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Title A name given to the resource The Author Subject The topic of the resource <em>The Author</em> Description An account of the resource A digitised run of the Society of Authors' monthly periodical, <em>The Author</em>, 1890<span>–</span>1914, made available together for the first time.<br /><br />Currently users can browse issues and <a href="https://historysoa.com/items/browse?search=&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bjoiner%5D=and&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=51&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=Index&amp;collection=&amp;type=&amp;tags=&amp;exhibit=&amp;date_search_term=&amp;submit_search=Search+For+Items&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CTitle">indices</a> (not available for all volumes). Full text search for all issues, and other additional search functionality, will be added in 2022. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1890–1914 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The-Author-Issues Publication Date The date of an event (in YYYY, YYYY-MM or YYYY-MM-DD format) 1892-02-01 Volume 2 Issue 9 Pages Page range in volume 255–294 Ngram Date Version of the date in YYYYMMDD format for use by the Ngram plugin 18920201 Ngram Text Version of the text with no HTML formatting for use by the Ngram plugin ^Ibe Hutbor. (The Organ of the Incorporated Society of Authors. Monthly.) CONDUCTED BY WALTER BESANT. Vol. II.—No. 9.] FEBRUARY i, 1892. [Price Sixpence. CONTENTS. PAGB • 'SI • »57 Warnings Notices , On Literary Property— I.—Author and Editor 359 II.—An Instructive Caso 259 III. —American Rights 260 IV. —The Literary Fraud 360 V.—Sale of Copyright 261 VI.—Return of MSB 161 VII.—A new Device 262 Gossip in a Library. By Edmund Gosse 362 A Hint for British Museum Readers 364 The Day shall Como 264 Notes from Paris 365 Like the Authors ..366 A Magnificent Story 368 Notes and News. By Walter Besant 369 "Eric and Robert" 373 Criticism and Fiction 374 Oxford, and the English School 376 To Busy Men in Good Positions 377 Burns and Scottish Poetry 377 Periodical Lists of Continental Books 378 Correspondence— I.—Illustration jg, II.—The new American Society 383 III.—Press copies 383 IV—The Mild Domestic Novel .'38, V.-How? VI.—Gerald Massey js| From the Papers— I.—Modem Poets , 33, II.—Names and Work ."384 III.—Copyright in Lectures asj IV.—A New Terror 385 V.—Literature and the State ag< VI.—The Commonest Delusions 386 "At the Author's Head" a86 New Books and New Editions 288 EYRE AND SPOTTISWOODE. STATE TRIALS, Reports of. New Series. Vol. III., 1831—40. Published under the direction of the State Trials Committee. Edited by Jons Macdohell, M.A. 10*. INVESTMENTS. A List of 1,600 British, Colonial and Foreign Securities dealt in upon the London and Provincial Exchanges, giving the highest and lowest prices of each particular Stock for each of the last twenty-two years, or from the time of the creation of such Stock, also the price onjoth May, i89i,and the yield percent, to the Investor. Compiled by G. Brown. i». 6d. PUBLIC GENERAL ACTS, 1891. Red Cloth, 3*. Contains all the Public Acts passed during the year, with Index, also Tables showing the effect of the year's IiCgislation, together with complete and classified Lists of the Titles of all the Local and Private Acts passed during the Session. REVISED STATUTES. (Second Revised Edition.) Royal 8vo. Prepared under the direction of the Statute I*w Revision Committeo. and Edited by G. A. R. Fitzgerald, Esq. Vols. I. to IV. now ready, price 7». M. each. FORECASTING BY MEANS OF WEATHER CHARTS, Principles of. By the Hon. Ralph Abercromby, F.R. Met. METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENTS, Instructions in the use of. 3t. bd. THE LITERATURE RELATING TO NEW ZEALAND. A Bibliography. Royal 8vo. Cloth, «. bd. POLYNESIAN MYTHOLOGY AND ANCIENT TRA- DITIONAL HISTORY OP THE NEW ZEALAND RACE. By Sir George Grey, K.C.B. Illustrated. Royal 8vo. Cloth, s». ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE MAORI. By John White. Demy8vo. Half Morocco. 4 vols, ica.jpervol. PLIOCENE DEPOSITS OF BRITAIN, THE. By ('1 I'M km Re-ID, F.L.8.. F.G.S. Five Plates (48 cuts), s». bd. LONDON AND NEIGHBOURHOOD: Guide to the Geology of. Bv William Whitakbb, B.A. is. COPYRIGHT LAW REFORM: an Exposition of Lord Monkswell's Copyright Bill. With Extracts from the Reportof the Commission of 1878, and an Appendix containing the Berne Convention and the American Copyright Bill. By J. M. Lely, Esq., Barrister-at-Law. i». bd. KEVV BULLETIN, 1890. Gardens, it. tod. KEW BULLETIN, Issued by the Director of Kew Monthly, 2d. Appendices, 2d. each. Annual Subscription, including postage, j*. ad DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF MUSICAL INSTRU- MENTS recently exhibited at the Royal Military Exhibition Compiled by Capt. Day, Oxfordshire Light Infantry, under the orders of Col. Shaw-Hellikb, Commandant Roval Military School of Music. Illustrated by a series of Twelve artisticallv executed Plates in Heliogravure, and with numerous Wood Engravings. 31J. "Unique, as no earlier work exists in English dealing exhaus- tively with the same subject A very important con- tribution to the history of orchestration."—Athenaum. PUBLIC RECORDS. A Guide to the Principal Classes of Documents preserved in the Public Record Office. Bv S R Scarcill-Bibd. F.S.A. is. 'The value of such a work as Mr. Scargill-Bird's can scarcely be er-rated."— Times. Monthly Lists of Parliamentary Papers upon Application. Quarterly Lists Post Free, id. . Miscellaneous List on Application. Every Assistance given to Correspondents; and Books not kept in stock obtained without delay. Remittance should accompany Order. GOVERNMENT AND GENERAL PUBLISHERS. EYRE and SPOTTISHOODE, Hrr Majesty's Printers, East Harding Street, London, E.C.  ## p. 256 (#660) ############################################ 256 ADVERTISEMENTS. The " Swan" is a beautiful Gold Pen joined to a rubber reservoir to hold any kind of ink, which it supplies to the writing point in a continuous flow. It will hold enough ink for two days' constant work, or a week's ordinary writing, and can be refilled with as little trouble as to wind a watch. With the cover over the gold nib it is carried in the pocket like a pencil, to be used anywhere. A purchaser may try a pen a few days, and if by chance the writing point does not suit his hand, exchange it for another without charge, or have his money returned if wanted. There are various points to select from, broad, medinm, and fine, every handwriting can be snited, and the price of the entire instrument, with filler complete, post tree, is only 10s. 6d. The Gold Pens in the "Swan" are Mabie, Todd, & Co.'s famous make. They are 14-carat tempered gold, very handsome, and positively unaffected by any kind of ink. They are pointed with selected polished iridium. The " Eucyclopajdia Britannica" says:—"Iridium is a nearly white metal of high specific gravity, it is almost indestructible, and a beautifully polished surface can be obtained upon it." They will not penetrate the paper, and writer's cramp is unknown among users of Gold Pens. One will Outwear 90 grOSS Of Steel pens. They are a perfect revelation to those who know nothing about Gold Pens. Da. Oliver Wendell Holmes has used one of Mabie, Todd, & Co.'s Gold Pens since 1857, and is using the same one (his " old friend ") to-day. Sydney Grundy, Esq., says (referring to the Fountain Pen) :—" It is a vast improvement on every Stylograph." Moberly Bell, Esq., Manager, The Times, says (referring to the Fountain Pen) :—" One pen lasted me for six years." S. D. Waddy, Esq., Q.C., M.P., says (referring to the Fountain Pen) :—" I have used' them constantly for some years, and, as far as I can remember, they have never failed me." Send Postal Card for Free Illustrated List (containing interesting Testimonials from the Best People, who have used them for years) to— MABIE, TODD, & BARD, S3, OHEAPSIDB, LOKTDOKT.  ## p. 257 (#661) ############################################ ^Ibe H u t b o t\ {The Organ of the Incorporated Society of Authors. Monthly.) CONDUCTED BY WALTER BESANT. Vol. II.—No. 9.] FEBRUARY 1, 1892. [Price Sixpence. For the Opinions expressed in papers that are signed the Authors alone are responsible. WARNINGS. Readers of the Author are earnestly desired to make the following warnings as widely known as possible." They are based on the experience of six years' work upon the dangers to which literary property is exposed :— (1.) Never sign any agreement of which the alleged cost of production forms an integral part, unless an opportunity of proving the correctness of the figures is given them. (2.) Never enter into any correspondence with publishers, especially with advertising publishers, who are not recommended by experienced friends or by this Society. (3.) Never, on any account whatever, bind yourself down for future work to any one firm of publishers. (4.) Never accept any proposal of royalty without ascertaining exactly what the agreement gives to the author and what to the publisher. (5.) Never accept any pecuniary risk or respon- sibility whatever without advice. (6.) Never, when a MS. has been refused by respectable houses, pay others, whatever promises they may put forward, for the production of the work. (7.) Never sign away American rights. Keep them. Refuse to sign an agreement con- taining a clause which reserves them for the publisher. If the publisher insists, take away the MS. and offer it to another. VOL. 11. (8.) Never forget that publishing is a business, like any other business, totally unconnected with philanthropy, charity, or pure love of literature. You have to do with business men. Society's Offices:— 4, Portugal Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. ■ NOTICES. THE Annual Report of the Society has been delayed for the universal reason of universal delay—the influenza stops the way. The accounts could not be drawn up for the auditor. As soon as possible this will now be done, and the Report will then be issued. The First Report of the Authors' Syndicate, which is a branch, though an independent branch, of the Society, will be issued at the same time as the Report of the Society. It will be found to show a vigorous and a promising record of the first year's work. On Thursday, January 28th, the Committee pro- ceeded to elect a secretary in place of Mr. S. S. Sprigge, resigned. Their choice fell upon Mr. G. Herbert Thring, M.A., formerly of Hertford College, Oxford. Mr. Thring is a son of the late head master of Uppingham. He is a passed solicitor, and is not unacquainted with the work of the Society. He enters upon his duties at the end of March. The Committee desire to express their thanks to the gentlemen who offered their services. That the post should have attracted candidates of such marked ability is a gratifying proof of the position now held by the Society. T 2  ## p. 258 (#662) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. Cardinal Manning was one of the first Vice- Presidents of the Society of Authors. He attended at several of the earlier meetings, and always took a lively interest in the welfare of the Society. It was, indeed, the adhesion of men such as our illus- trious President, the Cardinal, and others, men whose position commanded respect, which gave the Society at the outset a claim to attention which a mere gathering of well-known literary men might have failed to command. Such is the situation of literature in this country. In America, on the other hand, a gathering of literary men would command the most widespread and the most respectful attention. Our readers will be sorry to learn that for the last two months Mr. R. U. Johnson, the secretary of the Copyright League in New York, has been dangerously ill with typhoid fever. Mr. Johnson is still unable to write or communicate in any way with his English friends, and it is even believed that he is still unaware of the gift which the authors of this country have presented to him. We are happy to say, however, that as we go to press we receive from Mr. Gilder, the Editor of the Century Maga- zine, a telegram, which states that Mr. Johnson is now convalescent, and is believed to be out of all danger. Mr. Rudyard Kipling has been elected a member of the Council. An American Society of Authors has been founded. Its President is Mr. Richard H. Clarke, LL.D., its Executive Council consists of the Rev. Dr. Alfred H. Moment, Rev. Edward P. Ingersoll, Mr. J. Fairfax McLaughlin, and Mr. C. B. Lewis. Its secretary is Mrs. Katherine Hodges. The prospectus begins with an extract from a letter written by Mr. G. W. Smalley to the New York Tribune, a copy of which has already appeared in this journal. The five points which are put forward as the objects of the Association are as follows :— 1. To promote acquaintance and sociality among authors. 2. To secure a clear understanding of the position and rights of authors in literary property. 3. To furnish information as to copyright laws, methods of publishing and form of contract. 4. To assist authors in gaining accurate in- formation as to the true value of their productions, and, when necessary, to secure that value. 5. To endeavour to elevate American literature. We do not know yet how the Association has l>een taken up in the way of membership; we have invited the committee to forward news as to their progress. We wish them every possible success, and we hope to publish from time to time reports of a triumphal inarch. At the Committee meeting of January 2 8th the following resolution was unanimously passed: "That this Committee welcome with great satis- faction the foundation of the American Society of Authors, and that the secretary is instructed to furnish all information and help in its power to the sister Association." The meaning, as between publisher and author, of the so-called "Royalty System "—where there is no system—was explained in the Author for November 1891. Writers are entreated, in their own interests, to study the facts and figures there set forth. Communications intended for the Authors' Syndi- cate should be addressed to W. Morris Colles, the Honorary Secretary. All persons engaged in literary work of any kind, whether members of this Society or not, are invited to communicate to the Editor any points connected with their work which it would be advisable in the general interest to publish. Members and others who wish their MSS. read are requested not to send them to the Office without previously communicating with the Secretary. The utmost practicable despatch is aimed at, and MSS. are read in the order in which they are received. It must also be distinctly understood that the Society does not, under any circumstances, under- take the publication of MSS. The official directions for the securing of American copyright by English authors were given in the Author for June 1891. Members are earnestly entreated to take the trouble of reading those directions. Members are earnestly requested to forward agreements to the Society for inspection before they sign them. Once signed, the mischief is generally irreparable.  ## p. 259 (#663) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 259 ON LITERARY PROPERTY. I. Authok and Editor. WITHIN what period has an author a right to have unused manuscript returned to him? Has he any right to have it returned to him at all? If it should be lost, has he any right to compensation? These are questions as difficult as they are important. To return an exactly accurate reply to them is impossible, but an endeavour must be made to return an approxi- mately correct one. And, first, a wide distinction must be drawn between cases subject to special agreement and cases not so subject. In a large number of magazines the editor prints in each issue the terms on which he is prepared to receive manuscript, intimating that "he cannot undertake to return rejected communications," or the like. Out of the four corners of such agreements there is no escape, but they should be clearly printed and easily to find. They are, as a rule, however, not only clumsily worded, but incomplete. For instance, they do not state the latest day at which manu- script must be sent in order to ensure insertion in the next issue of a montldy magazine. It is believed that the 8th of each mouth is almost universally the latest day. Numerous contributions being strictly topical, all authors should be put on their guard on this point, and thus saved much useless " writing up to date." It is submitted that all topical contributions which arrive after this fatal 8 th should be returned to the author forthwith. But how about contributions not topical? It is notorious that some editors will keep such for many months, and, perhaps, eventually allow them to be wasted. On this point I confidently submit that no editor has a right to retain manuscript on the chance that room may eventually be found for it. As for corrected proofs which after all do not appear, or what is called "over matter," the right of the author to be paid for such is, or should be, beyond dispute. But where there is no notification in a magazine as to terms on which contributions may be sent, what are the relations between publisher and contributor? Some would say that the publisher solicits manuscript from all the world, and is bound to have all manuscript attended to, and either accepted or returned. It is greatly doubted whether this view will hold water, aud in 1884 the late Mr. Justice Williams, in an action brought unsuccessfully against Sir Augustus (then Mr.) Harris by a dramatic author for compensation for a lost play, laid down the law in terms which show that he did not share such a view, and non-suited the dramatic author. All things considered, and especially looking (1) to the excess of the supply of contributions over the demand for them, and (2) to the great risk of the same subject being selected for treatment by many more contributors than one, authors should surely either not contri- bute at all to magazines containing no special notifications as to handling of manuscript, or else make such terms for themselves by special agreement. A word as to remuneration. Whether rightly or wrongly, no magazine throughout the civilised world has as yet publicly notified any fixed scale. It need hardly be pointed out that the author has a right to be paid for each contribution accord- ing to its value—unless, indeed, the contribution be put in the form of a letter, when it is supposed that merely to insert is sufficiently to remunerate— and that a "scale pay," though in nine cases out of ten it ought to be accepted as fair, is not conclusively adequate. Much less would a publisher have any ground to stand upon who, after inserting a contribution, should venture to tell an uathor that the magazine is being run gratuitously. Such treatment should l>e met forthwith by a writ for the amount claimed. So much for magazines. Now for books. Here there can be no special agreement by public notifi- cation, but there is always opportunity for an author to make a special agreement when delivering his manuscript for consideration by the reader. What form should this special agreement take? So varying are the subjects and the sizes of manuscripts that of course no general rule can be laid down. It would perhaps, however, be reasonable to stipulate for a limit of three months' detention of manuscript in all ordinary cases. But why should not the Authors' Society draw up a sort of scale for publishers to agree to? And why should not a reasonable demurrage become payable by publisher to author after a reasonable period of detention? And why should not an author submit copies of the same manuscript, or offers to write on the same subject, simultaneously to several publishers, with the view of closing with the highest bidder for his work? II. An Instructive Case. A.B. is one of those pcisons who are wholly unfitted either by education, or by special study, or by natural powers, or by acquired powers, to write a single word for the furtherance or help or solace of his fellow creatures.  ## p. 260 (#664) ############################################ 260 THE AUTHOR. He is also one of those persons who become possessed of a single idea, generally a wrong idea, based upon misunderstanding, and impossible for anyone to conceive or to cherish who had any real knowledge of any subjects with which it may be concerned. Some of these persons write letters to the papers; now and then the letters get inserted. Then they are happy and look for the conversion of the world to their own opinions. Less frequently they write a book. A.B. wrote a book. It was a long and dreary MS. on an absurd and ridiculous subject; a book which any publisher with the least regard for literature would, without hesitation, refuse; a book which nobody would buy ; a book which ought never to have been published. Having written his book, A.B. sent it to pub- lishers. The extent of the travels of that MS. is unknown. At last a firm offered to publish it for him if he would pay the whole cost. So far, the only objection to the proceedings is that the book should never have seen the light. They appended an estimate. The printing, machinery, and paper, they said, would cost, for 750 copies, so much. They would recommend adver- tising to the extent of so much. The binding of 25o copies—to begin with—would cost so much. They also stated that they should charge a publishing fee and a commission on sales. The author accepted the terms without question or examination. The book came out and the accounts came in. The printing, machinery, and paper, set down according to the estimate which the author had accepted, was about £3o more than they cost. The binding was set down at a quarter more than it cost. The advertisements "in papers, lists, and cir- culars" were charged double the stipulated sum. No details were rendered, and it is clear from the wording that a good part of the money had been charged for advertising in the firm's own lists. The " publishing fee" was not forgotten. There were next to no returns. In other words, this firm took up a perfectly worthless book, knowing that it was perfectly worthless, in order to make out of it (1) a trifling publishing fee, (2) a trifling commission, and (3) the by no means trifling sum of £5o or £60 by fraud. This was not a little unknown firm: it was a large firm which advertises a long list. In the face of one single fact, such as the above, is there not ample justification for the existence of this Society? Should not the knowledge that the Society has dozens of such cases in its possession prompt all authors to ask its assistance, if only to be kept out of the hands of such a firm as this? III. The Value of American Rights. This is the day for warning authors—it is done very seriously by the disinterested brethren who manage literary affairs—not to expect too much from American rights. Let us not expect too much; let us wait and watch; meantime, we will keep these American rights, whatever they are worth, in our own hands, and not let the dis- interested brother have them at all. An article on the subject in an American journal states that most authors—all those who are not yet in a position to dictate their conditions—are compelled to accept a ten per cent, royalty. A few, he says, can command a twenty per cent, royalty. Now, we have not yet got behind those figures; we do not quite know what they mean, in America, to publisher as well as to author. Therefore, let us for the present say nothing, but make the best arrangement possible. The cost of production and of advertising does not, it is said, follow the same law of proportion to the price as in this country. The writer who is quoted gives us, however, one or two useful pieces of information. A work by a tolerably well-known writer which sells 3,ooo copies does well. Often a publisher is satisfied with a sale of 2,000 copies. At a fifteen per cent, royalty on a price of one dollar and a half, the author would get, on a sale of 3,ooo copies, the sum of £i35. In this country, on the same sale of a 6s. book, and with the same rate of royalty, the publisher would net about £2 70, that is to say, publisher: author :: 2 : 1 on that scale. On a larger sale it may become a pro- portion of 3:i. The American writer goes on to say that he numbers among his friends two well-known and successful writers, whose income from literature is not equal to that of an ordinary clerk in a prosperous business house. IV. The Literahy Fraud. "What protection has an editor against the man who sends him old and stolen papers as his own? None, except the police court; and it is really wonderful, considering the impunity with which the thing may generally be done, that it is not done oftener. In the States, it appears, the trick is much more common than here. The Harpers are reported to be resolved upon ferreting out and  ## p. 261 (#665) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. bringing to justice this class of offenders. There is more than one way of trickery. A man may stoal a paper from an old, or translate one from a foreign, magazine, and pass it off as his own. This, one imagines, is what is commonly done. If an obscure magazine is chosen, the chances of detection are very slight. Of course, if a man stole from old numbers of the Cornhill, or Temple Bar, he would be found out at once. Another plan is for a writer to offer an editor work done, sold, and published years before. A third is to sell the same thing to two or more different magazines. The exposure of the criminal's name is something, but in this, as in every other infringement of literary property, the courts of law are the only real preventive. V. The Sale op Copyright. If a man sells his copyright to a publisher, can the publisher do what he likes with the manu- scripts? I hear everyone say at once—certainly. Softly! Can he mutilate the work? Surely that might be to the author's detriment. Can he burn it? That also might damage the author. For an author is paid in two ways—by money and bv repute. If he is only to obtain his money pay- ments, they should be proportionately large where he is going to be done out of his fame. The matter is one for legal exposition, which is invited. The case is put in the form of a story in this paper. VI. The Return of MSS. The following notices have been extracted from the January numbers of the magazines mentioned, and if aspiring contributors would read them they would spare themselves a great deal of disappoint- ment. A large number are silent as to their practice with regard to the return of manuscripts, and in a still larger number of cases their bark is worse than their bite. Among these must be included the Quarterly Review, Edinburgh Review, Con- temporary Review, Blackwood's Magazine, and Cornhill Magazine :— The Law Quarterly Review: "It seems convenient to repeat, in a conspicuous place, that it is not desirable to send manuscript on approval without previous communication with the Editor, except in very special circum- stances; and that the Editor, except as afore- said, cannot be in any way answerable for manuscripts so sent. The Editor cannot undertake the return or safe custody of manuscripts sent to him with- out previous communication." The Nineteenth Century: "The Editor of the Nineteenth Century cannot undertake to return unaccepted manuscripts." The National Review: "Correspondents are requested to write their name and address on their manuscripts. Post- age stamps must be sent at the same time if they wish their manuscripts to be returned in case of rejection." The New Review: "The Editor of this Review does not undertake to return any manuscripts." The Fortnightly Review: "The Editor of this Review cannot undertake to return any manuscripts." Temple Bar: "Every manuscript should bear the name and ad- dress of the writer (not necessarily for publica- tion) and be accompanied by postage stamps for its return in ease of non-acceptance. Every care will be taken, but the Editor and publishers cannot be responsible for accidental loss, &e. « # • # Poetry. From the large number of pieces received every month, it is impossible to return them. A copy should be kept, as rejected pieces are destroyed." Longmans' Magazine: "A stamped addressed envelope should accom- pany the manuscript if the writer wishes it to be returned in case of non-acceptance. The Editor can in no case hold himself responsible for accidental loss." Macmillan's Magazine: "Every manuscript should bear the name and address of the writer, and be accompanied by the necessary postage stamps for its return in case of non-acceptance. Every endeavour will be made to send back unaccepted articles, but the Editor cannot guarantee their safe return. There is no rule in this magazine entitling a contributor to the publication of his signature. This and all other kindred matters rest solely on the Editor's discretion." "We shall give further editorial announcements next month.  ## p. 262 (#666) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. VII. A New Device. "The wily publisher has lately adopted a new device for fleecing his secular victim that may be recommended to the notice of the Author. The wretch has taken to sending the author all the unfavourable reviews that appear of his immortal work, and suppressing the favourable ones. The result is, or is expected to be, that the author supposes his work to be a failure, and, when the time of submitting accounts arrives, either expects no cheque or is delighted with one of a most modest amount." The above is from the Athenceum (Jan. 2, 1892). The adjective "wily " affixed to the word "publisher" probably means that the whole paragraph is an elaborate joke. "Secular victim" is a good phrase—also part of the recondite and cryptic joke. If it is not a joke, then somebody has been deliberately thieving, and ought to be tried in a criminal court. But when was it expected that a publisher should collect and send to an author all the notices of his book? Authors in their younger days have sometimes favourable notices sent them by their publisher to promote confidence, and always have unfavourable notices sent them—to promote despondency—by private friends. One would like to know more about the origin of this paragraph. It looks as if it had teen communicated by some publisher who had been rashly accused of the thing by a suspicious author. If not that, then it is the suspicion, probably unfounded by examination into the facts, of a suspicious author, communicated by him to the Athenceum. If that is so, his remedy is easy. He has only to send a chartered accountant to audit that publisher's accounts. If the publisher is an honest man he cannot possibly refuse. If he does refuse, there is another step possible, and very easy, which will overrule that refusal. GOSSIP IN A. LIBRARY. "Dbvden's Fables. "Fables, Ancient and Modern. Translated into verse from Homer, Ovid, Boccace, and Chaucer. With original Poems. By Mr. Dryden. London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, within Gray's Inn Gate, nea t Gray's Inn Lane. MDCC." This is an elephant among books, and makes us sigh as we lift it. At the close of the seventeenth century the British public grew more and more to address the poets in the words of Armado in Love's Labour's Lost: "Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio." Until that time these grandiose forms, properly dedicated to the theologians and the philosophers, had been com- monly eschewed by the poets until they came to collect in a final shape their works (" that is to say, their plays"). The volumes in which the famous lyrical poets of the middle of the century made their appearance were delightfully exiguous. A young dreamer of dreams might carry his Lovelace or his Crashaw next to his heart without any fatal injury to the elegance of his doublet; the first edition of Waller, slipped into the pocket of his cloak, would add nothing appreciable to its weight. But, as the century closed, books of verse became steadily taller, and, above all, there came in this taste for folios. It was the enterprise of Jacob Tonson that first encouraged this latter fancy. One of his earliest ventures, as a young man of five and twenty, had been Dryden's Absolom and Achitophel, which he brought out, in defiance of all precedent, as a thin stitched folio pamphlet. He was immediately imitated, and this form, incon- venient as it seems to us, became the one generally chosen for the first appearance of occasional poetry. But among the enormous books of verse with which the century closes the one before us was the hugest, as it was the last. It was published, it is believed, in the month of November 1699, and therefore less than six months before the death of Dryden. The noble poet, worn out at last in his unequal struggle with misfortune, succumbed at length to a cluster of ailments which had tormented him all through the winter. His surgeon offered him the chance of prolonged life if he would submit to an operation, but Dryden refused. He told Mr. Hobbes, as Ward reports in his London Spy, "that he was an old man, and had not long to live by course of nature, and there- fore did not care to part with one limb, at such an age, to preserve an uncomfortable life on the rest." And so, on the 1 st of May, 1700, he died, calmly and resignedly, "taking of his friends," says one of those who were with him, "so tender and obliging a farewell as none but he himself could have expressed." This tall folio, then, possesses a singular interest as the final message of this great poet to the world in which he had fought, and laboured, and fallen, and persevered, for seventy arduous years, the last crop from this gnarled and broken but still richly fruitful tree. If the Fables showed signs of a mental decay responding to the physical, they would still awaken our interest and demand our respect. In those days a gigantic book of this kind was not rapidly worked off nor readily circulated. If, indeed, certain copies were subscribed in November, it must have been nearer Easter before some country clients of Tonson received the ponderous packet. Life went upon leisurely wheels in rural places then, and many a fine lady and lettered squire may have  ## p. 263 (#667) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 263 seen the ominous paragraph in the Postboy: —" John Dryden, Esq., the famous poet, lies a- dying,"—before they had mastered the contents of their last purchase. All their lives through such readers would have awaited the utterances of the one great writer of the age with the same certainty with which they awaited the changes of the seasons. That winter would follow autumn seemed not more inevitable than that Mr. Dryden would oblige the town, as he had obliged it since the earliest memories of man, with an ode or a satire, a tragedy or a translation. And now he "lies a-dying!" With what zest, with what melancholy eagerness, would they turn to his new volume. Nor would there be any possibility of disappoint- ment to a reader of that day. To compare the pleasure given by this folio to its immediate readers, we have to think of the reception proposed for the second Childe Harold or for the Idyls of the King. In spite of the insolence of his controversial opponents, Dryden was now to the world at large what Byron was in 1816, or Tennyson in 1864, that is to say, a writer intimately in sympathy with his public, of uncontested mastery, perfectly sure to provide exactly what his readers would wish to receive. The only doubt admissible was, whether disease of body and old age had reduced the creative and executive gifts. A glance at the folio would remove this fear. Never had Dryden written, in his own way, with a more brilliant force; never had his powers of narration been so pictorial, his artistic resources so completely under his control. Never till now had he shown what fire was hidden under the lids of those " sleepy eyes." The? chorus of critical praise rang out louder and clearer than ever before, and the laurels weighed down the weary body as it passed to its long sleep between the dust of Chaucer and of Cowley. The impression produced by this particular volume was not destined to be ephemeral. A hundred years after its publication, one of its most important sections could still be placed by so influential a critic as George Ellis " on the very topmost shelf of English poetry." Later still, Mr. Saintsbury has called the Fables "the most brilliantly successful of all Dryden's poetical experiments." It is therefore here, if anywhere, that we may attempt to solve the question why the admitted masterpiece of one who is acknowledged to Ik? one of the greatest of the English poets, is no longer widely read or enthusiastically enjoyed. I know no problem more difficult to solve, none more embarrassing to our critical pretensions. It is of no use to affirm that the Fables are enjoyed as much as The Fairy Queen, let us say, or as Prometheus Unbound, because? it is matter of common experience that this is not so. It is of i VOL. 11, equally little use to affirm that, therefore, Dryden must be a poet of a rank inferior to Spenser or Shelley, because it is easily demonstrable that he is quite as prominent a figure as either in our literary history. Let us, first of all, see what this volume really contains, a feat not to be achieved, even in Mr. Saintsbury's splendid (but alas! unfinished) resuscitation of Sir Walter, except in the original issue. The edition of 1700 consists of a prose dedication, a long critical preface, a poem addressed to the Duchess of Ormonde, a paraphrase from Chaucer, an Epistle to John Dryden of Chester- ton, a translation from Ovid, a paraphrase from Boccaccio, three more pieces out of Ovid, the first Iwok of the "Iliad," successive paraphrases from Chaucer, Boeeaeeio, Ovid, and Chaucer again, the ode called " Alexander's Feast," five more pieces of Ovid and Chaucer, an original poem to the memory of a Fair Maiden Lady, and a paraphrase from Boccaccio, all since distributed to various chambers in the complicated works of John Dryden. Of all these, one, and one alone, is familiar to every educated person, the " Alexander's Feast." Most literary men luive read or know they ought to have read the poem to the Duchess of Ormonde, and, of the paraphrases, " Palamon and Arcite," " Theodore and Honoria," and " Cymon and Iphigenia." The rest is familiar only to those few who read every- thing in the English literature of the past. Let us quote a passage from what lies outside the selected pieces I have named. Here is a description of a delicate young girl, who died at the very threshold of her life :— So faultless was the frame, as if the whole Had been an emanation of the soul, Which her own inward symmetry revealed, And like a picture shown, in glass annealed j Or like the sun eclipsed, with shaded light, Too piercing, else, to be sustained by sight. Kach thought was visible that rolled within, As through a crystal case the figured hours are seen j And heaven did this transparent veil provide, Because she hail no guilty thoughts to hide. Here is a courtly and cordial piece of compli- ment :— No porter guards the passage of your door, To admit the wealthy, and exclude the poor; For God, who gives the richos, gave the heart, To sanctify the whole, by giving part; Heaven, who foresaw the will, the means has wrought, And to the second son a blessing brought; The first-begotten had his father's share, But you, like Jacob, are Rebecca's heir. Each of these passages suffers by excision, for Dryden's beauties are those of sustained substance and extended form, so that to judge his poetry by a fragment is almost like trying to appreciate a marble Venus by examining one of her broken lingers. Yet which of the essential qualities of U  ## p. 264 (#668) ############################################ 264 THE AUTHOR. poetry is missing even in these brief quotations? Here are elevation of thought, felicity of expression, life approached from the dignified and imaginative side, versification that is as strong and as buoyant as a wave. What is wanted? The wilful modern reader says,—the charm of Spenser and of Shelley. What the particular charm is which seems lacking, not merely in Drydcn, but to a still greater degree in Pope, is, I think, mainly a technical one. It is not romantic subject, for nothing in English poetry is more romantic than "Theodore andHonoria"; it is not sweetness of verse-music, for the whole of this huge folio is ringing with a sober and majestic melody. It is rather the lack of preciousness in the details, the wide sweeps of the brush precluding all minute foreground work, the absence of pre-Raphaclite touches, which disappoint us in this manly body of poctrv. Wc expect, in our age, to have the entire canvas covered with delicate handicraft, and we find that where the painting poets of the Eliza- bethan age succeed their pictures have the same peculiarity. In Dryden's age a great effect was sought for, a poetical bravura, bold sweeping lines of narrative. It was expected that poetry should be seen from a distance, not pored over with a lens, as we treat our favourites. Doubtless our con- ception of the art gives us a more varied and a more vivid pleasure, but a perusal of this folio, Dryden's farewell gift to his country, may serve to remind us that the other, the simpler, plainer art also exists. Our taste should be catholic, and to those who would insist on our preferring one style to another, and putting Marlowe in a class above Drydcn, we may reply— "Kach heaven's alternate beauty well displays." Edmund Gosse. A HINT FOR BRITISH MUSEUM READERS. ON the 13th of July last, a register, open to the public, was placed in the hall just at the entrance of the Reading Room of the Dibliotheque Nationale in Paris, the object of which is explained in the following notice placed against the wall beside the register: "Conforme- ment an desir cxprime par des lecteurs, le present registre est mis a leur disposition pour l'inscription des deinandes on des offres de collaboration (re- cherches, copies, dessins, etc.) portant sur les collections de la Bibliotheqne Nationale. L'ad- ministration demeure absolument ctnmgere mix indications contemiei dans ce registre." Up to the present date (January 6) 109 pages of the register have been filled, or an average of nearly four entries per day, the nature and variety of which are quite interesting. It is to be noted that nearly all the entries are by ladies and gentle- men who seek literary employment, not by i>ersoiis in search of assistants. There are a few investi- gators in foreign countries who sent their names to lie entered for the purpose of finding co-workers, chiefly for gathering statistics. The numl>er of languages in which researches are proposed to be made, or lessons given, is astonishing. Let . me quote a few specimens of the entries, namely :— Demande recherches historiqnes, scientifiques, et techniques .... recherches en tons genres, transcriptions, documents de la noblesse, etc. . a faire des copies et a mettre des manuscrits au net .... a se mettre en rapport avec personnes s'occupant de la question juive . a faire traductions de russe en francnis, lecons et copies .... des travaux qnelconqiies (prix ties doux) .... s'oecupe de recherches heraldique .... desire donner des lecons d'anglais .... voyagerait avec une faniille on une. personne senle .... preceptorat on emploi de secretaire .... offre de vendre le manuscrit d'un roman .... collabomteiir avec petit capital pour fonder un journal .... place ile comptable .... ecritnres diverses . a changer conversation de francais contre conversation d'allemand .... place de redac- teur .... lemons de coniptabilite .... lecons de violin et de piano .... apprentisage d'un metier artistique .... place de gerant . . . . place de garde champetre. The supply in all these fields of labour is enor- mously greater than the demand. Would such a condition be materially different in the British Museum—in England, where education is not so free as in France? I doubt that there would l>e much difference. The fact is that we live in an age of research, and that the business is vastly overdone. An age of research is followed by a period of destruction, and the question of the XXth Century is, Can we utilize the results of our researches for the purpose of saving civilization from collapse? C. S. THE DAY SHALL COME. The day shall come—surely as time rolls by— When true strong souls to heights of God will reach— Aye, kiss His feet and hearken to His speech, The distance vanquished between earth and sky; As they draw nigh to Him, will He draw nigh  ## p. 265 (#669) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 265 To them, and bend His face a little down That glory from His eyes their beads may crown, Their hearts may strengthen to sueh tension high, But sometimes, too, I think that now and then, (Leaving some garment, lest they lonely cry, For them to hold, so, peaceful, childlike lie) God will withdraw a little from these men; And in far reaches out of ken and sight Will live awhile in awful lonely light. Sidney Caxton. NOTES PROM PARIS. ICALLED at Dr. Blanche's this afternoon to hear the latest news of Guy de Maupassant. He is only allowed to see very few people, amongst these being his publisher, M. Ollendorff, who visits him every day. De Maupassant, I was glad to hear, is very much better. His wound is healed, and he is very much calmer. A dav or two ago he expressed a desire to resume the writing of his novel, so tragically interrupted, but yielded to the advice that it would be better for him, as for the work, to rest a little longer. He is, hovever, allowed to write letters to his friends, anil one, which I saw yesterday, certainly showed no signs of having been penned by a man whose intellect is in any way deranged. His new novel "La Debacle " is killing Emilo Zola. Usually delighting in his work, he is loud in complaint at the enormity of his task. "I do not think that I would ever have begun it, had I known. . ." he said to me. Still he is making progress, and is now well on with the second part of the book, which, composed of eight chapters, is entirely taken up with a description of the battle of Sedan. He hopes to have it finished by the end of April. I called on Zola the other day on a very dis- agreeable errand. It was to ask him to put Ins autograph in a birthday book. This book belonged to a friend who is an ardent collector of autographs, and also a great admirer of the chief of the naturalist school. To oblige my friend I did what I would not have done for myself. Still, I did not care to face M. Zola with the request. I feared an "Et tu, Brute," but sent up, as ambassador, a note in which I explained my purpose. Zola came running downstairs, cordial as usual, and had me up to his study. "Have you the instrument of torture with you ?" he asked. Then opposite April 2nd, wrote his laborious signature. "I hate giving autographs," he said, "when the request reeks of coininereiality. I am constantly receiving circulars, chiefly from America, but never answer them." That birthday book contained the last signature Victor Hugo ever wrote. I obtained it a few davs before his death. It was pathetically feeble and illegible. An amiable eccentric is travelling in the south of France as Paul Bourget. He has allowed himself to be interviewed several times on various literary subjects. Bourget published a letter putting people on their guard against him, as it was thought he might be a swindler. But it appears all that he seeks to obtain by his false pretences is the satisfaction of vanity. He pays his bills anil behaves properly. Bourget ought to seek him out. He should be worth analysing. The last meeting of the Societe des Gens de Lettres was held on Sunday, the 17th, at the Hotel Conti- nental. Two hundred and ten members attended. M. Zola presided. The meeting was a lively one. It was divided as to the question whether the old system of admitting members on the rejwrt of a rapporteur, elected by the committee, should lie maintained, or whether Article 5 should be modified so that in future the claims of every would-be member should 1« examined by a special committee of three, who, after writing three several reports, should elect a rapporteur to make a final report on the admissi- bility of the candidate. The old system was main- tained by a large majority. The next meeting will be held on the 3oth of the month. I have seen M. Rodin's rough model of the statue of Balzac, which is to be erected in Paris by public subscription. It premises a remarkable work of art. Balzac is represented in the monkish dressing-gown which he used to wear when writing, and which, it will be remembered, was always kept spotlessly white. The face is an excellent likeness, and the pose bespeaks the wonderful vitality and energy of the Goliath of the pen. Rodin is staking his great reputation on this work. Is " avid " English? It is an adjective that I should often have had a use for, but the dictionaries ignored it. Of late I have seen it frequently used, as recently as last Sunday by a man of no less U 2  ## p. 266 (#670) ############################################ 266 THE AUTHOR. authority than T. P. O'Connor in one of his masterly reviews in the Sunday Sun; and I am anxious to know quo warranto. In France the Academy settles the y randes and the yetites entrees of words into the national vocabulary: in Germany the Kaiser decides in these matters, but who or what in England? Is the Englishman inde|>endent, of an official Word-Mint, or is it coining to invent words? There are many words which, like "avid," seem tout indiques, and I am curious whether a writer incurs n charge of lesS- lanyuc in introducing them as occasion warrants. Oscar Wilde's " Salome " is to be produced at the Theatre d'Art here next month. It is in one act and in prose, a highly poetical dramatization of the story of John the Baptist. Oscar Wilde wrote in French from the beginning. It is very much ad- mired by those who have read it, and the production of a French play of considerable literal')' pretension is being eagerly looked forward to by artistic Paris. Robert H. Shehakd. Paris, January 20th, 1892. ♦■>•-♦ LIKE THE AUTHORS, or A REFORMED PROFESSION. "TTTATT a minute," said the man at the table, VV looking up. "Sit down. Take a pipe. * T I shall not be long." His visitor took a chair—there were only two in the garret—and sat down. It was a cold day in January, but there was no tire. The man writing at the table had a rug wrapped round his legs. The furniture was scanty and shabby. Presently the writing man collected his papers, numbered them, and looked over the last two or three pages in his hand. "There !" he cried, "It is finished, and now I think that old humbug Sir George will sit up and look round about." "Oh! they are all made to sit up every week," said the other wearily. "What good does it do?" "I've shown that he knows no law; I've shown that he never did know any law; that his eloquence is twopenny froth; that he is a hack and a . . . ." "That will do. You have written one of the usual beastly things, I suppose. What good will it do if it is true? Besides, you know that it isn't true, or only half true. He is what circum- stances have made him." "It will mean a few guineas in my pocket to begin with." "And to end with. Nobody will think anything the better of you, or any the worse of Sir George, for your article, or a dozen articles like it. Never a number of any magazine comes out in which there is not some article by » clever young fellow like yourself"—the speaker was at least eight-and-t went v, and his friend was perhaps three years younger—" 011 the Decay of the Legal Profession. The magazines must be filled somehow. Formerly it was the Decay of Literature, and the pipers were filled by the young men who wanted to show their superiority bv down-crving favourite authors. I was looking the other day at some magazines of 1892. How- stale and dull they were—the articles written by the men of the Higher Criticism, as they called themselves! And how dead and forgotten are the writers of those papers! I think people got tired of the thing, if they ever liked it, which one cannot believe. Fortunately the reform of the professions and the destruction of our old corporations set us free to abuse each other. Well, we have got our liberty, and the result . . . ." He looked about the emptv garret. His eye fell upon the empty fireplace and his friend's shabby coat. He stopped and sighed. "Yes," cried the other hotly, "we have our liberty and we use it. What? Why should we remain in silence when such a humbug as old Sir George keeps all the business to himself? Humbug or not he is fifty years of age; it is time for him lo retire in favour of the younger men." "Quite so. Envy of success; jealousy of age; but Sir George is a great advocate; juries think so." "What do juries know altout law? But you are always carping at things as they are. I don't believe they were ever any better. Why should not barristers, physicians, preachers—everybody— criticise each other just as literary men have always done?" "Rather, why should authors have been allowed to set the evil example of knifing each other? Bemeinber that the best men—even the second- rate men—have seldom, if ever, done it. The personal abuse, the misrepresentations, the envious sneers that went on under the name of literary criticism, all this was done by men who notoriously had created or invented nothing, and were jealous of the men who had. The pipers which filled up the monthly magazines fifty years ago with lamen- tations 011 the Decay of Art and Literature were not the work of the craftsmen, but of the men who wished to be taken as critics. Their papers were sometimes accepted by editors because they could be had for the asking and at a prettv low figure, and because they filled up his paper. Nolwdy  ## p. 267 (#671) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. wanted them; nobody read them; they hud no influence; the things they cried down went on flourishing just the same. Nobody whs hurt by them, except the profession of letters. That was very much hurt, I suppose; it was made contemp- tible as far as it. can be made contemptible. What could the world, as then constituted, when pro- fessions were guilds, think of a calling in which every man's hand was turned against his neighbour, and abuse, depreciation, envy, and spitefulness were suffered without rebuke or power of remedy, except action for libel?" "By which you would infer that we our- selves" "Let us see. Fifty years ago the profession of the law was a closely guarded corporation. Those who belonged to it were governed by laws; if they broke those laws they were liable to be disbarred. For instance, they could not canvass, tout, adver- tise, or beg for work; tliey could not bargain with solicitors; they could not haggle and be beaten down; they could not sue for fees; they could not attack each other, as authors did—and as von do—had your grandfather written that paper in your hands he would have been most certainly disbarred. In fact, fifty years ago a barrister was, before all, a gentleman, according to the good old meaning of the word." "Whatever has happened, we have our liberty. Freedom before all!" "Freedom? Look out of window. Who is that great fat man swelling along like a turkey cock? A rich solicitor, is he not? He is to us what the publisher was to the author. He lavs the money; he gives out the work; he pays us. Formerly he paid ns at rates fixed by ourselves. We sat here and the work came to us. Now his chambers— that man has got a whole set of stairs in Stone Buildings—are besieged by barristers waiting to receive the work, begging for it, humbly receiving what he will give, hoping for his generosity. "Look at that fellow taking off his hat in the court. He is a great lawyer—a great scholar— a man of immense powers. Yet he has to take off his hat to the solicitor who has got the money, and he has to so himself to the man's chambers to ask for work." "Our liberty—Our liberty "—said the other man more feebly. "Your liberty! stuff and rubbish! wc had your liberty and we threw it away ; we were indepen- dent, and we made ourselves slaves. We imitated the authors—we cut the painter and east the boat adrift. Lil>erty is only to be achieved by combina- tion. As authors were fifty years ago, afraid of publishers, dependent on their so-called 'gene- rosity,' snarling at each other, so are we now, because we have destroyed our corporation. That splendid great hall, over there; it is used, you know very well, by the solicitors for their banquets —they sometimes ask us to sit down with them— it was ours once; the library next to the hall—ours —but we threw all away when we destroyed our corporation. As for the physicians, you know what they are now—think of what they were fifty years ago. •' Do you mean to say that we are not to speak the truth when a humbug ." "My dear fellow, reflect. Why should you speak the truth? How do you know that it is the truth? Have you shown that you could do any l>etter? Have you shown that you can do anything at all? Who constituted you a judge? Why should (he world accept your verdict? How much envy is there in this paper that you have written, and how much pure love of justice and yearning after excellence? How much knowledge of law—principles of criti- cism—do you show in this article of yours?" The other hung his head. "They all do it," he said; "my dear fellow, I should starve if it were not for the chance of making a little money this way." "Well, it is a bad way. In the old times, before the men and women of letters saw a way to combine, and to regidate the former license, the same kind of talk went on about criticism and the pricking of wind bags. Every little prig who offered his precious contribution was allowed to pad out the pages of the magazines with the newest jargon al>out Art, and with his crude and impudent judgment on men he never even took the trouble to read. They were just like you, my dear l>oy. They had never been tried; nobody knew whether they could do anything or not. Mostly they could do nothing. Mostly they no more had the critical than the creative faculty. In fact, the former is much the rarer of the two. And they were mostly consumed with spite and envy. Just like you, my dear lwy. Now you have got your knife into Sir George. That was the way the would-be man of letters generally began. You do not tell us, you sec, because you do not know, what you would do if you were in Sir George's place. He has to convince the jury; to please his employer the solicitor; to win his case. What is the use of saying that he knows no law? He has to win his case. What is the use of saying that he plays to the gallery? He has to win his case." "Is there to Ik' no criticism at all, then?" "Let us distinguish. A man in practice desires the favourable judgment of his employers, the solicitors. That is all the criticism he wishes, Most of your criticism is directed, and intended, to prejudice him in the eyes of his employers, Next, he desires to be thought a persuader cf  ## p. 268 (#672) ############################################ 268 THE AUTHOR. juries. If the world accepts Lim as such, he is, to a certain extent, independent of the solicitors, because they must employ him. Therefore a great part of your criticism is intended to prejudice him in the eyes of the; world. If a man is jwpular von deride the -world for liking him—just us the unsuccessful and the. untried writer used to do. You invent a thousand reasons why the world should despise him. But there is only one reason— envy. You want to take his place. That is, while you are young. At your present age you hate the men who have got on, because you wish to be in their place. When you grow old you will hate them worse, because you have failed to get on. That is about the sum of vour criticism, my dear friend." The other man did not reply. There was no reply possible, because it was all true. "When all is said," the speaker continued, "wo remain the slaves of the solicitors; we belong to the men who have money and can give out the work; we have to take what they choose to dole out we have no protection against them. They have cut our fees down to vanishing point; they have found out a thousand ways to rob us and beat us down. If we grumble they put on men like yourself, my dear Jack, hard up, envious, and j>erhaps incompetent— which is not like yourself—to call attention to our sordid and money grubbing spirit when we ought to be contented with the honour and the. glory of the spouting. These hacks talk about the dignity of the profession, and ask if law is to be measured by the guineas it will bring in. We are in rags, and our miseries and our helplessness bring upon us the contempt of the world. Why, men are ashamed to call themselves barristers, just as they were formerly ashamed to call themselves authors, l>ecause they were so helpless, and so poor, and so very much sat upon and robbed!" "There are too many of us," said the other. "Yes, we have abolished examinations, you see. Well—we live in garrets, like this j solicitors live in stately clubs; they have robbed us of all the good things that used to be ours. They are now Chancellors, Law Officers, Judges, Masters, Re- corders—everything. Why? Because, for the sake of the miserable freedom which you prize so much —the power of hating and deriding and abusing each other, we have given up the independence which was ours by combination and ours by disci- pline." There was a step on the stair and a knock at the door. A man marched in with his hat on, fussy and important. "Messrs. Vellum and Sheepshanks," he said, pulling out a bundle of papers, " Mr. Sheepshanks sends compliments and brief. You must call to- morrow morning at u.3o, when he will see you. Case set down for hearing. Documents in the case. Junior counsel, brief endorsed four-and-six. With you, Sir George. Here you are—want your money- down, I suppose, like all of 'em. Got sixpence change?" He threw the papers and the silver on the table and marched out again, slamming the door behind him. "There!" cried the young lawyer, jumping up, "My chance has come at last." "It used to come, fifty years ago, with a little more respect to counsel. And the fee! Four-and-six! Good Heavens! To what are we reduced? Well, it may be your chance. Meantime, this precious article! Will you add one more name to the long list of envious and malignant articles written by the young and the unsuccessful against their elders and their betters? "Let me keep it," he said. "If the case leads to others I will tear it up. If not . . . ." "And as for me," said the other, " I shall go on with the impossible task of trying to persuade this scattered company of barristers to unite, to associate once more, and to return to the old order. The older men cannot; it is too late for them. They have been too long accustomed to fight, every man for his own hand. They cannot understand the independence of the former order; senility to solicitors is in their blood; they have grown up to think it the finest thing in the world to slate and scarify each other. But with the young men it may be different. Jack, tear up this filthy rag," —he chucked the article into the empty fireplace— "and join me. Let us work together, let us try to restore the Inns of Court, let us try to bring back the old order, the old discipline, and the former independence." A MAGNIFICENT STORY.* EVERYONE has been reading "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," and Mr. Hardy's splendidly pathetic story has cominanded the outspoken praise of all competent to judge of its merits. It is a curious comment upon the attitude of the English reader—for this, of course, dictates the attitude of the editor who caters for him--that it should have been thought expedient to mutilate this perfectly restrained and delicate book in its original production lest it should give offence. To us it seems that if blind people will walk ulwut, they must take the chance of bruising their shins * Tess of the D'Urbervilles, a pure woman, faithfully presented by Thoma9 Hardy. 3 vols. Osgood, Mcllvnine, & Co.  ## p. 269 (#673) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. ngiiinst stumbling blocks. The world is to the clear-eyed. "Teas of the D'Urbervilles" is the faithful pre- sentation of a pure woman. This is on the title page, where it was easy to put it—the printer could have done it—but it is also in the text, where not another living writer could have put it, under the difficulties which Mr. Hardy has created for himself, that he might move us to admiration by overcoming them. For Tess is twice a guilty lover. As a child she is deceived by a man, and as a woman she is sacrificed to circumstances, but throughout her terrible story there is no doubt whatever that she loathes the sin that has lost her, that she is an absolutely pure woman faithfully presented. She starts as a healthy hoyden, soon to be a dishonoured mother, and she ends on the gallows, the mad murderess of her paramour, but from end to end she shows no trace of levity, no smear of sensuality. There is but one passionate time for her—her brief life as a bride. The story depends wholly upon the method of its telling. Throughout her misery Tess is always within a few feet of happiness, throughout her sin she is always within a few feet of virtue. She walks to her doom along one of two parallel piths. The other, separated from her by only a little hedge, would conduct her to happiness. She never sees over the hedge. Her first lover would have married her had she "resisted him longer. Her mother placed her in his power, and ignorance completed her ruin. But she is not ruined for ever. She lives down her fault. She is betrothed to the man she loves. Surely now she is on the other path! No. The man who married her would have lived out a life of happiness with her, if she had told him all her story before their marriage, or told him nothing afterwards. Her mother prevented the first course, her honour prevented the second, and at once she is back on her path of sorrow. She could have kept her husband by her side if she had put out her seductive powers. Her delicacy prevented her from doing this, so his delicacy urged him to desert her. She has one more chance. Her husband's parents would have helped her had she appealed to them. She starts to do so, and a trivial accident prevents her from accomplishing her purpose. Once again she was on the path to happiness, and once again she is forced away to her allotted track. The pretty generosity of Marian and Izz Huett might have saved her, but it was not to be. With complete fidelity to his conception of the girl and to his knowledge of life, the author hurries her to her doom. She has never known how near she has been to happiness. Tragedy is not the caterwauling of a Princess in a burlesque castle, and sensation is not a question of undiscovered crime. For those who can understand it this book is most tragic and most sensational, but it is not a book for house- maids. Tess is a very simple creature. She luis very little reasoning power and no religious convictions whatever. Therefore, stayed neither from within nor from without, she easily falls a victim to cir- cumstances, and her cruel fate becomes logical. But she is a pure woman. Mr. Hardy justifies his title by his book. Read it and see that the book justifies our title. It is a magnificent story. »■«■♦ NOTES AND NEWS. NO English paper, so far as I have seen, has noticed the very remarkable case brought before the Sydney Court, under Sir Frederick Darley, a few weeks ago. It was in the New York Nation that I saw the note upon it, which will be found in another part of this paper. A certain firm of Australian publishers had brought out a book called "Australian Men of Mark." The judge ruled that all contracts entered into on account of the book should be null and void, because it did not contain biographies of men really remarkable, but only of local importance. The Nation calls attention to certain dangers rising out of such a judgment. Others may be suggested. Thus, "Claribel: a Romance of the Day." (3 vols. Washington Jones. 1892.) What is to prevent a judge from ruling that the publisher is not bound to give the author any of the royalties stipulated for on the ground that there is nothing romantic in the book at all? Again, what is to prevent a judge from ruling that the publisher of a periodical called Noble Thoughts is not entitled to claim his rights because the Thoughts, in the opinion of the judge, are not all Noble, or that he who guides Little-Bits can enforce no claim )>ecause the "Bits " are not " Little," or that the Spectator does not spec tale and therefore has no rights? What with the decision in the Piunock case and this of the Sydney judge the law, as regards both author and publisher, is becoming confused and miscellaneous. The foundation of the American Society of Authors should prove an event of the highest importance to American literature. Elsewhere will be seen a longer notice of this event. It is hoped tliat they may follow our leading in certain particulars, viz., in the accumulation of all the facts  ## p. 270 (#674) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. connected with the management of literary property, the reform of the law as regards literary property, the creation of jealousy and suspicion as regards literary property. It is also hoped that they will show us an example in public spirit, clearness of action and union. Not to move too quickly, but to he always moving, has been our aim. There are some who think we do not move quickly enough. There are others who cry out to us that we are moving far too quickly. It. is neither helpless crying nor a wrathful strike that is wanted; it is steady increasing education and creation of public opinion, and the publication of the actual facts. There is one point in which I hope that the new American Society may be distinguished over our own. I hope that we shall hear that the whole body of honourable publishers have joined in support of the Society. In this country they have not. Partly, of course, it is the difference between a trade and a profession, that the former is not careful and jealous about its name and honour, and the latter is. What a barrister cannot do if he wishes to remain a barrister is well known. What a publisher can do and remain a publisher should be by this time very well known to our readers. Yet one might have expected that personal considerations, self-respect, dignity, even self-interest, should have caused those publishers who have given these hostages to fortune would have pressed forward to the support of an association whose principal object is the protection of property against those who live by pillage of that property. The case of the State and men of letters has been summed up by Mr. Earl Hodgson in the National Review. The spirit of the paper we cannot but commend. To begin with, Mr. Hodgson treats the question of the exclusion of literature from national recognition quite seriously, which is the first thing wanted j in fact, it is the only thing wanted. That the question is serious is the one tiling asked for. The proper answer will follow Very naturally. Mr. Hodgson, however, goes wrong at the outset by asking whether there is among literary men such a desire for titles that the Patronage Secretary of the Treasury would be "justified in ignoring the custom that the brewing interest has a practical monopoly of new peerages." And he points to the fact that men of letters have not come forward to complain that they have not received the titles which are freely given to everybody else. How should a man complain almut himself? It would make him on the spot ridiculous for ever. Even I, from my humble corner, when I began to speak on the subject, did so in the full knowledge of the cheap sneer that woidd certainly follow. A man of letters, asked if he would like a title— asked if he considers the withholding of national recognition from literature a scandal—must put the question aside or fence with it. Can a poet write in reply that he ought to have been a K.C.B. long ago? Of course he cannot. Mr. Lecky expressed this very well when he said that it is hardly for literary men to take the initiative in asking for distinctions. Most of the objections advanced by men of letters take the form of fear that the wrong men would be distinguished. But that objection applies to all professions. Some, as Lord Selborne, write the conventional talk about the "greatest honour of literary men is the power they exercise over the minds of men "—a phrase which may be used of lawyers, artists!, engineers, physicians, architects—all the liberal professions. Lord Selborne, observe, docs not object to the conferring of distinction upon lawyers. The only serious objection hitherto advanced is that literature should have a special order of distinction, and at present there is none. Certainly one would not wish that literary men should be knighted—a distinction pour rire when we consider the men who arc thus decorated. What, then, is Mr. Hodgson's solution of the question? He says that the answer is only matter of time. No class will ever have titular distinctions conferred upon its prominent members merely l>ecause it demands recognition. Yet it is inevitable that the distinctions will come to men of letters by-and-byc. There is to be, at last, a selection from the old and, to me, familiar pages of the Athenian Oracle. Mr. John Underbill has made the selection; Mr. Walter Scott will publish it. The book is simply invaluable to everyone who wishes to study the mind of the middle class at the beginning of tlic last century. The thing cannot Ihj found anywhere else in its entirety. Some of it is in Pepys. If we had the whole of Pepys without any omissions, we should doubtless find a great deal more, because Pepys was not at the outset in the very l>cst society. "For my own part," he writes, " I never did think my own family anything considerable- There is some of it in Defoe, but then Defoe was « strong self-contained man, whose ideas were very far in advance of his friends. Besides, Defoe was a Bohemian, and Defoe was a Dissenter. There W none of it in Tom Brown and Ned Ward, for the bourgeois mind has always been rojmtablc *D" decorous, if dull. There is very little of it i» Essayists, because Addison & Co., though 'hey might sit beside the smug cit at the coffee-house,  ## p. 271 (#675) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 27 r did not go homo with him and sit with his wife and daughters. The Athenian Oracle, with its succes- sor, the British Apollo, is the only place where the middle mind stands revealed. "God save the mark!" What does it mean? The words are now used at random; as often as not they mean nothing, unless it is a mild depreciation. "He calls himself a poet—Ciod save the mark!" There has been a little talk in the New York Nation on the origin of the phrase. It occurs, with its identical "God bless the mark !", four times in Shakespeare. It has been conjectured to refer to the mark in archery, or to the cross instead of signature. But the explanation explains nothing. Now, one of the four places is in Itomeo and Juliet, where the Nurse says: "I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes—God save the mark !— here on his manly breast." She touches her own breast while she speaks. The writer in the Nation, Mr. W. Hand Browne, thus comments on the passage and the phrase: "We know that in superstitions times men believed that they lived in a perpetual beleagnerment of malignant powers or demons, always on the watch to harm them in body or soul; and a careless act, word, or gesture might give a disastrous opening. Against such mishaps Christians were taught that the handiest prophylactic was the sign of the cross, which put all demons at once to flight. So I con- ceive that when the Nurse touches her breast she makes a cross upon it—' God save (he mark!' being equivalent to 'God protect from harm the place I now cross'; and this custom I surmise to have given origin to the phrase. As the English gave up the habit of crossing themselves, the original significance was gradually forgotten, until the phrase was used much as writers and speakers of the present day occasionally use it, without any idea of what it means or what they mean by it. "A curious passage in Petronius seems to support this view, and indeed gave me the notion of this explanation. Trimalchio is telling a story of witches veiling around a house in which a youth lias just died. One of the family, a bold Cappa- docian, draws his sword, rushes out of the house, 'et mulierem, tanquam hoc loco (salrum sit quod tango), medium trajecit.' Here Trimalchio evi- dently touches his own or his neighbour's body to indicate the spot where the witch was pierced, and uses at the same time a protective, or avermucine, formula to avert possible mischief." In another page will be found part of an address by Mr. Andrew Lang on Burns and Scottish poetry, filled with patriotic pride in the great and vol. n noble literature that is purely Scottish, on which nobody can—or does—speak so well as Mr. Lang himself. But is it the case, as he thinks, that the age is not " ending in song "? Only yesterday we were all asking each other where was the poet under forty? It had become a commonplace to lament that poetry attracts no longer the keener spirits. One worries through a good many commonplaces in the course of this pilgrimage; they are born; they live; they die. Sometimes they are nearly true, and die only when the conditions change; sometimes they are only half true; sometimes they present a small fraction of the truth. The history of the commonplace has yet to be written. Of this one commonplace, at least, I hope we shall hear no more. Mr. Traill, himself a poet of no mean repute, has shattered it. He enumerates sixty poets—real poets—to whom the title cannot be refused; sixty, not including himself, purposely omitted, the author of "Ioniea," Dr. W. C. Bennett, and Mr. Gerald Massey, accidentally omitted. There is going to be a fresh outburst of song, if I read the signs aright. They are the signs of serious attempt of serious reception, of awakening love for verse, of improved form. In America, if study and practice and perseverance can make poets, there ought to be many poets already. Mr. Howells, the parochial, I believe, claims all the leading poets of the age for his own parish. This is an age which, I venture to think, will end with the warbling of multitudinous songsters. The whole world will be a tuneful choir, and each bosky grove will be melodious. Whether there will be any great poet among them all, 1 know not; but I am fond of listening to songs, and I shall listen with the greatest pleasure. We may expect before long a great invasion of American literature. It must come, in fact, unless the American papers are far more kindly to their writers than our own. The invasion will, I suppose, ruin us all. Who can stand up against such writers as Paul Hamilton Hayne, "greatest of all southern poets," Celia Thaxter, J. T. Turbridge, Mrs. Helen Hunt Jackson, Mrs. Henson, Miss Edith Thomas, and Miss Helen Gray Cone, of whom we read that they have very often surpassed the remaining lines of Sappho, Danske Dandridge, "the West Virginia poetess," Miss Malt Crim, the "new southern novelist," Lafcndio Ilearn, and others who are revealed to us in the pages of the American journals? Seriously, how- ever, there is a great, a vast, increase in the United States of literary endeavour of all kinds, and they are attempting excellence with a newly born, but much fuller, recognition of form and style than we see in this country. If study and perseverance can X  ## p. 272 (#676) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. make poets, novelists, and dramatists, then will the United States speedily lead the way; the whole country, from highest to lowest, is full of respect for literary achievement; there is the stimulus of the highest national honours—such as the representation of the Republic at the courts of St. James's and Berlin; there are, available for literary art of every kind, inexhaustible materials within their own frontiers; it seems to me almost safe to prophecy an outburst before long of genius in the United States such as we ourselves have not seen since the time of Elizabeth. All the conditions are favourable—encouragement, honour, ambition, study, confidence, materials— everything is there waiting for natural aptitude or genius, and this will not be long before it shows itself in a full and flowing Hood. The book of the month—i.e., the book which lias attracted the greatest interest, during the month —is undoubtedly Mrs. Humphrey Ward's "David Grieve." There will be great diversity of opinion as to the place in literature which this work will occupy. Meantime, apart from opinions as to the development of mind here portrayed, there can be no doubt that the judgment of the Times, in reviewing the work, was sound when it pronounced the novel to l>e impressive. No other adjective could so completely sum up the book. One would like—this has nothing to do with the worth of the book—that the people who talk so glibly .about writing to a three-volume length on the assumption that all three-volume novels are of the same length, would kindly consider this three-volume novel as to length. It is very nearly twice as long as the ordinary novel. Of course the cry about Procrustean length belongs to that prattling bird the parrot, but it is seldom that its absurdity is so readily noted as here. Walteb Bksant. ERIC AND ROBERT, OR REVENGE IS SWEET. ILIKE these old titles. Out on your "Some Ideas and their Exegesis," a plague on your "Developmental Evidences," your "From Prig to Prime Minister," your "From Bookmaker to Bishop." Under such a title as I have chosen all can guess what sort of story they may expect. Eric and Robert were at school together. They were neighbours at home, and so far friends at school, that they walked together and talked to- gether more than a little, although they did not like each other much. I knew them both, and it always seemed to me that they kept up consider- able semblance of friendship, and some of its practice, because each distrusted the other; but I may have wronged them, and |K>ssibly they were a.s fond of each other as school friends usually are. This, at least, was notorious—they were desperately jealous of each other. And circumstances gave them cause, for circumstances constantly pitted them against each other. Robert, the son of an officer in Her Majesty's Army, would occasionally adopt a condescending tone towards Erie, the son of a solicitor. Eric, the sou of a thriving business- man, would at times show an obtrusive symjiathy for Robert, the son of an impecunious half-pay major. When Eric got a scholarship, for which Robert had competed, Robert congratulated him with a long face. When Robert was selected to represent their school at cricket, in the place that Eric had confidently expected for himself, Eric's interest in the national game waned, and he took to lawn-tennis. Both entered the same University, but availing themselves of the increased liberties of college life, they took different courses and saw little of each other. And this was the easier that they had but few common friends. If a man knew Eric he somehow did not care to meet Robert. If a man was on confidential terms with Robert he would get an impression that Eric was rather a person to be avoided. But they remained "Eric" and "Robert"' to each other. The University worked changes upon them. Eric grew idle, but read promiscuously, and adopted a didactic and critical tone. Robert grew diligent and became bitten with Orientalism. The result of this was to make him the only examinee in certain unpronounceable dialects, while it took seven savants to examine him. With a not unnatural generosity they awarded him a first-class in the tripos. It was about this period in their lives that the affair with Edith took place. I can say but little about it, for I know but little. Probably Edith would have married Robert, if Eric had not interfered. Probably she would have then married Eric, if Robert had shown a proper dignity and taken his refusal as final. He continued, as Eric said, to pester the girl. Now, she was a peaceful lass, and for the sake of peace she married the local brewer. With a University career and the regulation love affair brought to their definite conclusions, each young man felt that the business of life was now before him. Robert took pupils in the Cashmere dialects and began to make a reputation for himself as a Numismatist. His Oriental studies bad  ## p. 273 (#677) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 273 infused a certain enthusiasm into a school-boy trick of coin-collecting, and had thrown over it a glamour of classic learning. At two or three public sides he gave the highest prices on record. From the newspaper notoriety which he thus acquired to public recognition as an expert in his subject was but a short step. Next came rumours of his for- tunate bargains. The British Museum cut Robert's own records, by giving him more for certain coveted bits of metal than he had given himself. Then the museums of New York and Melbourne followed suit, and in course of time he acquired a second reputation, as big as the first, by the sales from his collection. He was chosen with acclaim the Librarian and Curator of the New Institute of a northern town, became a serious candidate for election to the Royal Society, and was believed to be writing an exhaustive book on the enthralling hobby that he had made his own, and lifted into the position of a science. Meanwhile, Eric had also fallen upon his legs. Shortly after leaving college he had entered a well- known publishing firm, and as time went on he became the presiding genius of the business. He was very modern. He republished certain Eliza- bethans' poetry in numbered copies on hand-made paper. He ran a serious magazine, entitled " The Mirror of Contemporary Thought," to which he obtained contributions from an archbishop, a prize- lighter, and Mr. Gladstone. Of course he had his series. It was called the Victorian series, and consisted of little manuals stuffed with home-truths about the Great People of the reign. It had a certain vogue, chiefly among the little people of the reign, but that is a very respectable public to appeal to. Soon after the establishment of " The Mirror of Contemporary Thought," there were hints in various literary periodicals that the coming book of re- search—a book from which amusement and artistic pleasure were to be derived as well as mere infor- mation—was Robert's Manual of Numismatics. With an impartial spirit, hardly to be too highly commended in these log-rolling days, Erie lent the pages of his review to Mr. Mortimer Watson, who essayed, firstly, to dispose of Numismatics as a science for ever, and, secondly, to indicate that Robert's Numismatics presented that foolish science in a more contemptible light than it had ever pre- viously appeared. Mr. Watson was thorough and his work was very creditable, for he only had three little stray articles from Robert's pen and a few annotated catalogues to guide him to his conclu- sions, but those who read the article could scarcely fail to see that Robert was a vicious, ignorant, and pretentious man. Eric said in more quarters than one that he was deeply sorry that Robert should have been exposed. It was about this time that Eric came on for election at Robert's club. Robert was so busy in the matter, that more might have been expected from his efforts in behalf of his old friend, than actually came of them. Eric was not elected; and Robert said in more quarters than one that he was deeply sorry that Eric should not have been more fortunate. To his inner self each owned that he hated the other. The position between them would have been clearer to all of us, had not Robert's appointment kept him far from London. As they never met, a formal agreement not to meet seemed superfluous to both. Yet, oddly to say, at the very time when it seemed most clear to us all that they could never pretend to friendship again, business brought about a rapproehement. Eric wrote to Robert and asked him if he would give him the publication of the book, allusion to which lind appeared in the papers. He would like so much to publish it, he said, iirstly because he felt sure that it would be a good book, one—not to make too great a pretence to disin- terestedness—that would bring him in a certain amount of money; and, secondly, because he wished to dissociate himself for ever from Mr. Mortimer Watson's vile attack on Robert. "Why should not Robert," he asked, "run up to town, dine, and talk the matter over?" So they dined and they talked, and they jHirtcd dissatisfied with each other. For Robert had been exacting; of this there could be no shadow of doubt. He had also been exasperating. He had spoken of his book as the only work that had ever l>een done on the subject that could be worthy of serious consideration. He boasted that it would not only open to him the exclusive portals of the Royal Society, but that it would cause him to be quoted as a pioneer in Numismatic circles for ever. "It has taken me ten years to write, sir, and two more to illustrate," said he, banging the table, "but it will pay me with ten lifetimes of fame. The book is unique." Eric listened to these gasconnades without interrupting. The next day- lie made Robert an offer for his book. It was accepted. It was boundlessly generous—at any rate by comparison with the offers that had been made by other publishers. The brief conditions were that Robert was to deliver the MS. by a certain date, and that he was to assign absolutely ami for ever all his rights in the book to Eric, in return for a thousand pounds. • * • • On the morning of the day upon which the MS. was to be delivered Robert received a letter from Eric, laudably anxious to keep his share of the contract, reminding him that the work was due and hoping that Robert would bring the original illustrations, and leave their reproduction to him, X 2  ## p. 274 (#678) ############################################ 274 THE AUTHOR. as he could make bettor arrangements for their reproduction than the author. "Fidgetty fool!" said Robert, who had already tied up the illustrations, and into whose mind no idea of interfering in the details of publication had ever entered. "Fidgetty fool !" he repeated. Suddenly a thought occurred to him that made him shiver. "Oh! that's it, is it? That's why you pay a thousand pounds," said he, and sitting down he telegraphed to Eric that the work could not be ready for a day or two. He spent those days, assisted by his pupils, in making rough imi- tations and tracings of all the original illustrations in his work, while he sent the text to be type- written. Two more days saw him in London, with a parcel in each hand, one containing the original illustrations and the type-written text, the other the rough imitations of the. pictures and the original MS. The first parcel he left with a well-known publisher, asking for an appointment later on in the day, and the second he took with him to Eric. Eric was very white, and received him affectionately. Kobert spoke in friendly tone, but, with the greed of authors, suggested business, putting his parcel on Eric's desk. "I am quite ready for you," said that excellent publisher, " Here is the agreement for your signat lire, assigning to me all your rights in your work, on consideration of my giving you a thousand pounds, and here is a cheque for that sum." Robert looked at the cheque. "When shall you bring the book out?" he asked. Eric had in the meantime untied the parcel, and was running his eye hastily over the MS. He seemed satisfied with the perusal. "I can tell you at once what I am going to do with it," he said, " but I wish first to put it in safety," and he walked into a little room behind the ollice, carrying the precious MS. "This is a joke," said Robert, and, staid Orient- alist as he was, he actually capered. And then there was the sound of fire-irons from Eric's retreat, whereat he capered again, and with more nbandon. Eric came back in two or three minutes and his face was now a vivid crimson. "As I have bought your book right-out," he said, " of course I can do what I like with it." "Of course," said Robert. "Well," said Eric, " I have paid you, and I have burnt your book." Said Robert, "You've burnt the work of my life?" Then he added, after a moment's silence, "Aren't you afraid that I shall kill you?" "No," said Eric, putting his hand in the drawer of his desk, whence a click immediately proceeded. "Melodrama ?" said Robert. "Oh no! Tragedy," said Eric, " It's loaded." "I suppose you really have burnt it," said Robert. "I hope so," said Erie. "Are you sorry ?" said Robert, looking at the cheque. "Not in the least," said Eric. "Then there's nothing more to be said?" "Nothing." Robert cashed the cheque. He then went to the publishers with whom he had left the other parcel. "Print it regardless of expense," he said. <: I am prepared to spend a thousand pounds, if necessary, on its production and advertisement." * • * • Six weeks afterwards the book appeared, and in a short preface Robert bore eloquent testimony to the generosity of Eric, who had crowned a life- long affection by an act of splendid munificence, in making a noble contribution to the cost of his old friend's work. Eric wrote a letter to the publishers, threatening to take proceedings to restrain them from publishing the book, but Robert pointed out that he had better, for the sake of his own reputation, keep quite quiet. "About the burning of the thing," he said, "I don't know that people would think so much. After all, many would say it was only a MS., meaning that it was only two shillings' worth of paper. And many more would consider your malice so ingenious, so mediaeval, so pic- turesque, that they would almost forgive it, even though the author did not. What no one would ever forgive you, if the matter came out, is the fact that you were fooled. My dear old schoolfellow, my open-handed patron, dry up." And, as the reporters say, proceedings then terminated. O. J. *~~-+ "CRITICISM AND FICTION." THIS little book, written by Mr. W. D. Howells, and published in London by Messrs. Osgood and Co., seems to have received much less attention from the English papers than it deserves. For to sum up, at the outset, it is a book helpful to the novelist of everv age and of every degree; it is suggestive, en- couraging, kindly; it is full of wise saws; it is admirably written, and abounds with unexpected happinesses in phrase and word. For English readers, however, everything that Mr. Howells  ## p. 275 (#679) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 2/5 writes is marred l>y that anti-English warp of his mind which amounts to an actual craze. He belongs to the irreconcileablcs; his ancestors kicked ours out of America after we had spent immense treasures and thousands of lives in making their home secure from foreign invasion; he, with the other American irreconcileables, can never forgive us for the benefits we conferred upon his forefathers and for the gratitude with which these benefits were repaid. Consequently, he cannot allow any good thing, whether in literature or in anything else, to England or Englishmen. Then he is afflicted with a most pestilent self-consciousness, which compels him to be perpetually measuring himself, or some immortal genius of his own country, with Thackeray and Dickens. Indeed, when you have cut down Thackeray by a head and shoulders and deprived Dickens of his legs, Mr. Howells and tliat other immortal do really stand much about the same height with these two Britons. In this little volume, for instance, the English writer is continually spoken of with open or veiled contempt, while Mr. Howells's warm heart and real admiration are reserved for that world-widely known lady, Mrs. Rose Terry Cooke, who "now carries the art of story telling to its highest" (page 169), or to that other illustrious favourite of the Muses, Miss Jewett, whose sketches are "perfectly satisfying." For this singular feature in Mr. Howells's criticism, and for one or two other points, which need not be pointed out here, a writer of his own country—one of those whom he has not measured beside Thackeray—compared Mr. Howells, as u critic, to a socialist in a dress coat, pretending that he did not know the taste of beer. It is, besides, a parochial method, and must make people on the other side laugh, while it makes ]>eoplc on this side a little irritated and a great deal contemptuous. It is unfortunate when such a form of madness is allowed to appear in such a book as the one before us. We all have our weaknesses and our crazes. These cannot be helped; but when they would injure the quality of work, they should be kept carefully apart and bestowed upon some other piece of work. Now, in a well-known case—a leading case—quoted by a tenth-rate writer named Charles Dickens—far, far below Rose Terry Cooke, and not to be compared with Miss Jewett—there was a man who used to get mixed al>out Charles the Blessed Martyr. It was arranged by his friends that this man should keep two desks whenever he sat down to write; one for his thoughts concerning King Charles, the other for the work in hand. This settled, he got on very well indeed. If Mr. Howells had only kept two desks, one for England, English institutions, and English literature, and the other for his own prope r work, how delightful this book might have l>een! For instance, that little passage on page 125 clearly belongs to the other desk :— "There can belittle question that many refine- ments of thought and spirit which every American is sensible of in the fiction of this continent, are necessarily lost upon our good kin beyond seas, whose thumb-fingered apprehension requires some- thing gross and palpable for its assurance of reality. This is not their fault, and I am not sure that it is wholly their misfortune: they are made so as not to miss what they do not find, and they are simply content without those subtleties of life and character which it gives us so keen a pleasure to have noted in literature. If they perceive them at all it is as something vague and diaphanous, something that filmilv wavers before their sense and teases them, much as the beings of an invisible world might mock one of our material frame by intimations of their presence. It is with reason, therefore, on the part of an Englishman, that Mr. Henley complains of our fiction as a shadow-land, though we find more and more in it the faithful report of our life, its motives and emotions, and all the comparatively etherealizcd passions and ideals that influence it." This little trouble about Charles the Martyr apart, the book is as good a treatise on the Art of Fiction as has ever appeared; written in a perfectly clear style by a man who knows what he means. There is nothing woolly in his utterances. He lets us see clearly what he means. He is intelligible. The young novelist could do nothing better than to buy and study the book. Beneath the parochial view there is wisdom and there is guidance. The author has forgotten the index and the table of contents, so that, though the work is divided into chapters, which are not even headed, there is nothing to guide the reader. This is a singular omission for so practised a hand. Let us justify our appreciation of this little work by two or three extracts—for our limited space— perhaps as much as should be taken from so small a volume. What is Guxirs. "In fact, the whole belief in 'genius' seems to me rather a mischievous superstition, and if not mischievous always, still always a superstition. From the account of those who talk about it, 'genius' appears to be the attribute of a sort of very potent and admirable prodigy, which God has created out of the common for the astonishment and confusion of the rest of us poor human beings. But do they really believe it? Do they mean anything more or less than the Mastery which comes to any man according to his powers and diligence in any direction? If not, why not have an end of the superstition which has caused our  ## p. 276 (#680) ############################################ 2j6 THE AUTHOR. race to go on so long writing and reading of the difference between talent and genius? It is within the memory of middle-aged men that the Maelstrom existed in the belief of the geographers, but we now get on perfectly well without it; and why should we still suffer under the notion of 'genius,' which keeps so many ]>oor little authorlings trem- bling in question whether thev have it, or have onlv 'talent'?" On Standards. "If I were authorised to address any word directly to our novelists, I should say, Do not trouble yourselves about standards or ideals, but try to be faithful and natural: remember that there is no greatness, no beauty, which does not come from truth to your own knowledge of tilings; and keep on working, even if yoiu- work is not long remembered." Fiction, Present and Future. "Fiction is now a finer art than it has ever been hitherto, and more nearly meets the requirements of the infallible standard. I have hopes of real usefulness in it, because it is at last building on the only sure foundation; but I am by no means certain that it will be the ultimate literary form, or will remain as important as we believe it is destined to become. Oi: the contrary, it is quite imaginable that when the great mass of readers, now sunk in the foolish joys of mere fable, shall be lifted to an interest in the meaning of things through the faithful portrayal of life in fiction, then fiction the most faithful may be superseded by a still more faithful form of contemporaneous history." ♦■»■♦ — OXFOED AND THE ENGLISH SCHOOL. (From an article by Mr. F. York Powell in the Educational Review, by permission of the Editor.) MP HE Hebdomadal Council (which alone lias I the power of initiating University legislation at Oxford) has rejected, by a division of 10 to 9 the proposal to introduce a "statute" for the establishment of a final school of English language and literature. The University has, by this extraordinary decision, been prevented from discussing and deciding a question of the utmost importance. Yet the memorial which Council was thus replying to was one of the most weighty that has been before it for years—no less than 108 persons, comprising nearly every Master of Arts interested in or really qualified to give an opinion u]K)ii the brandies of knowledge for which thev desired to secure the ad- vantages of University patronage and organisation. No reason was given by Council for the rejection of the memorial, and naturally, because the memorial was rejected bv a combination of persons for various reasons and very different motives. It will be remembered that on a big division of 94 to 94. in Convocation, the regular Parliament of the University only a few months ago, the casting vote alone decided against a final school of modern language and literature. According, therefore, to all constitutional ideas, the present denial of discus- sion to a project neither so ambitions nor so novel as a complete modern literature and language school can onlv be regarded as a cunning, but not very credit- able, attempt to burke a measure which would mast probably have been carried had the University assembly been allowed to vote iqioii it. The real opposition comes from two bodies of persons who believe that their interests are at stake, and who will therefore fight bitterly. The first an' those who think the beloved "college system" will be compromised by the demands for instruction which can onlv be met by the creation of fresh college lecturers (to which course, for various reasons, they are opposed), or by allowing their pupils to go to University officials for instruction— a natural proceeding one would have thought, but a proceeding they very cordially dislike. The boarding-school interest, as it has been called, is therefore against the new school. Their companions are persons to whom the college is less important, but to whom the very name of philology is a word of fear. They detest a science thev wot not of; thev are too old or too obstinate to look into the matter for themselves; but they are firmly persuaded that philology spells ruin, and that the proposed school for English literature and language would be nothing more than a mask for the insidious advances of new gram- marians and phoneticians upon an ancient and respectable University. This race of opponents will die out, and that before long; their number lessens rapidly every year. Next come the eccentric people who vote against a school of literature because "you can't examine in literature," and therefore, in order to prevent people trying the experiment, cast out the whole project. Of course, most of the very people who use this argument are examining every year in Greek and llonian literature without difficulty. We may leave them to be converted by facts (as they possibly will be), or to persist in their Partingtonian position. Lastly, among the opponents of the teaching of English at Oxford comes that well-known and  ## p. 277 (#681) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. Z77 not unloved type, the Oxford paradoxist. When lie says literature is such a beautiful thing that he cannot vote for encouraging anyone to learn or teach English literature, that it is really too beautiful for use, one knows he will probably go home contentedly to his college and lecture on Homer or Euripides or Lucretius or Juvenal, who have managed to survive some centuries of hard use in .schools and places where they teach. The paradoxist is, at least, amusing and disinterested. To sum up the situation. It is the wrongly called "college interest" and the foes of philology that really stop the way at Oxford. Their opposi- tion must be counted upon and fought down. This need not take very long. A final school of English language and literature is needed by teachers of all grades and by learners of nil classes in this country. The University needs it as much as any place in England. A reasonable demand supported both inside ami outside the University must soon be granted. ♦•»•♦ TO "BUSY MEN IN GOOD POSITIONS." THERE is si bookseller, librarian, and pub- lisher, who seems, if the slang may be pardoned, to "have got a soft thing on." Tbc following remarks will not, it is hoped, spoil his market. An eminent and popular novelist, a really eminent novelist, and a really popular novelist, whose work is valuable as well as good, received a request from this gentleman that he would do a tiny volume for him. The subject mentioned was one on which the novelist had special knowledge, and this, as the publisher allowed, had dictated tlie choice of author. A most reasonable dictation! Fifteen guineas were offered for 2,5oo words. A most reasonable proposal! And a specimen "tiny volume" was enclosed. Undoubtedly this volume was tiny, and so was the type in which it was printed. In fact, it contained 25,ooo words instead of 2,5oo. The novelist wrote to ask for an explanation. Was the wage offered for the larger number of words contained in the "tiny volume," or for the smaller number of words suggested in the letter? The publisher allowed that it was the larger amount that he required, "and the copyright for his little series." The novelist in expressing his inability to comply with the publisher's request, took the opportunity to point out that it was hardly a compliment to him to have l>een selected as a specialist upon a subject, and then invited to work for six weeks or more at the rate of seven and six- pence a day or less. He also pointed out that, in his opinion, if cheap books could not be produced without sweating the author, they had better not be produced at all. The publisher was hurt. He answered and said that all he wanted was a sketchy thing that could have been put clown in a week. But, O man of business, why apply to a good workman if you wanted bad work? He also said that half the number of words mentioned would have satisfied him. But, again, O man of business, why enclose a s|>ecimen of work, if you do not want an article similar to the specimen? And in justification of his proposal, and in repudiation of the author's remark aliout sweating, he said "the sum I offer is double what I was asked for by the specialist who wrote my other stories .... he is a busy man in a good position." Now, a word of adv ice to this "busy man in a good position" on the chance that it may catch his eye, and the advice applies to all who, ignorant of the value of their work, or con- temptuous of its money returns, accept the first mean offer that is made to them. Quadruple your price. Why divert proper pay from those who want it? Why put money in the publisher's pocket which he ought not to have? If you want to give money away, why not take from the publisher your legitimate pay, so that you may dictate for yourself the direction in which your alms shall go? Of money, Sir, you may lje indifferent, but you should not be indifferent to the power of doing good. BURNS AND SCOTTISH POETRY, "nPHEY were not a people of one poet only, I though that was an impression which some tried to give to the world. They neglected Lindsay and Dunbar. If using poetry for school- books were not the best way to disgust children with poetry, he could wisli that Dunbar and Lindsay were read in Scottish schools as Chaucer was used in English education. The ballads might certainly be so read, for nothing could spoil 'Kinmont Willie ' and 'Jamie Tclfer of the Fair Dodhead.' There was not such a body of ballad poetry so noble, so pathetic, so spirited, so weird in any lan- guage in the world As for the songs— humorous, amorous, Jacobite—songs by ladies who, perhaps, sang only once; by peasants whose names are forgotten, but whose strains are immortal, be did not think it was too characteristic to Bay that no country, except perhaps France and England in  ## p. 278 (#682) ############################################ 27S THE AUTHOR. the Elizabethan age, bad their equals. They might make a Scottish anthology which, considering that they had but five, centuries to choose from, and the Greeks had near 2,000, would rival that of Greece—would be the golden treasury of the North. They bad but to listen a moment, in this din of an age which was not ending in songs, and they beard those sweet, piercing, and melancholy notes from the dead years, eclioes of the horns blown in raids and reivings; echoes of the shep- herd's pipe, of the wedding festival, of the dirge and (lie lament; minstrel Burns grieving for— 'Many a place in evil case, 'Where bhthc folk kenned no sorrow; 'Of Humes that dwelt in Leader braes, 'And Scotts that dwelt in Yarrow.' Tradition wailing for— _' The flowers o1 the forest arc a'wede awa'.' As to the greatest of till, it was needless to speak. In the Odyssey the returned wanderer tells one of bis people that be was come, and 'no other Odysseus will come again for ever.' No other Homer, no other Shakespeare, they might have said, would come again, but both came together in Walter Scott. Verily they were not a people of one lonely poet, though in one Nature combined many of the voices of the past, much of the music of the future, in the good, the generous, the tender, the kindly, the homely, the impassioned Burns, the brightest of our lyrists, the most human of our satirists, the most perfervid of the perfervid Scots. They sometimes lamented that be fell on evil days and evil tongues, they regretted his narrow fortunes, thev blushed for till the reward that bis country gave him. But the Maker and the Master of poets knew best, perhaps, what was fitting, and, had Burns not been lwrn to labour and poverty, be could not have been the poet of poverty and labour. As to his later profession, in the life of Mr. Joseph Train—himself a writer of verse spirited and sincere—they learned how happy and bow bene- ficent, how valuable to letters and to society the life of a Galloway ganger might be. Had Burns been living to-day, would the world that lay around him have been so lit to inspire him with song? The mirth, the sport, the tradition are 'a'wede nwaY London would inevitably have sucked him into its dingy and disastrous Corrievreckan. He would have buttered at the. door of the theatre, be might have scribbled articles for the Press and drunk in Fleet Street, and contributed verses to the magazines. His magnificent genius would luivo licen frittered away in the struggle for life. He was not happy; no man with bis passionate nature could be happy; few men of genius, indeed, have been happy, 'even as mortals count happiness.' They might not be more miserable than others, but oue heard more of it. Whoever represents hu- manity, as Burns represents it, whoever was to utter its voice, as Burns utters it, must know its sufferings in his own heart, and endure them in bis own life. Some bear them belter, as Virgil— 'For gently comes the world to those 'That are cast in gentle mould.' Some carry them more fiercely, as Burns, but endure them all must, who would utter their com- plaint. In the Scottish phrase they were not there as 'doon-heartit loons' to 'make a poor mouth' over Burns, nor greatly to blame the world for its treatment of him. He bad received what lie would have valued more than wealth, or ease, or inglorious life: lie had added renown to the country lie. loved, anil for himself had gained that immortal garland, which was not to lie run for without dust and sweat."—From an Address by Mr. Andrew Lang, reported by the Times of January 26th, 1892. PERIODICAL LISTS OF NEW BOOKS AND NEW EDITIONS PUBLISHED ON THE CONTINENT. THE Author has from its commencement contained a monthly list of English "New Books and New Editions," and if the writer of these lines may judge from bis own experience, this list must have been found convenient and helpful, in different ways, by a great many authors, who will not need to be here reminded how useful the catalogue of "New Books mid New Editions" has on occasions proved, or how much labour of searching it lias sometimes saved them. The nim of the present article is to inform those authors who, having found this English list of use, would like to be provided with a similar periodical register of new publications in such European languages as they may happen to read, where they may procure regular periodical announcements of new books and new editions published in most of the countries of the continent. A word, in parenthesis, 011 the use of biblio- graphies and carefully compiled catalogues. The great assistance afforded by such publications to workers in every department of literature is so well understood by all who have served their apprentice- ship to letters, that experienced authors will probably consider any allusion to the subject superfluous. The case, however, is not quite the same with begin- ners. The literary tyro is generally ceasing to be a tyro when be wakes up to a consciousness of the enormous number of books that have, been already written and are at the present moment being  ## p. 279 (#683) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 279 written, and when ho realises that what other people are writing is n matter of importance to everyone who writes. Then he hegins to see that bibliographies and catalogues are indispensable to some, guides for many, and useful to all. No scientific work can l>e done without the assistance of bibliographies; no solid acquaintance with the belles-lettres of any language can exist apart from them. They save the beginner from undertaking work that has been already done. They discover to those engaged in increasing the sum of human knowledge the firm foundations already laid, upon Which others may securely build. They keep the busy contemporary author informed of all that is going on in the wide world of letters around him. This last service is especially performed by such periodical lists as appear in each number of the Author, anil in the works about to be mentioned below, and it is therefore hoped that the information here offered may be found of service to many. If it l>e found so, the following list may appear again, augmented, the compiler trusts, in a manner that will render the record less imperfect than it now necessarily is, in consequence of the small literary enterprise at present existing in many parts of the continent. In offering this list of periodical announcements of continental publications to the readers of the Author, the compiler begs to call their attention to the following points. The catalogues and bibliographies here enume- rated are not all of the same character. Some arc official publications, sonic trade circulars of various booksellers' unions, some simply announce- ments of new books sent out by leading houses for the convenience of their customers. Some are much more trustworthy than others. Some mention every publication that has appeared within a given period, so far as that is possible. Others record only the, books thought likely to be popular. The list is sadly imperfect. A good deal of trouble has been taken to obtain as far as possible bibliographies of each country, and the list is as complete as it has been found possible to make it. Unfortunately, several countries and several modern literatures have, at the present date, no regular {K>riodical announcements of new publications. This incidentally throws some interesting light upon the present literary activity and inactivity of certain countries. Thus Wallachia has a brave little monthly "catalogue" of new publications, Portugal none, ltussia and Poland have good monthly lists, and Bohemian books appear in the Austrian Booksellers' Correspondence. Put regular announcements of works in the other Slavonic languages are, just at present, lacking. Both the Slovansky Katalog, which contained all Slavonic literatures except Itussian, and the quarterly Anzeiger fitr Slavische IJtemtur, which contained works in all the Slavonic languages, have ceased to appear. Something that would take their place is a desideratum with Slavonic scholars. The literatures of the most unini]>ortant European languages, whose few publications are carefully recorded in learned periodicals, supported by scholars interested in special studies, are in better case than the literatures of Portugal, Servia, and Bulgaria. It has seemed, as a general rule, best to give the titles and addresses in the language of the periodical, and the rest of the information in English. In some cases a few notes, in square brackets, have been added, conveying information which appeared useful but was not contained in the periodical itself. The prices named arc those announced as the prices of the periodicals at the places of publication. Many mention a second higher price charged abroad or in the provinces. But in any case the purchaser in London will expect to \my considerably more. In the case of gratuitously circulated cata- logues too much reliance must not be placed upon receiving them, even when the postage is lor wan led. Most of the catalogues here named may l>e seen at Mr. D. Nutt's, 270, Strand. Bound volumes (not current numbers) of those marked * will be found in the British Museum Beading Boom. Press BB.B. Continental Literature in General. Monthly list of new books published in Germany, France, England, America, Italy, Spain, Scandi- navia, Bussia, and other countries. London : David Nutt, 270, Strand. [Annual subscription, is. A catalogue of selected works of a very handy sort. It may be fairly said to contain all recent foreign books of any real and general importance.] Scandinavia. Nordisk Boghandletertidende. Editor: E. Jes- persen. Published by the " Boghandlerforeningen." Copenhagen. Quarterly subscription, y5 ore [equal al>out lod. Published every Friday. Con- tains Danish, Norse, and Swedish publications]. Germany. Allgemeine Bibliographic fiir Deutschlaud. A weekly catalogue of all novelties in the German l>ook trade. Leipzic: J. C. Hinricbs. [Animal subscription, 7 marks 5o.]  ## p. 280 (#684) ############################################ z8o THE AUTHOR. Monutlickes Verzeichniss der Neuigkeiten und Fortsetzungen des Deutschen Buchhandels. [Same publisher. The contents are the .same as those of the " Allgemeine Bibliographic," but alphabetically arranged under authors' names. This catalogue is supplied only to subscribers to the "Borsenblatt fiir den Deutschen Buchlmndel."] Vierteljahrs-Catalog aller neuen Erscheinungen im Felde der Literatur in Deutschland. Wissen- schaftlich geordnct. [Same publishers. A quar- terly compendium of the contents of the "Allge- meine Bibliographic" Annual subscription, 9 marks.] •Verzeichniss der neu erschienen und neuauf- gelegten Biicher, Landkarten, etc. [Same pub- lishers. Appears half-yearly, and contains a Subject Index, as well as complete bibliography of the German publications of the previous .six months. Price of the volume (bound) varies; about 6 marks.] The following bibliography may also b? found useful to scholars :— Bibliographischer Monatsbericht iiber neu crschieuene Schul-und Universitiitsschriftcn. (Dissertationen. — Programmabhandlongen. — Habilitationsschriften, etc.) Leipsic. Gustav Fock, publisher. [Appears monthly. Annual subscription, 2 marks. Contains Classical Philology and Antiquities, Orientalia, Theology, Philosophy, Educational works, History and cognate subjects, Law, Political Economy,' Medi- cine, Natural Sciences, Exact Sciences, Chemistry.] Holland. Nederlandsche Bibliographic. Catalogue of new books, maps, etc. published in the Netherland and its foreign possessions. The Hague. Mart in us Nijhoff, publisher. [Apj>ears monthly. Annual subscription, 1 florin.] Belgium. ♦Bibliographic de Belgique. Journal officiel de la librarie paraissant le ier et le i5 de chaqne inois. A. Manceaux, editeur. Bue des Trois-Tetes, 12, Bruxelles. Abonnement annuel 4 francs. [Contains French, Flemish, and "Walloon publi- cations. An annual index of authors' names.] .France. Bibliographic de la France Journal general de l'imprimerie et de la librairie. Publid sur les Documents fournis jwir le Ministere de l'Intericur. Paraissant tous les Samedis. Au Cercle de la librairie, boulevard Saint Germain, 117. Paris. Abonnement: un an, 20 francs. [Annual indexes. Alphabetical index of titles. Alphabetical index of authors. Alphabetical index of new periodicals. "Table systematique," arranged under subject headings. This publication is the queen of periodical bibliographies.] Catalogue mensuel de la Librairie Francaise. Publisher, K. Nilsson. 8, Rue d'Alger. Paris. [Api>ears monthly and contains the principal works published in France, and in the French language in other countries. Annual subscription, 2 francs 5o. An alphabetical list of authors is published at the end of the year. Price, 2 francs.] Switzerland. •Bibliographic et chronique litteraire de la Suisse. Parait un fois par inois. Editeur, H. Georg. Bale. Prix par an, 4 francs. [Contains French, German, and Italian publications, and has a short annual index of authors' names.] Italy. •Giornale della Libreria della tipografia e delle urti e Industrie aflini. Published by the Associa- zionc Tipografico-Libraria Italiana. Milan. Via S. Giuseppe. No. 5. Published every Sunday. Annual subscription, 6 lire = 6 francs. The Bibliographia Italiana is published every fortnight, and not sold separately, but with the above journal. Annual subscription, 20 lire = 20 francs. [Two indexes every six months; one, alphabetical, of authors' names; the other arranged under subject- headings.] Novita della Letteratura Italiana. Published monthly by Ubrico Hocpli. Milan. Galleria De- Cristoforis, Nos. 59-63. These catalogues are distributed gratuitously to customers. Spain. •Bolctin de. la Libreria. Published monthly by M. Murillo. Madrid. Calle de Alcala, No. 7. Annual subscription, 20 reales = about 5 francs. [Two annual indexes: one of new works; authors' names, and titles of books alphabetically arranged together: the other of old works, similarly arranged.] Austria. Oesterreichisch-ungarische Buchhaudler-Corre- Rpondenz. Editor, A. Einsle. Published every Saturday. Vienna. Bieinergasse, No. 11. Annual subscription, 8 florins =16 marks. [Contains German, Bohemian, and Slovakian publications.]  ## p. 281 (#685) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 281 Hungary. Corvina. Organ of the Hungarian Booksellers' Union. Published on the 10th, 20th, and 3oth of every month. Editor, Aigner Lajos. Proprietors, The Hungarian Booksellers' Union. A Magyar Konyvkereskedok egylete. Budapest. Zsibarus Ulca, No. 1. [No price mentioned; appears to Ik? circulated amongst members of the union and their customers.] Wallaciiia. Catnlogu Mensual al Librfiriei Romaue. Pub- lished by Sosecu & Co. Bucharest. Calea Victoriel. No. 21. This catalogue is distributed gratuitously to customers. Russia. HnHXBbia IIoboctii. A monthly extract from the "Literary Messenger." Published by K. L. Rikker, St. Petersburg. Nevsky Prospect. No. 14. [Annual subscription, about 2s.? This catalogue contains Russian and Ruthenian = Little Russian publications. It is unique in mentioning in every case the number of copies constituting the edition.] Poland. Przewodnik Bibliograficzny. Published on the 1st of each month by G. Gebethner, Cracow. Annual subscription, 1 florin 25 cents. Greece. hi^XtoyfoupiKw AcXtuv. Published monthly by G. Kasdones. Athens. Bi/3Xiott&>X€i<>v tij$ 'Eor/af. Distributed gratis. [Contains, besides bibliography, occasional scraps of literary intelligence. Recent numbers have failed to reach Loudon, and the publication may, perhaps, have been abruptly discontinued.] As the publications above mentioned will be of use principally to students of foreign languages the following most valuable bibliography of all philo- logical and linguistic publications of all countries may be mentioned by way of conclusion. •Bibliotheea Philologica oder vierteljiihrliche systematisch geordnete Ucbersicht der auf dein Gebiete der gesainmten Philologie in Deutschlaud und dem Auslande neu erschieneuen Schrifteu und Zeitschriften-Aufsiitze. Herausgegeben von August Blau. Dr. phil. Giittingen. Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht. Annual subscription, 5 marks. [British Museum Reading Room. BB.T. c. 6.] Henry Cresswei.l. CORRESPONDENCE. 1. Illustration. To the Editor of the Author. Sir, It has been suggested that the observations you permitted me to make in the November number of the Author, on the "misuse of processes," would have been more practical if I had given any examples from lx>oks lately published. To do this at all thoroughly would take up too much space, and lead too far into technicalities. But it may be interesting, and useful, to take from the shelves of an editor's room two small books waiting for review; one with the fascinating title of " The Stream of Pleasure," the other " The Blue Poetry Book," by Andrew Lang. The illus- trations to "The Stream of Pleasure" are by that well-known artist Mr. Joseph Pennell, and are reproduced, for the most part, by mechanical (photo- relief) processes. They are interesting in a high degree as showing how an artist of great ability and experience can go wrong. I know of no book published last year in which so many drawings have been injured in reproduction. (See pages 72 and gg as examples in two different methods, tone and line, of "how not to do it,"—given a clever artist and the adjuncts of good paper and printing); and yet, if there is one man who should l>e able to show the way to draw for reproduction, it is the author of Pen and Pencil! All this is very hard upon the makers of "process" blocks. Turn from "The Stream of Pleasure" to "The Blue Poetry Book," illustrated by Mr. Lance- lot Speed, an artist whose work, from a purely artistic point of view, cannot be compared to that of Mr. Pennell, but who has a knowledge of technique,—and of the possibilities and limitations of the art of drawing for " process,"—equal, if not superior to, anyone in England. Some of your readers—artists, publishers or reviewers—may be "surprised to learn," on turning over the pages of "The Blue Poetry Book," that all the illustrations are reproduced by the same cheap processes as the line drawings in Mr. Pennell's lxx>k, and the latter artist's Russian drawings in the Illustrated London News of December 12th! I could quote other instances, but the above may serve. The serious side, as it seems to me, is not so much the mystification of reviewers as to methods of illustration, as the misleading and disheartening effect on students when they see the work of experts going so very wrong. I am, yours faithfully, Henry Blackburn. 123, Victoria Street, Westminster, 12th January i8g2.  ## p. 282 (#686) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. n. The New American Society. A correspondent writes to us concerning tliis new Society. "Our Association is growing in a surprising degree in the face of opposition arising, on the one hand, from persons whose self-interest is jeopardized, and, on the other, from a class too timid or cowardly or supine to demand a right. In addition to these two there is, perhaps, a third force operative against the progress of the measure; but combined, or singly, they will not prevail. "In this country, favourable to swift growth, conditions are auspicious to advancement, if there is this resolution to advance; and there is swift response to appeal for fair play, if that appeal is loud and broad enough to reach the people. "Already our Society has vice-presidents and auxiliaries in almost every State and territory of the United States, and will soon have them in all. It is not true that publishers who rob authors are rare in this country; on the contrary, they are so many that it may be said that the honourable men in the business are the exception, not the rule. Heretofore every whisper of this condition was carefully suppressed. The knowledge of it once diffused, it is greatly mitigated, if not abolished, in America, for it is against the spirit of the nation— the whole nation—to favour a wholesale pitiful thieving of that kind after it has been thoroughly made known Our Society will do a grcflt work. It is bound to demand nothing but the right." III. Press Copies. A correspondent calls attention to the fact that popular religious books as well as little story books are sometimes sent about broadcast to the papers. And another suggests that educational books are sent out in large numbers. Both statements are, doubtless, quite true. My own statement is also quite true. When one speaks of serious literature one does not exactly mean little story books or popular religious works. The "Lux Mundi," for instance, would not be sent out broadcast, but to a small and carefully chosen list of papers. As for educational books, they are sent out in large numbers, not to the papers, but to head masters. Sonic publishers are getting very chary of their books. I know a ease in which one book only—it was by a well-known author—was sent for review. It was to the Times. And the publisher always said that the absence of any other notice made no difference whatever to the book. W. B. IV. A Plea fob the Mild Domestic Novel. The feminine reading public owes the Author a debt for gently protesting against Mr. Andrew Lang's desire to witness a massacre of that poor innocent, " the common, mild, middle class domestic novel." If Mr. Lang's wish were carried out, lamentation and weeping would certainly lie heard in the land. I myself do not read the mild domestic novel, but I know many women who do, and I believe it is a mistake to suppose that " ladies in these cases are apt to let the supply regulate the demand." In what way is a taste for the mild domestic novel more reprehensible or regretable than a taste for the shilling shockers and three volume thrillers, which try to make up by wild improbability of scene and incident for slipshod writing and vacuous silliness? Is the mild domestic novel inferior in workmanship or good sense to the society novel flavoured with a little "sport," which delights the soul of the ordinary male novel reader? The ladies who make from fifty to a hundred pounds a year by supplying the mild domestic article—they have no monopoly of the trade, and gentlemen compete with them—deserve congratulation rather than reprobation, and when that happy day comes when the publisher no longer "sweats" the author, their incomes will increase astonishingly. Mr. Lang is frankly contemptuous of the femi- nine reading public, towards which Mr. Besant shows himself kindly condescending. We note the kindness, but the condescension also. Yet both these gentlemen owe a heavy debt of gratitude to "the ladies." Could they make inquiries they would probably find out that for every male reader they have ten female ones, or should 1 say twenty? The novelist or writer of literary essays who estranged tin; feminine reading public would indeed find his "occupation gone." Is the literary taste of the average (non-literary) Englishwoman less critical or at all inferior to that of the ordinary (non-literary) Englishman? I believe it to be on tin? whole superior. One wonders what Mr. Lang would projiose to give us in the place of the " common, mild, middle- class domestic novel," and there are indications which lead one to suppose that he would substitute unlimited "adventure stories," and the works of Dumas jiere. Well, thousands of Englishwomen have doubtless taken pleasure in " Treasure Island" and also in "Solomon's Mines," but a woman's taste for what are, strictly speaking, " boy's books" usually dies out before she is far on in her teens. A taste for Dumas should be cultivated early, and his works are not often to be found in girl's schoolrooms. The pai»cr covered volumes of the forcigu library are a more tempting substitute.  ## p. 283 (#687) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. The writer of this letter takes refuge alike from the mild domestic novel and the tale of the wild and wonderful in foreign fiction, which she believes to be quite harmless to her personally, but which certainly is not mild. But should those Indies in "deperately dull houses" of whom Mr. Besant speaks so feelingly (plenty of desperately dull houses, by the way, may l)e found in London), take to reading one hundred and thirty French novels a year, she would hesitate to regard the change as an improvement, and so she imagines would Mr. Lang. S. P. [I hope that the condescension attributed to me by the author of this letter was not observed in my remarks by any other reader.—W.B.] V. HOW? "I, myself, and I think a great many others would be very glad to get some information on two points which have always interested me. 1 want to know how a book gets read, that is, in what way the general public living all over the world gets to hear of a book, and is stimulated to read it? Next, I want to know how a book gets sold, that is to say, who buys the book, and how it is supplied? In the old days there were booksellers' shops. These exist still, but in number and importance quite out of proportion to the vast increase of the book trade. The Author is always insisting that we should learn all we can about the management of our property. Here is a branch of the management about which I, for one, know nothing." A Member. VI. Gerald Massey. "In the list of minor poets enumerated the other day by Mr. Traill, I observe a very curious omission. The name of Gerald Massey is not among them. Surely this is accidental. Gerald Massey's verse has been so long before the world, he has so many fine qualities, and so many admirers, that a list of living poets is incomplete without his name. The same may be said for Dr. W. C. Bennett." T. FROM THE PAPERS. I. Modern Poets. THERE are plenty of facts which warn us how difficult it is to generalise safely about lite- rature, and especially about poetry. At pre- sent we live under high pressure, as Mr. Lang, like so many other critics, has reminded us. We live among railways and telegraphs, and under conditions of instantaneous communication which enormously increase what Sir Arthur Helps used to call social pressure. Nothing less favourable to poetry, as the world used to believe, could be imagined; and yet we have around us a volume <Jf good poetical production greater, perhaps, than England ever saw before. Perhaps we have no Burns, but we have a crowd of excellent writers of verse, the least of whom would have been thought much of had he lived in Burns's day and written as he writes now. A critic in one of the recent magazines has taken the trouble to enu- merate quite sixty English writers of the present day, to whom, without any great indulgence, the name "poet" may be applied. There are major and minor among them, of course, and we may safely cut out half as not really important. But, even so, that leaves a larger numl>er than were ever to be found before producing work of that quality. Some of the names arc obvious, and every constant reader of poetry endeavours to keep up with whatever conies from the hand of our three chief poets—idas ! they were five before Browning and Matthew Arnold died. But beyond this small circle, how many writers of pure vein there are! How perfect are some lyrics of Stevenson; how noble the l>est order of Coventry Patmore; how tender and gracious the muse of Aubrey de Vere; how finished is Robert Bridges; how gem- like are the "vignettes" of Austin Dobson; how original, under their borrowed form, are the "ballades" of Mr. Lang himself! It may be that the highest poetry, which grows from seeds that are sown no one knows how, or when, or where, is best developed in a less crowded and less com- petitive society than ours; but it would at least appear that the mnnysidedness of modern life anil the width of modern culture bring their compen- sations with them. The greatest poet, whose home is "the general heart of men," may, perhaps, Ixdong only to a simpler world; though the question cannot be solved till either a Burns arises in modern London or till the world comes to an end. But, on the other hand, it does not seem probable that of literary poets, charming, elegant,  ## p. 284 (#688) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. and masters of their craft, there will ever cease to l>e a copious supply.—From the Times, January 26th, 1892. II. Names and Wokk. A wail comes from New England. The true literary worker, says he who waileth, is pushed aside to make room for the millionaire, the society woman, actresses, English lords and ladies, and "asinine royalties." He goes on to explain that the English nobilities have the pleasure of paying for their productions, which nobody buys or reads. In that case the English nobilities cannot do any injury to American or English litterateurs. We, therefore, on our side are blameless in this matter. Again, as we on this side do not read the feeble lwoks produced by American millionaires, we are not harmed by them. In fact, I am quite certain that l)oth here and across the water the production of feeble books, whether written by well-known people or not, does no harm either to literature or to men of letters. They are produced; they fall; they die; they are forgotten; they are more ephemeral than the day's paper, which does get read and produces its effect; and as nobody buys feeble books the true worker is not hurt. I have never been able to feel any sympathy with wratli— which seems to me simulated—over harmless little blocks of paper in guise of books. Let them be printed; they make work and jmiv for publishers, printers, paper-makers, book-binders, and adver- tising columns. And nol>odv reads them; and nobody is a bit the worse for them, except the author, who pays. However, this American writer, Mr. W. B. Harte {New England Magazine), seems to think he has a real grievance, and this is what he says. His remarks about certain noble English authors are omitted, not so much because they are uncom- plimentary as because they are superfluous. "We are told by the publishers that to-day is the day of 'big things' in literature. The ordinary old-fashioned means of achieving success are no longer adequate. This means book-making, not writing. The ' big things ' are books by men who have become famous or notorious—more often the latter—in finance, in politics, or on the turf, whose names, publishers say, attract the attention and pique the curiosity of the public. It is not big things by big literary men, but little things by men with big names, and usually an amazing illiteracy. "The late Admiral Porter's novels found pub- lishers because he was Admiral Porter, and for no other reason, William Waldorf Aster is a novelist too, and of course, being the head of the Astor family, he experiences no difficulty in finding a publisher, and perhaps less difficulty in obtaining the highest praise in the press. If James G. Blaine could 1x3 persuaded to write a novel, and draw his hero sitting before his own mirror, he would probably realise a million dollars for it. All the world would like to know what Mr. Blaine thinks of Mr. Blaine. Chauneey M. Depew, I am told, was offered a salary of one hundred thousand dollars a year for five years, if he would write editorials for one of the big newspapers. He probably thought his stock of old stories would not last as long as the contract demanded. He de- clined the offer. Senator Ingalls is credited with having refused two offers—one of ten thousand dollars a year, and another of twenty-five thousand dollars a year, to furnish three editorials a month to one of the leading periodicals of the country. This is probably a fish story, for it is said that Mr. Ingalls lives principally u]>on his literary work, now that he is not busy at Washington, and a man that lives by literary work would not be likely to refuse twenty-five thousand dollars a year for thirty-six flimsy editorials. There are other rumours that Mr. Thomas Piatt and Mr. Thomas B. Heed, and Mrs. Harrison, the President's wife, are also pes- tered with invitations to l>ecome literary lights. Mrs. P. T. Barnum has already made her debut in literature, and a startling debut it was. In Boston, every woman you meet in society has written at least one novel, and in New York the per-centage is abcut every other woman." III. Copyright in Lectures. THE forthcoming volume of hitherto unpub- lished lectures by Carlyle "On Successive Periods of European Culture" appears likely to give rise to some rather subtle questions of literary property. Practically the " Lectures Copy- right Act, 1835," has been a dead letter owing to its vexatious conditions. Where the lecture, how- ever, has not been given to the world, save by word of mouth, equity has been more kind, and Lord Eldon, in Abernethy's case, and Mr. Justice Kay, in the case of Nichols v. Pitman, eight or nine, years ago, laid it down that, whether the lecture had been committed by the lecturer to writing before delivery or not, a member of the audience would have no right to publish it for profit from shorthand notes. The contents of the forthcoming volume seem to have been obtained in this way when the lectures were delivered in 1838 at an institution near Portraan Square. Possibly they  ## p. 285 (#689) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. were read by Carlyle from an existing manuscript, in which case the right of his personal represen- tatives to restrain publication would be unques- tionable. It is possible, on the other hand, that they were mere orations that were never committed by the author to wiling either before or after delivery, in which case there would be nothing wherewith to compare the forthcoming book on the question of infringement. It is a curious feature in the case that if the representatives of the reporter, who was probably the only pei^on who took these lectures down, cannot be restrained, they will, though they are neither the author nor the assignees of the author, virtually have secured a copyright in the book running for forty-two years; because though the original source may have been open to all, one man may not copy another man's report. These are the lectures of which Leigh Hunt said that it seemed "as if some Puritan had come to life again, liberalised by German philosophy and his own intense reflections and experience j" but a Scotch gentleman, who was also present, was only moved to exclaim, "Can any living man point to a single practical passage in these lectures? and if not, what is Mr. Carlyle himself but a phantom ?"— Dally News, January 6th, 1892. IV. A New Tkerob. Again does English law come forward with a decision calculated to develop the bump of caution in publishers. A firm in Sydney issued a sub" scription work in two volumes, entitled "Aus- tralian Men of Mark." A certain subscriber declined to take the books, on the ground that his own biography did not appear therein, although the promise had been made him that it should so appear. The publishers brought suit to compel performance of contract, but the Chief Justice of New South Wales, Sir Frederick Darley, threw them out of court. His decision took a wider range than the contention of the defendant that a private understanding had been violated, and was based upon the broad ground that the contents of the book did not correspond to its title. He declared that the biographies it contained were of merely local celebrities, who had no right to lie considered as Australian men of mark. In view of this fact, the Chief Justice decided not only that the defendant should be acquitted, but that, in general, all contracts entered into on account of the book were null and void. This certainly adds a new difficulty to the traditional ones of an author in choosing a title for his writings. Of what avail to select a taking name, when it may only result in a prosecution for obtaining money under false pretences? Particularly ominous is this decision for the publishers of such works as "The Best Books" or "The Greatest Thing in the World." A buyer with a different standard of judgment from the author's may hereafter throw such books back on the publishers with a demand for a refund. The principle must apply to sub-titles also, and this suggests tin; danger of appending "a poem" or "a farce " to an otherwise legally unobjectionable title.—The Nation (New York), January 7, 1892. V. Literature and the State. "He has l>een loudly blamed for his insensibility to literary merit; so far, at least, as such sensibility is shown by distribution of the funds and patronage of the Crown. We do not know what were his principles as to such matters, for during his 20 years of government he was, though assailed by Mathias and Montagu, never taken to task in Parliament on that subject. This fact, while it deprived us of his explanation, throws so remark- able a light on contemporary opinion as possibly to illnstrate his own. If he was convinced that literature, like war, thrived l>est upon subsidy, he was culpable indeed. But it Ls conceivably possible that he may have thought differently. He may have lielieved that money does not brace but relax the energies of literature; that more Miltons have remained mute and inglorious under the suffocation of wealth than under the frosts of penury; that, in a word, half the best literature of the world has been produced by duns. Pension- less poetry may at least bear comparison with that which has flourished upon bounties. Under the chill rays of Pitt, we had Burns, Wordsworth, Cowper, Southey, Scott, Coleridge, Canning, Cralle, Joanna Baillie, Rogers; and even under the tropical effusion of twelve hundred a year, dispensed in heat-drops of fifty or a hundred pounds apiece, we have had nothing conspicuously superior. It is not easy at any rate to cite the names of many eminent men of letters who have received material assistance from the State since the time of Pitt, Hook, and Moore had reason even to curse the ill-judged bounty of their country, and yet they were provided with lucrative offices. Nothing, Pitt may have thought, is so difficult as for a Parliamentary Government to encourage literature. It may begin by encouraging a Shakespeare, but it is far more likely to discover a Pye. You start with a genius and end with a job."  ## p. 286 (#690) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. The above is from Lord Rosebcrv's "Pitt." It is a jMissage wortli reading. But the author is not probably aware that all sueeessive Governments have followed the example of Pitt in his insensibility to literary claims. It is true that they get every year £1,200 for literature, science, and art, but as they always give it away to widows and daughters of men in the Army, Navy, and Civil Services, literature remains where it was in the days of Pitt. VI. The Commonest Delusions. Beginners in literature nurse one delusion with singular persistence. Next to the confidence that they have in their own genius, the strongest basis of all their hopes of success is the imaginary" friend at court," whose interposition in their behalf is one day to launch them into the full tide of fame and fortune. The most pathetic part of every well-established writer's experience is connected with the letters he receives from ambitious young people, who fancy that all they need is a note of recommendation. The covert meaning of these letters is that the beginner has extraordinary talent, against which all the editors have studiously set their faces. Of course, such a theory is known to be preposterous by every competent writer who easts a glance back over the road by which he lias come to success in his profession. No amount of friendly recom- mendation can advance the interests of an aspirant for literary rewards. The editor cares not a lig for any man's "influence"; the publisher depends upon his well-paid literary advisers. This is so, and it is right tliat it is so. The vision of a " friend at court" is at best a dishonest vision. The writer who indulges it loses self-respect with every glance, every thought, every calculation connected with it. A friend at court is a lobbyist, who is to work the writer's manuscripts into the favour of editor or publisher by means of a powerful influence not inherent in the manuscript itself. In the first place, the man or woman who would accept any success in literary life, save that com- pelled by the intrinsic value of art and thought, could never feel a clear right to what is highest and best in that life. Doubtless young persons whose imaginations have become inflamed by literary ambition do not fully realise the shame of contem- plating any means of forcing accomplishment save simple desert. From America. ■ "AT THE AUTHOR'S HEAD." Who wrote the poem called "The Children," ascribed to Charles Dickens? Mr. Douglas Sladen sends an interesting note on the subject to the Atherueum of January 16. When in New York in i88g he was introduced by Mr. E. C. Stedman to Mr. Charles M. Dickinson as the real author of the ]K)em. In his book called "Younger American Poets," Mr. Sladen has included the }>oem with the name of Mr. Dickinson as author, on that gentle- man's own authority. He then received a letter from a lady in Australia stating that the real author of the poem was a certain man named Zachariah Sutcliffe, who died in Melbourne in 1891. This Sutclifte, the lady stated, possessed an auto- graph letter from Charles Dickens, thanking him for sending a copy of the poem, and expressing admiration of it. Where is that autograph letter, and what can Mr. Dickinson tell us of the circumstances attendant upon the birth of the poem? Mr. Justin Huntly McCarthy has in the press a volume of Selections from Hattz. The book will be published by Nutt. Mr. Eugene Field in the Chicago News attacks those who use the word wended. He says there, is no such word. "Infinitive, To wend; \ti\si, went." Yes, but there is nothing to exclude the other form of the past. One would rather sin with Scott than be correct with Mr. Eugene Field. A lady of San Francisco, Mrs. Flora Haines Longhead, has begun the publication of her novels, with the simple assistance of a bookseller. John Ituskin has long done the same thing with his works. There is no reason at all why, with some simple machinery of an agent or salesman, authors of standing should not imitate this example. Is the time ripe for such a step? That it will be taken before long no one who can read the temper and spirit of the times can possibly doubt. Mr. Joseph Hatton has in the press a volume of reminiscences called "Cigarette Papers." Mr. Hatton's experience has been so wide and varied that the work ought to be most interesting. It is when such a book as Mackail's " Epigrams from the Ci reek Anthology" (Longmans) appears that we regret not having space to give for such a review as would do justice to a volume produced by a scholar for scholars. When our members are numbered by the thousand instead of by the hundred, the Author will be able to do justice to such books as these—rare and few and far between.  ## p. 287 (#691) ############################################ THE AUTHOR. 287 Mr. Brander Matthews has published (Chatto and Windus) in London his "Dramatic Essays of Charles Lamb." There is an introductory essay of his own which is well worthy of the subject. Mr. Matthews is one of the very few English speaking writers who can speak about the theatre and thinjr* dramatic. A pamphlet entitled, " Intemperance: its Causes and Remedies," by Mr. W. Beatty-Kingston, is about to be published by Messrs. Routledgc & Co. Mr. C. J. Wills has in the press "His Sister's Hand," a novel in three volumes, to be published in January, and, to be published in March, "In and about Bohemia," a collection of short stories. The publishers of both books are Messrs. Griffith and Farran. Professor Middleton has in the press :— 1. "The Lewis collection of Engraved Gems," with an introductory essay. One vol., 8vo. Clay and Sons, Cambridge. 2. "The Remains of Ancient Rome." Two vols., 8vo. A. and C. Black, London. (This month.) 3. "The Art and Technique of Illuminated MSS." One vol., large 8vo. Cambridge University Press. (In press.) Mr. Thomas Macquoid's new novel is to be published by Messrs. Innes & Co. It will be in two volumes. The title is "Maisie Derrick," and the work will be ready shortly. The Clarendon Press will shortly issue a thin quarto volume, containing twelve facsimiles of pages of important Old English MSS., from the Ninth to the Fifteenth Century, accompanied by transcriptions and a palasogrophical introduction by Professor Skeat. This is, in some degree, a new departure. There is no reason why reproductions from old manuscripts should not become familiar to all who care for them. A little monthly journal—the youngest and the smallest—has been sent to me. It contains, on four pages, nothing at all but songs written for music. The writers of these songs pay so much for insertion of their productions, which are classified under the heads of Nautical, Amatory, Martial—is it without meaning that the love songs stand between the Nautical and the Martial, between the Sailor and the Soldier?—Sacred, Pathetic, Humourous, and Tragic. Each poet affixes the price of his verses for the information of the happy composer who may secure them. In the Humourous, one remarks, we do not excel. The Editor promises to post the paper to as many composers as he can find. Why not? The verses are not a bit worse than most of those which form our popular ditties. The rhymes are our dear old familiar ones: The wavelet gleams and the maiden dreams: the Pilgrim sings his Song of Faith and the Matin Bell awakes: the reaper touches his brow and angels bear him home: when the lilies bloom again, my love, when the lilies bloom again. For thou art the star of night, and I am a shadow apart, longing for one ray of light to gladden the shade of my heart. Let us wish every success to the song writers. Perhaps they have got their chance at last. Vol. V. of "Bible True from the Beginning," by the Rev. E. Gough, B.A., is just issued. It deals with early portions of the Gospels. Mr. M. Powis Bale's book on Steam Pumps and Pumping (Crosby Lockwood and Son) is going into a second edition. It will be ready early this month. Mr. Charles T. C. James's new novel, entitled "Holy Wedlock," will appear almost immediately in a single volume (Ward and Downey). A fourth edition of "Nature's Fairyland," by Mr. H. W. L. Worsley-Benison (Elliot Stock,5*.), has been issued. The following books, by Miss Seliua Gaye, have been recently published by T. Nelson and Sons: "Dickie Winton, or Between Gate and Front Door," "All's Well that Ends Well," being a reprint of "A Storm in a Tea-cup," "Ilka, the Captive Maiden, and other Stories from Hungarian History." Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson has in the press a volume of Essays, which will be published by Messrs. Chatto and Windus next month. We learn from the Athenaum that Mr. Steven- son has also ready a volume on Samoa, and the novel written in collaboration with Mr. Lloyd Osborn, which has l>een running in Scribner. Mr. Walter Besant will bring out in April, in volume form (Chatto and Windus), the papers which he has contributed to Harpers' Magazine during the last nine months on London. The papers, which had to be cut down to meet the limited space of the magazine, will be published as they were 'written, with additions. Mr. John Underbill has in the press (Walter Scott & Co.), a selection from the Athenian Oracle. There will be an introductory essay by Mr. Underhill, and a letter by Mr. Walter Besant.  ## p. 288 (#692) ############################################ 288 THE AUTHOR. Mr. Wilfred Meynell has in press a monograph on Cardinal Manning. No one is more fitted for the task, if long friendship can constitute fitness. When an author arrives at the dignity of being the subject of critical essays and a bibliography, it is a sign that there is not much left between him- self and the top of the tree. This is the case with Mr. Thomas Hardy. The first number of the Albemarle is pre- mising. To say that some of the articles are good because they are short may sound hardly com- plimentary, but it is the case. For example, the head master of Haileybury's little essay makes us all understand the Greek question at schools. We may agree, or we may not, with his answer, but at any rate we know what the question is. And that, we take it, is a distinct advance for most of us. Mr. Oscar Browning's article on the Primrose League is witty and pretty, and Miss Mabel Robinson's Storicule—to poach from Punch—is a very clever and pathetic sketch. One of the later volumes of the Pseudonym Library, " Some Emotions and a Moral," by John Oliver Hobbes, has just fallen into my hands. It is a brilliant little book! There is no story —that is to say, not much—but it is brilliant. And who is John Oliver Hobbes? You swear first that it is a man, and next, from a touch, a word, a way of presentment, that it is a woman, but you can never be quite certain which it may be. The writing is so good that it suggests the influence of many summers and much experience; yet I think the author is young. There is a curious sort of contempt for all that so many frail mortals find fascinating, running through the whole story, and this, I think, is more likely to have sprung from early cleverness than from later disillusion. But, I repeat, a brilliant little book! FOR DISPOSAL. Two £5o shares in a well-known leading Review. Apply to J.N., care of Secretary. NEW BOOKS AND NEW EDITIONS. Theology. Alexander, Wm., D.D. The Leading Ideas of the Gospels. Macmillan. 6s. Alford, B. H. Nutford Place Sermoni. Preached in St. Luke's Church by. David Stott. Bird, Rev. J. J. L. The Homilist. A Magazine for all who are engaged in preaching, teaching, or studying the Word of God. Edited by. Volume LXII. Houlston, Paternoster Buildings, E.G. 7s. 6d. Bevan, A. A., M.A. A short Commentary on the Book of Daniel, for the use of Students. At the Cambridge University Press. Brooke, Kev. S. A. "Short Sermons." Macmillan and Co. 6s. Church, Dean. Village Sermons preached at Whatley by the late. Macmillan. 6s. Hughes, Rev. H. Price. Ethical Christianity: A Series of Sermons. "Preachers of the Age " Series. With Portrait. Sampson Low. 3s. 6<f. Hugh-Games, Vex. Archdeacon. The One Book. A Treatise on the unique character of the Bible. Hunt, Paternoster Row. 3*. 6<f. 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