the next half century to enforce the same system at the point of the bayonet, we should be any nearer making it a success? Where should we be now even in Ulster if we had followed Lord Salisbury's advice and thrown out the Land Act? We have, for the first time, made a commencement in a new direction, by a piece of Radical legislation-for there is no doubt that the Irish Land Act was a very Radical measure, breaking violently with received maxims and old traditions-and by this Act we have laid the foundation of a better state of things. But a great deal more remains to be done to reconcile Ireland to England and raise the mass of its population to a state of decent existence. And how is this to be done except by a Radical majority; that is, by a majority of men deeply penetrated with a sense of the magnitude of the evil, and earnest in the determination not to be deterred by doubts and difficulties, or fettered by old traditions and prejudices, from carrying out whatever measures are found, after fair discussion, to commend themselves to common sense and justice. The question of Local Government in Ireland will, whether we like it or not, soon have to be faced in this spirit, and not be met by the arbitrary "non possumus " of a Papal Encyclical. There are some things we cannot concede without fighting for them to the death-specially the absolute control of the army, armed police, and foreign policy, so as to secure us against the risk of being taken in the rear by Ireland in case of a foreign war. We must also have security for the lives, property, and religious equality of all classes of our Irish subjects, even though they happen to be an unpopular minority. We must have absolute freedom of trade and intercourse between the two countries. And no doubt many other conditions would present themselves when the question came to be grappled with in a practical shape. On the other hand, there are many matters in which it is clear that Ireland ought to have self-government. It is monstrous that if an Irish county wishes to get a railway made by guaranteeing the requisite capital on the rates, its promoters should have to come to London, spend a large sum in fees to English Parliamentary agents and lawyers, and finally have the whole thing thrown out by a single British peer without hearing argument or evidence. This actually happened not many years ago, and it was enough to make any man a Home Ruler. But between the two extremes of things we ought to concede, and things we never can concede, there are a large number of intermediate matters which are fair subjects for discussion and for settlement by conciliation and compromise. And the great hope for the future of Ireland lies in the possibility of the parties which command a clear majority in England and Ireland, respectively coming to some reasonable understanding as to what measures of local government will satisfy Ireland and may be safely conceded by England.

It is our interest to grant anything we safely can, consistently with maintaining the integrity of the empire, both to meet reasonable claims and to satisfy national aspirations. It is their interest not to insist on what we cannot surrender without a fight, for if it came to a fight it is abundantly clear they would get the worst of it. The problem is a very difficult one, but I do not believe it is insoluble; and, at any rate, we shall have to try to solve it soon, for it will force itself on us after the next general election, if Mr. Parnell, as seems probable, finds himself at the head of sixty or seventy Irish members. Now I do not see how this vital question can ever be solved unless by a Radical majority, for a Conservative majority, or majority of Conservatives and Whigs united, would simply stave it off for a few years, and leave it in an aggravated form to their successors. This consideration weighs greatly with me in throwing in my lot with the Radical party. If the problem is to be solved at all, it can only be by the leaders of a Radical English majority coming to an understanding with the leaders of the Irish National party on some reasonable basis consistent with the integrity of the empire.

I might say a good deal more, but I have said enough to point out the main currents which have drifted the bark of my political convictions so far in an advanced direction. I do not expect all to agree with me, though I am sure a great many will, for I have always found that I was neither very much ahead of nor very much behind the current opinion of the average of intelligent politicians, and that what was passing in my mind was passing, or would very soon be passing, through the minds of a number of others. But I think that even those who disagree with me will admit that I have shown some cause why a man who is neither extreme nor violent, and who has honestly endeavoured in the words of the prayer with which our proceedings open in the House of Commons, to "lay aside all prejudices and partial affections," may confess himself to have become, by a gradual process of "political evolution," a convert to the cause of "Rational Radicalism."

S. LAING.

OLD COMEDY ON A NEW STAGE.

THE drama of Plautus and Terence is Comedy within the modern acceptation of the term. But the Old Comedy of Athens is a kind of entertainment which has no proper analogue in any other age or country. This was the first source of the peculiar interest excited by the recent revival of the Birds at Cambridge. Would the piece be a good play, or only a bad pantomime? We propose to touch briefly on the salient points of the performance, and to add a few words on the general character of Aristophanic Comedy.

Introductory music by Mr. Hubert Parry, performed under the direction of Mr. C. V. Stanford, made a delicately bright and airy prelude. In front of the curtain the "thymele," or altar of Dionysus, on the platform destined for the chorus, was crowned with fruit and flowers. The proscenium was the same as last year, when on these boards the Ajax of Sophocles had so remarkable a success. represented the front of the stage of a Greek theatre, subdivided by columns and pilasters of coloured marbles, and surmounted by a pediment, filled by a group of statuary.

It

The curtain rose on a wild tract near the sea, with rocks and thickets of flowering plants; the back-scene, beautifully painted by Mr. O'Connor, shows a headland jutting forth on the blue waves; a rock and bush are at the side of the stage on the spectator's left. The two Athenians-Peithetaerus, or "Plausible" (Mr. James), and Euelpides, or "Hopeful" (Mr. Newton)-wear the petasos or "wide-awake" of travellers, and carry on the wrist a crow and a jay respectively, bought in the market at Athens, and "warranted sound" in their knowledge of the way to the Hoopoe's abode, of which the travellers are in search. The two birds presently make it clear that the Hoopoe lives in the bush on the left of the stage. Considering the rock as the front door, the men knock, and the Hoopoe's servant appears. In other words, the "runner-bird” (Mr. G. J. Maquay), with the plumage as of an enormous plover, bounds on to the stage. The Athenians fall flat on their faces, and the crow and the jay embrace this opportunity of escaping.

The "runner-bird" has some scruples about awakening his master, who is taking a nap after dining on myrtle-berries and a few gnats, but yields to persuasion. The Hoopoe (Mr. F. R. Pryor) presently appears, with an enormous beak, which moves his visitors to a merriment scarcely consistent with politeness. Delighted with Plausible's idea of founding an aerial bird-city, he resolves at once to convoke a parliament of birds. So he re-enters the bush, and chants a call to his mate Procne. If the nightingale's note is once heard, all the

feathery tribes will flock together. The song, set to Mr. Parry's music, was sung from behind the bush by Mr. Maquay, and charmed the "creatures of a day" in front of the foot-lights no less effectually than the "immortal birds " behind them.

Hardly have the notes died away, when a strange sound is heard, and a huge scarlet ibis (unknown to Greece, but that does not matter) comes on the stage. Then another bird, another, and another, till a whole throng has crowded in, chirping, chattering, crowing, and flapping their wings in the liveliest excitement. The Chorus of birds is before the audience.

Ancient vase-paintings depicting scenes from this play show the dress of the bird-chorus to have been "purely conventional," as Mr. Waldstein, who so ably filled the arduous post of stagemanager, says in his preface to the acting text. Some advance on this was made in the present case. It was not attempted, indeed, to dress up the actor completely as a bird. He remained literally "a man-bird"; but his bird-attributes were in each case approximately correct for the species which he represented. He wore above his head the head of a bird, with the appropriate crest, beak, and eyes. Below this bird-head the human face was left visible, peering forth as from a feathery vizor. The effect was particularly grotesque in the case of the swan and one or two other birds, where the human face appeared a long way down-at the base, in fact, of the slender, towering neck. The only exception to the head-dress plan was the owl (the coryphaeus, or leader of the chorus), who necessarily wore an owl-mask over his face. The wings (of canvas) were painted for each special plumage, and attached to the shoulders of the ordinary Greek tunic worn by the actor. A piece of bamboo represented the terminal quills. Holding this in his hand, the actor could expand or fold his wings at pleasure. Mr. John Willis Clark, with whom the idea of acting this play originated, took great pains with the bird-dresses, bringing to bear on them not only his taste and skill in things dramatic, but also the science of a naturalist, and being further aided by the counsels of so eminent an ornithologist as Professor Alfred Newton. Strict ornithological accuracy was not, of course, aimed at; but skins of the real birds were furnished to the costumier, M. Barthe, enabling him to reproduce closely enough the general form of the beak and the general marking of the wings. The species of birds composing the chorus were selected so as to satisfy, as far as possible, the hints in the text, and at the same time to present the most effective variety. These included the hoopoe, plover, scarlet ibis, kingfisher, cuckoo, duck, magpie, jay, eagle, sparrowhawk, woodpecker, cormorant, spoonbill, white flamingo, swan, cock, and owl.

When the birds learn why they have been summoned, they are furious with the hoopoe. He has betrayed them by receiving these

once.

two enemies of their race. The men shall be torn to pieces at The scene on the stage here was excellent-Plausible and Hopeful defending themselves with pot, pan, and skewer, while the birds dart at them from every side with their beaks, the cocks being foremost in the fray. At last the Hoopoe obtains a hearing for Plausible. The birds withdraw from the stage proper to the lower stage which represents the "orchestra" of a Greek theatre. From the stage Plausible harangues them. The by-play of the birds during his oration was extremely droll. The proposal to found a cloud-city is carried by acclamation, the Hoopoe adding a hint that they must not dawdle, as the Athenian general is doing at the siege of Syracuse. He then takes the two men into his house, to provide them with the first necessary for a bird-life—wings.

This

Now comes the "parabasis," or address by the leader of the chorus. to the spectators. In the Birds, this is a magnificent piece of poetry and eloquence. If justice was to be done to it in delivery, it was essential that the actor should have freedom of gesture. could not have been so if it had been given to the coryphaeus, since he, like the other birds, had his hands pre-engaged with his wings. It was therefore assigned to a special actor, Mr. C. Platts, who, with symbolical wings merely attached to the shoulders of the tunic, advanced to the front on the lower stage, the bird-chorus being grouped around him. His declamation of the parabasis was a fine piece of elocution, uniting fire with self-restraint in a manner which has been generally and justly admired.

upper.

The two choral songs interwoven with the parabasis were sung to Mr. Parry's music, the first from the lower stage, the second from the This closed the first Act (at verse 793), and the curtain fell. With Act II. the scene has changed from the seaside tract to the site of the new city in cloud-land. Fleecy white clouds are on either hand, and stretch far away in filmy perspective, while earth is dimly descried below, recalling the lines in Tithonus:

"A soft air fans the cloud apart; there comes

A glimpse of that dark world where I was born."

Small as was the stage for such a purpose, Mr. O'Connor had been very successful in conveying the idea of aerial space, while the effect of atmosphere was given by stretching a sheet of gauze across the back of the stage. Behind the gauze, the birds passed and repassed, as if flying.

Plausible and Hopeful now appear with wings fastened to their shoulders, but otherwise unchanged. Early in this Act,-where a raven appears, playing a flute,-Mr. Parry seized the opportunity to set the air of Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär (already used in the entr'acte to Act II.) to the old Greek Lydian mode, with most comical effect. The priest now offers sacrifice at an altar in the middle of the stage. As he duly scatters the salted meal around, the Chorus of