OF POPULAR LITERATURE Science and Arts. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. No. 8. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1854. A GLANCE AT MY INNER-LIFE. BY A MUSICIAN ON THE CONTINENT. Music, in our time, is nowhere cultivated so earnestly as in Germany. Italy has been called the land of song, of poetry, of art; the great master-pieces of her sculpture and painting still reign-Dante and Tasso yet hold their undisturbed dominion; but it has been long evident that the popularity of her music is fast waning away. Germany is now the great school of music, of criticism, of philosophy; and the nations acknowledge her sovereignty. It has been observed by those who have watched the progress of this change, that the revolution in public taste has nowhere been more sure, and at the same time more gradual, than in England. Some five-and-twenty years ago, London rang with the melodies of the Italian school: Rossini, fêted and flattered, was placed at the head of all ancient and modern masters; Rubini sang; and Paganini played. Slowly this preference faded and declined. People were roused by the picturesque colouring of Weber, and the science of Spohr; Beethoven's spiritual, almost metaphysical, style was recognised and worshipped; the genius of Mendelssohn began to dawn; the unfamiliar name of John Sebastian Bach was listened to with respectful awe; and that of Albrechstberger was heard for the first time beyond the musical circles of Vienna. Pages might be occupied in the investigation of these effects, but the cause may be readily resolved into a mere question of ethics. Italy is the land of physical, Germany of intellectual development. The genius of Italy is radiantly clad, and crowned with the poet's laurel; she murmurs impassioned melodies, and her breath is Love. The presiding spirit of Germany, clad soberly, holds science in her hand, and truth is written on her broad pale brow: her name is Moral Philosophy. So with literature; so with music. She encourages patient study and earnest enthusiasm; the works of her children are a perpetual tribute to Thought and Time; while the syren songs of her southern sister, intoxicating for awhile, pall at last upon the ear. The Sensual-Beautiful is left weeping upon the earth, but the Spiritual-Beautiful journeys onward to the stars. The progress of this great moral change, slow at first, is now daily increasing. London alone furnishes ample evidence; for while the Italian Theatre struggles feebly through successive seasons, innumerable societies, institutions, soirées, and concerts for the performance of classical works, flourish and bear fruit. Not so was it when the southern school had attained the height of its power; when music in Germany was silently growing in strength and perfectness, till the era PRICE 14d. should arrive for its recognition among men; when I, a child of fourteen years of age, left my native country to receive my education in a foreign musical academy. I was born of English parents, but had the misfortune to become an orphan before I could fully appreciate the extent of my loss. A wealthy cousin undertook to provide me with a profession. Arrangements were concluded with the heads of an institution situated in a duchy of Central Germany, which I will call Hohenhausen; a premium was paid for my board, clothing, and instruction during the term of seven years. I was removed from the grammar-school of my native village, and after ten days of weary travelling, arrived at my destination. Here the guardianship of my relative ceased, and I was remembered no more. I received no reply to the letters I repeatedly wrote to him, and after I had been absent about sixteen months, he died. So ended my connection with England, and I had henceforth no prospect but through my own industry and perseverance. Each The Musical Academy was one of the handsomest buildings in the little capital of Hohenhausen. The house was large and imposing, and was surrounded by a courtyard. It contained a concert-room, a library, four class-rooms, a suite of small private apartments for the resident professors, a spacious waiting-room, dormitories for thirty scholars, a large dining-room, and extensive kitchens. Four female servants and two men were kept, besides the porter at the gate. scholar made his own bed immediately before breakfast every morning; and we employed a shoeblack, whose little stall was close at hand, to varnish our boots; but those who could not afford to pay for his services had to perform that office for themselves. A matron attended to the housekeeping, and had especial charge of the female pupils; while a superintendent and librarian exercised the chief authority over the boys. The table was liberally provided, and a medical officer resided in the establishment. So did the masters of harmony, organ, piano, singing, and violin; and the rest of the teachers attended daily. Every year, six of the advanced students were elected as monitors, when it became their duty to attend to the practice of the rest. All branches of the science of music were taught in the academy, but never more than three to any one pupil; and one of these three was always selected for the leading study, to which the other two were deemed subordinate. Thus I learned counterpoint chiefly, and with it the organ and violin. Our sovereign, the reigning Duke of Hohenhausen, honoured the institution by becoming our president, and we had honorary members and subscribers amongst almost all of the courts and crowned heads in the German principalities. We gave annual fêtes, and quarterly concerts, and every year a great examination was held, to which all the chief musicians and amateurs from every quarter were invited. A committee of judgment was then formed of six eminent professors; medals were distributed to the deserving; and the most successful pupil received a laurel wreath, a certificate of merit, and a sum equivalent to L.12 sterling. To obtain this honour, and this almost inexhaustible fortune, became the ruling motive of my life. I was ambitious and industrious; I rose rapidly in the estimation of my teachers; I passed steadily upwards from class to class; and by the time I had been six years a student in the institution, I had obtained four of the annual medals. One year still remained to me, and this I resolved to spend in severe application, with the hope of gaining the laurel crown and the grant from the treasury. I must now mention something of my companions. We had youths from all parts of Germany, some French, and two Spaniards. I was not only the solitary Englishman in the school, but I believe the only English resident in the duchy. It is not, therefore, surprising that I should be less English than German, that I should feel myself almost a stranger in my own country. The number of residents, exclusive of teachers and servants, was limited to thirty; and about ten of this number were girls. But, excepting at meal-times, we were never suffered to meet our class-rooms and lessons were separate, and our acquaintance went no further than an occasional civility at the dinner-table, a dance at the yearly fête, a bow at the examination, or a stolen glance at chapel on the Sundays. Out-pupils were also received; but these attended daily, and their payments were made quarterly. A comfortable waiting-room, overlooking the garden at the back, was at their disposal during the intervals of tuition, where they could read, work, or practise; and those who came from a distance, were permitted to have refreshments sent in from a restaurateur's in the adjoining thoroughfare. There is, perhaps, a musical institution in my native country, and another in the gayest capital of Europe, that might be advantageously remodelled on the principles of our Hohenhausen Academy, and thus accomplish the reform so greatly needed. The accommodation for all was liberal, and thoroughly executed-the government paternal, and the rewards as generous as the resources of the foundation would permit. Franz Kæmpfer was an out-student; he was an undoubted genius, and his compositions had, for two successive years, carried off the great prize I so earnestly desired. We had been friends from the day he first entered the school, which was about a year and a half later than myself; and he had been to me almost an idol. But one day I had poured out to him all my aspirations and my hopes-I resolved to prepare an opera for the last examination at which I should be suffered to attend ; to put my whole soul into my work; to win the crown; and with the wonderful L.12, to journey up to Paris, and offer my piece for representation at the Conservatoire. Franz heard my communication with undisguised surprise and contempt, and from that moment I lost his affection. One day, when I remonstrated with him upon the change, he laughed sarcastically, and bade me do my worst to wrest the prize from himself. 'I have the first | place in the school, Herr Charles,' he said haughtily, and I mean to keep it.' I was grieved, deeply grieved, but not discouraged by this alteration in my friend. Indeed, I think my loss nerved me to greater resolution, and, perhaps, a sentiment of retaliation lurking at the bottom of my heart, may have incited me to humble the arrogant self-sufficiency that would acknowledge no successes but its own. Besides this, I received every encouragement from M. de Savanne, our violin preceptor. He was an old French nobleman, whose property had been confiscated in the revolution, and who, from being one of the most accomplished of amateurs, had become one of the best of teachers. Patient, polite, indulgent, yet firm, he exercised an unbounded sway over his pupils. I had the good fortune to become his favourite élève. He was very poor, yet his appearance was always that of a courtier and a gentleman. I can now see the little diamond brooch in his ample shirt-frill, the massive signet-ring upon his attenuated finger, and the enamelled snuff-box which he carried in his waistcoat-pocket. Dear old M. de Savanne, can it be that thy familiar face and voice are but a memory in my heart? He often invited me to his little apartment in the evening, when the hours of study were past, and would then play duets with me, or sometimes sing little quavering French songs to the accompaniment of an old guitar which he kept under his bed, and which had never been revealed, he assured me, to any eyes but mine. He never mentioned his past history, the fearful events which had bereft him of wealth, rank, and country; but once he shewed me the miniature of his wife, and I remember, as if it were yesterday, how I turned away from the sight of his struggling emotions. Till then, I had never known that he had been married, and he alluded to the subject no more. Now, M. de Savanne became my great prop and consolation. He urged me to spare no toil in the prosecution of my scheme; he placed his room at my disposal, for I could not write as I would wish in the public classes; and he even assisted me in composing the libretto of my opera. We took the Crusades for our subject, and called it Richard Cœur de Lion. Night after night I laboured when the rest had retired; but my undertaking was immense, and the time short for its completion. For the last three days and nights preceding the great event, I never rested from my task; and as the morning of the examination-day dawned grayly into the room, my trembling hand traced the last chord of the concluding chorus, and my opera, fully scored for band and vocalists, was finished as if for performance. I had tasted no food for thirty hours, and not all the persuasions of M. de Savanne could even now induce me to touch a morsel. I made a hasty alteration in my dress, drank half a tumblerful of brandy, and, with my precious manuscripts under my arm, took my place among the candidates in the concert-room. All the students were in attendance, and the examination was protracted till a late hour in the evening. Franz sat apart from the rest, with an expression of insolent assurance on his handsome face; and being one of the first to go up, was graciously received, and returned to his place with the evident conviction that his triumph was secure. I was one of the last examined, and when my turn arrived, I was utterly exhausted. I laid my opera upon the table. Glances of surprise were exchanged between the judges, CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. for no work more considerable than a symphony, or at the most a cantata of some three or four movements, had ever before been submitted to them by a competitor. For nearly an hour they were occupied in turning over the leaves, while I stood pale, trembling, and wearied out; for the rules did not permit a candidate to be seated during examination. At last they reached the end, and without expressing one word of praise or blame, desired me to go down, and the next student succeeded me. The business went on, but my head began to swim; I no longer heard or saw, and my veins seemed throbbing with fire. Then came a stira confusion-a silence; I heard, but had no power to reply to the voice of the usher calling me by name. Then M. de Savanne made his way over to me, and, taking me by the arm, led me forward. An elderly man with a portly presence, a red ribbon, and a jewelled order at his breast, rose and addressed me; but I could He advanced, not seize the meaning of his words. took a wreath of laurel leaves from the table, and descending the first step of the platform, laid it upon my brow, and placed a paper in my hand. 'Have you nothing to reply?' whispered M. de 'Do you Savanne, shaking me violently by the arm. It is Spohr!-the great Doctor know who it is? Spohr!' But the certificate fluttered from my nerveless grasp, and I fell heavily upon the floor! I had fainted! Twelve days after this I started for Paris. My term had expired at the Academy about a week after the examination, and I instantly engaged a place in the next diligence for my journey. I parted with tears from M. de Savanne, and as I left his presence he forced three golden ducats into my hand. How well I knew the privation he would suffer from the gift, yet I dared not to refuse it! overpowered with fatigue and admiration, I shrank into Could My journey from Hohenhausen to Paris appears to me even now like a dream. I eagerly watched, yet scarcely remembered, the country through which I passed, so much was I distracted between the novelty of my present position, and the golden future my Possessed of my opera, imagination bodied forth. the sum of thirteen pounds ten shillings English, and the enthusiasm of twenty-one years of age, I felt endowed with an immortality of wealth and happiness, and took no heed of locality or time. My route lay through Holland and Belgium. There were now railways in many parts of France, and leaving Antwerp on the Saturday, I arrived in Paris at five o'clock on a bright autumnal Sunday morning. I was not long delayed in the custom-house, for all my luggage consisted of my precious manuscripts, my violin, and my valise. With these under my arm, I went forth from the station, and found myself in a new world-in the bright, dazzling, tree-lined boulevards of Paris! It had been my intention to seek lodgings immediately, but I forgot everything on beholding the wonders around me. The morning air was very clear; the sun shone vividly upon the tall white houses, with their jalousies and gilt balconies; theatres, shops, pleasure-gardens, and hotels, not yet opened, lined the great thoroughfares; columns, palace-like buildings, fountains, and churches, were passed in never-ending succession! At last I came to the front of a superb edifice, surrounded with pillars, and with statues of saints standing in niches round A noble flight of steps led up to the the walls. entrance, and a gilt cross surmounted the frieze. This was the Madeleine. The doors were just being opened, and an old sacristan, in a black serge gown, was placing the chairs in order for the matin-service. I went in. Several women were sweeping the floors, and some young acolytes were placing fresh flowers on the altar. The golden decorations, the gorgeous paintings on the ceiling, the chapels with their statues and wax-I still in all worldly matters, and so little did I calculate lights at the sides, all conspired to increase my dreamy joy. I gazed and wandered round and round; till, After wandering through many broad and brilliant thoroughfares, I came at last upon a cluster of narrow streets, branching off through a massive stone gateway from the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre. This little nook was called the Cité Bergère, and there I found several houses, with the notice of apartments to let suspended from over the doors. There were two men in blouses sitting outside the entrance to one of these houses, with a little table between them, playing cards. A woman with an infant stood just within the hall, and a cat was purring close beside their feet. I stood still for some moments and observed them, but they were so absorbed in their game, that I remained unnoticed. The faces of both were dark, honest, and good-humoured; the picture was pleasant and domestic, and I resolved to address them. My inquiries for an apartment were instantly listened to by the younger to shew monsieur the unlet rooms, bowed profoundly, There ouvrier with respectful attention. He desired his wife and resumed his seat, his pipe, and his game. were chambers on the second, third, and fifth story vacant; all varying in price, according to their altiThe first-named was too expensive for my tude. modest means, and the last I thought scarcely good enough for the composer of an historical opera, with a certificate of merit, and a store of golden ducats in his pocket; so I engaged a single apartment on the third story, for which I agreed to pay twelve francs a week, with attendance and linen included. Such a child was I scarcely observed my room; but entering immehow long my scanty finances would be likely to endure! diately into possession, threw myself hastily upon the bed, and slept profoundly. It was long past noon the next day when I awoke. The sun was shining in upon my eyes, and the air bore the early chill of autumn. I rose and inspected the details of my little home; admired the ormolu time-piece, the ornamental candlesticks on my chimney-piece, the little writing-table in the window, the chiffonnière with its marble top, the two easy-chairs, the pretty French-bed with its chintz hangings, and the pots of geranium placed outside the balcony. I was delighted with everything I saw, and thought myself the happiest fellow in the world! This day I resolved to call upon the manager of the Opera Française; and taking my precious work, inquired my way to the theatre. I reached the doors in the Rue Lepelletier; the entrance was crowded with gentlemen and livery-servants engaging places for the evening entertainment; and it was with difficulty that I could obtain a hearing from the keeper of the box-office, or make him comprehend that I desired an audience of the manager. He was busy, and his tone hasty and selfimportant. Monsieur had better come at an earlier hour the next day. At present, M. B—— was engaged. Had monsieur any very special letter of introduction? I replied in the negative, and was proceeding to state my business, when he turned his back abruptly, and commenced speaking to some one else. Once more I tried to address him, but he scarcely deigned me a reply; and, humbled and disconcerted, I drew away, and the next moment found me in the street. I could not conceal from myself that I felt abashed and disappointed; yet I was not seriously uneasy at my first rebuff, and was soon strolling along as lighthearted and enjoying as before. Again I found my way to the Louvre, and spent the whole day in a trance of admiration amid the world of new life that opens upon us, from the priceless works that line its walls with 'riches fineless.' Leaving there, I dined at a brilliant restaurateur's in the Palais-Royal, and at night strolled into one of the theatres. I was hardly familiar enough with the language thoroughly to follow the business of the pieces; but I comprehended enough to enjoy the entertainment heartily, and I returned at night to my lodgings very tired and very happy. The next day I went to the theatre, and was refused an audience, on the pretence that M. B- was absent. Still I staved off the doubts that were gathering over my mind. The next day I went again, but with the same result-and the next after that. The fourth time I was treated by the officials with absolute rudeness-they laughed together before my face, and as I entered, said one to another: Voilà, voilà, see the monsieur with the parcel of music!' Almost broken-hearted, I turned away; but I yet hoped that all was not hopeless. I had chosen the hour badly I had not been sufficiently explicit in my statement-I had not mentioned the certificate of merit! The last thought was a brilliant one; I turned back again instantly, and making my way once more to the bureau des loges, begged timidly, but with profound deference, to be allowed to explain to monsieur that I was a pupil of the Hohenhausen Academy of Music; that I had received the laurel crown, and been honoured with their certificate of merit. My communication was hailed by a burst of laughter from the loungers, and an angry sacré from the keeper of the office. How shall I confess it? I was ordered to the door, and threatened with the gendarmerie if ever I ventured to return! Burning with shame and indignation, I left the place with as much dignity as I could assume, and, hastening to the gardens of the Tuileries, walked to and fro amid the shady alleys of limes and chestnut-trees, till I had somewhat regained my equanimity. This time I was not so much disheartened as angry. Was I, a musician, a gentleman, to be thus treated? I felt within myself the power to command respect—to earn distinction; and my blood boiled at the indignities to which I had been subjected. I resolved to write to M. B——, acquainting him with my treatment, stating the motive which had induced me to request an audience, naming my qualifications, and at the same time enclosing my opera for his perusal. I hastened home to the Cité Bergère, and after destroying five letters in succession, at last produced one which I fondly deemed a very model of eloquence, modesty, and respectful remonstrance. I was too proud to make my appearance again in the Rue Lepelletier, so I engaged a commissionaire, or public messenger, to carry the parcel. This done, I felt relieved and happier. My Richard Cœur de Lion was now fairly launched upon the world, and I again indulged in sanguine hopes of prosperity. But for some days I had observed with anxiety that my expenses were great, and that my store of money was rapidly diminishing. I now sought a cheaper restaurateur's, and made up my mind to relinquish all theatrical or public amusements that must be purchased with money. So I dined at an humble establishment on the Quai des Orfèvres for ninety centimes, in the company of ouvriers and grisettes; and limited my daily recreations to the promenades, the churches, the Louvre, and the free exhibitions. Still my little store melted away from my fingers; I could no longer close my eyes to the black prospects before me; and I often sat for hours under the trees in the public gardens, gloomily brooding over the poverty by which I must speedily be overtaken. Another long, long week passed on, and yet no reply arrived from M. BI grew sick at heart, and no longer placed faith in the excuses with which I strove to account for his silence. It was in vain that I said: 'He is busy; he needs time to reflect upon so considerable a work; it is better that he should not decide too hastily. Alas! my heart rejected the hollow comfort which my head devised; and when the third week's rent of my lodging had been paid, I found but eighteen francs remaining in my purse. I went up to my chamber, after settling with my landlady, and sat down on the edge of my bed in utter despair. The next week's rent would be twelve francs more, which just left me six for my board, and when that was gone- The thought was madness! At last, from the depths of my grief, a hope suggested itself to me. I had written nothing since my arrival in Paris-suppose that I composed some light attractive dance-music, and offered it for sale at one of the music-shops! A sunbeam of hope seemed to dawn over me; but first of all I arranged with Madame Lemercier, my hostess, that I should leave my pretty room, and occupy a garret on the sixth floor, at four francs a week. I instantly moved up; my possessions, which consisted only of my travelling-bag and violin, went with me in my hand. The room was clean, but cold and ill-furnished: a deal-table stood in the centre; a narrow uncurtained bed in one corner; and a chest of drawers and a couple of chairs completed the decora tions. Here I sat down to write. Not an idea could I summon to my aid, and leaning my head forwards upon my hands, I stared hopelessly upon the blank musicpaper. Suddenly a little sparrow perched on the sill of my attic-window, and peeping timidly in upon me, twittered a tiny note of welcome. The tears rushed over my eyes; a thousand recollections and emotions filled my heart; a stream of melody seemed to flow over my soul; and in an hour I had sketched a couple of light and brilliant waltzes for pianoforte and violin. I took my hat and my compositions, and was about to go instantly in quest of a purchaser. Just as I reached the door of my chamber, I heard again the twitter of the friendly sparrow. I turned back, and taking the last piece of my breakfast-roll from my pocket, crumbled it upon the window-ledge: 'Come, little friend,' I said with a faint smile, 'come, and eat thy fill! To thee I owe my work, and so long as I have food for myself, CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. thou shalt never want for a breakfast!' I then closed the window, and retreated. Presently he ventured back again, and I left him enjoying the feast. That day I went to seven music-shops, and not one of the publishers would even suffer me to leave my waltzes for approbation. Paris, they said, was overstocked with dance-music; there was no sufficient profit now upon the sale of works to enable them to pay unknown composers, &c. The next day I tried one or two more, but with no better fortune. At last I gave myself up to a dreamy hopelessness: sometimes I would lie all day upon my bed; sometimes I wandered restlessly about the streets, as if seeking something, I knew not what. Another week gone, and still no The worst was come; letter from the Conservatoire ! At last a and nothing but starvation was before me. terrible day dawned, when my last sou was gone, and The weather was a few chestnuts were all I had left. bitterly cold, and the wind howled dismally round the upper stories of the houses. I had no fire-no food. I remained in bed for warmth, and strove to sleep, that I might escape from the pangs of hunger. In the afternoon I could resist the enemy no longer, and I ate the remaining chestnuts with avidity. Still these did not suffice for my necessity. A deeply humiliating alternative suggested itself to my mind, and though I dismissed it many times, it kept returning with tenfold strength, and at last was no longer to be resisted. I rose from my bed; dressed myself hastily; drew my hat over my eyes; and taking my violin under my arm, went feebly down the staircase, out into the streets, and in the direction of the Champs Elysées. It was night. The promenade was brilliant with lights from cafes and exhibitions; actors were performing in the little alfresco theatres; the gardens of the restaurants were filled with people; bands were playing; lotteries, fruit-stalls, and merry-go-rounds were fully occupied; and throngs of well-dressed people were strolling in the avenues of trees, and along the broad paths beside the carriage-drives. Tears of shame and pride were stealing down my cheeks. I took up my station beside a group of elms, and drew my bow across the strings. With the first note, I seemed to wake as if from a cruel dream; I shuddered; I replaced the instrument in the case: No!' I cried half-audibly, 'I will die first!' And I thought of dying, too, as I hurried from the place. I wandered up to the Pont Louis XVI., and gazed down, with an undefinable longing for peace, into the dark waters of the Seine. Then I turned away, and about midnight re-entered the gates of the Cité Bergère. Slowly, slowly I toiled up the weary staircase; slowly I entered my cheerless attic, and heavily I dropped into a chair.... Heavens!-a letter! seize it-tear it open-can scarcely read it for anxiety! The blood rushes to my cheeks-suddenly the writing becomes confused-my eyes are blinded with hot tears, and, sobbing loudly in my joy, my head drops upon the table, and I yield to my emotions like a child! My opera is accepted! my opera is accepted! There is a great deal more than this in the letter: M. Boffers me three thousand francs for my work, and politely laments the rudeness of his servants; but all this is nothing to me: I neither read nor heed it-my opera is accepted, and that is all I care for in the world! Soon my wild intoxication of delight subsides; a sense of deep peace and gratitude pervades my heart; I sink upon my knees, and, thanking the Giver of this blessing, pray fervently for strength to bear my happiness, and guidance to employ it with humility and worthiness. Happy night!-pain, anxiety, hunger, all forgotten and unfelt! Happy sleep, and still more happy day break! The next morning, at an early hour, I waited on M. B at his private residence, and received from him an advance of five hundred francs for my immediate necessities. It now only remains for me to add, that Richard Cœur de Lion proved himself as successful a My fourth dramatic composition is now in progress; THE ONYX AND THE CAMEO. FEW productions of art are more delicately beautiful than cameos, or, as some writers give the plural, camei. It is sometimes thought that a medal or medallion, or a similarly engraved article in relievo, is necessarily a cameo; but there is a needless confusion of terms It is understood that, in a good cameo, here. Cameo has a special meaning, and a very pretty meaning too. the ground shall be of a different tint from the raised device; and the difficulty is, to find a substance which presents this difference. It will not suffice to paint the cameo, as a means of producing the diversity; this would be a sham, a factitious and imitative affair, having no value in the eyes of a person of taste. In olden times, the cameo engravers always employed gems or valuable stones, selected with especial reference to variations in tint; but the cheap cameos of modern days are made of shell, and the still cheaper imitations, of glass. The onyx appears to have been more generally selected than any other gem-obviously in consequence of the very remarkable tints which it presents. The true onyx of the mineralogist does not mark the limit of application; for the engravers give the same name to other stones which, though mineralogically different, are, in structure and appearance, very similar. The two chief kinds employed are the sardonyx and the carnelian onyx. The use of such stones for such a purpose is of so high antiquity, that no one can be truth in the supposition that the art was invented safely name the period of its introduction. There may in India, thence introduced into Egypt, and thence copied by the Jews, who practised it after the Exodus from Egypt. Be that as it may, the numerous passages in the Bible relating to engraved stones and jewels are well known, and point to the existence of the art among the Israelites. Onyx-stones and stones to be set in the Ephod, and in the breast-plate of the highpriest,' are among the gifts which the people were commanded to bring to the tabernacle. Moses was also commanded to take two onyx-stones, and engrave of the twelve tribes-six on the one, and six on the on them the names of the children of Israel, or rather other. The instructions are very precise, for they relate to the work of an engraver in stone, like the engravings on a signet.' It is true that this does not necessarily imply a production analogous to a cameo, since it may have been engraved in intaglio or sunken lines, instead of in relief. So far as can at present be judged, the Hindoos, Egyptians, Hebrews, and Persians, chiefly valued their engraved stones for the written or hieroglyphic characters wrought on them; but the more refined Greeks aimed at higher results-they sought to render their engraved stones works of art, and it was then only, properly speaking, that true cameos were produced. When heads and figures were introduced upon the gems, the fancy of the Greeks had at once a wide field opened for its exercise. The |