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6 CASPAR PURDON CLARKE DEAD DIRECTOR OF TWO BIG MUSEUMS. Career nt EnaH»b Kniahi Who »«<l Much for the Metropolitan In New York and the Sooth Kensington In Lnndnn. sir Caspar Purdon Clarke, formerly di rector of the Metropolitan rouseuni in New York, died last week Wednesday at London, and so one of the world s best critics of the fine arts has gone. His was a life of less than the traditional three score years and ten. a life full of fruitful effort and well-merited success. His executive faculties were as keenly de veloped as his critical functions, and hr was as exacting in the one as in the other. His creed as a director was clear iv and tersely expounded in the state ment he made when assuming control of the great metropolitan institution, to the effect that there should be artistic ap preciation of works of art with small thought who created the work, or where it was created, so long as it was beau tiful. For the genuine masterpiece hr had an appreciative eye. and as to the Spurious he was seldom in error. The result was that he brought order out of chaos in New York, and marked without hesitation many falsities that had long been in mas querade. His work in this country, al though it covered the too brief period of fire years, left a lasting impression, not only upon New York's museum and Amer ican artists, hut greater still upon the masses who struggle to comprehend art. It was for them that his greatest efforts nere exerted; it will be by them that his work will be ultimately most appreciated. Sir Burdon came to this country in the face of a storm of protest from the English, who had long acknowledged his worth as director of the South Kensington museum in London, but who had rewarded his labors and intellect with the Customary niggardly English salary. It was said then that he w ent to New York because he was. offered *IO.OOO a year more. This may have had weight when he came to form his final de cision. but there were other things which counted more. He saw a great, opportunity in the newer country, a great museum in »lmost the chrysalis state, the chance to do great missionary work, as well as to leave •he stamp of his individuality and the mark of his ideals upon a collection which all believe will ultimately be the most import ant in the world. He found the museum ixtorly organized and arranged to fulfil its work. He rapidly instituted sweeping changes, both in administration and detail of exhibition, and he left the Metropolitan on June 27, last year, when he resigned his directorship because of poor health, in ex cellent condition and with greatly increased daily attendance figures. Personally the man was attractive in every way. He was gracious, gently genial. and unostentatious. Of medium hight. he had the slightly stooped shoulders which mark the savant. His hair was gray, as was his mustache, and his eyes were bright and keen. Some held that he was an icono clast of the worst sort, but those who knew him best will remember him as a friendly optimist, ever ready to talk and always ready to listen to the opinions of others, bitt equally ready th frankly disagree with these opinions if they failed to coincide with his. He was fitted for bis work to a degree, and John Lane, in a tribute to him io one of the art magazines, put it well when he wrote : He appears to be chemist, •scientist, artist, craftsman, antiquary, ‘archeologist and alchemist combined. He ‘also has the instinct Of at once recognizing •the genuineness of an antique, as well as 'its beauty." Caspar Furdon Clarke was born at Richmond. County Dublin. Ire., in 1841. the son of Edward Marmaduke and Mary Agnes Clarke. and received his- primary education at Gaulteefs school in Syden ham and at a private school at Boulogne. It was in 1.862 that his real education in the arts began at the National arts train ing school in South Kensington. He was the medalist two years later, and the fol lowing year won the national medallion for his architectural designs for an o'# English house. This was the first honor conferred on him by the famous Bromptrm institu tion in which he was to play so important a role and of which he was later • he referred to as the ton. S-.-- - af-er ■ a graduation ho won r*- z~ - r r v a «« of plans for the heating and i*n'. v tg of the Hou*"’ of Parliament w- - ; - e»d so adequate that the young mas rw p—- moted to be director of ■ e r .so n de partmental works. He ’-o- ' t - »- once to auperintsr i - r»prod -.—-» work being done f - . • K» .- '* museum and from to Eg — ; and Palestine to buy er ••• - oot It -* >• - 1872 that b» built tm ■- .- of s >f-*rk at Alexandria, and t » • •- i.tg *• years were deroteri to build ng rga- n houses in Teheran and other eastern eftfev for England. Later he traveled much in Russia. Gieete. Stria. <:n Its • and Germany, anl it is said that was not only familiar with th* <oliections in s.l the great continental museums, but those in the private homes as well. In 1878 he was appointed architect for the British royal commission for the Taris exposition and was agent for the Indian government as well. His design of the India pavilion won him the cross of the legion of Honor, and he was awarded several lesser art medals for design. It was in 1880 that ho returned to South Kensington, being directly connected with the department of Indian art, and for the following throe years ho did much buying and collecting, his success being recognised by the jewel of the order of the Indian Empire. In 1884 he came to this country to investigate homes and dormitories for women prior to designing Alexandra House in London. It was during thus trip that he aroused the ire of Vassar college by saying that it was "too aristocratic for ‘him." The government of India had him arrange for the colonial and Indian exhibi tion in 1885. nnd the colonial exhibition the next year. In 1887 he designed Lord Brassy's famous museum in Park lane and was chief of the British-India section of th* Paris exposition in 1889, which brought his work as an architect to a close. H* began his close association with the South Kensington museum in 1892. when appointed keeper of the art collections, and at once began to show the influence exerted over his early life by Sir Wools s ton Franke, hie close friend and probably th* greatest antiquary of the 19th cen tury. Clarke had spant much time with Franks while the latter was doing hie expert work at the British museum. In Clarke was promoted to the assist ant directorship of the Brompton treasure house, and three years later to the direc torship. which ho held until UMKt. when । he accepted n like position with the Met • ropolitan. It was in 1902 that ho was | created a knight in recognition of his I work. While at South Kensington he ; found time to accept royal commissioW ! ships to the Taris exposition of and I the St Louis exposition in 1904. as well j as to write almost countless papers which j were rea»l before various art institutes or published in the art journals. After the death of Gen di Cesnola. the first director of the Metropolitan museum, the trustees began to look about for his successor. J. T. Morgan was then com paratively now in the presidency, and it has always 1 een thought that he was chiefly responsible for engaging Sir Prr don. as the two were lose personal friends and had been rivals at the important art sales for years. Sir Purdon. according to his contract, was to hold office for life, but resigned in 1910. and was given a sal ary of S3OOO a year for the remainder of his life, as well as being chosen honorary European correspondent of the museum. He was abroad when his resignation was accepted, and never returned to this coun try. He married Frances Susannah Col lins. and they had eight children. Sir Fur don received several honorary degrees from universities, in .addition to being made a companion of the Victorian order. He was a member of the Royal society of antiquaries, of the Royal society of Brit ish architects, th* Asiatic society, the Roy al academy of Madrid, .and several Lon don clubs. THE TEN AMERICAN PAINTERS. One Had Nothing tn Offer So There Are Only Nine Who Exhibit. The Ten American painters are holding their 14th annual exhibition in the Mont rose gallery in New York, only they are nine instead of 10. Mr Simmons has been so busy filling decorative commis sions that he had no time for exhibition pictures, so is not represented among the 21 canvases. The exhibition is said to be unusually attractive and the pictures vastly different. The Boston Transcript's New York reporter, in writing of it saysr— The four brilliant improvisations of Robert Reid strike the ton note in thia all-star cast of joyous performers. This ?° t thieves its most brilliant crescendo in the nervous vibrancy of color and hand ling of rhe nude figure, seated in profile on the floor with hands clasped across the knees l°°kmg up at the white crane on , “The Japanese Screen.” from which the picture derives its name. He has seldom, if ever, done better painting than is re v^aled in the pearly flesh tones of this figure lightly and loosely crosshatched ■with strokes of rose madder and touches of delicate blue and light yellow. Retain ing all hj^ oldtime vivacity of color and virtuosity of handling. Mr Reid has ac quired of late a certain fresh vigor, vital izing his recent achievements with some thing of the pulsating spirit of life that makes living realities instead, of anemic splendors out of his delightful version? of remminity. This new- quality is very evi dent in the fine. Rented portrait of a young woman in a black hat wearing purple black furs, with a Japanese screen serv ing a? background against which the figure stands out substantial and very. real. Tainted with admirable verve and vi brant with light, that makes, of the shad ow* a sort nf lambent veil, this is a very personal application of <hp principles of impressionistic painting quite unlike the work nf any man T know of either here or abroad. More luminous, more pris matic in color and exhibiting a more facile touch are his two harmonies in blue and. gold and violet, called “The Reflec tion and the “Crystal Ball.- which are different versions nf the same model in a warm violet robe, seated before a mir ror. in which her image is reflected, gaz ing at a crystal delicately poised on her between her slender fingers. These gracefully posed figures harp an inconsequential gayety of line arid color * that find their counterpart in the sunnv, I airy, out-of-door spirit of Mr Benson’s j single contribution called “Summer." in ! which a group of white-clad young women are sunning theniselrc* nn a sloping, weed grown bank with a windswept blue sky end *ea beyond against which the auburn ! tresses nf thn figure in thp foreground I makes a telling note, vivifying the whole ! canvas. Fainted with a light touch, in j Mr Benson s freshest and most sponta neous manner, it presents vividly the charming grace and naturalness nf our • young women that is In striking contrast I Choate hype rest hpficism of! Thomas w. Dew log’s figure nf a "Ladv Listening” to the faint echoes of the i pe.sL one fancies, so quietly is she sitting m her wicker chair. This harmonv in duri golds, gray greens and faded pinks. I with the metriculous rare of the | mm.atuHat ha« an old-world air about it. «-*zg*xtire of past splendors. It attracts ■ * its very evasiveness, wooing you by mmoet self-effacing reticence and its **r*u» distinction that is not flustered by ; •he blare of prismatic trumpets. .-.-ra f rom the foregoing to Childe I Hasssm's auburn-haired woman ip a blue s v - n the "Breakfast Room—Winter Morning." as from a dream to a flesh and ' vod reality that is substantially human; rhe’ ires and moves and has its-being in an atmosphere that is respirable and sur 'harged with light that penetrates every iwh of the canvas. In its broad treat ment of a mass of detail—the jortquils on the little round table, the platter of fruit j on the window seat against the delicate : silvery, blue-gray curtains veiling the dim ly glimpsed view of the city—in its deli cate tonalities and in its successful ren dering of the soft light, diffused yet re taining something of sparkle in its play on fruit and polished table top. ip all of this is revealed Mr Ha«sam at Jiis host. His view of '‘Gloucester" from the bight overlooking the harbor with its shipping i« a fine, cheerful performance, while liis "Times Building" at night is os disap pointing as is .1. Ahlen Weir's view of noc turnal "New York," with its lobster pal aces and girating electric signs making the night hideous with their blaze of lights. But Mr Weir causes one to forget this unsuccessful experiment with the ineffable spirit of childhood in his little "Lizzie Lynch" holding her spotted eat in Iter gently folded arms, in this, ns well as in the figure of a young Woman arranging "pnssv willows" In a blue-gray bowl, he reveals a diStinguishel vision coupled with a mellow tenderness of treatment that make of these harmonies of opalescent greens and pinks, grays and delicate low tones blues things of gemlike beauty. His work has to a high degree the power of evocation, revealed with no less force and subtlety in his landscapes. when at his best, than in his figure pieeda. as is am ply demonstrated by the serene, lyri-n! quality of his bit of river bank "Near Nor wich. Moreover, it has □ robust mas culinity of treatment that gives to his landscapes an appearance of weight and substance. The art of Willard L. Metcalf looks rather fragile and insubstantial in this company. His delicate, snow-comred “Cornish Hills" is wel) painted without being particularly appealing or convincing. These landscapes of Nir Metcalf are want ing in elemental force rather than in craftsmanship. H» is like a well-equipped orator who has but little to sav and he leaves us listless and indifferent. Mr Weir’s art at least is always invitingly provocative when he is not absorbingly interesting. Mr Bryan's presence in Washington in dicates that he experts to have sortie slight influence with this Congress. THE SPRINGFILLI) WEEKLY REPUBLICAN*: THURSDAY, APRIL 6. 1911. OUR BOSTON LITERARY LETTER. j FRANCE. KNOWN AND UNKNOWN. 1 First and Second ( anse* — “I nfre rjncntrd J rnnor"— A ncient Habita tion* and Habitant* — Jerrold’* ••Heal France,” and I ureal l*hnn fa»inaaoria. ' L. 'iu t>ur Sptclnl Correspondent. RosTox, Tuesday. April 4. Popp, no more ntheistic or deistic than many of the priests who have had that for , a title which he trad for a surname, opened i his "Universal Prayer," once so well known and much quoted in New England among the Jeffersonian democrats, in this daring fashion: — Thou First Great Cause. least understood. Who all nr. «eu«e confined To know but this.—that Thou art good, Aud that myself sm blind; her csv'st me in this dark estate Ln know the good from ill; Anri binding Nature fast in Fate. Left free the human will. To-day 1 am not speaking of First Caifses. arithmetical or otherwise, but of second causes' in human affairs, which are in numerable in history; but among which there has been one persistent second cause. ! ever since Caesar called attention to that ‘ great region which is now- the republic of • France, but was theft all Gaul, and was i divided into three parts, in which lie marred and massacred for years, while I building up a lame and a party, an army and a fleet, which in time made him dic tator of the Roman world. Ever since 58 B. C. and for an indefinite petiod earlier, what is now Ip plaisan pays de ! Fran-'e has been a political and social ’ second cause of great potency, yet more or ! less unknown at its periods of highest I potency. Caesar revealed some of the ' Galli • mysteries, but left others more con fused.—the Druidical power, for example. ; and the forms of racial or tribal govern i ment. Then came the early Christian pe- I riod. with its impossible traditions and | prodigious fables, in which Marius, seven ! times consul of senatorial Rome, was con founded with the Virgin Mary, and later saints were scattered through France and Belgium in wild profusion. Then the Arabs and Charlemagne appeared, leading the improbable and the impossible in their train, and introducing a whole new lit erature of heroes and warriors, as inter esting and as historically unfounded a* the Hebrew Samson and thp British Arthur. Next Joan of Arcs raised her honest peas ant countenamr among the dignitaries of church and state, and put them all out of countenance to such a degree that they burnt her alive, and now worship her as a saint, —much : -thp same way that the southern- confederates have dealt by Lin coln since t.hey r assassinated him. Arid who really knows the truth about French Calvinism, or thp French Revolution, or what became of the Dauphin, nr the tfiys teries of the Bonaparte family? Miss Botham Edwards, who always writes intelligently of Franco and the French people, whom slie knows so well, has brought out a new hook. 'Tnfre,- quented France.” printed at Bread-street hill, in Ixmdon. but published in New York by the .Stokes company, and finely illus trated in the newer English manner. She proceeds through the valley of ihe Marne • the Matrona of Caesar) 10 Provins, which he mentions under another name, and which now. iustea<l bf the 80.(10> peo ple it is said bhoc to have had. coiints but soOO. and and vet has ad the apparatus of civilization that larger cities require.— a town library, museum, theater and vari ouk fear nod socidtirs. besides ruins and caves and poets. Tn he sure. Weimar has hardly, mom people, and Concord h:uP< much Urs when it was most famous. Milsp Edwards savs:— : -•. ' ' The rich, red Tnsp.^onftfibftly Ffor^. enrp rose, is in reality ihe .rose nf Frnvlna, hating b?on introdceed tn'tills - itv-of chain pagne by the-<ruSader^ from the Holy Land. Gardens nf this rn<e may jstili I ' found at Provins, though little piiltlvated now fnr •'nmmprcial purposes. Prnveiup. th*'land nf the Troubadour#, has .therefore no- claim whatever upon rose-lovers. She then passes on to Bpsqncnn, which, as Vesontio, is famous jn Caesar’s storv of hi* Gallic wftrs; she pays little attrition to the conquerbr. but visits the natural ' curiosities.—eaves, mountains, ruins, etc. Not so the learned of the regions which •'aesar made iTlhstrious in his Com mentaries: they have been commenting and controverting, and lately have been dig- • relics nf the battle* and sieges of the hero. Tn France the fashion was set by Louis Napoleon; in the preparations made for his imperial life of <’aesar: and many have followed in that track since 18(50- Among those who aided Louis Napoleon in his ta«k was a Col Stoffel.-an Alsacian. I infer, who in 1890 published an interest ing volume, with map? and plans, on the campaign of < aesar against Ariovistus. the German warrior, in which he has not only deciphered ’ansar> whole plan of ram- piigia and order of march and battle, but comments sensibly on the material fur i nish*d by CiTsar for a history of earlv । ■' France, and for instruction in the art of I ! war: which, says Stoffel, is an art and - : nor a science to ho learned by practice, ; - then, and not from bbok». Nevertheless. ‘ he blames the French schoolmasters for I not making more use of Caesar's war record in Gaul. He says:— The seven books of the ' Gallio War." die- i - tntod by < afar, contain the oldest historic i information about the peoples who tn his ' I time dwelt In the regions between the tthinc. ’ the Alps, the Mediterranean, the Pyrenees i and the Atlantic. So France is the only : country which can boast of having for Its geographer and first historian one of the greatest intelloets ever on earth. And ret. In this France, his t'bmmeiitarlos Ohly 'serve io teach schoolboys a little Latin: whereas it should bo the one book io interpret the history of their ancestors. Formerly. It is true. Caesar, when first read, seemed some- i i what dry. hut it 1* so no longer- on th* contrary, since the pnbibation of the third i Napoleon s History of .Inlius Caesar, with nil the discoveries made therein; upon the re searches ordered by the emperor. It has ac quired the greatest Interest. We ought to have a good French version of It. with notes and a g»t of maps; thia book should then he one of the chief fext-hook« for national schools. Pupils led by masters anil profes sors. should then visit the famous places sites of Gallic towns, battlefields, Celtic and Roman roads, etc. This would be a good thing, and perhaps it has been done since rhe veteran coldnel wrote. lio is firm in the faith that the French are neither a Tintin, nor a Germanic race, in spite of the fact that their laiignage is bastard Latin, and that they ware often itiraded and governed by Germans. They are Celtic in habit and character. b P says, much at Caesar described them in his sixth book. At that time their number was eight millions, ho says, or less than a third of their present number in the same limits, though some parts were more populous than ■ now. Miss Edwards describes boating ou tlie River Tam. amid volcanic cliffs and crags, in language a little too artificial. blit im pressive as th« scenery itself must bo:— Only the gentle ripple of the water, onlv the sorlll note of the cicada nt Intervals ■ . breaks the stillness W r win to have quitted the precincts of th" familiar world, through the wrtals of another, strpondous walls of limestone, not fa be srgled hr the foot or measured by the eve. hem In out wav The Cirque vies Baumes Is a double wall line.) with gigantic .area and grottoes Fairies of old. of giant race, hate surely bom) making merry hero. One and nil have vanished- th*lr vast sunlit caverns opening sheer on the glassy water, remain intact; high above mnv their dwellings h» aeon, alrv open chambers under the edg» of diffs; deep cm-rldors wind ing through the wall of rock: vaulted ar cades whence a spring might Ite made Into the cod oaves below,, On this subject of caves and cgvo.dwell era more will follow; but for the present I tim drawn aside hy one of the most special of Fronth learned books, that of I'tanrnla Xavier Michel who valle.l hint self in the whimsical French fashion of disguising his baptismal name. "Fran cfsqiimMich»l." ft# title is “Researches I Into the Trade, Fabrication and Use of ; < luths of Silver and Bilk. and Oth ! ' r ./ Tissues, in Western Europe. • chiefly m Fram’d during the Middle Ages. It was published in 1852 and ded j o/Hed to a Greek manufacturer in Lyons. • A. i emeniz. who is described as "the most fastidious collector of Greek .literature of : all ages, and of medieval French litera ture” and a great ■patnm of choice book hmder*. in his rich library at Lyons. This is a bowk such as but few Frenchmen would w-rite. and yet such as all men • 'flu read with pleasure, provided they know the half-dozen tongues and dialects » in which the authorities are quoted,— ! only n few of whieb does ho translate. He says in his dedication: A thousand time.-- in mv .areer h« editor i nave I met with the nam?« of t?«s«ea more i or less cpstjy. whosc^ French equivalent I wds I ever unable to find exactly. With y^u for ■ guide. T harp hfed n fine opportunity to earry light where the learned till now bad found ! nought but un<rrtain.ty or doubt. Hence this boqk of quarto pages, n hich. taken with the pages folio of Du ( ange’s glossary (which Michel some times corrects! give the moaning, with examples and citations, of all the names for,stuffs and garments which Roman emperors nr popes, and Frankish kings i and medieval abbot# and cardinals and' i ^ore. Barragan and Camelot. Bauarat and Rocpran, Ceudal and Cotsa mit. < ‘hrysoclarnm apd Diarrhqdon. Frit-, sain* and I uridaturn.,lniizillns and K.audj -with all th> stuffs, ami styie^ coni in g un <iCr al! the letters of thn alphabet,, riiak* l my studies nbydless. fnr here is she c whole story io]d. with many ilhiminating ahcc dotrs. It seems that, for gold la ring, woolen cloths were first used in Greece; soon after thefn came in silk from China or India, or both; but pnt in such abun dance as lateff but for the inweavihg of gold and silver threads. Sicily and other parts of Enrobe grew famous after the sixth Christian ceiMury. and kings and queens and churchmen went tn great cost in this vanity. Saint Louis, of the later crusades and king <>f France, wore camel's hair or camiot from humility; but in the years of Francis I and the "field of-the doth of cold” nnbjes and priests wore the woodland or the null, arid sometimes a whole village op their backs in guise of breed clothing. Before thp time of either Lours l X or ^Francis I costly ap parel was an evil to be rebuked. aS St Je roihe had re bilked ft in hia day. Coni ment ; ing nn the simple dress of Charlemagne and his grandson- Louis the German, Mi chel. says:— , . They presrribed the use of silk, nf gold ajid of silver in. garments .«a fashion widely spread eren jn <ooventsi. But such laudable efforts oould not long prevail against luxury Ih dress, thp taste for. which is always more keenly felt in people of a less advanced civili zn.uon; ami nt thfall, of the Caroliugian*. or even sooner, ta^pfoiertbed stuffs reap peared^s good as new.- Do we not see. In the first crusade Godfrey nt .Bolllon and. the 'funer r-reneb- -blu^a* appearoiig. hofotp- the gihltPriv. . Alexis, .Comnenus. wearing rj.-U .-(..tJi.-s ;lUj i costly, furs. "su. h ns the r rrnch princes used to weftr.’’ sars an early author.. ...... Fhe cave ilKdlert and flip wearers, of. cloth o,f gold teueh elhotvs in France,• where, at'cortiihg to that unwearied an-, thor. Baring Gould, there are-still rock habitations and cave dwellings occupied and found cbmfort^bfe bv contemporary L r .t. , L t ‘ 1 L ll <'"“Pwives. Mr' Gould in his knff, Castles and Care Dwellings of Eu rope. published rn America, bv’ I.ippin cott tells of a visit.Jie made to Troo on the Loir inpt th.q Loire, a better-known’ stream! last year,, rp .whirh Infndn .iq of' the inhabitants live ynder ground, in cares hollowed out in th? ,sidp of cliffs, one above another. pere’ afb less than 800 inhabitants in all, and the sanitation is strange but there is no board of health, and perhaps they die ho faster than in Boston under’ Dr Dilin s sanitary des mitism. Other dwellings of a like charac-' ter are foundjin J’Mnw: and there are. Cate and cliff aivejH& jn pthet parts of Europe, even in Eftitiihd where thev are now and agaifP ffndfiflf fault n,P gypsies., whose consiis has late-’ h- been taken- wgiiesHetl- at.': Bht if is France of whi^fe: F'sitrite.'.'fcinf' fhefe in the tune of .Julius.’Caesar; were numerous care dwellers in southern France. One of these. Ctr’ilis. igna here of insur-’ reetion in Plutarch and Tacitus Ves pasian was the emperor against whom” be rerolted. and by whdm SaMniis an ^ hj s wife Epponia were put td'd,<?atli. They were allies of Cirilis: hid themselros in a care under their castle.-and lived there nine rears undetected. Mr Gohld here loses a pretty story he might hare told about Eppoms (whom Plutanffi in his "Lorre Stories' calls Etnponai of whose constancy and adventure's Tacitus meant to say something, bof that parr of his history is lost. Pintarch enlarges on it. howeror. and It would make a French novel, wetl • spun out " • They were rich proprietors near Langres in the time of Vespasian, who plotted a t evolt with Cirilis. and had some success against Borne, but finally, being beaten. Sabinos took refuge in great cellars under his villa-, and had the buildings burned and " "1 I 1 co u .n. or onn nvau, —not even ndtrfymg Epponia of his retreat. She grieved so much at the news of his death, that ho feared she might kill herself, ami so ho notified her that' he was living in safety, .arod for hy - two faithful freed men. and bad merely turned cave-dweller. She joined him there, and for years they lived in this underworld, where she gave birth to two boys, ope of whom Plutarch says he know afterward at Delphi, which wa« near the Chernncan home of the bi ographer. Finally both husband and wife were captured and executed by Vespasian: having first been fold by the faithful wife that "she lived more happily in that duu geop iti Ffatfre (han he did in his palace, at Ronfe'."- The tale is told in n'long Pla tonic dialog between' Plutarch lin'd his neighbors, and it is need to show what a virtue constancy is iit good -women.' Tlie - exact words describing her last days are these:— The emperor put hei to death: but for that death he suffered the penalty; for in a short time all hts ra.-c lm.| fifed off. Anil nothing old that des; >tisn. endure, more abhorrent, or of a worse aspect In the sight of gods and the good Powers. Iler courage and magna niniiiy. however, extorted pity from the by standers. and this parfi.-ularlv enraged Ves padan. Having lost all hope of life, she b*de this nord go io him. that she. In that darkness underground, bad lived more pleas antsy than he playing the despot, in Rome. Fnhnlmis as this may be. though not im probable. it can hardly.be farther fton) real-, ity than Laurence Jerrold,—a person su perficinlly knowing in "The Real France," which John Lane has lately pubiislmd. Not ding liracti.-ai Sense of the mass of provincial Frenchmen, ' with something to lose, and not the least intention of losing it." ns Srd ney Smith said of Englishmen, does atcadi- I ly hold the unsteady French pnrlianmntarv । leaders to th«ir anchorage. Thai is strik ingly true, nnd makes the Republic safer than any French monarchy has been for 4H conseoutireyears. But these leaders are I not such pasteboard creatures as he deftly caricatures them; he is merely Indulging tn smart writing, so common and so catch ing nfiw in England. Put Mr Jerrold him self info a respcmsible in th* govern, ment of SO.OOO.iXto people, and .ho wduhf either fizzle Ont nt once, or he would cease smart writing nnd turn to th* prosaic busi ness of ruling, ntid obeying the popular voice. Nations ar* not governed for a term of years by such men of straw, set up to be knocked down, such talkative nlbnles. n* he describes in Franc*, during th* past dec ad* and mor*. I must again quote that govl saying of th* English observer. Daniel cen- ’ furies ago, who said: — Men find that nerlon is another thing From whnt they In discoursing papers read- Fl;* worlds nfin.rs require In managing Mnr» arts f;w, SP wherein vou clerks prArpra Those chapters wore plainly written fnr .a tmwapapor nr a magazine, ffhd for an immetllatc sensation: they picture, in some sort, th* daily events of France; h U f fh* v do tint reach th* Soul of things, and will be as forgotten three years hence, as th<* iVA P n ’’'hii’n they were originally scribbled. ! A HALF-CENTURY OF DANCING. — ——- : T. A. HOLLAND'S LONG CAREER. He Han ThukM the l.Htle nnd Mailer* for SO Years the Terp- • ilchorean Art. I These are the days in which the gentle ’ art of th? dance has fallen into the neglect ( uhirh is bound • tn overtake the dear old . fashioned things bi the tearing rush of modern life. The minuet of .colonial days, with- its graceful curtseys and tight steps. i treaded with slow, even measure to soft, । leisurely music, simpiy cannot be done to • day, the age is too swift for it. Instead Jw© have the barn dance, for instance, Hr Iff ch destroy^ tbw.jjlastoj' in the nVombe | low and scatters the fair curls of the ladies ’ from* one eerd of Mie hall to the other. Mourn it as wo may, without doubt the ■ ehl stately (lances are. passing and their substitutes cause the old-time dun-ing mas- HO THOMAS A HOLLAND. tbrs td writhe arid thW disciples to look with, cqpteippt bn the mad romping of the boisterous youth. , Within the remembrance of almost every adult the square and contra-dances were in favor, and the old-timers can many of them take a part in a quadril' or- lancers with-the courtly, eyep steps and flourishes that made the dance charming and. .dig nified. In country places they 'Still mix in a few of‘the contra-dances and on the card 'will be seep “T.ady of the Lake?* "'Haste to lh p Wedding." “Hull's Victory,”' or '.‘Pop Goes. the Wcasef.’' whi.dh psi'd to. be n prime favorite. Even, when. these are danced now. however, the object is more to have violent young America's idea of a good tinle than to exhibit any of the ideals of grace, and as a consequence the digriified Virginia reel becomes a stampede. It would- be interesting to' know how '.large a proportion oFthe people of Spring-' held-, and/of Western Massachusetts, for that matter owe what grace they possess tq-the instruction.of Thomas A» Holland., the veteran dancing master, who.. has taught generations the graceful art. of the old schdol. It is wi.tlt feelings of regret ■that hiA ptipits. present and past, heard of. his intention of giving up his lifelong ac tivity and of bringing to an end .those, evening exhibitions and soirees which hare always marked the end of the dancing year,. with'tliq.bug 'hHd in Apollo hail'du. Friday pvehinc: ' • > MrH-oUand has. beep, at.it for artitpsif..S). years, and' for- 45 joears' a • reception has been held annually. With that record^ be hind him ho is. qua rifled Io speak with authority bn the cbursb'of the art arid its modern trend and indications, He might also, if he chose. compare the .amount of natural grace possessed by the grandchil dren with that of their elders.. hut he wise ly refrains. Modern .. times are full of fads in dancing, as in everything else. and. the favorites, of, early days are now urikijown. in the days when Mr Holland first took up the work every one went to darning school and as a matter of fact was obliged to if he wanted to know how. to dance. Nowadays one may go to a few parties and. imitating the rest, get a kind of a-- whirling motion and a hippity-hop info their feet which passes for dancing and at which they, have the good . time they are looking for. Ball-room dancing can be taught by.anybody because there is so very little to learn to it. A ball of to day lias only the three dances, waltz, two step and shhottiShhe on the program. and these .arc. enough fbr.fhose who .go to them. Mr Holland was born at Imicester in 1537. and learned the machinist's Trade in 'Worcester. Hr came to Springfield in wartime. 1861. and worked as a machinist ar the armory. A congenial spirited group of friends arranged a series of dapbing parties, and Mr Holland's ability in the. line having been discovered they persuad ed him to teach the. rest of them. There wore 15 couples in the group, and the school opened in the dining hall of a hoarding-house On Walnut street. The work taken tip; mory as a lark than as s'-ridus business appealed to \fr Holland. mid having a natural aptjtude for it he gave up hja other .ocenpatmn and studied Iht- art for himself w ifh masters’ in Boston and New .Vqfk.' He .then becan to'take ‘up his xrork wijli ehildroii, in which he lias been ^highly successful. Fred Fruit rif fids city was the lifst boy' in his classes, which' numbered eight children at first. Of late years they have numberqd 2H<(. Th* exhibitions were begun 45 years ago. and the skill nnd grace shown at them on the part of the gatuia pooph* al ways called forth ad miration. When held, in the old City hall they were important social events with crowds in atfCtfdnnie. In 1882 Mr Holland joined the Ambri-. can society of ■ professors of dancing, in ■w hich he held’offices Mid jn whose affairs he figs taken nn. active part. Al. the uieotings of the society the condition and. status- of-' daneitig ate itist-Wsdefl ami help-, fill bints exchaugeil. -The mCniliCra .bring new ideas for steps aiwl dam’cs r and in flit- reports of the society uro the descrip tions.of many (lances which are original with Mr Holland. One of the most effec tive of these was carried out Friday evening, the Spanish qiiadril. which is difficult nnd requires rtimli practice nnd grace: It wns presented bj Mi Holland at the socletj- meeting in ’19O!1. ami met M itil instant fntor. The society dors not njhiw flic art of Terpsichore lo deteriorate, and opposes np.v fantastical and freakish modnrh tcndemi'S. Just now there is an effort on their part to bring hack tjie old niiiiimts into popularity, bill the fact that they hare no pracili'aL value in the bail room is ngainat .thyia. The present <vngc for esthetic-danying, says Mr Holland, is -litrhi-els* than a craze, awl will soon pass It ir. not pmc ticablo for the general piihlir. nnd will not rerclve general furor, ft <nnn-'t bo taught to children, or grown people either, in a class, as out of a class of 20 thorn would l>c probably about three who could do the Movements. The phjfsicnl culture purl of the business, two. is i<q a thint of pinctnnl mine. Knch ideas ihimt bi ihriOd for each individual, and to try and fpjtcll them in a class Is impossible nnd absurd. Those who dafice on the stage have-spent their lifetime In pvactico,, and tpoy urn few in comparison to the nttmbers who g*> to dancing school. Most of the largo number of pupils who IniCc iHtsW.I ththngh tHb cotirfo in "(laticlhg and dcprirlniFnt" realize th* value of thoh- instriwtion. and me eager to have their children have the same opportuuity Mrs Holland has al ways been the collaborator with her hus baud in teaching deportment and attend- ing to the manners of the young lads and l issies in the dressingToonis. where with ■'nt a supervising eye the lessons of the hall would be thrown to the winds in a minuto and bo replaced by a general rough-house. The little folks have al ways been made to feel iit home and that Mr and Airs Holland were interested in them. Their interest was and 'is of the strongest, and nothing pleases them more than to receive the child or grandchild of one of their former pupils into their classes. The pleasant ntnmsphrre of the c'nssrobm. which has been in Memorial. ; Fail fur some time, is the result of un t limited tact, which is rts necessary for । the daneirig master ns a knowledge of the stops. Ihe conduct of n class such as Mr Holland s has had the effect of schooling those who attend nnd educating them since a knowledge of the stops is no easv thing to'Acqtiire. Il is .no easy matter for oric to wholly give up his lifework at once, especially in the face of protesting solicitations, spoil as Mr Holland is hearing on all sides. Die demand on his strength ranged bv the exhibitions, howeve/, lias forced him to, abandbn them, although his in terest in his art continues as strong and fresh as ever. HOLLAND FAREWELL RECEPTION. Apollo Hall Filled With Children and Their Parent, for the Closing Ex hibttion. I homas A. Holland, who - for nearly half a century has fati^ht dancing to the boys and girls of Springfield, brought his career ns a dancing master to a close Fri day night with his 45th annual and last ex hibition, complimentary .jo his classes for misses and masters. It was an exhibition of the standard wall-known to those who have attended these exhibitions in the years that Mr Holland has been leading little people into the grace of pretty move ments bf body and feet, arid Well might hh bo proud to present Friday's classes as the culmination of not only the past seaspn's drill,' hut of his long experience as a master of dancing. Apollo hall had every bit pf available Space occupied by parents, big brothers, sisters, aunts and others who. were interested to see what the ehildron in Whom they were particular ly interested could accomplish and. also to enjoy the pretty figures made by all the little dancers. The platform Whore’ the Philharmonic orchestra played was oc cupied, in part by about 15 dancing mast ers, many of whom came from outside the city to attend. No prettier sight can be imagined than that made by the many little girls and a few boys upon the large dance floor. Pink and blue and white in varying ;shades were the dainty dresses which brightened the seine, and the stockings and dancing pumps in as many colors as the dresses set off the scores of little feet that tripped in .rhythm,to the music, and With a speed not easy for the eye to follow. The program wa.s delightful throughout and there was riot, a number that did not win applause that demanded a repetition, although it was not always possible for the dance, or parts of it. to be done again. The entree was an old-time cbtillon. followed by a two-step, Trish lilt'arid buttei-flies’ frolic, dqne by the ' first-year class with' great skill. A classAlay minuet and waltz were fol • lowed by a tennis dance, origins text by Mr Holland; done by the older pupils in eScellCut form and winning the apprecia tive applause of the audience Another original dance of Mr Holland's; a Spanish quadrille, was featured by three little maids in costume who gracefully xvCut through a number of intricate- movements. • A sehottische an w hich the beys imperson ated 'flames and the girls -moths had un-. usual* features that amused as well as pleased the eye ns; the danw* movements were gone through. The children got a deal of fun out of -this dance. Twoylittle girls dressed in sailor rigg- damced aqsail -.■ot's hornpipe-in a spirited fashion that al most ..brought to the ofeerver"a whiff of the salt , sea and, the-.roll qf a good .ship, as they jigged across the waxed boards. - . puiling-the lines taut and mak-iiig all-ship shape. The audience insisted that this number of the program be repeated, .and the midshipmites did it. with as much vim the second time -as they, did it at first. A Spanish .circle, .danced by all the little girls of the classes, presented a bright scheme of colots' as the dancers carried wreaths of flowers , and scarfs, and in this dance, which closed the program, was io be seen the care with which the little ones had been drilled. There were many twists and. turns that required that the little heads be kept in control as well as. the feet.’ find the pretty flowers, bright scarfs and Happy faces hiade a beautiful’ pictute." Albert F„ Jacobs, who has played at the exhibitions of Mr Holland for 30 years wa 3 at tile piano Friday night. Refreshments were served during an intermission of 15 minutes, which came at the close of the Class program, after which general danc ing was on the- program and the older people were given an opportunity to dance a list of 10 dance numbers. Many 'of the mothers of the children in Friday's ex-- hihition had been in Mr Holland's classes when they .were girls, and nearly every one was anxious for an opportunity to congratulate the dancing -master on. the • successful evening in view of th* fact thit heis now to retire from the work. BIG TUNNEL COMPLETED. Lftetwchherg Bore is Third Lwrikest in Knrope, Being Nine Mlles in Lenntli. -The final obstruction to the Loetschberg tunnel through the Bernese Alps was pierced by the laboints at 3.50 o'clock Sat urday morning. after 5Vi years' work and the expenditure of $20,000,000. The fun nel, which is the third longest’in Europe, measures 14,500 meters, or approximate ly nine miles. IVith the completion of the Loetsehlierg tunnel, which was planned to give Hie Simplon tunnel railway line u ; direct' connection with the railways which tin verse Switzerland fropi north, to south, there.will be a direct through route from Milan to Berne and thence to Calais. The distance from Milan to Calais, by this route will be about 075 miles, or nearly 8(1 miles less than the existing routes. The tunnel will be double-tracked throughout. • 'life Lot’tsChbpfg tiitincl at its highest point Is -1051 feet above the sea level. It ts not, quite so long as the St Gothard,- which is l»G miles long, or the Simplon, w hich is 12*a miles in length. The Loetsch berg tunnel Ims a grade of only seven motors per UKh» meters, is nine yards wide nnd IpL, foot high. It ivas first planned as.a. single-track, line. -The gauge is stand ard. being L4SM (4 feet BL> inchesl. Com- I rcssed nir was used for drilling it. The entire lino from Spiez on Lake Thun to Briguo will be operated electrically. BIG < Hom s FOB MUSIC FESTIVAL. flans for the musical festival ,in this city arc now sufficiently com plete to warrant the management in • promising one of the best fes ticnls' the association has yet llblr,. Tlic les|ivtil chorus, now being drilled under .lolm .1. Bishop, numbers over "Ob voices, the largest company of shivers who have token |t»rt in the festival In recent veers, nnd the gronter part of those uro trained siUgnra who have sung at previous fee illals. This year for the first time flic * entire Orpheus club is singing with th* f’ -tbnl . hortts which will give n splendid volume of male voices. ' Eli in h" will b* Hu big chornl work to be .lone, and as this Ims nm boon sung since 100-4 it nbrmld be hoard with great interest The list of firtlMs is not quite complete, but enough have already been engaged m mark II a- otic of the strongest the association Ims jot se. nroii. The star of th* festival •"i'l IW Mme Izmisn Homer, prima ddnna of the Metropolitan opera -company find on* of the greatest artists who have ever sung in Springfield. NOTES OF MUSIC AND MUSICIANS BUSONI AND HIS NEW SCALE. ' —i .LVi.. i. j k. The Italian Pianist’* New Work on Musical KMhelfc*. The pianist Kiisdrii has ju&t published through Rudolph Schirmer of Netv York n book entitled "A New Aesthetic of Mu sic,” in which he makers tlie revohitKfriary suggestion of a scale based not on seiiii tones, but on intervals equal to a third of a whole step. To support , this view he says:— The tripartite tone (third of a tone) has set some time been demanding admittance, .and we have left the call unheeded. Who ever has experimented, like myself (in a modest way), with this interval, and intro . dm ed either with voice or with violin two equidistant intermediate': tones between the extremes of a whole tone, schooling bis ear and his precision of attack, will not have tailed to discern that tripartite tones are wholly independent Intervals with a pro- DOtniced <4i:iracter nnd not to be confounded with ill-timed semitones. They form a re finement in chromatics based, as at present appears, on the whole tone scale. Were we to adopt them without further preparation we should have to give up the semitones and lose our minor third arid perfect fifth, nnd this loss would be felt more keenly than the relative gain of a system of 18 one-third tones. But there is no apparent reason for giving up the semitones for the sake of the new system. Ry retaining for each whole 'tone a’ semitone we obtain n second series of whole tones lying a. semitone higher than the original series Then by dividing thL second series of whole tones’ into third tones each third tone in the lower series will be matched by a semitone in the higher serie.-. Thus we have really arrived at a system of whole tones divided into sixths of a tone, and we may he sure that even sixth - tone* will some time be adopted into musical speech. Rut ihe toua! system above sketched out must, first of all train the bearing to thirds of a tone without Alving up the semi tones. To summarize: We may set up either two series of third tones with an interval of a semitone between the series or the usual semitonic series thrice repeated at the Interval of one-third of a tone. I he suggestion of usfiig quarter-tones has been made often enmigh, and' supported with easy referenops to the supposed Chi iirse Scale, the details of which are not very well known. Mr Busoni- begins more modestly, but lie carries us in the end even further with his hint of a subdivision into sixths of a whole tone. Wonld such a scale, it may be wondered, differ material ly from the singing 'out bf tune which is already sufficiently prevalent? As for subdivisions of the Scale, it may be remarked that in practice a good singer or pJriyer upon the yiolin unconsciously ob serves even finer distinction?. On the piano a whole tone is a whole tone and a half tone a half-tone, and whatever variation there may be in the tuning is not adjust able. Byt oh thy viojin, the player makes some intervals a little more and Others a little less. The leading tone fs commonly sharped a little as compared with the same tone on the piano, and the major and minor thirds vary perceptibly from the tempered scale. Any violinist can test the ifitei-vajs very precisely by playing any convenient scale that offers open strings- - D niajor, for example, and comparing the Scale pitch’ with the requirements of har mony. Let him establish the second de gree of the Kcale by making the note E a perfect fourth below the open A string, ns-may easily, be done by sounding them together. Then keeping the E,_ Jet him in the, samp, fashion tune carefully a smooth major sixth to C sharp on the A string, and compare the tone thus obtained wish fhe'C sharp as he Would'play it in a scale. The whole'musical system is a Bring of compromises—hence its possibil ities as well as its annoying- inconsistencies Possibly in time the h tub an ear may be educated to the third-df-a-tone scale which Sir Busoni proposes—man may. for that matter...one day. have three cars instead of drily J wo. JVo need not wait so long to’ bbgin exrVerimentirtg. but Singers and violini&'^wTlLdo with th^ir- sejise rps pitqlu They naay prQfi.tablv Wved?xi>erlments -with scales’ to the acousticians and -to pianists, whose sense of pitslr docs uo-t;. matter-if -the tuiieK ,is trustworthy. . Furp.aa contrasted.,.witp tom.P.ered in tonation is commonly thought of as affect ing harmony rather- than melody,, but the experiments of Thaddeus Ca'hill. the in ventor of the telharmonium have given a ’Striking demonstration of the ralae'of a i true scale even for a sipgle melody. For ; the lest Of this the telharmonium is pecu liarly well adapted, because this wonderful invention which converts electric waves into sounds, not only produces tones of absolute purity, but can give a perfect nnd invariable assonance. The struggle tn develop the great possibilities of this fektiire of the instrument has been the most difficult as well as the most brilliant part of-the achievement to which Mr Cahill Tias given 20 years of thought and experi ment. Tim technical aspects of the prob lem' of the long-desired enharmonic key board instrument, in perfect tune in all keys, may be put to one side. Tile point, of j'chgvaHt interest is that in his testu on musical listHicvs Mr Cahill has found that a pure scale makes much more differ ence -with the. character of a .’melody, than is commonly recognized. It is troe that the effect of tempering is not So ronsc-ious ly observed ag in- sustained harmonics, where the "heat" of ope tone-against- »n ---othen forces .itself upon the ear. But the difference is none the less notable, and can he specially well tested by the telharmoni um because it gives scientifically exact and invariable intervals, while the most per fect, violinist may not. play the same pass age twice alike. - even ..though; tire finest car cannot detect the difference. It-, will he seen ihat the 4wo kinds -of investiga tions lead in exactly opposite directions Busoni's toward a new- mechanical sub •dHision with smeller but yqual miifs, and Cahill's toward the far move, subtle niaWr of restoring the infinitesmal-warfiftldns w hich Nature bits - inexorable fixed; and which any equal-divisimi ignores.’. -.One would reform the human- car. the other inerelv perfects musical meebanism, a uuc h more ’ hopeful task. In, referring to" Mr Busoni's plan.- IV. J. Hendersou in the New York Sun discovers.the Mature and origin of the tempered scale:—, **; •It may be said that ttmjjust scale IS found ed on the computation of the ratio oL the vibrations of the.-successive, notes..., When Hie scales of the. Various.keys are thus con structed it Is found that a JmaH irtterval exists bet ween speh notes ds 4 abifrp and G flat Homie tn-order'to haw a piano on whb'h -tbo scale of Its major-ami D flat-could both be played in .lust temperament v* * Should have to have two different piano keys for F sharp . ami ,G flat. Some, kind man onee took ttiif trouble to compute that in or der t» make a piano in Just tempernmeut. ■ apnble of being pUyon 1h alt the major' and minor scales we should hare 84 keys to the octave Radi and Bamoan <n ere simultane ously nt work on evpcrlmems which led ibeiu In show how by Klizhfiy. altering the seUntl fl*- Intervals here and there the equal or m*au * tempered soilles could- be produced, and that with those the modulation.-of keyboard In strumenta through nli- thn tonalities could be ncrompllsbed’ without extending tp* limits of Its extant keyboard.- -Tn other words, they made It possible for tbc littman hand to grasp tiio entire range of modern harmony^ They mad* th* plaqo compositions of BobuSsv and Ilrykn po-sb-ie They made it possible to ar ■ tango a must- drama Of Wagner for piano They made fh* modern plane concerto pos slid*. rnrthsrforff. th* system of efliial temperament, .as wo have nosed. I* wnat makes, modern orchestral muale practicable if we still had. pist tynmoiament the or rheatra would have to cmtflno Itself to a few simple tonnHtlob. Mr it n'onld be hopelessly out of tune If it departed from them Now th* interesting: question arises whetban Mr Busoni would not he entirely gratified by th* reatorgyoh of Just teniperaroent tn the strluga of th* orchostrn, wlioi-o It, is per rm-tly practicable, wlill* the wind, except perhaps tire nccommodntlnc trombones, might retain the moan temperament. We should vfirtaimy thus arrive nt a mat series of new combinations. We should be able to ronsttuet umlodlos with. Intervals of less than a semi timo and we should acquire a substantial body >'f haimbnh- matevlnk wholly freed from the dnnMnntldn of the present'eode of laws The nresSnt code of harinonlc law cannot •erjmisiy nlftrni any composer except when he Ie dealing with fundamentHl har inonles. and then of course be has to, be a good boy. Blit fit any miibr fltbe th*r« la no possible or impossible ’-oinblnatlon of 1 tones which be is not permitted to uag.