THE LITERARY WORLD. ... PAGE. 373 379 381 382 385 386 391 392 392 39 396 ART AND MANUFACTURES IN JAPAN.* THE external appearance of Dr. Dresser's book is sufficiently unusual to claim a word of notice at the outset. The binding is of boards covered with a coarse kind of linen, stamped, in brown ink, with a quaint device in which a solitary and apparently sleeping stork is the principal object. It probably requires a more complete æsthetic education than we have received to appreciate fully the beauty of this cover, which certainly has the drawback of being exceedingly liable to be soiled. The interior of the volume is handsome and pleasant to look upon, the page being a small quarto, the paper of excellent quality, and the type clear, while the illustrations, in black and white, are numerous and are skilfully executed. Altogether the book has the merit of being externally a noticeable one, and would probably be the first which a visitor with a few spare moments, or on the look out for novelties, would take up from among the new volumes on the table or bookshelf. during the past few years. The author would probably be called Dr. Dresser puts forward as his apology "for adding to the number of our books on Japan," the fact that he is "a specialist." He observes: "An architect and ornamentist by profession, and having knowledge of many manufacturing processes, I went to Japan to observe what an ordinary visitor would pass unnoticed." The judicious reader will not fail to remark that Dr. Dresser's temperament is that of a man who is decidedly disposed to "magnify his office," and that the importance of his enterprise and the ability and thoroughness with which it was carried out are not likely to be underestimated by those who accept implicitly the author's own valuation of them. We are disposed to think that Dr. Dresser rather exaggerates the relative importance of the information which he has collected and communicated to the British public; but at the same time we cordially acknowledge that he has produced a curiously interesting book, and one which it was quite worth while to add to the library on Japan, with which the labours of many Dr. Dresser devotes about half of his book to an account of his personal experiences, travels, and observations giving with much carefulness of minute detail his notes upon the manners and customs characteristic of Japan. His description of a Japanese banquet-which included all the luxuries to which the wealthy are, addicted, among them a living fish, skilfully but cruelly arranged and carved, so as to allow the vital organs to remain uninjured and in full operation while the body was eaten-is very elaborate, but certainly not appetising. We are disposed to take Dr. Dresser's general statements about the habits and qualities of the Japanese as a people with 66 a grain of salt," remembering, as we do, that his engagements appear to have made it necessary to rush through the places. visited--he travelled more than 1,700 miles while in the country-and that he necessarily saw a good deal of the brightest. side of Japanese life, and most thingsexcept manufactures and art objects, perhaps—superficially. The book, however, contains, as we have intimated, abundance of curious material, and indeed embarrasses us by the numerous passages of interest which we have been tempted to mark as suitable for illustrative quotation. We can do little more than take a few of these almost at random. By the politeness of a Japanese official, Mr. Sano, who had acted. as Commissioner to the Government of Japan at the Vienna Exhibition, and who. had familiarised himself with the art and manufactures of the West, Dr. Dresser was invited to meet five of the greatest artists of Japan, who had consented to exhibit their skill in his presence. Here is part of this interesting sketch of Japanese Artists at Work. The room in which we assembled to see the artists is of considerable size and is one of broad, charged with Indian ink, makes on the paper, by an almost instantaneous dash, a large irregular mass of grey-black colour. With a smaller brush he now indicates, in close proximity to the grey mass, what appear to be a few feathers; next, at a little distance, the end of a pendent branch. Then, beginning at the top of the paper, he works the branch downwards till it is in the line of the end which was first drawn. Now an eye is drawn, then a bill, then come a few bits of colour, and we see completed, in less than fifteen minutes, a cock and hen pecking in front of a branch of a tree, and, curiously, a great portion of the white body of the cock is grey (being the large mass of this colour which was first placed upon the paper), and as the white hen is seen against the black cock, the stopping of the black gives the form of a great portion of the hen's body. This interesting sketch was kindly presented to me by Mr. Sano. Among the characteristics of the Japanese which Dr. Dresser noticed, and which other travellers have remarked upon, was their extreme politeness. He describes a ceremony which shows that this politeness is the subject of elaborate cultivation as one of the fine arts, and the occasion also serves to illustrate the extreme fondness of the Japanese for what we call articles of vertu. If we recollect rightly, Dr. Dresser mentions one lady who was the proud and happy possessor of no less than seven hundred teapots, all of different patterns! Surely the love of bric-a-brac could no further go. The following is the account of A Tea-Drinking Ceremony. The great peculiarity of this tea-drinking ceremony consists in the exactness with which everything is done. A spoon, cup, or whatever is handled, has to be taken hold of in a particular way, set down in a particular place and touched in a particular part; and everything is done with the same strange precision. What I saw was part of the ceremony of thin tea-drinking," and part of the ceremony of "thick tea-drinking," but the whole is simply a lesson in those laws of politeness which were formerly so rigidly exacted in every mansion and on every state occasion, and which are still largely kept up in the houses of the old aristocracy. Originally, the ceremony was of a secret character, and no servant entered the house in which it took place-the master kindling the fire, boiling the water, making the tea, and, in short, doing everything for the guests; but in later years it has become a mere ceremony of an extremely fashionable cha racter. One or two things in this service struck me as especially strange. Thus, both host and guests knelt from the time they entered the building till the time they left it; and even when the master had to go to a little back room to fetch water, cups, or whatever else he might require, he shuffled on his knees to the slide which served as a door, and then, having opened it, shuffled through the opening till he was well on the other side, when he rose to his feet; but this he must not do while in the presence of his guests. The chief guest, moreover, is the spokesman for the company, and no word is uttered save by the chief guest or the host during the service, be it ever so long. The chief guest also demands everything; thus he asks for tea and refreshments; but the particular moment at which each request has to be made is arranged by the code of etiquette. At opportune moments the chief guest also asks if he may look at the tea-caddy, a spoon, a bowl, or the tea pot. Receiving the necessary permission he shuffles on his knees to the place where the object demanded is, takes it, bows his forehead to the ground, then rising, touches his forehead with the object received, and begins to examine it. Looking at the teapot, he asks if it is silver; then, who made it ; then opening it and smelling the tea, what tea costs'per pound; after which inquiries, he passes it to the next guest, and makes a remark to the host which should, if possible, be at the same time a compliment and a pun. After each of the guests has duly inspected the object, the chief guest shuffles again across the floor, and returns it to its place. Object after object is brought, examined, and returned in the same manner. It is on these occasions that the rare things of the household are used; and the pride which a Japanese manifests in the possession of some little tea-jar, a spoon, or a cup by a celebrated maker is something remarkable. But many would be unappreciated in Europe. One little of the things most esteemed by the Japanese tea-box is put in a silk bag, and then in a box, and then in another box, in order that it may be preserved, and I have seen little rough stoneware jars encased in a similar manner. We must all admire one characteristic of the Japanese-namely, their readiness to devote the utmost care and skill to whatever manufacturing process they take in hand. Dr. Dresser attributes this partly, at least, to the influence of their religion. He thus writes of the Excellence of Japanese Workmanship. This is the strange mingling of Shinto with the life of the Japanese people, whatever be their faith; and even the Mikado, although the head of the Shinto Church, offers prayers for the nation on certain occasions at a Buddhist shrine. This altar-like enclosure which we find in every house is constructed according to rule, and in it that finish is demanded which characterises all Shinto altars; thus this royal enclosure gives a sort of keynote with which the whole house must be in harmony. To me it appears that we have here the cause, to a great extent, of the excellence which characterises most Japanese productions. This little altar gets loved. Offerings are made on it in seasons of prosperity. The flowers so much cherished are arranged in this sacred niche. Thus the Japanese bave constantly before them a sample of excellent work and this sample they have learnt from their early childhood to revere. No one can have failed to notice that all good Japanese works, as well as most which are inferior, are as well finished in the parts that are unseen as well as in the parts that are seen. I have here before me a box which is carved all over, yet the best work is on the bottom. Here is a tray, on the under surface of which is a spray as carefully drawn as the figures on the upper surface; and here is a pot which has a pattern on the bottom as beautiful as that on the parts usually seen, if not more so. These are, however, somewhat exceptional instances; but while it is not usual to find ornament on the bottom of a Japanese work, we yet observe that the finish of the parts hidden is equal to that of the parts exposed. The decoration on the bottom of an object would seem to owe its origin to the fact that all persons receive pleasure from an agreeable surprise, and to the feeling, common to all Japanese gentlemen, that whatever is worn or whatever is used should look simple and unpretending, and yet be worthy of most minute observation. A walking-stick which Mr. Yuco, the late Japanese minister to England, kindly gave me, appears at first sight to be a mere rude hedge-stick, but upon close examination it is seen to have most exquisitely cut metal insects creeping over it-some being half buried in the bark, some crawling out of the little holes, and some running along the surface. Woodern netsukies, or large button-like ornaments hanging from the girdle are preferred to those of ivory, because they are more quiet in colour and less obtrusive. But as gentlemen prefer the more subdued effects the wooden carvings are generally better than those in ivory. In writing-boxes, on the same principle, we generally find a much more lovely decoration inside the lid than on the top. But it is the excellence of the work, whether seen or unseen, that springs from the principles of Shinto, and not the surprises of which we now speak. selection and use of materials for various The ingenuity and skill displayed in the manufactures are noticed, and are curious in the extreme. We quote the following on the Uses of Bamboo and Paper: To enumerate the various uses to which the bamboo is put would be to furnish a list altogether unreadable, for they seem to make everything of bamboo and to treat it in every imaginable manner. It must be remembered that the bamboo is a tough, fibrous, giant grass, with hollow stem divided horizontally at the roots. Thus it consists of a series of cylindrical chambers superposed one on the other, and separated from each other by horizontal wooden divisions, the knots or divisions being very close to each other near the root of the plant, and removed from each other by a considerable distance in the higher part of the stem. It is from these knots that the thin shoots on which the foliage is borne are protruded. Before me, as I write, are a series of carved boxes each made from a section of the stem with two of the transverse divisions, the one forming the top and the other the bottom of the box; and these boxes vary in height according as the joint has come from the centre or lower portion of the stem. Here is a sachi bottle formed of an elongated joint and with an arched handle. On it is a beautiful spray of the magnolia, carved in the manner called cameo, and with a bud so arranged as to become the spout from which the sachi is poured, a plugged hole at the top of the vessel being filled with the exhilarating fluid. Here is a spill bordered with a Greek key pattern, and on one side of which a snake is carved, while on the other we have a flower, the surface being lowered in both cases so that the figure stands out in relief; but, besides the carving, this beautiful spill is enriched with a little lacquer work, in which gold, oxydisel silver, and a warm brown colour, prevail. Here is another spill with flowers cut "in intaglio." Here is a tea-box or tea-caddy formed out of a short root joint. Here is a teapot also formed of a root joint, with the spout carved in the thickness of the side. A hole is made in the top, to which a lid is fitted, and the handle consists of a tuft of lateral shoots. Here is another made out of two cells, and three of the dissepiments, the one being utilised as the handle. But before me I see scoops made of portions of the stem, trays formed of the horizontal divisions, both carved and plain; medicine boxes; portable writing-cases; a box formed by splitting a portion of the stem lengthwise; a nest of boxes, consisting of a number of superposed joints; a censer in the form of a tripod and many other things. But the Japa nese attach handles to portions of the stem, and thus make useful ladles. They use large joints for the carrying of water as we use pails. They make fences of a hundred different kinds by plaiting and intertwining the thin shoots in various ways. They make sun-blinds by threading little bits of bamboo on strings, as we thread beads; they split it into laths and form mats by attaching the strips together with threads; they make the spokes of their fans of bamboo. They split a stem throughout a portion of its length, and make a handscreen by spreading the spill portions and pasting paper over them. They make their fishing-rods of bamboo, they convey water in bamboo stems from which the transverse members or dissepiments have been removed; and the gutters around their houses are formed of this material. The baskets are of the bamboo (willow is not used in Japan for basket work), and by hammering it till it is reduced to a broken and fibrous condition, they form a fuse used for blasting operations, while the toothbrush is a bit of bamboo stem, with the end rendered fibrous by hammering. These are some of the uses to which the bamboo is put in Japan, but they are only a few out of a multitude. The Japanese paper is tough and fibrous, and we have seen that they treat it in various ways so as to give to it the appearance of other substances. Thus they make from it a material closely resembling leather, and also an imitation of tortoise-shell so like the substance imitated, that it might readily be taken for the real shell. They make a paper so gossamer-like that the air passes through might almost be used for ladies' veils. In its leather-like form paper is used for the making of pocket-books, tobacco-pouches, pipecases, satchels, and for most of the purposes to which we should apply leather. In the form of imitation tortoise-shell it is inlaid into cabinets and trays. Japanese pockethandkerchiefs are formed of paper, and some of these may be rubbed up into a ball without their tearing, when they become as soft as the finest cambric. Small parcels are almost invariably tied with string formed of twisted paper. Waterproof coats are formed of paper, as well as the "aprons of the jinrikishas, and paper is also put to all those uses to which we apply it in England. it as it would through a net, and which د, Our surprise at all the strange and beautiful things which the Japanese manufacture is certainly increased by the knowledge of the fact that they contrive to do their work almost entirely withou machinery, trusting to manual dexterity and persistent labour. Absence of Mechanical Contrivances. The whole of the manufacturing processes of Japan are conducted without the aid of any mechanical contrivances whatever, and with the simplest of tools. I do not think that the country boasts a saw of sufficient length to cut through a large log of wood. The saw has the form of a butcher's chopper, and when it has cut well into the angle at the end of a log, the log is turned, and work begun on the opposite side. By repeated turnings a plank is cut. The plane cuts pulling toward the workman, and so does the saw. I never saw a lathe with a continuous rotary motion, save in the Royal Arsenal, which is nothing more than European worshop; and I never but once saw a labour-saving contrivance of any kind in the country. Rice is husked by being placed in a sort of mortar into which a pestle falls. The pestle is attached to a horizontal piece of wood supported by a fulcrum in the centre. On the end opposite to the pestle a man stands, thus the pestle is raised; but by his jumping off, the pestle falls. By this repeated stepping on the end and jumping off, the process of husking the rice is accomplished. a In the corner of a field, I once saw one of these mills with a kind of bucket placed on the end of the beam where the man would stand. A small water-spout coming from a hillside filled this bucket with water, when it raised the pestle; but the act of raising upset the water, and thus let the pestle fall. A humorous native sketch of an energetic workman, who, by his exuberant energy has RECOLLECTIONS OF ROSSETTI.* Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. By T. Hall acquaintance with Rossetti's poetry? Outside of a narrow circle, so little has hitherto been known about Rossetti's early life, that even the meagre account contained in the introductory chapter of the Recollections furnishes an appreciable addition to the common stock of information. Rossetti's father was an Italian poet and patriot, thrown upon our shores, like so much other treasure, by one of the political convulsions in the earlier part of the century. From him the son derived the Italian temperament and the meterised his spirit and his art. From childdiæval predilections which ever charachood, the boy was a painter and a poet; and in his early manhood he allied himself with the band of men who were destined to make the name of Pre-Raphaelite memorable in the history of English art. Millais, Holman Hunt, Madox Brown, and Burne Jones, were among his intimate friends; and it is to be regretted that Mr. Caine has not been able to tell us more of the ideals and aspirations of this period in his friend's life. One adventure at the studio shared by Mr. William Morris and Mr. Burne Jones is worth repeating: When in early years Mr. William Morris and Mr. Burne Jones occupied a studio together, they had a young servant maid whose manners were perennially vivacious, whose good spirits no disasters could damp, and whose pertness nothing could banish or check. Rossetti conceived the idea of frightening the girl out of her complacency, and calling one day on his ominously up to her with the wildest glare of friends, he affected the direst madness, strutted his wild eyes, the firmest and fiercest setting of his lower lip, and began in measured and resonant accents to recite the lines Shall the hide of a fierce lion Be stretched on a couch of wood, For a daughter's foot to lie on, Stained with a father's blood? The poet's response is a soft Ah, no!'' but the girl, ignorant of course of this, and wholly undisturbed by the bloodthirsty tone of her eyes on the frenzied eyes before her, and the question addressed to her, calmly fixed answered with a swift, light accent and rippling laugh, "It shall if you like, sir! Rossetti's enjoyment of his discomfiture on this occasion seemed never to grow less. In this society of friends Rossetti held an important position, and though almost unknown to the outward world, his influence affected many who hardly knew his name. He was a recluse in literature and in art. His pictures were rarely seen in for a private audience. If they made a public gallery; his poems were written their way into the outside world, it was by a circuitious course, and against the wish of their author. Yet among the circle of his associates, Rossetti's power was distinct; and he so impressed his personal characteristics on those about him, and so grafted the qualities of his own work on theirs, that when the poems first came to light those unacquainted with their origin and history might well have taken them for copies instead of models. The story of their publication is connected with the tragedy of the poet's life. A master-no uncommon event turned into a lover, and married one of his favourite pupils; and for two years all went happily. Then Mrs. Rossetti's health began to fail; and to alleviate the paroxysms of pain, she had recourse to laudanum. After an overdose of the opiate, one morning, she was found lifeless in bed. In the first wild despair of grief, Rossetti took the little manuscript volume containing the only copy of his poems, and laid it in his wife's coffin to be buried with her; and there, in the grave at Highgate Cemetery, it lay for more than seven years, till Rossetti repented of his impulsive sacrifice, and with his own inclinations, strengthened by the importunity of his friends, had the vault opened and the volume exhumed, conduct which it is easier to condone in silence than to palliate by argument. When the poems were ultimately published in 1870, they received an enthusiastic reception. For the time being, "Lothair" was their sole rival in popular favour. Their publication led, however, to an embittered controversy, which will for long be memorable in the history of English literature. An article, with the signature "Thomas Maitland," appeared in the Contemporary Review, denouncing the "Fleshly School of Poetry" in general, and Rossetti's poems in particular, on the score of prurience and sensuality. When it became known that the pseudonymous writer was Mr. Robert Buchanan, the excitement of those whom he had specially selected for attack, knew no bounds. Mr. Swinburne defended himself with all his armoury of indignation and scorn, and Rossetti replied in gentler fashion to the charges brought against him. Mr. Caine does his best to maintain a position of impartiality in this controversy, but he does not touch the heart of the matter. It is quite possible to admit that Rossetti wever wrote a line inspired by sensual passion, and yet, at the same time, to maintain that some passages in his poems are unpleasant and unwholesome, if not prurient. The clear fact is that Rossetti does at times dwell on the body and its upholstery in a morbid manner; the cause is not far to seek. He was a painter as well as a poet. In the studio it was by outward form that he had been accustomed to express spirit, and in the study he instinctively had recourse to the same mode of representation. The opening stanzas of the "Blessed Damozel" could never have been written except by one who was half an artist; and those marvellous transitions of feeling, in which, perhaps, he excels all other poets of his day, are but another effect of the same fundamental cause. This double power is a source of weak ness as well as of strength. As Rossetti painted, so he wrote-spiritual thought found only corporeal expression. The controversy unhinged him. He became an entire recluse, and in the excitement of this period his habitual use of chloral developed into a tyranny from which he never set himself free. He refused to write anything more, and abandoned himself to isolation and melancholy. Only after a considerable interval did his friends succeed in inducing him to attempt fresh work. Mr. Caine gives the following account of their efforts : rence. Rossetti's Later Poems. It is an interesting fact, well known in his own literary circle, that his taking up poetry afresh was the result of a fortuitous occurAfter one of his most serious illnesses, and in the hope of drawing off his attention from himself and from the gloomy forebodings which in an invalid's mind usually gather about his own too-absorbing personality, a friend prevailed upon him, with infinite solicitation, to try his hand afresh at a sonnet. The outcome was an effort so feeble as to be author of the sonnets of all but unrecognisable as the work of the "The House of Life; but, with more shrewdness than frankness, the critic lavished measureless praise upon it, and urged the poet to renewed exertion. One by one, at longer or shorter cise did more towards his recovery than any intervals, sonnets were written, and this exerother medicine, with the result besides that Rossetti eventually regained all his old dexterity and mastery of hand. The artifice had of it, serving, indeed, the twofold end of imsucceeded beyond every expectation formed proving the invalid's health by preventing his brooding over unhealthy matters, and increasing the number of his accomplished Encouraged by such results, the works. friend went on to induce Rossetti to write a ballad, and this purpose he finally achieved by challenging the poet's ability to compose in the simple, direct, and emphatic style, which is the style of the ballad proper, as distinguished from the elaborate, ornate, and condensed diction which he had hitherto worked in. Put upon his mettle, the outcome of this second artifice practised upon him was that he wrote "The White Ship," and afterwards "The King's Tragedy." Thus was Rossetti already immersed in this revived occupation of poetic composition, and had recovered a healthy tone of body before he became conscious of what was being done with him. It is a further amusing fact that one day he requested to be shown the first sonnet which, in view of the praise lavished upon it by the friend on whose judgment he reposed, had reposed, had encouraged him to renewed effort. The sonnet was bad; the critic knew it was bad, and had from the first hour of its production kept it carefully out of sight, and was now more than ever unwilling to show it. Eventually, however, by reason of ceaseless importunity, he returned it to its author, who, upon reading it, cried: "You fraud! you said this sonnet was good, and it's the worst I "6 ever wrote." The worst ever written would perhaps be a truer criticism," was the reply, as the studio resounded with a hearty laugh, and Had the tact of Rossetti's friends in duced him to abandon chloral as well as to resume his literary activity, a remarkable life would not have been prematurely sacrificed; for in spite of renewed intellectual interest and vigour, this morbid attack left irreparable mischief behind it, and habits which only grew inveterate with time. It was at this period that Mr. Caine's acquaintance with Rossetti first began. A lecture sent by the author to the poet was acknowledged by a letter; the letter opened a correspondence; and the correspondence proved the prelude to an intimate friendship. The mass of letters which Mr. Caine has preserved and published possesses, as we have said, only a secondary interest, except so far as Rossetti writes about himself and his work; but the descriptions based upon personal knowledge have a higher value; and the sketch of the house in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, now famous through many associations, deserves quotation : Rossetti's House. Upon settling at Chelsea, he began almost insensibly to interest himself in furnishing the house in a beautiful and novel style. Old oak then became for a time his passion, and in hunting it up he rummaged the brokers' shops round London for miles, buying for trifles what would eventually (when the fashion he started grew to be general) have fetched large sums. Cabinets of all conceivable superannuated designs-so old in material or pat tern that no one else would look at themwere unearthed in obscure corners, bolstered up by a joiner, and consigned to their places in the new residence. Following old oak, Japanese furniture became China ware (of which he had, perhaps, the Rossetti's quest, and following this came blue first fine collection made), and then ecclesiastical and other brasses, incense burners, sacramental cups, crucifixes, Indian spice-boxes, medieval lamps, antique bronzes, and the like. In a few years he had filled his house with so much curious and beautiful furniture that there grew up a wide-spread desire to imitate his methods; and very soon artists, authors, and men of fortune having no other occupation, were found rummaging, as he had rummaged, for the neglected articles of the centuries gone by. What he did was done, as he used to say, less from love of the things hunted for than from love of the pursuit, which, from its difficulty, gave rise to a pleasurable excitement. Thus did he grieve down his loss, and little did they think who afterwards followed the fashion he set them, and carried his passion for antique furniture to an excess at which he must have laughed, that his primary impulse was so far from a desire to "live up to his blue ware," that it was more like a desire to live down to it. The account of the first interview between the friends is of no inferior interest, and if the limits of space allowed, we should like to have given Rossetti's repudiation of the pre-Raphaelite principles, which proves that the movement had other recreants besides Millais. Rossetti at Home. Very soon Rossetti came to me through the doorway in front, which proved to be the entrance to his studio. Holding forth both hands, and crying, "Hulloa!" he gave me that cheery, hearty greeting which I came to recognise as his alone, perhaps, in warmth and unfailing geniality among all men of our circle. It was Italian in its spontaneity, and yet it was English in its manly reserve, and I remember with much tenderness of feeling that never to the last-(not even when sickness saddened him, or after an absence of a few days, or even hours)-did it fail him when meeting with those friends to whom to the last he was really attached. I should have described Rossetti at this time as a man who looked quite ten years older than his actual age, which was fifty-two; of full middle height, and inclining to corpulence, with a round face that ought, one thought, to be ruddy, but was pale; large grey eyes, with a steady, introspecting look, surmounted by broad, protrusive brows, and a clearly-pencilled ridge over the nose, which was well cut and had large breathing nostrils. The mouth and chin were hidden beneath a heavy moustache and abundant beard, which grew up to the ears, and had been now streaked with grey. The forehead was large, round, without protuberances, and very gently receding to where thin black curls, that had once been redundant, began to tumble down to the ears. The entire configuration of the head and face seemed to me singularly noble, and from the eyes upwards full of beauty. He wore a pair of spectacles, and, in reading, a second pair over the first; but these took little from the sense of power conveyed by those steady eyes and that bar of Michael being, however, rather negligent than other of a mixed black-brown and auburn, and were " Angelo." His dress was not conspicuous, wise, and noticeable, if at all, only for a straight sack-coat, buttoned at the throat, descending at least to the knees, and having large pockets cut into it perpendicularly at the sides. This garment was, I afterwards found, one of the articles of various kinds made to the author's own design. When he spoke, even in exchanging the preliminary courtesies of an opening conversation, I thought his voice the richest I had ever known any one to possess. It was a full deep barytone, capable of easy modulation, and with undertones of infinite softness and sweetness, yet, as I afterwards found, with almost illimitable compass, and with every gradation of tone at command, for the recitation or reading of poetry. The extracts that have been selected from Mr. Caine's Recollections are sufciant to show that the book, even though incomplete and fragmentary, contains much valuable material; and in default of a fuller and more systematic account of Rossetti's life and work, will be most acceptable to the general public. We may add that Mr. Caine, though laying undue stress on some trivial personal details, never thrusts upon the reader's notice his generous kindness and unselfish devotion to a suffering friend whom he regarded with special reverence and compassion. In Christ; Or, the Believer's Union with His Lord By A. J. Gordon, D.D., author of "The Ministry of Healing," &c. (London: Hodder and Stoughton. 1882.) A refreshing, invigorating, and exceedingly helpful volume. In some things we differ much from the author, but we gladly acknowledge his devout spirit, his spiritual insight, his strong grasp of truth, and his great earnestness. Cruci fixion, Resurrection, Baptism, Life, Standing, Prayer, Communion, Sanctification, and Glorification in Christ, are the subjects of the respective chapters. MR. PICTON'S "OLIVER CROMWELL."* It was with some surprise that those * Oliver Cromwell: the Man and His Mission. By J. has taken certain points of view only; while other and lesser students can view this wonderful man and his great career from other points. There are, as he very properly notices, points of comparison and contrast between our own times and those, of which it is important that we should take notice. He is, no doubt, correct in the remark, that, "On the whole, we have much even yet to learn from the unconventional vitality of conviction, characteristic of those days." We should at once inform our readers, that Mr. Picton makes no pretension to research, and acknowledges his obligations to Mr. Carlyle's work for the main facts of Cromwell's career. This is a new "setting" of an old historic jewel; and the setting is executed with skill and power. The first sentence with which our author greets his readers is characteristic and impressive:"The history of England during the seventeenth century was like a stormy day relieved of one brief interval of splendour at noon." That interval was, of course, the period between the stern struggle of the Civil War and the death of the Protector. The writer adopts the happy method of introducing us to the subject of his story in the very height of his greatness and power, in the year 1654, when an ambassage from the United Netherlands came to this tween that country and our own. country earnestly requesting peace beOther countries equally desired to be on good terms with a man who had shown himself capable of dealing sternly and successfully with those who disputed his position, or cast any insult upon the fame of the country he had been called to rule. that time, "he was a man just passing middle life, of a stature rather above than below the average, while indomitable vigour was evident in his furrowed and weather-beaten face. At Velvet attire could not disguise the uncourtliness of his figure, but the bearing of a soldier gave dignity to his roughness. His light brown hair, touched with grey, fell around his capacious head in flowing locks, symbolic of his independence of precisian rules. Beneath his broad forehead and heavy eyebrows, divided by deep lines, his eyes were luminous with a keen vitality, and suggestive of a sincere, eager, passionate soul. His large nose, and rough red complexion allowed him no claim to beauty; but his strong jaw, and lithe, capacious mouth showed that the secret of his rule over men was strength rather than grace." So, does Mr. Picton describe Cromwell; and thus the great man looks in the steel portrait which forms the frontispiece of the volume, from the miniature by Cooper in the possession of Archdeacon Berners. of the ancestry and historic heritage of The author gives an interesting sketch Cromwell in his first chapter; and thus at once reveals his power for presenting a vivid p.rception of persons and events |