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structure than its more imposing neigh- in the other direction from the lake bours.
towards the Administration Building. But a little distance in from the shore Such are the chief buildings of this of the lake where the Victoria House great Exhibition. They, however, form stands is one of the prettiest buildings in but a small part of the total number of the park, that devoted to Fisheries. Our structures with which Jackson Park is view gives so good an idea of it that no being rapidly covered. The forty-four description is wanted. In the decorations States and Territories of the Union are the artist has very cleverly carried out erecting each its own pavilion. Eighteen the idea adopted by Mr. Waterhouse at foreign countries are doing the same. the Natural History Museum, South Special buildings are being put up for Kensington, and has introduced no other exhibits connected with Forestry, Dairyforms but those of aquatic creatures. work, and Leather Manufacture. There
Quaint sea-beasts of every imaginable is to be a reproduction of the Convent of monstrosity curl round the pillars, sprawl La Rabida in Palos, the Spanish port over the walls, and are twined and twisted from which Columbus sailed. The into the mouldings.
southern end of the park is occupied with Turning back to the lake near the sheds and stabling for the great Livedomed building of the United States Gov- Stock Shows which will be continued ernment, we see lying off the shore a during the summer ; while the whole of modern ironclad. If one wondered at the broad boulevard known as the Midway anything in an exhibition, one would feel Plaisance, and connecting Jackson and surprised at finding a 10,000-ton man-of- Washington Parks, will be filled with war on the waters of Lake Michigan places of amusement-shows, cafés, comfortably moored in about six feet of Eastern bazaars, and the like. When to water. Inquiry, if not inspection, would this it is added that all the available sites reveal the fact that U.S. Steamship in the park will be occupied by restaurants Nlinois is made of bricks and mortar, and by the pavilions and kiosks of built up from the ground in the lake. specially important exhibitors, some idea
From this point we may follow the may be formed of the new city of marvels broad esplanade by the edge of the lake which Chicago is erecting beside herself between it and what may be termed the for the amusement and instruction of sea front of the Manufactures Building the millions of visitors whom she has until we find ourselves at the other end of invited to her festival during the year now the great canal, looking down its length just begun.
HE little vessel swung
Overhead the palms waved their graceful round, as we hove her heads and threw a refreshing shade to, and we were facing around. Here and there a huge bunch of the native village of nuts hung temptingly downwards, and the Soma Soma, the resi- long grass and wild flowers threw up a dedence of Ratu Lala-last lightful scent, such as no artificial cultivadescendant of the kings tion can produce.
of Fiji. It consisted of The storms of the wet seasons had about a hundred huts, clustering around toned the thatch of the roof and the an inlet, where the waves came gently plaited sides of the house down to a warm lapping the coral beach, and made a soft brownish grey-a soft, retiring effect murmuring noise that blended well with which suggested dreamland; and as I the hum that rose from the village.
stood and looked and waited for “His A low hill rose in the background, Majesty,” I fell to picturing a dreamy, covered from foot to crest with foliage poetical individual, with a far-away look, and rich green growth; whilst overhead and a shambling gait, and a mellow one could only gaze in bewildered rapture musical voice-when a tall form clad in at the dreamy blue of the sky-cloudless rough tweeds, woven with a coarse patand serene—a perfect finish to the land- tern, stood before me, and grinned. scape.
“ How-doo ?” he said, lacadaisically, I stepped eagerly ashore, and, with his hands thrust deeply into his side pockcamera in hand, inquired for Ratu Lala's ets, after the fashion of the most approved residence. A dozen hands pointed in European aristocrat.
“ Glad to see you, reply, and another minute found me -though I didn't expect company,--ah ! standing before the thatched domicile —and it isn't much of a shanty, is it ? ” shown in the accompanying picture. He wore knickerbockers, with thick woollen stockings and high water-tight “ You like them ? Take them, my dear boots, a costume particularly unsuited to fellow ! Ah! No -now no thanks, my the climate—and a cigar dangled from his dear boy!” lips. I could scarcely believe my eyes, and but for his complexion, should have Though grateful for the kindness of my taken my host for an English countryman, host, I have always remembered with just returned from a day's shooting. amusement, this my only experience of
We were soon seated inside on the hobnobbing with the descendant of a race clean mats that strewed the floor, with of real kings. bottles of brandy and whisky beside us, Poor Ratu Lala! His nearest ancestors and cigars. A pretty, tawny, Tongan had fought against the advance of British girl, of about sixteen, sat bashfully apart. civilisation. They had repulsed our “My wife,” the host explained,
traders and eaten our missionaries. But that is her pretty little sister," pointing to the last of their line has permitted himself another damsel.
to be enlightened and educated and “It's awfully 'slow, here!” he con- civilised, until he presents most of the tinued ; “no billiards or anything." characteristics of a western race of the
He saw me eying some beautifully nineteenth century. plaited fans that hung on the walls.
A WINTER SONG.
By SOPHY SINGLETON.
Skies are grown cold and drear,
Bare ev'ry forest tree,
Flow'rs a bright memory
Birds the fir boughs among,
Hush for a while their breath,
Waiting till Spring or Death
Though I, of all around,
Have nothing lost as yet,
And amidst Earth's regret
Still, if a Winter fall
O'er my heart's world of Love,
I shall weep soon enough
HERE is no name Mirror of Venus, is uninhabited
amongst our stretch of upland valley, amongst hills, modern painters, beautiful but very lonely. The rose in which calls up
Briar Rose is not the garden rose, but the so much varied wild one, painted with exquisite fidelity. criticism as that The shore the angels stand on in The of Mr. Burne- Six Days of Creation is not
of Jones. His pic
Earth's human shores, never was there
tures form sand so delicate, never were there shells meeting place for the critic, the artist, so exquisite of tint or shape. But and the general public.
though his love of Nature does not impel What, then, is the mainspring of his him to follow her in all her moods or genius? What has combined to form the manifestations, his care in representing peculiar style of his artistic power? What her forms is entirely painstaking and are the tendencies that we see figured in extreme. I cannot tell if it was his early his work ? To answer these questions companionship with certain members of will be my best endeavour.—His genius the pre-Raphaelite brotherhood (though springs from a nature deeply imbued with he never joined them), which made him a poetic sense. Beauty he sees every- so careful in his delineation, and so truthwhere-in tender womanhood, in the ful in every small detail. It is almost charm of girlhood, in the world of Nature, curious to see side by side with such in legend and fairy-lore, in classic tale dreamy conceptions an intense accuracy and heathen myth-in all these he finds of detail and searching into the minutest poetic charm. The realm of the past, item. This extreme carefulness is shown touched by his own imagination, is inex- by his countless studies made for every haustible in furnishing him with concep- picture-studies of drapery, as it falls on tions and themes for artistic utterance ; arm, or knee, or shoulder ; studies of he is only disturbed by their frequency every part of armour, and the lights on it ; and richness. But I may say that we studies of the gradation of hues and have no imaginative painter, who is ap- tints ; and feathers, with all their delicate parently so untouched by the events or involvement- all this, and more than I can progress of the world as it is at present. name, witness to his painstaking method
His imagination is both rich and pene- in regard to every part of his work. I trating, but never was there artist less have no hesitation in saying that this fanciful—which accounts perhaps for the artist is a perfect draughtsman. People very serious tone of his work ; the light, may not admire his style, but that is the gay, the sportive has no place with quite another thing. The turn of a head, him, that side of humanity is never re- or the shape of a figure may not suit presented, nor is the humorous, the their taste, but that is no proof it is grotesque or the plaintive. He loves all deformed or out of shape, so long as it is Nature, but it is Nature untouched by man, harmonious in itself, it does not break he never paints a garden, or a park, or the rules of good drawing. any tilled ground. The landscape in the Accuracy of drawing is a good thing, 1 From Edward Burne-Jones: a Record and Re
it is the letter of the law, but there is view, by Malcolm Bell. London: George Bell & Sons, something finer even than the latter-it 4 York Street, Covent Garden. Second Edition, 1893. is the spirit which breathes through the
work. The Soul of Beauty, is it there? like so many tiles placed one on the top What matter if the hand should falter, of the other. But we must remember that or tremble ?—we can overlook it. Only if we are in the land of myth and that seait should be the result of carelessness, or cliffs in that strange region need not be want of study, it ought not to be over- like those we see on the north coast of looked. But no one in their senses could Ireland for instance, which have borne accuse Burne-Jones of either one or the other of these. There is not a day of his life in which he does not make some small picture in pencil as a study. I have seen some drawings of his, done in silver-point, of which the perfection of accuracy and precision of touch is most striking and exquisite. His pictures are never painted in a hurry, they often hang for years on the walls of his studio, looked at, thought over, but never touched unless he feels drawn towards working at them, but his art is his life, he lives in and through his pictures.
The only picture I heard that he complained of weariness in doing, was one called The Golden Stairs, and this had to be finished for exhibition, he said, “I am tired of those girls!” To my mind this one is the least interesting of his works.
The series of the Briar Rose was for many a long year on the walls of his studio unfinished, and worked at at intervals. It was only a few years ago that it was finished and exhibited ; and though some refused to admire the figure of the Sleeping Beauty or the Knight, in every other respect these pictures were the admiration and wonder of those who saw them. Although we are in fairyland, the costume of the sleeping figures, and the details of their surroundings are worked out in the carefullest way, the colouring is glowing and rich, the lustre of the jewels, the splendid tones of the drapery, and the magnificent leaves of the huge briar, with its pink and white roses, are a pure delight to the eye. One feels that there is no laborious thinking out of the story, no concoction of its different parts, but that the delineation is the outcome of a complete conception which visited the artist and impressed itself upon him.
IN KIRKCALDY, EXECUTED In speaking of the care with which he delineates nature, it may be objected by some, that in this respect he fails at times. the fret and wash of the waves for cenFor instance, in his Perseus and Andro- turies, and across whose worn face the meda, exhibited two years ago, the rock winds and waters have seamed their thouagainst which the hapless maid is stand- sand furrows. The rocks against which ing is strangely unnatural, and reminds Andromeda is standing will probably fall one of those tentative works of mediæval into the sea as soon as she is delivered painters who were feeling after a repre- from the monster whose home they are ; sentation of natural forms, but had not they belong to his reign of terror, but it arrived at a true representation of them. is a transitory one-hence their arbitrary These rocks are a piled-up heap of stones, and strange construction. But the sea at
MOSES AND THE BURNING BUSH.
FROM A WINDOW