and good, for such he had shown himself to be to her. It was something in his favor that he had won this child's love: maybe it would go all the better with him hereafter, because her lips had touched his cold forehead.

So the unbrella-mender carried her to the umbrella shop. He laid her tenderly on the counter, well wrapped in the warm gray shawl. He lit the lamp, and made up the fire in the little inner room, and then, to the best of his ability, improvised a cosey bed, where he placed her, just as she was. Then he knelt by her and guarded her for a while, smiling contentedly when he saw her smiling in her sleep. After an hour or so he left her, and carefully shading the lamp from her eyes, he settled down to read a few pages of Grote's "Greece," in which he had been engaged when he was summoned away to his son's deathbed. He tried to collect his thoughts and concentrate them on the subject, which had a great interest for him; but he found himself thinking now of the artist, now of his son, and he found his eyes wandering away from the pages of Grote's history to the spot yonder where the child was sleeping and smiling, and holding tightly in her hands. Marius Crocker's last gift-book.

"What will she prove?" he said aloud. "Her father is undoubtedly mad. It is a curious sensation being with a madman My heart stood still within me when we were struggling for that picture. Fancy him being quite willing to kill himself because he had murdered Marius!

If he had not been mad he would have

sent me after Marius, instead of choosing to go himself. Well, he is a fine young fellow, and it is a pity he should die.

Then he laughed softly.

"Of course he was mad-his eyes told me that. Still, I am glad to have made his aquaintance. I shall always think of him with pleasure. I wonder how he will get on in the next planet! I trust he will be happy and successful."

Suddenly he became sad and pensive.

"But the umbrella-mender spoke very kindly to me," he murmured to himself, "and he did not once reproach me for having killed Marius. In fact he behaved like a gertleman. And he said something about failure, which struck me as being comforting. Well, I trust that his latter days may be happy and peaceful. That is what we want-peace. confusion and tumult in my brain. Pernever known peace: there was always haps death brings peace. I shall soon find

out about that.

I have

The people of the house heard the report of a pistol. They rushed up to the artist's room, expecting to have to break open the door. But it was not even closed against them; so they passed through without delay, and found the artist fallen on the ground. They raised his head gently.

"I killed that man yonder," he whispered. "Let that be clearly understood. You did not know the umbrella-mender, did you? He is undoubtedly——"

At that moment the artist died. -Blackwood's Magazine.

TURNING Over a little volume which has just been published in illustration of our political wit and humor,*-a very hasty and inadequate illustration of it as any one may see who examines this very thready and scrappy collection of a few of the good sayings of the last thirty or forty years, one is struck by nothing so much as the very trifling influence which wit and humor appear to have had in making the reputation of statesmen. The only statesman who may be said to have won his way to power chiefly by virtue of his wit is, we think, Mr. Disraeli. Lord Palmerston no doubt increased his popularity, after it was already assured, by his genial humor; and possibly Sir William Harcourt may owe at least as much of the reputation he has, to his wit, as he owes to his willingness to perform that strategic operation which the poet Cowper calls changing his side as a lawyer knows how." But we only assume that Lord Beaconsfield and Sir William Harcourt owe a good deal of their influence to their wit, because their wit, and the coolness which is essential to wit, have been so much more remarkable than almost any other political quality they have possessed. Of the other political wits of our time,

66

* Collected and edited by T. Williams. London: Field and Tuer.

hardly any have seemed to owe much of their public influence to its display. The late Lord Westbury and the late Mr. Ayrton certainly made many more enemies than friends by their wit. Lord Melbourne's humor was hardly known at all to the general public till after he had retired from political life. Mr. Bernal Osborne, who was one of the greatest favorites in the House of Commons, never held any important office.

Sir Wilfrid Law

son, who is still a great favorite there, has never held office at all. There is no reason to suppose that either the late Lord Derby or the present Lord Salisbury, both of whom have shown a very pungent wit, have owed a tenth part as much to their wit as to their general oratorical power; and assuredly Mr. Bright, whose humor and irony were remarkable, commanded a vast deal more influence by virtue of his passionate sympathy with the people and his great political sagacity than his humor or irony would ever have gained for him. We believe, indeed, that, politically, humor tells much more as indicating vitality in reserve, the power of looking at the less serious side of political life on the part of those whose whole heart is given to political affairs, than on its own account. It inspires almost no political confidence where it stands alone, as it did in the case of Mr. Bernal Osborne, and does

in that of Sir Wilfrid Lawson. It increases the respect and admiration of the political world where it is but the reverse side of profound political earnestness, or, at the very least, laboriousness, where it shows how much reserve of power there is in the man, besides the power which he devotes to the study of political affairs and the mastery of political history. Even in such instances as Mr. Disraeli and Sir William Harcourt, where the use of the word" earnestness" would be almost absurd, their wit and humor would not have told as it has told, were there not plenty of evidence of the devotion of their minds in good earnest, though not in good earnestness, to the circumstances of the political world with which they have had to deal, and to the manipulation of its intricacies and difficulties. Many very considerable speakers, and many very humorous speakers like the late Mr. Horsman, for instance, or the present Earl of Wemyss, or, as we said before, Mr. Bernal Osborne, have failed entirely because they gave no evidence that they entered heartily into the business of politics, though they loved its lighter side. Lord Palmerston, Lord Beaconsfield, and all the more notable political humorists of the last generation, began by making Parliament see that they had mastered the dreary detail of politics before they gained influence by showing that they were something more than mere politicians, that they had a laugh for what was laughable, as well as a vigilant attention for the minutest aspects of what was important.

And even then, how very commonplace in kind the most effective political humor has often been. For example, let us turn to the evidence given in the little book we have mentioned of Lord Palmerston's humor. In the account there given it consists mainly of his hustings battles with the Tiverton butcher, Mr. Rowcliff, who was one of Lord Palmerston's constituents, and who used habitually to "heckle" him on the hustings in the days when hustings still were. The following was the sort of thing which rightly gained for Lord Palmerston a certain reputation for entering heartily into the vulgarer side of political life, and not being afraid to handle the weapon, however rude a weapon it might be, with which he was attacked :—

"My good friend, Mr. Rowcliff, has reproached me for not coming often enough

among you.

I must say that he does not appear disposed to make my visits here particularly agreeable to me. (Laughter.) I cannot say that the manner in which he receives me affords much encouragement to cultivate the society of persons of his way of thinking. (Renewed laughter.) Whether Mr. Rowcliff is a Radical, a Chartist, or a Tory, I really cannot say. I believe that all parties may have some reason or other for claiming him. Mr. Rowcliff says that I only told you of the good that Governments and Parliaments have done, and that I have myself done, and that I have not told you of the bad. Why, God bless that when he was here. (Loud laughter.) If me! it was quite unnecessary for me to do there was a bad thing to be recorded, to be invented, or to be imagined, I am quite sure Mr. Rowcliff would be the first man to tell when Mr. Rowcliff called out you of it. (Laughter, which was increased Question!') Well, Mr. Rowcliff is impatient under this castigation. I will hit lower or higher, just as he pleases (renewed laughter); but he must allow me to hit somewhere. Mr. Rowcliff has asked me what Government I mean to join.

6

Now, that is a question that must depend upon the future; but I will tell him what Government I do not mean to join. I can assure you and him that I never will join a Government called a Rowcliff Administration. (Great laughter and cheering.) Now, gentlemen, do not you imagine, because you deem it very absurd that there should be such an Administration, that my friend, Mr. Rowcliff, I am not far mistaken in the opinion that he is at all of that way of thinking; for I believe will consider everything going wrong in this world, and in this country, until the Rowcliff Administration shall govern the land. (Loud laughter.)"

There is humor there, if it be, as we think it is, proof of humor, to enter heartily into the attitude of mind of a commonplace assailant, and to appreciate very accurately the sort of thrust which is likely to turn a crowd against him. But it would he childish to suppose that Lord Palmerston's power of giving such replies as these to a man like Rowcliff, had much to do with the confidence which the English public placed in him. Yet Lord Palmerston's humor as displayed in Parliament was much the same in kind, as, for instance, when he replied to that Parliamentary bore of thirty years ago, Mr. Darby Griffith, that a Junior Lordship of the Treasury was still vacant, and then mutely signalled from the Treasury bench to know whether Mr. Darby Griffith would accept it at his hands. Mr. Darby Griffith was silenced for the time as Mr. Rowcliff was silenced for the time, by the readiness with which Lord Palmerston showed his appreciation of the character of his critic's

attacks, and the best mode of meeting them. But readiness of that kind is no sort of ground for political confidence, and, as a matter of fact, except as indicating the great reserve of general vitality on which Lord Palmerston could always fall back, we question whether it was of the smallest political significance. Nor do we think that the best wit and humor which is displayed in Parliamentary battle is often of much political value. It relieves the tedium of debate, and now and then displays a mastery of political analogy which implies a much deeper insight into the reason of the case than any less humorous remark would have indicated. One of the best instances of humor condensing a sound and solid argument into an epigram, is Mr. Gladstone's answer to the Fair traders, as it is given in this little book, though Mr. Gladstone is not usually regarded as one of the political humorists of his day :

"Speaking at Leeds in 1881, on the subject of Fair Trade, Mr. Gladstone thus observed:

Now, what is this Fair Trade system? It proposes that we shall tax foreign manufactures in order that they may untax our manu

factures. That is its first proposal. Well, now, gentlemen, it appears to me to be a considerable exaggeration of a great Christian precept. There is a great Christian precept that, if a man strikes you on one cheek, you should "turn to him the other also ;" but the

precept with Mr. Ecroyd and others is, "if somebody smites you on one cheek, you should smite yourself on the other also." That appears to me to be a needless exaggeration.'

That is condensed logic, as well as a stroke of humor. But it is really very curious to observe how seldom the humorists of political life do embody a real argument in their irony or their mirth. Mr. Lowe attempted it once in his argument against the scheme for grouping boroughs; and undoubtedly, whether the illustration was or was not sound, it was very humorous, though, as a matter of fact, we do not think that it was sound :

attack on Fair trade, we should be disposed to say that while Mr. Gladstone hit the very centre of the target, Mr. Lowe hit the centre only of an imaginary target which has not been shown to have any existence in fact. And, as a rule, it will be found that the humorous sayings which have produced most amusement in Parliament,-like Mr. Bright's as to the difficulty of distinguishing the head from the tail of the Adullamite Party, which for that reason he compared to a Skye terrier; or Mr. Labouchere's apology for not having noticed any drunkenness on the Derby Downs, namely, that of course he, being a vir pietate gravis, would naturally exert a centrifugal repulsion on anybody who was not all sobriety, -have had no political significance whatever. So far as they tended to increase the popularity of the speakers, it was by the impression they produced of their elasticity and buoyancy, not of their political weight of character.

Perhaps we ought to except Mr. Disraeli from the scope of this remark. Not, indeed, that he very often used a sound argument at all. And when he did, he rarely embodied it in a joke. But though he argued very little, he often expressed in his irony a very keen criticism on human nature, and showed that he understood not so much whether a particular proposal was wise or foolish, as why it would be agreeable or disagreeable to the English people. Probably nothing was ever said in the whole course of political controversy which contained more serious observation of the English character and its aversion to any strained type of political eagerness, than the remark he made in 1872 on the great achievements of Mr. Gladstone's first Administration, and on the exhaustion they had left behind them :

"But, gentlemen,' he said, 'as time progressed it was not difficult to perceive that extravagance was being substituted for energy by the Government. The unnatural stimulus was subsiding; their paroxysm ended in prostration. Some took refuge in melancholy, and their eminent Chief alternated between a menace and a sigh. As I sit opposite the Treasury Bench, the Ministers remind me of one of those marine landscapes not unusual on the coast of South America; you behold a range of exhausted volcanoes; not a flame flickers on a single pallid crest; but the situation is still dangerous - there are occasional earthquakes and, ever and anon, the dark rumbling of the sea.""

That was a most graphic and brilliant aperçu of the defects of one of the greatest of modern Administrations, and of the reason why the English people were weary of it. But for the most part, we are

strongly of opinion that the humor and wit of political life is essentially relaxation,

the play which forms a refreshing interlude in the battle, and not a real part of the battle itself.-Spectator.

DARWINISM.

ABOUT EVOLUTION.

An Exposition of the Theory of Natural Selection, with Some of Its Applications. By Alfred Russell Wallace. don and New York: Macmillan & Co.

Lon

Among those whose names are most closely associated with the theory of natural selection, the author of this interesting exposition stands foremost next to Darwin himself. Indeed, Mr Wallace is entitled to the glory of a contemporaneous discovery of the principle. It will be remembered that Mr. Wallace sent to England a paper to be read before one of the scientific societies, formulating the same convictions at nearly the same time as when Darwin first made known his conclusions. Though the full glory of the new departure in scientific thought (for so it is entitled to be called, in spite of the fact that the doctrine of evolution was not in itself new) was not given to Mr. Wallace, his name is indelibly connected with it. The author announces his position in his present book as follows: "I maintain, and even enforce my differences from some of Darwin's views; my whole work tends forcibly to illustrate the overwhelming importance of natural selection over all other agencies in the production of new species. I thus take up Darwin's earlier position, from which he somewhat receded in the later editions of his works, on account of criticisms and objections which I have endeavored to show are unsound. Even in rejecting that phase of sexual selection depending on female choice, I insist on the greater efficacy of natural selection. This is pre-eminently the Darwinian doctrine, and I therefore claim for my book the position of being the advocate of pure Darwinism.''

To the old facts and arguments, which are restated and enforced by our author with great clearness, he adds much that is new, which will be of great interest to the reader. In one respect, however, he differs widely from Darwin, and all of Darwin's most eminent followers. In the application of the principle of

natural selection to man, he declines to believe that man's higher intellectual and moral faculties could have developed by the law of evolution. They must have had another origin, and this origin, he tells us, must be ascribed to the unseen world of spirit. Just how Mr. Wallace attempts to reconcile the apparent contradiction or break in the chain of reasoning with his firm hold on scientific evolution, space will not allow us here to explain, and we must refer the writer to the book itself. To those inclined to believe in Darwinism, and yet reluctant to let go their hold on Theism, the argument of the ingenious author will be immensely significant and suggestive,

Without alluding to the numerous matters of interest which crowd the pages of this volume, we shall content ourselves with referring to his opinions on what he calls the ethical side of that struggle for existence, which is one of the fundamental bases of the doctrine of evolution, which Spencer has named the “survival of the fittest."

He does not believe in the suffering of animals, but asserts that their torments and miseries " are the reflection of the imagined sensations of cultivated men and women." He illustrates his thesis with many illustrations drawn from wide observation and study. He asserts that the torments of anticipation, for example, are unknown to the animal world; and that the violent death, which comes to the majority of animals alike in the cultivated and wild state, is painless unless it is prolonged.

"As a rule," he says, "animals come into existence at a time of year when food is most plentiful and the climate most suitable ; . . . they grow vigorously, being supplied with abundance of food; and when they reach maturity their lives are a continual round of healthy excitement and exercise alternating with complete repose. This normal

state of happiness is not alloyed, as with us, by long periods-whole lives often-of poverty or ill-health, and of the unsatisfied longing for pleasures which others enjoy, but to which we cannot attain."