may be a man of spirit also, and that bravado does not constitute bravery. Now that the heat of anger was over, the young fellow was glad that the fearless interposition of the warlike peacemaker had prevented any killing, "'kase ef the old man hedn't hung on ter my gun like he done, I'd have been a murderer like he said, an' Rick would hev been dead. An' the bay filly ain't sech a killin' matter nohow: ef it war the roan three-year-old now, 'twould be different » HENRI MURGER (1822-1861) AKING into account a strange and persistent conception which has been afloat for many generations, the genius of artistic passion might well be represented as a haloed vagabond, with immortal longings in his eyes, and out at the elbows. In his 'Bohemians of the Latin Quarter,' Henri Murger, seizing upon this conception, has prefaced his story of the gay, sad, wild, halfstarved, half-surfeited life led by four followers of art in Paris, with a history of the world's Bohemians. He christens the picturesque clan by this name, now in general use; but he does not attempt to explain why the pursuit of art in painting or literature has been so often identified, in the past at least, with worthlessness as a citizen. He merely calls the long roll of those who have lived by poetry rather than bread. He does not hesitate to include the wanderer Homer, nor Shakespeare, nor Molière, in this fellowship. The inspired rascal Villon he claims as his soul's own brother; Gringoire,-"friend to vagrants and foe to fasting, "-Marot, Rousseau, Chatterton, are of his kin. For Murger himself was a prince of Bohemians. Born in Paris in 1822, his father, a tailor, arranged that he should study law; but Murger chose literature and starvation. His 'Bohemians,' which was published in 1848, and which made his fame, is the record of his own life and of the lives of some boon friends in the Latin Quarter. It is the story of those spirits in the untamed twenties, who like Omar desire only HENRI MURGER "A book of verses underneath the bough, A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou What does it matter that the wilderness is that of the Paris roofs, and the bread at least wanting, perhaps, and the beloved a little working-girl in chintz, happy with a few sous' worth of violets or an 10474 afternoon at Versailles? The Bohemians of Paris are linked by the chains of vagabondage, and of possible genius, to all those in every age and clime who have found stimulus for their powers in love and wine and song; and who in serving this trinity have forgotten the obligation to earn more than they spend. Murger himself did not long survive his translation, from that quarter of Paris where he lived in the fifth story of a cheap lodging. house because there was no sixth, to the realm of respectability. He was, however, still enough of a Bohemian to prefer a cottage in the Forest of Fontainebleau to the smug quarters of Paris, whose inhabitants know nothing of the excitement of chasing "that wild beast called a five-franc piece." Murger died in 1861; and there were those who questioned, in reviewing his life, whether he had been really at heart a Bohemian. His book, at least, shows the subtlest penetration into that irregular form of human nature known as the artistic temperament. The reader regrets that the possessor of such insight a man who could discern a brother Bohemian across many centuries and under the strangest disguises of mediæval rags — should not have explained why the world instinctively feels that the poet or the artist is not likely to be normal in his habits of living. Had he attempted to answer this question, he might have said that the man who sees visions and dreams dreams, knows the true value of bread and meat and gold pieces better than the Philistine; and can therefore accept their services irregularly, and with the nonchalance of the inspired. The world, before whom the bread and meat and gold pieces loom large as fate itself, translates this nonchalance into shiftless ignorance of the duties and obligations of life. As poets and artists are as a rule visionaries, this reputation is therefore fastened upon them. The world is not without its justification. Even Murger himself says, "Bohemia is a stage in the artistic life: it is the preface to the Academy, the Hôtel Dieu-or the Morgue." A BOHEMIAN EVENING PARTY From The Humor of France,' in 'International Humor Series' OWARDS the end of December the messengers of Bidault's agency were commissioned to distribute about a hundred copies of an invitation, of which the following is a faithful reproduction: M. MM. Rodolphe and Marcel request the honor of your company on Saturday evening next, Christmas Eve. There will be fine fun. PROGRAMME OF THE ENTERTAINMENT At 7 P. M., opening of the reception rooms; lively and animated conversation. At 8 P. M., entrance and walk through the rooms of the talented authors of the Mountain in Labor,' comedy refused at the Odéon Théâtre. At 8:30 P. M., M. Alexandre Schaunard, the celebrated virtuoso, will perform on the piano 'The Influence of Blue in the Arts,' descriptive symphony. At 9 P. M., first reading of the paper on 'The Abolition of the Penalty in Tragedy.' At 9:30 P. M., M. Gustave Colline, hyperphysical philosopher, and Monsieur Schaunard, will hold a debate comparing dephilosophy and metapolitics. In order to avoid any collision between the antagonists, they will each be securely fastened. At 10 P. M., M. Tristan, man of letters, will relate his early amours. M. Alexandre Schaunard will accompany him on the piano. At 10:30 P. M., second reading of the paper on The Abolition of the Penalty in Tragedy.' At 11 P. M., a foreign Prince will describe a Cassowary hunt. PART II AT MIDNIGHT, Monsieur Marcel, historical painter, blindfolded, will improvise in chalk the meeting of Napoleon and Voltaire in the Elysian Fields. Monsieur Rodolphe will improvise a comparison between. the author of 'Zaïre' and the author of Austerlitz. At 12:30 P. M., M. Gustave, in a decent undress, will imitate the athletic games of the fourth Olympiad. At I A. M., third reading of the paper on 'The Abolition of the Penalty in Tragedy,' and collection for the tragic authors who will one day be out of work. At 2 A. M., beginning of the games and organization of the dances, which will be continued until morning. At 6 A. M., sunrise and final chorus. During the whole of the entertainment the ventilators will play. N. B.-Any person wishing to read or recite verses will be immediately turned out and delivered up to the police. You are requested not to take away the candle ends. Let me tell you briefly the origin of the entertainment that so vastly dazzled the Bohemian world of Paris. For about a year, Marcel and Rodolphe had gone on announcing this magnificent entertainment to take place always next Saturday. But untoward circumstances had forced them to let the promise extend over fifty-two weeks. In consequence, they could scarcely move a step without having to endure the jeers of their friends, some of whom were actually unfeeling enough to formulate loud complaints. The affair began to get tiresome; and the two friends. determined to put an end to it by liquidating the engagements they had made. And the invitation quoted above was the out come of that decision. "Now," said Rodolphe, "there's no possibility of retreat: we've burnt our ships, and we've just a week in which to find the hundred francs indispensable for doing the thing well." "As they are so absolutely necessary," said Marcel, "of course they'll be forthcoming." And with an insolent confidence in luck, the two friends went to sleep, convinced that the hundred francs were already on the road-the road of the impossible. However, two days before the evening appointed for the party, as nothing had arrived, Rodolphe thought that if he did not wish to be disgraced when the time came for the guests to arrive, it would probably be safer to assist luck. In order to facilitate matters, the two friends, by degrees, modified the sumptuous programme on which they had at first determined. And from modification to modification, after greatly curtailing the item cakes, and carefully revising and diminishing that of drinks, the total expense was reduced to fifteen francs. The problem was thus simplified but not solved. "Well," said Rodolphe, we must take strong measures: we can't postpone it again this time." "Impossible," said Marcel. How long is it since I heard the story of Studzianka?" |