search of an infallible church, or of an infallible book, or of an infallible statement ot theo logical truth, which we may accept and thereafter think no more about it But we can no more transfer to others the duty of thinking than we can the duty ot praying. To point to the church or to the Bible, or to a Confession of Faith, and say, "This is what Z believe, " is not belief. Not to Compel but to Inspire Faith. into all faith mutt enter an untrammeled W I to-night, is old, eld past, With its There are Till the mine, mine, mine. will, a personal and genuine recognition of the truth made without compulsion. The work of the church, of the Bible, of the creed is not to compel faith but to inspire it, not to put a stop to thinking, but to makens thiuk. Faith is recognition. It must be free or it is not faith. The believer recognizes the truth of God, as the musician recognizes the beauty of music. He must not have compulsion put upon him. He must recognize it for himself. Thus Christ chose to teach us, not any longer with the voice of external authority, livin? in our sight and speaking in our hearing, but rather with the voice which we hear in the heart, not compelling but in spiring taith. He ascended into heaven for onr advan tage. He made himself absent in the body that be might be present everywhere in the heart He went away out of our sight that he might set us tree from all compulsion ot Infallibility and be the better recognized by faith. It" was expedient for ns that he should go away. George Hodges. SOUKS OF A SUNBEAM. Curious Experiments That Have tately Been Brought to Ll;ht. Pearson's 'WeeKlr.l One of the most wonderful discoveries in science that has been made within the last year or two is the fact that a beam of light produces sound. Abeam of sunlight is thrown throush a lens on a glass vessel that contains lampblack, colored silk or worsted, or other substances. A disc having silts or openings cut in it Is made to revolve swiftly in this beam of light so as to cut it up, thus making alternate Cashes of light and shadow. On putting the ear to the glass vessel strange sounds are heard so long as the flashing beam is falling on the vessel. Be cently a more wonderful discovery has been made. A beam of sunlight is caused to pass through a prism, so as to produce what is called the solar spectrum or riinbow. The disc is turned, and the colored light of the rainbow is made to break through it Now place the ear to the vessel contain ing the silk, wood or other material. As the colored lights oi the spectrum fall upon It, sounds will be given by different parts of the spectrum, and there will be silence in other parts. For instance, if the vessel containes red worsted, and the gicen light Hashes upon it, loud sounds will be given. Only feeble sounds will be heard if the red and blue parts of the rainbow fall upon the vessel, and other colors make no sound at alt Green silk gives sound best in a red light Every kink of material gives more or less sound in different colors, and utters no sound in others. A BATHES CUSIOUS EAILWAT. It Is Xot Absolutely Lonr, bnt Runs in Many Funny Zig-Zags. Pearson's Weekly. J There are few more interesting engineer ing achievements than the little narrow gauge railroad running to Caracas, the cap ital of Venezuela, from its sea port, La Guayra. The distance between the two' cities, as the crow flies supposing for the moment that he could fly through mount ainsIs only six miles; but the railway connecting them is 23 miles in length, and constantly twists and turns on itself. The roil runs in zig-zag fashion up the mountain to an altitude of about fi.000 feet above its starting point and then descends some 1,500 feet in che same manner into the Valley of Caracas. Twenty-two thousand rails were used in layiug tho track, and of these over 18,000 are bent It is jestingly said that the en gineer almost died of a broken heart because he could invent no excuse for pending tbe remaining tour thousand. He did his best, however, and no one who has to ride over the line, and finds himself shaken at every one ot the three hundred and forty-six sharp twists which the track makes, will find it in his heart to condemn the poor man for not making a perfect job. Two passenger trains pass over the road daily, leaving La Guyra at half-past eight in the morning and at half-past three in the afternoon, making the journey in two hours and a halt This is a speed, exclnsive ot stops, or not quite ten miles an hour. Axgosiusa. Bitten, the celebrated ap petizer, is used all over the world. FonHiTtrai reupholstered and repaired. Hacok S, Kxxxur, 33 Water street v wan AN ELECTRIC WORLD. .. . Professor Thomson Paints a Prettj Picture of 25 Years Hence, t SNAP-SHOTS OF PETTY THIEVES. Lightning Makes a Ship Magnetic, Spoiling! the Compasses. 1 LINEMAS'S PB0F1T OS SPAEE0W3 twairrxJt ron thx dispatch.! Mankind generally has come to recogniz the wisdom of the injunction "Never prophesy nnless you know." It is about as difficult to say where electrical develop ments are going to lead to within the next 25 years as to map out the future of any other science, but Prof. Elihu Thomson has; undertaken in a general way to show what, at all events, the probabilities are in the electrical field. Prof. Thomson stands so high as an) electrical expert that his opinions ar i en titled to the highest respect He confine himself mainly to the possible advances in. the practical applications of electric energy in the arts and industries. He looks for no great revolution in future telegraph prog ress, although tbe more general introduc tion of multiplex systems will Increase tho capacity of tbe lines and decrease tno -cosE of operation, and more attention will bo paid to permanence of lines and to securing immunity from extended interruption from storms. Signaling or telegraphing wlthont wires has already been attempted, and although It has cot yet gone beyond tho tentative stage, so far as- practical results go, electricians are not without some nope tbat It may presently be accomplished, at all events lor moderate distances, and even through dense fng. The inestimable valna of sucn an Invention to the mariner Is ap parent As to telephoning across ocean cables, while the boldest man cannot, in view of tho marvellous development that have already taken place in telephony, say that it is Im possible, Prof. Thomson holds thattherearo cogent reasons tor recognizing tbe Impracti cability of telephonic transmission through cables ot great length. In electric lighting Prof. Thomson ventures no opinion as re gards the possible superseding of the Incan- , descent Hunt by the '-lesla clow," or as to the electric lighting of houses without wires, but believes in a constant and rapid future dnvelopment ot the present modes of illumination by tne arc and tbe incandescent lamp. la view of tbe fact that in obtaining power from fuel by means ot steam engmes up ward of 90 per cent is wasted in unused beat, while the power obtainable for tue represents scarcely more than 10 ptr cent of the real value of the fuel unaer the very best conditions, tbe discovery of a not too complex method or realizing an economy of even 13 or SO per cent of the energy valne of fuel wonld have an almost Incalculable effect on general industrial and economlo development In electricity, and the steum engine would go out or use almost entirely. Electrical engineers have no rcison to doubt the possibility of the transmission of currents of electricity at high pressures to distances far beyond anything yet at tempted. Electrical farms wilt soon be looked upon as a matter or course, and early electrical vesetables will be a source of per ennial delight to the epicure. Zlecrricity may possibly be enlisted in the delivery ot mankind from the scourge of the mosqnlto and in tbe destruction of bacteria or mi crobes, now so fatal to auimal and vegeta ble life. The electric current will play an absorbing part lit the practice of physicians, and will revolutionize honsekoepiiig by its adaptation to domestic use. The day when nations snail war no mors will be materially hatened by tho develop ment of the appalling possibilities of elec tricity In naval and military practice, and the same asenoy is destined to be an all Dervadlug influence in enabling man to subordinate the forces of nature to bis wilt An E:ctricl Detectlv. A clever piece of detective work; which must appeal with sad and crushing sngges tiveness to the crook fraternity, has been done In Toledo. A barber for some time mUaed clears from the case in bis shop. As first only a few cigars were taken-ou prASa, ently tho thieves becam-botilrand took wbole boxes. A watch, was vet and deteo tlvns were employed, bat all in vain. At last the barber struck on tho idea of having an automatic detector fixed in the shop and he called in an electrician. A camera was arranged so as to cover the cUar case, and a flashlight apparatus and the camera were connected by wires with the slid ing door "or the cigir case, so that when, the door was opend tha wires would bo brourfbt together. Tne circuit thus lormed would produce a flash and se cure Instantaneously a picture of the thieve. For 12 days the cigars were unmo lested, bnt on the morning otthe unlucky thirteentn tho thieves were prompted to try tnelr band again. The plate was taken from the camera anil developed, and on It was seen a unique and interesting picture, containing the likenesses or two Juveniles who were in the act of stealing tne cigar Every detail in the shop was distinctly seen; the clock showing the time at which tbe youngstere' little operations were interrered with, and the mixture of cunning and cau tion on the face of the boy who was evi dently taking the active part in seenrini the booty was intensely amusing. The boj were at once recoznize.l, were arrested.tried and sent to a reformatory, and the Judgo commended from the bench the ingenuity of the means or detection employed. This is the second 'detector' pioture that has been made in Toledo. About a year ago a negro was photographed in the same way wbile trying to rob an office. Controlled tbs Compwi. Tbe master of a steel steamer has had a probably unparalleled experience while In a storm in latitude 2S.12 north, longitude 70.50 east. Tho steamer had two ma9t, the lower masts being far iron and the top masts of wood. The steel wire rigging (served over) was can led to within about three tees of the tiucks, and there was no special ightning conductor flitod. A very vivid flash of lightning splintered the foretopmas near the split and scattered spams and lira over the ship. The shock also affected the compasses; that on the upper bridge was deflected from N. 72 W. to X. 15 W., and so remained for a short time. The wheelhouso compass, which bad previously shown W. K. W., now showed E. S. E., and the compass on the poop also exhioited a considerable varia tion. When another compass card was triett in the wheolhouse it was found that the shock had so changed the magnetism of tha ship that the card was reversed. Tha westerly deviation of the upper bridge com pass was increased V . to 19 XT. steered, on the course (N. 7- W.) In a few hours the ship was swung completely around, and a change in the errors of the compass be came manifest- Tho deviation on tue north was nltered from C ST. to 27 IV.. and the. wheelhouse had regained some of its original power as the north point again approxi mated toward tho north. Since the occurr ence the corapasse have never regained their original errors, and tho magnets have, had to be removed, and In soma cases re versed, to reduce the errors and make a fairly accurate reckoning possible. Ha Kills Sparrows. Tbe English sparrow is not liked in Kalamazoo, and the decided feeling against him is indicated by the faot that the people would rather by 5 cents see a dead sparrow than a live one. The lineman who looks after the lights of the city Is "now availing himself diligently or tho benefits of this bounty .and be has so supplemented his ordi nary pay by the destruction of "English men" tbat lie is inclined to believe the very best sparrow trap in existence is an aro lamp. The birds make tbeir nets in the lamps, and after the eggs are laid the line man keeps a close watch on it. Justberpra the young birds are folly fledged he pinches their heads and realizes on them. One day last week be brought in 141, and last year bis "side Hue" brought him 70. An Electric Advertising Cart. Tbe tendency to use tbe electric light for advertising purposes has been steadily growing, and no more striking example of Its effectiveness, bas been seen thau tha huge "Corbin" sign, 63x60 feet, which at Twenty-third street and Broadway, New York, vaunts tha attractions or the Long Island seaboard for resldental purposes la letters outlined by lamps of many color. Tha latest Idea in this direction in England Is an olectrio cart which during the day cat ries flaming placards tnrougn tne street, wbile at night its advertisement taJn M form of colored lamps. . , - I Hi
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers