later, when he had had time to think independently, he discovered a more spiritual beauty and harmony in the new dispensation than in the old; and, extreme in all things, he plunged with such ardor into the battle against the past, that he became the leader among the enthusiastic young fellows who wanted to tear down the sky of their fathers and build a fresh one in its place. He had the valuable trait of believing profoundly in himself, and of being able to see but one side of a question at a time. Common sense was a quality of which he knew nothing; he was a poet first of all, and he tried in perfect good faith to turn poetry into politics, and to make the facts of daily life rhyme together like the stanzas of an ode. The foundations of old beliefs having been overthrown, people were prepared to believe or disbelieve in anything never was there a time when original gospels stood a better chance of finding disciples. Hugo was carried along on the crest of a wave which he imagined he himself had created; whereas, in truth, he had no more to do with producing or directing it than has the fly on the wheel. But his quick sympathies enabled him spontaneously to do and say better than the others the things which were in the thoughts and the purposes of the epoch; so he was accepted as the leader which he announced and fancied himself to be. His undoubted gifts rendered the illusion complete; and he really was inspired to achievements which would else have been impossible to him, by the exciting and stimulating atmosphere in which his career was accomplished.

Had he confined himself to literature he would have escaped many mistakes, and have left behind him a far more consistent and reasonable record. He was really the most prominent figure of the romantic school in France; though we now know that others-as, for example, Balzac—were greater than he; his poems, novels and plays had immense vogue, and some of his poetry, at least, is sure to stand the test of time. But he was impelled to make himself his most dramatic and adventurous character; and his utter lack of the sense of humor hurried him into not a few preposterous follies and absurdities. He posed as the unrelenting foe of the Third Napoleon; and when that monarch was overthrown,

Hugo no doubt thought that it was his sword that had hewn him down. He fell, in short, into the common error of ardent natures of fancying himself the motive power of events which swept him helplessly whither he knew not.

Eloquence, a royal imagination, versatility, artistic perception, and a rush and fury of conviction almost unparalleled, were the characteristics of his literary productions, the list of which would fill a closely printed page. His power of portraying character was great, his descriptive power enormous, and the magnitude of his conceptions was only equalled by the indomitable energy with which he carried them out. He had the faculty of creating interest in his reader; and though one's judgment and sense of reality is constantly outraged, it is impossible to resist his spell, once we come under its influ"Les Miserables" and "L'Homme qui Rit" are truly superb romances, and full of lofty and inspiring thought. His poems have an exquisite melody and completeness which we do not readily find in the verse of any other French author. Several of his dramas, such as "Le Roi S'amuse," hold the stage to-day. Yet almost all that he has done needs much sifting; and when the final criticism is made, it will be found that his total permanent contribution to literature is very much smaller than the catalogue would pretend.

ence.

Though he had contributed much to the revival of the Napoleonic cult, he was an earnest Republican, and after the coup d'état of 1851 he was banished from France. He was for many years a political exile in the Channel Islands, and there a great amount of his best work was done. His domestic life was happy and honorable; his life was prolonged beyond the common span, for he died at eighty-three. His closing years were spent in the Paris which he loved and had done much to honor; and the sensation of his death could be compared with that caused by the demise of Voltaire. His egotism was naïve and amiable, and belonged to his French temperament; he did much good in his day, and his aims were at all times pure, elevated and righteous. But he was less gigantic than he and his contemporaries supposed.

THE DJINNS.

ACCORDING to Mohammedan belief, the Djinns (also called jinns or genii) are beings like devils, created of fire. Their abode is Mount Oâf, which surrounds the earth. Part only of this ode, which represents, by a metrical device, the approach and departure of the dreaded spirits of fire, is given.

Hark, the rising swell,
With each nearer burst!
Like the toll of bell
Of a convent cursed;
Like the billowy roar
Ou a storm-lashed shore,-
Now hushed, now once more
Maddening to its worst.

O God! the deadly sound
Of the Djinns' fearful cry!
Quick, 'neath the spiral round
Of the deep staircase fly!
See, see our lamplight fade!
And of the balustrade

Mounts, mounts the circling shade
Up to the ceiling high!

"T is the Djinns' wild streaming swarm
Whistling in their tempest-flight;
Snap the tall yews 'neath the storm,
Like a pine-flame crackling bright.
Swift and heavy, lo, their crowd
Through the heavens rushing loud,
Like a livid thunder-cloud
With its bolt of fiery night!

Ha! they are on us, close without!
Shut tight the shelter where we lie!
With hideous din the monster rout,
Dragon and vampire, fill the sky!
The loosened rafter overhead
Trembles and bends like quivering reed;
Shakes the old door with shuddering dread,

As from its rusty hinge 't would fly!