exhibitions.


[Illustration: ROTUNDA OF THE VIENNA EXPOSITION BUILDING, 1873.]

Perhaps in all this solid work the demands of time had not been duly
considered. Certainly, the display was not punctual to the appointed
period of opening. Exceptionally bad weather was another drawback, and
the greed of the Viennese hotel-keepers a third. For such, among other
reasons, the enterprise was financially a failure--a fact which little
concerns those who went to study and learn, and those who three years
later have to describe. If the darkening of the imperial exchequer
prove more than a passing shadow, and an ultimate loss on the
speculation cease to be matter of question, the few millions it cost
may be recovered by the disbanding of a regiment or two. For one
brigade, out of half a million soldiers, to bring the world and its
wealth to the seat of government, is doing better than the usual work
of the bayonet.

The country and the city themselves were a study to foreigners in
many of the modes of life. The extent to which the utilization, as
stationary and locomotive machines, of pigs, cows, women and dogs
was carried elicited constant remark from the Western tourists, with
sundry moral conclusions perhaps too hastily arrived at. This outside
feature of the exposition may serve as an admonition to put our own
surroundings in order. They are not apt to expose us to such comments
as naturally occur to those who have never seen dogs and damsels in
harness together; but other vulnerable points may peradventure be
descried. We must demonstrate our civilization to be complete at
all points, and not simply a coddled exotic under glass. What if our