his point of view, we see everything in the blackest colours. Negations, however, are never pleasing, and are seldom trustworthy. We are disposed to ask for the counsel on the other side to step forth and plead his cause, feeling certain that the uncompromising opponents of the Papacy cannot be right in every particular, however right they may be in the main. In short, M. About fills the part of a counsel for the prosecution, who holds it to be his duty to endeavour to get a verdict against the prisoner. Any one discharging that office has the power of making out a good case for himself, because it is not his business to find excuses for the charges which he makes. Unfortunately the accused, in this case, is without a defender who can devise a better answer, than denials which cannot be substantiated, and counter abuse which simply proves that the supporters of the Popedom are devoid of taste, and possessed of an inexhaustible stock of opprobious epithets. Although several years have now elapsed since the book first appeared, yet the Gazette of Rome still repeats at short intervals that M. About is a scoundrel. He was prepared for this result. In the eighth chapter he says that a friend advised him to refrain from adding one to the host of pamphlets which, since Luther's days, have been launched against the Papacy. If he wished to take a new line, let him praise and approve of everything, even the things which were admitted to be objectionable; by doing this he might rest satisfied with acquiring glory, and perhaps profit, while taking the opposite course would insure to him the eternal hate of the paternal government of the Pope and its partisans. In rejecting this advice he showed his wisdom. By writing his book on the Roman Question,' he made himself known to thousands who had never heard of his novels, and detested only by those whom he despised.

Thus, four years after appearing before the public as an author, he had incurred the enmity of all patriotic Greeks and prejudiced Roman Catholics. Common though it be for authors to complain of their enemies, yet many would have much more reason for grumbling were all the world their partisans. The most sincere literary friend soon gets tired of repeating truisms, and, when he finds himself condemned to sing in chorus, he holds his tongue. But, when the part of a friend consists in repelling aspersions as well as upholding merits, then it is filled with heartiness, because it gives occasion for display. As each new work by M. About was made the pretext for personal attacks, he had good reason to be grateful. His supporters showed themselves all the more in earnest, seeing that his enemies were so entirely in the wrong. The contending factions had a fresh opportunity for buckling on their armour and sounding to combat

when the work on Contemporary Rome appeared. This did not contain so much matter for controversy as the former work on Rome, or the one with a corresponding title on Greece. It was filled with observations made during a sojourn of six months at Rome, and the reader felt disappointed with the book on account of its fragmentary character. The short anecdotes and remarks which compose it are amusing and excellently put; but they are wearisome to read in succession. Nothing is more fatiguing than a book of jests or choice thoughts.

During this period he contributed articles to the Opinion Nationale, a newspaper which is supposed to represent the opinions of the present Prince Napoleon. In these articles political and social topics were discussed with plenty of wit and not a little discretion. Like all those who both see faults in the existing state of things in France, and have remedies to propose, he had to display much tact so as to escape punishment. Thus, when exposing an abuse and giving advice, M. About tried to soften by compliments the harshness of his words. The editor frequently struck out the unpleasant truths and let the flattery remain. Hence, the writer was regarded by many as an upholder of a Government, which, though he did not desire to subvert, yet he was most anxious to improve. When he republished these articles he made this complaint in the preface, and thereby rid himself of the imputation of being a devoted Imperialist and an enemy of amelioration. Still, the charge having been made, it was believed in the teeth of his protests, and fomented a public demonstration, on the occasion of a play by him being performed at the Odéon.

Gaëtana was the name of this drama. It was not the only piece he had written for the stage since the failure of Guillery, for a vaudeville called Risette had been represented with success at the Gymnase. Having offered his drama to the committee of the Français, he had the satisfaction of having it accepted by that critical tribunal. However, the delay in putting it upon the stage was so great that the author, growing weary, withdrew the play, and offered it to the manager of the Odéon who arranged to have it performed without unnecessary loss of time. No English theatre corresponds either to the Français or the Odéon, nor is any theatre in England filled with an audience. exclusively drawn from the educated middle class, like that which frequents the former, or so entirely composed of students, like that which fills the latter. But, though we cannot cite exact parallels to these cases, we may render the matter clear enough by stating that in France, as in England, an audience composed of persons of the same age or class is necessarily a prejudiced as well as a peculiar one. Youths devoid alike of sense and

experience, naturally approve or disapprove of sentiments and scenes for less cogent reasons than those which actuate staid persons who have lived some years in the world, and have learned some of the lessons which time alone can teach. Now, the students before whom Gaëtana was played for the first time on the second of January 1862, were concerned about one thing only, and that was to prevent a word of the play being heard. The majority considered M. About to be devotedly attached to the Imperial dynasty; all knew him to be an enemy of the temporal power of the Papacy; and the mass felt assured that in affronting him they were either showing their detestation of the Empire or their sympathy with the Pope. He was so little in favour with the Government, that the latter made no effort to suppress the tumult by irresistible arguments embodied in policemen. The piece was played almost in dumbshow for four nights; it was then withdrawn without having had a hearing.

When the drama was published, the demand was unprecedented. Five editions were soon disposed of. This popularity was partly owing to the preface which M. About affixed to it. In this preface, he justly complains of the unfairness of styling his piece bad because of the manner in which it had been received, and bewails his misfortune in having been so foolishly independent as to make enemies among all parties, owing to his having refused to flatter any one section or disguise any of his thoughts. The play is neither better nor worse than hundreds which the Parisians have welcomed with enthusiasm. The tone of it would not shock the sternest Puritan. The style would please the most fastidious critic. In short, when perusing it the reader marvels as greatly that Gaëtana should have given rise to a turbulent opposition, and have nearly cost the author his life, as he does when assured that the first representations of Victor Hugo's Hernani were regarded as equivalent to a revolution, and convulsed France during several months from one end to the other.

While the actors and the public were busied with Gaëtana, M. About was publishing three tales, of a kind entirely new. Their titles are The Man with the Broken Ear, The Attorney's Nose, and The Case of M. Guerin. The contents are as curious as the titles. In the first, a man is resuscitated after having been supposed to be dead during forty-six years; in the second, an attorney having lost his nose in a duel has a new one fashioned out of the arm of a poor man; the third is even more extraordinary, seeing that at the crisis the hero tells his son he is his mother! Now, in none of them is the author indulging in fantastical visions, like the flying people of Peter Wilkins, or

the celestial creatures of Cyrano de Bergerac. Each work is far removed from being wholly a satire, like the works of Swift, or merely inculcating a moral lesson, like that taught in Robinson Crusoe. A doubtful, yet possible hypothesis, is the basis on which each superstructure is reared. For instance, in The Man with the Broken Ear, it is argued that, as it is possible to revive the functions of certain of the lower animals, even after the lapse of many years, there is a probability of the same result being achieved in the case of the higher animals were the same methods pursued. An eel may be dried or frozen, and then restored to life by immersion in water or exposure to heat. M. About imagines a man dried in such a way that life is suspended only, and that after the application of moisture the vital functions resume their action. His reasoning is of this kind: suppose a clock be wound up, it will go till the expiration of a certain time, unless any portion of the mechanism be broken. Yet with every wheel and spring in perfect order, the motion will cease unless the excess of friction be overcome by a due quantity of oil. Take from each wheel and pivot the lubricating substance and the clock will stop; replace the oil and the wheels will move. In like manner, living beings survive so long as their parts are uninjured and are properly oiled. To them, water does what oil does to the mechanism of a clock it overcomes friction. Four-fifths of a man are fluid: withdraw this without injuring any part of his system and life is temporarily suspended; dip him in water and his functions revive. Now, there is enough of plausibility in this to prevent our treating it as sheer folly. Hence the reader, instead of laughing at the silliness of the persons in the novel who accept conclusions which are probably the author's own, is sensible of the tact and cleverness with which an appearance of verisimilitude is given to the most extravagant proceedings.

Although the greatest ingenuity is expended on the scientific part of the tale, yet the greatest skill is displayed in depicting the circumstances which attend, and the consequences which follow the restoration to life of a man who had been in a trance for forty-five years. A Colonel Fougas, whom the Russians had taken prisoner in 1816, and on whom Dr. Meiser, a German professor, had experimented when all but frozen to death, was supposed to be capable of resuscitation by the gentleman into whose possession the colonel's body had come. A portion of his ear having been broken off by accident, it was subjected to a microscopical examination, and pronounced to be the part of a man in whom the vital functions were suspended but not destroyed. It was resolved to attempt his resuscitation, and several men of science came from Paris to Fontainebleau in

order to make it. An unexpected obstacle nearly hindered the undertaking. It is of a kind which we should not have anticipated, but which is most natural in France, and it gives M. About the opportunity for showing, with the indirect sarcasm of which he is a master, the foolish self-importance of the constituted authorities. A commissary of police waited upon Léon Renault, who had brought the colonel's body from Germany, and asked for a private interview. As soon as they were alone, the public functionary said :—

"Sir, I am conscious of the respect due to a man of your character and in your position, and I hope you will be so good as not to take amiss a course of procedure which a sentiment of duty causes me to follow." Léon opened his eyes widely while waiting for the continuation of this harangue.

""You must know, sir," the functionary continued, "that I allude to the Burial Act. Its terms are precise, and provide for no exceptions. The authorities might close their eyes, but the noise created, moreover the rank of the deceased, putting aside the religious questions, compels them to act-in concert with you, of Course'Léon was more and more puzzled. In the end, it was explained to him, in red-tape style, that he must order the body of Colonel Fougas to be interred in the churchyard of the town.

666

But," replied he, "if you have been told about Colonel Fougas, you must also have learnt that we do not consider him to be dead."

"Sir," answered the functionary with a meaning smile, "opinions are free. But the coroner,' who has had the pleasure of seeing the deceased, has reported to us that the interment must take place at

once.

"Nevertheless, sir, if Colonel Fougas be dead, we hope to restore him to life again."

"We have heard that already, sir, but, for my part, I hesitate to believe it."

"You will believe when you shall have seen it, and, sir, I trust you will not have long to wait."

"But then, sir, have the formalities been gone through ?"

"With whom?"

"I know not, sir, but I presume that, prior to undertaking such a task, you have obtained permission."

From whom?"

"However, sir, you admit that the resurrection of a man is an extraordinary event. As for me, this is the first time I have heard it mooted. Now, the duty of a police rightly organized, is to hinder any extraordinary thing from taking place in the country."

""Look here, sir, if I told you that the man is not dead, that I have a well-grounded hope of placing him on his legs before three days are 1 There are no coroners in France, neither are there 'doctors for the dead' in England. Though the equivalent is not exact, yet it makes the meaning sufficiently clear to use coroner' as the translation of médecin des morts.

VOL. XLIV.NO. LXXXVIII.

2 E