582 



♦ KNOWLEDGE • 



[May 12, 1882. 



trusted. If \vc Ijogin our pxaniination of tlic works at the 

 Royal Acadoiny witli reference to tliis point, wo find, even 

 in .some of tlie works of the best artists, errors which arc 

 (liniiiilt to account for. Kor instance, in Sir V. Leighton's 

 (liariiiing "Day Dreams" (.TG, llooin I), tlio outer carpal 

 lione of the right hand is incorrectly represented. We do 

 not bay that it is not often so shaped. On the contrary, 

 the deformity, for such it unquestionably is (though a slight 

 one), is common enough. Possibly Sir F. Leighton's 

 model, however beautiful in other respects, had a wrist 

 thus malformed ; but ther(! was no occasion to reproduce 

 the defect in an ideal painting. In his " Wedded " (71, 

 same room), the lady's unhappy expression seems justified 

 by the exceedingly unsatisfactory anatomical develop- 

 ment of her joung spouse, the muscles of v.'hose limbs 

 are without depth or fulness, and little more than 

 surface markings. His more pretentious " Phryno at 

 Eleusis" (307, Room III.) is open to anatomical exception, 

 especially with regard to the lower extremities. But the 

 artistic objections to this painting are much more serious 

 than the scientific ones. If Phryue had really so charming 

 a face, but so matronly a form, and flesh so strangely 

 coloy.red, .she would never, unless singularly unwise, have 

 lesorted to the expedient she actually adopted to disarm 

 her judges at Elcusis. We take it the real Phryne 

 relied on the perfect harmony of her proportions, the 

 perfect delicacy and tenderness of every outline and every 

 tint, to plead in her favour, not on fulness of develop- 

 nicnt, or the mere evidence of a fine constitution (apart 

 from a most abnormal complexion). Sir F. Leighton's 

 Phryne, however, would have found her judges merciful 

 if she had been content to let them assume that her figure 

 was as perfect as her face. 



{To he continued.) 



OLD MAY-DAY. 



ri"^HE day on which these lines appear — May 12 — is Old 

 JL May-day. We must not forget this in reading what 

 our early poets say of the charms of May. The month of 

 May has been shifted since the days of those poets. When 

 Chaucer, for example, spoke of 



the sixth morrow of May, 

 Which May had painted with his softi; show'rs, 

 This garden full of leaves and of flow'rs, 



lie meant tlie time of year corresponding to our 14th, not 

 to our May G. And again, in choosing ilay for the name 

 of the naughty lady whom Sir January took to wife, 

 Ciiaucer was assigning emljlomatically to May 9 the quali- 

 ties described by the author of the "Menagiana." The 

 reader will remember that Budgell, in the Spectator (No. 

 36.")), referring to this description of the kindly warmth 

 infused into earth and its inhabitants during the month 

 of May, expressed the opinion that " the observation is as 

 well calculated for our climate as that of France," adding 

 wickedly, " and some of our British ladies are of the same 

 constitution as the French Marchioness of S., who told 

 the author of the ' Menagiana ' how dangerotis she found 

 the month of May." In his " II Pastor Fido," Guarini 

 describes May as — 



Bella madro di Cori, 

 D' erbo novelle e di novelli amori,* 

 The May-day of the Spectator's time was that which 



• This lino does not refer in the remotest way to the Derby or to 

 now faTouritos. 



I call Old May -day, viz., May 12, for it corresponds with 

 May-day at the time when our Bradley " rol)bcd the 

 people," as they thought, " of their eleven day.s." But if 

 the Old Style had continued till now, our present ^lay 13 

 would be May-day, for the Julian Calendar cau.sed the 

 dates slowly to pass away from the seasons they had 

 originally corresponded with. It is worthy of notice, how- 

 ever, that the May-day of the last century, though coming 

 later in the true year — that is, the year of seasons — than 

 May-day of Chaucer's time (our May 9), was not likely to 

 be a warmer or brighter day, for from about May 11 to 

 May 1-1, there usually occurs a singular, and as yet unex- 

 plained, " cold snap." On the average, ^lay 9 is at least 

 one degree Fahrenheit warmer than May 12, though our 

 almanacs in giving the mean temperature make no note of 

 this. 



The change of style has altered the seasons notably 

 since the days of Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton. Then 

 Midsummer fell at the very end of June, Midwinter at 

 the very end of December. In one sense this accorded 

 better with the actual changes of temperature than our 

 present arrangement; for Midsummer is not the hottest 

 nor Midwinter the coldest part of the year. The weather 

 was far more likely to be cold and bitter on Old Christmas 

 Day — oar Twelfth-night — than it is on our present Christ- 

 mas Day, when, indeed, the weather is as often soft and 

 warm as bleak and cold. The last week of December was 

 as apt in Shakespeare's time as in the second week of our 

 January to be a time — 



When icicles hang by the wall, 



And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, 

 And Tom bears logs into the hall, \ 



And milk comes frozen home in pail. 

 When all aloud the wind doth blow, 



And coughing drowns the parson's saw, 

 And birds sit brooding in the snow, 



And Marion's nose looks red and raw j 

 When blood is nipp 'd and ways be foul, 

 And nightly sings the staring owl. 



The old May-day ceremonies would show that a marked 

 change had taken place in our seasons, if the May morn of 

 former days fell in the same part of the year of seasons as 

 our present May-day. Chaucer tells us, in his " Court of 

 Love," that early on May-day " forth goth al the court, 

 both most and lest, to fetche the flowi-is fresch, and braunch 

 and blome." Even Kings and Queens rose early on ilay- 

 day, to fetch green boughs or May boughs. This is pro- 

 bably the " rite of May " referred to in the " Midsummer 

 Night's Dream," — " No doubt," says Theseus, " they rose up 

 early to observe the rite of May." On our May-day not 

 many trees are green, but a few days at this season make 

 a great difference in the aspect of the woods and fields, so 

 that on Old May-day folks who rise early, and are not 

 troubled by fears of the " great unpaid," might collect a 

 goodly number of " flowris fresch ; and braunch and 

 blome." 



Our poets, despite the effect of the change of style, 

 which has thrown back May-day a full fifth nearer the 

 spring equinox than it was in Shakespeare's time, still 

 sing in the same strain of the merry month of Jlay and of 

 the delights of its opening days. But May-day is only 

 poetically " the merriest, maddest day of all the glad New 

 Year." The change of style has practically wrought a 

 change of weather. It has brought down the Maypoles. 

 A few chimney-sweeps may still carry round their Jack- 

 in-the-Green ; but the green is usually evergreen, not the 

 fresh growth of the new May. We cannot wonder at the 



