presence now inspires ordinary persons only with disgust.
A naturalist who devotes himself to eating such creatures
with a motive so philanthropic deserves our praise,
though we may not be able to personally imitate his
heroic example. Among the choice dishes mentioned
by one paper as selected to figure at the first public
banquet of M. Lespars are a plate of white worms, a
bushel of grasshoppers, and a broil of magpies seasoned
with the slugs that infest certain green berries.
One regards this announcement with more or less incredulity;
but little doubt seems to hang over the assertion
that the dormouse has just been introduced into the
list of French game-dishes. The puzzle for the
cooks seems to be with regard to the proper sauce
for the new delicacy; but this matter does not trouble
the little chimney-sweeps, who find the animal so long
associated in poetry and in fact chiefly with their
own humble career, now rising to the dignity of game,
and commanding a price for the table. Piedmont
has thus far furnished the larger part of the displays
of
marmottes in Paris stalls. The chief
trouble in making rats, magpies and other delicacies
of that sort really popular amongst the poorer classes
is that the latter do not possess adroit cooks to
disguise the original flavor under aromatic adjuncts,
nor yet the money to buy the necessary spices and
side-dishes, nor the high grade of champagne wines
with which the wealthy and noble patrons of “food
reform” commonly wash down unpalatable viands.
LITERATURE OF THE DAY.
Rousseau. By John Morley. 2 vols. London:
Chapman & Hall.
It was in the natural course of things that modern
criticism, ever aiming at a wider comprehension, a
keener analysis, a greater independence of judgment
and expression, should test itself anew on a subject
affording so full a scope and so sure a touchstone
as the life and writings of Rousseau. The character
of Rousseau, with its strange blending of delicate
beauty and repulsive infirmity, requires to be handled
with the firm but tender and sympathetic touch which
the nurse or the physician lays upon a child afflicted
with sores. His career, with its alternations
of obscurity and conspicuousness, of tumult and torpidity,
of wretchedness and rapture, must be followed with
an eye keen to detect the springs and alive to the
subtle play of circumstance and impulse. His
influence, if not more profound, more varied, extensive
and direct than that of any thinker and writer since
Luther, is to be traced in the whole history of his
own and of later times, under manifold aspects and
amid momentous changes of spirit and of form.
In the case of most men who have helped to mould the
ideas and direct the tendencies of an age, it would
be difficult to determine what each has contributed
to the general result, or to say with certainty that
the work performed by one would not, if he had been
wanting, have been equally accomplished by others.