ver poplar, and caused the white leaves to glisten like little rippling waves upon the surface of a lake.

Sonnenkamp smiled in a very friendly where the gloomy cedar was placed near way, when Eric, in order to show that he the hardy fir, and the gentle morning comprehended, replied, that a park must breeze whispered in the foliage of the sil appear to be nature brought into a state of cultivation; and that the more one knows how to conceal the shaping hand and the disposing human genius, and allows all to appear as a spontaneous growth, so much the more is it in accordance with the pure laws of art.

A little brook, which came down from the mountain and emptied into the river, was made to wind about with such skill, that it kept disappearing and appearing again at unexpected points, saying by its murmur, Here I am."

In the disposition of resting-places, particularly good judgment was exhibited. Under a solitary weeping-ash that cast a perfectly circular shadow, a pretty seat was placed for a single person, and it seemed to say invitingly, "Here thou canst be alone!" The seat, however, was turned over, and leaned up against the tree.

66

This is my daughter's favorite spot," Sonnenkamp said.

"And have you turned over the seat, so that no one may occupy it before your child returns?"

"No," Sonnenkamp replied, "that is entirely by chance, but you are right, so it shall be."

The two went on farther, but Eric hardly saw the beautiful, comfortable benches, and hardly listened while Sonnenkamp declared to him that he did not place these on the open path, but behind shrubbery, so that here was a solitude all ready made.

A table was placed under a beautiful maple, with two seats opposite one another. Sonnenkamp announced that this place was named the school; for here Roland at intervals received instruction. Eric rejoined that he never should teach sitting in the open air; it was natural to give instruction while walking, but regular, definite teaching, which demanded concentration of the mind, demanded also an enclosed space in which the voice would not be utterly lost.

Sonnenkamp had now a good opportunity to tell Eric what conclusion he had arrived at in regard to the matter in hand, but he was silent. As an artist takes delight in the criticisms of an intelligent observer, who unfolds to him concealed beauties which he was hardly aware of himself, so he took delight in perceiving how understandingly, and with how much gratification, Eric took note of the various improvements, and of the grouping of trees and shrubs.

They stood a long time before a group

Near a little pond with a fountain was a bower of roses, upon a gentle elevation, patterned according to a dream of Frau Ceres; and here Sonnenkamp remained stationary, saying:

"That was at the time when I was still very happy here in our settlement, and when everything was still in a sound and healthy condition."

Eric stopped, questionin whether he ought to tell Herr Sonnenkamp of yesterday's strange occurrence. Sonnenkamp said, accompanying his words with peculiar little puffs, as if he were lightly and carefully blowing a fire,

My wife often has strange whims; but if she is not contradicted she soon forgets them."

He appeared suddenly to remember that it was not necessary to say this, and added with unusual haste,

"Now come, and I will show you my special vanity. But let me ask you one thing; does it not seem dreadful to you, who are a philosopher, that we must leave all this, that we know we must die; and while everything around continues to grow green and bloom, he who planted and acquired the means to plant is here no more, but moulders in the dust?"

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"I should not have believed that you indulged in such thoughts."

"You are right to answer so. You must not ask such questions, for no one knows their answer," said Sonnenkamp sharply and bitterly; "but one thing more. I wish Roland to understand rightly this creation of mine and to carry it on, for such a garden is not like a piece of sculpture, or any finished work of an artist; it is growing, and must be constantly renewed. And why should there not be granted us the certainty of transmitting to our posterity what we have conquered, created, or fashioned, without fear that strangers will at some time enter into possession and let all go to waste?"

64

You believe," answered Eric, “that I know no answer to the first of your questions, and I must confess, that I do not quite understand the second."

"Well, well, perhaps we will talk of it again—perhaps not," Sonnenkamp broke off. "But come now and let me show you my special pride."

From The Saturday Review.

COLONEL CHESNEY'S WATERLOO LEC

TURES.**

poleon's reserves three hours before dark, had brought 50,000 men into action at the time of Wellington's grand charge, which in England is often supposed alone to have THE short duration of the Waterloo cam- won the battle, and lost 7,000 killed and paign, the simplicity of its strategy, and wounded in the action. But it is not only the decisive nature of its results, have the eccentricities of English accounts which caused its history to be adopted at the Colonel Chesney exposes; as he truly reStaff College as a rudimental lesson in the marks, "French historians in their accounts study of military art. Colonel Chesney, sin not merely by omission, but by wilful who, until promoted to a superior rank, repetition of error from book to book, long was the Professor of this subject at that after the truth has been given to the world." Institution, has published to the world the In the French accounts of the Waterloo lectures which he there delivered to the campaign, which are almost all apologies students. In their compilation he has con- for defeat, it is only natural that these ersulted all the authorities on the subject, rors should abound. They have for the French, German, and English, and has pro- most part been frequently denounced, but duced a work of great value to the future have seldom been so coolly taken to pieces historian and to the general reader. The and placed aside as in the elaborate and inwork is extremely valuable, but as it bears cisive criticisms, and calm comparisons of everywhere the impress of the naked truth, testimony, to which Colonel Chesney exit is intensely unflattering to the national poses them. It is a great advantage that vanity of both French and English. Ro- he has done so to our students of military mantic stories concerning the campaign, history. Englishmen as a rule are very which have hitherto passed current with all deficient in knowledge of foreign tongues. the air of military authority, are ruthlessly French is almost the only Continental landissected, the one-sided praise which has guage with which the majority of our offibeen indiscriminately heaped on Napoleon cers are acquainted. As a consequence, and Wellington by their own admirers is French military histories, which are nearly considerably modified, and the real impor- always fallacious, have been followed altance of the Prussian intervention in the most implicitly as guides to the investigafinal action is fairly and honestly shown. tions of any campaigns except those in Even well-informed Englishmen have been which British troops have borne a share, long accustomed to regard the campaign while the more accurate and careful histories and battle of Waterloo as a trial of strength in German have been regarded almost as between the French and English armies, sealed books. Where British troops have in which the latter was brilliantly success- been engaged, our national vanity and inful, and was aided only in the very last few moments of the battle, and in the pursuit of the defeated enemy, by the soldiers of Blucher. The publication of the posthumous work of Sir J. Shaw Kennedy did something to shake this popular delusion, but still the idea is generally held, perhaps not quite with the assurance of faith, but still with all the obstinacy of superstition. Colonel Chesney has done a good service in completing the work of Sir J. Shaw Kennedy. He points out that, while histories of the battle written by Englishmen abound with such phrases as, "When night approached, the heads of the Prussian colNever in the whole of military history was umns were seen advancing to share in the combat," or "The Prussians, who were the tactical value of the troops more entirely comparatively fresh, continued the pursuit," subordinate to the strategical operations. He in truth Blacher was on the ground at half- knows not what the battle of Waterloo was who past four (the battle only began at half-views in it merely the shock of two great armies, past twelve), was hotly engaged with Na- English and French, continued through a fierce day's fighting, until the superior endurance of the British line shatters, and finally overthrows, their exhausted enemy. The eye that sees this in it and sees no more, forgetful of the long columns toiling through deep muddy lanes on

*Waterloo Lectures: a Study of the Campaign of 1815. By Lieutenant Colonel Charles C. Chesney: R.E., late Professor of Military Art and History at the Staff College. London: Longmans & Co. 1868.

sular self-conceit have generally led us to follow servilely any account which might be hastily published to exhibit to an admiring country the glorious actions of its heroes.

In the Waterloo campaign the pictorial incidents of the concluding action have been so much dwelt upon that the strategy which led up to the final event has been almost disregarded. Colonel Chesney has devoted his lectures almost entirely to the strategical operations, and has only cast a passing glance upon the less important tactical evolutions. In justification of this course he truly says:

the French flank, the sturdy legions of North | ful of a ruse, and expectant that he might Germans, with clenched teeth and straining be attacked on the right to cut him off from limbs, forcing their guns through mire and over his communications with the sea, did not obstructions, the fierce old chieftain who is seen alter his position until the enemy more exwherever his encouragement is needed, and posed his intentions. everywhere is greeted as their father by those he urges on, the cool and disciplined staff who are preparing to make the most decisive use of the coming masses in the assault on their hated enemy, does not only monstrous injustice to Blucher and his army, but robs Wellington of his due. For Wellington regarded not the matter thus. He knew and looked for the approaching army of his ally as part of the fight; he watched from early afternoon the lessening pressure which told that Napoleon was forced to draw away his reserves from the main battle; above all, he had prepared in concert with the old Prince Marshal this fatal stroke of war, and not to understand or ignore this is to miss the real design with which the fight was joined.

himself, with a beaten army, in very wet weather, into a country devoid of good roads, encumbered with watercourses and marshes. This movement of Blucher's decided the campaign. It was hazardous, no doubtso hazardous that Napoleon did not imagine it would be attempted; if it had miscarried it would have been loudly condemned; but it proved right, as most hazardous movements do in war, where, as a rule, much more is lost by timidity than by temerity. We have never seen, in any account of the campaign, sufficient importance attributed to Blucher's choice of his line of retreat. The defeat of Blucher at Ligny severed his communication with Wellington, to whom the position of Quatre Bras was now no longer of importance, as its advantage was to cover the road which communicated between the two armies. Wellington, on the 17th, accordingly retreated towards Brussels to a point where he could cover the town, and sent to Blucher to say that he would stand to fight at Waterloo provided the Prussians could help by detaching two corps against the flank of his assailant. Blucher replied that he would come to help the British, not only with two corps but with his whole army. Napoleon, on the night of the 17th, took up a position in front of Wellington's line at Waterloo. On the morning of the 18th, instead of attacking the British position at the first blush of day, in order to defeat Wellington before the Prussians could help him, he waited till after midday. The attack was sustained with difficulty for some hours, but about half-past four the Prussian columns appeared on the French flank. Blucher, leaving a detachment to hold Grouchy in check, had arrived. The Prussians pressed on, and took the pressure off the wearied British. After a time Wellington was able to advance, and the French began to retreat. The retreat was quickly turned into a rout, mainly by the effect of the Prussian artillery, which had gained a position whence it commanded the road to the Sambre, and smote mercilessly on the flank of the retreating columns. This was the culminating triumph of the strategy of the Waterloo campaign; and the triumph was, if not mainly due to Blucher, certainly due to him equally with Wellington.

tures, it might be that the criticism is almost too elaborate, and the judicial investigation of evidence too deep, for any audience to which lectures could be addressed; still, he had disputed ground to travel over, and he has certainly striven successfully to present every detail clearly and truthfully. The Staff College may certainly be congratulated that such honest inquirers and brilliant writers as Colonel Chesney and his predecessor, Colonel Hamley, have filled its chair of history, and pointed out the line for their successors to pursue.

From The Spectator.

THE TYRANNY OF UPHOLSTERY. THE tyranny of fashion in dress is no doubt very absurd, but it is not half so absurd. as the tyranny of fashion in upholstery. There is some sort of reason for the one, but there is none at all for the other. Female fashions, in particular, are ultimately regulated by artists of more or less ingenuity and knowledge, the process of establishing a new fashion being something of this kind. Designs are made, in the first place, by designers in the pay of the great Parisian milliners, are tried on people of the demi-monde, who rather like to be conspicuous, are submitted, if they succeed, to the Empress and a few great ladies, and if approved are worn, and then, being puffed by milliners and described in fashion books, make the tour of Europe. They are very seldom, therefore, wholly devoid of taste or true principle, especially as to the combination of colours; and it is an open question whether "fashion" in dress does not preserve society from one of two disasters, the wearing of outrageous garments by women sure to be imitated, or the general adoption of a costume pretty or ugly, which thenceforward would never be seriously changed. The unchangeable eostume might be a pleasant one for family treasuries, but it would tend slightly to stereotype a society in which the most dangerous of temptations is towards stereotyping. It must never be forgotten that in Europe for a woman to be very conspicuous is either to be slightly immodest, or to be thought so, either being a sound reason Colonel Chesney has shown this, and the for a certain tameness in submitting to uniarray of evidence and research which he formity, and to endure permanence and displays will fully bear out his demonstra- uniformity at once would ultimately extion. He has demolished many theories tinguish the faculty of discrimination altoand many traditions, both French and Eng-gether. That argument can hardly, howlish.. But he has conscientiously and im- ever, be pleaded in defence of the tyranny partially performed his duty. If any ex- of upholstery, in which, when excellence ception could be taken to the Waterloo Lec- has once been obtained, novelty is of very VOL. XII. 476

LIVING AGE.

minor consequence, and permanence is the by far the cheapest of all carpets in the condition of true art. Without perma- long run, except, indeed; the beautiful nence the outlay attendant on good designs hand-made fabrics now turned out in the and thorough workmanship cannot be incurred, and people who like "pretty things," but have short purses, are compelled to submit to the tender mercies of upholsterers, who have just three objects, to keep up the practice of setting up a drawing-room, to invent no furniture which requires individual work, and cannot, therefore, be turned out in thousands of specimens, and to change such designs as can be so turned out as often as possible. With these objects they are compelled to make war at once against solidity and originality, a permanent war, in which, as they well know, they are battling for the prosperity as dear to them as life.

The very highly placed and the very rich often set them at defiance, the mania for new furniture seldom seizing a very old family; while the rich, whom it does seize, gratify it independently; but the upholsterers usually win their battle against the middle class, which has on such subjects neither originality nor nerve. They dare not even distribute their rooms as they like. There are thousands, tens of thousands of women in England, with from £300 to £3,000 a year, who persist in ruining good houses by devoting the best apartment, usually in London a lop-eared suite,

factories of Mirzapore and the jails of the Punjab. These latter are absolutely perfect, Cashmerians having designed the patterns, while convicts dare not turn out any but thoroughly honest, painstaking work. They know also that a carpet has no business in dusty corners, under bookcases or chairs, in places where convenience as well as beauty requires either stained boards, or, better still, encaustic tiling; but they persist all the same in buying a Brussels carpet twice as big as they want, woven of a material which loses its freshness in two years, and of a pattern often glaring, and usually absurd. Who treads on flowers anywhere if he can help it? They can give no reason for not putting the carpets they acknowledge to be good in the drawingroom, except that "nobody does it," — the very reason why, if they want to make society as various in its external fittings as possible, they ought to choose and arrange furniture as they please. It is the same with their mirrors, and mantlepieces, and fireplaces. Why are mirrors in a climate like that of London always to have gilt borders, which seldom suit the paper, are often spotty, and never set off the glass? Why not? asks Mr. Eastlake: "Let to such mirrors be fitted in plain solid frames of wood, say three or four inches in width, enriched with delicate mouldings or incised ornament? If executed in oak, they may be left of their natural colour: if in the commoner kinds of wood, they can be ebonized (i.e., stained black), and further decorated with narrow gold stripes running transversely over the mouldings." Just because the upholsterers will not let them, putting on all such work a prohibitory price, and forbidding clever artizans to carry out private orders for themselves. Nothing is so costly as a piece of fancy furniture made to order, and nothing so reprehended by the average upholsterer as originality, except, indeed, solidity. Why should not a cabinet in a drawing-room be solid, even when it is not made of ebony and ivory, which upholsterers permit, not because they admire graceful work, but because they love expense, but why not also oak very slightly inlaid? Such a cabinet would outlive all the vulgar ormolu and marqueterie ever imitated from the designs which pleased Louis the Fifteenth's vulgar mistresses.

a drawing-room filled with furniture they dislike and are afraid to break, but think it correct to have. They want one of the two rooms, it may be, very much to sit in, and let their children move about in- for a "living-room" in fact- but they think it necessary to their "position" to furnish both in a way which renders easy life impossible, and necessary to their purses to protect such furniture till, from the housemaid to the owner, it is a nuisance to all who come in contact with it. A "parlour" in the old sense that is, a light room filled with tables, chairs, and sofas to lounge on, all simple, all solid, and all meant to be used, would answer their ends exactly, and so would a library; but they. cannot have either, because if they did, their cousins and visitors might by possibility think that arrangement unusual. Take, for example, the imbecility on which Mr. C. Eastlake, in his recent charming book upon "household taste," is so justifiably severe. Half the educated women in England recognize the beauty of the Turkey carpet, with its gently blended shades, its softness to the foot, its durability, and its curiously pleasant relation to furniture of almost any colour, and some of them are aware that it is

Mr. Eastlake, in his attack on the upholsterers, goes too far, we think, in the direction of solidity and mediævalism; his