Table-Talk: Real-estate Speculators. Native Talent for Sculpture. Military Prestige of France. [pp. 317-318]

1870.] LITEBATUBL SCIENCE AND AI?R 31'
TABLE-TALK.
S one rides out of New York on the vari ous railways, he frequently notices large
level plains set out at intervals of about a
hundred feet with lines of miniature treesmostly straight saplings, five or six feet high,
with a little kniob of green leaves at the topand these lines intersected with others every
few hundred feet. Usually the traveller need
not inquire as to the object of this militarylooking horticulture, for large placards announce that he is passing an embryo "villa"
or "park "-park is the latest fancy nomenclature for these attempts at rural paradises
-and smaller placards point out to him where
"Irving Avenue" runs, and how "Ash Avenue" and "Fair Avenue " and "Shady Avenue" intersect each other. But, if his curiosity is enlisted in the matter, he will
doubtless find some communicative passenger
who will give him further particulars. He
will be told how certain philanthropic gentlemen, distressed at the crowded condition of
our cities, and anxious to afford the struggling citizen an opportunity to own in his own
right and name a country domicile at small
outlay and expense, have possessed themselves of "eligible" situations, laid out the
ground in lots, have "donated "-donate is
always the word-spaces for, and will contract
to build, churches and school-houses, and are
now ready to sell to the respectable artisan or
others "on the most favorable terms." Perhaps a pamphlet will be thrust into his hands,
which will give him a glowing account of the
"park," with illustrations of the contemplated church, school-house, post-office, railway-station, and will enter into particulars
of the next "grand sale" of the choicer portions soon to come off, which the public are
persuaded to attend by the inducement of a
free ride to and from the grounds, and the
promise of a collation. This seems like
uniting business with pleasure very agreeably; to be sure of a good picnic, and have a
chance to buy a corner-lot at a low figure in
the newv, promising, and one-day-to-be beautiful "Oakville," is something quite fascinating; and, if the traveller cannot attend himself, he probably talks about the matter to
his friends, and helps to work up the enthusiasm the "philanthropic gentlemen" beforementioned desire. If he attends the sale in
question, he will meet many peoples hear a
good deal of earnest talking and brilliant predictions, and will discover, if he is shrewd
enough to keep his eyes open, that certain
persons are busily stimulating this man and
the other up to the fever-point of purchase.
lie will find that Peter Funk is an institution
quite as likely to flourish in rural places
as in Chatham Street. He will become convinced, in short, that our philanthropic gentlemen have a talent for business, and know
how to play their cards with skill. And, if
he be a man of taste, he will marvel very
much at the disposition of people to invest in,
such miserable attempts at rural villages.
Be will wonder how hot, dry, arid, treeless
plains, without a single charm of rural landscape, without an element of beauty, should
so fascinate the picnicking buyers. He will
see corner-lots, about big enough for a goodsized barn, knocked down at high prices, and
resold before his eyes at an advance. Perhaps, if he watches closely enough, he will
detect this to be one of the philanthropic
manceuvres of the distinguished gentlemen already mentioned. If the visitor, having his
eyes about him, should see all that is to be
seen, he may discover that some of the
"eligible lots" are nothing more than filledin swamps, brushwood and an extemporized
sod making up a pretty surface sufficient for
the time being. If he note any handsome
evergreens studded about the grounds, perhaps, still having his eyes about him, he may
discover (what was boldly practised at one
of these sales on Staten Island) that the
pretty evergreens are fresh from the woods,
and only stuck up rootless into the ground
for the pleasant picnic occasion. We don't
for a moment intimate that all these realestate distributions are of this unhandsome
character; and we would not discourage a
taste for suburban homes; but one had better select his villa-site or his country-home
when not under the excitement of a cheerful
picnic. And, if some earnest and trustworthy attempt were made to bring the really advantageous places-the healthful, picturesque,
wooded hills into available form for pleasant
country-homes, the public would be greatly
served thereby.
We have referred in these pages to
a certain deficiency, apparent both in American literature and American art, whereby we
are rendered inferior to other nations in all
forms of dramatic rendition. It will be remembered that we pointed out how this deficiency exhibited itself in American comedy,
in American story-telling, and in American
historical and genre painting. But we made
no reference to sculpture. In this art the
American genius holds a foremost place. We
have only to recall the names of PowERs,
GREENOUGH, CRAWFORD, ROGERS, STORY, WARD,
PALMER, and HARRIET HOSMER, to show how
rich we are in this particular. There is, we think,
a marked national tendency toward this art.
While with almost every other branch of imaginative production we are compelled to acknowledge our inferiority, in sculpture we
may claim a place second to no other country. We have given the world, within the
last half-century, several sculptors of acknowledged preeminence, and are continually sending to the European schools pupils of distinguished promise. There is something in sculpture consonant to the national mind. The
perception and admiration of form are among
our natural gifts, just as they were a conspicuous element m the genius of the Greek
mind. We exhibit this talent in the superior
symmetry of our ships and yachts, in the
grace and beauty of our vehicles, and in the
shapeliness of our implements of labor. The
much laughed-at national habit of whittling,
no doubt, arises from an instinctive disposition to hew things into form and proportion.
Almost every Yankee boy is an adept with
the jack-knife, and falls into the skilful use
of the plane and the chisel with singular
readiness. There is not, it is true, the same
disposition to amateur moulding, but in
reality the two instincts are very much
akin. The sculptor simply supplements the
ordinary and very generally prevailing taste
for cutting and carving, by certain qualities
of imagination which urge him into a somewhat higher range of experiment. Sculpture,
then, may be assumed to be our national art.
But sculpture is prone to exclude the dramatic; almost all our American sculptors are
deficient in this direction. Powers, for instance, gives us simply beauty of form; he is
never dramatic, rarely complex, varied, or
prone to action. His ideas are didactic, idyllic; they are suggestions of beauty, of repose, of expression, of innocence. The
"Greek Slave" indicates in its title some
sort of dramatic narrative; but the stone has
no story of the kind to tell. It is simply a
beautiful female figure, appealing to our
admiration by the grace and perfection of its
limbs, and not to our pity or sympathy by the
keenness of suffering. Sculpture is scarcely
entitled to the high rank assigned it, if it is
to confine itself merely to passive and reflective delineation. The Greeks were so enamoured of beauty that they were usually content with its manifestation; but to-day the
tastes of men, if less pure, are wider and more
complex. The" Laocoon" of ancient art is
nearer the requirements of our dramatic and
picturesque age than such negative delineations as the "Greek Slave;" and hence,
while sculpture is a notable form of American
genius, we can scarcely hope to keep pace
with the rest of the world with one art, if we
do not transfer to it the power and passion
of dramatic conception.
The military prestige of France is
so great among Americans, who are generally
more familiar with -the history of Napoleon
I. than with their own annals, that, notwithstanding our sympathy with Prussia, the defeats of the French at the beginning of the
present *ar have produced universal disappointment among us. It was supposed, almost as a matter of course, that French energy and alertness would carry the war at
once into Germany, and win the first victories,
although the ultimate result might be decided
by German valor and German obstinacy.
Everybody thought of Jena, and many anticipated a similar triumph of the French arms.
The fact was overlooked that the Prussia of
1806 and the Prussia of 1870 were very different in power and organization. In 1806
Prussia was a small state, with less than ten
millions of population, with a weak arid vacillating monarch, a corrupt administration,
an oppressed people, and an old-fashioned army
badly led by old-fogy generals. It is no wonder
they were overthrown by the French, organized and led by the greatest military genius
that the world has ever seen. But, since the
catastrophe of Jena, Prussia has become a
great empire, controlling nearly forty millions
of population. 11er people have been relieved
from serfdom, from absurd restrictions on
labor and trade, have been granrted municipal
self-government, have been organized into
one vast military body, and have been edrrcated more generally and thoroughly than
any other people in the world. Thle gove.rnment is the best administered in Europe, and
is in the hands of singularly able men.
France, to be sure, has also made much prog
I
1870.]
LIT. ERATU-RE, SCIENVCE, A.D A-RT.
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