love. But no music will ever be worthy of Shakespeare's verses; and them only will lovers read and repeat again and again.

them

An interesting attempt made at the Odéon by M. Vitu to adapt an Italian piece of M. Giacometti's, "La Mort Civile," to the French stage, is deserving of notice. Both in France and Italy Salvini owed one of his great successes to this piece. A Sicilian painter has carried off a young girl and married her; in a fray he has killed his wife's brother, who wanted to take her back to her parents, and has been condemned to the galleys. At the end of a year he escapes and finds his wife living as governess in the house of a charitable doctor, who has adopted the painter's daughter and gives her out to be his child. The girl herself believes the doctor is her father. The painter, mad with jealousy and love, wants at first to take back both wife and daughter, but vanquished by the greatness of soul of his wife, who has herself renounced a mother's rights for the sake of her daughter's happiness, he condemns and kills himself. The piece is naif and naïvely treated. Some Parisian critics were astonished at its success, and recalled the failure of an analogous piece by M. Edmond, "L'Africain." But that piece wanted sincerity and conviction; you were conscious of a substratum of Parisian bragging in it. "La Mort Civile," on the contrary, is unskilfully con

structed, but the sentiments are true and human. The scene in which the painter makes his wife confess that she loves the doctor, though she has never let him see it, is admirable in its pathos; and when she bids her daughter kneel down at the feet of her dying father, and call him father because he had had a daughter who resembled her and whom he passionately loved, not an eye remained dry. The great success of "La Mort Civile" proves that ability is not so necessary on the stage as is supposed; that the essential thing is to be human and true. A common coloured engraving that is true in sentiment is often more touching than the production of the most delicate brush if it be affected and false.

The artistic world has been somewhat excited lately by M. Massenet's nomination to the musical section of the Académie des Beaux Arts. M. Massenet's competitor was M. Saint-Saens, and in the eyes of musicians the latter ought to have been preferred. He is M. Massenet's superior both as regards the number of his works, and the power and loftiness of his inspiration. But M. Massenet is more popular; his "Roi de Lahore" has been played at the Opera; he is an amiable man, and his romances have had the run of all the salons. And whilst M. Saint

Saens had all the musicians of the Academy on his side, M. Massenet had all the remainder, the painters, sculptors, engravers, and architects. No doubt he too deserved admission to the Institute, but the author of "Samson and Dalila," the "Rouet d'Omphale," " 'Phaéton," "La Jeunesse d'Hercule," " 'La Danse Macabre," should have entered before him.

G. MONOD, in Contemporary Review.

THE SCHOOL-SHIP SHAFTESBURY.

WHAT has happened to the London street Arab? Is he going the way the Mohicans, and the Cheroquees, and other wild tribes? No: he is going a much better way. He is being turned into a civilised, respectable, and useful member of society. Like the Red Indians, he is being "improved off the face of the earth;" but in his case it is happily by transformation, not by extermination. He is certainly not so conspicuous a feature of London street life as he used to be. The watchman's bull's-eye searches in vain many of the dark corners where he used to crouch at night. He is by no means so frequent a visitor to the policecourt. The cells reserved for his occasional occupation in the gaols are to a large extent vacant. From the stipendiary magistrate down to policeman X, all metropolitan authorities agree that the street Arab promises soon to become one of the vanishing curiosities of the old world. For instance, it was stated by Sir Charles Reed in his speech on the e-assembling of the School Board after the midsummer recess, that whereas the number of juvenile prisoners in the county gaol at Newingon had been three hundred and sixty-seven in 1870, it had fallen last year to one hundred and forty-six. And this is not an accidental or an exceptional diminution. There has been a constant and gradual decrease; and the reports of Colonel Henderson are to the same effect.

To what happy influence is this change due? Do we already behold the fulfilment of those prophecies so boldly made at the advent of school boards, that reading, writing, and arithmetic would be the antidote to every poison in our civilisation? Scarcely. There has been a good deal more than the proverbial "three R's" at work in this field. Whatever success may be fairly claimed here has been due to one particular provision of the Elementary Education Act, which gave new life to older methods of benevolent work. Industrial schools had done much good service before school boards came into existence, but like many other charitable institutions they were greatly cramped for want of means. Now the Act of 1870 gave power to school boards both to build industrial schools for themselves, and to subsidize other institutions of the kind. The London Board has availed itself of both powers. It has now two industrial schools of its own, and has made contributions to almost every such school in England in order to secure places for its street Arabs. The number of boys disposed of in this way has been 3,867, while altogether between seven and eight thousand have been taken off the streets. The time elapsed is yet too short to judge of the effect which the training received may have upon the future character and career of this juvenile multitude; but the effect of their exodus upon the London streets and prisons is unmistakably evident.

But it is of one part only of this great work that we propose to speak now. For many reasons a seafaring life offers special advantages to these rescued boys. We give no opinion as to the desirability of such a life in general. But where one great danger to the youth leaving school is the risk of entanglement in the bad associations of earlier days, or where a lad's chief temptations arise from exuberant animal spirits and a bold adventurous temper, he may do many worse things than go to sea. Now there are of course many such boys among the thousands taken off the streets by the London School Board. And the best school for them is a floating school, where they may not only be come accustomed to the order and discipline necessary on board ship, but may also receive elementary instruction in practical seamanship. Many such floating industrial schools exist round the coast. But after every available place had been occupied in them, many promising boys had to be sent to institutions less fitted for them. This led those members of the Board who give themselves more especially to industrial school work, to consider the expediency of establishing a school-board ship in the Thames. Application was accordingly made to the Government for the grant of a disused ship suitable for the purpose. Most of the school-ships previously in existence had been in the days of their youth frigates or line of battle-ships. Thus the earlier part of their career was passed in serving Great Britain by the destruction of her enemies, while their tranquil old age is passed in serving her by the salvation of her children. The former service may have been necessary; but surely few would deny that in this case the words of the Preacher are singularly fulfilled, "better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof." But the School Board were disappointed in their application. The Government had no suitable ship to dispose of in such a manner; and the Board were obliged to look elsewhere. An old screw-steamer of the Peninsular and Oriental line, unsuitable for the new line of traffic through the Suez Canal, was advertised for sale about this time, and a thorough inspection showed her to be well adapted to the object in view. After undergoing the necessary alterations and repairs, she was moored in a berth specially dredged for her, off Grays. Her former name was the Nubia, but with a natural and pleasant recognition of the great services rendered by Lord Shaftesbury to the class of poor and neglected boys, she was renamed after him. It was a bright autumn day when the present writer joined a few friends bent on seeing this new life-boat-for such indeed she is. The part of the London, Tilbury, and Southend Railway which passes through East London does not afford much scope for picturesque observations, whether under a bright autumn sun or any other kind of light. But it gives many a glimpse of squalid misery and human need; it suggests many a dim perspective of dark experience, which formed our best preparation for the visit we were to make. From these grimy lanes, flanked by staring public-houses, like Satan's sentinel-boxes to guard against all invasions of heavenly influences, many a boy is driven

forth by ill-usage, neglect, and starvation, to pick up his living as best he may. On the other hand; even the best-disposed parents in such regions find an almost insuperable difficulty in keeping their boys from evil influences that sweep them away from home control. Indeed, family life is impossible under the conditions imposed by necessity on many of the London poor; and one of the most promising reforms of the present day is the improved system of erecting workmen's dwellings in blocks, by which the economy of land enables the builder to give better accommodation for the same rent. But at present we have to do not with radical reforms (properly so called) which go to the root of the evil, but only with one which seeks to nip it in the bud, just where a naughty boy is beginning to turn into a vicious and criminal man.

The prospect brightened across the Essex marshes, where the grey green of the autumn grass was dotted with dull-red cattle, and touched with a chilly sunshine. And when, towards Grays, the river opened full in view, all eyes were searching for the object of our visit, as though the earliest glimpse of it was a matter not lightly to be sacrificed.

"There she is!" cried a friend;-"there, near the Exmouth!" Be it observed that the Exmouth is a workhouse ship; that is, she takes from various Unions the boys thought best adapted for a sailor's life. This is the ship whose predecessor was burnt some years ago, when the steadiness, discipline, and even heroism of the boys excited universal sympathy and admiration. How much better off are these boys than in the depressing atmosphere of a workhouse! It is not inappropriate that the school-board ship should be so near to a sister vessel engaged in so similar a work. But while our friend is bidding us observe the long, shapely lines of the Shaftesbury contrasted with the bluff proportions of her consort, and is explaining the advantages involved in her iron construction-all previous school-ships being, we believe, of wood -the train stops at the station and we dismount. The captain and one of the officers are there to meet us, distinguished by their naval uniform. And, indeed, smarter-looking officers are probably not be met with in the navy than these of the Shaftesbury. It might have been supposed that a body elected like the School Board would have been less free than the committee of a voluntary society to give moral and religious considerations their full weight in selecting men for this philanthropic work. Experience, however, so far does not justify such a fear. While insisting upon seamanlike experience and skill, the Board has clearly been guided in its selection by evidence of previous interest in Christian work on the part of the candidates, and of a disposition to regard as a sacred trust the office that they sought.

At the landing-place we found the ship's cutter awaiting us, mannedif the expression be not inappropriate-by ten or a dozen boys in their blue jackets and sailor's hats. On the first glance it seemed impossible to believe that these smart-looking lads had, only a few months before, been waifs and strays on the streets. But a closer inspection showed

that the traces of neglect and misery were not yet wholly effaced, and, to say truth, the handling of the oars as we pushed off proved that they were as yet but the raw material for sailors. Yet the cheerful energy with which they scrambled the boat along-so to speak-showed at least contentment and willinghood. We first pulled alongside the tender Swift, a small barque-rigged vessel attached to the Shaftesbury for the purpose of exercising the boys in the actual duties of a voyage, by short trips to the mouth of the river. We then dropped down to the schoolship, and on ascending the companion-ladder found ourselves on a grand sweep of deck 290 feet long, with a breadth of 38 feet at the broadest part. This deck has been added, in adapting the ship to her present purpose. Through the wide hatches, fitted with broad ladders like flights of stairs, we could see the main deck, where the mess-tables were being rapidly cleared. Beneath that again is the dormitory, with beds for three hundred and fifty boys, only about sixty of whom had been admitted at the time of our visit. On the main deck are classrooms with all needful apparatus for instruction. Below the sleeping deck, and resting on the concrete which forms the ballast, is the heating apparatus, secure from dangers of fire, since it has nothing round it but the iron famework of the vessel. At the same depth there is also a band-room for the noisy and necessarily discordant practice of the tyros of the band. But indeed some of the latter had already made progress enough to strike up a lively march as we made our appearance on deck, while the boys not otherwise on duty paraded past us.

As we have already said, there is not much at first sight to distinguish these lads from any other young sailor-boys; but, as we pick up infor mation about their individual histories, our interest and our sympathy are vastly deepened. There, for instance, is one, aged twelve, appar.. ently healthy, happy, and innocent-looking. Surely such a boy would have done very well at an ordinary day-school? Such is our inexperienced impression; but that only shows how little we know about it. This very boy was picked up a few months ago, wandering homeless in Southwark at two o'clock in the morning. He was half-starved and in a deplorable condition of rags and filth. The inquiries of the police found out his father; but there was no use in sending him home, for the latter had no control, was in ill-health, and had not seen the lad for a quarter of a year. Here is another, whose father is a solicitor's clerk, with pay at the rate of thirty shillings a week. Of course such a father is required to make a proportionate contribution towards the cost of keeping the boy on the ship. But some will perhaps maintain that the community ought to be burdened with no part of the expense in such a case. Yet, after all, is the community quite blameless? The truth is, certain bad elements, for a long time neglected and even fostered by the community, laid hold of this lad and made a thief of him. He had a marked inclination for bad companions; and bad companions existed in sad abundance, owing in a great measure to the conditions of society amongst us, Here is a third, whose mother ekes out by needlework the