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directly such as they were designed to benefit, they are seized upon by intermediates, and passed on in a more or less adequate, a more or less altered, a more or less masticated and digestible form, to those whom they would otherwise fail to reach. If the ideas are withheld, there can be no such communication. How great an influence is wielded by an university of conspicuous men may be determined by the effect of the “ Essays and Reviews." We want the essays and reviews of the ideal university to touch on all the burning topics with sanity and power.

Oxford sets herself to culture as a quality, to poetry combined with accuracy. Cambridge aims at mental discipline and the furnishing of the mind with rules that can be made applicable to their own uses. These are alike noble objects; they but require to be prosecuted in a wider field.

As regards University Reform; what is the quality of education

given at each university, the governing bodies are the natural sovereigns. Informed by the general opinion of the members. who in turn take into account current opinion as formed without, with its conclusions that may be of permanent value, or of only temporary vogue, weighing them by the more intimate knowledge of their own; quick to take in ideas, deliberate in acting upon them; these should themselves be the University Reformers. Their duty is to teach what they deem best and most in accordance with their wisest traditions. And if they are quick to take in ideas-which faculty is gained best by giving them out-they will never popular opinion take them by surprise. The only motto for the ideal university is vigilance; by watchfulness any valuable reform from the outside will be ever forestalled, and ideas will have time to work out their own mature forms, within as well as without.

KENINGALE COOK.

let

A STATESMAN OF AN OLD SCHOOL. (HOR. ODES iii. 5.)

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A PICTURESQUE TRANSFORMATION.
BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE.

THE studio of Mr. Edward Tre-
maine, artist, presented a striking
illustration of the romantic dogma
that genius and affluence are in-
versely proportional. Unless he
sold the picture now on his easel,
he could not pay his board-bill,
and the picture was a work of
genius I would not, indeed,
undertake to say that Mr. Tremaine
(still a very young man) was him-
self an assured and full-fledged
genius, every stroke of whose
brush must necessarily bear evi-
dence of divine afflatus. It were
safer to regard him merely as a
youth of grand possibilities, who,
under the influence of a profound
and happy mood, had produced an
immortal work. If his subsequent
productions reached or surpassed
the level of this, his claim to
artistic pre-eminence must be ad-
mitted; if not, it ought not only to
be rejected, but the artist's temerity
in making it sternly denounced.

The subject of the picture was simple three faces, two-bright and vivid-in the foreground; a third, grave and shadowy, appearing behind. Nevertheless, the design, pleasing even at the first glance, gradually satisfied the inmost heart of the beholder. touched the mainsprings of human interest, yet was there sufficient ideality in the treatment to exalt without weakening its effect upon the mind. Love was the key-note -love in its fullest phase, dimmed

It

was

by no stain of sensuality or sordidness. And, whether gazing at the young girl who, with sweet, appealing eyes, and blushing as it were at her own timidity, shrank while she clung to the vigorous youth beside her; or, again, at his noble young visage, which, bright with the fresh lustre of lofty thoughts and impulses, softened and made tender by the maiden's reliance on his strength; or, once more, at the grave eyes, thoughtful brow and eloquent lips of the sage in the background, mellowed by their expression of sympathy with the untried young lives before him :-toward whichever of these the gaze was turned it recognised, under their several guises, the various phases of the immortal passion. And Mr. Edward Tremaine, having added the finishing touch to his work, stepped back a few paces, with his head on one side, and contemplated it in silence."

"I call that good!" he remarked at length, with the candour of one who is by himself. "Hope it'll prove a true prophecy, and that the Doctor will take the hint. Take the hint! By Jove, he can't help it!"

This observation was not, perhaps, inspired by a sentiment altogether so lofty and ideal as that which pervaded the picture; but even young men of genius occasionally stoop to ordinary considerations, and their noblest

achievements may sometimes be brought about by other causes besides abstract love of art. A work, destined to elevate and delight the world hundreds of years from now, will not therefore be less useful as a provision against its author's immediate personal necessities; and Edward Tremaine, deeply as he reverenced his profession, probably rejoiced in his present success more on account of the benefit to result therefrom to his private purse and prospects, than because of any profit that unborn generations might derive from it.

At this juncture the Doctor knocked at the studio door, and was cordially-I will not say obsequiously-welcomed by the artist. He said very little, but sat down in a chair opposite the picture and studied it in silence. He was not an effusive man, though kindly in his manner, and understood to be benevolent in disposition. But brains, learning, and money combined in sufficiently large quantities, will cure any one of loquacity; and the Doctor was renowned for all three.

"You have been more than successful here, Edward," he pronounced at last, in his slow, soft tones. "The world might remember you for this."

Edward wore an air of pleased shyness. So far, all was going well. He resented the idea of a trumpery board-bill having ever given him annoyance.

"To look behind the veil Society draws over our real selves," proceeded the Doctor, folding his arms, "and to reveal to us what we are inwardly conscious of being, or of the capacity to be, is a great achievement.

You have at once caught and idealised the likenesses, and with the most difficult part of your subject-the maiden, Francesca-you have best succeeded.

Fair as she is, you have painted her soul rather than its fleshly- -er. Veil, he would have said, but remembering that he had used that word already, and disdaining to be tautological, the Doctor finished his sentence by a gesture of the eyebrows.

Edward's pleasure had by this time overtopped his shyness. His patron was taking the very course which his fondest imagination had mapped out for him-nay, he was even improving on the original plan. For the artist had long loved Fannie (or, as her guardian, the Doctor, preferred to call her, Francesca), and in painting this picture he had intended to indicate this fact to the Doctor in a delicate and æsthetic manner, and so prepare the way for a full and explicit confession. Such a confession was balancing on his tongue, just ready to jump out, when the elder gentleman spoke again, in a musing tone.

"Yes, it is confirmatory of my theory," he said. "Who regards life dispassionately alone portrays it clearly. In this idealised conjunction of maidenhood and youth -of Francesca and yourself--is embodied love's true essence; but you could never thus have pictured the passion had you yourself been subject to its influence."

Edward's countenance fell. "Confound his theory!" he ejaculated -very much below his breath. Evidently the language of paintbrush and canvas was not unambiguous enough. It would be necessary, then, to break the ice in a more direct, if less artistic fashion. He cleared his throat, put his hands in his pockets and took them out again, glanced at the Doctor; and finally, fixing his eyes on the toe of his own boot, he began, in a gently argumentative manner

"Of course, what you say must

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