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gives a pretty good résumé of what is being done in English architecture, public and domestic, at present. As far as public architecture is concerned, it shows that classic architecture, or architecture based on classic forms, is in the ascendent at present; and there are some signs that new combinations may be evolved from it. For public buildings revived Gothic is entirely at a discount now. And if there must be a revived style, there can be little doubt that the classic type of architecture is more suited to modern public buildings in England than the Gothic, both as regards practical requirements and sentiment. Our civilisation and habits of life are much nearer to those of the Roman or Renaissance periods than to those of mediæval life. There may, no doubt, be such a thing as a modern style evolved which is dependent upon neither form of precedent. But it must be acknowledged that there is not much sign of it in the architectural exhibits at Shepherd's Bush.

Among the more important erections in the grounds is the Ville de Paris' pavilion, built for the special exhibition of the Municipality of Paris, and no doubt designed by one of their official architects. Almost needless to say, it is one of the best designed structures in the exhibition ; refined classic architecture with some good decorative use of modelled figures in the round and in bas-relief. But, alas ! the · Ville de Paris ’ is hopelessly unpunctual. In the Dublin exhibition they had their own pavilion, which, a month after the opening of that exhibition, was still closed ; and at the time this is written, more than two months after the official opening, the Ville de Paris' pavilion is still not ready. Whenever its doors are opened, it will probably be found to be one of the most interesting special exhibitions in the place. Meantime, we can take a glance at the French and English pavilions of ' Applied Arts.' The contents of these do not exactly bear out their name. With one important exception (to be noted just now) they do not represent the work of artists in applied art. If they did, we should feel (patriotically) happier. For no nation is now producing such good work, in such things as jewellery and silversmith's work, as English artists such as Mr. Fisher, Mr. Nelson Dawson, Miss Steele, and others are doing, combining so much invention with such pure taste. The jewellery of Lalique, about which so much fuss has been made lately, exquisite as it is in execution, is false and tawdry in taste compared with the best English work; the trail of the article de Paris is over it all. But it is not in these pavilions that we shall find the jewellery or silver work of the artist. These are shop exhibitions; the productions of such firms as Christofle, and Barbédienne, and Mappin and Webb. But it is worth while comparing the results, which are significant. In the French pavilion the one quality which seems to be aimed at before anything else is what may be called movement of line--all things are twisted, convoluted, restless in outline and detail. This is an element of vulgarity, but it cannot be denied that there is a pervading quality of cleverness, of a certain 'go' about it. In the English pavilion we do not find this element of vulgarity; there is, in a sense, better taste, but unhappily the good taste is entirely of a negative order; the designs are absolutely dull and commonplace. They look as if they might have been designed by machinery, and that at all events cannot be said of the French work. The latter includes some finely modelled bronzes, too, replicas of statuary; and Barbédienne’s miniature reproductions of the works of Barye, the great animal sculptor, are distinctly good. But the curious thing is that amid all this shop work there is one unpretending case, which no one looks at, containing purely artistic work of the highest class, exhibited by the French ‘Administration des Monnaies et Médailles. Let visitors to the French Applied Art pavilion look at this work, at the exquisite art displayed in the modelling of the medals by MM. Chaplain, Roty, Bottée, Cariat, and others of the French medal engravers-sculptors on a minute scale-work worth all the other exhibits in the room put together. The right place for such a collection would have been in the sculpture hall, not in a trade exhibition.

The British Textiles pavilion does not show much in the way of artistic work. It is worth notice how far more artistic are the patterns of Manchester goods prepared for the half-civilised races than those for home use. Almost the only two artistic stuffs of the kind are on lay figures of Indian wearers ; home taste seems to be content with simple stripes and checks. Among the contents of this pavilion is a little historic exhibition of dresses during the last century, enabling us to realise the hideousness of the mid-Victorian costume, and to see how Emma Woodhouse would have been dressed when she went out to dinner at Randalls. One or two of the dresses of that early Nineteenth Century period are very pleasing, and say much for the taste of the day. Nor does the Women's Work pavilion display anything very noticeable in the way of artistic design ; but it presents a contrast between French and English work in one instance, which is character. istic. There is an exhibit of dresses by one or two London firms, which impress one as made of very handsome materials cut into a satisfactory shaping; but in the dresses exhibited by a Biarritz firm one is not struck either by the richness of the materials or by any particular line that the eye can single out, but by a charm which seems undefinable, and to be the result of a kind of happy inspiration rather than of formal design. The contrast is rather a parallel one with that between the contents of the English and French Applied Art pavilions, and serves again to illustrate contrasts of national character and taste.

The Colonial pavilions contain only displays of useful products, and it is curious to observe how completely the artistic instinct, in the method of displaying them and of decorating the buildings, seems wanting here. We have triumphal arches of wool from Australia, for instance; and the attempts of Canada to treat the interior of her pavilion in a decorative manner are the worse for their very pretentiousness, and remind one of that dreadful trophy arch which Canada was allowed to erect in Whitehall at the period of the Coronation. The sense of Art will dawn on the Colonial mind some day, no doubt, but the time is not yet.

However, we must not be too superior, for we can be as Philistine ourselves in other ways. Music is also an art, and there are one or two good bands in the grounds. That they should, for the most part, play very poor music is perhaps only what was to be expected in a place of public entertainment in this country. But there is worse than that to be charged against them. One day I heard from a distance the familiar strains of the opening of the finale to the C minor Symphony, started by the band in front of the Fine Art pavilion, and moved nearer to hear what they made of it. The first thirty or forty bars were played, as far as the end of the intermediate subject (the unison passage leading up to it being absolutely vulgarised by the omission of the contra tempo accent which gives it all its force); the principal ' second subject ' was omitted entirely, and a jump made to a few bars of the prestissimo passage at the end, which concluded the performance. No one seemed disturbed ; no one offered to throw anything at the bandmaster's head. Is such a piece of Vandalism possible in any other European country? No; when we can thus hear Beethoven's grandest finale reduced to a pot-pourri

Butchered to make a British holiday

we realise, in spite of the word ' Franco-British,' that we are in England - very much in England.

H. HEATHCOTE STATHAM,

THE CHASE OF THE WILD RED DEER

ON EXMOOR

In an article in this Review, towards the close of the last season on Exmoor, Lord Coleridge described with hereditary eloquence a staghunt from the stag's point of view. Reduced to plain prose that article tells how he saw a stag hunted and killed, and how the onlookers, old and young, male and female, lay and clerical, all seemed to enjoy them. selves. But the sight spoilt the pleasure of Lord Coleridge's walk. He does not judge us, and asks us to think kindly of him in return.

Now the sport of stag-hunting with the Devon and Somerset is supported by the practically unanimous opinion of the countryside. It attracts hunting men from every county in England, and from many foreign countries ; and not hunting men alone, but men distinguished in politics, literature, law, medicine, and the Church. Could they be consulted I believe the deer would support it too. That, I own, is matter of conjecture. The support of the countryside and the field is undeniable, and that support implies that a very large number of good men and women look on stag-hunting as a pursuit which none need be ashamed to enjoy. The object of this article is to show the reasons for that belief. And though sentiment operates quite as strongly on the one side as on the other, I wish at first to treat the matter on the strict Benthamite system : to strike a balance of pains and pleasures.

Let us take the stag first. His size and beauty win for him a degree of sympathy that is not extended to the fox or hare. And an eminent philosopher propounds a curious theory that the cruelty of killing varies with the nearness of the animal killed to man on the ladder of evolution; so that the slayer of a deer is more guilty than the slayer of a fish. This is surely moonshine. It is more reasonable to say that the amount of cruelty varies with the amount of pain inflicted, and I know of no evidence to show that a large animal feels pain more intensely than a small one. In the words of one who was no mean naturalist,

The poor beetle that we tread upon
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.

It is always the custom to describe a stag as 'the noble animal.' As a great admirer, I regret to say that his nobility is confined to appearance, and does not extend to character. If the truth be told he is a selfish old fellow, much addicted to the pleasures of the table and the harem. He is a dreadful bully to the hinds and

a young deer ; and, though well armed by nature, is a poor fighter save at the season when the lust of the flesh is upon him. Now in satisfying his appetite he does a great deal of damage to crops. Not only what he eats but what he spoils has to be considered. The hunt pays some 10001. a year in compensation, and there are rumours that the sum does not cover all the damage done. Yet the stag, if not a welcome, is usually an unmolested guest. The farmer is very loyal to the hunt, and though he often growls he seldom shoots. And so the stags have the best of everything for years. Some live to a ripe old age, escaping pursuit, or at all events capture, in the summer, looking on and laughing when hinds are hunted in the winter. There was an old nott stag on Dunkery and an old one-horned stag on the Quantocks, well-known characters both, that eluded hounds for years. For even when a stag is hunted it is by no means certain that he will be killed. He has

chances in his favour, as all who follow the hounds know well. It is true that it is the business of those responsible for the hunt to make the odds against him as great as possible. Horses must be fast and fit. Hounds must combine drive with steadiness. The staff must thoroughly understand their work. Then, if luck is with the pursuers, to kill a stag looks easy. It is not really so. I have hunted a great many deer myself, and I cannot remember a day when at some period or other of the chase I did not expect my quarry to escape. In hunting a stag, if you make two mistakes you will probably lose him; you will probably lose a hind if you make one. The deer indeed has many chances. If all fail him, he is killed with as much speed and humanity as possible. He has lived a life of luxury for years, and has a bad half-hour at the end. From his point of view surely the pleasure predominates over the pain. For if it were not for the hunting he would not exist at all. Everyone's hand would be against him. In the middle of last century, when stag-hunting was dropped for a few years, the deer very nearly became extinct. And then it must be remembered that one animal only is killed to provide sport for hundreds. I do not wish to malign other sports. But compare this with the shooting man's bag of pheasants or the fisherman's basket of fish. It is true the hinds are killed. The country would be overrun with deer, were they not. But they have a far longer period of grace before and after the birth of their young than any other hunted animal ; and I have never heard of a hind that was not killed being any the worse for being hunted. It is said there is an element of cruelty in all sport. It may be so, and in all life as well. I doubt if any form of sport is less cruel than the chase of the deer.

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