LONDON IN AND OUT OF SEASON.

Press, Volume XLVI, Issue 7345, 25 June 1889, Page 6

LONDON IN AND OUT OF SEASON.

[raois OTA CORB_—•ONDBNT.] LONDON, May 3. THE QUEEN'S EASTEB EXCUBSION.

The Queen chose Easter Tuesday for her visit to Sandringham, which she has not seen for seventeen years, her last visit being on the occasion of the Prince's serious illness. Various functions took place, which, however exciting to those concerned at the time, are not very interesting to read next day in the papers. The most noteworthy thing in connection with the trip was the performance of " The Bells" and the Trial Scene from "The Merchant of Venice" by the Lyceum company on Friday at the Prince's "Theatre Boyal." Mr Irving and his company (sixty in all) travelled down in the afternoon, and returned at two o'clock in the morning. Of course he and his looked upon the "command" to appear as a great compliment, and he wa3 quite content to go, though the closing of the Lyceum for the evening entailed a loss of —100. The exact payment to actors authorised by law on the occasion of performances before Royalty, is, I believe, 13s 4d per head, so that even if that sum were paid, Mr Irving would be a great deal out of pocket. But the chances are that it was not paid, and I believe that it is a fact that the whole of the expenses were borne by Mr Irving. He does not object, and is proud of the diamond ring given him by the Queen. It is of course a good advertisement, and a similar visit to Balmoral by Mr Edward Bruce in the "Colonel" some years ago absolutely made that actor's future. Bat I doubt whether Mr Irving needed the advertisement. THE HALLUCINATIONS OF THE EMPRESS OF AUSTRIA. We are told (though the statement has been contradicted) that the Empress Elizabeth of Austria is subject to strange hallu cinations at present. The Paris Figaro states that she is now in Wiesbaden, inhabiting a villa outside the town, gnarded by police agents. It will be remembered that the Empress is a cousin of the unfortunate King Louis of Bavaria, and insanity is pretty clearly proved to run in the family -the most rational explanation of the Crown Prince's suicide. During the last century there have been in fact as many as twenty-seven cases of insanity in the Bavarian Boyal family. The present King is a lunatic, like his predecessor. The hallucinations of the Empress are said to be long standing and not to date merely from the death of her pon. For years her Majesty never passed a night at the Boyal Palace of Vienna, and she used to fancy that she was pursued by the spectre of Maria Theresa. After the death of Louis 11., of Bavaria, the hallucinations to which the Empress was subjected have assumed one special character. She fancied that King Louis appeared before her and that the waters flowed from his garments in such volume as to endanger her life. She used to scream for help, and then become insensible. Her last year's stay in Corfu did her \dajesty much good, and, in fact, she endured only one crisis there. When the Empress learnt the death of the Archduke Rudolph a new hallucination took possession of her—that she was her son's murderer. Her Majesty's disease assumed a violent character when the Court moved to Pesth. She would not see her physicians, and clothed herself in ecclesiastical vestments. She refused to take food, and her attendants were obliged to fasten her hands. The Figaro states that the acute stage of the disease has passed, leaving a softening of the brain. THE EASTEB HOLIDAYS. Very bright weather reigned on Good Friday, and it continued fairly fine till Tuesday. On the whole, holiday-makers had little cause to grumble, and there, seems to have been no desire to do so. Judging from the statistics, the people thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Here are a few interesting figures which tell their own tale. On Easter Monday in all over 50,000 people visited Epping Forest,and spread through its pleasant capacious glades; thirty-five specials ran to the Crystal Palace, which was tenanted by over 40,000 people. A similar number were at the Alexandra Palace. Over 100,000 people crowded out to Hampstead Heath and Parliament Hill alone, while 40,000 had visited Kew Gardens by four o'clock. Hampton Court saw 25,000 visitors during the day, while Windsor Castie was shown to 11,156 people, the largest number ever visiting the Castle in one day. Thirtytwo thousand passed the turnstiles at the "Zoo," 11,000 inspected the Tower of London, 12,000 visited the Natural History Museum at South Kensington, 17,000 the South Kensington Museum, 19,0 X) Madame Tussaud's, 10,000 the People's Palace, 7000 the Bye House, and 350 D went, to see "Niagara." These are but a few of the resorts, but the figures are somewhat overwhelming to one who tries to measure London in her holiday mood.

THE SEASON AND ITS LIONS. We are now supposed to be beginning our season. I may " suppose," for although the pretty spring we are having has forced on social functioas, yet more and more, year by year, the season tends to delay initiation, and we are really not in the midst of gaiety till the end of May. Society must have its "lions"—one year Buffalo Bill, another Oscar Wilde and so on; this year we have one or two to dis • pute for the mastery. A French paper gravely informs us that General Boulanger is to be present at a dinner to be given by Mrs Leo-Hunter. This is more than likely. If the General will " como out" (and it is highly probably he will) he will be extremely lionised by that lady and her fellows. On Tuesday I was at the Grosvenor private view, and the cry was raised " Boulanger comes." People - flocked into the portico till the crusi was abominable. Files of ladies in gay and rich attire stood patiently as Peris outside Paradise, but alas, he came not. Per haps he is well-advised in delaying his coming, that expectancy may stand on tiptoe. Yet he must be careful, for already the horizon is illumined by another sun. "Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns ?" exclaim i King John. Society will also exclaim after this fashion, for we are to have the Shah in June, and the Secretary of the Boyal Geographical Society whispers to mc that Stanley is expected home in the beginning of June. I doubt the date, but the fact of his coming seems certain as definite arrangements have been made for his reception at the British Association meeting later in the year. Even the Shah will pale before Stanley, and poor Boulanger will sink into insignificance. Mrs Leo Hunter will revel at the possibilities of this season's feast, and the presence of three luminaries will go far to atone for the absence of one last year. PRIVATE VIEWS. This has been a week of private viewp. Tuesday was the Grosvenor, Wednesday the New Gallery, and to-day the Academy. I have not seen the Academy, but the display at the New Gallery is quite up to the mark, while the Grosvenor is falling from its pinnacle. The people (one never looks at the pictures at a private view) were not remarkably " smart" this year, and it is plain that the glory has departed from Sir Coutts Lindsay's gallery. An old friend of New Zealand people I saw traversing the rooms in quiet splendour, namely, Mils Lingard, and of other actors and actresses there were plenty, to wit, the Terrys, Mrs Bernard Beere, Toole, Grossmith, and so forth. Mr, Shannon's lovely portraits are the most conspicuous pictures at the Grosvenor. He bids fair to become a second Bichmond in the softness and delicacy of his tones. Sir John Millais shows "Shelling Peas"—pretty ; enough, but we are getting somewhat weary of Sir John's pot-boilers. Poor Pettie, B. A., has quite gone off, and his portrait of Eider Haggard is somewhat pitiful. Mr Goodall has a much better picture than he usually exhibits nowadays, and Mr Margetson has

an ambitious and not satisfactory study of Miss Terry as Lady Macbeth. THE EASTER BROOD AT THE THEATRES. Round about Easter circle a newlyhatched brood of new plays, some terribly poor, others good. " Lancelot the Lovely, or the Idol of the King," is a weary, dreary burlesque of the "Idylls of the King," which is enlivened by Arthur Roberts' inimitable vagaries . and the vulgar leg exercise of Mdlle Vanoni. The Avenue theatregoers shriek with laughter, but so they would if Arthur Roberts simply brushed his hat or ate his dinner. The Garrick Theatre was opened last week by Mr John Hare with Mr Pinero's new piece called "The Profligate." This is a very powerful play,—too lacrymose, certainly, and acted a- trifle too melodramatically, yet interesting, and by far the best piece of work placed on the stage for some time. Mr Pmero has in it abandoned almost all his humor, and set himself to tell a dismal tale of human wrong, innocent faith, and disillusionment. The catastrophe is telling and highly trying. The caste might be with advantage stronger and the gloom need not be so oppressive ; the play is, on the whole, excellent, and sure of a run. What gloom can do for a play by a capable dramatist was shown by the lamentable failure of "Wealth " at the Haymarket on Saturday. Mr Jones was illadvised in writing a one part play—always wearisome—and Mr Beerbohm Tree was foolish in desiring it. The piece was an entire fiasco, and will not run more than a week or so, and that at a loss. The best thing Mr Tree can do is to revive "Captain Swift," which was in the heyday of its popularity when he displaced it by the " Merry Wives Of Windsor." A GIPSY ROMANCE. Here is a story quite in the ancient style of romance which the dirt and dust of reality have been past destroying. At Eastbourne last week a remarkable elopement case was investigated. Mr Smith, a wood merchant, charged Andrew Dighton, a young gipsy, with unlawfully eloping with his daughter Caroline. Mr Smith stated that his daughter was under eighteen years of age, and had manifested a strange passion for the young gipsy, who is a good looking youth about her own age. Mrs Smith .sent her daughter out shopping, but instead, she went to Dighton and urged her gipsy lover to elope with her from Eastbourne. He strongly refused, but Caroline pleaded so passionately with him that he was forced to. submit, and they left the town secretly, taking with them a small tent. They could not pitch this the first night, so the lovers sought shelter under a hedge. They tramped day after day, and camped out at night in the Sussex lanes.

The runaways passed on through Kent, followed by their, father and the police, but it was not until the gill was found living with Dighton in the tent on Plumstead Marshes that the detective caught up with them. There Miss Smith and her sweetheart protested strongly against returning here, and Dighton was arrested. The Magistrate discharged the gipsy, who pleaded that the girl had proposed and urged the elopement against his will, and that he did not know she was under eighteen. Caroline did not allow her adventures to reßt, even with the termination of the case, for a scene in the streets followed the discharge of the gipsy. The girl struggled violently to free herself from her father's grasp, and loudly appealed to be allowed to join Dighton at his tent. The girl's excitement and cries created much sympathy amongst the crowd that witnessed the incident. LITERARY JOTTINGS. Sir John Lubbock's "Pleasuresof Life," Part 11., has been issued by Macmillan, and from the preface we learn that, thirteen editions of the first part were published in two years. This is really incredible, and shows what an author's name will do for a book. The " Pleasures of Life " is wearisomely trite, and the uppermost thought in reading it is the pity of it that so intelligent and industrious, and withal so genial a worker amid bees, ants and such like, should have,—>ken pen in hand to transcribe philosophy. «j_t is literally " transcribe," for»—le grea^rfps-*'^—lr"John's book is quotation, and quotation from every conceivable source, displaying an amount of culture and reading which is rarely equalled, more especially by a man of science. Sir John is very fond of poetry, and that his taste is certainly good, none will deny. But one does'nt need an alluringly philosophically-entitled book for the purpose of coming across quotations ; one looking for something original, for something rare in style, if not acute and shrewd in matter, and the "Pleasures of Life " lacks both style and matter of any consequence, jlt may certainly be boaght and read—the success of the first part proves that there are people to buy it at least — but one can only regret, after reading it, that Sir John had not given us a volume on bees instead.

More libraries! Messrs Ward, Lock and Co. have entered the lists with a popular library, called this time the Minerva Library, and the first volume has just been to wit,? Darwin's " Journal of a Voyage Bound the World." This is the sort of ■. book which one. feels Sir John Lubbock should have written. Spite of his labbriousness, nay probably because of his laboriousness, Darwin is always interesting reading, and one needs not to be scientifically disposed to sit down to this handsome volume, full of pleasant gossip about strange peoples and carious creatures. Two shillings is the price of the book, and it well worth the money, the explanation of -the cheapness being the recent expiry of the copyright. Mr Bider Haggard goes to Assyria shortly for his. next story. I wonder if this is to be the sequel of " She." I remember his telling mc that he thought Thibet or somewhere in the East would furnish a good sequel to that fantastic story; and so I should not be surprised if the next volume (after the Icelandic novel) proved to 'deal with the further adventures of " My Holly" and " Leo."

Mr Joseph Thomson's new book on Morocco, where he did * ondrous feats last year, is to be published in a-fortnight, and about the same time will appear the new series of sketches by that rising genius, Mr J. M. Barrio, called " A Window in Thurms."