Sneer - Yes-no genius! Ha! ha! ha!

Dangle - A severe rogue! Ha! ha! But you are quite right, Sir Fretful, never to read such nonsense.

Sir Fretful-To be sure,- for if there is anything to one's praise, it is a foolish vanity to be gratified at it; and if it is abuse - why, one is always sure to hear of it from one damned good-natured friend or another!

ROLLA'S ADDRESS TO THE PERUVIAN WARRIORS

From Pizarro

The scene represents the Temple of the Sun. and Virgins of the Sun, discovered.

The High Priest, Priests, A solemn march. Ataliba

and the Peruvian Warriors enter on one side; on the other Rolla, Alonzo, and Cora with the Child.

TALIBA - Welcome, Alonzo! [To Rolla.] Kinsman, thy hand!

A -[To Cora.] Blessed be the object of the happy mother's

love.

Cora - May the sun bless the father of his people!

Ataliba-In the welfare of his children lives the happiness of their king. Friends, what is the temper of our soldiers?

Rolla Such as becomes the cause which they support; their cry is, Victory or death! our king, our country, and our God!

Ataliba-Thou, Rolla, in the hour of peril, hast been wont to animate the spirit of their leaders, ere we proceed to consecrate the banners which thy valor knows so well how to guard.

Rolla-Yet never was the hour of peril near, when to inspire them words were so little needed. My brave associates― partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame!-can Rolla's words add vigor to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts? No! You have judged, as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours. They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule: we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate: we serve a monarch whom we love a God whom we adore. Whene'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress! XXIII-836

Whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship. They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error! Yes: they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection; yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs-covering and devouring them! They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our plain answer this: - The throne we honor is the people's choice; the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy; the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this; and tell them. too, we seek no change; and least of all, such change as they would bring us.

[Loud shouts of the Peruvian Warriors.]

Ataliba [embracing Rolla]-Now, holy friends, ever mindful of these sacred truths, begin the sacrifice.

[A solemn procession commences. The Priests and Virgins arrange themselves on either side of the altar, which the High Priest approaches, and the solemnity begins. The invocation of the High Priest is followed by the choruses of the Priests and Virgins. Fire from above lights upon the altar. The whole assembly rise, and join in the thanksgiving.]

Ataliba-Our offering is accepted. Now to arms, my friends; prepare for battle!

JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE

(1834-)

INETEENTH-CENTURY mysticism is the dominant quality in the novels of John Henry Shorthouse. The spirit which in

formed the Tractarian movement, which produced The Blessed Damozel' in poetry and 'Dante's Dream' in painting, produced in fiction John Inglesant' and 'The Countess Eve.' It is a spirit not wholly free from artificiality, because it is alien to the temper of the times; yet it possesses fascination for those who prefer the twilight passes of the world, leading perchance to the stars, above the electric-lighted highway leading direct to a city. It combines sensuousness with spirituality, day-dreams with keen knowledge, the Christianity of the Divine Comedy' with a kind of pagan delight in the offerings of earth.

'John Inglesant' is the best known of Mr. Shorthouse's novels: it is also the most perfect embodiment of this spirit of mysticism in fiction. The hero, whose name gives the title to the book, is a cavalier in the court of King Charles the First. There is an exquisite aroma about his character: he is a

gentleman and a saint, a courtier with the JOHN H. SHORT HOUSE soul of an anchorite. He adheres with scru

pulous fidelity to the requirements of his order, yet he is haunted with visions of the Divine life: he is a mystic and a man of the world. It is the character of Inglesant which perhaps explains the fascination of this novel for a certain class of modern readers. The present generation are pre-eminently children of the world. Science has made it well-nigh ridiculous for men to do anything but turn to the best advantage what is here and now. So they nurse their desire of the impossible in secret; but they love its embodiment in fiction. John Inglesant is a thoroughly modern creation. His environment of Renaissance Italy and Cavalier England is due to the tact of the author, who perceived that the setting of this century for one who sees visions would be as incongruous in fiction as it is in actual life. The Rossettis and the Cardinal Newmans must be placed in long-ago beautiful years, if they would seem wholly natural.

It is in John Inglesant that the temper of the author is most fully expressed; and not of the author only, but of the poets, painters, and others of his ilk. There is the sensitiveness to the loveliness of nature; not the Wordsworthian spirit of philosophic detachment from it, but a kind of sensuous union with it, making it partaker both with the holy and unholy aspirations of men. When John Inglesant kneels to receive the sacrament at the church of Little Gidding, he is conscious of the "misty autumn sunlight and the sweeping autumn wind," as part of the gracious influence surrounding him. When he is tempted to ruin himself and another, he sees his evil passion reflected in nature:

"He gazed another moment over the illumined forest, which seemed transfigured in the moonlight and the stillness into an unreal landscape of the dead. The poisonous mists crept over the tops of the cork-trees, and flitted across the long vistas in spectral forms, cowled and shrouded for the grave. Beneath the gloom, indistinct figures seemed to glide,-the personation of the miasma that made the place so fatal to human life.

"He turned to enter the room; but even as he turned, a sudden change came over the scene. The deadly glamour of the moonlight faded suddenly; a calm, pale solemn light settled over the forest; the distant line of hills shone out distinct and clear; the evil mystery of the place departed whence it came; a fresh and cooling breeze sprang up and passed through the rustling wood, breathing pureness and life. The dayspring was at hand in the Eastern sky.»

In his other novels, Sir Percival,' 'The Countess Eve,' 'Little Schoolmaster Mark,' 'Blanche, Lady Falaise,' Mr. Shorthouse makes similar use of nature. It is always the outward and visible sign of man's inward and spiritual state. There is the same mystical conception of human dwelling-places, as in a sense the houses of the soul. The beautiful ducal house in 'Sir Percival,' the Renaissance palace of the Duke of Umbria in John Inglesant,' is each expressive of the temperament of those who have dwelt therein. Architecture, to the mystic, is perhaps the most significant of all the arts. Shorthouse makes use of it, as much as of nature, to embody the mental moods of men. For music and musicians he has keen sympathy. The Countess Eve' is built out of music; the keen, wild sobbing music of the violin, its tremulous passion, its unutterable aspiration. The Master of the Violin' is another story of the same order. Music is constantly heard in John Inglesant' and in Sir Percival.' Shorthouse understands the value of music as Wagner understood it,- as all mystics understand it. It is the embodiment of all the senses; it is the embodiment of the soul.

As might be expected of a novelist who dwells in the half-seen world, the characters of Mr. Shorthouse are less like human beings than abstractions. John Inglesant is more of an ideal than of a

man. Constance in Sir Percival' is a Giotto woman,-a pale prayer only half clothed with humanity. The Countess Eve is delicate and unreal; and no force of passion can give life to her. Yet to be with these creations is to be in noble company. The idealism of their author is inspiring and regenerating. It is all the more so because it is clothed in very beautiful literary form. The style of 'John Inglesant' is exquisitely fitted to the thought of the book. Its passionate mysticism, its sense of the Unseen, its obedience to the Vision, make of it a work which could ill be spared to an age productive of Zola. Mr. Shorthouse was born in Birmingham, England, in 1834. He is a manufacturer in his native city.

I

INGLESANT VISITS MR. FERRAR'S RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY From John Inglesant'

T WAS late in the autumn when he made this visit, about two months before Mr. Ferrar's death. The rich autumn foliage was lighted by the low sun, as he rode through the woods and meadows and across the sluggish streams of Bedford and Huntingdon. He slept at a village a few miles south of Little Gidding, and reached that place early in the day. It was a solitary, wooded place, with a large manor-house, and a little church. close by. It had been for some time depopulated, and there were no cottages nor houses near. The manor-house and church had been restored to perfect order by Mr. Ferrar; and Inglesant reached it through a grove of trees planted in walks, with latticed paths and gardens on both sides. A brook crossed the road. at the foot of the gentle ascent on which the house was built. He asked to see Mr. Ferrar, and was shown by a man-servant into a fair spacious parlor, where Mr. Ferrar presently came to him. Inglesant was disappointed at his appearance, which was plain and not striking in any way; but his speech was able and attractive. Johnny apologized for his bold visit, telling him how much taken he had been by his book, and by what he had heard of him and his family; and that what he had heard did not interest him merely out of curiosity, as he feared it might have done many, but out of sincere desire to learn something. of the holy life which doubtless that family led. To this Mr. Ferrar replied that he was thankful to see any one who came in such a spirit; and that several not only of his own friends, -as