SAMUEL R. WELLS, EDITOR.] Published on the First of each Month, at $3 a year, by the EDITOR, S. R. WELLS, 389 Broadway, New York. Contents. PAGE Henri Rochefort..... 201 Phrenology in the School-room 203 Manhood and its Development 204 Concentrated Progress of the World 205 "Just"-Neither More nor Less 206 Light Literature 206 The Body-Wha: is its King?, 207 The Abuse of Drugs......... 208 Advantages of Crying........ 208 Phrenology in the West...... 209 Kisses 210 A Woman's Work upon the Prusso-Austrian Battle-field 210 ..... 211 Comfort... 214 The Journal. Man, know thyself. All wisdom centers there; To none man seems ignoble, but to man.-Young. HENRI ROCHEFORT, EDITOR OF THE "LANTERNE." HERE is a young, wide-awake, clear-minded, highly educated, outspoken, incautious, frank, free, "high-pressure," republican Frenchman. He has a sort of no-fear, don't-care expression, which would look even an emperor in the face "Who are you?" He is versatile, and say, racy, emphatic, combative, sarcastic, critical. How much of the milk of human kindness, how much humility, penitence, or compunction he possesses, this deponent sayeth not. His religion will not deter him from playing the mischief with aristocratic royalty, and selfelected legislators, emperors, and other upstarts. So long as he continues to ventilate the wickedness of his own country, we will say nothing to him about that Scriptural sarcasm, namely, "Physician, heal thyself." He is young, and, it is hoped, will improve. We give below a sketch, mainly founded on an article entitled "Der Lanternemann," in Der Gartenlaube, a Leipsic publication. M. Henri Rochefort, whose Lanterne has created the latest excitement in France, and attracted the attention of the intelligent in other European countries and in the United States, is the son of the Marquis de Rochefort Lucay, and has, as yet, only attained his thirtieth year. He is a tall, slender man, with a high forehead and well-defined features, though the mustache partly hides the expression of the mouth. Not being familiar with the history of his childhood, we are unable to say whether or not, at an early age, he exhibited any remarkable talent. As a boy, the accounts of him are meagre, and with the exception of one or two favorable mentions during his school-days, and one literary performance, in which a prominent Frenchman discovered the manifestation of an embryo genius, we have little satisfactory knowledge of him until he came upon the political field. He was at one time one of the officers of the Prefect of the Seine, Haussmann, and afterward Inspector of Fine Arts. He attained, also, some note as a critic, in which he displayed the same fearlessness which characterizes him as a politician. In the course of a criticism of one of Gérome's pictures, "The Execution of Marshal Ney," he happened to say that "no one ever merited death more than Ney, and that in going over to the standard of Napoleon, after the Emperor's return from Elba, he acted more from ambition than patriotism." The consequence of this plain speaking was a challenge from the Prince de la Moskowa, son of the Marshal. In his reply, Rochefort insists that a writer has a "perfect right to criticise the acts of eminent men," that he should be held personally responsible only for a misstatement of facts, and that if he can not be allowed to set forth his own opinion with regard to the public acts of the Generals of 1815 without fighting their descendants, then "we must lock up histories and put the keys in our pockets," and concludes the letter as follows: "There is a question of principle involved which I am unwilling to compromise. To comply with the request of the Prince de la Moskowa would be to accept the rôle of insulter, which I reject with all my force. I have fought, as perhaps you are aware, several duels, often for very trifling causes, but at least they did not affect the right of judgment. I consequently refuse to set a bad example to my colleagues-that is to say, I decline to give the Prince satisfaction by arms." Rochefort finally entered journalism, first on Charivari, then on Nain Jaune, and afterward on Figaro. On the latter he remained for several years, and ranked as one of the most brilliant and best paid of its contributors; but a warning voice from the Minister of the Interior whispered that unless the ceaseless barking around the heels of government be stopped, the days of the Figaro would be numbered. To this event we owe the establishment of the Lanterne. Rochefort made a pretense of not believing this, and in his finely sarcastic style proceeded to illustrate the idea, holding it beneath the dignity of a Minister to command an editor into his presence in order to say to him, "You have a contributor who is distasteful to me. Get rid of him, or don't be surprised to find your paper meet a sudden death." Besides, this would offend against the articles of the Code, and must therefore be impossible. So he wrote to the Minister, "taking care to sweeten every line with compliments and to adopt a servile tone," asking permission to establish a political paper. The new law on the press passed, and M. Rochefort was at liberty to publish his paper on payment of a sou stamp on each copy. "4 'He notes the alteration of the law, and says the Government have sold him the right to say all the disagreeable things he pleases about them at the rate of five centimes (about a cent) a paper." There is truth in this, for of course the more disagreeable things he says the more the paper will sell, and consequently the more will be the revenue returned to the Government. But the Lanterne is established, and henceforth the name of Rochefort is famous. It is a weekly pamphlet of fifty-six pages in a red cover, "with a picture of an open lantern suspended by a rope," and said, by one of our magazines, to be, in size and external appearance, very much like a "dime novel." Rochefort is the satirical representative of the émeute side of the liberal principle in the Second Empire. As a public man he holds nothing sacred. That he has done good service is, perhaps, unquestioned, but he might have done better service if his probing-knife had been of more finely tempered steel. He thoroughly enjoys his work, and enters into it with his whole heart. The Lanterne is entirely written by himself, and has obtained a popularity previously unheard of in France. The Emperor, the ministry, and all other government officials come in for a share of his wholesale contempt. But then he tells the truth about them, and that to their faces; a thing no man ever dared to do before-and the truth is what the people want to hear,—they have been famishing for it for years. A starving man does not stop to cavil at bread because it is made of wheat-meal instead of superfine flour. The French people were startled by his intrepidity and brilliancy; he had their sympathy from the beginning, and was raised to the rank of a hero by his own daring, and the unjust action of the Government toward him. The Lanterne was in everybody's hands; when with the second number the circulation had reached 30,000, the administration forbade its sale at the newspaper stalls, and the next week the circulation ran up to 80,000, and since, to a 150,000, and it is estimated to have at least a million readers in all parts of France. The very name, says a correspondent of a New York daily, has come to be so popular that it is "of commercial value, so that dealers in matches, sweet biscuit, and other small wares, find it to their account to offer them to the public in wrappers printed and colored in imitation of the cover of the Lanterne." In the mean time the forbearance of the Government ceased, and with No. 11 the police seized the greater part of the edition before it had left the hands of the printer, and "even snatched copies from the hands of persons reading it in the streets." The libelous Imperial organ, the Inflexible, had been unable to cope with the straightforward truth of Rochefort, and the police must be sent to its assist having attempted by remonstrance, challenge, and every other legal means, to secure the suppression of the libel, he struck the printer, who, in consequence, immediately instituted a suit against him. The suit was decided against Rochefort, who now finds himself for this, and for the publication of Nos. 11 and 12 of the Lanterne, sentenced to twenty-nine months' imprisonment and a fine of 20,200 francs,—say $4,040. The impossibility of a liberal editor obtaining justice in Paris has been abundantly illus trated of late, and M. Rochefort can not be blamed that he has taken it into his own hands and fled to Brussels, from which city he issued No. 13 of the Lanterne, the light of which he evidently intends to keep shining. In this number he announces that he shall stay outside of France, "and change his place of residence from time to time so as not to bring neighboring nations into diplomatic embarrassments with his native country." No. 14, therefore, though published at Brussels, is dated from Amsterdam. The Independence Belge, a week or two ago, publishes a characteristic letter from him, which admirably portrays the inconsistencies of royalty: "I had prepared for circulation in Paris, on Saturday, September 5, a number of the Lanterne, wholly and solely composed, from the first to the last line, of extracts from the political works of Prince Louis Napoleon, now Napoleon III. This number appeared so revolutionary to the many printers whom I asked to print it, that not one of them would dare to run the risk of doing so. The fifteenth number will, therefore, like the fourteenth, be published abroad." In private life M. Rochefort is cordial and unpretending. He is also reported charitable, and it is certain that he gave 500 francs to the family of a fireman who recently lost his life while arresting the progress of a fire. It is with regret that we must add that he is excess"ively prodigal, so that little remains from the enormous income which he received during the gala days of the Lanterne, which still remains the hope of a large class of French liberals in spite of the vigilance of the authorities. FRIENDSHIP REAL.-Some true heart has given expression to its generous nature in the following beautiful sentiment: "Never desert a friend when enemies gather around him. When sickness falls on the heart, when the world is dark and cheerless, is the time to try a true friend. They who turn from a scene of distress betray their hypocrisy and prove that interest moves them. If you have a friend who loves you and studies your interest and happiness, be sure and sustain him in adversity. Let him feel that his former kindness is appreciated, and that his love is not thrown away. Real fidelity may be rare, but it exists in the heart. Who has not seen and felt its power? They deny its worth who never loved a friend, or labored to make a friend happy." PHRENOLOGY IN THE SCHOOLROOM. [The following interesting address was delivered before the Wisconsin Teachers' Association, at Milwaukee, July 22d, by Mr. T. C. CHAMBERLIN, Principal of the Delevan High School. Aside from its intrinsic merit it is an encouraging exponent of the progress made by the only safe science of mental phenomena in that most important sphere of human endeavor-the instruction of youth.] THE work of a teacher is the development and equipment of the mind. Mind is the substance or essence wrought upon. Mind is that which must be molded, expanded, and-adorned. Mind is the subject-matter of the teacher's labors. A thorough knowledge of mind is, then, necessary to rational instruction. Can we rationally cultivate that of which we are ignorant? Can the engineer control and direct the mighty forces of steam without a knowledge of the parts and powers of his engine? Can the teacher control and direct the still more potent energies of the mind while ignorant of its faculties and their functions? Without a thorough knowledge of human nature, how are we better as teachers than the old alchemists as professors of chemistry? Without this knowledge, what are our methods but imitations of old-time customs; what are our innovations but hazardous ventures? Electricity was not, could not be controlled and utilized till its laws were known. So neither can mind be educated rationally without a knowledge of its laws. I have stated my subject-mental philosophy as an aid in teaching. I should have stated it, mental philosophy a necessity in teaching. For if there be successful teaching without a practical knowledge of human nature, it is the result of sheer good luck or scrvile imitation. And here I may state that by mental philosophy I mean simply a knowledge of human nature. What can be more absurd than the attempt to develop and furnish a mind of whose nature, composition, and mode of action we are ignorant. PRIMARY REQUISITES. We need, then, fundamentally, a clear apprchension of the faculties and functions of the human mind; not only of the human mind in general, in the mass of mankind, but in each individual pupil. It is not enough to know that the mind is composed of the intellect, the sensibilities, and the will, but we need to know to what extent, in what proportion, these severally exist in each pupil under our charge. We need to know what are the predominant and what the inferior faculties, in every casein short, the entire mental composition of the child. And not only should we thus know the mental constitution of man in general, and our pupils in particular, but we should clearly understand how that constitution acts, and here also not only universally, but individually. It is not sufficient that we know how nine persons out of ten will act under given circumstances, if the tenth, who is our pupil, will act differently; we should know how that tenth one will act. All mankind have the same faculties, and these have the same functions; but they are possessed by individuals in different degrees. To know this difference is all-important to the teacher. I repeat, we should clearly understand these four things: The constitution of the mind in general; the activity of mind in general; individual mental composition; individual mental bias. But is such knowledge within our reach? Does nature reveal such a treasurehouse of intellectual wealth? Has she furnished the data? This is the problem of the ages. NATURE THE TEACHER. On general principles, I answer yes. Great necessities in nature are always supplied from her own boundless resources. Far back in the dim ages of geological history, when the earth was a vast wilderness or an untraversed sea, when no man existed, when not even a living animal walked the face of the earth to foreshadow his coming, nature foresaw his great necessities and garnered up her exhaustless stores. Side by side, layer upon layer, lie the iron and the coal, and deep beneath the springs of oil. And shall nature thus lavish her material supplies and neglect the infinitely weightier interests of the mental world? Has she thus favored the manufacturer and forgotten the educator? Nay, verily, the requisite materials, the needed data are given. Every one has some way of judging human nature, and prides himself in being particularly expert in so doing. It is universally conceded that character is indicated somehow, aside from action, and that naturally. But if so, then it must be on the basis of natural law, for nature never acts otherwise. There should then be a system (discovered or undiscovered), based upon scientific principles, by which character may be known, through which the great educational necessity may be supplied. THE TWO SYSTEMS COMPARED. Let us examine the systems of mental philosophy that are now advanced. But two deserve our attention, and they differ widely in their mode of investigation and the results obtained, but are by no means contradictory. The first attempts by an investigation of the ordinary activities and special phenomena of mind to discover its faculties and their functions, and to present an analysis of the mind and its activities. It studies mind directly, without regard to its connection with matter, at least without making matter a medium of investigation. This system has appropriated the name mental philosophy, or "metaphysics." I shall use the latter term as being most distinctive. What are the contributions of this system to our necessities? An analysis of the mind and a sketch of its activities. It, however, proposes no means of determining the psychical endowments or activities of the individual. The deductions of metaphysics are comprehensive rather than specific, as regards their application to man. Its value as an educational auxiliary must then be confined to generalities. This system presents a noble study, the product of deep thought and severe intellectual application. Its consideration elevates, intensifies, and ennobles the mind. But while we thus admire, we must search elsewhere for that practical, specific knowledge of human nature that our necessities demand. The second system to which our attention is directed differs from the preceding, fundamentally, in considering mind not separately, but in its connection with and manifestation through matter. We know nothing of mind except in its relation to matter. Mind affects matter; matter affects mind. Nay, mind is the union of spirit with matter; ar, rather, mind is spirit manifested through matter. Beyond the bonds of this matrimony we can not go. Divorce is death. Upon the condition of this relationship, this system, together with its investigations, is based. So far as our observation goes, nature provides a specific organ for every separate function. The mind must, then, possess its organ, and if composed of distinct faculties having separate functions, these must each possess its organ. Pre-eminently is this true, since mind is spirit manifested through matter. This matter, then, is its organ. This system claims that the brain is the peculiar organ of mental manifestation, and that specific parts of it are appropriated for specific manifestations; that is, each faculty of the mind has its cerebral organ. It likewise claims that whatever may be true of spirit, the essence of mind, mental manifestation depends solely upon the size, quality, activity, and other conditions of the brain or its organs. And further, that the location of these cerebral organs has, for the most part, been discovered; and that their size, quality, activity, etc., can be estimated approximately. It is unnecessary to state that this system, so richly laden with momentous truth, is known as Phrenology. And as I indicate a belief in its beautiful truths and their unsurpassed utility, it may perhaps be expected that I shall attempt to prove its principles, defend its theory, and refute its opponents; that I shall enter upon a train of metaphysical and physiological theorizing to establish its truth. I shall not do so. PHRENOLOGY PROVED. HOW? Phrenology was not born of theory, has not lived by theory, will not die by theory. Phrenology is the offspring of observation. It is based upon ascertained facts. To that test it appeals. By the decision of that test it has and will triumph. If teachers desire proofs, no better field of investigation can be found than their own schoolroom. There, carefully, cautiously, and faithfully, compare the known characters of your pupils with their cerebral developments, and upon the result base your opinion. As educators, it befits us to investigate rather than assume to ascertain facts; to search out truth rather than bow to dogmas. Thus you should do with the claims of this science. And yet a word of caution. Beware of the false prophet! Phrenology has been more maligned and vilified, and its progress and influence more retarded by pretended professors, either grossly ignorant or knavish, than by all other causes combined. There are scarcely twenty phrenologists in America capable of delineating character with reliable accuracy. Yet there are hundreds of pretenders, devoid of ability and honesty, who impose themselves upon the ignorance of the public, filling their pockets by cheating the community and libeling the science they profess. Of such Phrenology is as guiltless as patriotism is of bountyjumpers, upon whom, as upon those vile hypocrites, let the anathema of anathemas rest. WHAT IT HAS DONE. But what are the contributions of this system of mental science? An analysis of the mind and its activities both universally and individually. Like metaphysics, it presents a statement of the mental faculties and their functions as they exist in all minds without regard to individual differences; in other words, the universal composition of mind. Unlike, and in advance of, metaphysics, it proposes by means of the conformation of matter which mind has molded in harmony with its own peculiarities, to present an analysis of any individual mind brought under examination. To illustrate: Both systems alike give that which is analogous to the universal anatomy of plant, root, stem, foliage, flower, and fruit. Metaphysics stops here. Phrenology proceeds to classify and describe its natural orders, genera, and species. To avoid mistake just here, however, it should be borne in mind that the classification of faculties in these systems differs somewhat, owing to a different basis of classification and mode of investigation. Metaphysics divides the mind primarily into the intellect, the sensibilities, and the will; Phrenology, into the intellectual, semiintellectual, moral, selfish, social, and animal faculties, the nomenclature indicating, in a measure, the difference. The former may be compared to chemistry, the latter to anatomy. Each phrenological faculty is capable of metaphysical analysis, just as each anatomical section is capable of chemical analysis. Thus, though the symptoms differ, they are no more contradictory than the sciences with which they are compared. They are in perfect harmony, and both necessary to a thorough knowledge of the mind; but for the practical purposes of the educator, the vast superiority and peculiar adaptability of the latter can not have escaped notice. Its peculiar fitness to aid in the selection of a course of study, the methods and manner of instruction, and especially in discipline and the exercise of personal influence, would seem almost to indicate that the design of nature was to aid us in our character-forming labors. ON THE STUDY OF PHRENOLOGY. "But can the ordinary teacher master and apply the principles of Phrenology so as to form reliable judgments of character?" This question I would answer cautiously. Even if impossible, the science is still of inestimable value in enabling its teachers to understand and appreciate character, when and after it is manifested. It is a very difficult matter to fully comprehend the mental nature of a child, though that nature is exhibited in our presence day after day. Let our errors of judgment bear witness on this point. While a high degree of natural ability, thorough study, and extensive experience are necessary to, the accurate delineation of the details of character, yet its outlines can be drawn with tolerable accuracy by the mere tyro. The industrious teacher, possessed of good perceptives, by careful study and observation in that place so favorable to such investigations—the school-room · may ascertain, with all necessary precision, the rational nature of his pupils. There are those, indeed, whose perceptive judgment is so unreliable as to render this untrue, but such are equally unfit to be teachers. USE OF PHYSIOGNOMY. But many and valuable as are the contributions of Phrenology te didactics, it is yet wanting in one important respect. For while it presents a clear delineation of natural character, it fails to point out, except in a limited degree, the voluntary character, the mental habits, influence of past circumstances, or, in common parlance," the bringing up." To ascertain these facts, recourse must be had to a prospective science which, though not a system of mental philosophy, is yet allied to, in fact, is a department of it. I refer to Physiognomy. I say prospective science, because its principles, if indeed they are discovered, are not yet altogether satisfactorily demonstrated. That character is indicated by the features is generally admitted, and the fact universally utilized. When the fierce tornado bursts forth from the recesses of the mountains and sweeps across the beautiful face of nature, destruction marks its path, and ruinous traces reveal nature's passion. So when the fiercer furors of the mind break forth and cast their fiery mantle o'er the dial of the soul, the vestiges remain the tokens of their rage. Thus nature keeps her records. But if character is thus indicated in the features, it must be in accordance with fixed rules, for this alone is nature's method. And when these rules have been discovered and demonstrated, then will physiognomy take its place as a department of mental science. And while we wait in hope this important attainment, let us honor those zealous benefactors of their race who, without the praise of men, yes, even mid their jeers, are devotedly searching the unfathomed intricacies that involve the subject, and who are slowly lifting the vail that hangs over its dark mysteries. But though not a science, physiognomy can still be utilized. Though "the how and the why" may not be evident, we can still judge man" by the looks of him." Thus are the demands of our necessities met. Thus from these three sources may we derive the basis of a thorough knowledge of human To this work, fellow-teachers, we are called For the achievement of these grand results we are responsible. To this work, then, let us come, armed with all the auxiliaries the broad field of science affords. Let us come knowing ourselves, and prepared to know our pupils. And when this shall be-when the educators of our land shall come thus equipped for the Herculean task, encouraged by good hearts and directed by clear heads, then will spring forth results far mightier than ever issued from the founding of empires, the crash of armies, or the subtile chicanery of diplomacy. Then shall be asked, "Who are the mighty?" And the glad tones of a grateful nation shall respond, The Educators." MANHOOD AND ITS DEVELOPMENT. It is said that Diogenes, the Greek philoso pher, was once seen carrying a lighted candle through the streets of Athens; and being asked what he was doing, replied that he was "looking for a man." Tradition does not inform us whether or not he succeeded in the object of his search; and therefore we do not know what was his ideal of a true man, or what, in his estimation, was necessary to form such a character. But doubtless in some modern Athens many who would pass before his scrutinizing gaze would be dismissed with a smile of scorn or a contemptuous glance, as entirely unworthy of the name we give them. Judging by the Christian standard, we think that where true manhood exists, but little note is taken of it, and where most of its higher elements are wanting, it is sometimes supposed to exist. These things ought not thus to be; a person may be learned, or wealthy, or what people call religious, and yet lack much of being a genuine man. We are three-fold beingsphysical, intellectual, and spiritual—and no one of these elements should be educated at the expense of the others, for the full development of all these is essential to the completion of the highest type of manhood. As you gaze at the Capitol at Washington, you feel that it is a grand and magnificent structure, worthy of the great people by whom it was erected; but strike from it the lofty dome, and it becomes only a vast pile of stone. It may indeed still serve as a building in which the Congress of the nation can convene,—but its distinguishing feature is gone, its glory is departed. Remove the main body of the building, and the dome has no support-the lower foundation alone remains to tell the folly of the builder. Take from beneath the structure the foundation, and the whole mighty fabric tumbles into ruins. So is it with man. If he do not cultivate the spiritual element, his mind remains dark, his life an enigma-no ray of light reaches him from beyond his earthly existence. He may be learned, may possess great genius, but the noblest element of manhood is wanting. If the intellect be undeveloped, the man is but an animal, with the physical nature neglected; he lives a whining, sickly creature, or dies before his time, his work but half accomplished. All that is needful for our development we have. All that the body needs-light for the eyes, air for the lungs, harmonious sounds for the ear, and all the exercise necessary to develop the body to its greatest degree of symmetry and power. For the social sentiments, there are friends to love and cherish. For the intellect, there are the principles of science-the facts of history-the sublime inspirations of poesy-and the profoundest thoughts of philosophy. The spiritual sentiments can soar beyond nature into the realms of the infinitedrink from the fountains of Divine truth-and by the guidance of Divine love and wisdom exalt and glorify our social and intellectual life. We need this culture-this education; for without it we are slaves, like the caged eagle, with little life or vigor; every acquisition of knowledge we make gives us greater freedom. So it should be the great object of our lives to obtain this development. But says one, Should it not be the great aim of life to labor for the advancement of the glory of the Creator, and the elevation of our fellow-creatures? True-but these are involved in the other. He who is most truly laboring for his Maker, does that which will give the highest development to his own faculties. For if we labor rightly, every stroke of work we do, every fact of science and history we gather, every noble aspiration or desire we have, every feeling of joy or delight that thrills us, every act of charity and kindness we perform, gives fresh power to our intellectual and spiritual nature. Our work is like that of Tennyson's "Lady of Shalott," "Who weaves, by night and day, A magic web with colors gay, And moving through a mirror clear, That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. And in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights." So with us, images of all the varied scenes through which we pass are woven into the texture of our characters. To me, this is a work of delight that will cease not with time, but continue through the endless ages of the "Great Hereafter;" and if we perform our part rightly, with genuine faith and hope, the ideal will become the real, this realization surpass in brightness the most fondly cherished dreams of youth, and our lives be made radiant with a beauty that shall fade not, but prove indeed a joy forever. ALFRED WHITE. SATIRE is a glass in which the beholder sees the faces of others, but not his own. CONCENTRATED PROGRESS OF THE WORLD. FEW phenomena are more remarkable, yet few have been less remarked, than the degree in which material civilization-the progress of mankind in all those contrivances which oil the wheels and promote the comfort of daily life-has been concentrated into the last half-century. It is not much to say that in these respects more has been done, richer and more prolific discoveries, have been made, grander achievements have been realized, in the course of the fifty years of our own lifetime than in all the previous lifetime of the race, since states, nations, and politics, such as history makes us acquainted with, have had their being. In some points, no doubt, the opposite of this is true. In speculative philosophy, in poetry, in the arts of sculpture and painting, in the perfection and niceties of language, we can scarcely be said to have made any advance for upward of two thousand years. Probably no instrument of thought and expression has been or ever will be more nearly perfect than Greek or Sanscrit; no poet will surpass Homer or Sophocles; no thinker dive deeper than Plato or Pythagoras; no sculptor produce more glorious marble conceptions than Phidias or Praxiteles. It may well be that David, and Confucius, and Pericles were clothed as richly and comfortably as George III. or Louis XVIII., and far more becomingly. There is every reason to believe that the dwellings of the rich and great among the Romans, Greeks, and Babylonians were as luxurious and well appointed as our own, as well as incomparably more gorgeous and enduring. It is certain that the palaces belonging to the nobles and monarchs of the Middle Ages-to say nothing of abbeys, minsters, and temples-were in nearly all respects equal to those erected in the present day, and in some important points far superior. But in how many other equally significant and valuable particulars has the progress of the world been not only concentrated into these latter days, but singularly spasmodic in its previous march! Take two of the most remarkable inventions of all time, both of comparatively modern date-gunpowder and printing. One is four, the other five, centuries old. How infinitesimal the difference between the fire-arms of the year 1400 and the year 1800! The "Brown Bess," the field guns, and the carronades with which Nelson and Wellington and Napoleon won their victories when we were young, were superior in little except readiness to the matchlocks and the cannon with which the barons of the Middle Ages fought out their contests, as soon as they had discarded the bows and arrows which had sufficed for mankind from the days of Thermopyle, and earlier, to the days of Agincourt, and later. But now contrast the progress since 1840 with the progress of the previous five hundred years. Compare the needle gun of Sadowa, or the Chassepot rifle of Mentana, or the Enfield of our own troops, or even the Minié of Inkerman, with the common musket which the veteran pedants of the Duke of Wellington's army could scarcely be persuaded to discard. Compare the Armstrong, the Blakesley, or the Whitworth ordnance of to-day-with their almost boundless caliber, their terrible projectiles, their marvelous precision, and their three-mile range-with the round shot or shell fired from the field pieces which battered Badajoz and St. Sebastian. It is probable that within fifty years from the first application of gunpowder to war, the destructive power of the fire-arms then invented was nearly as great as that of those used in the reign of Napoleon. It is probable that we are now within far less than fifty years of the furthest point to which the conditions of matter will permit that destructive power to be carried. Then as to printing. The books printed within five-and-twenty years after the first use of movable types were as clear, as perfect, as beautiful specimens of typography as any that were produced five-and-twenty years ago. A little more rapidity and a great deal more cheapness make up, perhaps, the sum-total of the improvements in the typographic art between the time of Caxton and the time of Spottiswoode. But within the memory of those still young the wonderful art of rapid stereotyping has been introduced; and to this alone it is owing that newspapers are able to supply the demands of their hundred thousand readers. It would be of course impossible to compose more than one set of types within the very few hours allowed for the supply of each day's demand. It would be equally impossible to print off from that one set more than an eighth or a tenth part of the number of copies which the leading papers are required to furnish within three or four hours. But by casting from the first composed types as soon as completed, any number of fac-simile blocks can be produced, and from these, by the help of circular machines, an indefinite number of impressions can be struck off in an almost incredTwelve thousand ibly short space of time. copies an hour, and even more, can, we believe, be easily produced by each machine. The multiplication thus rendered feasible is practically almost unlimited. But it is in the three momentous matters of light, locomotion, and communication that the progress effected in this generation contrasts most surprisingly with the aggregate of the progress effected in all previous generations put together since the earliest dawn of authentic history. The lamps and torches which illuminated Belshazzar's feast were probably just as brilliant, and framed out of nearly the same materials, as those which shone upon the splendid fêtes of Versailles when Marie Antoinette presided over them, or those of the Tuileries during the imperial magnificence of the first Napoleon. Pine wood, oil, and perhaps wax, lighted the banquet halls of the wealthiest nobles alike in the eighteenth century before Christ and in the eighteenth century after |