From The Spectator.

and the publication of other treatises no placed in the way of the brother of the less considerable. The tendency of gen- Admirable Crichton (as Sir Thomas loved ius to disregard all such mundane matters to call himself) proved greater than even as the payment of bills had in this, as in he could cope with. No trace remains of other cases, proved a serious obstruction | his universal language, no sign that even a to its natural effluence; but considering portion of it was ever given to the world. the vast importance of the end aimed at by Sir Thomas Urquhart, his creditors would have been soulless indeed had they not refrained from pressing their claims at such a moment. Whether they did so or not we have no means of knowing; but it so happened that the point was of com. paratively little consequence, since there were other and even greater difficulties in the way. Book III. deals with a distressed successor and apparent heir, who is no other, unhappily, than Sir Thomas himself. Some grasping persons - possibly the creditors had apparently laid violent hands on the linguist's temporal possessions, and accordingly he is compelled to plead earnestly "by the laws of all nations" for the preservation of his ancient inheritance · - not, it is to be observed, for any mean personal ends but for the "better evulging of this universal tongue."

The next book is entitled " Chrysomystes," and its object is to show how the rigor of the Scotch kirk has very much obstructed the talented inventor's designs. However much we may sympa. thize with Sir Thomas in his troubles, one can scarcely help feeling a little disappointed with him at allowing his magnificent intentions and the reader's eager expectations to be baulked by his merely worldly difficulties. But there are more of them to come. The Scotch kirk had played its part in embarrassing the author; the Scotch law was not to be outdone. The following book sets forth the austerity of the law of Scotland and the partiality of those that professed it not, of course, on any general abstract ground, but simply as being great hindrances to the present promulgation of the universal language. Now at last the recitals of vexatious interference are finished; and Sir Thomas, as he himself says and all will admit, having "very posedly digested the causes presumptive to the removal of all obstacles impediting the exposal of his brain endeavors," proceeds to prove that the grant of his demands will conduce to all manner of other virtuous undertakings besides the universal language. This he does with no little skill. But his efforts were seemingly unavailing; for at this point the book comes to an end, and it can only be supposed that the obstacles

THE DISQUIET IN FRANCE. THE uneasiness with which many En. glish politicians are watching the course of events in France. is probably a little premature, but there is some ground for it. It has long been noticed that a new régime in France lasts about eighteen years, and is then given up; and that curious feature in the history of a nation is not altogether inexplicable. The French are accustomed to make revolutions and counter-revolutions when other peoples make great changes of party. They know that their social system is founded on a rock, that no party will abrogate the Code, or restore primogeniture, or abolish the conscription, or confiscate small properties; and being at once logicians and actors, they make their changes dramatic and complete, altering the very appear. ance of the form of government. The date is fixed apparently by a certain growth in age. By the time the voters of thirty, who set up one form of govern. ment, approach fifty, they are disappointed with it, weary of it, long for a new experi ment, and cease to defend it. Then the young are left free to try their hands, and they make their attempt in the French way, by some sort of a revolution, in which the initiative rests either with the army or the masses, but which is subsequently confirmed by the body of the electors. Sixteen out of the usual eighteen years have now elapsed, and though there is no recognizable wish for revolution, there are appreciable signs of the uneasiness which in France precedes great movements. The electors who made the republic are not content with it. It has not given them the things they like best, peace, glory, or pecuniary ease. There has been no great war, but a great many conscripts have been used up, and a mass of treasure wasted, in undertakings which have not been very successful, and which the peas. antry do not care about. The people who are conscripted do not want either Tunis, or Tonquin, or Madagascar, and only allow their conquest when told that the effort will be slight. They positively re

-

fused to go to war with China, even when | scarcely known though he was selected retreat was not especially creditable. As as a relative and partisan of M. Clémento glory, there has been none. There was ceau - but whatever they are, he is clearly Do war in Tunis, only an immense con- trying to get the army into his hands. He sumption of conscripts by disease; the is unweariedly active, very despotic, very Tonquin war was not victorious, and the much inclined to pet the common soldiers affair in Madagascar interests no one out as witness his orders relaxing the rules of the official departments. France has for return to barracks at night- and no ally, is as much overshadowed by Ger- wholly indisposed to allow popular officers many as ever, and occupies in foreign to express opinions of their own. He countries a less conspicuous position than shows himself everywhere in every corner she did. As to prosperity, the taxes are of France, and he makes speeches which heavier, prices lower and in France five- are interpreted as indicating a wish that sevenths of the people are producers "the army" as a separate corporation and the debt growing rapidly to unprece should take new pride in itself. These dented proportions. The republic is at are the signs, some French Radicals say, peace, but loan follows loan, and yet the which precede coups d'état; and as they treasury is never at ease. The govern know that all Royalists are irritated, that ment is wasteful, yet has little to show the compromise between Liberals and except schools for its expenditure, and Radicals cannot last, and that there may schools, though popular enough, are be a vacancy in the presidency any day, hardly objects of love with Frenchmen, they are troubled, and inclined to exagThere has been no improvement in the gerate. Probably they do exaggerate. things the electors care most about, while | There must be scores of thousands of employers have been frightened by scenes like those at Decazeville, religious men vexed by petty persecutions, and the respectables worried by what they think the undue favor shown to disorderly ideas. There is discontent so deep, that already more than a third of all French electors have announced at the polls either a readiness to be done with the republic, or at least to give it a severe lesson; and the republican leaders have become so alarmed, that, to check the movement, they have expelled the princes. Their calculation is that if the electors see that the republic is strong, they will go on obey ing it, and that the violent expulsion of the chiefs of a great hostile party will be taken as proof of strength; but the calculation of itself proves how ill at ease they

republicans in the French army, and it is a fixed idea of their generals that whatever happens, if the army moves, it must move as a body, that, as they put it, "there must be no civil war in the barracks." It was in a great degree by an appeal to that feeling that Gambetta was able to compel Marshal Macmahon to resign when all was ready for a coup d'état. Until the whole army is disgusted, therefore, there will be no movement, which, again, must be one for some definite cause. French generals are too jealous to let one of themselves strike for his own hand, and there is no name as yet which is generally ac cepted as fitting to be the war-cry of a new régime. It would take some new occurrence, such as a catastrophe abroad, or a serious émeute at home, or a victory of Extremists in the Chamber, or the choice It is natural enough that under such of a president hated by the army, to make circumstances the army should be watched the whole force act together; and till that with anxiety, and even with suspicion. It happens, the army, whatever its temper, is known not to be quite pleased with is certain to wait. Still, the mere facts itself or the republic, with itself, be- that if anything did occur it could act, that cause it has not gained glory; and with it possesses an efficient commandant who the republic, because the civilians rule it is not quite understood, and that it is dis so completely. It is also known that re-posed to come a little more to the front, actionary feeling is stronger in the army make serious politicians uneasy, and exthan in the nation, partly because military officers are always inclined towards discipline, partly because in an army which seeks educated officers, a majority of them will always come from the class best able to pay for education. The army is therefore watched, and its official chief, General Boulanger, has contrived of late to deepen the suspicion. His politics are

are. •

treme Radicals frantic, and both have fixed their eyes with curious intentness on General Boulanger. And yet it would not be safe to say more than that con. fidence in the republic is, outside Paris, decreasing; but then, that would be true, and in France that is not a good sign. The symptoms would probably pass away if there were a return of prosperity; but

there is no sign of that yet, and another | its national music have really but little year or two of depression, dulness, and general failure may exhaust the thin political patience of a generation which has lost most of its original hope that the republic would be tranquil, powerful, and cheap. The peasants, who at Gambetta's signal swerved in a mass towards the republic, are a good deal disenchanted.

From St. James's Gazette.
RUSSIAN MUSIC.

RUSSIA has so distinct an individuality amongst the nations that one naturally expects that its national music should have a peculiar and interesting character. Expectations of this kind are often disappointed, but in the case of Russia they happen to be fulfilled. Russian music has its characteristic coloring, its goût de terrain - things not easily to be described; and it has also a general character less difficult of definition. Russian music is, as a whole, melancholy, and much of it is marked, at the same time, by an unusual degree of earnestness and elevation. One might apply to it the words Gilbert White uses in speaking of the song of the blackcap: it is full, sweet, deep, and wild. Yet its melancholy is relieved, too, by outbursts of a sparkling sprightliness and an unrestrained gaiety.

relation; the causes which lead to the formation of a national style being both numerous and complex in their working. Another point that the student of folkmusic should not forget is that in Russia, owing to the comparative isolation of the Russian people from the currents of civilization, the popular music has not been much adulterated and influenced by mod. ern methods, but retains a good deal of its wild graces and its native dress.

While the direct influence of Russia in the world of music has been but small, if measured by the rank its composers hold, it has produced some fine executants, and its melodies have gained a wide acceptance. Beethoven owed something to them, and Chopin used the airs of Lithu ania and Little Russia freely in the composition of his marvellous "preciosities." Field and Hummel elaborated them; Haydn did not disdain them; and Rossini, who took the “Zitti, zitti" of "Il Barbiere" from Haydn's "Seasons," appropriated a Russian air for the "Il vec chiotto" of the same opera.

Nor are the Russians careless of their fine body of national music, with its wealth of occasional songs. They are a singing people; they have the musical temperament, and their excellent gifts amply repay any cultivation bestowed upon them. Borrow, with characteristic exaggeration, declares them to be the only people who The Russian popular airs are notice- know how to sing. Their particularly able- -as are those of Norway, of Fin- keen sense of harmony seems the more land, and of Hungary for being mostly remarkable because harmonized music is in minor keys; other European nations a thing of comparatively modern times in having favored the major mode, the Ger- Russia; for even in the church nasal unimans so much so, indeed, that there are son held its own until the time of Cathonly two per cent. of minor tunes amongst erine II., and is still sustained by the Old their Volkslieder. That the minor keys Believers. Certain parts of the country lend themselves readily to the expression the Ukraine, for instance - are as of either the abandonment of grief or of famous for singing as Yorkshire and Lanjoy, according to the rate of movement cashire are in our own country. The Ruswith which they are associated, is a com- sian vocalists are remarkable for the promonplace of musical æsthetics. Karam-duction of soft and sweet effects, and for sin attributed this melancholy in Russian the extraordinary depth and volume of music to the sufferings of Russia under the Mongolian yoke; writers of the school of M. Taine would point to the landscape and climate of the country, to the monotony of the forest lands and to the wide dreary plains, now frozen and now sunbaked. The fact is, however, that the Russian is one of the most cheerful of mortals, easily moved to mirth and unwilling to depart from it; nor is there any reason to believe his cheerfulness to be a modern development. The general character of a nation and the character of

their bass voices; but their soprani and tenors do not seem to be above the European average in quality of voice. Their ecclesiastical music, sung by male voices only, impresses deeply all who hear it. The basses, who take the double C and D, and even lower notes with ease, are, however, limited in compass; and it was partly this, perhaps, that led to the insti tution of those singular one-note choirs in which each singer comes in upon his particular note after the fashion of a handbell-ringer. A phenomenal bass voice in

the Slaviansky choir now in England would appear to be used only for a few notes. This method of division has, it may be mentioned, its parallel in the sav age music of Guiana and of some parts of central Africa. Among the peasantry there still remains a peculiar mode of singing or chanting that is associated with certain of the more ancient melodies. These tunes are built up principally with the tonic and dominant of the scale; and when the other notes of the scale occur in them they are lightly passed over with little sound or accent. The Russian soldiers' songs, in which untrained male soprani sing to the accompaniment of a pedal note sustained by the basses, are said not to be pleasant to Western ears. A popular officer is sometimes tossed to the music of these songs; an odd way of showing affection. The Russian gypsy music is one of the things no traveller is allowed to neglect, and its fame has consequently been spread into all lands. At present it would appear to have lost its old qualities, and to have become a somewhat theatrical commodity cooked up to suit the demand for it.

We can get a glimpse of Russian instrumental music at an early date. In 591 some Russian ambassadors were cap. tured by the Greeks, and each was found to have a guitar-like instrument with which he amused himself by the way. In southern Russia in the seventeenth century in struments like the Greek crotala were still in use, as well as a kind of double flute. The instruments that are now played upon present only local variations of the familiar bagpipe, guitar, hautboy, and violin types of the rest of Europe; except that in some of the stringed instruments the sound is obtained from silk cords, which are reinforced by iron wires that give forth sympathetic tones. A similar device to this is found in some of the Indian and Turkish instruments. Russian ladies play, on the whole, pretty much the same pianoforte music as is played all over Europe; but show a partiality for Chopin, and admit to their repertories one or two of those native composers to whom Rubinstein has lately introduced us. Their songs are accompanied at times upon a small angularbased guitar. Perhaps the most curious feature of Russian instrumental music is found in the horn-bands that were instituted early in the last century, and in which each player has but one note to sound as in the one-note choirs. Spohr, in his "Autobiography," tells us that he

heard a band of this kind play an overture by Gluck with extraordinary precision, and surmises that this result was not arrived at without many thrashings.

From St. James's Gazette. THE LOTUS.

BY A HINDOO.

AT the time I write this the monsoon has burst over India; the whole land is covered as if by magic with a verdant carpet, and all nature has acquired fresh life and vigor after the long spell of dry, blighting hot weather. And who that has ever lived in that country can forget at this moment the fragrant freshness of the air, the moist dark-green trees laden with fruits and blossoms, the smiling flowers of every hue and shade, the shooting of newly sown crops, the feeling of relief on the pale faces of the ryots, and the revivified countenance of all men and animals? But nothing do I miss so much as the beautiful lotus, the queen of Indian flowers, the adored of poets and the favor. ite of gods.

Lotuses grow in the tropical regions of Asia, Africa, Australia, and elsewhere; their chief home being India, where they grow abundantly, extending as far to the north-west as Cashmere, where they are seen to perfection. They not only bear the loveliest of flowers; they also serve for very useful purposes to both men and animals. Somewhat resembling tulips, but much larger, you can see them in full bloom after the rains in nearly all the lakes and ponds; on the waters of which the smiling pink or white flowers stand upright over the large, graceful green leaves. Though common, I have seldom seen them grow in large towns, or in dirty ponds and tanks; and when they once take root in any clean piece of water, they grow luxuriantly without care or protection.

The lotus is a large flower, from four to ten inches in diameter, with vinous smell; its petals are elliptic, concave, and veined. The fruiting torus is from two to four inches in diameter; the ripe carpels vary from the size of a pea to that of a small cherry. In some_parts_the_natives live on lotus seeds. The long, fine filaments contained within the cells of the flower are drawn out, and the thread spun from the filament is used as wicks for the lamps in temples and pagodas. The lotus leaves

are very large and round, from two to | reigning beauty, bowing with modest yet three feet in diameter, membranous, dignified grace at the homage and admiracupped, and covered with a fine bloom or tion of her gaily bedecked courtiers and white powder easily rubbed off. Some attendants. times whole lakes are entirely covered over with them, so that you can hardly see the water underneath. These leaves serve as plates for very poor people, and elephants have a great liking for them as food. In the remote, solitary parts of the country you can sometimes see several elephants, half hidden under the water, lustily devouring lotus leaves and stems. The stalks are from three to six feet high, full of spiral vessels, smooth or with small scattered prickles. In hot weather the stalks are commonly eaten by the poorer classes, and boiled in their curries. The root of the lotus is from two to three feet long, and pierced longitudinally with several holes. When boiled it is of a yellowish color and sweetish taste, not unlike turnip. It is believed to be good and highly nutritious, and forms a favorite Idish with the inhabitants of Cashmere.

The lotus is highly venerated by the Hindoos. It is the immediate attribute of Vishnoo, who in Hindoo mythology is represented as seated upon the lotus in the midst of waters. It is also peculiarly sacred to Lakshmi, the wife of Vishnoo, who is sometimes called Kamala, or lotus, In the Hindoo theogony the floating lotus is an emblem of the world; the whole plant signifies both the earth and its two principles of fecundation. The flower is a favorable offering at the Hindoo temples, where it also enters into all the ornaments of brass vessels used in the service of the idols. There is a legend that the red lotus was dyed by the blood of Siva that flowed from the wound made by the arrow of Káma, the Indian Cupid.

The flower has been a favorite theme of the Indian poets from time immemorial. It has the high honor of being designated The principal varieties of the lotus are in Sanskrit by at least fifty ordinary names the white, the red, and the blue. The besides the special ones for its varieties; first has large white flowers with sepals; some of them being very expressive, the root being large, tuberous, and eat- as "lake-born," "water-born," "hundredable. The red species grows in tanks in leafed." Sanskrit poets largely use the peninsular India and in Bengal. Its flow- lotus as the emblem of female beauty. A ers appear at the close of the rains, and beautiful face or lovely eyes are compared are of an intense red or dark-crimson to the full-blown lotus or the opening color, whence its Sanskrit name "blood buds; while the tall and quivering stem lotus." The blue lotus, with its small and the graceful filaments stand for the flowers, grows in ponds and tanks in the well-shaped body and the arms. In the same parts. Its varieties grow in Bengal, "Ratnávali " -a Sanskrit play written in and are common in Ajmere and the Pash- the twelfth century — Vasantaka says to kur Lake. The large, bluish flowers are his lady-love, "My beloved Ságariká, thy used medicinally, being considered cooling countenance is as radiant as the moon; and astringent. There is another well- thy eyes are two lotus buds; thy hand is known variety of the lotus. It is called the full-blown flower, and thy arms its the pigmy, being a very diminutive water- graceful filaments." Kálidas's works are lily. Its flower is no larger than a half-full of such comparisons; one of the pretcrown; it grows in the Khassya Hills, in the north of India, in China, and in Siberia.

The lotus is seen in its greatest splendor in Cashmere. It is very common on every expanse of water in that country; the leaves are so large and numerous that in some places they form a green carpet, over which ducks and moorhens run securely to and fro. When the flowers are in blossom, as at this season of the year, such places present a beautiful sight. Lilies of various colors and shades peep from amidst the green leaves which rest lightly and gracefully on the water; while the magnificent lotus, with its gigantic jeaf and tall and quivering stem, appears in the midst of this floating garden like a

tiest being that passage in "Sakuntalá” where the king, observing from a distance Sakuntalá carrying a water-jar in her fa ther's hermitage, her graceful form being only clad in knotted bark, thus describes her: "As the lotus, though overgrown with weeds, is still supremely beautiful, so is this damsel, pale and trembling, though clad in simple bark. What is not beautiful on a beauty?" Even philosophers take to the lotus for the illustration of their gloomy maxims. In a well-known verse in "Mohamudgara," the philosophic poet compares the fleeting human life to the unstable, quivering water on the smooth, glossy petal of the lotus, which is continually undulated by the breeze blow. ing on it.