FEBRUARY 13, 1897. READINGS FROM AMERICAN MAGAZINES. From Harper's Magazine. THE CZARINA'S CORONATION. Nothing in the whole drama of the morning presented so impressive a picture as did the young empress when she first entered the chapel and stood before her throne. Of all the women there she was the most simply robed, and of all the women there she was by far the most beautiful. A single string of pearls was her only ornament, and her hair, which was worn like that of a Russian peasant girl, fell in two long plaits over her bare shoulders-bare even of a strap, of a bow, of a jeweland her robe of white and silver was as simple as that of a child going to her first communion. As she stepped upon the dais the color in her cheeks was high, and her eyes were filled with that shyness or melancholy which her pic、 tures have made familiar; and in contrast with the tiaras and plumes and necklaces of the ladies of the court surrounding her, she looked more like Iphigenia going to the sacrifice than the queen of the most powerful empire in the world waiting to be crowned. The most interesting part of the ceremony, to my mind, was when the czar changed from a bareheaded young offi、 cer in a colonel's uniform, with his trousers stuck in his boots, to an emperor in the most magnificent robes an emperor could assume; and when the czarina followed him, and from the peasant girl became a queen, with the majesty of a queen, and with the personal beauty which the queens of our day seem to have lost. When the moment had arrived for this transformation to take place, the czar's uncle, the Grand-Duke Vladimir, and his younger brother Alexander lifted the collars of the different orders from the czar's shoulders, but in doing this the GrandDuke Vladimir let one of the stars fall, 659 LIVING AGE. VOL. XIII. which seemed to hold a superstitious interest for both of them. They then fastened upon his shoulders the imperial mantle of gold cloth, which is some fifteen feet in length, with a cape of ermine, and covered with the double eagle of Russia in black enamel and precious stones. Over this they placed the broad diamond collar of St. Andrew, which sank into the bed of snowy white fur, and lay glimmering and flashing as the emperor moved forward to take the imperial diadem from the hands of the Metropolitan of St. Petersburg. The crown was a marvellous thing, fashioned in two halves to typify the eastern and western kingdoms, formed entirely of white diamonds, and surmounted by a great glowing ruby, above which was a diamond cross. The czar lifted this flashing globe of flame and light high above him, and then lowered it to his head, and took the sceptre in his right hand and the globe in the left. From where I stood I could see their faces only in profile, but when the czar seated himself upon the throne, the czarina turned and raised her eyes questioningly; and then, in answer to some sign he made her, she stood up and walked to a place in front of him, and sank down upon her knees at his feet, with her bare hands clasped before her. He rested his crown for an instant on her brow, and then replacing it upon his own head, lowered a smaller crown of diamonds upon hers. Three ladies-in-waiting fastened it to her hair with long gold hair-pins, the czar watching them as they did so with the deepest interest; and then, as they retired, two of the grand-dukes placed a mantle similar to the czar's upon her shoulders, and hung another diamond collar upon the ermine of her cape, and she stepped congratulations, to turn her cheek to back to her throne of ivory, and he to his throne of turquoise. The supreme moment had come and gone, and Nicholas II. and Alexandria Feodorovna sat crowned before the nations of the world. Some one made a signal through the open door, and the diplomats on the tribunes outside rose to their feet and the crush of moujiks below them sank on their knees, and the regiments of young peasant soldiers flung their guns at salute, and the bells of the churches carried the news over the heads of the kneeling thousands across the walls of the Kremlin to where one hundred and one cannon hurled it on across the river and up to the highest hill of Moscow, where the modern messengers of good and evil began to tick it out to Odessa, to Constantinople, to Berlin, to Paris, to the rocky coast at Penzance, where it slipped into the and hurried on under the ocean to the illuminated glass face in the Cable Company's tall building on Broadway, and from there to Port Darien and Yokohama, until the world had been circled, and the answering congratulations came pouring into Moscow while the young emperor still stood under the dome of the little chapel. sea the czarina to kiss in return. The same ceremony was required for the dowager empress as for the czarina. It does not sound difficult, but not more than six out of a hundred did what they had been told to do, and each of them hurried through with it as quickly as possible, and with an expression of countenance that betokened anything rather than smiling congratulations. For from their point of view all their little world was looking on at them, all their princely cousins and kingly nephews and royal uncles and aunts were standing by to see, and for the brief moment in which each passed across the platform, and most unwillingly held the centre of the stage, he felt that the whole of Europe was considering his appearance, and criticising his bow, and counting the number of times he kissed in return. The Duke of Connaught, being the czarina's uncle, was the only man who kissed her; and the Prince of Naples, the heir to the throne of Italy, did not even kiss the czar, but gave each of them a hand timidly, and then backed away as though he were afraid they would kiss him in spite of himself. Some of the royalties, in their embarrassment, assumed a most severe and disapproving air, as did the queen of Greece, a very handsome woman in fur, who, in contrast to the simpers of the others, and in order to show how self-possessed scowled at the young couple like Lady Macbeth in the sleep-walking scene. Others looked as though they were saying good-night to their hostess, and assuring her that they had had a very pleasant evening, but a few were deeply moved, and kissed the czar's diamond collar as a sign of fealty, and some of the Russian nobles bowed very low, and then kissed the czarina's bare shoulder. she was, After the congratulations, the ceremony was continued by the priests alone, who chanted and prayed for nearly two hours, during which time the czar and czarina took but little part in the service beyond crossing themselves at certain intervals. The stead, she looked like a bride upon her strain became very great; it was impossible to keep one's attention fixed on the strange music of the choir or on the unfamiliar chanting of the priests, and people began to whisper to one another, until at the end of the ceremony almost every one was whispering as though he were at an after noon tea. It was not that there was any disrespect felt, but that it had become physically impossible, after six hours of silence and of remaining wedged in an upright position in one place, to maintain an attentive attitude of either mind or body. But the priests ceased at last, aud the most solemn ceremony of the chrismation was reached, and 'the czar passed from sight through the jewelled door of the screen, while his young wife, who could not enter with him, waited, praying for him beside the picture of the Virgin. When he came forth again the tears were streaming down his cheeks and beard, and he bent and kissed the empress like a man in a dream, as though during the brief space in which he had stood in the holy of holies he had been face to face with the mysteries world. of another That was the end of the ceremony of the coronation, and let us hope it will be a long time before there will be another one. In looking back at it now, it seems to me that what made it most impressive was the youth of the czar and czarina. There was something in the sweet girlishness of her manner and of the dauntlessness of the boy in his, that gave them both an inexpressible hold upon your interest and your sympathy. It was not as though they had been looking forward to this hour for many years, until it had lost its first meaning and was now the payment for a long period of apprenticeship, until it had been lived so often in anticipa tion that when it came it was only a form. It was not as though he had grown cynical and stout, and she greyhaired and hardened to it all; but, in wedding day, and you could see in his From Scribner's Magazine. THE END OF FEUDALISM IN ENGLAND. Nothing is farther from the truth than the notion that Richard III. was unpopular with the masses of the people. He had never injured them, and they did not care how many nobles or princes he put to death. There is no evidence that there was any popular uprising against Richard at any time, but on the contrary, all the evidence we have shows that he was supported and liked by the people, especially in the north, where he was best known. This was but natural. Richard represented law, order, and authority. All his legislation was for the benefit of the people, and they knew it. Their enemies and his were the same, and they knew that too. Yet it is true Richard was hated. Fabyan records that there were mutterings against him on the very day of his coronation, but the men who muttered thus under their breath, according to the old chronicler, were the nobles, not the people. Now we come to the real un popularity of Richard. He was hated by the classes, not by the masses. The nobles who had opposed him hated him because he had beaten them; those who had supported him, because they found a master when they intended to have a puppet. All classes of the nobility soon grew to hate him with a common and bitter hatred, because they recognized in him the enemy of their order and saw that every move he made tended to destroy their power. He was fighting the battle of crown and people against the feudal system of petty tyrants, and the nobles, who saw political and military ruin advancing upon them, rose against the king who led the march. They raised a rebellion under Buckingham and failed. They took breath, set up a claimant to the throne, supplied him with forces, and then, by treachery, wrecked the royal army at Bosworth, and slew their foe. It was their last effort; they were exhausted and, although they had changed kings, they had not changed royalty or checked the movement of the time. The feudal system fell at Bosworth with the king who had given it its death-blow and marked out the road for his successor to follow. It is here we come on the real importance of Richard III., when we find him a part of the great movement of the time, and leading the real forces which make history. If Richard's character as a man were all, it would not be more than a matter of curiosity to inquire into the truth concerning him. But behind this personal question there rises one of real importance, which has just been indicated, and to which those who have written upon him have given but little attention. On this side we are no longer dealing with doubtful or prejudiced chroniclers, no longer delving in dark corners whence the best issue is a probability. Here we come out into the broad light of day, where our authorities are the unquestioned witnesses of laws and state records, which tell us nothing of persons but much of things. In them, as we have seen, a strong consistent policy is disclosed, and that policy reveals to us the great social and political change then in progress. It was the period when an old order of life was dying and a new one was being born. The great feudal system of England was drawing to its unlamented close. It had worked out its destiny. It had rendered due service in its time, it had curbed the crown in the interests of liberty, but its inherent vices had grown predominant, and it had come to be a block to the movement of men toward better things. In its development the feudal system had ceased to be of value as an aid to freedom against a centralized tyranny. It had become purely a dissolving and separatist force. When it culminated under Henry VI., we can see its perfect work. The crown, the central cohesive national power, had ceased to be. The real rulers of England were the great nobles, who set up and pulled down kings and tore the country with ambitious factions. Warwick was the arch-type, and the name he has kept through the centuries of the "king-maker" really tells the story. More men wore his livery and cognizance, more men would gather to the Bear and Ragged Staff of the Nevilles, than the king himself could summon. In a less degree all the great nobles were the same. Each was practically the head of a standing army. If the king did not please them, they took up arms, set up another king, and went to war. As they were always rent into bitter factions, the king could not please more than a portion of the nobility at any time, and the result was organized anarchy or the Wars of the Roses. The condition was little better than that which led Poland to ruin and partition. The other powers in the state were king and people. To both the situation was hateful. The king did not like to hold his crown by sufferance and le at the mercy of two or three powerful subjects. The people, especially in the towns, began to long for peace and order, and greatly preferred the chance of one man's tyranny to the infinitely worse oppression of a hundred petty tyrants. Steadily king and people were drawing together, and the only question was when they would be able to crush the feudal nobility and break their power. Edward IV. saw what it was necessary to do, and made some spasmodic efforts in the right direction. But Edward, although a brilliant general, was no statesman. He was too sensual, too indolent, too worthless, except on the field of battle, for such work. Richard was as brilliant a soldier as Edward, but he was also a statesman, and he was neither sensual nor indolent. Short as his reign was, a great work was done, and we have seen that a clear, strong policy of maintaining law and order and of crushing the nobility runs in unbroken line through his statutes. Un It was wise and able work. luckily for himself, although it made no difference in the result, Richard was just a little too early. The feudal nobility were dying, but not quite dead. There were still enough of them to set up a claimant for the crown, still enough to betray Richard and kill him on the field of battle. He was their enemy, and as a class they knew it. It was not his cruelty, even if we admit as true all the Shakespearian crimes. Executions and murders of royal and noble persons were too much the fashion of the day to base a campaign on for the crown. They called Richard tyrant and murderer and "bloody boar," and he retorted with proclamations in which he denounced them not merely as traitors but as murderers, adulterers and extortioners. There was just as much truth in one charge as the other, and neither was of any importance in the fight. Mr. Legge is right in saying that there was no national or popular uprising. Indeed the people of York mourned publicly over Richard's "treacherous murder," when such lamentation was far from safe, and quarrelled in defence of his memory six years later. There was, in reality, no reason for a popular revolt against Richard, for, as has been shown, all his legislation and public acts made for the benefit of the people as much as the crown, and, as Richard represented the new movement in politics, was bound to do so. If Richard had been a little more thorough and a little more cruel; if he had sent Lord Stanley to the block as his successor afterward did, and as he was warranted in doing by the code of the day; if he had sent Stanley's wife along the same road and procured, as he might have done, the murder of the Earl of Richmond, all would have gone well with him. He would have died, probably, according to his sneer, "a good old man," and he would have left an immense reputation as the king who stamped out feudalism, opened the door to learning and civilization, brought crown and people together, consolidated the English monarchy, and set England on the triumphant march of modern days. His executions and cruelties would have been glossed over, and his exploits and abilities enlarged. But he struck the first intelligent blow from the throne at the anarchic nobility, and they had still strength to return the blow, kill him, and then load his memory with obloquy. From "The Last Plantagenet." By Henry Cabot Lodge. From Lippincott's Magazine. GLOVES. In Gloves were manufactured at an early period in the monasteries. 790 Charlemagne granted to the monks of Sithin the right to hunt in the forest for deer, whose skins were required for their book-covers, girdles, and gloves. They were sometimes worn before the consecration of the Sacrament. The gloves of the clergy were usually of white silk or linen, elaborately embroidered. Bruno, Bishop of Segni, declared that white linen should be chosen, because the hands they were to cover should be chaste and clean. The gloves in which Boniface VIII. was buried were of white silk, exquisitely wrought with the needle; the top had a deep border, studded with pearls. Gloves lavishly ornamented were a part of the church furniture in the Middle Ages, and when the clergy's love of splendid dress began to sap the life of the Church in the fourteenth century, colored gloves were forbidden them, "either red, green, or striped." The monks had long before been restricted to sheepskin. There is an old saying that a glove should be dressed in Spain, cut in |