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vençal society, is so plainly ironical, that we rather suspect that it must have given offence to all the genuine Christians, if there were any, among "the Félibres of Paris." It was like suggesting that the soul should live forever in the perception of a sweet scent, or a rich tone, or a graceful group, or a fair flower. That is a great descent even from the conception of worth by which M. Renan measures the present life of man. "Every one," he says, " is worth more or less in proportion to the joys which he has tasted in the beginning of life, to the share of goodness which he has experienced from those round him." But the share of goodness which men have experienced in the early part of their life from those round them, involves elements a vast deal richer and deeper than the contemplation of the gayeties of a Provençal celebration; and one perceives, therefore, that M. Renan thinks the sweet thoughts of the eternal life are likely to be made up of material much more trivial and evanescent than the experiences upon which the worth of human character depends. That is one way in which he trains his hearers to depreciate the prospect of immortality. The worth of human life, he says, is to be measured by the share it has had in the goodness of those by whom the period of childhood has been surrounded; but the worth of immortality is to be measured by the worth of the pleasurable images which happen to be uppermost in the mind at the close of the human career. Tenderness, goodness, human affections of the highest order, enter into the substance of the one; the capricious amusements which most impress themselves on old men's memory will determine the value of the other. In both cases alike it is the amount of joyous experience which measures the worth of the

result; but the joyous experiences of age being to the joyous experiences of youth as moonlight is to sunlight, or as water is to wine, the long immortality of those at least who die in old age, will necessarily be somewhat fâde and tedious, if there is an immortality at all. That is what M. Renan's language suggests, though he does not say it plainly out.

What M. Renan ignores is, that all serious belief in immortality is founded on the conviction that the human heart craves rest on an eternal righteousness and blessedness the communion with which is by no manner of means a light pleasure of that butterfly order to which he chooses to attribute all the significance of finite immortality. The "beatific vision" is a vision for which finite minds can only be prepared by suffering or willingness to suffer,-indeed, by the kind of suffering or willingness to suffer of which we have had a divine example. The only preparation for immortality is experience of a diametrically opposite kind from that on which M. Renan dilates with a sort of epicurish cynicism as the possible amusement of a wearisome eternity. To learn to fathom the depth of even the deeper human characters is a process which involves a great capacity for voluntary suffering. But to learn to grow up from the human standard of righteousness to the divine, is a process which involves the willing carrying of a cross in the infinite agony and blessedness of which M. Kenan has long ago ceased to believe. Of course, having once reduced our nature to the level in' which the capacity for ephemeral gayety is all in all, he finds no difficulty in making the prospect of immortality look as absurd for man as it would be for the butterfly itself. - Spectator.

THE BALLAD OF MELICERTES.

BY ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

IN MEMORY OF THEODORE DE BANVILLE.

DEATH, a light outshining life, bids heaven resume.
Star by star the souls whose light made earth divine.
Death, a night outshining day, sees burn and bloom
Flower by flower, and sun by sun, the fames that shine
Deathless, higher than life beheld their sovereign sign.

Dead Simonides of Ceos, late restored,
Given again of God, again by man deplored
Shone but yestereve, a glory frail as breath.

Frail? But fame's breath quickens, kindles, keeps in ward,
Life so sweet as this that dies and casts off death.

Mother's love, and rapture of the sea, whose womb
Breeds eternal life of joy that stings like brine,
Pride of song, and joy to dare the singer's doom,
Sorrow soft as sleep and laughter bright as wine,
Flushed and filled with fragrant fire his lyric line.
As the sea-shell utters, like a stricken chord,
Music uttering all the sea's within it stored,

Poet well-beloved, whose praise our sorrow saith,
So thy songs retain thy soul, and so record

Life so sweet as this that dies and casts off death.

Side by side we mourned at Gautier's golden tomb:
Here in spirit now I stand and mourn at thine.
Yet no breath of death strikes thence, no shadow of gloom,
Only light more bright than gold of the inmost mine,
Only stream of incense warm from love's own shrine.
Not the darkling stream, the sundering Stygian ford,
Not the harm that smiles and severs as a sword,

Not the night subduing light that perisheth,
Smite, subdue, divide from us by doom abhorred,
Life so sweet as this that dies and casts off death.

Prince of song more sweet than honey, lyric lord,
Not thy France here only mourns a light adored,
One whose love-lit fame the world inheriteth.
Strangers too, now brethren, hail with heart's accord
Life so sweet as this that dies and casts off death.

-Athenæum.

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF FOUR RUSSIANS.

BY HON. CHARLES K. TUCKERMAN.

THE death of the Grand Duke Nicolas, brother of the late and uncle of the present Emperor of Russia, together with the fact that his brother, the Grand Duke Constantine, is stricken down with a malady which affords no hope of his recovery, recalls to the public mind two distinguished men whose names are associated with the most prominent political and military events in Russia of recent years. This paper will be confined simply to a few personal reminiscences of these two men, and of two other eminent Russians, the one distinguished by his valor in the field, the other by his diplomatic notoriety.

The elder of the two Grand Dukes, Constantin - Nicolaïévitch, was born in

1827, and is consequently, at the present writing, sixty-four years of age. Chief among his various titles are those of Grand Admiral, Aide - de - Camp General and President of the Imperial Council. In these capacities he has rendered distinguished services to his Government; but his unconcealed sympathies with the Liberal party, and especially with the people of Poland, created, on more than one occasion, a friction between the Grand Duke and his illustrious father. These, and other circumstances more or less known to the public, have rendered his political and private life not altogether a bed of roses.

When I first knew him he was on a visit to his daughter at Athens, Queen

Olga, and the impressions, then and subsequently, which he made upon me were those of a singularly well informed mind, widely awake to the political and social movements of the world at large, and eagerly active in the pursuit of information from all with whom he came in contact. Free from the slightest shadow of hauteur; dignified, yet familiar, with all whom he cared to converse with; inquisitive, at times jocose; full of information, and ready to impart it beyond the verge of strict diplomatic reticence, I always looked forward to a meeting with His Highness, well assured that I should gain something from the interview beyond the empty banalities which generally form the subject of conversation between high personages and their inferiors in position. I also felt, that whether the interview was to be a mere exchange of daily compliments or the expression of views upon current topics, I must keep my wits about me, so sudden and unexpectedly might be the question or the remark to which I was called upon to respond.

As an example of this, His Highness on one occasion abruptly turned from the subject under discussion and asked where a certain vessel of the United States navy was then stationed. I could not at the moment answer the question, but promised to consult the last naval report and let him know. The vessel in question was not in the European squadron, and I had not heard of her movements for a long time. He was greatly surprised at my want of information on the subject, and declared that, with that one exception, he could name the whereabouts of every vessel in the American and European service. I ventured to put his statement to the test; whereupon His Highness called off on his fingers vessel after vessel, their respective sizes, armaments and present stations, until, no longer incredulous, I cried, enough." He seemed equally conversant with matters totally disconnected with those under his especial charge, and at the mention of a name prominent in diplomacy or in letters would pronounce an acute criticism upon, or give an apt illustration of the individual named, as if he had made his characteristics a profound study.

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That a man of such diversified resources could turn with facility from the grave occupations of his official position to the

childish amusements of life, when such diversions were appropriate to the occasion, is not astonishing. I remember at a country picnic given by their Majesties to the members of the Court and diplomatic circle who were passing the summer at the Island of Corfu, the Grand Duke Constantin, leaving his official dignity to take care of itself at St. Petersburg, was the leading spirit in the romping games on that summer afternoon in a lovely and secluded spot a few miles from the town. He had a pleasant word and a quiet little joke for everybody, and when he engaged in a race or paid his penalty in a game of forfeits, one might have supposed him, from his dexterity and agility, to be one of the youngest, instead of one of the oldest of the party. During a pause in the amusements, His Highness proposed to run up to the top of a steep little peak of rock in the vicinity to see the view, and called to the King, and myself who chanced to be near him, to follow. This we did, and in a few minutes we were upon the summit; but, the space being too limited for three to stand at a time, we were obliged to cling to each other to maintain our equilibrium. "Never mind," said the Grand Duke, "here we stand, the representatives of three nations, and from this eminence we can defy the world!" Scarcely were the words uttered than we illustrated the fallacy of "ambition's boast," for the foot of one of the party slipped, and the triple alliance came to an abrupt dissolution, the sauve qui peut movement backward down the declivity being accentuated by the ludicrous attempts of each to save his dignity and his nose from falling on the slippery rock.

His brother, the Grand Duke Nicolas Nicolaïévitch, presented a somewhat different type of character. Without the excitable and nervous temperament of Constantin, genial but grave in his deportment, soldierly in bearing, as befits the position he held, he inspired in his intercourse with others a feeling of deference and dignified regard. Born in 1831, he was four years the junior of his brother. His principal titles were General of Engineers, Aide-de-Camp, Inspector-General of the Army, and President of the Comité Suprême d' Organisation. Of late years his name has come prominently forward as Commander-in-Chief during the RussoTurkish war.

It was at Constantinople in 1878 that, being engaged in the prosecution of an important matter of business with the Ottoman Government, it became necessary for me to have an interview with the Grand Duke. The Russo-Turkish war was over; the city of the Sultan lay weakened and humiliated at the feet of her great Northern conqueror, and the streets of Pera, the Christian quarter of the city, were gay with the uniforms of Russian officers, who enlivened the Grand Rue with their presence and enriched the shopheepers at the bazaar in Stamboul with Russian roubles in exchange for bric-àbrac, Turkish carpets, and Oriental embroideries. One hundred and twenty thousand Russian troops were encamped at San Stefano, a Turkish village an hour's distance by rail from Stamboul, and the English fleet of observation," despatched thither to prevent, if need be, the occupation of the capital by the Russian army, lay at anchor in Bessika Bay, at, relatively, the same distance from Stamboul as were the Russian troops. In the Bosphorus, midway between the European and Asiatic shores, the Lavadia, a magnificent yacht floating the imperial flag of Russia, lay peacefully at her anchorage. On board of her was the Grand Duke Nicolas, then in command of the Russian army in Turkey.

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Ascertaining that H. I. H. generally lunched on board his yacht at noon, I proceeded thither in a caïque, an hour later, bearing a letter of introduction to him from Prince Labanoff, the Russian Ambassador. As I stepped on deck I thought I had never seen a more elegant specimen of the yacht class of naval architecture and appointments than the Lavadia presented. Everything, of course, was spick and span, from topmast to water's edge, but the broad sweep of the main deck, the oiled and shining spars, the ivory-white panelling and the burnished brass mountings on cannon, capstan and railing, presented an ensemble which could not be well surpassed. The officer at the gangway stated that the lunch party were still at table, but that, the repast being over, he thought the Grand Duke would see me, and he took my let ter and card to the cabin. Almost immediately he returned with a message from His Highness inviting me to join him at table. This I declined, with thanks, send

ing him word that, as my business was of a private character, I would be pleased to know when it would perfectly suit his convenience for me to call again. This was answered by the Grand Duke in person who, greeting me with extreme cordiality, renewed his invitation to go down with him below, saying that no one but his staff officers were present and that we could converse at our ease. As I was disinclined to do so, he said :—“ All right; let us sit down here, then," namely on the raised edge of the poop deck, our feet resting on the deck below. "Here we shall be entirely uninterrupted," he continued, "and I've nothing to do for an hour to come. I am always glad to see one of your countrymen. Now, what can I do for you?" Then he ordered coffee and cigars and awaited my communication.

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This all looked very encouraging, but I was by no means sure that he would be inclined to afford me the information 1 desired; first, because it related to the disposition of certain Turkish territory acquired by the Russians among the spoils of war, and which, not being fully determined upon, it might not be prudent to divulge; and, secondly, because the business I had in hand concerned English interests, and it was hardly presumable that, under the then strained relations between the two countries, Russia would care to show her hand until the political arrangements in view were fully matured. In this opinion, so far as the Grand Duke's revelations to myself were concerned, I was altogether mistaken. With perfect frankness he answered my questions, fully and without reserve, simply making it a condition that until the arrangements were made public I would consider his communication as strictly confidential. When this matter was disposed of, I rose to leave, but at H. H.'s request, I remained for another half hour, the conversation drifting into matters concerning the late war and the present condition of political affairs. It would appear as if,-glad to be free for a few moments from the restraint of official routine, and the conventional intercourse imposed upon him by the foreign and uncongenial elements by which he was surrounded, he welcomed the opportunity of a free and unrestrained conversation with one who was entirely independent of political prejudices and inter

national questions such as then formed the chief topic of interest, in Constantinople, from the Sultan's palace to the booth of the humblest shopkeeper. He seemed annoyed that he was not receiving from the English colony at Pera that official attention which his position deserved, and especially at the cold shoulder turned to him by the British Ambassador.

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Why does he not call upon me?" he asked, in an irritable tone. "Is Russia at war with England? Did we not enter upon this campaign only after every effort on the part of the Conference of the Powers failed to bring Turkey to accept a single proposition which would have averted it? It was perfectly well known that the folly and obstinacy of the Turks would result in war, and that not a single Power would come to her aid. We have conducted the war with the greatest moderation and prudence, being careful not to wound the susceptibilities of England. Are we here with sinister intentions, or as a victorious army making peace on honorable terms?"

I asked him why he did not enter Stamboul and make his terms there; he had the precedent of the Prussian occupation of Paris.

"Oh, we had precedent enough," he replied, "but it would have set all Europe in a blaze."

I asked the Grand Duke if it were true that but for the approach of the English fleet to Constantinople, the treaty of peace would have been made at Adrianople.

"Not at Adrianople, but near there, where the army halted. When the news reached us of the approach of the fleet, we met this menace on the part of a friendly Power by advancing the troops; and should have entered Stamboul, had not the fleet withdrawn, by arrangement, to its present position at Bessika Bay."* I referred to the prevalent notion that Russia is aiming at the possession of Constantinople. His Highness smiled, and asked:

"Are the United States aiming at the

possession of Cuba ?"

"No."

"Would they willingly allow any other Power to hold it?"

* This statement was confirmed by two Russian Ambassadors - Ignatieff and Labanoffand by General Skobeleff, whom I separately questioned on the subject.

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Certainly not."

Very well; that is precisely our position with respect to Constantinople. While things remain as they are-save and excepting the closure of the Dardanelles to the passage of our naval vessels -a condition which no other nation similarly situated would endure, Russia is satisfied. If Constantinople is destined, like an over-ripe pear, to fall into somebody's lap, both the geographical and physical conditions of Russia forbid that, in such an event, it should belong to any other Power. There is of course a party in Russia favorable to the acquisition of Constantinople, as in your slavery days there was a party anxious for the possession of Cuba, but it is not an influential party. Constantinople could not become the southern capital of Russia without causing an immense depreciation of values in the north; a fact which the land and property owners there would view with the greatest alarm."

How about the claims of Greece to her ancient domain?" I ventured to ask.

"They are more sentimental than practical. Greece deserves, and will doubtless obtain in time, an extension of territory. We feel a good deal of sympathy with Greece, apart from the fact of the Greeks being our co-religionists."

I turned the conversation to India.

"India? There is another popular fallacy, giving rise to the most absurd espionage on the part of England, and affording the opportunity froin Members of Parliament down to newspaper scribblers, to indulge in speculations and in warnings as to the supposed aggressive movements of Russia in that direction. This causes a good deal of amusement to our people; but unfortunately it goes beyond this and excites retaliation-and so the breach widens. India! What do we want of that enormous empire of Hindoos and Mussulmans, and which would require a standing army of Kussians to keep them from revolt? No; our line of advance is in a different direction, and then only so far as our political interests demand it. The Russian Empire is large enough, and no English statesman, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, sincerely believes that Russian ambition seeks the acquisition of India."

When I took my leave of the Grand Duke it was with the conviction that his

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