sea. From The Economist. THE DECLINE IN THE POWER OF NAVIES. THIS war has revealed, or rather has hinted the revelation of a fact of immense importance to maritime States, namely, a diminution in their power of effective attack. This diminution has been effected in a very curious, and, as it were, accidental way, without any direct decrease in the strength of navies, and merely through a change in the first conditions of the art of war. Nations have become armed, and armed nations cannot, in the existing condition of naval armaments, be conveyed by France, for example, is a very strong maritime_Power, possesses the second war navy in Europe, and has wealth sufficient to secure any reasonable number of transports. This navy is very well fitted, very well manned, in complete readiness, and altogether so strong as to be formidable even to Great Britain, and decidedly superior to any other navy now existing in Europe. Nothing whatever has occurred to raise any suspicion of its efficiency, nor are there any accidental circumstances, such, for instance, as want of coal, or absence of enterprise, or peculiarity of geographical position, which should reduce it to temporary inaction. There is plenty of coal, there is a great wish to make the French fleet effective, and the enemy has a long sea coast offering many ports for attack and many points at which a descent would be comparatively easy. Nevertheless, the value of the French fleet in the contest is comparatively small-is confined in fact, to its power of impeding trade, of frightening one or two considerable towns on the coast, and of inflicting a certain humiliation upon the German navy. To make the fleet efficient it must be aided by a force capable of effecting a descent, and to make a descent dangerous it must be made by a force capable of maintaining itself upon the coast and such a force to be safe must comprise a number of men which no existing navy would undertake to convey. No navy, except the British, could convey in one trip for any long distance more than 40,000 men. It is extremely difficult to pack a complete regiment of 1,000 men into a steamer of any available size for any voyage, however short; and when the steamers are of average sizes, and artillery and cavalry and impedimenta and food have all to be conveyed, it is useless to reckon on less than three good sized vessels for every thousand men. One hundred and twenty first-class transports make a considerable fleet, re quiring a large convoy of ironclads; yet that fleet cannot convey in safety and ease more than 40,000 men, and 40,000 men cannot without useless hardihood attack an armed nation. They might seize a port, say Hamburg, but they could not hold it, or, holding it, could not make an advance which would materially affect the fortunes of war. The days are past when 40,000 men made up a considerable army. General von Falkenstein, whose command is a secondary one, and who is almost forgotten amid the great struggles occurring in NorthEast France, has still 150,000 men under his orders, and is said to wish for nothing so much as the landing of an expeditionary corps at Cuxhaven, which he would immediately proceed to destroy. Whether that report is true or not, it is quite certain that he could either destroy it or reduce it to inaction, and that consequently the abandonment of the Baltic expedition, which has been recalled to defend Paris, will have little effect upon the fortunes of the war. Armed nations, in fact, are in the field, and no force which can be conveyed in one trip by sea can have any effect upon their colossal strength: while to make many trips is to leave the first expedition isolated, without communications and without supplies of necessary food. The effect of this change upon the position of Great Britian deserves attention. We could no doubt, if masters of the sea, by a supreme effort, convey 80,000 men to any scene of action, but unless those 80,000 landed upon a friendly coast, or a coast so near that many trips would not be equivalent to many desertions, we could hardly land them in the face of the immense armies it is now the custom to bring into the field. General von Falkenstein, for example, would dispose of our expedition almost as rapidly as he would have done of the French one; and, practically, the only coast we could descend upon, with any reasonable chance of success, is that of Belgium or France. We could of course injore any coast, but modern war hardly allows the bombardment of peaceful towns, and if the ports were left unguarded we could, without a descent, effect little beyond a diversion, detaching, as in the Prussian case, only a corps d'armée from the main body. This is a very serious diminution of our power, our navy having formerly enabled us to transport any whither an army as able to keep the field as any army to which it was at all likely to be opposed, while, at present, an army such as Wellington led into the Peninsula would be destroyed by such a leader as the Crown Prince, merely And by sacrificing man for man. On the other" Quits" by the Baroness Tautphoeus, at hand, this change immensely increases the the time when Flunger, who now acts the safety of Great Britain herself from any part of Pilate, took that of Christ. attack not directed or supported by France. her account made me fear the play might be She cannot be invaded except by sea, and almost too oppressively real, too much of by sea she cannot be invaded by more than an illusion. On the other hand, on the fifty, sixty, or supposing Rotterdam the Saturday, Henry had been shown Joseph point of departure, possibly 80,000 men at Mair, who now takes the part of Christ, once. The limit of military necessity there- sitting in a wide-a-wake and short jacket fore with her, that is, of a necessity it is with some friends outside one of the Amimpossible to avoid, is a force capable of mergau inns, drinking a glass of beer, and crushing, and crushing rapidly, a complete he thought his face, as seen under these not army of 80,000 men. Such a force is not very fortunate circumstances, though gentle only within our power without conscription, and, for his position in life, singularly reor other violent change in our existing fined, quite wanting in the majesty requisite social system, but is, or in a few days will to present springs of action so unique and be, actually under arms. Without any unearthly, and apparently, too, a little undue national vanity, we may fairly be- shadowed by melancholy, or perhaps it lieve that our troopswhose first charac- might be by craving for work more suitable istic is the Prussian one, the power of main- to his powers than the wood-carving which taining steadily an irresistible fire are the is his usual occupation. How, if the whole equals of any other troops, and we shall in representation were marred by a touch of a few days have 100,000 of them, supported anything morbid and self-regarding in the by 40,000 very good militia, quite equal to expression of one who in every word and deed soldiers in a defensive war, and 160,000 should have seemed to be founding a kingvolunteers, who in all but discipline are pre- dom that is not of this world? But neither cisely the Prussian Landwehr over again, fear was in the least realized. The open-air and who would find discipline enough in the theatre, with the very un-Oriental scenery, danger itself. Such a force ought to be able, would be able, to crush any army that can be carried by sea, and we have only to see that it is efficient even in the minutest details, that for instance it has means of speedy locomotion, to be as safe from any hostile attack as any State in which the population are not soldiers, and which will not willingly endure to make them soldiers, can be expected to be. If we want more than this, a point on which we express no opinion, we must change our system; but it is clear that for mere safety we are sufficiently pro-time, and guarded us against falling under vided that all these marvellous events around us, the battles with hundreds of thousands on each side, and the marches of armed nations and sudden collapse of Empires, do not, if steadily considered, affect our position at all. From The Spectator. (Extract from a Letter.) - the bright green mountain-side, with its herds of cows, its hayfields and pine woods, towering behind the stage and its mimic Jerusalem, -the larks that hung over the audience vying with the finest of singers in the beauty of their song, the bright butterflies that darted to and fro among us whenever a gleam of sun came out, — all gave an outside framework, as it were, to the play which kept our imaginations fully awake to the fact that it was but a reproduction of the Passion in a distant land and the spell of what I might call an unreal realism. Moreover, the long-robed “Schutzgeister," "protecting spirits," as the people there called them, who played the part of a Greek chorus, reciting, chaunting, and singing their comments on the development of the action, and their descriptions of those various illustrative tableaux-vivants from the earlier periods of Jewish history, by which the leading events of our Lord's life were, or were supposed to be, prefigured, interposed a confessed artistic purpose between the spectator and the action, and protected us from any illusion that we were gazing at the greatest, darkest, brightest action of human history, and not merely at a dim WE had felt more anxious, as I told you in my last letter, as to the effect of the Pas-image of it. There is not only no vulgar sion Play on us, the nearer we were to the fulfilment of the long-delayed expectation. Like most other English people who went there, I had read the account of the play in attempt at that " deception " which is falsely called realism, and is, in fact, the most utter unrealism; but there is a much completer freedom from it than is at all usual in manded by its wholly obliterating for the moment so terrible a present. But this, I think, is almost the only criticism which the most fastidious observer could have passed. For true and perfectly natural stateliness of movement and dignity of manner, both in private with the Apostles, and amidst every indignity of the trial, it is impossible to conceive Herr Mair's part surpassed. "Ye call me Master and Lord, and ye say well, for so I am," is pronounced in a tone which explains how impossible it was that any act of humility, like the washing of the disciples' feet, should in him involve a humiliation. The almost utter silence, too, before Annas, Caiaphas, Herod, and Pilate, and the complete passiveness in the hands of the soldiers, as they struck and insulted him, were all accompanied by a look, not of fortitude and tension, but rather of what the Roman Catholics call recollection," a look as if there were nothing in these coarse questions and insults to which any genuine answer or explanation or expostulation were appropriate, but rather only a current of inevitable passions, a surface current of which the moving spring lay deep beyond the reach of words; as if, in short, there were no real want which words could reach, only, at most, an opportunity for words which could not but be vain. Nothing struck me more freshly than the effect of this prolonged and hardly-broken silence of Christ's. In reading the history, one cannot realize this, both because the events pass far too quickly in the terse narrative, and because such silence, till you see it, is a negative and not a positive conception. I confess I never realized so fully the meaning of "the Word made flesh as when I perceived the connection between the Divine speech and silence. the modern drama; a freedom partly due | hardly that piercing vision of the appalling to the pure air and natural lights and shad- future in his glance which seems to be deows of the wide mountain landscape, which counteract every morbid or artificial excitement, partly to the greatness of the action itself, which, like the themes of the old Greek tragedies, kept before our eyes sufferings and aims elevated far beyond those of ordinary life. Hence, though I felt, with the heroine in " Quits," from the moment that the procession with Christ sitting on the ass wound on to the stage, that every interest centred at once in that strangely impressive figure, from which it was impossible to remove the eyes while it remained before them, yet there was not a trace of that harassing and absorbing pain which would have accompanied any illusion, any forgetfulness that what we saw was not an image of the past, but a tragedy maturing in our presence. On the other hand, Henry's fear that there would hardly be enough majesty in the figure, or sufficient elevation above personal mortifications to express the supernatural range of motive essential to the whole, disappeared in a moment. The singular grace of the purple robe did something; but Herr Mair's complete possession by the radical idea of our Lord's life, - an interior life lived with the Father which drew none of its deeper springs from mere earthly circumstance, -gave to a dark face, and tender, speaking eyes, which certainly had enough capacity for expressing, under other other influences, a morbid dejection, a grandeur of mien, and a complete detachment" from all earthly passion which I have never seen, - at least in combination with so much human tenderness, - in any of the painters' ideal Christs. If there were any defect in the representation, it was perhaps that the far-away light in the eyes so entirely predominated that one missed in vividness the flash when it struck either on evil or on good. When, after sliding with inexpressible grace from the ass on which he rode, and entering the outer Court of the Temple, he finds it full of the tables of the money-changers and of those who sold doves, there is perhaps too much of mild serenity in the tone of the severe judgment, "It is written, my Father's house is a house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves." When he asks Judas, Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?" there is not that lightening of the eye for which one looks. And when, bending under the cross, he cries, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. If this is done in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry ?" there is 66 - The crucifixion thrilled, but did not horrify me. The scene opens after the crosses of the crucified malefactors have been already raised on each side. And as the greater cross in the middle, on which Christ is stretched, is slowly elevated into its place, and Mair's head turns painfully round, his eyes resting upon the soldiers immediately beneath him, who are throwing their dice for his unseamed garment, and then on the group of women and disciples standing afar off, a slight shudder ran through the audience, and in all parts of the theatre there were men and women alike unable to restrain their tears. But even then there was no physical horror. The scene was too familiar in the history of Christian art. The living forms of the sol diers and the priests as they pass and repass | the singular loftiness of character beneath, the dying figure, the weeping Magdalen his sagacious deference to popular wishes, with her yellow robe and her long hair and none the less his fundamental scorn for wound round the foot of the cross, the the mob he was so anxious to conciliate, voice which pardons the penitent malefac- could have expressed twenty years ago the tor, asks forgiveness for the mockers, and wonderful spiritual beauty and "detachcommends the mother to the beloved disci- ment " from earthly motives of the Saviour ple, though they vivify the great concep- of mankind. One would have called his face tions of Albert Dürer or Valasquez, and do a cold though by no means a cruel one. something towards bridging the waste of Certainly, with Herr Lang, who took the centuries, do not in the least impose on the part of Herod, any such change of parts spectator. The whole medium of triumph- must have been always quite impossible. ant associations through which you gaze His was a part of selfish and sensual goodand listen, is too strong for that. You are nature and luxurious vanity. He welcomes not conniving at a murder; you are com- Christ as the Czar or Napoleon might have memorating a sacrifice. It is a pity that welcomed Mr. Home, from the appetite for the play does not end here, or that if any physical marvel, and suggests to him one scenes are given after the resurrection, they miracle after another which he would like should not be the walk to Emmaus and the to see performed, treating Christ's unbroken appearance to St. Thomas, which have in silence as indicating imbecility and imposthem so much of human pathos. The scenes ture which are irritating because they have of resurrection and ascension, with their wasted time which he might have spent in somewhat clumsily arranged machinery of amusement and have made him look foolish, miracle, a little mar the wonderful unity of but which it would be ridiculous to treat as the previous effect. justifying death. He sends Jesus away Of the disciples, Peter, John, and Judas with a shrug of the shoulder," John the were given with real power by Jakob Hett, Baptist at least could make kings tremble; Johann Zwink, and Gregor Lechner of - this man is a dumb dog, not to be comwhom the second looked rather "the disci-pared to him for a moment." The contrast ple whom Jesus loved" than the son of between the puppet-king living for pleasure Thunder (Boanerges); while the last, and ostentation, and the working Roman though he made perhaps a little too much Governor could hardly have been more of the greed and avarice of Judas, expressed powerfully given. his despair at the issue of his sin in an atti- But the most unexpected of the imprestude of agony that I can never forget, his sions which the Play made upon me was hand pressed on his forehead with a force that produced by the vivid popular life which brought his elbow above the level of thrown into it. You saw this as well in the his head, and his upturned face gleaming most purely pictorial as in the most exciting white with horror. The curious thing was and clamorous scenes. The tableauxthat all these men were genuine peasants in vivants from the Old Testament, really pictheir speech and demeanor,- not clowns or turesque and brilliant, often contained rude-mannered, but unlearned and igno- many more than a hundred figures, and rant men," while not a vestige of this amongst them considerable numbers of chilorigin hung about their comrades who took dren in attitudes which were never for a the parts of Christ, Pilate, and Herod. moment varied during the three or four indeed, the art shown by Herr Flunger and minutes that they were presented to the Herr Lang, who took respectively the parts spectators. At least, I only once saw a of Pilate and Herod, was marvellous. The mere baby's arm tremble, and the fiery former is the same actor who twenty years sword, which the angel pointed at Adam ago delighted the Baroness Tautpheus so and Eve when driven out of Paradise, wamuch by his representation of Christ. In ver, I think, a moment in its bearer's hand; 1860 he took the part which he acted again and Henry, who saw the whole play again this year, of Pilate. It is hard to conceive when it was repeated on the Monday (I seetwo characters So different. But for ing only a part), reported that Tobit's litMadame Tautphoeus's evidence, it would be tle dog, a wiry terrier of rather a large impossible to conceive that the face which breed, which I had supposed to be stuffed, expressed so powerfully the Roman noble's wagged its tail and ran off as the curtain proud indifference to the superstitions of descended before it was quite hidden from the Jews, his haughty contempt and dislike view. But, for the most part, the artistic for the high priests, his supercilious wonder perfection of very difficult and elaborate at Christ's mysticism and impracticability, tableaux, including great numbers of fighowever modified by a clear recognition ofures of all ages, and for the preparation of which often three or four minutes must | Flunger, and the leader of the orchestra, have been the longest available time, was Herr Gutsjell, with many others, would get really marvellous. Moreover, we heard, in a good year, would be about £12, for and our own experience partly confirmed something like thirty or forty full performit, that the grouping is varied in almost ances (of eight hours each) and innumerevery performance, being left in great able rehearsals through the previous winter. measure to the artistic instinct and training Clearly that is no profit, but a great pecunof the performers. Such a tableau as that iary loss. This year, as the performances of the people of Israel massed together in ended two or three months before the usual the wilderness, where every man, woman, time, I fear they will get nothing; and perand child looks up with awe and joy as the haps the poor actors will be shot before shower of manna descends from heaven,- they feel the need of it. a tableau connected with the gift of the liv- But as to the tendency of the Passion ing bread in the Last Supper, could only | Play, you may ask, was it to produce a have been arranged as it is by a people deeper feeling for Christ, or to fritter feelwhose ancestors had been trained to ar- ing away in picturesque effects? I can only tistic work of this kind, and among whom answer for myself. I admit that in many the tradition had never faded away. But of the audience there were occasionally this popular effect is still more striking in signs of a shallow and empty curiosity. the scenes where the mob of Jerusalem, When the liberated doves flew out of the stirred up by the priests and terrified at the Temple, there was a titter; and there was prospect of Roman vengeance for the an inane disposition to regard Judas as the kingly claims of Christ, howls for the re- comic character of the piece, comic on lease of the ruffian Barabbas (who, clothed account of his failure. When he cast down, in his prison sackcloth, looks on with brutal with every sign of real despair, the thirty enjoyment at the scene), and for the cruci- pieces of silver on the floor of the treasury, fixion of Jesus. After a most exquisite I heard a distinct giggle; and one chit of a piece of music in parts,—the present mu- German girl near us said to her brother, sic, by the way (much of it wonderfully "Ich kann nur lachen" ("I can't help fine, and, I was told by those who know laughing") in a weak, apologetic way, that more of it than myself, very original) was gave me a strong desire to order her off to composed by an Ammergau schoolmaster in bed. But nothing more exalting than the 1810, and no part of it has ever been pub-effect apparently produced on the actors lished, in which the chorus pleads for themselves is easily imaginable. And for the release of Jesus, while the unseen myself, I can only say that when some Suncrowds in the background respond with de- days later I heard in the lesson of the day mands for the release of Barabbas and the St. John's account of the crucifixion, it came most solemn imprecations of the blood of to me with a freshness and power that made our Lord on themselves and their children, my heart beat fast. Again I heard the oaths the scene commences in which they fiercely and jests of the soldiers, saw the high priests urge the crucifixion, and repel with ferocity wagging their wicked grey heads, heard the what seem to be the sneers of the Roman people yelling " We have no king but CæGovernor at their wish to have their King sar," was filled with the majesty of that crucified. There was the effect of a truly thrilling voice which declared, "For this local mob,- of common habits and common end was I born, and for this cause came I origin about the demeanour of the multitude into the world, that I might bear witness to in this scene,— which made its apparent the Truth ;" and caught the half-supercilious, passion infinitely more impressive than that half-sad enigma put by the Roman Goverof any stage crowd I ever saw. It was a nor, "What is truth?" I can only describe people and not a mere company of actors, the general effect produced on my mind as a people swayed by the feeling of vehement the Spanish friar described to Wilkie, when common interests and fears. Henry said gazing in admiration at one of the Last that Mr. Darwin should cite the Ammergau Suppers of Velasquez, how the picture had Play as "a proof of the hereditary accum- so taken possession of his imagination as to ulation of artistic capacities in a selected make the common events of life seem almost race," whatever he meant by that; but it unreal phantoms beside it. The Passion sounds so well, I thought I would mention Play at Ammergau had much the same effect it. None of these people get real profit by on my mind: the play. I was told that the most that players of the first class, Joseph Mair, "It seemed as though these were the living men, And we, the coloured shadows on the wall." |