Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-01-11

Ueemlng population, and sitting IN
queenly robes, with her feet in the
sands of the desert of the Hanrop,
amid mosques and minarets, and robed
men, smoking the nargileh on divans.
or by playing fountains or cooling
streams.
Beirut. standing proudly on penin-
sula-shaped headland on one side of
beautiful crescent bay, is the CONNER
cial or moral mistress of SYRIA, sending
the currents of life up the French high
way to Damascus, as the heart sends
the blood through the artery to the
head.
Smyrna is the mistress of two ages
and civilizations, repOsing on a quiet
plateau by the sea, welcoming the COM
merce of the West, guarding the grave
of Polycarp and the manners and forms
of the East.
Constantinople at distance is the
slightest of the cities, but on approach
ing near you see she wears O mask.
and behind that mask you perceive
restlessness, discomfort, perfdy and
sullen waiting for revolutionary chaos.
Athens is the bride of the cities. Sha
holds in one hand broken marble point
ing to the ruins of her art in hersic
ages--the art which has conqueredfHe
world-and in the other the scepter of
new springing power.
Naples, as we approach 1t by steam
er from the south and round the point,
rises up out of the sea as charming,
timid apparition shrinking away from
Vesuvius, who holds a smoking brand
in one hand, shaking it over her head,
and yet afraid to 90 in the other direc-
ton, as he thrusts the other hand in
his subterranean pocket, touching the
secret springs that let off convulsiops
in lschia and the regions beyond her.
Rome, the attractive, the interesting,
the historic, the hider and the reyealer
of the secrets of her mother. the ..Mis-
tress of the World" sitting in a royal
way on her seven hills-full as she is of
art and history-is nothing else, in
form, so much as she is saint She
is the high priestess in her tent of the
cities of the earth. Religion is scrolled
upon her buildings, outside and inside,
on her streets, ON her calendar, on her
garments, on her food and manners.
do not know how far this sainthood
strikes in, or what it is worth. speak
only of color.
Florence, one of the Queens, reposes
half-asleep, half-awake, in beautiful
cradle of the Apenines, dreaming
over the splendors of the past, display
ing still matchless profusion of art
treasures, and beguiling those who
come under the influence of her charms
through labyrinths of plastic and paint
ed beauty.
Venice, the daughter of commerce,
sits with her feet in the Adriatic, snuff
ing the breezes of the sea, Drowned and
weather-beaten, and her robes soiled,
as she toyed with the gondoliers and
water sprites so long.
Paris, is the city of sentiment Not
30 much of the ideas or principles, or
even prudence or policy, as sentiment,
reignS. The inspiration of her patriot
ism is the love of glory; of her letters
and art, the desire to crafty artificial
demands and tastes rather than to exalt
humanity; of her efforts in dress and
manners, to create and MAINTAIN q
bland, imperial goddess. Fashion, and
compel Others to worship at his shrine
Sentiment is the height and depth.
length and breadth OF the popular feel
ings. 1t is curious to note that paint
ers and sculptors in Paris do not rely
upon the expression of soul, of charac-
ter. in their works so much as on in
trinsic circumstances, sensational atti-
tudes, combinations, adjuncts. If you
see statue of Liberty on a column in
public square, she is represented as
standing on trp-toe on one foot, throw
ing the other far up in the air behind,
leaning far forward with a flaming
torch in her hand, and her wings
spread, as if eager to leave the spot
and fly away to the ends of the earth.
while her whole thought is absorbed in
the figure, and you have no interest in
the face. You see no character, no
truth, no ideal You have sensation
al display. Yet Paris in her clean
robes is attractive and beautiful.-Ak-
bany Express.