The Age of Science: A Newspaper of the Twentieth Century

by Frances Power Cobbe

Edwin and Angelina. By J. Fitzparnell. Taking for his guidance the observation of the immortal Bain, that the Tender Emotions are exclusively Glandular Affections, the author of this charming novel has afforded his readers a perfect study of the effects of each of the passions—Pity, Sympathy, Regret, Disappointment, Hope, and Love—on the various glands which they respectively affect. A simple love story naturally describes each emotion in its turn, and allows us to pause and acquaint ourselves with its physiological results. The lucid explanation of the physiological reasons why Mothers love their children is particularly valuable, as calculated to explode the last stronghold of the superstitious reverence which was once paid to parents among semi-civilized nations.

After these critical Notices of Books, the Age of Science proceeds to offer the following remarks on Art and the Drama:—

EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF ARTS.

First Notice.

To-day being the first of the New Year, this Exhibition was as usual opened to the public, and we think all true lovers of Art will agree that it is a most satisfactory one, and displays more than the usual average merit of our Exhibitions, whether we consider the aggregate number of important works, their size, their execution, or the noble prices they have realised to their authors; such prices having been, according to the lately adopted custom, published in the catalogues issued after the day of the Private View, when connoisseurs have made their selection of the works not previously disposed of in the ateliers of the artists. This (which is, after all, the true test of success) greatly enhances the interest of these catalogues, affording a guide as to the degree of public favour in which the respective artists are held. Reform in the Academy itself, so long demanded, has been at last effected, in spite of all the obstacles thrown in the way of the reformers, who desired to break down the monopoly so long maintained by the painters and sculptors, who would only consent to the admission of a limited number of architects and engravers into their privileged body. Now, at last, the claims of all artists have been recognised, and Decorators, Carpet-designers, Metalworkers and Electrotypers, Wood Carvers, &c. &c., have been admitted within its walls, and the magic letters R.A. may frequently be found attached to the names of the leading members of many of our manufacturing firms. In fact, we may say that Painting and Sculpture have found their level, and now that the great canon of Art has been thoroughly established, and it is acknowledged that Utility, not Beauty, is its only legitimate aim, and Scientific Reality and Accuracy, not wild attempts at attaining a so-called Ideality, its true goal of perfection, the merits of these too-long unrecognised geniuses have been found to surpass all others. The mechanical helps with which Science has supplied us have rendered it possible to accomplish feats of which our ancestors had no idea. Photography has enabled us to reproduce all possible forms, thus securing, with great economy of labour, the facile execution of stupendous works adapted for the decoration of the outside as well as the inside of our buildings. In this Exhibition, of course, these gigantic works cannot be seen, but the smaller ones by the same artists give us good specimens of their power. No. 3,004, for instance, is well worthy the attention of visitors. It is intended, as the catalogue informs us, for the wall decoration of the Terminus of the Great Central Balloon Station, and gives a very wonderfully correct representation of the three Provinces into which London is now divided, as seen from the distance of six miles above the height of St. Paul’s. Every roof and chimney is accurately represented, and every feature of the smallest interest, on the scale of an inch to a mile. Portrait-painting may be said to have been entirely superseded now that the Sun has been compelled to add colour to form in the pictures taken by the photographic camera, and Landscape Art has died out in its old inaccurate fanciful sense, having been succeeded by a more scientific method of representing Nature as she really is. The geological formation of every mountain, the physiology of each tree and blade of grass, as determined by expert geologists and botanists, will alone satisfy us in this age of science, and we demand this accuracy from all who pretend to record the aspect of our country. We find all these requirements met in the works of the distinguished landscape painter of No. 60,072, “View of the Great Smelting Works,” in the iron district, lately discovered in the North of Scotland. We venture to affirm that none but a thoroughly educated man of science could have painted the details of this picture, and we cannot bestow higher praise. The “Interior of the Factory,” No. 20,621, is also a work deserving of much commendation for the minuteness of its detail, which must be examined with a strong magnifier to be thoroughly enjoyed—the complicated arrangement of the machinery escaping the naked eye; also the texture of the materials which are being manufactured into webs of the most gossamer-like lightness from heaps of rough coarse yarns and woollen threads. The faces of the operatives are exquisitely rendered, and you seem to hear the noise of the wheels and cranks.

The Sculpture Gallery is perhaps less attractive to the general public than are the pictures; still it contains some interesting works, and the tailors and milliners who were consulted by the art critics as to the details of the costumes of the portrait statues, gave their opinion that very few errors had been committed this year, thanks to the advice tendered by them at sundry lectures delivered on the subject last summer. Our statesmen and benefactors are no longer represented in dress, or undress, in which they were never beheld, but in the exact apparel which they actually wore; and future ages will be afforded a correct idea not only of their features, but of any bodily defects they may have laboured to conceal. Thus an archæological and historical interest will attach to these effigies, and truth will be upheld. Science has done much for this art also. Mechanical means have assisted this accuracy of representation—notably in the application of metal, which can now be applied to the dress, &c., where great elaboration of detail is required, so as to admit, for example, of stamping out patterns in lace ruffles, and imitating the very texture of the materials, while the resemblance to marble is perfect. Especially useful is this invention for the application of colour; and we defy anyone to detect the difference of substance without the closest observation, such as a skilful workman alone could bestow. The advantages offered by this discovery are obvious in the case of veiled statues, so much admired by the British public. (See Nos. 720 to 1,293.) We cannot bestow too much praise on the exquisite polish of surface and delicacy of the workmanship of many of these works, notably in the feathers of the bird’s wing in No. 2,320, “A Chinese Scullion plucking a Goose.” Compare this with the rude and uncouth attempts of the ancient Greeks to idealize the naked human form!

THEATRES.

At this season in former times, when boys were foolishly allowed to leave school for the holidays, the theatres (as some of us are old enough to remember) were much frequented, and were principally used for a silly kind of entertainment called Pantomimes. Of the three theatres in London which still continue to be devoted to some sort of dramatic performance, and have not been transferred into Lecture Halls, one only (the Gaiety) seems successful this winter. Crowds attend every night to witness “School,” a piece in which there is no folly of love-making, but the anxieties of a Competitive Examination for Honours in Science are finely realised. A tragic interest is imparted to the plot by making the hero become insane just as he has achieved the object of his ambition. At the Haymarket there has been a failure which we fear will result in the ruin of the lessee. This enterprising gentleman imagined it might be possible to revive in these days an interest in some of the old plays once popular in this country, and after (it appears) long consultation and deliberation, determined to bring the Merchant of Venice upon the boards. It was hoped that the proposal of one of the characters of the piece, named Shylock, to cut a pound of flesh from another, and the discussion whether this could be done without the effusion of blood, would excite the interest of the spectators. Unfortunately, as the author of the drama (Shakespeare, we are informed) stops short at the very crisis of the physiological experiment, and allows the intended subject to escape, the audience not unnaturally have exhibited disappointment, and the piece has been pronounced a failure.

At the St. James’s Theatre the manager has likewise made a mistake in reviving Moliere’s Malade Imaginaire. We see no humour in this, so-called, comedy. Where is the point, for example, of the supposed jest of making the young medical student, Thomas Diafoirus, present his lady-love with a ticket of admission to a dissection? The act was a natural and delicate attention.

The next department of the Age of Science is very short as usual.