Page images
PDF
EPUB

agency of the State, and many of his most iconoclastic spirit which made even men

who were not Conservatives fear that he might yet turn his professorship into a propaganda of Radicalism. And assuredly the subject matter of the professorship was not sufficiently removed from the sphere of political bias, to render that fear irrational or bigoted. Bonamy Price was elected probably because he did not share this bias. But he showed po more disposition to treat his class-room as the place for propagating Whig opinions, than his predecessor had done to treat it as the place for propagating Radical opinions. And it became in his hands a very effective sieve for sifting out the fundamental differences between different schools of economical thought, for he greatly excelled in that lively interrogation of the young of which he so often extolled the value, and which undoubtedly became in his hands a very powerful and thoroughly Socratic instrument of education.

eager arguments were conducted with High Churchmen for whom he felt the deepest reverence and love, on the question whether or not the Anglican Church, once separated from the State, would retain any proper ecclesiastical unity of its own. We mention this not, of course, with any view of analyzing his attitude of mind on this question, but simply to show that there was nothing in him of the mere eclectic, nothing of that tendency to find something that he could approve in everybody's views, which so often makes men's sympathies seem much more valuable than they are. His views were always apt to be more definite, not more indefinite, than the facts would justify; and hence it was not from this point of view certainly that one could account for the generous sympathy which he gave to younger men and the stimulus which they found in his society. The power which he most appreciated was power specifically directed At Oxford, Bonamy Price's loss will be, to well-defined ends; but he could appre- and, indeed, has already been, severely ciate such power cordially even when felt. Latterly his academic influence was

those ends were not altogether his own, and when he could discriminate them very clearly from his own. Frank and clearly defined differences in no way alienated his hearty and discriminating appreciation.

Like all Dr. Arnold's friends and followers, Bonamy Price had the deepest possible interest in politics, and was, indeed, quite as much of a political as of a moral teacher. Like Socrates, he read in the State the virtues of the individual character writ large, and taught his pupils to see them as he did, As a classical master, he was never weary of impressing on his scholars the political drift of the lessons to be derived from the Greek and Roman historians, and, like all those who read these lessons in a religious spirit, he was as much afraid of revolutionary ideas and new departures taken abruptly in an unhistorical spirit, as he was of reactionary or despotic ideas, that is, of the disposition to treat the people as foes, instead of regarding their welfare as the end of all wise government. Thus, from being an ardent reformer when reform was urgently needed, he became towards the end of his life not a little alarmed at the facility with which the educated classes gave way to abstract principles of the vaguest kind, and it was no doubt to this dread of a somewhat raw Radicalism that he owed his election to the professorship of political economy at Oxford in 1868. Mr. Thorold Rogers had already developed, though not, we believe, in his class-room, some of that

thrown on to what may be properly called, for want of a less political phrase, the conservative side. He did not wish to see the extinction of definitely religious influences in the university. He did not wish to see the new physiological methods of teaching, - which he thought far more dangerous to the ethics, than they could ever be stimulating to the understandings, of medical students, - adopted there. Most of all, perhaps, he did not wish to see the influence of the younger men in the shaping of the curriculum, superseding the influence of men of large experience and mature wisdom. On all these questions he threw his vote against the prevailing tendency of the time, though he always did full justice to his opponents, and was as temperate as he was steady in his own line of action. And since he never lost his hold over the statesmen of the day, -even Mr. Gladstone, in his bantering ing criticism on Professor Bonamy Price's view of the Irish land question in 1881, indicated the hearty respect he felt for the economist whose judgment he rejected, - his influence at Oxford always counted for a good deal even with his opponents, all the more because, as a layman and a Broad Churchman, that influence was never ascribed to sacerdotal prepossessions. Hence, even in academical politics he will be sorely missed, - by his allies because he was cautious without being narrow, by his antagonists because he was fair and courteous without being weak. But in a larger world he will be military men greatly admired his vigorous

still more missed. He had been the confidential friend of statesmen who had sometimes derived no little help from his criticism, even in preparing their most brilliant speeches; and he understood the word "education" in a much larger sense than that in which ordinary tutors and professors understand it. He had exercised an influence which was always pure and noble, both in academical and in national politics. He had been a great reader and an active traveller, and wielded no little influence in the New World, as well as in the Old. And though I though he may have made at times political mistakes, as, for example, in leaning too much to the side of Austria at the time when Austria was the great bar to Italian liberty (yet

pamphlet on the value of the Quadrilateral to Austria), he made these mistakes under an exaggerated estimate of the danger that would arise to the European equilibrium from any too sudden upheaval of new national forces. At heart he was a true Liberal, though latterly a very cautious one, - for he saw how formidable in their reach were the new revolutionary tendencies. Indeed, few of our great teachers have exerted a greater influence than he in both widening and purifying the sphere of English liberty, and in deepening the sense of that moral responsibility whereby liberty gains in dignity and influence, much more than it loses by the restraints to which it voluntarily submits.

TO FIND THE DAY OF THE WEEK FOR ANY GIVEN DATE. - Having hit upon the following method of mentally computing the day of the week for any given date, I send it you in the hope that it may interest some of your readers. I am not a rapid computer

myself, and as I find my average time for doing any such question is about twenty seconds, I have little doubt that a rapid computer would not need fifteen.

Take the given date in four portions, viz. the number of centuries, the number of years over, the month, the day of the month.

Compute the following four items, adding each, when found, to the total of the previous items. When an item or total exceeds seven, divide by seven, and keep the remainder only.

The Century-Item. - For old style (which ended September 2, 1752) subtract from 18. For new style (which began September 14) divide by 4, take overplus from 3, multiply remainder by 2.

The Year-Item. - Add together the number of dozens, the overplus, and the number of 4's in the overplus.

The Month-Item. - If it begins or ends with a vowel, subtract the number, denoting its place in the year, from 10. This, plus its number of days, gives the item for the following month. The item for January is "o;" for February or March (the 3rd month), "3;" for December (the 12th month), "12."

The Day-Item is the day of the month. The total, thus reached, must be corrected, by deducting "I" (first adding 7, if the total be "o"), if the date be January or February in a leap year: remembering that every year divisible by 4 is a leap year, excepting only the century-years, in new style, when the number of centuries is not so divisible (e.g., 1800).

The final result gives the day of the week,

[blocks in formation]

EPITAPHS ON DOGS. - The following epitaph, written by Lord Sherbrooke in 1874, on the burial-place of Lady Dorothy Nevill's dogs, seems worthy of being preserved in the columns of Notes and Queries.

Soft lie the turf on those who find their rest
Here on our common mother's ample breast.
Unstained by meanness, avarice, and pride,
They never flattered, and they never lied;
No gluttonous excess their slumber broke,
No burning alcohol, no stifling smoke,
They ne'er intrigued a rival to displace,
They ran, but never betted on a race;
Content with harmless sports and moderate food,
Boundless in love, and faith, and gratitude.
Happy the man, if there be any such,
Of whom his epitaph can say as much.

[blocks in formation]

XII. ICE-BOATING IN THE GULF OF FINLAND, Manchester Guardian,

.

Scotsman,

445

.

446

[ocr errors]

447

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage.

Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks, and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co.

Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGB, 18 cents.

MY SNOW IMAGE.

I.

I RAISED an image when the snow lay white An image fair, with eyes that sparkled bright, And form that shone serenely through the night.

The frost was bitter, and the tempest blew So keen, it pierced the forest through and through;

Yet still my figure stood, and stronger grew.

At last the breeze blew mild, and sunlight shone,

When lo, I looked!-my image fair was

gone

Dead ashes for its feet, its heart a stone.

O Sorrow, was thy lesson told in vain? Methought, that if I built from care and pain An image bright, some glory would remain.

II.

Ere long the year to riper fulness grew:
Glad swallows through the sunny copses flew,
And where the image stood, bright daisies
blew.

All gone the icy stillness and the snow;

I wandered through the dewy meads, and lo!
Like thawing streams I felt my lifeblood flow.

O snowy image, did I sigh for thee?
The May-blooms hung in garlands from the

tree,

And golden kingcups dappled hill and lea.

No more of ice my handiwork shall rise,
But weaved of sunny light from earth and
skies,

And gleanings gathered in by grateful eyes:
No more of cold contentment or despair,
But steadfast Hope, whose breath shall be a
prayer,

And Love, whose light shall show that life is
fair.
Chambers' Journal.

ARTHUR L. SALMON.

THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GEN

TLEMAN."

IN MEMORIAM.

I.

The mystery of life, the hopes, the fears,
And those desires that madden or make

strong.

Pure were thy lips to cry against the wrong, And crown with nobler aims our laboring

years.

Sweet influence was thy dower, and fragrance lies

Round thy departing feet, like Autumn when it flies. G.

II.

"Therefore adieu a little while, à Dieu!

To God we give thee, and to God we tend;
No tears! thou wept'st not; but expect us, friend,
In thy far land where the heavens and earth are
new."

SUCH was thy song, when summer walked the
land

Where Arran hills broke high thro' amber

weather;

"Expect us, friend," and lo! today ye stand

On God's clear hills together!

Oh, true voice hushed; oh, soul, whose steadfast light

Shone soft where darkness was, drew hope
from sorrow;

That which to us was starless, voiceless night,
To thee was God's good-morrow!

Thy life rose calm above life's utmost toss;
Thy words spread cheer throughout earth's
utmost travail;

Though heaven's sweet gain is our exceeding loss,

We may not weep nor cavil.

To God we give thee, though we still shall keep

Thy woman's story of a man true-hearted; Life's task is done, but yet across death's deep

Thy deeds have not departed.

Good Words.

J. H.

NOT with the fame from silver trumpets blown,

Nor voice of pastoral reeds that noise abroad

Some shepherd minstrel's triumph on the

sward

Of Arcady, thy merit shall be known;
Acclaim is theirs who soaring seek a throne
High on the golden peaks, but thou didst
choose

To nest in human hearts, nor ever lose
That dwelling-place; and there to thee was

shown

A TRANSLATION.

AN ANONYMOUS MODERN GREEK SONG.
COULD you ever near me be
What a blissful life of gladness!
But to part so tries the heart,
Fills it with such utter sadness!
Yet, love, when far from thee,
Why is life, ah! why is life still dear to me?
Just a ring of braided hair
Is the only gift remaining.
Nothing else can comfort me,
Lustreless yet love-retaining.
And yet so far from thee

Why live longer? Life no more is dear to me!
Academy.
GEORGE GORDON HAKE.

From The Edinburgh Review.

SIDEREAL PHOTOGRAPHY.

THE application of photography to astronomical research is rapidly transforming its destinies. The more closely the exquisite sky-prints recently taken at Paris and elsewhere are studied, the more opulent of promise they appear. Their pictorial beauty is the least of their merits. In the eyes of the astronomer their eminent value lies in their capability of exact measurement. Upon this basis of fact

The

Celestial photography, as was natural, made its first essay with the moon. broad, mild face of our satellite, diversified with graduated lights and intense shadows, formed a tempting subject for the nascent art. At Arago's suggestion, accordingly, Daguerre exposed one of his sensitive plates to the lunar rays, but with a disappointing result. Nothing worthy the name of a picture made its appearance. Professor J. W. Draper, of New York, however, obtained early in 1840

rest anticipations which to unaccustomed some little prints, not altogether characears sound exaggerated, but which the terless, of the lunar surface, after which future will, unless we are much mistaken, the subject dropped out of sight during

amply justify. We can have no hesitation in admitting that what has been done, not by chance, but on system, can be done again. Results already obtained can be repeated and multiplied. It needs no more - although much more will probably be accomplished - to ensure a new birth of knowledge regarding the structure of the universe.

ten years, It was resumed at Harvard College Observatory by George P. Bond, one of whose lunar daguerreotypes attracted deserved attention at the Great Exhibition in 1851. The light employed to produce them was concentrated by a telescope fifteen inches in aperture, equatorially mounted, and kept fixed by a clockwork movement upon the moving object to be depicted.

Bond's pictures marked the close of the first or tentative period in celestial photography. In 1851 the collodion process was introduced by Frederick Scott Archer, and rapidly superseded all others. Daguerreotypes, lunar, solar, and terrestrial, began to assume an antiquarian interest and aspect.

The scientific importance of Daguerre's invention was perceived from the outset. In formally announcing it to the Academy of Sciences, August 19, 1839, Arago characterized it as "a new instrument for the study of nature," the manifold uses of which must baffle, and would assuredly surpass, prediction. "En ce genre," he added significantly, "c'est sur l'imprévu qu'on doit particulièrement compter." † And it is indeed the unforeseen which has come to pass. Arago himself, with all his readiness to admit incalculable possibilities, would have been staggered by a forecast of the work now actually of light by impregnation with salts of being done. silver. The sensitiveness of these sub

Collodion is a colorless, semi-viscous fluid produced by dissolving gun-cotton in a mixture of alcohol and ether. Spread upon glass, it forms a transparent membrane rendered susceptible to the action

• 1. La Photographie Astronomique à l'Observa- stances is due to their possessing a motoire de Paris et la Carte du Ciel. Par M. le ContreAmiral E. MOUCHEZ. Paris: 1887.

2. An Investigation in Stellar Photography conducted at the Harvard College Observatory. By EDWARD C. PICKERING. Cambridge, U.S.: 1886.

3. First Annual Report of the Photographic Study of Stellar Spectra conducted at the Harvard College Observatory. By EDWARD C. PICKERING, Director. Cambridge, U.S.: 1887.

4. The Applications of Photography in Astronomy. Lecture delivered at the Royal Institution, Friday, June 3, 1887. By DAVID GILL, LL.D., F.R.S. (The Observatory, July and August, 1887.)

5. Die Photographie im Dienste der Astronomie. Von O. STRUVE. (Bulletin de l'Académie Impériale des Sciences de St.-Pétersbourg, Tome xxx. No. 4: 1886.)

† Comptes Rendus, tome ix., p. 264.

lecular equilibrium so delicate as to be overturned by the quick ethereal impacts of the vibrations of violet light. The metal they contain, thus partially released from the bonds of chemical combination, is ready to attract further deposits; and the opportunity of exercising this power of appropriation is afforded by the processes of development. A photograph is hence a picture painted in metallic silver under the regulating influence of light.

Some kinds of development merely complete the "reducing" process begun by the action of light, without adding any fresh metallic supplies.

« PreviousContinue »