96 
OLLA PODRIDA. 
[Nature and Art, March 1, 1807. 
mentioned publications: — “Rosabella Yalse,” by Adam 
Wright; “Bon Soir Galop,” by Fred. Godfrey ; “Blossoms 
of Thought,’' by Robert William Pearse; “The Wishing 
Cap,” a song by VV. T. Wrighton; and “ Sing me that 
song again,” a serenade by G-uglielmo. “ Blossoms of 
Thought” are original preludes for the pianoforte, and 
some of them indicate the composer to be gifted with real 
musical feelings. There is a certain originality about the 
greater number of these studies. In Band-master Godfrey’s 
galop, a very short song is introduced, the melody being 
founded on the “ Coldstream Guard’s Yalse.” The galop, of 
its class, is good. Mr. Wrighton can write expressive and 
plaintive ballads ; but he is not so happy in treating the 
“ Wishing Cap ” description of subject. The words are by 
Charles Mackay. 
The Japanese Jugglers. — Novelty, though sometimes 
very startling, is not always genuine ; but in the ease of the 
Japanese troupe, now flying paper butterflies and spinning 
tops at St. Martin’s Hall, it is eminently so. The party of 
middle-aged men, young women, and children, from the 
country of the Tycoon, twelve in all, began enlightening the 
Saxons, at a private performance, on February 9th. 
Asi-Ivitchi-San is the artist and the gentleman of the party, 
and his butterfly trick must be seen to be believed. The 
Japanese manner is easj r , and almost carelessly self-possessed, 
though undisfigured by any show of vulgar confidence. 
Native dignity, and a calm consciousness of excellence in 
some branches of their art, the males of the company 
certainly seem to possess. Gaensee, “top-spinner to the 
Tycoon,” and Asi-Kitchi-San are especially intelligent-look- 
ing. “ Beauty is but skin deep,” and hardly that, with the 
actresses of Japan ; but then in England we can ensure the 
finest complexions in the world ; for if the white and pink of 
nature are not forthcoming, the artistic substitutes are to be 
procured in Bond Street. The Japanese ladies are sallow, 
and, in comparison with their masculine companions, sleepy- 
looking. To this rule there is one exception, namely, a 
young girl with an almost European complexion. After 
twelve simultaneous salaams from the entire and richly- 
dressed party, this fair-skinned maiden puts on a head-dress 
something- like an exaggerated mitre, and dances after the 
rather ungainly fashion of her native land. There is nothing 
of the languid, dreamy, and poetical “ Almee ” spirit in this 
performance ; but, on the contrary, a decided angularity of 
movement. The peculiarity of the dresses is their extra- 
ordinary richness and roominess ; and the neatest figure in 
Japan is apparently doomed to be encased in habiliments 
which would fit a Celestial Chang. 
The Japanese bring their own music, and lamentations 
will not be general when they take it back again, for it is 
very irritating to the susceptible European nerves. Tone 
seems no particular object ; time but imperfectly understood; 
and tune not at all. The very thin strings of a distressing 
kind of banjo are sometimes twanged by the ladies’ fingers, 
and sometimes worried by a wooden implement, neither a 
miniature cricket-bat nor a spoon, but something of both. 
There is also a small toneless drum, and a drum major, who 
divides his time between this excruciating instrument and 
an invention in the shape of a vivandiere’s spirit-keg. He 
taps both with two sticks, but extracts nothing like sweet 
sounds from either. A running fire of the songs of Japan 
accompanies the various performances, and one of these 
vague effusions is given with most amusing seriousness by 
the youngest of the three children. Gaensee’s top-spinning 
is a wonderful exhibition of its kind. He throws the tops 
in the air and catches them, still spinning, on a cane ; “sends 
them to sleep,” as Young England says, now on the edge 
of a sword, and now on the top of a fan, and, in point of 
fact, does precisely what he pleases with them. 
Both conjurers and acrobats are, as was anticipated, 
clever. Two of the latter, who are attached to this troupe, 
climb and clamber about a light bamboo scaffolding in St. 
Martin’s Hall, after the manner of the late chimpanzee at 
the Crystal Palace; and one of them, owing to the accidental 
breaking of a cane from which he was hanging, was for a 
few moments in great danger. Bamboos, however, are 
tough and fibrous, and the courage and presence of mind, 
fortunately belonging to the Japanese as well 'as to the 
English fraternity, saved the performer from death, and the 
spectators from a sad shock. 
Asi-Kitchi-San’s “ butterfly trick ” is the crowning glory 
of this remarkable entertainment. He tears a small piece of 
rice-paper into the shape of a little white butterfly, and 
with the current of air from a fan keeps it moving in the 
exact imitation of the insect. He talks to it in evidently 
persuasive and facetious language, and at length it quietly 
settles on the top of another fan carried in the left hand. 
The artist, — for a thing of this kind is artistic in the highest 
degree, — manages two with equal success ; and anything 
more delicate, pretty, and really marvellous as an imitation 
of nature, it is impossible to conceive. 
Herr Ernst Schulz, a physiognomist and a very 
remarkable man, gave a lecture, or private performance, 
on the 29tli of last November, to an invited few at the 
Egyptian Hall. He has since been lost to sight, but 
under the suggestive title, “ Masks and Faces,” his 
entertainment is now heralded to the London public. We 
have a few broad, abstract, ideas of physiognomy, and 
know that raised eyebrows express surprise, that when 
lowered they help to indicate anger, and that a curled lip 
implies scorn and contempt. It is, however, reserved for a 
philosophical mind, and extraordinarily mobile features, 
such as Ernst Schulz possesses, to demonstrate how truth- 
fully human nature and temperament may be illustrated 
by one man. Grimace is despised, and caricature quietly 
put on one side by this student of humanity, who creates 
effects which could hardly be credited, and never descends 
to violence or vulgarity. Ernst Schulz presses down his 
hair, turns his collar down, and settles his marvellously 
plastic features into a representation of semi-imbecility 
absolutely startling from its simple truth and fidelity. He 
does not show us a maundering idiot, which picture to a 
certain extent must always be repulsive, but he brings us face 
to face with a simpering fool we all immediately recognize 
as a common object in every-day-life. The lecturer’s facial 
illustration of the “phlegmatic” temperament, the purse- 
proud man, and the “ pious person” are living photographs 
of the highest artistic excellence. Herr Schulz, in the second 
part of his lecture, treated of the “ Lights and Shadows of 
Character betrayed in the Beard,” and here made use of some 
peculiarly cunning arrangement by which he threw a shadow 
on his face of the exact shape and size required for the 
“ military moustache,” the “millionaire’s whiskers,” or the 
“ diabolical beard.” The portrait album was rather a 
mistake, inasmuch as the bodies of the subjects were badly 
drawn and painted. Herr Schulz, of course, put his head 
through the canvass, and perhaps he treated the “ working 
man” somewhat unkindly. By the assistance of dresses 
and the mysteriously arranged light, he finished with a series 
of typical portraits. A Tyrolese, an American Indian, and 
a specimen of Bosjesman female beauty, were included 
in this section of a highly intellectual entertainment. 
He sits at a table, and manages the complexion, whiskers, 
and beard-imitating apparatus with unerring certainty 
and without assistance. It may bo some artful com- 
bination of mirrors and reflectors that enables him to 
throw the light, flesh-tint, beard, and moustache on his 
face at the same instant. Whatever may be his means at 
command, the result is extraordinary, and Herr Ernst 
Schulz’s entertainment is a thing to be seen. 
