NOTES OF THE MONTH.

OCTAVE FEUILLET-NOTES FROM PARIS-THE RAILWAY STRIKE IN SCOTLAND UNIVERSITY HALL-A SNOWY MOORLAND.

OCTAVE FEUillet.

THE death of Octave Feuillet, the popular novelist, came as an unexpected literary calamity; for although his health had long been far from good, no one suspected that he was a prey to one of those diseases, the fatal issue of which is only too sure, sooner or later ; medical science being powerless to do more than stave off the fatal day for a limited time. Perhaps in this instance his life might have been prolonged had he been a more docile patient; but he was of a strangely nervous temperament, and impatient of control. In the vain hope of finding that peace and silence for which he longed, he perpetually changed his residence; but everywhere something jarred on his nerves and became a torture. He could bear no noise; when he travelled, he always engaged the room above his own, that he might not hear a footstep; and when by any means he could avoid railways, he accepted any miserable vehicle, rather than endure the hiss of the engine.

Physically and morally, the sensitiveness of Octave Feuillet was that of a man flayed alive. When his books or plays came out, he suffered tortures; praise did not satisfy him, for he doubted its sincerity, and blame threw him into a state of despair. To use a familiar expression, he lived in a state of "fidget"; always anxious, always worrying himself about something. And yet he was an amiable man; always ready for a kind act, and wonderfully patient, when he could oblige any one. He was too nervous and excitable to like general society, but he was extremely agreeable, and even cheerful, with his friends, till the death of his son, two years ago, from which crushing blow he never recovered. In the days of the Empire he was a favourite at the Imperial Court, where his gentlemanlike manners and graceful conversation were fully appreciated; unlike many others, he remained in adversity the faithful friend of the exiled Emperor and Empress.

Octave Feuillet belonged to a good old bourgeois family of St. Lô, in Normandy, and had every opportunity of thoroughly knowing the

society which he has depicted so powerfully, in his novels of fashionable life. But although the frame is true to nature, the portraits are those of exceptionally diseased minds. Women like the " Madame de Champvallon" of "Monsieur de Camors," or the dreadful "Julia de Trécœur," may exist in France, or elsewhere; but those who know French society, especially provincial society, will certainly recognize more readily women like "Madame de Camors," and her charming mother; or the "Suzanne" of "La Clef d'Or"; with the home of "Sibylle,” and the dear old people so delightfully described there. Many others might be quoted, equally sweet and pure, amongst the heroines of Octave Feuillet's impassioned narratives; we are 'inclined to think that these have been more faithfully copied from nature than the others.

NOTES FROM PARIS.

An important event in the world of trade has taken place by the election of the "Prud'hommes," or chiefs of the professional syndicates, which have succeeded to the ancient "Corps de métier," or guilds. There are in the Department of the Seine as many as 245 "chambres syndicales," or syndicates, representing the various trades. The "conseillers Prud'hommes" (or wise men) are chosen by moiety among the masters and among the leading operatives, and have the right of judging all quarrels between the masters and men. They also examine, with the syndicates to which they belong, all questions relating to reforms which may be proposed or considered necessary. On all occasions they are the recognized representatives of the interests of trade in Paris.

The "Prud'hommes" are named by election every three years; they number 138 at each election, and whether masters or men, receive for their trouble a compensation of 100 francs a month. The list of candidates is made out with scrupulous care by a committee of forty delegates from the "chambres syndicales." The electors must be at least twentyfive years of age, and must have practised their respective trades for at least five years.

The Conseillers Prud'hommes" elected are divided into four councils, each one acting separately, and having its own President and Vice-president, judging in turn the various difficulties which may arise in matters of trade, and acting as umpires between masters and men. Every month the four Presidents meet to exchange their views, and discuss measures proposed for the good of all.

The "Prud'hommes " may or may not be re-elected, according to the pleasure of the electors.

A curious communication has been made to the "Académie de Médecine" by M. Motais, of Angers, whose works on the various diseases of the eye are highly esteemed. He has closely examined the effect of captivity on the sight of wild beasts, such as lions, tigers, &c.,

and asserts that all animals in a savage state are far-sighted. The same remark applies to man in an uncivilized state, and even to those who, though civilized, follow avocations which oblige them to remain constantly in the open air, such as sailors or farm-labourers. The same faculty subsists in caged animals when they have been taken after the age of six or eight months; but when born in captivity, or kept in cages when very young, they become near-sighted, which M. Motais attributes to the narrow space in which they are confined, and the training which obliges them to follow the eye of the keeper or tamer to obey his will. The near-sightedness of school children may, in his opinion, be ascribed to the same cause; the habit of concentrating the sight on one point, and the fact that the power of the visual organ becomes modified according to the requirements to which it is subjected.

The terrible severity of the weather, and the sufferings of the poorer classes, add a fresh interest to all the efforts of private charity to procure some relief, one of the most useful of which is the " Asile des femmes," or refuge for women, at Clignancourt, the foundation of which is comparatively recent, although there are others in Paris. It was established by the "Société Philanthropique," and is directed by M. and Mme. Petit, their daughter, and three assistants.

Both women and children are received for the night, and the applicants being numerous, the task is not a light one. In addition to the night hospitality, baths are given in the morning to all the children who apply for them, and as a bowl of soup is given to all bathers, many are induced to come. The bath is enforced on all received for the night, not without great resistance in many cases, but the supper of soup is only given after the bath, immediately before going to bed, where they may remain till seven in the morning. The dormitories are kept scrupulously clean, and are ingeniously ventilated by replacing one of the panes of a window by a piece of stout linen, which, twice a week, is thoroughly imbued with carbolic acid. A light is kept burning (turned down) all night. Necessary washing is required on rising in the morning, a rule which is extremely unwelcome to most of the inmates, but it must be obeyed before receiving the ration of soup. Bread and milk is given to children.

Before leaving the house the women receive a certificate of having spent the night there. If unmarried, this entitles them to official assistance; but if married, the husband, however brutal and unworthy, is expected to provide for his wife and children, and nothing is given to the poor wretches, often more miserable than the others, on leaving the refuge.

A characteristic feature of Paris life may be found in the booths bordering the boulevards for the week preceding and the one following VOL. IX.-NO. L.

T

the New Year. The really ingenious toys sold for a few sous have been prepared in many a poor work-room, and the harvest of the New Year is awaited with anxious impatience, for numbers have staked their all on the chance of a good sale at that time. When the weather is unpropitious, when the bonbons melt in the rain or the toys remain unsold, the disappointment amounts to a calamity in many a household, so that all must wish success to the poor and ingenious "petits marchands" who, with imperfect tools and bits of tin, make such pretty little dolls, jumping on horses in a circus, or performing tricks on the tight-rope, or running along nimbly with brightly coloured carts, all sold for a few sous, and offered with such pressing earnestness! "Buy it, madame! See how it jumps! Such a joli cadeau for a child!" and so it really is. Then the cheap dolls of larger size, so prettily dressed, and looking so Parisian, sold for a franc! How ingeniously the merest bits of ribbon and lace have been worked up to make the little lady look the perfection of fashion! Some of the booths are marked " 20 centimes" in large letters, and everything there is sold for twopence. We saw every imaginable article-little pocket-books in leather or cloth, all sorts of toys in painted tin, little china slippers with which children are delighted, tiny dolls, coloured pictures, all for twopence.

These humble booths form a line on the boulevards opposite the shops where all the costly gifts are so temptingly displayed-the dolls of 50 or 60 francs each, seated round an elegant tea-table, and gravely taking tea; others skating on a pond, wrapped in furs, or seated in sledges; others at their toilet, with powder-puffs and other accessories, which may be too suggestive to the infant mind.

In the Rue de la Paix the jewellers' shops are especially attractive, the great rage being for fanciful brooches, representing enamelled flowers (some very beautiful) and fruit. The green grapes, so much in favour last autumn, have become rather too common; but a bunch of three cherries with gold stalks is pretty; also red and white currants in cornelian, looking wonderfully natural; three dried raisins, with gold stalks, also form a brooch, but it is more fanciful than really pretty. We were much pleased with a sprig of blackberries, ripe and unripe, in contrast, very natural and prettily set. Some enamel brooches represent knots of ribbon, carelessly tied, and fastened by a diamond pin; the imitation of the texture is so good, that real ribbon would produce exactly the same effect, so the advantage seems doubtful. One brooch, representing a pink radish set in diamonds, caused us some surprise; the bad taste was flagrant, and rather astounding in the Rue de la Paix.

We can recommend for family reading: 'Simplette,' by Fernand Calmettes; En Esclavage,' by Madame P. de Manteuil; 'Yette,' by Th. Bentzon; 'Le Secret du Mage,' by André Laurie; Trop Grande,' by Ernest d'Hervilly; 'César Cascabel,' by Jules Verne; 'Victor de

Trésac,' by a writer who signs, dY; Temps d'Epreuves,' by Madame Samson; ' Une Eléve de Seize Ans,' by Ernest Legouvé (de l'Académie Française).

THE RAILWAY STRIKE IN SCOTLAND.

Much has been written and will continue to be written on the social and politico-economical aspect of the Strike. To people living out of Scotland this industrial war, with rumours of further wars, is a subject for speculation, conjecture, and for prophecy to such as are willing to hazard that "most gratuitous form of mistake." But to us who live in Scotland the stern realities of the situation have been the practical problems with which we have had to deal, bringing forcibly home to us the state of Fool's Paradise of security in which we habitually live. No one who has not travelled in Scotland (we speak particularly of the side lines) can realize the sense of uncertainty which has attended our movements, or, worse still, our cessation from movement. Time (which proverbially waits for no man) and time-tables alike have been set aside, as matters which do not bear on the question of the journey, but which wait on the convenience of the engine-drivers and firemen. If the problem of the when is at last solved, after much questioning of indifferent or ignorant officials (evidently stop-gaps), there still remain the how and the where to be grappled with. To the anxious inquiry, "Shall we get along all right?" some such reply as "There's no telling what may happen," is vouched; an answer which, as the statement of an eternal truth, cannot be gainsaid, but which is not calculated to soothe vague fears. If, in this state of actual insecurity and potential alarm, you persist in starting on your journey, you have ample opportunity of seeing these feelings reflected on the countenances of your fellowpassengers, as you suddenly pull up with a jerk, having gone on to the wrong lines, or are kept waiting outside a station for an incalculable. time. You are liable to be delayed for hours at a side junction, waiting for connections from all points of the compass, as, owing to the scarcity of coals on the one hand, and overwork on the part of the loyal officials on the other, the trains in the locality to which you are travelling have been reduced to a minimum number. This is especially irritating when you have just passed through stations literally blocked up with coal trains.

In one part of Stirlingshire for six days there were no trains at all, and parts of Fife were cut off for two or three days from all communication with the outside world. It is easy to talk sentimentally of "the good old coaching days," but the public has been slow to appreciate the advantage of returning to them.

The daily assurance of the Press that the Strike is practically over, and that the traffic is being conducted with regularity, scarcely weighs