Chapter X: Part 10

The methods of determining the elementary bodies in organic compounds have been developed by Dumas, Liebig, Will, Varrentrap, and Kjeldahl, to the last of whom chemical analysis owes a debt of gratitude for the invention of a speedy and accurate method of determining nitrogen.

Not much less is the debt due to Gooch for the invention of the perforated platinum crucible, carrying an asbestos felt for securing precipitates by filtration, in a form suitable to ignition without further preparation.

Through the classic researches of Arago (1786–1853) and Biot (1774–1862), polarized light has been made a most valuable adjunct to chemical research, serving as it does to measure the quantity of various alkaloids, essential oils, and sugars.

Based on these researches of Biot and Arago, Ventzke, Soleil, Scheibler, Duboscq, Landolt, and Lippich have constructed apparatus, which have made an exact science of optical saccharimetry. Optical analysis is not without its relation to theoretical chemistry, for by it has been proved the assumption that optically active bodies contain an asymmetrical carbon atom,—that is, one which combines with four different atoms or radicles.

Electricity has become also one of the most useful factors in chemical analysis. Many metals are easily deposited by electrolytic action, and their separation and determination rendered easy and certain.

Chemical analysis has not only given us accurate knowledge of the constituents of matter, but by revealing the deportment of molecules and groups of molecules in inorganic and organic compounds, has opened up a path for organic and synthetic chemistry which otherwise must have remained forever closed.

The discovery and development of spectrum analysis is one of the great achievements of the nineteenth century in chemical science.

Wollaston, in 1802, first noticed that the spectrum of the sun’s light, when greatly magnified, was not composed of colors gradually changing from one to the other, but that the continuity of the colors was interrupted by dark bands. Fraunhofer, in 1814, had made a map of the solar spectrum, showing 576 of these dark lines. Fraunhofer was entirely ignorant of the cause of these dark lines, but when he had found them, not only in the light from the sun, but also from the moon and the fixed stars, he properly concluded that they were due to something entirely independent of the earth.

It remained for Bunsen and Kirchhoff, in 1860, to point out the fact that these dark lines were characteristic of certain chemical elements existing in the sun and its photosphere, and this fact is the foundation of spectrum analysis. The broad black band in the sun’s spectrum, called by Fraunhofer D, corresponded exactly in position and in width with the yellow band produced by a flame containing incandescent sodium. There was no doubt whatever, therefore, that the two phenomena were due to the same cause; but why in the one case should the band be black and in the other yellow? This question was answered by the discovery of the fact that a ray of light colored by incandescent sodium, passing through a luminous atmosphere of the same metal, would lose by absorption all of its yellow color, and would display a black band where before the yellow color existed.

Based upon this observation, the development of spectrum analysis went forward with amazing rapidity. The hundreds of lines in the sun’s spectrum were found to occupy exactly the position of luminous lines in the spectra of various metals, and thus it was possible for the chemist to extend his investigations beyond the limits of the earth, and distinguish the chemical elements in the sun and in the fixed stars billions of miles farther away from us than the sun itself. Celestial chemistry has thus become a fixed and definite science.

But the value of spectral examinations has extended still farther. Many luminous lines were observed in the spectrum which were not found in the spectra of any known element. The inference then logically arose that there were elements yet undiscovered to which these lines were due. From this starting point investigations proceeded which have led to the discovery of a large number of elementary bodies. Among the important elements that have been discovered by means of spectrum analysis may be mentioned: cæsium, rubidium, thallium, indium, gallium, ytterbium, and scandium.

Spectrum analysis is also extremely useful in proving the verity of supposed new elements; for if a supposed new element should be found to give a series of spectral lines coincident with those already known, it would be a positive proof of the fact that the supposed new element was but a mixture of bodies already known to exist.

V. SYNTHETICAL CHEMISTRY.

This branch of chemical science has for its object the building up of the more complex from the simpler forms of matter. In the early part of the century, Chevreul and Wöhler laid the foundation of the science by the synthesis of fatty-like bodies and urea. Berthellot and Friedel (1832–) in France, and Williamson and Frankland in England, added much to our knowledge. Kolbe, in Germany, made salicylic acid so abundantly as to banish the natural article from the market. The synthesis of coloring matters resembling indigo was also a great blow to that industry. From the products of the distillation of coal, chemists were able to make thousands of valuable bodies of the greatest utility. Many medicinal substances and nearly all the common dyes trace their origin to coal.

Fischer (b. 1852), in Germany, has contributed his remarkable results in the synthesis of sugar to the last years of the century. Lillienfeld, in Austria, has gone still further, and has built up a body which has many of the properties of protein, one of the most highly organized of organic substances.

In the inorganic world synthesis is not so difficult a matter as the vast number of compounds attest. By means of the electric furnace, Moissan, in France, has succeeded in uniting carbon with many of the metallic elements, and thus opened the path for new achievements in passing directly from inorganic to organic compounds.

The progress of chemical synthesis has already blotted out the old distinction between inorganic and organic chemistry, and we can no longer say of organic bodies that they are the products of living cells. Organic bodies are those which contain a carbon or other elementary skeleton, to which are attached the elements or groups of elements forming the complete body.

The claim which has been made that synthetical chemistry would in the near future produce the food of man, and thus relegate agriculture to the domain of the useless or forgotten arts, is, however, wholly without scientific foundation. The function of the farmer will not be usurped by the chemist. The future will see the most important contributions to chemistry coming from the field of organic chemistry, but it will also see the farmer following in the furrow, and man depending for his food on the fields of waving grain.

VI. METALLURGICAL CHEMISTRY.

This is the oldest branch of chemical science, and naturally the one which was furthest advanced at the beginning of the century. Nevertheless, the advances which the past one hundred years have seen in this science are most surprising. Gold and silver are now secured from ores so poor as to have rendered them of no value a hundred years ago. The Bessemer process of steel making (1856) has revolutionized the world, and made possible railroads and steamships. The basic Bessemer process of making steel from pig-iron rich in phosphorus, has opened up rich mines of iron ore hitherto valueless. The basic phosphatic slag, resulting from this process, is of the highest value in the fields, and has brought agriculture and metallurgy into intimate relationship. The electric furnace has made aluminium almost as cheap as iron, bulk for bulk, and electric welding bids fair to take the place of the old process, with the cheapening of metals.

VII. AGRICULTURAL CHEMISTRY.

Sir Humphry Davy, in the beginning of the century, delivered a course of lectures on the relations of chemistry to agriculture, and these were published in book form. In France, important contributions were made to agricultural chemical science by Vauquelin, Chevreul (1786–1889), and Boussingault (1802–1887), who made important researches before the middle of the century. The most important work in agricultural chemistry, however, was done by Liebig. His achievements so overshadowed those of his predecessors that he is generally regarded, although improperly, as the father of that branch of the science.

The early achievements of these workers showed the relatively small portions of the crops that were derived from the soil. The study of the ash constituents of plants laid the foundation of rational fertilizing, and the utilization of the stores of plant food preserved in great natural deposits.

Beginning with the middle of the century, the attention of agronomists was called to the desirability of utilizing the deposits of guano, found in the islands along the west coast of South America; of the deposits of phosphate rock existing in many localities; and later, of the potash salts, discovered near Stassfurt, which completed the trio of available natural foods most useful to plants.

The establishment of an agricultural experiment station by Sir John Lawes at Rothamstead (1834), before the middle of the century, set an example which has been followed by the establishment of experiment stations in all the civilized countries of the world.

Under the great stimulus given to agricultural research by these stations, progress during the latter half of the century has been very rapid. There now exist in Europe nearly one hundred stations devoted to agricultural research, and in this country the number is half as great.

Conspicuous achievements, marking the closing years of the century, have been the discovery of the methods whereby organic nitrogen is rendered suitable for plant food, and atmospheric nitrogen fixed and rendered available by leguminous plants. In the first instance, it has been established that organic nitrogen in the soil can only be utilized by plants after it has been oxidized by bacterial action. In the case of leguminous plants, nitrogen is rendered available for nutrition by means of bacteria inhabiting nodules in the roots of the legumes. These two great discoveries have proved of incalculable benefit to practical agriculture. Chemical science in its relations to agriculture has shown that the fertility of the soil may be conserved and increased, while the magnitude of the crops harvested is sustained or augmented. Thus, no matter how rapid may be the increase of population, agricultural chemistry will provide abundant food.

VIII. GRAPHIC CHEMISTRY.

The honor of discovering that prints could be made by the action of light on certain salts, such as those of silver, belongs to Daguerre, in 1839.

The fundamental principle of graphic chemistry is that metallic salts, sensitive to the light, when in contact with organic matter, suffer a complete or partial reduction and are rendered insoluble. The intensity of the reduction is measured exactly by the intensity of the light. When light is reflected from any object capable of producing different degrees of intensity, as from the hair and face of a man, the reduction of the metal is greatest by the light from that portion of the physiognomy which gives the greatest reflection. Thus, when the unreduced metallic salt is washed out, a permanent record, the negative, of the object is left.

It is a long step from the first daguerreotype to the modern photograph, but the principle of the process has remained unchanged.

Photographs in natural colors have of late years been obtained. One method is by interposing a film of metallic mercury behind the sensitive plate which must be transparent. The reflected rays of light, having different wave lengths, precipitate the metal in superimposed films, corresponding to the wave or half-wave length. When a negative thus formed is seen by reflected light, the emergent rays from the superimposed films acting as mirrors are transformed into the original colors of the photographed object.

The various methods of printing by heliotypes, photolithographs, photogravures, etc., are illustrations of the application of graphic chemistry to the arts.

IX. DIDACTIC CHEMISTRY.

The lectures of Davy and Faraday in England, of Wöhler and Liebig in Germany, of Chevreul and Dumas in France, and of Silliman (1779–1864) in this country, made the study of chemistry attractive and easy during the early part of the century.

It was noticed, however, that the students who finished these courses, while well versed in the principles of the science, were not able to apply them in practice. Towards the middle of the century, therefore, a radical change in the system of instruction was inaugurated. The student was put to work and taught to question nature for himself. The universities of France and Germany were equipped with working desks where students of chemistry put into practice at once the principles of the science which they heard elucidated in the lecture room. Cooke, at Harvard, was the chief apostle of the laboratory method in this country, and this method of instruction has now spread, until even the high and grammar schools have their chemical laboratories.

In our universities, students may now begin their chemical studies associated with laboratory practice in the first year of their course, and continue it to the end. Graduates of such courses are not only grounded in the theories of chemistry, but are thoroughly familiar with its practice. Under this system, coupled with the demand for chemical services in every branch of industry, the number of trained chemists has speedily increased. At this time (1899) there are more than four thousand trained chemists in the United States.

X. CHEMISTRY OF FERMENTATION.

Our knowledge of fermentation and bacterial action is practically all comprised in the achievements of the nineteenth century. Prior to this time it was known that fermentation took place, but its causes and character were wholly mysterious. The great work of Pasteur (1859) resulted in the fact that fermentations were chiefly caused by the activity of living cells, which have the capacity of reproduction. The most common form of fermentation is that whereby sugar is converted into alcohol and carbon dioxide. The name of the organism that produces this change is _saccharomyces cerevisiae_.

Another class of fermentation is seen in the process of digestion. This species of fermentation is typified by the action of sprouted barley on starch, whereby the starch is converted into sugar. The active principle of the saliva, ptyalin, has the same property, and when starchy bodies are masticated, a part, at least, of the starch which they contain is converted into sugar. The active principle of malt is known as diastase, and this, as well as ptyalin, belongs to a class of ferments which are incapable of reproduction.

All the decompositions of organic matter, such as the decay of meats and vegetables, are now known to be forms of fermentation, due to the action of certain organisms known by the group name of bacteria. This discovery led naturally to the process of preserving organic compounds by sterilization. The principles on which this process depends are very simple. If an organic body, such as a fruit or vegetable, be subjected for some time to a high temperature,—that of boiling water will usually suffice,—the fermentation germs which it contains will be destroyed. If then it be sealed in such a way, either hermetically or with a plug of sterilized cotton, so that no living germ can reach it, decomposition cannot take place. Certain chemicals, such for instance as salicylic acid and formaldehyde, have the property of paralyzing or suspending germ action, and hence organic bodies treated with these substances may also be protected against decomposition.

The activity of fermentation is made use of in the technical arts. Bread is made light by fermentation, and wine, beer, and cider are made by the fermentation of fruits and grains. Alcohol is produced by the fermentation of grains and potatoes, their starch having previously been converted into sugar by malt.

Buchner has lately shown that all fermentation is of one kind, namely, that due to ferments of the diastase type. The fermentation produced by yeast, for instance, is not due, according to his observations, to the living cells, but to the products of their activity. By destroying yeast cells, by grinding and high pressure, and using their contents, he has secured a vigorous fermentation similar in every respect to that caused by the cells themselves.

XI. ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY.

The electric furnace, which affords a higher heat than chemists had been able to secure, has been the promoter of great advances in inorganic chemistry. Moissan (b. 1852), a French chemist, has been the most successful in applying the heat of the electric furnace to analytic and synthetic studies. One of the practical results which has come from these studies has been the virtual bridging over of the chasm which has been supposed to exist between organic and inorganic compounds. Under the influence of the heat of the electric furnace, carbon, which is the keystone of organic compounds, has been made to combine directly with the metals, forming a series of bodies known as metallic carbides. The carbide of calcium, under the action of water, yields a gas known as acetylene, which by a series of reactions can be converted into alcohol. Thus alcohol, which only a short time ago was supposed to be solely the product of organic life, is shown also to result from a simple inorganic reaction such as has been shown above.

The importance of electrolysis in metallurgical and analytical chemistry has already been noticed. So rapid has been the progress along these lines that the terms metallurgical chemistry and electro-chemistry are in some respects almost synonymous.

Electricity has also been employed in many of the chemical arts; _e. g._, in the promotion of crystallization and purification of organic solutions as practiced in the sugar industry.

Though belonging rather to analytical than to electro-chemistry, one may here mention the wonders of that discovery which belongs to the close of the nineteenth century, and which is known as “liquid air.” Until 1877 air—oxygen and nitrogen—was regarded as a permanent gas. Oxygen liquefies at 300° below zero and nitrogen at 320°. When air is cooled to those degrees it assumes a misty form and falls like raindrops to the bottom of the vessel. It then gives off vapor, like boiling water. If poured out on a conductor, as iron or ice, it assumes the gaseous state so rapidly as to amount to an explosion. The many experiments with it are simply wonderful, and the practical claims for it are without end. Already it runs an engine and motor vehicles. It is claimed that it will complete the problem of aerial navigation; that it is the coming power in gunnery and blasting; that it affords the ideal sanitation; that in surgery it offers the most perfect chemical cauterization.

CONCLUSION.

There is no branch of science that holds such an intimate relation to the progress and welfare of man as chemistry. First of all, it is chiefly instrumental in providing him with food and clothing, as has been shown in the paragraph on agricultural chemistry. In the second place it has extended his domain over matter and, in connection with physics, has established the identity of the composition of the universe with that of the earth. The universe has thus been shown to be of a single origin and of uniform properties. By understanding the constitution of matter, with which he is surrounded, man is able to utilize to the best advantage the material at his disposal. Thus invention is promoted and the application of chemical knowledge in the arts extended.

THE CENTURY’S MUSIC AND DRAMA

BY RITER FITZGERALD, A.M.,

_Dramatic Critic “City Item,” Philadelphia_.

I. MUSIC.

Music finds its highest artistic development in the happy combinations which go to make up the opera. These combinations passed through various historic stages, and ripened into noble maturity by the end of the eighteenth century, under the guiding genius of the Handels, Mozarts, and Glucks of the times. Their legacy passed, in the nineteenth century, to a host of worthy successors, among whom stands, as a central figure, Verdi, the great Italian operatic composer; while Wagner, of Germany, has striven with herculean might to revolutionize the lyrical drama by polemical writing, by twofold authorship of words and notes, and by a new application of principles gathered from antecedent reformers. His efforts produced a commotion in the art world which might be compared to that excited by the rivalry between Buonocini and Handel in London, or Piccini and Gluck in Paris, but for the fact that in each of these instances the contention was between one composer and another, whereas in the case of Wagner it was the opposition of one composer to all others in the world, save the few who, believing in the man, his teachings, and his wonderful powers of application, undertook propagandism as a duty, and endeavored to make proselytes to their faith. He did not live to see the day when his efforts could be called completely successful, and his death in 1883 left judgment quite wide open as to his theoretical and practical merits. The nineteenth century closes with the question still on as to the permanence or evanescence of his many unique, ponderous, and revolutionizing productions.

Verdi, who still lives, surpasses all the composers of his time in the beauty of his melodies and the intensity of his dramatic power.

Rossini, whose “Guillaume Tell,” which was produced in Paris in 1829, was his masterpiece, ruled the operatic world before Verdi, until he died in Paris in 1868.

Meyerbeer, whose principal operas are “Les Huguenots,” “Le Prophète,” and “L’Africaine” (the latter produced in Paris in 1865, the year after its composer’s death), was regarded as a remarkable composer, whose knowledge of effect was unsurpassed, and whose fine intelligence and musical knowledge almost made the world forgive him for frequent lack of inspiration.

Halévy, whose only lasting success was “La Juive,” composed other operas, such as “Charles VI.,” “La Reine de Chypre,” “L’Eclair,” and “Les Mousquetaires de la Reine,” that achieved a certain amount of success in France, which success was interrupted by Halévy’s death at Nice in 1862.

Gounod, in 1859, made his most remarkable success with his greatest opera, “Faust,” which, after the subject had been treated by Spohr, Lindpainter, Schumann, Berlioz, and other distinguished composers, has remained the only completely successful opera on the subject, although Boito’s “Mefistofile” (another version of the subject) achieved a marked success in Italy in 1868, and placed Boito among the remarkable composers of the day. As for Gounod, his other operas never equaled his “Faust.” Next in merit comes “Roméo et Juliette” (produced in Paris in 1867) and then his “Mireille,” which appeared in 1864, and “Philémon et Baucis,” an exquisite little comic opera produced in 1860. His last opera, “Le Tribut de Zamora,” was given at the Grand Opera, Paris, in 1881, and failed.

Donizetti, who died in Bergamo in 1848, was for many years one of the most popular operatic composers. He possessed undoubted ability, but wrote carelessly, as the Italians did in that day. But his operas contain much that is beautiful, and often show fine dramatic power. His “Lucia” contains inspired pages, while other portions are inexcusably commonplace. The same remark applies to his “Lucrezia Borgia,” “La Favorita,” and “Maria di Rohan;” while in his comic operas, such as “Don Pasquale” (which was composed in three weeks), his “L’Elisire d’Amore” and “La Fille du Régiment,” Donizetti appears to better advantage. They are melodious and very agreeably written. His fertility may be imagined when you are told that he composed over sixty operas during his career, as well as other compositions.

Bellini, whose career was a short one, as he was born in 1802 and died in 1835, was badly trained and could not be called a well-schooled musician, being rather a musician by instinct. But he possessed remarkable ability, and, perceiving that the persistently florid style of Rossini (which all the composers of that time blindly imitated) was approaching an end, treated his melodies with a simplicity and directness that at once attracted attention and met with approval.

Bellini’s knowledge of instrumentation was childish, but his intimacy with Rubini, the famous tenor, aided him in achieving an admirable treatment of the voice. His operas were very sweet and melodious. The two operas by which he will be remembered are “La Sonnambula” and “Norma,” the latter being, with all its faults, a great opera.

Another talented and prolific operatic composer was Mercadante, whose “Il Giuramento” (produced in 1837) achieved considerable popularity. But Mercadante’s successes were generally confined to Italy. He composed sixty operas, and died in 1870 in Naples.

Ponchielli, who was born in 1834 and died in 1886, will be principally remembered by his remarkably beautiful opera, “La Gioconda” (produced in 1876), which, together with a re-written version of his first opera, “I Promessi Sposi,” gave him great popularity in Italy and spread his reputation to other countries.

As for Italy’s young composers that profess to represent the modern Italian school of opera, they are led by Puccini, whose “Manon Lescaut” and “La Bohême” are melodious and full of merit.

Mascagni and Leoncavallo, whose “Cavalleria Rusticana” and “I Pagliacci” achieved popularity, have not realized expectations. Nor has Giordano, whose “Andrea Chenier” was well received in Italy.

Bizet, whose “Carmen” is one of the most remarkable of modern operas, died in Paris in 1875. “Carmen” has remained in the repertoire. His other opera, “Les Pécheurs de Perles,” only achieved a moderate success.

One of France’s greatest musicians, Hector Berlioz, was born in 1803 and died in 1869. His operas, “Les Troyens,” “Benvenuto Cellini,” his “Damnation de Faust,” his “Roméo et Juliette” symphony, are all great and afforded Wagner a model that he imitated persistently.

In 1871 France lost one of its most talented operatic composers, Auber, whose “Masaniello” and “Fra Diavolo” are two of the most popular operas ever written by a Frenchman. Auber composed comic operas charmingly, and his “Domino Noir,” “Diamants de la Couronne,” “Haydée,” and other works of a similar character, entertained the French people for many years. Auber’s death has left a vacancy that has not been filled.

The modern French composers cannot be called great. Saint-Saens, whose most successful work is “Samson et Dalila” (which is more of an oratorio than an opera, and which was produced in 1877), has composed other operas, such as “Henri VIII.,” “Ascanio,” et cetera, which lack originality and inspiration.

Massenet has composed “Le Roi de Lahore,” “Hérodiade,” “Manon,” “Werther,” et cetera, that have had passing successes.

Both Saint-Saens and Massenet have attempted to follow Wagner in their sonorous orchestration; but their works lack distinction. The French composers of to-day have been demoralized by Wagner’s affectations.

The death of Ambroise Thomas, in 1895, caused France the loss of one of her most successful and accomplished operatic composers, whose “Mignon” will be long admired as a very charming opera comique, while his “Hamlet,” though containing portions that are ably written, has never attained outside France any remarkable success.

Reyer, whose “Sigurd” was produced in 1884 with considerable success, is a follower of Meyerbeer. His “Salammbo” was produced in 1890, but did not attract the attention expected outside of France.

German opera of the latter part of the century has been so demoralized by the influence of Wagner that the German composers have become little more than imitators of his pronounced mannerisms.

Weber’s “Der Freischütz” remains the most popular of German operas, just as Verdi’s “Il Trovatore” is the most popular of Italian operas.

Spohr, Lindpainter, and many other German composers of ability have been laid on the shelf.

Marshner, who died in Hanover in 1861, showed in his “Hans Heiling” that he was a follower of Weber, as well as in his “Templar and Jewess.”

Cornelius, who died in Mainz in 1874, made his principal success with his “Barber of Bagdad,” a comic opera in which the manner of Wagner was imitated. In 1864 “The Cid” was produced in Weimar, but it was found depressingly heavy and labored.

Goldmark, a follower of Meyerbeer, made a success in 1875 with his “Queen of Saba” that was not equaled by his “Merlin,” produced in 1886, or his “Prisoner of War,” produced in 1899.

To return to the great leader of opera—Verdi—one may say of him that his operas are divided into three periods. The first included the works written in the old Neapolitan style as he had found it. To this class belong “Nabucco,” “Attila,” et cetera. To the second period, which shows remarkable dramatic color and beautiful melody, belong “Rigoletto,” “Ernani,” and “Ballo in Maschera” (in which Verdi began to pay attention to his instrumentation). To the third period belongs “Aïda,” which is his most characteristic and remarkable opera, in which the melody is wonderfully fresh and beautiful, combined with remarkable science.

“Otello” is also a great work, written at a time of life when most composers retire, and broadly dramatic in its treatment of the situations, illuminated by rich and expressive instrumentation.

As for “Falstaff,” the latest opera that Verdi has written, and probably the last he will write, it is the greatest modern comic opera, just as Mozart’s “Nozze di Figaro” is the greatest comic opera of the past. It convinces the world that Verdi’s genius is inexhaustible.

Next to Verdi comes Wagner, the anarchist of music, who began in “Rienzi” and “The Flying Dutchman” by imitating the Italian forms of melody. In “Tannhäuser,” portions are very beautiful and melodious; in “Lohengrin,” portions are fine; but Wagner’s idea of effect was bad and he never knew when to stop, so that many of the scenes are interminable. This fault increased as Wagner composed the “Nibelungen” series for the crazy king of Bavaria. Melody vanished, the singers became secondary to the orchestra, which was persistently noisy. Wagner’s effort was to create a new school of opera, in which everything should be minutely descriptive. He went too far and opened the question of failure. In opera the voices claim the first place, and the orchestra is an accompaniment, so that Wagner’s method was radically wrong.

Independent of this, he attempted to infuse life into the “Nibelungen” series, whereas he adopted a tangled and childish fairy-story that was more absurd than impressive. The later Wagner operas, which the composer calls “music dramas,” are tiresome and monotonous to such a degree that, with all the remarkable talent of Wagner, they may never become popular, and may be eventually laid on the shelf, to be regarded in the future as musical curios.

The musicians of the United States are steadily developing, and for so young a country we have a large number of composers of first-class ability, such as Macdowell, Foote, Lang, Chadwick, Gilchrist, and many others who have produced important compositions.

In opera the American composers have done nothing, for the reason that there are no opportunities for the production of such works. If there were, we should soon have many operatic composers, and should speedily take high rank in the lyric drama.

II. DRAMA.

The theatre of the latter part of the century shows a remarkable advance, in certain respects, over the theatre of the past, which consisted of a “star,” an inferior company, poor scenery and appointments, et cetera; whereas to-day there are many more really good actors and actresses, the theatres are far more comfortable and artistic, the scenery, costumes and details are beautiful and correct.

We have no Mrs. Siddons, no Kemble, no Rachel, no Talma; but we are confident that the actors and actresses of to-day are like the theatre of to-day,—they have more finish, and the results, while they may not rise to the plane of the school of Shakespeare, are nearer nature than they have ever been.

The school of declamation, which belonged to the plays of the past, is the severest loss the stage of to-day has felt. The actors and actresses fail in elocution. They do not know where to put their emphasis. They seem lost when they appear in costume, and Shakespeare to-day has no distinguished exponents.

The English-speaking stage of the century has been adorned by such eloquent interpreters and powerful tragedians as Edwin Forrest, Charlotte Cushman, Edwin Booth, and Henry Irving. But this illustrious roll has been almost extinguished by death; and, especially if applied to America, the question may well be asked, where is the actor or actress who can play Hamlet, or Macbeth, or King Lear, or Shylock as we were wont to see them rendered by those masters of the dramatic art, or as they should be rendered? Salvini and Rossi have both passed away. Irving verges on retiracy. Of the great dramatic actresses left to the closing of the century, Mme. Sarah Bernhardt stands preëminent. The day of the imposing declamatory drama seems to have lost its lustre at the sunset of the century.

But the modern dramas and comedies are acted, even in the smaller parts, with admirable intelligence and effect, and we may add that the vice that disgraced the stage of the past is by no means so visible in the theatre of the present.

The coarseness that clung so long to the theatre is gradually disappearing, and the theatre-goers of to-day have discovered that the theatre, which was created to entertain the world, can do so without recourse to vulgarity.

The theatres of the United States are the handsomest and most convenient in the world. This Mme. Sarah Bernhardt acknowledged the other day, while criticising the theatres of Paris, which lack many conveniences.

Up to within twenty-five years of the close of the century, plays written by American authors were rare. Managers had to rely upon those composed in Europe. But at present the United States possesses many able and successful playwrights, just as it does its artists in all departments. There has not been a time during the century when the personal character of actors and actresses has escaped discussion, and sometimes violent criticism, by those prejudiced against the theatre. This does not seem to have lessened the estimation in which dramatic art is held, nor to have seriously diminished in number the legion who find in the drama their most pleasurable recreation and keenest intellectual delight. In answer to challenges of the morality of the stage, Bronson Howard has fittingly said: “I have never yet seen anybody who wanted a bad picture just because it was painted by a good man. It is society that corrupts the stage, not the stage that corrupts society.”

THE CENTURY’S LITERATURE

BY JAMES P. BOYD, A.M., L.B.

In contrasting the world’s nineteenth century literature with that of the eighteenth, one is impressed with the many remarkable differences. But by no means all of such differences are to the discredit of the older literature. As instances, the prose literature of the nineteenth century may not surpass that of the eighteenth in elegance and accuracy of expression, though its progress has been very marked in the diversity of its applications to mental needs; and the poetical literature of the nineteenth century may not excel that of the eighteenth in beauty and virility, though it has advanced in loftiness of theme and tenderness of mode. And so, when literature is divided into its many minor branches, as history, philosophy, the sciences, etc., various features of the old compare favorably with the new.

It is in its general tone and universal aptitude that the literature of the nineteenth century stands out preëminent. The wonderful intellectual activity of the century has been, as it were, compelled to go forth along literary lines quite parallel with those that distinguish other fields of activity. This may have had a tendency in some instances to rob the century’s literature of some of the sweetly imaginative elements, and to harden it in some of its essential forms, but the process was necessary to secure for it just that quality which would best meet a progressive demand. As the drift of human energy was toward the practical, so the dominant literary thought took on the form of direct and exact expression. There was less and less room for the indulgence of literary foible or speculative whimsicality. Even where elegance of style met with occasional sacrifice, it was more than compensated by that general rise in literary tone which has characterized the century. Literature could not be untruthful amid active inquiry and scientific progress. It must reflect, more accurately than ever before, its birth inspirations and its legitimate uses. It must keep even pace with the demands for it. A world crying for intellectual bread could not be put off with an antiquated stone.

Without closer analysis, the above is true of the literature of all reading and writing peoples who have kept touch with the century’s progress. But it is especially true in the literature of English speaking peoples. History has, in accordance with a growing spirit of research, become more truthful, philosophy more expressive, and science more exact. The outcrop of books shows the yearnings of the century, not only as to their number but as to theme and treatment. Authors have multiplied as during no other world’s era, and the proportion of those who have attained permanent distinction was never larger.

“German literature,” says Professor Ford, in “Self Culture” for February, 1899, “has had its measure of ups and downs, but its first age was its golden age. From the beginning of the century to the present day is a far cry in German letters. Romanticism, idealism, realism—the Fatherland has lived through them all. And for what? In a land of scholars no great philosopher; among hosts of verse-makers no great poet; among innumerable story-writers, not one who has become known over a continent.

“Still these last years in Germany have not been without some good work done, though often achieved under the spur of wrong ideals and improper motives. From the days of ’48, when Young Germany felt for the first time the seductive charm of revolutionism, a new feeling has possessed German literature—a feeling that the past is past and out of date, potent once but potent no longer, and that the new age of man demands new principles, new ideals, a new faith. And so the modern literature, particularly so since 1870, has been marked by iconoclasm and startling innovation; it has discarded sentiment and line writing, and made a plea for scientific methods, with the privilege of exhibiting exact, scientific results. Crimes, disease, and grinning skeletons have been dragged forth to the public gaze, for art is no longer art that portrays the ideal and not the true. Such, in short, is the creed by which the realistic or naturalistic school has thought to overthrow the old, conventional, and frivolous, to foster the spirit of the new nationality, and prepare a balm for the wounds of the poor.

“Two men stand to-day as leaders of this new movement,—Hermann Sudermann and Gerhardt Hauptmann,—the most commanding figures in contemporaneous German literature.”

During the nineteenth century the United States took a high and firm place in the domain of literature, and, it may be said, has evolved a literature that in scope and style is peculiar to her institutions and environment. Her array of authors, both in number and reputation, compares favorably with that of countries boasting of a thousand years of literary domination, and her literature is as diversified and practical as her activities. Among the many illustrious historians of the century she numbers her Bancroft, her Hildreth, her Prescott, her Motley, worthy counterparts of England’s Lingard, Hallam, Macaulay, Buckle, and Kinglake. Among her poets are Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant, Lowell, Halleck, fit companions of Tennyson, Browning, Wordsworth, Scott, Swinburne. Among her novelists are Cooper, Hawthorne, Stowe, worthy congeners of Dickens, Thackeray, and Eliot. And so, the comparison holds in travel, philosophy, theology, law, and science.

If in dramatic literature the United States has, during the century, produced few authors of permanent reputation, and perhaps none to be compared with Knowles, Boucicault, Taylor, and Robertson, of the Old World, nevertheless it cannot be said of these that their plays have had more than a stage value. The drama of the century in following the demand for artistic and commercial results has sustained only in part the reputation of its literature. But in lieu of this partial decadence, there have sprung up new branches of literature which are, in a measure, compensatory. Among these are the critical literature of arts and design, the literature of philology, or of language, and the literature of political and social science. To these must be added two other kinds or classes of literature which, if not peculiar to the century, have yet found in it their most surprising evolution, greatest glory, and widest influence. These are the literature of the newspaper and magazine, as distinguished from that of the book.

But before making further mention of these, let us read somewhat of New World literature as viewed from a critical English standpoint. Says the critic, “English critics are apt to bear down on the writers and thinkers of the New World with a sort of aristocratic hauteur; they are perpetually reminding them of their immaturity and their disregard of the golden mean. Americans, on the other hand, are hard to please. Ordinary men among them are as sensitive to foreign censure as the _irritable genius_ of other lands. Mr. Emerson is permitted to impress home truths on his countrymen, as ‘Your American eagle is very well; but beware of the American peacock.’ Such remarks are not permitted to Englishmen. If they point to any flaws in transatlantic manners or ways of thinking with an effort after politeness, it is ‘the good-natured cynicism of well-to-do age;’ if they commend transatlantic institutions or achievements, it is, according to Mr. Lowell, ‘with that pleasant European air of self-compliment in condescending to be pleased by American merit which we find so conciliating.’

“Now that the United States have reached their full majority, it is time that England should cease to assume the attitude of guardian, and time that they should be on the alert to resent the assumption. Foremost among the more attractive features of transatlantic [American] literature is its _freshness_. The authority which is the guide of old nations constantly threatens to become tyrannical; they wear their traditions like a chain; and, in canonization of laws of taste, the creative laws are depressed. Even in England we write under fixed conditions; with the fear of critics before our eyes, we are all bound to cast our ideas into similar moulds, and the name of ‘free thinker’ has grown to a term of reproach. Bunyan’s ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ is perhaps the last English book written without a thought of being reviewed. There is a gain in the habit of self-restraint fostered by this state of things; but there is a loss in the consequent lack of spontaneity; and we may learn something from a literature that is ever ready for adventures. In America the love of uniformity gives place to impetuous impulses; the most extreme sentiments are made audible, the most noxious ‘have their day and cease to be;’ and the truth being left to vindicate itself, the overthrow of error, though more gradual, may at last prove more complete. A New England poet can write with confidence of his country as the land

“‘Where no one suffers loss or bleeds
For thoughts that men calls heresies.’

“Another feature of American literature is _comprehensiveness_. What it has lost in depth it has gained in breadth. Addressing a vast audience, it appeals to universal sympathies. In the Northern States, where comparatively few have leisure to write well, almost every man, woman, and child can read, and does read. Books are to be found in every log-hut, and public questions are discussed by every scavenger. During the Civil War, when the Lowell factory-girls were writing verses, the ‘Biglow Papers’ were being recited in every smithy. The consequence is, that, setting aside the newspapers, there is little that is sectional in the popular religion or literature; it exalts and despises no class, and almost wholly ignores the lines that in other countries divide the upper ten thousand and the lower ten million. Where manners make men, the people are proud of their peerage, but they blush for their boors. In the New World there are no ‘Grand Seigniors’ and no human vegetables; and if there are fewer giants, there are also fewer manikins. American poets recognize no essential distinction between the ‘village blacksmith’ and the ‘caste of Vere de Vere.’ Burns speaks for the one; Byron and Tennyson for the other; Longfellow, to the extent of his genius, for both. The same spirit which glorifies labor denounces every form of despotism but that of the multitude. Freed of the excesses due to wide license, and restrained by the good taste and culture of her nobler minds, we may anticipate for the literature of America, under the mellowing influences of time, an illustrious future.”

In treating of newspaper literature, one cannot proceed without blending its origin, style and aims with the business enterprise that cultivates and supports it. And this may be done all the more cheerfully and properly, for the reason that there is no history more interesting than that of the evolution of the newspaper, and no consummation of mental and physical energy that places the nineteenth century in more vivid contrast with preceding centuries.

For the fatherhood of the newspaper we have to travel to a land and date calculated to rob modern civilization of some of its boastfulness. The oldest known newspaper is the “Tsing-Pao,” or “Peking News,” mention of whose publication is made in Chinese annals as far back as A. D. 713, when it was then, as now, the official chronicler of the acts of the emperor, the doings of the court, and the reports of ministers. It has appeared daily for nearly fourteen hundred years, in the form of a yellow-covered magazine, some 3¾ by 7½ inches in size. The pages number twenty-four, and are printed from wooden movable type. Two editions are published, one on superior paper, for the Court and upper classes; the other on inferior paper, for general readers. Its editorship is in the Grand Council of State, which furnishes to scribes or reporters the news deemed fit for publication. As an official organ, it first finds circulation among the heads of provinces, and is by them further distributed to patrons. This ancient purveyor of news seems to have pretty fully gratified the Chinese taste for that kind of literature; for even at the present day there are few newspapers in the empire published in the native language. The few that have sprung up are confined to the larger cities, as Shanghai, Hongkong, and Peking, where they are liberally patronized. But their circulation and influence do not extend far into the interior, owing to the lack of postal facilities. The modern Chinese newspaper can hardly be called a native enterprise. It grew out of the necessity for a literature and a means of news communication which arose at the time the Chinese ports were forced open to the world’s commerce. As a consequence, a majority of the Chinese publications have found their inception in foreign brains and capital, and remain under the management of foreigners. The same is true of Japan, where the modern native newspaper practically dates from the arrival of the foreigner. But by reason of their greater mental and commercial activity, and the rapidity with which they adjusted themselves to modern modes of civilization, the Japanese have far outstripped the Chinese in their evolution of newspaper literature and enterprise. Whereas, what may be called the first modern Japanese newspaper was founded in 1872, there sprang up in the following twenty years the almost incredible number of 648 newspapers and periodicals, not only due to native capital and enterprise, but under native control. This wonderful growth took place, too, in the face of the severest code of press laws existing in any country.

In Europe, the earliest inklings of a newspaper literature consisted of news pamphlets of infrequent and uncertain publication, and dependent for circulation upon temporary demand. The earliest departure from this stage was in Germany, in 1615, when the “Frankfurter Journal” was organized as a weekly publication, for the purpose of “collecting and circulating the news of the day.” Antwerp followed with a similar enterprise in 1616. The first attempt to do likewise in Great Britain was in 1622, when “The Weekly News” was founded in London. None of these enterprises were by editors, in a modern sense, but by stationers, in the line of their ordinary trade. They did not depend for patronage on regular subscribers, but sold their publications on the streets through the agency of hawkers, corresponding to our modern newsboys, though they bore the classical name of “mercuries.”

The foundation of the first newspaper in France that attained permanence and fame was in 1631. It was called the “Gazette de France,” and owed its origin to a demand for mingled news and original discussion. It was largely under the control of Richelieu, and, of course, reflected his sentiments. In these beginnings of the newspaper, we find little or no attempt at journalism, as now understood and practiced; no promise and potency of a literature peculiar to newspaper enterprise. The journalist had yet to come into being. He first appeared as a writer of “news-letters,” generally from some capital, or seat of legislation, or commercial centre. His duty was to keep a line of masters or patrons supplied with news during their absence from court, legislative hall, or business mart. His duty evolved into a calling. His patrons became regular paying subscribers, to each of whom he wrote. These letters, coming from all countries of the continent of Europe, and covering a wide field of information, became of great interest, and many collections of them are still in existence in libraries, adding no little to their historic value.

The step was easy from this journalistic stage to the regular periodic publication, open not only to the “news-letter,” but to discursive thought. Thus, in 1641, “The Weekly News,” of London, began the publication of parliamentary proceedings in addition to its budget of “news-letters.” This era witnessed a rapid establishment of weekly newspapers, requiring editorial supervision and regular contributions. They were not without their vicissitudes. Many of their careers were brief and marked with pecuniary losses; yet out of the wreckage sprang some of the most important of the modern journals.

By 1703 Great Britain was ripe for a daily newspaper, and in that year one appeared under the name of “The Daily Courant.” The advent of this enterprise gave further impetus to newspaper publication. The English press of the eighteenth century rose into great popular favor. It was able, and quite too independent for royalty and royal courtier. For corrupt and ambitious government it often became a whip of scorpions, and in revenge was both severely taxed and invidiously censored. But it seemed to prosper amid opposition and persecution, and by 1776 fifty-three newspapers were published in London alone. During the reign of George III. (1760–1820) the history of the English newspaper is one of criminal persecutions, amid which editors and contributors were repeatedly defeated, and sometimes severely punished; yet it is doubtful if at any period the press gained greater strength from protracted conflict, or turned ignominious penalties into more signal triumphs. It is significant that out of this dark, tumultuous, and forbidding era sprang many of the newspapers whose influence is most potential to-day in English affairs of state and in the literature of journalism. The era marks the turn in newspaper values. The establishment became a concrete thing, a lively property, an energy composed of practical business minds, surrounded and supported by the best procurable literary talent, adapted for treating diversified topics. Thus “The London Morning Chronicle,” founded in 1789, rose to be a property in 1823 which sold for $210,000; while “The Morning Post” not only gave to Coleridge his fame as one of the greatest of publicists, but enlisted the brilliant attainments of Mackintosh, Southey, Young, and Moore. The sturdy “London Times,” which dates from 1785, and for years encountered malignant royal hostility, proved itself strong enough to brave the government and at the same time sufficiently enterprising to introduce steam printing and every mechanism calculated to give it precedence as a metropolitan journal. As a property, it is to-day worth a figure incredible at the beginning of the century, and so powerful was its hold on popular favor for the first half of the century that no other daily could compete with it. Indeed, it may be said to have had a lone field up to the establishment of “The Daily News,” in 1846, “The Daily Telegraph,” in 1855, and “The Standard,” in 1857.

The nineteenth century journalism of Great Britain is characterized by its great plenitude. Morning and evening papers abound in all the centres. The weekly paper is still an important literary and news factor. Class papers are numerous and excellent in their way. Again, the century’s journalism is characterized by its property value. Many of the leading English journals have become immense properties worth millions of dollars each, and requiring the ablest management to improve and perpetuate them. Further, the English press is characterized by able and conservative, if prosaic, editorial methods. Its correspondence is cautious, and covers every important field. Its news columns, so far as they depend on the telegraph and telephone, are sprightly and well filled, but limited and dull when the local reporter is the source of supply.