From The Argosy. ON MOSAIC. THE great value of Mosaic consists in its indestructibility. The most carefully prepared pigments fade; fresco is affected by damp, and easily injured by accidents. The finest works of Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, and other great masters, are gradually becoming effaced, or clouded in obscurity. A few more generations, and copies more or less imperfect, engravings, and photographs, will be all that remain to verify the tradition of glories that have been; the glow of colour and richness of tone, even now deepening into hues too sombre, will be things of the past. Mosaic is, as far as human work can go, permanent. Not being merely superficial, the surface may be injured with impunity. Ground down and repolished, the picture reappears in its pristine beauty, all its colours fresh and pure, as when first it left the atelier of the artist. Had the ancients given as much attention to perfecting the art of working in mosaic as they did to the kindred arts, what invaluable records would have remained to us! The works of Apelles and Zeuxis, had they been imitated in paste, would have become imperishable possessions, and the state of painting in the palmy days of Greece have been no longer a matter of speculation. borders, being merely a regular arrangement of small stones, or tesseræ, in geometrical or other figures. The opus musivum was the pictorial mosaic, in which natural objects were represented, and paintings copied. The word mosaic is said to be derived from the Latin musivus. By the French it has been called indifferently mosaic and musaic. The ancient Romans were accustomed to erect pavilions, or summer-houses, in their gardens, where they placed the interesting or curious objects they happened to collect. These pavilions were dedicated to the Muses, and were generally decorated with tessellated pavements and panels. Hence, from the same source, our museum and mosaic. Pliny observes that, in his time, mosaics had "left the ground for the arched roofs of houses." These more elaborate mosaics were composed of glass; work in this material was then a new invention. The Egyptians of Alexandria were especially skilful in glass work, and in a peculiar kind of small mosaic, a fine specimen of which is amongst the gems in the British Museum. It represents a winged goddess, kneeling, on a ground of blue. The effect is that of an exquisitely-painted miniature, and if the back of this little slab had been polished, as well as the face, it might perhaps never have been recognized as mosaic. It seems that amongst the ancients mosaic was applied merely to decorative The manner in which the Egyptians propurposes; and in Greece, as far as we duced these miniature mosaics is curious. know, its use was restricted to those pave- King thus describes the process: "A ments called "Lithostrata." Pliny men- number of fine glass rods, of the colours tions an artist of the name of Sosus, who required, were arranged together in a attained to the greatest excellence in this bundle in such a way that their ends repkind of work. He laid down a pavement resented the outline and shades of the at Pergamus, known as the "Asarotus object to be depicted, as a bird, or a flower, æcus," ," "the house that has no sweeping," exactly as is practised at present in the where the remnants of a banquet were manufacture of Tunbridge ware. This represented lying on the floor so naturally, bundle was next enclosed in a coating of that they had all the appearance of having glass, of a single colour, usually an opaque been left there. by accident. There was blue; then the whole mass, being fused toalso a dove imitated in the act of drinking, gether sufficiently to unite all the rods with the shadow of its head thrown upon into one compact body, was drawn out to the water, and other birds, pluming and the proper diameter. Thus the rods all sunning themselves on the margin of a became equally attenuated, without losing bowl. This pavement was considered a their relative positions, and the surroundmarvel in the art of mosaic at that day. ing case of glass, when the whole mass Mosaic work was introduced into Rome in the time of Sylla. A pavement in tessera was laid down under his direction in the Temple of Fortune, at Præneste. Roman mosaic work was constructed in four different styles — the opus vermiculatum, the opus sectile, the opus tesselatum, and the opus musivum. The first three are only suited to pavements, or decorative panels, or was cut through at certain intervals, formed the ground of a miniature mosaic, apparently composed of the minutest tesseræ, put together with inconceivable dexterity and niceness of touch." It is needless to dwell upon the oft-repeated tale of the decline and renaissance of art; of course mosaic shared the fate of painting and sculpture, and revived with them; though, as was natural, it followed rather than preceded the revival of painting. The church of San Marco, at Venice, is a perfect museum of mosaics, where its history and progress may be traced from the earliest time downwards. There it may be seen in every stage of progress, from the curiously stiff drawing and quaint conceits of the Greek artists from Byzantium, to the expressive and beautiful works of the Zuccati. In 1225 the works of the Greek artists, at first so much prized, were already surpassed by the Tuscan, Fra Jacopo, or Fra Mino da Turrita, belonging to the order of Minor Friars. He was considered in his day the best living mosaist, and executed works both in Florence and Rome. At this date there was already a school of mosaists at Rome, in which the family of Cosmati acquired their excellence. more and more into use. It is at present divided into two kinds-the Florentine and the Roman. The Florentine work is in real stone. At first, only black, white, and gray were used, the figures being thus represented in simple chiaro oscuro. But about the year 1563, in the time of Duke Cosmo de Medici, many veins of rich marble were discovered near Florence. This discovery gave a new impetus to the workers in mosaic, who were, by means of these marbles, enabled to imitate the colours as well as the forms of the objects they wished to represent. To these were added lapis lazuli, agates, and even precious stones. When the latter are used, they are sawed into thin laminæ, and applied like veneer. In the execution of this description of mosaic, a slab of marble of the requisite size is prepared for the ground. On this the Lorenzo di Medici was an admirer of design is traced; then small cavities are mosaic as of all other forms of art - chiselled out, and into these pieces of the and wished to introduce it into more gen-requisite colour are introduced. They are eral use. In a conversation with a Flor- fastened into their places by cement, or entine painter of the name of Graffione, mastic. The French have also adopted Lorenzo mentioned his intention of having this plan. Though beautiful decorative a large cupola ornamented with mosaic. works may be produced in the Florentine The painter replied that he did not think there were artists equal to the task. "We have money enough to make them," replied Lorenzo. Graffione still doubted; but his patron persevered, and entrusted the proposed work to the miniature-painter, Gherardo, who lost no time in producing a specimen, choosing for his subject a head of San Zenobio. This pleased Lorenzo so much that he determined to have the chapel of San Zenobio at Florence enlarged, and decorated with mosaics by Gherardo. He associated with him, however, Dominico Ghirlandajo, who had more invention; and thus the work proceeded satisfactorily. The next to interest himself deeply in the subject of mosaic was Titian, who furnished designs for the skilful mosaic-workers who were then uprising throughout Italy. It is partly, no doubt, if not principally, to the guidance and encouragement of this great man that we owe the fine works left by Vincenzio Bianchini and Francesco and Valerio Zuccati, sons of Titian's first master. The Judgment of Solomon," in the portico of San Marco, is one of the finest specimens of the mosaic of this period. It is "so beautiful," says Vassari," that it could scarcely be executed more delicately with the pencil and colours." Since that time, mosaic has been brought mosaic, it is not so suitable for the imitation of paintings as the Roman. The natural stones are neither sufficiently various nor sufficiently delicate in tint. The Roman mosaic is executed in coloured glass, of which no less than 10,000 different tints are required and produced. The colour is added when the glass is in a state of fusion. When thoroughly mixed, the liquid is taken out with a large woodenhandled iron ladle, and poured upon a slab of smooth, flat marble. As it cools, it is flattened by the application of another piece of marble, until the mass is an inch or more in thickness. Before the glass cools sufficiently to become hard, it is cut into pieces of the required size and shape by a sharp iron tool. When quite cold, the pieces are placed in a box, each tint having a separate compartment. Gold and silver are frequently introduced into mosaic. These are prepared as follows: Pieces of yellow glass are moistened with gum-water, and to these gold or silver leaf is applied. The gilded glass is then placed upon an iron shovel at the entrance of the furnace: when it becomes red, it is withdrawn. This process renders the gilding so secure that it is as permanent as the glass itself, and resists any atmospheric influence to which it may be exposed. A frame is next prepared of the size of the picture about to be imitated. On this is laid a cement, composed of a mixture of chalk, brick-dust, gum adragant, and white of egg. This forms the ground for the design. The same kind of cement is used to fasten the glass cubes in their places. These are arranged with small iron pincers, and beaten down into their places with a wooden ruler or mallet. The surface is thus rendered flat, and is afterwards polished in the same manner as plate glass. For the small pictorial mosaics, the modern Roman process more nearly approaches that of ancient Alexandria. Small coloured rods are prepared from a kind of easily fusible glass or enamel. These are softened by the aid of a lamp, and then drawn out into a thread. This is broken off into the lengths required by the thickness of the intended picture. The ground consists of a sheet of copper, overlaid by cement, into which the glass threads are fixed. After the surface is ground and polished, the interstices are filled in with wax of a colour corresponding to the glass. Some interesting specimens of modern Roman mosaic, together with samples of the material, are to be seen in the Geological Museum, in Jermyn Street. Mosaic copies of the large pictures that are now being made for St. Peter's, at Rome, have occupied from twelve to twenty years; and few even of the smaller copies can be produced in less than five or six. It is by no means such mechanical work as might at first be supposed. A knowledge of art is required, as well as great taste and judgment. Amongst the modern mosaists of Rome, a lady the Signora Isabella Barberiis celebrated for her talent, both in design and execution. Her father, Signor Barberi, fell into bad health, when she undertook the direction of his studio; for in mosaic work, as in many other arts, there are portions that can be done by inferior hands, under skilful superintendence. The Cavaliere Luigi Moglia is also an eminent mosaist; his copy of the Madonna della Seggiola, purchased by the Emperor of the French, is said to be one of the finest modern specimens of the art. On account of the enormous time and expense required to produce a mosaic picture of any size, the work can never be undertaken with a view to profitable speculation. Such works can only be the result of government patronage, or that of wealthy individuals. It was not till about the year 1839 that attention was directed towards mosaic work in England. The invention of Mr. Prosser, who contrived a plan of preparing clay so as to form a perfectly uniform and hard substance, first led to it, though his invention was at the time only applied to the manufacture of buttons. Mr. Minton took it up, and turned Mr. Prosser's plan to more valuable use, by manufacturing encaustic tiles. It was farther carried out by Mr. Maw, assisted by Mr. Digby Wyatt; and these combined labours have resulted in the beautiful tessellated pavements now coming into such general use. Pictorial mosaic is of still later introduction into this country, though so well adapted to resist the dampness of the climate. The great expense of this kind of work, however, almost precludes its use, except in public buildings. Mr. Penrose calculated that it would cost £50,000 to decorate St. Paul's with mosaic according to the original design of Sir Christopher Wren. These decorations have since been begun, and promise to be successfully carried out by the skill of English workmen. It has been thought advisable to avoid a double experiment at first; the materials have consequently been procured from the celebrated manufactory of Salviati, at Murano. The Mausoleum, at Windsor, is ornamented in a like manner with what may be called the Venetian mosaic. When it was found that the frescoes in the Houses of Parliament were beginning to be affected by damp, it was resolved to carry on the decorations in the more durable material. One space that over the door of the passage leading to the House of Lords has already been filled in with a mosaic picture representing St. George. The height at which it is placed, and the deficiency of light, forbid examination into the details of workmanship, but the clearness and richness of tone, as compared with fresco, is obvious. Mosaic work in pictra dura, or natural stone, is now also practised in England. but it is, of course, subject to the same limitations as the Florentine work. Thus we may hope to see a school of mosaic successfully established in England, and no doubt at the forthcoming Exhibition, specimens of this beautiful art will form one of its attractions. From The Cornhill Magazine. been hardened, and a toll-bar- true sign of civilization — erected. IN QUEST OF DIAMONDS. SINCE June, 1870, an endless stream of By eight o'clock the sun is high, and the waggons, carts, and horse-traps has been oxen look tired. They are let loose, and flowing from the port of Durban, in the quietly wander off to graze, at their will, colony of Natal, to the diamond-fields, on in the pastures that as yet are common to the Vaal River, five hundred miles distant all. The fire is lighted, and the kettle to the westward. These vehicles belong placed thereon. From the waggon-chest to parties of two or three or four, banded in front canisters of coffee and sugar, together in an industrial co-partnership bread, and other eatables are forthcoming. for a period of several months. Men of When the water boils coffee is thrown in all ranks and occupations have been smit- by handfuls, a burning brand is stirred ten by the mania. Men whose fingers about in the kettle, and the beverage is never handled any tool less delicate than complete. The Kafir drivers consume a pen have gone cheerfully to work with vast portions of stirabout made of maizepicks and shovels in quest of the precious meal and water porridge, in other gems. Here is a group of four youths, words the staple of their daily food, who have left their office-stools and com- and nutritious in an eminent degree. We, bined their savings, in order to purchase too, take our share of the aliment, adding this handsome waggon and oxen, and fit it thereto sugar, and milk when we can get out with supplies for a twelvemonth's it. What bread is to the Englishman, "dig." If they find nothing they will not potatoes to the Irishman, maccaroni to the starve, and on returning will betake them- Italian, rice to the Hindoo, such is maizeselves to their old employment; they will meal to the Zulu Kafir and to the Anglohave had a year's adventurous life in the African. desert, a year's hardening experience of Deliciously blue seems the sky, as lying manual labour. Here is a different party on our backs under a spreading fig-tree, we an elderly man of magisterial presence; see it through the rustling leaves; the a younger man, of languid aspect and mil- eager chatter of the Kafirs round their itary air; a younger and a gayer still. pot, and the barking of dogs at a homeThe one has left his bench, the other his stead near, are the only audible sounds. club on diamond-searching bent. Their After a two hours' rest the oxen elements are less congruous than the brought up again, lazily enough — each other, and before the diamond-fields are has a name, and knows it: they are ranged reached a disruption will have taken place. in order, as they stand in the team; thongs Now we come to a huge travelling struc- are thrown round their wide-branching ture, a Noah's ark on wheels, dragged by horns; by two and two they are brought twenty oxen, yoked two and two, and con- out and yoked together, until the long line taining a party of eighteen men of a is complete. Then the big whip is taken poorer order, who are unable to provide down from the side of the wagon; the themselves with independent means of sjambok or short lash of sea-cowhide is locomotion. Big as this travelling edifice seized, the word "yek" (I give it phonetis, it will reach its destination safely. A ically) is screeched out, crack goes the more original turn-out follows, in the whip, thud goes the sjambok, and with a shape of a Scotch cart drawn by eight sleepy groan the slow vehicle moves away. donkeys, pulling cheerfully and well. An Our first "outspan," as these stoppages or English boy of sixteen is in charge of this stages are called, is over. party, going, for the first time in his young life, out into the world on his own account. Such are but some of the types of travelling equipage one meets on the road to the diamond-fields. are After a few miles the aspect of the country changes. Its pleasant park-like character- -so varied by tree and shrub, so broken by glade and gorge, by white sandstone precipices, in whose chinks We get our last look of Durban from and crannies bushes find footing, and by the top of the Berea, a continuation of musical streams flowing deep-hidden the bushy range that skirts the shore. amidst leaf-thrown shadows- ceases. We Nineteen years ago, this bush was the re- round "Cowie's Hill," from which the eye sort alone of bucks and leopards, with oc- wanders delightedly over a rare panoramic casionally an elephant or a lion of vagrant expanse of land and sea, and pass through propensities. Houses, cottages, and gar- a more open basin, where Pinetown lies. dens clothe the hill now, and even mon- A sprinkling of houses forms this townkeys are retiring before the white man's ship. In that little church many a fierce advances. The deep sand of the road has 'battle has been fought between the adher These are ents of our redoubtable bishop and his wool and skins troop past us. the produce of the far plains to which we Beyond Pinetown rises another long flat hill the top of a plateau in fact. Scarcely a house is now passed for miles. The remains of a stable are visible, where, in the old days, when travelling this road on horseback, I once found a night's shelter, sharing a bundle of hay with a small family of pups. On through sticky roads, over wide grassy plains, until another range of hills is met. From the top of these, grand landscapes are stretched out. The road, mostly scarped out of the hillside, follows a ridge, on one side of which sinks a region of chaotic South African weather is very capricious, and the range of its action very partial. On getting to the summit-level, we seemed to have reached another latitude. The roads are so soft and muddy as to be almost impassable. Soaking rains drive bitterly across these table-lands, and as the bush has vanished from the scene there is no shelter from the elements., grandeur, the vast Inanda basin, walled in Now begins the other side of waggon- by great precipices, and filled with hills travelling. Without the waggon all is tossed and torn by the action of water in wet and muddy within all is close and remote ages into every imaginable form. dirty. The oxen labour wearily through Each of the innumerable glades that streak the deep, heavy clay of the roads. At last the slopes is a botanical study. Hard we reach another waggon in great distress. work it is to get into them; when there The wheels on one side have sunk above you are amply repaid. In some, trementhe naves into a rut of exceptional depth, dous masses of primary rock torn from and that melancholy but common experi- the hills above are tumbled together. ence, a stickfast," has occurred. It is an open, untented transport-waggon, heavily laden with iron and beer. The big, ponderous casks have all been unloaded, and our aid is enlisted to help our neigbour out of his trouble. Making up our minds to halt for the night, we" outspan," and join our oxen to those of the other waggon. By dint of lashing and shrieking, the thirty-six beasts are at last prevailed on to drag the stranded vehicle out of its resting-place on to harder ground. The oxen are then set adrift, and we employ the afternoon in helping to load up again the released waggon. This operation will be repeated very many times ere we reach to tumble at a touch, may be handled by the diamond-fields. Waggon-travellers even more than mariners are dependent upon such mutual offices of friendly service. Your neighbour's case may be your own to-morrow, as it was ours on many a weary occasion before the goal was reached. The next morning breaks brightly. Lingering later than usual, so as to let the sun do its work upon the roads, we creep on again. Waggons piled high with Trees and shrubs spring out of their in- stones twenty stalwart men without shifting an inch. Once, when stopping for health's sake at the comfortable "half-way inn" that nestles among these hills, I heard, one Easter Sunday, the service of the Church read from one of these singular rocks. All round spread the majestic outlines of this rugged scenery; mountains sixty miles distant might be seen piercing the horizon; not a trace of man's presence was apparent to the eye, but the solemnity of this |