ever remain a witness of the illimitable power and value of the algebraic analysis. The discovery was effected through the agency of scores of equations, involving as many unknown quantities, and requiring the labor of years to solve them. Possibly the planet might have been detected, sooner or later, by other methods, mayhap by accident, or as a legitimate consequence of the remarkable activity and keenness of modern planet-hunters, aided by the improved telescopes of these days. But that fact does not detract, in the least, from the merit of the mathematical analysis by which the discovery was actually achieved. The achievement was not so much an astronomical as it was a mathematical discovery.

Other triumphs of the science which dareth thus "to model heaven and calculate the stars," will be noticed in succeeding chapters upon the higher branches of mathematics.

CHRISTIANITY IN ART.

VI.

THE MADONNA AND CHILD.

The most essential thing in the study of art is faith in one's power of growth in taste and insight, and in the power of appreciating genuine art works. All that is required is persistence. When one has not taste, he can form no conception of what it is like. When one is not impressed by a great work of art, he can not see how it is possible for any one ever to be impressed with it. It is necessary that the individual shall adopt some habit of careful analysis of artworks, to be kept up at intervals for his lifetime-and the impatient air of the pupil who studies for "marks" should be laid aside. We can do little by mere cramming." We should be shocked at the irreverence of one who was anxious to "get religion" in as expeditious a way as possible and have done with it. If he wished to cram up his religious lessons and have his name recorded in the book of life, and then return to the consideration of worldly matters, as more congenial to his taste, we should recognize in him one who was entirely unregenerate. Regeneration implies a change in the heart—a change in one's ideal, a change in one's tastes and desires. So it is in art, though not to the same degree that it is in religion; for art, like religion, is a spiritual energy of the soul. Art has for its object the making over of material shapes and appearances as they appear to our senses, so that they shall be manifestations of the divine, and become "the splendor of the true," as Plato called the beautiful. The one who is unregenerate in his tastes is contented with shapes and appearances in the world that are ugly-that lack gracefulness, or subordination of matter to mind, and that lack spirituality, or the manifestation of the conquest of the soul over the lusts of the flesh. With the development of a taste for art there is a develop ment of a love of the manifestation of the divine in sensuous forms.

The love of art is, however, to be sharply distinguished from religion-it is no substitute for it, but, on the contrary, may become something positively unholy. It may lead to a preference of external manifestation to the love of the divine "in spirit and in truth." But the same may be said of all good things that fall short of holiness itself: they may be taken by the soul as all-sufficient in themselves, and then they become obstructions to grace. But like all other good things of a finite character, the love of art must be exercised in subordination to spiritual religion. Industry, patriotism, parental or filial love, even philanthropy, may be allowed to absorb the whole soul, and in that case may become a sort of idolatry, while if subordinated to the worship of God all these things become graces in a Christian character.

RAPHAEL'S SISTINE MADONNA.

In the highest rank among Madonnas stands the socalled "Sistine " Madonna of Raphael ("Madonna di San Sisto"). Perhaps it might be said to be the universal verdict of critics that this picture is in a rank by itself apart, far surpassing all other pictures presenting the same subject. In other pictures we often see the Child represented as a mere human child, not to be distinguished from any ordinary good and well-favored infant. The Child of the Sistine Madonna has a sublime expression and indicates its superior rank in an unmistakable manner. The madonnas are too often merely pretty women or charming young mothers, exhibiting a natural pride in the glory of the child in their arms-but the Sistine Madonna is a picture of a mother worthy to be the honored being that she was. She has the look of a woman elevated above the rank of all others.

This work bears the traces of being rapidly finished, and it would seem as though Raphael must have painted it all at one time and all with his own hand and perhaps without first making a sketch or drawing of it. The picture, accordingly, has the appearance of a holy apparition. They tell us that it was painted for a special occasion and was to be carried in a procession. It was destined to be placed in the Church of San Sisto, in Piacenza, and it now forms the chief attraction of the Dresden gallery.

Almost a hand's breadth of the upper part was carelessly bent inward so as to conceal the rod on which the curtains slide-producing a very bad effect upon the whole picture by shortening the green curtains and the upper light space. Many of the early engravings of this picture show that they were taken before the folded part was restored to its true position.

In the center of this picture the curtains are represented as rolling back and revealing to view the glories of heaven -a perfect sea of cherub faces bursts upon our view. But in front of them a greater glory seems to obscure their radiance. The Madonna floats forward and downward in the picture, holding in her arms the most wonderful Christchild. Above the altar in the back of the Church, this vision is conceived to appear.

As the Virgin moves forward her veil floats back and away from her head and shoulder in a graceful manner, giving a needed background for the serious features of the face. Were the veil to be removed, the head would appear against a too brilliant glory, and our eyes could not fix themselves on the majestic countenances of the Mother and Child. The same forward movement that causes the veil to swell with a current of air, causes also the blue robe that she wears to be drawn to one side by the puff of wind. This movement of her garment causes a glimpse of a red tunic to appear, worn under the outside robe of blue.

To the left of the Virgin stands Santa Barbara in the act of kneeling, with her eyes cast down modestly, abashed by the severity in the eyes of the Child, and the sudden glory which has shone around her when the curtains were drawn asunder.

On the right of the Madonna (our left) kneels the transfigured pope, Saint Sixtus, praying for the blessing of the child on some object which he indicates by a gesture with his hand. Is it the congregation of the Church of San Sisto? Or is it the world of humanity, or the Christian Church at large? We can see in the looks of the Virgin and Child that it is something of general import-a serious and impressive spectacle. For, as the two gaze out upon the spectacle, their eyes open with surprise and soon they are lost in reverie; the future looms out of the present and they stand before it wrapped in sober contemplation.

The eyes open with this surprised look in all correct copies and reproductions of the original; but some engravers have softened the look by slightly closing the

eyes, thus producing a much more lovely expression of the faces, though at the same time losing the sublime and almost terrible look that makes so strong an impression on the visitor at Dresden.

In order to give the proper basis for comparison or contrast with the Child, the artist has painted two cherubs in the extreme foreground. They lean on the parapet and look up to see the wonders of the church-perhaps they gaze, with that childlike simplicity and transparent frankness, at the human world-so different from the world from which they have come as messengers or heralds to announce the approach of the Virgin and Child. These children-angels have the same serious expression that the Madonna and Child have, so as to be in keeping with the tone of the rest of the group. But they have no look of maturity in their faces, and no feeling of responsibility shows in their eyesonly astonishment at something which is not familiar to them. The childishness of the angel faces heightens by contrast the earnestness of the Christ face.

On the left side (to us) of the parapet is the triple crown of the Pope-saint, and at the back of Santa Barbara can be seen a glimpse of the tower which is her symbol, for she is the patron saint of warriors and of defensive structures.

In most of the engravings there is a slightly self-conscious look in the face of Santa Barbara. It is effected by giving a little more fullness to her right cheek, a very bad touch to give the picture. In the original the thin face of the saint shows only humility and self-restraint and a frightened look at the awful presence which the Child and Madonna have assumed on this occasion.

Both Saint Sixtus and Santa Barbara seem in this picture to be desirous of exhibiting something that they have prepared for the approval of the Madonna and Child. The gesture of the saint is very marked, and the attitude and expression of countenance of Santa Barbara indicate the same thing. The wondering gaze of the cherubs, and the surprise and serious thoughtfulness of the Madonna and Child, all point to the same thing. The question that we asked before, in considering the gesture of the saint, comes up again perpetually as we study this marvellous painting: what is the motive that causes that expression?

It is noteworthy that this was painted the same year that Martin Luther nailed his ninety-five theses to the gate, and received his summons to the diet at Augsburg. The news of this did not make much noise in Italy at that time, we may suppose, although it arrived about the time Raphael was engaged on this work. Do the Madonna and Child perhaps see the great schism which will rend the Christian Church of Western and Central Europe in twain and result in fearful persecutions, inquisitions, burnings at the stake, thirty years' wars, national churches in England and other northern nations, great migrations of peoples for religious liberty, Huguenot expulsions, and English-puritan colonizations? The world at the time Raphael painted this Madonna had indeed a portentous look. The new world had recently been discovered, Mexico was just then being conquered by the Spaniards, Henry the Eighth was writing defences of the Catholic faith, but soon would turn against it and establish a State church. The "Time River," as Goethe says, "was swollen to overflowing." If some faint premonition of these things were in the mind of Raphael and received expression in the supernatural earnestness of the chief personages in the Sistine Madonna, it was a strange fate that should carry away this Madonna out of Italy and the home of the Catholic church into the northern home of Protestantism, where the Madonna received no such ceremonial homage as in Catholic countries.

HOLBEIN'S MADONNA OF THE BURGOMASTER MEIER. Next to the Sistine Madonna, thinks Mrs. Jameson, is

that of Holbein, of which two copies exist, one in Dresden, long famous, and one in Darmstadt, which claims to be the original. The Darmstadt picture shows us faces that are evidently intended for quite careful portraits. The Dresden copy shows the same faces slightly idealized, and therefore is more likely to be a later copy, though by the hand of Holbein himself.

The Holbein Madonna is worthy to be considered in the same connection with the Sistine Madonna, because of the extraordinary motives introduced.

It is a votive Madonna-i. e., made to fulfill a vow. The rich burgomaster had promised a painting for the chapel in case the Virgin should intercede for his sick child, and heshould be restored to health.

In the painting we see the Madonna standing in a recesson a rich Turkey carpet, holding the Child in her arms, while on the right hand kneels the burgomaster, praying to the Child with firmly clasped hands and solemn, earnest face. In front of him kneels his son, who places his hands on the shoulders of a nude infant that stands on the carpet and looks with interest at his left hand held out with its palm extended. On the left of the Virgin kneel three females, one past middle age, and the face muffled up and: nearly concealed with head dress and neckerchiefs. The next is the burgomaster's wife, and the one in the foreground is the daughter (Anna Meier).

The noteworthy feature in the picture is the appearance of the Child in the Madonna's arms. With an air of languor arising from actual weakness and pain, he rests his head on his arm as a pillow placed on his mother's neck, and with his left hand seems to make a gesture toward the family group below. His face seems to be wasted with sickness, and (in the Darmstadt copy) to be distorted about the mouth and chin. The eyes are partly closed, and lack expression, except that of pain and bodily suffering. The body is somewhat emaciated. But the child standing on the carpet is beautiful and well.

What is the explanation of this strange composition? Those who had seen only one of the copies thought that possibly the Christ-child had been left unfinished by the artist. But both copies present the same sick child in the Madonna's arms. Besides, how could a painter think of letting a painting go from his hands with the chief figure deformed and incomplete?

The biographer of Holbein thinks that both children rep-resent the same child: the one in the Madonna's arms being the child wasted with disease, and the one on the carpet the same child restored to health through the merciful interposition of the Virgin.

Other traditions tell us that the child represents the soul. of the elderly woman on the left, who may have recently died. Some accounts make this woman to be the first wife of the burgomaster, and others make her to be the grandmother of the family.

The most popular explanation of the picture, and the one endorsed by Ruskin, supposes that the Virgin Mother places. her own child on the carpet by the group and takes up the sick child in her arms. The sick child may have died and his hand held out may be a gesture of farewell to his parents and relatives. Or it may be that he will be restored to his parents again in health.

I can not for my own part adopt this explanation. It seems to me that Holbein would not have ventured to represent the Virgin as putting down the Christ-child in order to take into her arms another child. All her offices are conceived as mediatory and effective only through her influence with the Christ-child. It seems to me that the Christ-child and not the Madonna is the chief actor in this picture. While it would not be proper to represent the: Madonna as neglecting her offices due to the Christ-child

for the sake of another child, yet it would be a beautiful motive (according to my view) to represent the Christ-child as affected by the earnest prayers of the Burgomaster family, and by the sight of the suffering infant. He at once grants their prayer by taking on himself the illness of the infant and by thus restoring him to immediate health.

It was an exquisitely fitting representation, therefore, that Holbein should introduce into this picture Christ acting as a willing sacrifice for others even when an infant in his mother's arms. It is his grace, his sympathy with pain, his readiness to bear the sufferings of others, that are exhibited here. He holds out his left hand with a mute blessing on the family, and the Burgomaster's child stands there, suddenly well and strong. A moment before and he had been sick and feeble, and had been supported entirely by the hands of the youth, his brother. Now he feels strong and ein support himself, and in his surprise at the cessation of pain he looks at his arm and hand, now restored to healthy appearance and vigor. The Christ-child has suddenly a. sumed the diseased condition of the other: even while the family are praying. For they are represented as not yet realizing the change in their child: the youth looks sober and sad; the sister is very serious; the Burgomaster looks up to the Christ child with a face glowing with faith and piety. He seems to feel assured of the answer to his prayer. The Virgin and Child of the Sistine Madonna seem to have a vision of the future, and to see all the meaning of the sacrifice made by Christ, as history shall unfold itand hence, while gazing out of the picture they suddenly become thoughtful and see inwardly. The Virgin of the Holbein Madonna intercedes, and the Christ-child displays his infinite graciousness by taking on himself the ills of the invalid child, and thus blessing the pious Burgomaster family.

In the Catholic religion the Virgin symbolically presents to the devout worshiper the tenderness and love of God, which is as that of a mother toward her infant-a love that stoops down to humanity in its utmost feebleness and helplessness, and cares for it just as much as if it were the highest and completest realization of saintliness and rationality. In art forms we see that a people celebrates its ideals of what is divine. It is worthy of remark in this connection that Dante closes the last part of his "Divina Commedia” with a canto that begins with a hymn to the Virgin; while Goethe closes the second part of his “Faust" with a "chorus mysticus," that celebrates the Virgin with the words:

"The Eternal-Feminine leadeth us on."

Those great poets could find no adequate symbol for the grace of God toward imperfect creatures except that of the mother-love, and hence they emphasize God's tenderness by magnifying the influence of the Virgin (Regina Cœli) in heaven; for it is love that is manifested, not only in abstract laws and general measures for the good of man, but it tenderly cares for individuals and their wants and desires, giving good gifts to each without considering what is deserved or earned, any more than the mother considers the earnings and deserts of her infants who have as yet no sense of individual responsibility.

Consider, in this connection, the opposite extreme of artistic representation which we have already discussed, in Michael Angelo's "Last Judgment."

[NOTE.-If the reader should desire to study carefully the Holbein Madonna, he may get from J. P. Soule, 338 Washington St., Boston, Mass., Holbein, No. 2 (catalogue number), medium size, giving photograph of the Dresden copy (30 cents unmounted), and B. 30, (giving engraving of the heads in cabinet size, 15 cents), and No. 3, No. 4, No. 5, No. 6, No. 7, and No. 8, giving the Darmstadt copy and its details, magnified, 15 cents each.]

[End of Required Reading for April.]

"COME UP AND BE DEAD."

"And they heard the sweet voice following after, more and more faintlyhalf calling, half singing, 'Come up and be dead, come up and be dead."' JENNIE WREN," IN DICKENS.

Mr. Riah, come up to the roof and be dead,
From your wearisome life below;
Come up and walk with a freer tread

Where the cool soft breezes blow.
It is high, and the blue sky seems so near,
You can come and be dead, and peaceful here,

Be dead to the roar of the crowd, you know,

To your grim task-master watching there, And alive to the rest, and peace and glow, The freedom and bliss, of the upper air, Where the burden falls, and the band of pain Seems tenderly loosed from heart and brain.

Oh! wise philosopher, Jennie Wren,

From your perch on the roof of London town, Like a chime of bells to the hearts of men, Your quaint, weird call comes ringing down, Come up and be dead to the deafening roar, And alive to the peace of the Sabbath shore.

A child in years, yet so old in the pain

Of treading a toilsome, darkened way, With a spirit climbing through rack and rain, Up the shining stair to a clearer day. "With your back so bad, and your legs so queer," Yet wise and strong in your wholesome cheer.

And I think that over the jasper walls,
The angels echo the call to-day,
And the voice of the over-spirit calls,

Come up to the heights of the soul away, Be dead to the cross, and the stinging pain, And reach to the thought of infinite gain;

Be dead to the falsehood, and ruth and wrong,
And close your ears to all weary sound,
And listen awhile to the peaceful song
The universe sings as it circles round
And lie like a little child at rest,
Quiet and calm on its mother's breast.

Dead to the world, and alive unto God, May we learn to be as the years go by, Climbing daily, from smoke and sod,

Up to the broad roof nearer the sky, Where the inner vision shall clearer grow, As the gates ajar swing to and fro.

Miss. —“With respect to the use of this title when two or more persons of the same name are spoken of or addressed, there is a good deal of diversity. Some give the plural form to the name, as 'The Miss Smiths;' others to the title, as 'The Misses Smith.' In favor of the first may be cited Boswell, Northcote, Malone, Goldsmith, De Quincey, and Wilberforce. The latter form is preferred by Bishop Horne, Sir E. Brydges, Charles Lamb, Southey, and Sir R. Peel."— Grant. The easiest way out of the difficulty appears to be to speak of "the Miss Smiths," but in addressing them in correspondence to write "To the Misses Smith." Arnold in his Grammar says, "With respect to the Miss Thompsons or the Misses Thompson, I am decidedly for the Miss ThompNo one would think of speaking as we are told to

sons.

write."

FASHIONS AND PHYSIOLOGY.

Fashions and physiology are not linked together from their association, but because of their divorce. The spirit of unreason seems to inspire the inventive genius of the modern modiste, just as it inspired her mediæval predecessors in the days of the farthingales and stomachers.

History repeats itself; and so does fashion. In its ceaseless round of variation common sense rarely gets an opportunity; and then never for long. Fashion oscillates within extremes, and only now and then happens to cross the line of common sense; from being on one side, it soon passes to the other. Paris is responsible for fashions. The taste of the French governs the world! The French, if they do not love extremes, certainly practice them. In politics they pass from Republicanism to Cæsarism; from Democracy to Imperialism. So, when the pendulum of fashion begins to swing back from one extreme, it passes steadily on till it reaches the opposite extreme. Crinolines came in with the physical needs of a great personage; now for some time skirts have been so straight, that it is impossible for the wearer to step out properly, and as to running-well, the less said about that the better-though we are passing through a phase of lawn tennis. When some person's hair grew thin she adopted “pads" and false hair to eke out her scanty locks; and, presto! every woman, whether she possessed abundance of hair or not, must follow suit; diseases and parasites of the hair notwithstanding.

The goddess of reason was once adopted as their deity by the French, at a time when such worship seemed singularly inappropriate; and her sway was brief. The goddess of unreason would seem the more permanent deity for the volatile race; though her worship is not avowed. Where is the unknown sanctum from whence issue these edicts, more absolute than Russian ukase or Turkish irade? Even the most obedient devotees can not, in my experience, give an answer, or even a clue. Yet they obey, unhesitatingly. The car of Juggernaut is not more pitiless than is the rule of fashion. Victims fall under it, but their sufferings are unheeded by the admiring crowd of votaries.

Take the most recent fashion of shoes. The heel of the human being projects outwards, or rather backwards, and gives steadiness to "the sure and certain step of man." But fashion has decided that the heel of the boot or shoe shall get as near the center of the instep as possible. Instead of the weight of the body resting upon an arch, in the modern fine lady it rests upon pegs with the toes in front, which have to prevent the body from toppling forward. Then the heel is so high that the foot rests upon the peg and the toes; and the gait is about as elegant as if the lady were practising walking upon stilts. In order to poise the body on these two points, a bend forward is necessitated, which is regarded as the correct attitude of the "form divine." It is needless to say that there are few ankles which can stand this strain without yielding; and it is quite common to see young ladies walking along with their ankles twisting all ways, or perhaps with the sole of their shoe or boot escaping from under the foot, and the side of the heel in contact with the ground. With such modern improvements on sandals (which allow the feet perfect freedom and play) the present mademoiselle, when she attempts to run, is a spectacle at which the gods-well, not quite that, but at which her mother might well weep.

Then, again, what has physiology to say to evening dress? Decency hid her head in shame long ago at low dresses, and has been silent. Physiology says such dresses are a violation of the laws of health. Let it be granted they do not entail much harm in the heated atmosphere of dining-room and drawing-room, yet what of the drive backwards and forwards, even with the help of numberless rugs and wraps?

What remarks have been made from time to time about the long tarrying in cold ante-rooms, halls, and passages at royal drawing-rooms? of colds and chills and of unprotected lungs injured thereby? It beseems us not to parade the horrors of "a drawing-room" here; but the fact is well enough known, that many a residence along the shores of the Mediterranean has been the long outcome of such exposure.

Whether it be that he is a less æsthetic creature, or that convenience presses more strongly upon him than upon the gentler sex, man certainly escapes the grave changes of dress seen in the other sex. He mildly oscillates from the weakness of pegtops or Knickerbockers to continuations of a fan-like character, where the trowsers almost conceal the boot, as is the apparently permanent fashion with our bluejackets. The lappel of the coat covers the tip of the lung just where the low dress leaves it exposed, as if inviting disease to settle there. The shirt front is exposed in a very liberal manner in man; but a well-starched linen shirt front is no bad protection against a rude blast, provided the exposure be not too prolonged.

Even when there is no low dress, the upper portion of the chest in women is often far too thinly clad. Above the corset there is nothing but the dress-body over the tender skin. Fair reader, my connection with a hospital for diseases of the chest tells me somewhat about female underclothing, or perhaps rather the want of it. In private practice, too, opportunities are afforded for observation of the scanty and utterly insufficient underclothing worn by many whose means do not prevent their indulgence in proper raiment. A thin chemise is often all that is worn under the corset, even in the coldest of weather. It is a perilously pernicious practice. If ladies would only wear something approaching the merino vests, etc., seen in gentlemen's hosiers' windows, they would not require the heated rooms at present rendered necessary from the insufficient attire now in vogue. To be sure, this admits of heavy overclothing being worn when out of doors-cloth jackets, furs, furs trimmed with fur, and all the paraphernalia of costly outer attire in which the female heart rejoices. But stouter underclothing would be far, far better, in every way. It would admit of lighter outer-clothes, and be compatible with a healthy stroll, even for those who are not unfamiliar with a carriage.

Then what shall be said about the corsets? What does the Ladies' Rational Dress Association, with Lady Haberton at its head, say about the advertisements in the Queen anent corsets?-"They reduce the size of the figure without causing any injurious pressure, while their graceful shape adds a new charm to the form." Whether the audacity or the mendacity of this statement is the greater may be a matter on which opinions can differ, the magnitude of each being so great. A liver compressed till the marks of the ribs are visible after death; that is not" injurious pressure!" Neither is displacement of some of the less fixed organs

injurious pressure," I suppose? To have the viscera driven downwards until displacement follows, is quite a trifle from the modiste's point of view, perhaps; but to the physician it is a grave matter, often entailing ill-health for the rest of a lifetime. And as to the "graceful shape" of a wasp-waisted lady; that, too, only exists from the modiste's point of view.

Then as to the lower limbs; why are they to be merely concealed from view by flowing skirts? decency is honored, but why not health? Warm woolen coverings to the lower limbs are quite as desirable for the softer as for the more robust sex.

Next as to hats or bonnets; common sense, as representing physiology, has never attempted to seriously discuss a lady's head-dress. It is scarcely possible to observe the