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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) 1892-06-01 Volume 3 Issue 1 Pages Page range in volume 1–40 Ngram Date Version of the date in YYYYMMDD format for use by the Ngram plugin 18920601 Ngram Text Version of the text with no HTML formatting for use by the Ngram plugin he Muthor. (The Organ of the Incorporated Society of Authors. Monthly.) CONDUCTED BY WALTER BESANT. Vou. ITI.—No. 1.] JUNE 1, 1892. [PRIcE SIXPENCE. ee AT TS CONTENTS. SPST PAGE PAGE Warnings ae ce as ae mae Boe be ae Sd Se Mixed Maxims... a as sey Sis aD hes on ces How to Use the Society : eae es ae Boe ee ie Ode to Sleep ... te cee ee et a ao wi Sra LD! The Authors’ Syndicate... a ae ies ae ce ageless Notes from Paris... “a oo act sar An sas Negrcke | Notices... eee oe cs ae oes ee ae 2 we To Music eee ce ac on aoe eae wae es ag ek | International Copyright— The Jew in Literature. By Hall Caine... aes He baz eee ae i I—Working of the Law in France axe ey ees ae es On Literature— Tl.—American Piracy... a ave a aN Sy ee I.—At the Royal Literary Fund ... a aes os nec oe Ill.—Literary Theft ... ae ase aus aes as at oe Il.—At the Royal Academy Dinner See See ahs ees eore | On Royalties ... ee Ss es any ey ee Ree ee F From the Papers— | On Deferred Royalties eo as a ere ae she 8 I.—Fiction Manufactured by the Yard ... ies Se was oe Fi : Two Cases of Conveying ... a a aus as a eae IL—A Curious Experiment ... ae mee aes ae eee, 028 5 A Literary Bureau ... ies es sae — wai oe cia IiI.—Personal ... ve ea nee bed my oe we 22k i erertperatieinmn cece a D¥:—Bhomas Moore ..0 ic oa ca a ee , ‘‘Uneut Leaves” .... os <i = ae se pS od Correspondence— 4 Useful Books ... a Dis ie oe uae <n cay an I.—Was there a Contract to Publish? ... a ai men ae Notes and News aa coe ae ae isd nec a cone be II.—Magazines and Editors... oon , res met aan ae i Fenilleton—His One Story ae oe bux zoe ire dase III.—Translations aes ne ps a ote waa 2 a | The Literary Handmaid of the Church ... ae = aA sae kG IV.—The Literary and Art Agency... eos aS Se wae? | | In the Name of the Prophet—Gloves_ ... oe ae a aw ele ‘*At the Author’s Head” .,, ae oe me ote srs en 220. | Shakespeare or Bacon eee oe os oS os a -. 17 | New Books and New Editions... oe eta oe ae san OL PUBLICATIONS OF THE SOCIETY. | . The Annual Report. That for January 1892 can be had on application to the Secretary. . The Author. A Monthly Journal devoted especially to the protection and maintenance of Literary * f Property. Issued to all Members. . The Grievances of Authors. (The Leadenhall Press.) 2s. The Report of three Meetings on the general subject of Literature and its defence, held at Willis’s Rooms, March, 1887, 1 2 3 4, Literature and the Pension List. By W. Morris Coxuus, Barrister-at-Law. (Henry Glaisher, 9 6 95, Strand, W.C.) 3s. . The 2 of the Societe des Gens de Lettres. By S. Squire Sprrace, Secretary to the ociety. Is. . The Cost of Production. In this work specimens are given of the most important forms of type, size of page, &c., with estimates showing what it costs to produce the more common kinds of books. Henry Glaisher, 95, Strand, W.C. 2s. 6d. a# 7. The Various Methods of Publication. By S. Squire Spriaar. In this work, compiled from the papers in the Society’s offices, the various kinds of agreements proposed by Publishers to Authors are examined, and their meaning carefully explained, with an account of the various kinds of fraud which have been made possible by the different clauses in their agreements. Henry Glaisher, 95, Strand, W.C. 3s. 8. Copyright Law. Reform, An Exposition of Lord Monkswell’s Copyright Bill now before Parlia- ment. With Extracts from the Report of the Commission of 1878, and an Appendix containing the Berne Convention and the American Copyright Bill. By J. M. Lexy. Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1s. 6d. 2 ADVERTISEMENTS. The Society of Authors (Sncorporated). Tur Riant Hon. tHe LORD TENNYSON, D.C.L. Sir Epwin ARNOLD, K.C.LE., C.S.I. ALFRED AUSTIN. J. M. BaRRie£. A. W. A BECKETT. RosBert BATEMAN. Sir Henry Berene, K.C.M.G. WALTER BESANT. AUGUSTINE BIRRELL, M.P. R. D. BuackMoreE. Rev: Pror. Bonney, F.R.S. Lord BRABOURNE. James Bryce, M.P. Haxu Carine. P. W. CLAYDEN. EpWwaRrpD CLODD. W. Morris Couuezs. Hon. JoHN COLLIER. W. Martin Conway. F, Marion CRAWFORD. PRESIDENT. COUNCIL. OswALD CRAWFURD, C.M.G. THE Hart or DEsaRt. AusTIN DOBSON. A. W. Dupovura. J. Eric Ericusen, F.R.S8. Pror. MicHarn Foster, F.R.S8. HERBERT GARDNER, M.P. RicHARD GARNETT, LL.D. EDMUND GOSSE. H. Riper Haga@arp. THomas Harpy. JEROME K. JEROME. RupDYARD KIPLING. Pror. EH. Ray LAnKEsSTER, F.R.S. J. M. Lexy. a Rev. W. J. Lorrie, F.S.A. Pror. J. M. D. MerkLEJOoHN. GrorGE MEREDITH. Herman C. MERIVALE. Hon. Counsel—E. M. UNDERDOWN, Q.C. Rev. OC. H. Mrppieton-Wakg, F.L.S. Lewis Morzis. Pror. Max MUuuER. J.C. PARKINSON. THE EARL OF PEMBROKE AND Mont- GOMERY. Siz FREDERICK PoLiock, Bart., LL.D. WALTER HERRIES POLLOCK. A. G. Ross. GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. W. Baptiste ScoonEs. G. R. Sims. J. J. STEVENSON. Jas. SULLY. WiuiiaAm Moy THomas. H. D. Trartt, D.C.L. Baron HENRY DE Worms, E.R.S. EpmunpD YATES. M.P., Solicitors—Messrs Frmup, Roscoz, and Co., Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Secretary—C. Hurprert Turine, B.A. OFFICES. 4, PortueaL StreEtT, Lincoun’s Inn Finxtps, W.C. Now ready, Third Edition, with Additions throughout, in demy 8vo., 700 pages, price 15s. AN ANECDOTAL HISTORY OF THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT, From the Earliest Periods to the Present Time. WITH NOTICES OF EMINENT PARLIAMENTARY MEN, AND EXAMPLES OF THEIR ORATORY. CoMPILED FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES BY GHORGH HENRY JENNINGS. CONTENTS. sesamin Part I.—Rise and Progress of Parliamentary Institutions. Part TI.—Personal Anecdotes: Sir Thomas More to John Morley. Parr JII.—Miscellaneous. 1. Elections. 2. Privilege; Ex- clusion of Strangers; Publication of Debates. 3. Parliamentary Usages, &c. 4. Varieties. Apprnpix.—(A) Lists of the Parliaments of England and of the United Kingdom. (B) Speakers of the House of Commons. (C) Prime Ministers, Lord Chancellors, and Secretaries of State from 1715 to 1892. : Opinions of the Press of the Previous Edition. Ts will be in its right place either on the drawing-room table, to be taken up in the odd ten minutes before dinner, or on the library shelves, to serve as a permanently useful work of reference.’— Spectator. ‘* It would be sheer affectation to deny the fascination exercised b the ‘Anecdotal History of Darliamene! nq in our hands. It will prove useful to many and agreeable to more.”’—Saturday Review. ‘As pleasant a companion for the leisure hours of a studious and thoughtful man as anything in book shape since Selden.” — Daily Telegraph. “Contains a great deal of information about our representative institutions in past and present times which it beh know.”—Daily News. Pp oves all persons to ‘*May be read with pleasure and profit by Conservative and Liberal alike.” —Manchester Courier. ‘““A succession of anecdotes sparkling with wit, bristling with humour, or instinct with imperishable vitality of historic oratory.” Liverpool Albion. “Such a capital fund of instruction and amusement, that it is impossible to take up the book without letting one’s eye fall on some good anecdote or some remarkable speech.” — Shefield Daily Tele- graph. Also mentioned by Mr. G. A, Sala, in ‘'The Author” of May 2, as one among a dozen “really useful books.” eS" Orders may now be sent to HORACE COX, “Law Times” Office, Bream’s-buildings, E.C. Sab sc D ocean emanate apenveenneeeinteESHEN Che ufthbor, (The Organ of the Incorporated Society of Authors. Monthly.) CONDUCTED BY WALTER BESANT. Vou. III—No. 1.] JUNE 1, 1892. [PRICE SIXPENCE. Lor the Opinions expressed in papers that are signed or initialled the Authors alone are responsible. a WARNINGS. Reavers of the Author are earnestly desired to make the following warnings as widely known as possible. They are based on the experience of seven 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, until you have proved the figures. (2.) Never enter into any correspondence with publishers, especially with those who advertise for MSS., who are not recom- mended by experienced friends or by this Society. (3.) Never, on any account whatever, bind yourself down for future work to anyone. (4.) Never accept any proposal of royalty until you have ascertained 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.) Nuvur sign away American rights. Keep them. Refuse to sign an agreement containing a clause which reserves them for the publisher. If the publisher insists, take away the MS. and offer it to another. VOL, III, (8.) Never sign an agreement or a receipt which gives away copyright without advice. (9.) Keep control over the advertisements by clause in the agreement. Reservea veto. If you are yourself ignorant of the sub- ject, make the Society your agent. (10.) Never forget that publishing is a busi- ness, like any other business, totally un- connected with philanthropy, charity, or pure love of literature. You have to do with business men. Society’s Offices :— 4, Portuaat Street, Lincoun’s Inn Frexps. ree HOW TO USE THE SOCIETY. ————— 1. Send to the office copies of past agreements and past accounts with the loan of the books repre- sented. This is in order to ascertain what has been the nature of your agreements and the results to author and publisher respectively so far. The secretary will always be glad to have any agreements for inspection and note. The information thus obtainable is invaluable. 2. If the examination of the business trans- actions by the Secretary proves unfavourable, you should take advice as to a change of publishers. 3. Before signing any agreement whatever, send the proposed form to the Society for examination. 4. The Society is acquainted with the methods, and—in the case of fraudulent houses—the tricks, of every publishing firm in the country. Remember that there are certain houses which live entirely by trickery. . A Re Le er 4 THE AUTHOR. 5. The outward and visible signs of the fraudulent- publisher are—(1) a virtuous and benevolent wish to have the unquestioned conduct of your business; (2) a virtuous, good man’s pain at being told that his accounts must be audited ; (3) a virtuous indignation at being asked what his proposal gives him compared with what it gives the author; and (4) irrepressible irritation at any mention of the Society of Authors. 6. Remember always that in belonging to the Society you are fighting the battles of other writers, even if you are reaping no benefit to yourself, and that you are advancing the best interests of literature in promoting the inde- pendence of the writer. 7. Send to the Editor of the Author notes of anything important to literature that you may hear or meet with. Oe THE AUTHORS’ SYNDICATE. R. Colles desires to inform readers of the Author— i 1. That the Authors’ Syndicate is now in .a position to take charge in whole or in part of the business of members of the Society. With, when necessary, the assistance of the advisers of the Society it will conclude agreements, collect royalties, examine and pass accounts, and, generally, relieve mem- bers of the trouble of managing business details. All accounts opened between the Syndicate and members are duly audited. 2. That the establishment expenses of the Authors’ Syndicate are defrayed entirely out of the commission charged on rights placed through its intervention. This varies, and must vary, according to the nature of the services rendered, but it is intended to reduce the rates to the lowest possible amount compatible with efficiency. Meanwhile members will please accept this intimation that they are not entitled to the services of the Syndicate gratis. 3. That he undertakes to work for none but members of the Society. 4. That his business is not to advise members of the Society, but to manage their affairs ae Me if they please to entrust them o him. 5. That when he has any work in hand he must have it entirely in his own hands; in other words, that authors must not ask him to place certain work, and then go about endeavouring to .place it by themselves. 6. That when a MSS. has been sent from pub- lisher to publisher, and from editor to editor, in vain, it is most likely impossible to place it. 7. That in the face of the present competition, authors will do well to moderate their expectations. To this it may be added, that where advice is sought, the Secretary of the Society, and not the Syndicate, must be consulted. On his behalf members are requested— 1. To place on paper briefly the points on which advice is asked. 2. To send up all the letters and papers con- nected with the case, if it is a case of dispute. 3. Not to conceal or keep back any of the facts. ee NOTICES. LL 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 with- out 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 cireum- stances, undertake the publication of MSS. The following encouraging advertisement ap- peared the other day in a London morning paper: —“ Smart, scholarly, versatile Writer. Expert verbatim and picturesque descriptive reporter. Experienced managing editor, daily, weekly. High personal character. University man. 30s. per week.” The Authors’ Club is now opened in temporary premises, at 17, St. James’s Place, St. James’s Street. Address the Secretary for information, rules, admission, &c. Ses ese eee — | { i wil) | tl | THE AUTHOR. 5 Will members take the trouble to ascertain whether they have paid their subscriptions for the year? If they will do this, and remit the amount or a banker’s order, it will greatly assist the Secretary, and save him the trouble of sending out a reminder. So Members are invited to forward anything that may be of interest or value to literature, whether news, comments, questions, or original contribu- tions. The short space at the command of the editor forbids any attempt at reviewing, but books can always be noticed if they are sent up. SS Members are most earnestly entreated to attend to the warning numbered (3). It is a most foolish and a most disastrous thing to bind yourself to anyone for a term of years. Let them ask them- selves if they would give a solicitor the collection of their rents for five years to come, whatever his conduct, whether he was honest or dishonest ? Of course they would not. Why then hesitate for a moment when they are asked to sign them- selves into bondage for three or five years ? Here is another illustration of the reckless way in which accusations are flung abroad. We are in- formed that a writerinacertain Scotch paper, about two months ago, stated that “a curious debate has been raging in.a small section of the literary world as to the right of every author to have his works reviewed by the press.” That is the first statement. Where has that claim been advanced ? Noone knows. The next statement is, that it origi- natedin the Author. Such aclaim has never been advocated by the Author. One writer did, so far back as last August, propose the abolition of “ press copies,” but he was on the spot challenged by the editor, who pointed out, in a few words, the mani- fest objections to his proposals. Then follows a quarter of a column devoted to cheap sarcasm and indignation against the folly of such a claim. Once advance a preposterous falsehood, and, until it is contradicted, nothing is easier than to fly into a rage over it. Will not editors, who have no interest at all in the propagation of literary slanders, step in to protect the truth? Andis it not the case that the law of libel includes all those statements which are made wilfully, with the intention of damaging the reputation of an insti- tution or a person? “T hear it alleged against our Society,” writes a correspondent, “ that it is doing great harm in encouraging incompetent writers to persevere, and im increasing the output of bad and mediocre literature. What reply am I to make ?” The first reply that occurs is a flat denial—the Lie Absolute. But it is as well to give the reasons. It may be advanced (1) that the Society has always advised, and warned, and exhorted young writers never, on any considera- tion whatever, to pay money on account of or towards the costs of production. Now it is only by the authors consenting to pay for them that bad books can be produced. Publishers, cer- tainly, are not so foolish as to run the risk—the certain loss—of producing them; (2) next, that the Society has a department which reads and advises on MSS., and stops the publication of a great deal of rubbish; and (3) that in letters to those who seek our help—as well as in its pub- lished papers—the Society is always doing its best to dissuade the unprepared and the incom- petent. But of lies about the work of the Society there is no end, and will be none until one falsehood after another has become patent and proverbial. Those of our readers who find any lies about us, new or old, advanced in any paper, might do good service by sending them up to the Secretary, with the name and date of the paper. “ AUTHOR, 30, fair, tall, wishes to Meet Lady, who could capitalise production of his plays. View Matrimony.— Address, The above cutting, from a provincial paper, may be of interest to our readers: Literary aspirants have tried many paths to fame, but this looks like a new departure. How, we are asked almost every day, is the young writer to make a beginning? He should first get an opinion from one of the Society’s readers as to the merits and chances of his book. It may be that certain points would be suggested for alteration. It may be that he finds himself recommended to put his MS. in the fire. He should then, if encouraged, offer his MS. to a list of houses or of magazines recommended by the Society. There is nothing else to be done. No one, we repeat; can possibly help him. If those houses all refuse him, it is not the least use trying others, and, if he is a wise man, he will refuse to pay for the production of his own work. If, however, as too often happens, he is not a wise man, but believes that he has written a great thing, and is prepared to back his opinion to the extent of paying for his book, then let him place his work in the hands ere ST eee a a 6 THE of the Society, and it shall be arranged for him without greater loss than the actual cost of pro- duction. At least he will not be deluded by false hopes and promises which can end in nothing. — 1 The following advertisement is cut from a daily paper :— “An Author can OFFER either sex constant (spare time) Home EMPLOYMENT: remunerative author’s work and instructions, twelve stamps.— Letters at once to Author.” A correspondent answered it, and obtained the information required. The method offers up an endless prospect of fortune. The “ Author’ has written a book—hence his name and title. The constant and remunerative employment consists in selling copies of that book. Anybody can apply to be made an agent. In case of appoint- ment he inserts an advertisement in the local paper, and invites applicants to sell the book for him. He pays the Author 3s. 45d. a dozen, and gets 8d. a piece for them—profit 4s. 73d. a dozen, out of which he pays, one supposes, for his advertisement. One can but give publicity to this magnificent opening. Several correspondents have asked whether Mr. P. F. Collier, who has already been mentioned in connexion with an advertisement offering to give English authors an immense circulation, is a person to be trusted. There seems little doubt that he can do what he promises, which is to runa novel through his journal. What more he will do is quite uncertain. We therefore repeat the warning given in our last number. Let authors be careful to secure the usual business arrange- ment in an agreement before sending their work across the Atlantic. mee INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT. i UNSATISFACTORY WoRKING OF THE Law IN FRANCE. : (The New York Tribune.) ARIS, March 5.—A year’s experience of the American International Copyright law’ has proved rather disappointing to French authors and publishers. Armand Templier, of Hachette and Co. ; Georges Charpentier, Eugéne Plon and Paul Delalain, four of the leading pub- lishers of Paris, say the law has not produced the good effects expected. Paul Calmann-Levy, AUTHOR. another well-known publisher, said :—‘The law is of too recent date for French authors and publishers to be able thoroughly to appreciate its advantages or discover its defects. We are not yet sufficiently familiar with the details of its application to judge it by experience or to obtain from it all the good it may have in store for us. In the meantime we can only look forward to its yielding advantageous results in the future and express our satisfaction that literary property was at last recognised in the United States.” Felix Aloan, publisher of scientific works, said : “Up to the present the law has not produced any practical results, so far as I am concerned ; but the measure has been in operation too short a time for me to say what may be expected from it.” Count de Kératry’s part in bringing about the passage of the law is well remembered in. America. He is now here, and was asked his views on the subject. The Count said: ‘The ‘manufacture clause’ in the law prevents my country from getting any benefit from it. It is perfectly natural that the United States should want to protect home printing interests against English publishers; but in France, the language being different, our publishers can do nothing to hurt American printers. This ‘manufacture clause’ has raised up a Chinese wall which pre- vents literary and artistic intercourse between France and the United States. To secure to Americans the printing of perhaps thirty books per annum, it kills copyright on innumerable works. Only two French writers have sold American copyrights under the ngw law, and one of themis M. Zola. But he has had such difficulty in getting the manuscript finished in time for the American edition to be copyrighted before publi- cation began here that he declares he will never again undertake to do the same thing at any price. So far as French novels are concerned, the new law has done nothing more nor less than to legalise literary piracy. And this is true also of plays. I have written to the American friends of International Copyright begging them to have this ‘manufacture clause ’ modified.” II. More Prracy. . John Strange Winter writes:—<Apropos to your comments inthe Author for May on piracy by the New York Sunday News, you may like to knowthat this precious publication recently issued the whole of my story “ That Imp” (published here in 1887 as a shilling book) as a complete supplement and under a different title. As I own the copyright of THE the story I wrote to the editor asking him whether the story had been offered to him, and informing him that, whatever remuneration was credited to the story should be sent to me. I have had no reply ! ERT, Literary THEFT. In relation to literary theft the editor of the Nineteenth Century has published, in a recent number of his magazine, an emphatic condem- nation of the “monstrous extent to which an organised system of plunder is carried in certain quarters.” ‘ Under pretence,” writes he, “ of criticism, and the transparent guise of sample extracts, the whole value of articles and essays which may and frequently have cost a review hundreds of pounds—is offered to the public for a penny or even a halfpenny,” and he adds that ‘a determination has been arrived at to make an example of such pilferers. The cases are nume- rous in which the defence of literary piracy on the ground of “comment, criticism, or illustration” has been unsuccessfully raised. Perhaps the best example is Campbell v. Scott (11 Simon, 31). In that case (as cited in “Scrutton on Copyright,’ 2nd edit. p. 123) the de- fendant had published a volume of 790 pages, thirty-four of which pages were taken up with a critical essay on English poetry, while the remaining 738 were filled with complete pieces and extracts as illustrative specimens. Six poems and extracts, amounting to only 733 lines in all, were taken from copyright works of the plaintiff, who obtained an injunction against the continued publication, on the ground that no sufficient critical labour or original work on the defendant’s part was shown to justify his selection. Not a few of these thieves think that an acknowledgment of the source from which they steal will excuse them. This view is quite unsound, as was shown by Scott v. Stanford (36 L. J. Rep. Chance. 729). There the plaintiff had published certain statistical returns of London imports of coal, and the defendant, “with a full acknowledgment of his indebted- ness” to the plaintiff, published these returns as part of a work on the mineral statistics of the United Kingdom, the extracted matter forming a third of the defendant’s work. ‘The court,’ said Vice-Chancellor Page Wood, “can only look at the result, and not at the intention,” and he granted an injunction without hesitation. Simi- larly the verbatim extracts from law reports in Sweet v. Benning (16 C. B. 459), which Chief Justice Jervis described as a “mere mechanical stringing together of marginal or side-notes AUTHOR. ri ‘which the labour of the author had fashioned ready to the compiler’s hands,” were declared by the Court of Common Pleas to be piratical, and it 1s impossible to glance at the cases without seeing that, if examples are really about to be made, the pilferers will have a hard time of it,— Law Journal. recs ON ROYALTIES. HE agreements of the future will undoubtedly be based upon a system of Royalties. The old method of half profits—a very fair method.in the case of books whose circulation is limited—has fallen hopelessly into discredit by reason of the shameless frauds which have been practised under its cover. The old pretence that a successful book must be made to pay for an unsuccessful book is now no longer advanced. There remains the one reasonable plan that the author and publisher divide the proceeds of each book on some recognised scale. If it be the half profit plan as of old, the publisher must be honest. That is to say, he must not cheat—the explana- tion is elementary but necessary: he must not set down £120 as the cost when £100 was the sum actually spent ; he must set down the exact sum realised, without deductions, and he must not charge advertisements for which he has not paid. All this, again, seems elementary, yet there remains the necessity for saying all this over and over again. But a royalty plan removes the temptation to be dishonest—in these ways at least. All that is wanted is the audit of the accounts as to two points—the number printed and the number sold. A table of royalties was given in the Author (June, 1891, Vol. I., No.2). This is repeated here, on account of its great importance. The book taken was an ordinary six-shilling volume, running from 70,000 to 100,000 words: We deduct from the amount realised—(1) what the publisher pays for production, with adver- tising; (2) what he pays the author. The percentage is taken on the full published price. I.— On THE SALE OF THE FIRST 1000. Per Cent. 5 10 15 20 25 £ £ £ £ £ (eoblusher 3: 4. ul GO 45 30 15 _— Author a ee es 30 45 60 75 - IJ.—On Sane or THE Next 3000. Per Cent. | | 5 | 10 15 | 20 | 25 | 30 | 35 | giasleiaie\a 2 Publisher ..| 330 285 240, 195|150|105| 60 | | | 45| 90 130 180} 225 | 270) 315 | Author ... TII.—On tHe Sane or An EDITION OF 10,000. Per Cent. | 15 | 20 | 25 30 | 35 fi 4 | 21212) 2 | Publisher... ...| 1200 | 1050 | 900 — 450} 300 Pe Author ... ...| 150] 300 |450 ape 752) 1050 These figures ought to be a guide to the author in a royalty agreement. If his book be one which will not sell largely, as, e.g., a volume of critical essays, or a treatise on some subject which appeals to a limited circle he may consider the first table only. If it is a book likely to have a large sale, let him consider all three tables. ON DEFERRED ROYALTIES. T is frequently urged that a book carries with it a certain risk. We repeat, over and over again, that the publishers who take risks are very, very few, and that the occasions on which risk is taken are very, very few. However, let it be granted that a certain book does carry risk—in other words, that the publisher is not certain of clearing the cost of production. As before, the book shall be a six shillmg volume. Here is a little table—the figures being approximate, but as regards cost, over, rather than under the mark. Cost of production of the Ist edition of 1000 copies—say £100, an exaggerated estimate, including advertising. Trade price of the book—say 3s. 6d. Number of books required to clear expenses, 572. Every copy that remains up to 950 copies (allowing 50 for press copies) represents a clear THE AUTHOR. profit of 3s. 6d. The question is, how much of that should go to the publisher. If we give him half, the royalty after 572 c»xpies shou!d be Is, gd. a copy or 29 per cent. Tf, however, a larger sale is expected, and a larger number s‘1uck off, the figures will require alteration. Suppose an edition of 3000 copies. In this case the number required to pay the original cost will be about 850. Then every copy realises a clear profit of 3s. 6d. What should the publisher take for his services in distribution, collection, and management? Surely a royalty of © 1s. 6d. would fairly meet the justice of the case. ‘he author for such a deferred royalty should claim 2s. a copy, or a royalty of 33 per cent. Another plan which is usefully and profitably employed by some publishers, is to offer a sum of money down and a royalty to begin when so many copies have been sold. For instance, a six-shilling book of which the publisher knows that he is certain to sell 1000, and will probably sell 3000. He offers £50 down and a royalty to commence — when? It is very simple. The author’s £50 must be added to the cost of pro- duction. If the publisher is to have a third of the profits he may add on £25 to the cost of production for himself. Then the sum is quite simple. Fora sale of 3000 copies about 850 must be first sold in order to defray the cost of produc- tion. To this must be added 430 more for the advance made to the author, and the publisher's share. After about 1280 copies the royalty should begin. Here is a very pleasing illustration of how the latter method may be worked. An author of great distinction had ready a book of great interest— a book which from the nature of the subject as well as the name and position of the author, was sure to do well. It was published at 4s. 6d. The pubhsher, in a friendly careless way, proposed to advance the author £50, and to give him a royalty—the amount does not here concern us— after 4500 copies had been sold. That figure was reached and passed. Suppose the sale had stopped there, how would the account have stood ? Roughly as follows: The publsher must have netted £300 to the author's £50. And this, of course, he knew very well at the outset. If not, he did not know his own business. If these figures are wrong, let us have the right figures— audited, of course. Sires Nh aceon a a | THE TWO CASES OF CONVEYING. Ss i A student’s text-book was sent to me to review for a certain journal. From its title-page, it was a new edition of an established work by a pro- fessor of the subject, whose name was retained. In the preface, the editor (an unknown name to me) explained that he had attempted to introduce, in a short compass, the chief results of and research within recent years, that he had used considerable pains to sift out what was valuable from recent original foreign memoirs, and that he was indebted more especially to four works of reference, whose statements, so far as he had taken them, he had, in nearly all cases, verified by consulting the original researches. He was also delightfully sarcastic about the short life of many a piece of lore and many a piece of theory ; he had not encumbered his pages with such perishable matter. _ On examining the book, I found that not a line of the former editions remained, that it was an entirely new book, and that it was exceedingly well done—excellent in structure, full in matter, perspicuous in style. The mere paragraphing showed the hand of a master, and the subordination of parts through some 600 pages showed that grasp which only a long familiarity with details can give. A page or two at the beginning of one of the chapters reminded me of something that I had read before ; and on finding the same passage in another book, I got upon the scent. Page by page I identified the new edition of the English text-book with a new edition of a French student’s manual, which was one of the four “works of reference” mentioned in the preface. At long intervals there came a paragraph, or perhaps a whole page, which I traced to one of the three other “‘ works of reference ;” but these interpo- lations were probably not a tenth part of the whole; there were also a few little touches which I could not account for except on the hypothesis that they were the editor’s own. I wrote my review, and pointed out the facts as above given, adding a few abstract reflections on the ethics of compilation. However, the editor of the journal, for reasons best known to himself, did not print my contribution, for all the trouble I had taken over it. Shortly after, I was in the company of two persons, both of whom were learned in the subject-matter of the said text-book. I told them my story, which they seemed to hear without surprise. One of them said, with the obvious concurrence of the other, “Then you do not know that X.,” meaning a professor of the same subject, “had already VOL. III, AUTHOR. 9 pillaged the Frenchman in exactly the same way, in his manual published a year or two ago?” ‘I had not heard that, and did not relish hearing it then, for I knew X., and knew him for a man of religion and of high respectability. I have never inquired whether the open secret about his manual was the truth, and, if so, whether there were any extenuating circumstances. But, assuming that the information given me was true, it placed my own discovery in a new light, and probably explained why my review had not been published. The editor of the journal had said to himself, “Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas,” and had refused to do the latter. The author of my manual had said to himself, “Render unto Scissors the things that are Scissors’,” and again, “They that take the scissors shall perish by the scissors.’’ Also my man had been merely re- editing an old book, and had placed the original author’s name in the leading line of the title-page (although he bragged a good. deal in his own name in the preface), The points of casuistry are curious. I have been told of a parallel case, which, however, is not strictly parallel: the case, namely, of a novelist. who conveys from a French translation the plot, dia- logue, and imaginative trimmings (mutatis mutandis) of a work of fiction which had origi- nally appeared in one of the more inaccessible literatures of Eastern Europe. eT, Happening to have before me two elaborate works on the same subject, one by a German of known erudition in the earlier part of the century, the other by a prolific English book-maker of our own time, I noticed something the same in both ; and, after a minute examination of the one and the other, I discovered as follows: The German’s work, which was written in the French language, was in two almost equal parts, the one consisting of his more philosophical generalities, in the form of rather stiff prolegomena (by no means suited to the English intellect), the other of an immense body of facts, on which his generalities rested, methodically arranged, and authenticated by a truly marvellous bibliography. The English work, to the extent of its entire design, and perhaps three-fourths of its matter, consisted of the German professor’s encyclopedic facts, with the foot notes, and corresponded exactly to their limits of time and place. The German author was just acknowledged, among others, in an unimportant but astute line of the English preface ; and in three or four places of the text the poor old man was cited, among his own innumerable authorities, in order to be contro- verted on some point of doctrine. The English B 10 THE AUTHOR. book was reviewed in three columns of the Times as a work of original merit, reflecting credit upon native erudition and research. Since then the learned author (translator and editor of the easier half) has been decorated by his Sovereign, and invested with a scarlet academical gown. The old German, who was a sort of ultimus Romanorum in his special erudition, and a professor at one of these small universities with vast libraries, out- lived his own generation, and was little known at the time of his death. I doubt whether a dozen readers of the English book would know his name if they heard it. I inclose the names of parties and the titles of books. A. B. Sect A LITERARY BUREAU. PROSPECTUS lies before us of a literary bureau conducted on bold and vigorous principles. We think of our own puny and fainthearted efforts with shame when we read this noble handling of the literary aspirant. Why, we give our young man or young maiden who sends us a MS. for advice, a long opinion in detail, advice as to further proceedings, a list of respectable periodicals, and a list of publishers who can be trusted—or else we warn him or her that the MS. is worthless, and send it back with wholesome advice, either to retire from the field at once or to put in very different work. We do all this for a pitiful, sneaking guinea, of which the Society gets nothing and has to pay the postage of the MS. See, now, what the Cambridge Literary Bureau, “ P.O. Box 3266, Boston, Mass. U.S.A.” proffers. (Perhaps our younger friends will, in their own interests, make a note of the address). 1. It reads MSS. and gives a list of paying periodicals for 1s. every thousand words. 2. It gives a letter of detailed advice for 4s. 3. It revises and corrects MSS. at 4s. per hour. 4. It corrects proofs at 3s. per hour. 5. It type writes at 2s 6d. a thousand words. 6. It writes shorthand at dictation for 3s. an hour. 7. It teaches rhetoric, composition, and proof reading in twenty lessons for £7 Ios. 8. It gives a list of books bearing on literary work for tos. g. It reads a MS., gives a, letter of criticism and advice, and sends a list of publishers for a fee varying with the length of the work from £2 to £4. Lastly, it places MSS. on commission of 10 to 20 per cent. Let us see how it works, Juvenis has written a book. He goes to the Cambridge Literary Bureau. It is a book of 80,000 words. First, of course, he would like to have it read. fs. a. 1. For reading and sending a list of paying periodicals... ... ... ... 4 0 0 2. Next, he would like a letter of opinion on the work ... ... ... O10 O 3. The opinions say it ought to be corrected. Fee for 48 hours’ work at 4s. an hour... 9: 712-0 4. Of course we must have it type written, at 2s. 6d. for 1000 words 10 O O . He will take the course of lessons 7 10 0 . It will be useful to have the text of books bearing on literary work 0 10 0 7. It is absolutely necessary to have a list of publishers with another letter of criticism... 5. 3 OO nuvi a4 2 8 The literary candidate, therefore, under the kindly auspices of this bureau begins with an expenditure of £34 2s. He then finds out that he is in exactly the same position as he was at the beginning, except for the letter of advice. Now, what happens to Juvenis when he writes to us. & 8 a. 1. For reading the MS. and writing an opinion . ae ak ee 2. For sending a list of respectable periodicals... 0.6 6 3. Correction of MSS. not attempted. The opinion will show him where and how it should be corrected ... 0 0 O 4. Typewriting. This should always be done at 1s. 3d. a 1000 words, but not by the Society of Authors 0 0 0 5. Course of lessons in rhetoric. Quite useless. If a -young man cannot read for himself a book on rhetoric, and if he has not learned some- thing of the art of composition he had better not attempt literature. O O Oo 6. What good will such a list do for anybody? But the society will give him sucha list if he wants one 0 O O 7. An opinion from a writer of experi- ence and judgment (see above) ... 9 90 O 8. A list of publishers in whom some confidence may be placed ... .. 9 O O Total: 6...) 0 EE And at the end our man is in exactly the same position as the American candidate who has dis- bursed £34 2s. And yet we expect to get ou! THE A CO-OPERATIVE FIRM. — — HITHER bends the course of the stream ? Does the prospectus before us show the future? It is a prospectus, apparently quite serious, of a proposed publishing house for a special class of book. <A fairly large capital is announced, and the scheme is called co-operative. Since, however, it is further added that a dividend of from ro to 15 per cent. may be anticipated, it is not clear what the promoters mean by co-opera- tion. The prospectus provides that the ledgers shall be so kept as to enable any customer to see at a moment what expense has been incurred and what sales have been effected. And it promisesa great reduction in the way of advertising. It - looks, therefore, as if a new commission house is in contemplation to be run honestly. There should be room for such a house in special, as there certainly is in general literature. We shall watch the progress of the enterprise, But we must remark that co-operation should not contemplate large dividends. In true co-opera- tion, the capital employed receives a fair dividend, something over the interest in consols, and the co-operators share the rest. In such a project as the one before us care must be taken not to fall into the hands of a printer at the outset, or the whole scheme may be ruined by over-charges. > 0 —<—— “UNCUT LEAVES.” HIS scheme, the programme of which was published in the last number of the Author, has been seriously taken up in America, and centres have been established in many towns. That is to say, there are a great many periodical gatherings of people—monthly or fortni ghtly—to hear beforehand, articles about to appear in various magazines. It appears that the thing has grown out of a friendly association of American authors for the purpose of reading their work to each other. writes “ Editors have met me more than halfway ; in no case have they refused to let me have their MSS. Some of the articles are read just before they come out, and others may not be printed for some time. That is immaterial. I find a mass of able, short essays, stories, poems, and fugitive verses, which make variety and keep up the interest. It is noticeable that here in New York, with all the many things going on, the men turn out and stay through the evening.” Mr. Lincoln is coming to London this month; we The director, Mr. L. J. B. Lincoln,. AUTHOR. II shall probably’ learn more of his scheme. The following shows how it is regarded by the American press : The faddest of fads is about to break out in Chicago. Westerners have heard rumours of the exclusive method by which Boston and New York culture regaled itself during the past year, that of having an unpublished magazine called Uncut Leaves read in private houses to a carefully chosen audience. No report of the contents was permitted to be carried out of the “academy” by the favoured ‘lis- teners, and no mention thereof allowed to get into print. In each of tho cities where the astute editor, Mr. Lincoln, master of the Deerfield School of History and Romance, has introduced his novelty, contributors to Uncut Leaves have added immensely to its interest by reading their own articles, the audience thus having the added enjoyment of authors’ interpretations of their own works. The contri- butors to past numbers of Uncut Leaves have included the cream of living American literature, Richard Henry Stoddard, Edmund Clarence Stedman, George W. Cable, Sarah Orne Jewett, Margaret Deland, and more. At first this scheme of Uncut Leaves seems a mere fad, an affectation without substantial warrant to recommend it to really cultivated people. If an article be good enough for fifty favoured persons is it not better and finer that it should be made readily accessible to a hundred times fifty P Is not an author’s sincere desire to reach the largest number of readers, to be known to the greatest proportion of his fellow men? This is undeniable. But it is equally instinctive in an author to wish to be judged first by the “fit, if few.” Many an article, good on the whole, is marred by unconscious defects in execution that only reading aloud discloses. The experiment of the private audience is, therefore, of great value in fixing estimates and suggesting improvements. No wounds in literature are deeper than those so recklessly inflicted by reviewers who, often driven with excess of work, pronounce judgments honest according to light and time, but precipitated without due consideration and as fatal on the fortune and fame of what may have cost months, a year, or years of study and work, as if every line of the criticism had been weighed and scrutinised for only truth and discrimination. Uncut Leaves gives an author trial, if not before his peers, at least in the presence of those who are bound in honour not to detract, if incompetent to judge or unfitted by nature or lack of education to write. Mr. Lincoln has, therefore, devised a method of getting disinterested judgment in advance of publication on what doubtless will prove to be in time essentially important additions to American literature. For, although the con- tents of the unpublished magazine are at their author’s pleasure, ultimately they become public, and the public as well as the author will benefit by the judicial test to which in private and before a considerable number of presumably qualified jurors, they were subjected. After all, the fad has justification. Mr. Lincoln is well known in the East among scholars and to a large number of Chicago people, some of whom have attended his Deerfield School of History and Romance, and others who have heard his lectures in New York or Boston. He is a man of wide knowledge and authentic taste. He is now in Chicago and indications point to a success as great as that which has characterised his work in the East. His readings of Uncut Leaves will be exclusively, of course, in private drawing-rooms. It is understood that he will give here no article that has been printed anywhere or is likely to see print for some time. Some of the most noted of his contributors are also expected during his stay. Sect B 2 12 THE AUTHOR. USEFUL BOOKS. N American correspondent sends the follow- ing list :— 1. Murray’s New English Dictionary. . SrormontH’s Dictionary of the Language. . Watxer’s Rhyming Dictionary. Barruert’s Dictionary of Americanisms. Cusuina’s Initials and Pseudonyms. WueEeEwer’s Dictionary of the Noted Names in Fiction. 7. Wricut’s Dictionary of Obsolete and Pro- vincial English. 8. Barruerr’s Familiar Quotations. g. Rogzt’s Thesaurus. 10. Breztow’s Handbook of Punctuation. 11. Wurte’s Words and their Uses. 12. Sxeat’s English Htymology. 13. Gummrrx’s Handbook of Poetry. 14. Assort’s How to Write Clearly. 15. Hix's Principles of Rhetoric. 16. Greenine’s Elements of Rhetoric. 17. Eartx’s Philology of the English Tongue. 18. Merxizsoun’s English Language. English vs aey recy NOTES AND NEWS. HE Annual Dinner should have taken place before this reaches our readers. We hope to give a good account of it in our next. The Author’s Club is now in full working order in its temporary premises, 17, St. James’s Place, St. James’s Street. Intendirg members should forward their names immediately to the secretary. The full subscription for the year is not called up. Here is a case which has recently happened. A novelist has spent some months in working a story based upon an idea which is strong, effec- tive, and, as he fondly believed, perfectly new. That a man should believe any story to be perfectly new shows a certain credulity. He has now finished his novel and has made ex- cellent arrangements about its appearance. But he has learned, to his dismay, that the perfectly new and strong idea has already—and not so very long ago—been used by another writer. What is he to do? Shall he lose his labour? Is the accident that the same idea has occurred to this other writer to stand in the way? ce nd The answer to these questions seems clear. He did not steal the idea: this can be proved by the time of his beginning and planning the story. Nobody can accuse him of plagiarism. Then what matters? Every writer has his own style, his own method of treatment ; the two stories will be fitted with different characters, different plots. Let this novelist proceed with his story. Let him, however, if he thinks well, write a preface stating the facts, otherwise some critic will find out the resemblance, and will, naturally, —for such a find happens seldom—crow over him, jump upon him, and despitefully entreat him. I do not believe that such an accident will injure either novel a bit. Se ————_ For instance, about five years ago I wrote a story turning on the Monmouth Rebellion, which first appeared in the Illustrated London News. At the sanie time Mr. Conan Doyle was also writing a novel on the same event. Both these novels appeared at the same time. Nobody ever accused me of stealing my plot from Mr. Conan Doyle. Certainly, my novel was not injured by his, and most certainly his was not injured by mine. “I have read your account of the Monmouth Rebellion,” said a man to me, “and now I am going to see what the other chap has got to say about it.” That the same event should be treated by two different hands begets curiosity. There are, however, certain things which must be avoided. For instance, some twelve years ago, in writing astory called the “ Chaplain of the Fleet,” it was resolved to devote two or three chapters to Tunbridge Wells. It seems incredible that one should have forgotten the Virginians. But I went to Tunbridge Wells, stayed there some days, and read all the books about the place, hunted up contemporary essays where the place was mentioned, and, in fact, made myself master of the subject. When the chapters were all written one remembered that Thackeray had made the place his own, so that all the work went for nothing, except to show how carefully and thoroughly Thackeray had got up the subject. We must not try to do, over again, what has been already done by a master. But it would certainly not deter me from publishing a story of my own if I learned that another novelist had just produced a story with the same—or a closely similar—plot. Just so, in the Royal Academy, we have the Vicar of Wakefield in one room, the Vicar of Wakefield in the second room, the Vicar of Wakefield in the third room, and so on. Always by the most remarkable coincidence in the world all the different artists hit upon the same idea. i 4 a THE AUTHOR. 13 In the March number of the Forwn (London: E. Arnold) was a paper with my signature on the work of our Society. It contained very little that will be found new by those who have fol- lowed our work, but it is hoped that the paper has, before this, fallen into the hands of many who have not. I found, in conversation with a publisher, that he took exception to one passage in the article. It is this, “ the first ’— way of cheating under a certain head—“is to charge for inserting the book in the publisher’s own catalogues and lists, which cost him nothing.” ‘ My lists,” said the publisher, “ cost mea great deal.’ Quite so. But the insertion of any book in the list costs nothing, or a few pence. He has no right to charge for this in- sertion as an advertisement, because a list isa part of his machinery. He does not charge for his rent, his furniture, his clerks. These are part of his services: they do that part of his work which he cannot do with his own hands. A solicitor does not charge for his clerks, nor does an engineer charge for his draughtsmen; they are part of the machinery. It is high time that this should be made quite clear. SS In Mr. Lecky’s observations, made at the dinner of the Royal Literary Fund (quoted p. 24), there appears to be a certain confusion of ideas, owing partly to the power of an epigram, partly to the prevailing ignorance in which the material interests of literature have been so long wrapped up. The epigram was that “the books which live are not the books by which authors live.” Well, but what does that mean? Shakespeare and all the Elizabethan dramatists lived by their books; Dryden, Pope, Addison, Prior, Steele, lived by their books. Johnson and Goldsmith lived by their books; Southey, Leigh Hunt, Wordsworth, lived by their books; Macaulay made a fortune by his books; Carlyle, Dickens, Thackeray, George Eliot, have lived by their books. We need not mention other novelists who live by their books, because perhaps ordinary stories are not the books which will live; but surely the epigram has very little foundation. Again, at all these dinners there is a suggestion of the great genius in distress because the public will not buy his books. Well, that is nonsense, because the reading public is wise enough and clever enough to discern the great genius and even the little genius as soon as ever he appears. For instance, Messrs. Stevenson, Rudyard Kipling, and J. M. Barrie—among others—have not had long to wait, and have never, so far as we know, been in any danger of starvation. In the same way, Browning always had a following. George Meredith has always had a following, though with both these great writers, at first a small following only. I do not believe that at this moment there is any single man of letters, in any branch, who isa neglected and a starving genius. I have sat on the Board of the Royal Literary Fund—for two years I was on the council. Without breach of con- fidence, I may state that during that term, though there were applications from many unfortunate men and women of letters, there were none from anyone of literary position. All were the second and third-rate writers. Most, indeed, were greatly to be pitied, and the Fund proved a most beneficial institution to them; but of not one could it be said that he or she was a genius in distress. eee The “higher form” of literature, Mr. Lecky said, should not be attempted by a young man unless he possesses an income—or makes an income—outside that work. As a rule nobody proposes at the outset to live by literature of any form. What are the “ higher forms” and what are the lower? I can see no “ higher form” of literature at all unless it be poetry. That seems to me the very highest form of literature. But for the rest—history, philosophy, essays, bio- graphy, fiction, the drama, criticism—which of these forms is higher than the other? None, so far as I can discover. At the outset the future author is always something else. Very often most often—he is a journalist; or he has been trained for some profession; he is a secretary ; he is a clerk in the city. If he is going to be a writer of “solid” literature, he is a professor or lecturer, a Fellow of his college, a teacher of some kind. The writer who begins by saying “I will live by making books” is the writer who ends by making periodical appeals to the Royal Literary Fund. And of all forms of literary failure this is the most pitiful and the most hopeless. Here is a suggestive note. In the New York Critic there are ‘‘ Magazine Notes” every month, i.e., notes on the papers -which appear in the various magazines of the month. But they are all American magazines. In the “ Magazine Notes” of our own papers the English magazines are considered—and the American as well. In other words the American magazines have got a firm hold on the English public. What hold have our magazines on the American public? 14 THE AUTHOR. The book of the month is ‘Nada the Lily.” Mr. Rider Haggard has never, in my opinion, done anything so good. Here we live among the savages—we talk-with them, fight with them, think withthem. That we live in an atmosphere of barbaric cruelty, lust of blood, murder, sus- picion, and treachery, is a part of living among savages at all, To judge from some of the reviews of the book, the author ought to have presented his savages in kid gloves drinking afternoon tea; or, as our noble savage has too often appeared, as a nineteenth century gentle- man of dark skin, with no clothes, and imperfectly armed with a tomahawk or a hatchet, but of irreproachable personal habits and great bravery. We must take the nineteenth century civilisation out of the noble savage altogether; we must live with him as he is, not as the romantic schoolgirl would like to have him; we then get Nada the Lily. One would not recommend it to the romantic schoolgirl—though there is nothing to raise the blush on that fair young cheek. For men the book is virile, and true, and pitiless. As for the fighting, it is Homeric. G. W.S. in the Zribune calls attention to what he thinks is a growing coldness on the part of this country to the people of the States. Among other causes he mentions one that will surprise many of us. He thinks that we are jealous of the growing literary superiority of Americans. This, he thinks, makes us feel small. We are mortified because we have no one worthy to stand up beside Howell, James, and others. He is quite wrong. American authors may be far ahead of us, but, such is our insular conceit, our wooden-headed conceit, our besotted blind- ness, that we have not yet begun to think of American writers as superior to our own. Howell? James? Very good men, both. But what of Blackmore, Black, Hardy, Barrie, Steven- son, Rudyard Kipling, Rider Haggard, Hall Caine, Mrs. Oliphant? What of Tennyson, Swinburne, Austin Dobson, Andrew Lang, Morris, Arnold? We really are not in the least jealous. If the Americans think their team better than ours, we cannot prevent them. We will even bow to their opinion—in their company. In our own, we look round us and we smile. Insular conceit! No doubt the American opinion is right. But, right or wrong, the truth is that we are not in the least jealous of our American brethren on that ground. Watter Brsant. es FEVILLETON. | His One Srory. T came out ten years ago. The author was a young medico—general practitioner in a little country town—the Red Lamp man. He bought the practice with the last few hundreds of the thousand pounds with which he started. It was not an extensive practice because the people in that neighbourhood never had any illness and never died. It was alarge district; there were a good many people who looked to him as the only doctor accessible ; he had a dog-cart and he drove long distances to see his patients; but the income. was small and the prospect was gloomy. To drive along narrow lanes with lovely hedges on either side, ina lovely country on errands of mercy would seem anideal life. Butthe dog-cart costs money ; the horse demands oats; the man himself wants food and drink and tobacco; and the weather is not always desirable for driving in a dog-cart. However, the young man wenton; he was young; he was strong; he was as yet unmarried; while there is youth there is hope; something would happen; something sometimes does happen to some people; but rarely to the G. P. of a country town; or to the vicar of a country parish—where they find themselves, there they remain until the end. Something happened to this young man. As he drove along the lanes day after day, he became possessed of a single thought which seized him, held him, haunted him, and talked to him, so that he no longer marked the flight of the birds or the song of the skylark, or the cry of the corn- crake, or the flowers in the hedge, or the corn in the fields, or the passing of the seasons—he forgot them all in order to listen to his thought. A great thought it was; not that something might happen, but that something was actually happening, and to himself—something grand—something wonder- ful—something unexpected—and to himself, the simple, obscure Red Lamp man. : The strange part of the thing is, that this young man had never before suffered in any way from excess of imagination. He was eminently a scientific young man. Had he experienced the prickings and pullings, and shovings of the imagi- native temperament, he would probably have attributed the symptoms to gouty acidity, and treated himself accordingly. It has now, we all know, been acknowledged that a gouty tendency is closely connected with the imaginative tempera- ment. He had never essayed to write a poem, a tale, or a play. He had never thought it possible that he could write anything, except, perhaps— a thing he sometimes contemplated—a treatise on THE AUTHOR. ts some disease. And how could he do that in a country town where there was no disease? ‘On Longevity, as induced by habits of habitual in- toxication,’ was a subject which he felt he could tackle from his village experience. ‘On vice of all sorts, accompanied by immunity from disease,” he also felt himself becoming qualified to treat. But that scientific essay, which should launch his name upon the sea of fame, he felt that he was growing daily less and less qualified to under- take. Therefore, as he never expected to do imagina- tive work, he suffered this thought to take posses- sion of him without entertaining any suspicion, and by the time that it held him tightly in its grasp so that it could not be thrown off, he was perfectly pleased and contented with it. Hiverybody must acknowledge that it was a very fine, stimulating, elevating, noble thought quite the kind of thought to prevent a young G.P. in small practice from getting disheartened, He imagined, in fact, that the unexpected had happened to him. It—she—came in the shape of a woman—young—beautiful—unknown—who took lodgings at a farm-house, went nowhere but to church, knew nobody, received no visits, was apparently in easy circumstances, and _ received no letters. She was the mysterious Maiden of romance. Then she fell ill; then he was sent for; then he won her confidence ; then she told her story—oh! such a story—a story at the telling of which every sword would leap of its own accord out of the scabbard and jump about like anything, flourishing and threatening ; then he became her champion—and—and—but every story told in this brief fashion is ridiculous. This story shall not be so mutilated and destroyed. Suffice it to say that the story was full of romance; as full of romance as a story can be in these days, which are supposed by people who have no ima- gination to be unromantic. Now, after many months during which this story filled the young doctor’s brain, there came a time when he must needs write it down. Remember that he had never before thought of writing anything down. But there comes a time when, if a man has such a thought, he must write it down. He cannot choose but write it down. If he refuses, his story turns into bitterness and gall; it is worse than gouty acidity ; it is worse than suppressed gout. Suppressed novel is an obscure disease, never yet treated at all, of which all that is known is that it generally kills unless it maddens. The Doctor, therefore, wrote his story. Now the hero was himself; he put himself into the pages ; he put the whole of himself; he put the best of hinself, but he did not hide the rest of himself. Consequently, it was a magnificent character that he drew. Magnificent, says the maxim, is truth. And, though he little suspected it, he wrote a very true, powerful, and striking story. It still lives on the bookstall and still sells at the railway station; it is a book which will remain a long time ; perhaps it will not quite die for genera- tions. When the story was finished there followed a time of great flatness, because he had cleared out his brain; no more visions remained there ; no splendid thoughts were left; he had nothing to think about; he drove about the lanes as of old, listening to the birds, watching the flowers, marking the passing of the season; and he was horribly dull. Then he sent his story up to London. He chose, as happens to the modest beginner, a person of the baser sort for his publisher. This man promptly wrote back to say that his reader had reported so favourably of the work that he was able to offer the following exceptional terms: The author to pay a quarter of the cost of the production, and to get a quarter of the profits; the publisher to find the rest. ““P.S. The present offers the best chance in the whole year for the appearance of such a work.” The author’s quarter share of the cost was set down at £75. The Doctor scraped together the money. Now, though the publisher was a thief and a rogue, though the fourth part of the cost should have been £25 at the outside, though with the returns the publisher cheated right and left, he could not wriggle out of the fact that the work was really a great success, and that he must send some money to his client. Besides, it was politic. In the first year, the doctor made £150 by his work, and saw his way, as he thought, to a steady little income. So far, good. Unfortunately an old friend wrote to him; pointed out that he was in the worst possible hands; that the man who had written so good a book could write another; that he had a name already; and that if he would come to town, he would himself place him in better hands. He obeyed; he went to London; he resolved upon a literary career; he sold his practice; he engaged to write a second novel. * * * * * I met this ex-G. P. the other day; he was standing among the secondhand bookshops in Holywell-street. 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And how he lived; by what shifts; and how low he sank; and into what companionship he fell; and in what ditch -he will die—nay—in what hospital he will die—all these things belong to the undiscovered chronicles: the Book of the Things Left Out. es THE LITERARY HANDMAID OF THE CHURCH. of May last. It was im St. James’s Hall, and it has been, for some unknown reasons, imperfectly reported. Neatly attired in a dress of grey nun’s cloth, with a white cap and a high white apron, and having a gold cross hanging from her neck, her face still apparently in its first youth, comely as Jerusalem, beautiful as Tirzah, the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley, even as the Lily among Thorns, stood before them all, the Literary Handmaid of the Church. But her eyes were red with weeping, and her cheek was ashamed and aflame, and she bowed her head, and thus she spoke, whispering and sobbing: “‘ Hear me, my brothers, hear me! I have done evil in the face of all the world, because I have loved money rather than righteousness, because, always to get more and more money, I have sweated the helpless and had no pity for the needy; because I have taken the work, the toil of the head and the hand, from the poor gentlewoman who cannot somplain, from the poor author who dares not complain, and have given them back, not what should be theirs by right, but a miserable dole and a scanty pittance, and bade them go work again for less. Yea, I have gained threefold, fourfold, tenfold, of what I gave them, and I repented not, but still grew greedier and more cruel, and harder and more unjust. As the needlewoman is sweated by her master, so have my company of authors been sweated by me—by the Literary Handmaid of the Church—yes— pious women, and godly, full of Christian graces, I have sweated them; I have sweated them! Woe is me!” She bowed her head, and wept before them all. Then she fell upon her knees. “ Forgive me,” she cried ; “ I will no longer be a sweater. Help me, you who know, help me in Sr held a public meeting on Friday, the zoth AUTHOR. the cause of righteousness—help me to repentance. What matter though we found bishoprics and distribute tracts if the money has been made by the sweat and the groans, and the labour of those who work for us? The Lord will enter into judgment with the ancients of His people—even with us—for the spoil of the poor isin our House. Therefore let us hasten to make reparation ; let us give back all that we have wrongfully kept ; let us deal righteously with our workers, even though we issue few Bibles and build no Sunday- schools at all. To what purpose is the multitude of Bibles? It is written, “Put away the evil of your doings; seek judgment; relieve the oppressed; plead for the widow. My brothers, I have sinned!” So she bowed her face to the ground, weeping and crying. And all the people lifted up their voices, and wept with her. And they arose and took the Princes, even those who stood on a high place around the Handmaid, and thrust them forth from the gates, crying, “ Woe unto you that call evil good, and good evil! That put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!” And when they turned them again, lo! the Handmaid of the Church stood upright once more, and her face shone with light, and she sang aloud her joy - because she had put away her sweating, and chosen righteousness. And all the people rejoiced with her, and they sang hymns and praises, with thanksgiving. spect IN THE NAME OF THE PROPHET—GLOVES. SS HE following letter has been sent to the Prophet. It is mortifying to relate that he received it in an uncongenial and un- sympathetic spirit. He even sent back the box of gloves which it contained with a cold, curt, unkind refusal to advertise the glove man in the way suggested. Yet surely it was a most liberal offer. An author—a mere Grub Street man—actually refuses a box of expensive gloves, offered him for nothing! Why, although his daughters may be unaccustomed to kid, and better acquainted with thread, he might at least have sold them to his kind and generous patron, the publisher! Absurd! In this paper we must publicly apologise to the glove man for the rude- ness of the author. Of course the enterprising merchant only behaved as anybody else would have done. The whole world knows how hard up weare. Anauthor is of no account. However, let him try again. All Grub Street is open to him. The others will perhaps behave quite differently. And think of the advertisement! Copies of his THE AUTHOR. 17 books to lie about the glove man’s beautiful show rooms. © A. B., Hse. ‘“ DEAR SIR, ‘“‘T am taking the liberty of forwarding a sample or two of my gloves, and shall esteem it a favour if you will allow a lady friend or two to try them (I will, of course, exchange them for any other size, if these sent should not happen to be right), and if you are pleased with their fit, &C., you perhaps might have an opportunity of bring- ing in my name when writing some of your new works, as being a meeting-place in London for ladies, which is really so, my show-rooms on the first floor, where all the Paris, Vienna, Brussels, and other foreign makes of gloves, fans, &c., are kept, i3 frequently crowded with the very best of London Society. “T was reading one of your books when this thought occurred to me that it would give a tone of reality to the reading, the name and address of my house being so well known. “Should you be pleased to give this suggestion athought, I shall be happy to show you my rooms and the class of goods also. If you called at a busy time of day, you could then form your own opinion as to the class of ladies patronising my place, and on my side, I shall be pleased to supply you with one dozen pairs of any kind of gloves you might think fit to select, and will also keep some of the books laying about the show-room. “ T am, dear Sir, “ Faithfully yours, eG). The following is the cruel reply referred to above : “Mr. A. B. begs to return the parcel of gloves sent by Mr. C. D. Mr. A. B. must beg to be excused from advertising himself or Mr. C. D. in the fashion suggested in Mr. C. D.’s letter of the 16th instant.” oe We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count life by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best. Batuey. VOL, III. SHAKESPEARE OR BACON. HE following lines were spoken by Mr. Joseph Jefferson, the comedian, ata lecture in “ Dramatic Art” given at Yale College, New Haven, on April 27th. They are taken from the New York Critic of May 7th. The question’s this, if I am not mistaken, “Did William Shakespeare or did Francis Bacon, Inspired by genius and by learning too, Compose the wondrous works we have in view ?” The scholar Bacon was a man of knowledge, But inspiration isn’t taught at college. With all the varied gifts in Will’s possession The wondering world asks, ‘‘ What was his profession?” He must have been a lawyer, says the lawyer ; He surely was a sawyer, says the sawyer ; The druggist says, of course he was a chemist ; The skilled mechanic dubs him a machinist ; The thoughtful sage declares him but a thinker, And every tinman swears he was a tinker. And so he’s claimed by every trade and factor ;— Your pardon, gentlemen, he was an actor ! And if you deem that I speak not aright, Tl prove it to you here in black and white, Not by the ink of modern scribes, you know, But by the print of centuries ago; For he was cast in Jonson’s famous play, And acted Knowell on its first essay. The buried King of Denmark at the Globe He played with Burbage in his sable robe, And good old Adam must not be forgot In “ As You Like It,” yes—or “‘as you like it not.” If Bacon wrote the plays, pray, tell me then Were all the wondrous sonnets from his pen Did Bacon, he himself a versifier, Resign these lovely lays and not aspire To be their author? Lay them on the shelf And only keep the bad ones for himself ? The argument against us most in vogue Is this, that William Shakespeare was a rogue— His character assailed, his worth belied, And every little foible magnified. We know that William, one night after dark, Went stealing deer in lonely Lucy Park, We also know Lord Bacon oft was prone, To take another’s money for his own. Now come, deal fairly, tell me which is worse, To poach a stag or steal another’s purse ? Lord Bacon did confess to his superiors, That he had taken bribes from his inferiors. From his own showing, then, it will be seen That he both robbed his country and his queen, A kind of aldermanic Yankee Doodle, Who cherished what we understand as boodle. So if good character is to be the test of it, Tt seems to me that William has the best of it. If Shakespeare was so poor a piece of stuff, How is it Bacon trusted him enough To throw these valued treasures at his feet And not so much as ask for a receipt? Such confidence is almost a monstrosity, And speaks of unexampled generosity. Oh, liberal Francis, tell us why we find Pope calling thee the ‘“‘ meanest of mankind” P Cc 18 But now to Shakespeare let us turn, I pray, And hear what his companions have to say. First, then, Ben Jonson, jealous of Will’s wit, Paid tribute when his epitaph he writ. If other proofs are wanting than rare Ben’s We will consult forthwith a group of friends. Awake! Beaumont and Fletcher, Spenser, Rowe, Arise ! and tell us, for you surely know: Was, or was not, my client the great poet? And if he wasn’t, don’t you think you’d know it? These, his companions, brother playwrights, mind, Could they be hoodwinked? Were they deaf or blind ? I find it stated, to our bard’s discredit— The author of the Cryptogram has said it— That Shakespeare’s tastes were vulgar and besotted, And all his family have been allotted To herd and consort with the low and squalid ; But whence the proof to make this statement valid P They even say his daughter could not read ; Of such a statement I can take no heed, Except to marvel at the logic of the slight; So, if she couldn’t read—he couldn’t write ? Your statements are confusing, and as such You’ve only proved that you have proved too much. The details of three hundred years ago We can’t accept, because we do not know. The general facts we are prepared to swallow, While unimportant trifies beat us hollow. We know full well That Nero was a sinner, But we can’t tell What Nero had for dinner. Now, prithee, take my hand, and come with me To where once stood the famous mulberry tree. Then on to Stratford Church, here take a peep At where the “‘ fathers of the hamlet sleep. They hold the place of honour for the dead, The family of Shakespeare at the head. Before the altar of this sacred place They have been given burial and grace. Your vague tradition is but a surmise ; The proof I offer is before your eyes. And oh, ye actors, brothers all in Art, Permit me just one moment to depart From this my subject, urging you some day To seek this sacred spot, and humbly pray That Shakespeare’s rage toward us will kindly soften. Because, you know, we’ve murdered him so often. I ask this for myself, a poor comedian : What should I do had I been a tragedian ? I could pile up a lot of other stuff, But I have taxed your patience quite enough; In turning o’er the matter in my mind, This is the plain solution that I find: It surely is—“ whoe’er the cap may fit ”»— Conceded that these wondrous plays were writ. So if my Shakespeare’s not the very same, It must have been another of that name. spec 13 14. 15. 16, 17. 18, a) 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. THE AUTHOR. MIXED MAXIMS. . As a human being, no one is unique; as an individual, every one must be. . Pessimism is debased phantasy; poetry is glorified vitality. . An harmony between natural verity, fact, and artificial fallacy is often miscalled “mystery.” . Chivalry is the mother-spirit in man. . Strength without chivalry is near akin to devilry. . “The age of chivalry” is a matter of temperament, not of tense. . Romance is not behind, but within. . Realised ideals are always the lower ones. . Humility is the highway to nobility. . The best tense—the perfect tense—lies in the future. . Selfishness is the soul of sin. . Motherliness, any more than selfishness, is not a matter of sex. Truth is the shell of the universe; love is its soul. Better an untruth “in love” than the truth in selfishness. Spitefulness apes truthfulness when used against the other man. Satire strives to alleviate what cynicism cares only to accentuate. Heartless humour is as worthless as is head- less wit. Pure wit is rare as genius; true humour varied as human hearts. Sympathy with vice sometimes poses as charity for the vicious. As love inspires the purest sanctity, so genius implies the rarest sanity. Providence provides opportunity ; man must supply capacity. There is no such thing as a true lovers’ quarrel. Jealousy is a soul-eclipse, when earthy self comes between. Love never entered a divorce court, for it never degraded. In a perfect life love is not lieutenant but general. The higher the woman the more of the child. Womanly women elevate, while womanish women deteriorate. A good daughter makes a better wife and a best mother. Harmony makes the divinity of marriage as of music. THE AUTHOR. 19 30. Love owes nothing to any order of man; it is the order of the universe. PHINLAY GLENELG. ee ODE TO SLEEP. ——S—-_ I. A shadow thou upon some shadowy strand ! Thine is a starlit land. Far,—very far away ! A lotus-land of blissfulness and balm, Where reigns an endless calm, And all is dim and grey. 2. There on a couch with slumbrous poppies spread, Thou pillowest thy head, And noddest in the gloom ! The drowsy nightshade ever slumbers there And aconite may dare Put forth its purple bloom! 3. In the dead silence art thou weaving still, Weaving for good or ill, Those unimagined dreams Which mortals know when they shall take their rest, Called at thy sweet behest, To lie by Lethe’s streams! 4. For when our hemisphere has lost its sun, : When the day’s toil is done— A hush o’er land and sea— Then, dost thou range this tired world again, To carry in the train The spirits loved by thee! 5. Then, armed with poppies, and blue aconite, And mandrake creamy white, Thou summonest thine own! Thou leadest them thro’ glimm’ring weedless ways To thread the dreamer’s maze Of labyrinths unknown. 6. The son of labour feels thy wings, O Sleep Above his pallet sweep And knows his heaven is nigh! But yonder monarch on his bed of down, Despite his jewelled crown, Thou proudly passeth by ! F. B. Doveton. NOTES FROM PARIS. ITH what a sigh of relief must Emile \ \ Zola have laid down his pen, three or four days ago, after writing the word “ Finis” at the endof La Débacle, a story which, as he has often told me, has given him more trouble and exacted more toil than any other of his books. I would have given a good deal to see that laying down, and to have had a Kodak with me. I will wager it was not calmly done, and can fancy the nervous little man dashing his quill not unviciously on to the floor, with an “Ouf” and an ‘‘ Enfin.” He is always m a rage against his work as he works. In L’@wvre he has described his feelings towards the productions of his pen. <<< Ss That contradiction of feelmgs which is one of the principal sources of human unhappiness, manifests itself im us authors most vividly before and after this writing of the word “ Finis.” How anxiously looked forward to a consummation, with what relief and gladness effected, and then a reaction comes, and one feels as one who has bid farewell to a dear friend, as a mother must feel who has borne a child in her arms for long hours, and who, having set it down and let it go, regrets the sweet aching and frets against the unwelcome relief. I was much amused the other day, in turning over the leaves of a German magazine, which has done me the honour of publishing a novel of mine in German translation, to see that the trans- lator had altered my dénouement, and with it the whole import of my story. He makes my hero commit suicide, who, by my authority, was left thriving. This upset in toto the solution of the psychological problem I had worked out. The German publishers doubtless thought that having paid their money they might take their choice as to the ultimate disposal of my hero. I considered it “ cheek.” Se It is, however, the sort of “ cheek ” that authors whose books are reproduced abroad must get used to. The American pirates, for instance, seem to consider one’s work much as cooks con- sider a piece of meat—a dish to be set to the sauce which shall most tickle their customer’s palates. Not only do they change titles, but they revise and often rewrite parts of the text. Your child comes back to you, often unrecognisable, as though it had passed through the hands of those Spanish manufacturers of monstrosities about which Hugo wrote in “ L’ Homme Qui Rit.” 20 Hugo’s executors state that in their belief the Guernsey diary of the master, which was reported to have been found recently, is a ‘fake,’ was never written by Hugo, but at most by some fellow exile, Boswell to his Johnson. I don’t think Hugo was the man to keep a diary, for he had other uses for his daily thoughts. I was Hugo’s next-door neighbour in Guernsey years ago, living in the house adjoining Haute- ville House. Our gardens were side by side. I was a lad. The poet had excellent plums. A pen fastened to a fishing-rod did the trick. So differently did Youth on one side and Old Age on the other side of a garden-wall employ the instrument which is mightier than the sword. Hugo, by the way, used to work in a kind of conservatory on the top of his house, and scan- dalised the old maids of Hauteville, in the hot weather, by divesting himself—when in the fever of composition—of most of his garments. —<— In England the man who has written a book, unless this has been a commercial success, is considered rather an ass, and will hide the fact rather than make it known. The contrary is the case in France. To have published a book, no matter whether ten or ten thousand copies of it were ‘“‘ taken up,” is to a man’s credit—gives him a status and consideration. Many pass their lives, satisfied with the dim aureole “ d’avoir été édité,” round their heads. It is as good—in the literary cafés and circles—as the violet ribbon in the button-hole. In France the littérateur is not judged like the soap-merchant, by pecuniary results, and owes his gloriole to the mere fact that he has, or thinks he has, something to say. — We are constantly reading—and, some of us, writing—about the misdeeds and dishonesty of American pirates. But what about the reverse of the medal? Is it not a fact that American authors are shamefully plundered by English publishers? Do not scores of English journals annex without acknowledgment—and it goes without saying without compensation in any form —all the best work of the American periodical press? Soyons justes. One of the weirdest of our confréres in Paris is an old Polish nobleman, against whom Fortune has been hard-hearted, and who may be seen all day long at the Café de la Paix, working with THE AUTHOR. de quoi écrire, at one of the marble tables in the end room. A mazagran of coffee is always at his elbow. His productions are pamphlets of hu- manitarian tendency, and are couched in Russian of great colour and vigour. His output is enor- mous, and as he publishes at his own expense, he has doubtless a large public. Each pamphlet consists of three pages, and is tariffed at a franc. But the great of this world, from the Emperor of China to the Governor-General of Odessa, receive his works gratis through the post. I read something the other day in an English paper about Jules Verne being a great walker and athlete. Verne, asamatter of fact, is practically a cripple. Two or three years ago, he suddenly received a visit from a nephew of his, who, after a hasty “ Bonjour, mon oncle,” drew out a revol- ver, and blazed away at him. One bullet hit Verne in the leg, and he has been lame ever since. The nephew, who is now living in a lunatic asylum, afterwards explained that he was anxious to see his uncle a member of the French Academy, and that he had done what he had done in order to attract attention and sympathy to his beloved relative. Francois Coppée, like Dumas, has shaken the dust off his feet on to Paris. He has retired a la campagne, not to plant cabbage, but to write in peace and quiet. Happy Frangois. He has found a beautiful old-world house at Brunoy, with a big garden, and fields and trees all around. May the tender-hearted poet be happy here. He is one of the most sympathetic figures in contemporary literature. He has the great quality of heart in days when we all cultivate our gall-bags with the zeal with which the Strasburg goose-breeder culti- vates the livers of his flock. He is sweet, and tender, and gentle, and though he dons a red flannel shirt when he writes, as unaffected and natural as a village child. Pailleron’s Tuesday dinners for men only are functions, to be present at which should be the desire of all who want to taste at the fountain head that sparkling brewage which we call Parisine—a tonic bitter, but delightfully refresh- ing draught. Pailleron is all sparkle. His repartee is now couched in faubourg slang and crushes like a sledge hammer, now academic with the sting of a rapier. His great hatred is against the world of professors. Old Sorbonne never had a more bitter foe. Get him to talk about the sages who write for the serious review, 70H AUTHOR. 24 and you will hear satire as you could like to hear it spoken. Alexis Bouvier is dead. I can imagine the con- temptuous shoulder-shiuggings with which this item of news was dismissed in the literary cafés of Paris. No matter that he died broken down after a stagnation of two year’s duration, an unhappy man, whose last months were dragged out on the proceeds of a recent charity sale. He wrote for money, the unpardonable act of the writer in France. He had animmense public and delighted them with blood-curdling feuilletons, He did it for a living and died, without reputation, in the shadow of starvation. I can imagine nothing sadder than the last moments of a man of letters who has not chosen the good part, who has gone for money and who has failed. Chatterton died of arsenic in his garret. It was very sad, but how much sadder would it have been, if, instead of falling a victim to his pride and belief in him- self, he had come to die inthe same way and in the same place, after trying his best to make money, by using his pen, not as his fancy and ideal directed, but at the dictates of the public and the publishers. Play for a high stake and lose. Tant pis, one pays withoutregret But to be beaten, ruined at shove-halfpenny! Poor Alexis Bouvier, whom Providence held on this side of the frontier of that Promised Land towards which the eyes of all authors are always turned ! Paris, May 20. Rozert H. SHERARD. oe TO MUSIC. Tones of a dying chord whose mellow strain Burst into deepfelt music on mine ear, Song whose fine melody thrills through me, hear What your pulsations bring, relief from pain,— Hail! minstrels of the air when I would fain Sleep in the dim unconsciousness of care That drowns the musings of a wayward lyre Of weariness, a heart sick, world tired brain. Ah! Music, Music lend your minstrelsy, And lull me into soft, subduing sleep, Like some poor helpless babe that restless lies Soothed by its mother’s loving lullaby, And when my last hour comes, come song and keep Sweet fellowship with one who with thee dies. AntTHONY RUDYERD. os THE JEW IN LITERATURE. HE following address was delivered by Mr. Hall Caine as the guest of the new Jewish : community, “‘ The Maccabeans,” at a dinner at St. James’s Restaurant, Piccadilly, on the 10th ult., and is reproduced by permission of the author. Mr. Caine said :— “The position of the Jew in literature is a theme so full of suggestion that it is astonishing that more has not been made of it. There are, at least, two aspects which it might be regarded: First, the Jew as a creator of literature; and then, the Jew as the subject of it. Both points of view would be full of surprises. On the one hand we find an early Hebraic literature showing a literary genius which is perhaps not to be equalled by that of any other race. It may be that no Jew can ever allow himself to look at the great literature of his literary fathers with an eye so cold, and in a light so dry as this, but I want your indulgence while I say that the Old Testa- ment writings, as we have got them, contain some of the most perfect stories in the literature of the world. Separated from its spiritual and historical significance, regarded merely as a literary entity, purely as a group of characters and incidents, I do not know anything to compare in beauty, pathos, picturesqueness, tragic power, and subli- mity with (may I use the word without offence) the novel, the romance which tells of the sojourn of the Israelites in Egypt, beginning with the sell- ing of Joseph by his brethren, and ending with the crossing of the Red Sea by the Children of Israel under Moses. We are first struck by the splendour of the literary genius of the early Hebrew, and next by the extraordinary eclipse of that genius in the Hebrew of the middle ages. Between the time, say of Josephus and our own century, there were, no doubt, Hebrew writers of great mark and influence; but am I altogether wrong in saying that, except in a few cases, their greatness was not creative, that it was mainly illustrative, explanatory, critical, and scholastic ? But if this is so, and you know best, there are abundant and adequate reasons for it. Jewish literary genius may easily have been choked by the odium of medieval malevolence. Creative powers had no force to spend on literature where the hourly necessities were those of flesh and blood. Nevertheless out of that darkness two Jewish names shine as stars. One of them is the name of a great philosopher, who, though not a believer in your ancient faith, was nevertheless a mind so tremendous that no Jew can help being proud of him—I mean Spinoza. The other is that of a wayward, wilful, heavv-laboured, sorely- 22 THE AUTHOR. afflicted child of genius, the ‘tearful trifler,’ who, like the leper of his own thrilling story, made joyful songs for the happy part of the world to sing while he lay himself in a lodging of Paris amid the odour of blankets and medicines ——an unbelieving Jew, but nevertheless a Jew whom all Jews must be eager to claim—I mean Heine. And now that the modern Jew has sur- vived the barbarism of medixval oppression, the literary genius that is in him is again beginning to show itself. During this second half of the 19th century the Jew has made his contributions to the sum’ of human knowledge. He is found in nearly every walk of literary activity. “ And now, if I am not plunging in dangerous waters, I would say something of the Jew as a subject of literature. Here again we are face to face with the old inveterate contradiction which always dogs the feet of the Jew in his literary character. On the other hand we have the ancient history of an heroic people—great in prosperity, strong in adversity ; on the other hand an abject picture of a sort of cuckoo race, building no nest of its own, and rearing its young in the nests of others—an excrescent nation that trails through the centuries with the stigma of the heretic and the leper combined. When we think of the Jew as a figure in literature, we first remember Shakespeare. What does Shakespeare do with the Jew? The answer seems to be an unwelcome one. He talks of him constantly as a sort of pariah dog; he uses his name as a metaphor for cunning and duplicity ; he casts the liver of a Jew —happily an unbelieving Jew—into the witches’ cauldron that is to work such woeful mischief, and, above all, he puts his full-bodied conception of the Jew into the person of Shylock. It may be that for these offences the modern Jew, with all his reverence for mighty genius, loves Shakes- peare a shade the less. But my own faith in Shakespeare is so vast, and my confidence in his prophetic gift so absolute, that it would hurt me to believe that in this matter of the right attitude towards the Jew he was not (as he assuredly was in everything else) at least three centuries before his time. We have to remember that Shakespeare, as a dramatist, had to earn his bread and butter by the favour of the populace, and that in the moral atmosphere of the people of his day (as seen in Marlow’s ‘Jew of Malta’ and elsewhere) the Jews were an accursed race, the enemies of mankind, and the especial foes of Christianity. And if any Jew feels sore that the greatest of English poets saw nothing in the Jewish character but greed and merciless vindic- tiveness, let him go to any theatre where the ‘Merchant of Venice’ is being played, and watch, not the play, but the effect of it on a Christian audience. Above all, if it should be his luck, as it was lately mime, to see Shylock in the person of Mr. Irving, his grievance against Shakespeare will be gone for ever. He will realise that the centre of human interest is this very man, who has been talked of as the incar- nation of evil. Every tender touch that will make straight to the heart will be Shylock’s—the knife and the scales, the talk of the flesh and the blood, will go for no more than a momentary creep of the skin; but the downfall of the broken creature, the taunts of the enemies who triumph over him, the demand of the judge that he shall turn Christian, his last word of poor human infirmity— I pray you give me leaye to go from hence ; I am not well, —and his final exit will leave one feeling only exhibited on the face of the spectators—a feeling of profound pity for the man who began with everything and everyone against him, who has lost all, the wife he loved, the daughter who was his sole treasure, and the wealth that had been his bulwark against the world. All the grand rhetoric about the quality of mercy, and all the exquisite poetry of the scene of the moonlight will be forgotten, and the last deposit of the dramatist will be a plea for justice to the Jew. Now, I cannot believe that an effect like that could have been produced by accident, or without the conscious design of the dramatist. In short, my strong conviction is that, though Shakespeare Imew that to please the groundlings of his time it was necessary to heap contempt on the Jew, et in his heart as a man and his brain as a seer he felt and saw that the Jew was basely dealt with, and that the future would justify him. Indeed, I feel so sure of this that I challenge contradiction on the point that during the 300 odd years in which the ‘Merchant of Venice ’ has been played the curtain can never have fallen on the fourth act of it without the balance of sentiment being on the side of Shylock. If that is so, we must talk no longer of Shakespeare as anti-Semitic. For three centuries he has been the friend of the Jew. It is a fact worth men- tioning that after Shakespeare and his contem- poraries, down to our own century, no great English writer seems to have felt the Jewish cha- racter strongly. I can remember no important portrait of-a Jew in Fielding or Richardson or Smollett. Richard Cumberland certainly wrote two plays, both on the side of Jewish sympathy, ‘The Jew’ and ‘The Jew of Mogadore,’ and Thomas Dibden wrote at least one play, ‘The Jew and the Doctor, with the design of vindi- cating the Jewish character. Then of other sort we have the usurous Jews of the comedies 2H AUTHOR. 23 of Sheridan, as well as their spendthrift Christians, one of whom, as you remember, rejoices in the probable discovery of the ten lost tribes of Israelites for the good reason that he has exhausted the patience of the other two. But perhaps the first effort on a high level, without apology or restraint, was made in the Isaac of York of Scott’s ‘Ivanhoe.’ After that came a small group of noble Jewish studies, including those of Disraeli (whose theories of the doctrine of race deserve more attention than they receive), and George Eliot, of whom, perhaps, we can only wish that her later genius had vitalised Daniel Deronda as her earlier genius had vitalised Adam Bede. But the studies of heroic Jewish character have been astonishingly few in English literature, and few of that few have had a general acceptance. Only sketches of grotesque Jews have been numerous and popular. The Fagin of Dickens, a wonderfully vivid and no doubt essentially realistic piece of art, has been the father of a large family. Why is this? Is it because the writers copy each other, having no knowledge of better types? And if so, is their ignorance altogether their fault or partly their misfortune ¥ Do the Jews, in their old inveterate distrust of the showman (and the imaginative writer is a sort of showman), in their dislike and fear of the man who, as novelist and dramatist, has pursued them through the centuries with odium and ridicule, shut themselves up from him and so make it difficult to see the nobler qualities which no man carries on his sleeve? Certainly it does sometimes seem that if the walls of the Ghetto are fallen the Jewish company is still undispersed. The invisible bulwarks about the Jew appear formidable to some Christians. It has been my personal happiness to know one or two Jews of the best type on intimate terms of friendship, and it has therefore been easy for me to see the ancient and heroic side of Jewish cha- racter. May I dare to say ina company of Jews that it would be wellif the Jew came oftener out of the Mellah into the light and free air of the world that is common to all men? The Jew is notoriously assimilative and clubable, and it would be easy for him, in England at least, to laugh the grotesque Jew out of all claim to be regarded as atype. The mention of Fagin recalls a very real monstrosity which we smile at nearly as often as we seea play of London life, but which really almost deserves our genuine indignation— the Jew of the modern stage. We all know the worthy gentleman in his little shabby hat and his long sack coat, with his nasal snuffle and his mincing walk. The silly old buffoon is never so high in histrionic rank as the low comedian, for that is a jester whom the public is expected to laugh with, whereas the Jew is the living gargoyle whom they are expected to laughat. His charac- teristics are cunning and cowardice, usually tinc- tured with the greenest stupidity. Every fool scores off him, and his latter end is usually one of battered hats and eclipsed eyeballs. I will not say that this foolish person is invented solely in order that the public may indulge itself with laughter at the Jews, but that, some butt of ridicule being necessary, it is safer in England to make him a Jew than a Quaker, or a Plymouth Brother, or even a Mormon. For the silly caricature itself, there must perforce be some recognisable original in life; but surely it is a poor thing if the senti- ment of the modern English people is prepared to accept no more serious type of Jewish character. We remember, with a thrill of the heart, the noble- spirited Jews of the age, and we ask ourselves if it can be true that the English playgoer is unable or unwilling to contemplate with delight the good man and philanthropist in the person of a Jew. We are assured that it is so. Some time ago a well-known actor called on me to ask if I could write a play that would fit him with an appro- priate part. I took time to consider, and then propounded a scheme that centred in a Jew. My Jew was an heroic Jew—he did great things in a great way, but he did them in the way of a Jew, for he was a Jew to the inmost fibre of his being. There lay the rock on which my craft foundered. The actor would have nothing to say to my Jew. ‘An heroic Jew on the English stage is an impos- sibility,’ he said. ‘We give that class of person to the man who plays eccentric comedy.’ Now, why was this? Was it merely that the public had never had anything better offered to them than the zany out of the broker’s shop in White- chapel? Or was it that the public would reject the heroic Jew because they had found nothing heroic in the Jewish character to go upon? | I concluded that there was no reason in the nature of things why the nobler types of Jewish character should not find acceptance in literature just as they find it in life, and I resolved at all hazards to make the experiment of trying an heroic Jew on the English public. I have not yet been able to try him on the stage, but I have, as you know, tried him in a novel, with results which surpass my expectations; and I believe that just as the heroic Jew has been accepted in fiction, so he would be accepted on the boards; and that the dramatist will do a good work who breaks down the absurd superstition that the English public will take nothing in the person of a Jew but the buffoon in a bad hat. “The Jews have, perhaps, always been objects of ridicule on the stage, if not from the time of Aristophanes, certainly through the middle ages, 24 in the carnivals and other festivals ; and they have ever been known, as in the Purim plays of the 16th and 17th centuries, to use the stage against themselves, their rabbis, and even to some extent their faith. It has been an accepted con- vention throughout the centuries in many lands that the religion and character of the Jew might with safety be held up to the laughter not of tolerance and good humour, but of something like hatred and contempt as the incarnation of impossible vices and the perpetrator of inconceiv- able crimes, but it is, nevertheless, strange that in those countries of Europe where hatred of the Jews goes farthest this indisposition (which the English actors are so sure of) to accept the heroic Jew is not to be found. Germany, where the party of the judenhetze is, unhappily, so power- ful, has received with applause many plays, both in the present and past, wherein the Jew rises to the heights of tragedy. ‘ Uriel Acosta,’ though not strictly a play of Judaic bias, nevertheless deals with Jewish characters and beliefs on a high level of serious acceptance ; and it is at once the lasting honour, and I will say the standing shame, of Germany, that one of the very greatest of her sons, Lessing (a powerful and lifelong friend of the Hebrew people), writing in the 18th century, espoused the cause of the Jew in two great heroic works, ‘Nathan the Wise’ and ‘ The Jews,’ with the most obvious and deliberate in- tention of undermining that same intolerance with which the Judenhetzes, coming a hundred years later, have disgraced their age and country. Indeed, if I were asked what writer in modern times had been the champion of the Jews in Christendom, I think I should say Lessing, and the weapon he used was the only one that is now possible in the warfare against intolerance and persecution. ee ON LITERATURE. I. Av vue Royat Lirerary Fund. T its annual dinner Mr. Lecky, the chair- man, made a speech, of which the following is an extract as it was reported in the Times : “ It was one of its peculiarities that there were in literature large departments that could never be made remunerative. Many of the qualities which they most desired to see imported into literature were directly opposed to the pecuniary interests of those who practised them. Tt was true now, as-it was long ago, that the books that lived were not the books by which THE AUTHOR. authors lived. Some books failed because they did not accord with the passing taste or fashion of the hour; some because their thought was in advance of the time. For a long period Carlyle found only a few readers of that “ Sartor Resartus ” which was now the most popular of his books. Browning totally failed to catch the ear of the general public till years after the publication of the very poems on which his reputation now mainly rested. At the present day he supposed there were more books published than in any other period of the world’s history ; but he also supposed that there never was @ period in literary history at which there was so much literary talent not employed in pure litera- ture. A great deal of our literary talent was employed in the production of the daily and weekly papers. No one could fail to be struck by the excellent writing which at the present day characterised scientific work. The writings of such men as Herschel and Lyell among the dead and Huxley and Tyndall among the living, afforded conspicuous examples of this excel- lence. A great French writer once said that literature would lead to anything provided that one abandoned it; and, in spite of all the charges that had taken place in recent times, he supposed that it was still true that no wise man would recommend a young man to devote himself to the higher forms of literature, unless he happened to possess an independent competence or a self- supporting profession.” Il. Av var Royat AcapemMy DINNER. The following is the report of Prof. Butcher’s speech at the Royal Academy dinner, as given in the Times :—“ Any one who in this age proposes the toast of literature has this singular advan- tage, that almost every one of his audience is pretty sure at some time or another to have committed himself to print; either he has written a book, or edited a paper, or, at least, produced a volume of poems. In the brillant assemblage here this evening there are, Limagine, those present who are so busy making literature that they must have but few moments left for reading it; there are also those who are making history, arid making it so fast that they have little leisure for studying history. Now, the makers of literature are at present largely occupied with recording or commenting on the sayings of the makers of history; and they find it, I fancy, no light task to keep pace with the makers of history, least of all in the Easter recess. But ‘litera- ture in this sense is probably not that which THE the President was chiefly thinking of when he pro- posed the toast of ‘ Literature,’ and proposed it, if I may be allowed to say so, in such a way as most loyally to pay back to the Greeks, and in language which they themselves would have delighted to listen to, his debt of nurture to them. In the name of those authors, whom men call dead, I would thank him for the tribute of such praise; and I would also add a word of private gratitude for his generous mention of myself, who am merely the humble interpreter of those same authors, whom I believe to be living. Of literature there are many grades. A rail- way guide, or a peerage, or a Blue-book is not literature, nor even what is known as scientific literature. At what point writing becomes literature it is not easy to say definitely. But there are signs to-day that the truth discovered by tho Greeks is penetrating men’s minds—the truth, I mean, that the writing which does not awaken human thought, which does not engage the emotions or hold the affections, the writing into which beauty of form does not enter, is not literature, but the raw material of literature. I would not be supposed to suggest that a British popular audience, like some Greek audiences of which we read, is as yet in any danger of getting ear-ache or neuralgia from some defective harmonies of spoken or written prose. Still the feeling begins to prevail that he who would worthily pursue the calling of letters must have somethmg of the spirit of the artist, and that well-written books alone survive. That there is apt to be a weak side to literary estheticism, who candoubt? In ‘ Don Quixote’ we read of a certain author who was renowned for ‘the brilliancy of his prose and the beautiful perplexity of his expression.’ We seem to know the type. Let the phrase be but beautiful and rhythmical, musical and flowing, and it matters not if the fine words conceal emptiness beneath. A minor poet was described by an ancient writer as ‘a strange phantom fed upon dew and ambrosia.’ Him, too, we know. His sustenance is not upon the solid earth. He sings and soars; he loves and laments, he knows not what or why; harmonious and meaningless is his song. The cult of the meaningless is from time to time in the ascendant. You, gentlemen, who are Academicians are sometimes invited to become its votaries. Not long ago I was at an exhibition of pictures elsewhere. I stood in wonder before a certain portrait, which I could not understand. I begged a friend who was initiated into the principles of the school to explain it. The reply was, ‘Think away the head and the face, and you have a residuum of pure colour. Whether this doctrine is to be ac- AUTHOR. 25 cepted in painting, and particularly in portrait paimting, I do not know; but in literature at least it means sure decay. Think away the meaning, get rid of the context, and you have beautiful and pure form. Yes, form is essential, but not form without substance. Here, again, we come back to the Greeks as the models of the true literary spirit—the Greeks, who were able even to make science literary, and to produce a treatise on medicine, which bears the stamp of the great masters of language. They felt, indeed, that the writer is an artist, and not an artisan; that beauty is of the essence of literature, and that a formless work of literature is in truth a misnomer, being dead from the out- set. Yet the literary writer is not a maker of fine phrases or a singer in the void. Inthe great Greek authors the words used seem to be the direct reflection of the thing seen. Nothing comes between the eye and the object. They are words of vision. Instead of the approximate, the con- ventional, the insipid word, you have the precise and happily expressive term. Yet the phrase is never importunate. The style is not strained or self-asserting. It does not seek for itself a separate existence. And the secret of the matter hes in this, that the writer had something to say, and was not merely concerned as to how he said it. He was in close contact with realities. He touched the springs of national life. He used, while at the same time he ennobled, the native idiom of the people. It is the glory of Greek literature that of all literatures it is at once the most artistic and the most popular; and this supreme merit belongs hardly in a less degree to our own English literature. That is the true democratic spirit in things literary.. And our hope, our best hope, for the literature of the future would be that, as the democratic movement extends and calls forth enlarged intel- lectual sympathies, the old Hellenic harmony may be established between that eternal love of beauty on which all art and literature rest and that love of scientific truth which is one of the dominant marks of this century.” ee FROM THE PAPERS. —— i Friction MANnuracturED By THE YARD. EW YORK can boast of many curious institutions ; perhaps the most wonderful is a real and fully equipped literary factory. Mr. Edward W. Bok, the well-known literary critic, came across the place the other 26 THE day, and in the Philadelphia Weekly Times describes the remarkable industry. This literary factory (he says) is hidden away in one of the by-streets of New York, where one would never dream of finding anything in the shape of litera- ture. It employs over thirty people, mostly girls and women. For the most part these girls are intelligent. It is their duty to read all the daily and weekly periodicals in the land. These “exchanges ” are bought by the pound from an old junk dealer. Any unusual story of city life—mostly the mis- doings of city people—is marked by these girls and turned over to one of three managers. These managers, who are men, select the best of these marked articles, and turn over such as are available to one of a corps of five women, who digest the happening given to them and transform it to a skeleton or outline for a story. This shell, if it may be so called, is then referred to the chief manager, who turns to a large address book and adapts the skeleton to some one of the hundred or more writers entered on his book. Enclosed with the skeleton is sent a blank form, of which the following is an exact copy: To Please make of the enclosed material a —— part story, not to exceed words for each part. Delivery of copy must be by at the latest. A cheque for dols. will be sent you upon receipt of manuscript. Notify us at once whether you can carry out this commis- sion for us. Very respectfully, Now, the most remarkable part of this remarkable literary manufactory to me, was that manager's address book of authors upon whom he felt at liberty to call for these “written by the yard” stories. The book was handed to me to look over, for my private examination, of course. There were at least twenty writers upon that book which the public would never think of associating with this class of work—men and women of good lite- rary reputation, whose work is often encountered in some of our best magazines. “Not such a bad list of authors, is it?”’ laugh- ingly said the “manager” as he noted my look of astonishment. I was compelled to confess it was not. “Why, those authors to whose names you have pointed are glad to do this work for us. Their willingness is -far greater than our ability to supply them with ‘ plots.’ “ What in the world do you do with these stories?”’ I asked. ‘‘ We sell them to the cheaper sensational weeklies, to boiler-plate factories, and to publishers of hair- curling libraries of adventure.” Upon further inquiry, I found that very good prices were paid the authors, and that, of course, AUTHOR. even better rates were received by the “factory” from their customers. The fact is this business is of the most profitable character to its owners. Were it a stock company, a handsome dividend could be declared each year. The “ factory” does not care where its authors get their material from so long as the story, when finished, is cal- culated to please the miscellaneons audience for which it is intended. ‘Situations,’ and of the most dramatic and startling character must be frequent, and two or three murders and a rescue or two in one chapter are not a bit too many. Talk about writing stories to order! Here isa completely equipped factory which actually cuts them out with a hatchet! Patt Marui GAzerte. May 23, 1892. ——— II. A Curious EXPERIMENT. The case of the editor who wants to contri- bute an article to some other periodical than his own is acuriousone, For the time being he has put himself in the place of a contributor, and feels the pangs of a timid author. There was once a newspaper editor who was inspired to write an article of a light and enter- taining character, suitable for a magazine. He wrote it in his odd moments, and then set to speculating whether it had any particular value. Tt seemed to him that it had, but the reflection that he might be prejudiced in its favour troubled him. He had had precisely the same feeling when someone had brought him an article that he wanted to judge favourably. How was he to get his own impartial judgment of his own article? He thought about it some time, and finally decided that the only way to get the necessary conditions was to send himself the article through the post, to receive it with other contributions, and to treat it all the way through as if it were somebody else’s. The plan worked like a charm. The editor wrote a little note to himself to accompany the article, enclosed stamps for a reply or a return of the manuscript, and mailed the whole at the post-office. Towards the close of the day, when the editor was near the end of a lot of wearisome communications, and had got himself into the declining mood that comes with fatigue, his article arrived. After he had allowed it to lie for awhile he broke the seal and read it. Then he took a little slip, wrote on it reflectively, inclosed it with the manuscript in a big envelope, stuck on the stamp, sealed the envelope, and put it into the department marked “ post-office” in THE the tin box that hung by the side of the desk. Next morning he received the parcel back, and read with breathless interest this note, which accompanied the manuscript :— “ Unsuitable. Too discursive and trivial in its tone. Should have been elaborated with more care. Many passages not needed in the presenta- tion of the idea. Contains promise, however. Author is advised to try again.”—Leeds Satur- day Journal, March 5, 1892. TEE. PERSONAL. The literary editor or book-reviewer is some- times less bored than at others by his monotonous task. When he receives a letter from an obscure publishing-house, enclosing “personal gossip ”’ about the author of some forthcoming book, ac- companied by a promise to send “a cloth copy of the book, the moment it is issued, with the author’s autograph,” if only he will print the said gossip “in advance, as news,” he is easily able to conjure up a smile. And when he receives such a note as the following (written so recently as April 14), he can smile again—if he be of a cynical turn of mind: “If not out of harmony with any of your regulations, I will greatly appreciate the publication of something similar to the following ‘| among your literary personals.’ This is the a) 5: 6° Mire, , who contributed to the March , the charming little poem ‘ = which seems to have been very kindly considerec by the newspapers of the country, is the wife of , the well-known journalist and writer, whose verses are familiar to the readers of the and .’ The “@” comes from the “well-known writer and journalist’ whose wife’s “charming little poem” “seems to have been very kindly considered by the newspapers.” But this is not the way to secure “kindly considera- tion” for “charming little poems.” “Heaven defend us from our friends ’’—and husbands.— New York Critic. ——— LV Tuomas Moors. From the diary of Thomas Moore, p. 263 :— “19th. Some pleasant talk with Strangford about old times, the times when he and I were gay young gentlemen (and both almost equally penniless) about town, and that rogue C. was tricking us both out of the profits of our first poetical vagaries. The price of a horse (£30) which C. advanced, the horse falling lame at the same time, was all that Strangford, I believe, got AUTHOR. 27 from him for his ‘ Camoens,’ and my little account was despatched in pretty much the same manner. I remember, as vividly almost as if it took place but yesterday, C. coming into my bedroom about noon one day (some ball having kept me up late the night before), and telling me that, on looking over my account with him, he found the balance against me toabout £60. Such a sum was to me, at that time, almost beyond counting. I instantly started up from my pillow exclaiming, ‘ What zs to be done ?’ when he said very kindly, that if I would make over to him the copyright of ‘ Little’s Poems’ (then in their first blush of success) he would cancel the whole account. ‘My dear fellow,’ I exclaimed, ‘ most willingly, and thanks for the relief you have given me.’ I cannot take upon myself now to say how much this made the whole amount I received for the work, but it was something very triflmg, and C. himself told a friend of mine, some years after, that he was in the receipt of nearly £200 a year from the sale of that volume.” Oe CORRESPONDENCE. ———>+- > i WaAs THERE A Contract to PusLisH? R. FITZGERALD MOLLOY’S note on “ Magazines and Editors” reminds me of an experience of mine which raises a question of some interest. In 1883 I sent an article to the Saturday Review which was accepted and promptly published and paid for. Early in 1884 I submitted a second article to the Saturday, which was also accepted, and a proof of which I received and returned corrected. Time passed—a considerable time--but the essay did not appear. At last, being about to leave England, I wrote to state the fact and to ask the favour of payment. A cheque was promptly forwarded to me and duly acknowledged; but year after year went by without mv article appearing. In 1890, having returned to England, I wrote to the editor of the Saturday Review, inquiring whether it was intended to shelve my little essay definitely, and, if so, whether I might be permitted to resume my right of property in it, as I had kepta copy. The editor sent mea courteous letter in reply, which, however, did not answer my questions. Practically, it amounted to an expression of the opinion that, as I had been paid, I had nothing to complain of. This view, I know, pretty generally prevails in such eases; but, although I am myself an humble member of the editorial guild, I cannot agree 28 THE © with it. Surely publication is essential to the due fulfilment of the contract between editor and contributor. If it be withheld, ought not the latter, after a reasonable time, to be allowed to put his manuscript in the market again, if he has been wise enough to keep a copy? I do not see that he ought to be called on first to refund the purchase money, the breach of contract not being on his side. Moreover, he would have to take the chance that the lapse of time would have deprived his work of interest. In the case of my paid-for but unpublished contribution to the Saturday Review, however, the subject is one of more interest now than it was in 1884. I might give the ana the essay contained a new setting, but, ought I to be called on to take the trouble, and would the Saturday Review be entitled to complain, if I did take it ? Leita DERweEnt. [Leith Derwent” has fallen into a not un- common confusion. When a paper, such as the Saturday Review, consists entirely of unsigned articles, the editor is as much responsible for the opinions of each article as if he had written them himself. The opinions are those of the paper ; the paper is himself. He therefore has the com- plete right of altering, suppressing, adding to, changing, or abridging any article that is offered to him. This right has always been exercised without question by all editors in the case of unsigned articles. ‘(Leith Derwent” offered a paper which was set up by the editor, and the copyright of which was paid for, though it is doubtful whether the editor was legally obliged to pay for it. There the author’s rights over the paper ceased, except that, by the copynght law, he could republish it after twenty-eight years. But, says “‘ Leith Derwent,’ does not the print- ing of the article involve a contract to publish? Let us consider. Suppose the article was found to contain matter against the policy advocated by the paper, or libellous, or in any other way dangerous and hurtful, would the editor be held, in any court of law, obliged to publish it? Certainly not. As for dressing up the paper im a new setting, no one but the author can answer the question. | II. Macazines AND Epirors. Is this experience a common one? In the year 1888 I sent a short story to a well-known monthly magazine, whose list of contributors in- cludes almost every famous name in contemporary letters. Within three months I received a letter from the editor, offermg me one guinea for the AUTHOR. use of the story. I wasa very young author then, and not acquainted with the perfection of our postal service ; and, albeit the sum was miserably inadequate, I accepted. This was in June; the story was published and paid for in November. Now comes the strange part of the incident. Two months later, the proprietors of the magazine—a firm of reputation and standing—wrote to me, enclosing a cheque for £1 5s. as “moiety of sum received from America for the use of your story here.” Doubtless themselves retained the other moiety, and thus got my story for nothing, and made besides a profit of four shillings! The ques- tion arises, what right had they—seeing that originally they had only paid me for the use of the story in their magazine—to retain a part of any sum accruing to the author over and above? I sought advice; apparently there was no redress. I was not then a member of the society. Davip Lawson JOHNSTONE. SS Ii. TRANSLATIONS. Sir, May I ask you whether any agency exists through which some luckless translators may discover who may be at work upon the volumes they fondly hope to introduce to English readers ? When we have written to the foreign publishers, without receiving any intimation that we are forestalled, what other precautions can we take ? 1 have just had the pleasure of reading a review, in a literary newspaper, of “ Countess Erika’s Ap- prenticeship,” a pleasing German novel only sent us last Christmas, but which I made haste to render into English as soon as the publisher’s letter was received. Twice before this fate has befallen my poor pen, and once, en revanche, a poor lady met with a similar fate through me. It was only when my version of the ‘‘ Chancellor of the Tyrol” was out, that a despairing letter from a fellow-worker told me that a labour of months had been hers in vain—that she, too, had been fired by the desire to make English readers know that fine story. We should be gratified for any hints which might spare us so much labour in vain. Your obedient servant, DorotHEa RosBErts. May 7, 1892. [Translators would spare themselves much disappointment if they did not attempt work until they had obtained the leave and licence of theauthor. This once obtained, they are perfectly safe.—Hp1rTor. | : THE ING Tue JLirerary anp Art AGENCY. In the report of this case, published in your last issue, I see that “the Reverend” T. B.S. Harington is reported to have said that he had procured a situation through his agency for a person as secretary to the Association for pre- venting the Immigration of Destitute Aliens. As I thought this might possibly refer to one of my clerks, I have made inquiries upon the sub- ject, and [ find no one employed by this Associa- tion has had any dealings with Harington or his Agency. The statement therefore must have been a fabrication. W. H. Witkrns. Hon. Secretary. Association for Preventing the Immigration of Destitute Aliens, 158, Arlington Street, S.W. “AT THE AUTHOR'S HEAD.” SS Esmé Stuart has written a novel called “ Virginie’s Husband” (Innes and Co.). The author’s writing is well known and always welcome. Pure in style and thought, dainty and delicate in expression, clear of outline, and steady in purpose, this book is fully equal to her reputation. James Russell Lowell’s lectures on the English Dramatists will be published in the autumn by Houghton, Mifflin, and Co. We call attention to a book entitled ‘ Taxa- tion, 1891-2. A History,” an anonymous work published by Eden, Remington, and Co. It con- tains an account of the taxation of the country, the revenue, customs, excise, stamps, and duties of all kinds. There is an elaborate index, and the work will be found useful as a compendium of the whole subject. The death of Mr. James Osgood has been a great shock to many of us. In starting the firm of Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., in Albermarle- street, he was avowedly anxious to work on such lines as would be approved and agreed upon between himself and this Society. He was singularly candid, and always ready to discuss fairly and openly those points which cause friction and ill-feeling between author and publisher. O si sic omnes! AUTHOR. 29 We copy from the Athenxwn the announce- ments that Mr. P. W. Clayden is engaged upon a political history of the last six years; that Professor Huxley is collecting his recent essays, and that Mr. Samuel Butler is preparing a memoir of his grandfather, Head Master of Shrewsbury, which will present a picture of school life early in the century. Mr. Hamilton Aidé’s new novel, “ A Voyage of Discovery,” is issued by Messrs. Osgood and M‘Ilvaine. Mr. H. Savile Clarke’s contribution to the ““Whitefriars Library of Wit and Humour,” is called “A Little Flutter. Stage, Story, and Stanza.” Mr. Egerton Castle’s new book is a reprint of seven stories which have already appeared in magazines. It is a book to note, and to buy, and to read. A coloured woman has just published a novel in America, the first ever published by a member of her race. It is entitled “ True Love,’ and is fairly up to the average of such works. The authoress, Sarah E. Farro, is quite black of complexion, and is twenty- six years old. Her favourite authors are Holmes, Dickens, and Thackeray. She lives in Chicago, where she has had a high school educa- tion. London City Suburbs, by Percy Fitzgerald and William Luker, Jun., a companion volume to the beautifully illustrated ‘ London City,” issued last year from the Leadenhall Press, is announced to appear in the autumn, and the prospectus is now ready. A list of Sub- scribers’ names and addresses is to be printed in the work. The Queen has accepted the dedication. The fifteenth edition of an advanced mathe- matical work is some proof of the extent of mathematical studies. Thirty years ago Mr. W. H. Besant, F.R.S., D.S.C., produced the first edition of ‘“‘Elementary Hydrostatics, with Chapters on the Motion of Fluids and on Sound.” On an average each edition has lasted two years. Few books in science have so long a life. The publishers have always been George Bell and Sons. Mrs. John Croker’s new novel, ‘‘ Interference,” which has been running serially in India and England, will be published simultaneously in London (F. V. White), Canada, and America. It is also translated into German. 30 There is a complaint that the tomb of Theodore Hook in Fulham churchyard is crumbling to pieces. As is the tomb, sois the man. Theodore Hook has been crumbling to pieces for many years. Who, nowadays, reads “Jack Brag”? His collected essays and pieces are dreary reading ; his jokes are all old; his stories forgotten. No one can remember many stories very long unless they have got the humanity strong and warm. Compare the grave of Theodore Hook with that of Charles Lamb. The latter is neat, well cared for, well kept, because his memory is green and his works delight as much now as in his own generation. If we leave off visiting the grave of Theodore Hook, if we leave it to fall into decay, it is because we are forgetting the man and all he wrote. Mr. Charles Garvice has written, and Mr. George Munro of New York has published, a story entitled ‘Paid For.” This is a strong tale. Many of its situations are not very novel, but they are strikingly treated. It has been arranged, through the Authors’ Syndicate that Mr. James Payn’s new story, “A Stumble on the Threshold,” should run serially through the Queen, beginning in July next. The story will be published in the autumn simultaneously by Mr. Horace Cox and Messrs. D. Appleton and Co. Messrs. Chatto and Windus are holding back Mr. Walter Besant’s “ London” until October, in consequence of the probable near approach of the General Election. A very large number of publishers have made arrangements to hold over their forthcoming volumes for the same cause. The Authors’ Syndicate has also arranged for the serial publication of the following stories :— “Capt'n Davy’s Honeymoon,” by Hall Caine, in Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper ; ‘‘ The Countess Radna,’ by W. EH. Norris, in the Cornhill Magazine; ‘The Last Sentence,” by Maxwell Gray, in Great Thoughts; ‘‘ December Roses,” by Mrs. Campbell Praed, in Sala’s Journal. Mr. E. J. Goodman’s new mystery story, “The Fate of Herbert Wayne,’ will commence to run in a number of newspapers in July. The arrangements have been made by the Authors’ Syndicate. Mr. Hall Caine has practically re-written the new edition of the ‘ Scapegoat,” which has just been published by Mr. Wm. Heinemann Several chapters have been deleted and three new chapters added, and the story has been largely re-cast. THE AUTHOR. Mr. A. Egmont Hake has written a volume entitled “Suffering London, or the Hygienic, Moral, Social and Political Relation of our Voluntary Hospitals to Society,” which, with an introduction by Mr. Walter Besant, has just been published by the Scientific Press Limited. The volume undoubtedly throws a vivid light on the whole of the hospital question, and is sure to attract wide attention. Mr. Hake shows a wide and many-sided knowledge of all the elements of this great problem. Mr. William Toynbee’s English version of Béranger will be issued this month by Walter Scott Limited, in the Canterbury Poets series. Messrs. F. V. White and Co. will publish during this month a new novel by John Strange Winter under the title of ‘My Geoff; the Experiences of a Lady Help,” in one volume. at 2s. 6d. The story has been running as a serial during the last six months in Winter’s Weekly. A small illustrated volume entitled ‘“ The Cruise of the Tomahawk; the Story of a Summer Holiday,” is about to be published by Messrs. Eden and Remington. It is wmitten by Mrs. Leith-Adams, assisted by two friends, and gives a graphic description of life on the river. Mrs. Leith-Adams has also a new three volume work in the press. It is called “The Peyton Romance,” and will be published by Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench, and Co. H.S.H. the Princess Victoria Mary of Teck, having accepted with approval the Prelude to the Idylls of the Queen (by William Alfred Gibbs), has also expressed a wish for the con- tinuation of this work. Part I. will now, therefore, be published by Messrs. Sampson, Low, Marston, and Co. early in June. The profits will be given in aid of the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. A correspondent asks us to call attention to a novel called, ‘A Fellowe and his Wife.” by William Sharp and Blanche Howard. “Devil Caresfoot,” the stage version of Mr. Rider Haggard’s ‘‘ Dawn,” by C. Haddon Cham- bers and J. Stanley Little, is to be put up for a run in the provinces shortly, and its revival in London is talked about. Mr. R. Orton Prowse has written, and Messrs. Methuen have published, “The Poison of Asps,” a one volume story which shows considerable promise. THE AUTHOR, 31 In our specification of the more noticeable books issued last month, we omitted to mention “‘ Golden Face:-A Tale of the Wild West,’ by Bertram Mitford. A stirring story full of dramatic inci- dent, based upon the state of affairs immediately preceding the Sioux War of 1876. Itis published by Trischler and Co. Mr. Leonard Merrick’s new two-volume novel, “The Man Who Was Good,” is announced by Messrs. Chatto and Windus. The Publisher's Circular is responsible for the rumour that Mr. Rudyard Kipling intends to reside permanently at Vermont, U.S.A. Messrs. Chatto and Windus have published Mr. Walter Besant’s new collection of short stories, “‘ Verbena, Camellia, Stephanotis.” The other stories included in this volume are “ The Doubts of Dives,” ‘The Demoniac,” and “The Doll’s House.” NEW BOOKS AND NEW EDITIONS. ———— Theology. Aton, Henry, D.D. Comfort in the Wilderness. The last sermon preached in Union Chapel, Islington, on Sunday, April 10, by the late Henry Allon, D.D. With portrait. Williams, Moorgate Street, E.C. Paper covers, 6d. Auton, Henry D.D. The Indwelling Christ, and other Sermons. Isbister and Co., Tavistock Street. 7s. 6d. Barron, Epw. Pinper, M.A. Regni Evangelium; A Survey of the Teaching of Jesus Christ. Williams and Norgate, Henrietta Street. 6s. Bru, Cuartes D.,D.D. The Name above Every Name, and other Sermons. Edward Arnold, Bedford Street. 5s. Burns, WALTER. Anthems and Hymns. New and enlarged edition. Published by the author, at Rose- mary Street, Belfast. Cloth, 1s. 6d. CHURCH OF IRELAND, THE. By Thomas Olden,M.A. The National Churches Series, edited by P. H. Ditchfield, M.A. With maps. Wells Gardner, Paternoster Build- ings. D’Atvietta, Count G. The Hibbert Lectures on the Origin and Growth of the Conception of God, as illus- trated by Anthropology and History. Williams and Norgate. 10s. 6d. Dawson, Rev. W. J. The Church of To-morrow: a series of addresses delivered in America, Canada, and Great Britain. James Clarke and Co. 43s. 6d. Ho.isorow, Arruur. Evolution and Scripture, or the relation between the teaching of Scripture and the con- clusions of astronomy, geology, and biology, with an inquiry into the nature of the Scriptures and inspira- tion. Kegan Paul. Lay, Joun Warp. St. Matthew’s Gospel: Who Wrote it, and How Far may it be Considered Apocryphal ? Kegan Paul. 3d. Mactaren, AuEx., D.D. The Gospel of St. Matthew. Vol. 1. Hodder and Stoughton. 3s. 6d. MopERN CuurcH, Tax: A Journal of; Scottish Religious Life. Vol. 1. E. W. Allen, Ave Maria Lane. Murpuy, THomas. The Position of the Catholic Church in England and Wales durmg the Last Two Centuries: Retrospect and Forecast. Prize Essays. Edited for the XV. Club by the Lord Braye, president of the club. Burns and Oates. 2s. 6d. Or THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. Kegan Paul. RawnsuEy, H. D. Notes for the Nile, together with a metrical rendering of the Hymns of Ancient Egypt and of the precepts of Ptah-Hotep (the oldest book in the world). Heinemann, Bedford-street. 5s. In Latin and English. RoBERTSON-SmitH, W. The Old Testament in the Jewish Church: a Course of Lectures on Biblical Criticism. Second Edition, revised and much enlarged. A. and C. Black. Srrona,T.B., M.A. A Manual of Theology. A. and C. Black. Taytor, C., D.D. The Witness of Hermas to the Four Gospels. C. J. Clay and Sons, Cambridge University Press. THOROLD, Rr. Rev., A. W., D.D. Questions of Faith and Duty. Isbister and Co., Tavistock Street, Covent Garden. Tuckrmr, A. B. Witnesses of These Things. With a preface by the Bishop of Durham. Griffith, Farran. Is. 6d. WILLINK, Rev. A. Not “Death’s Dark Night;’ an Hour’s Communion with the Dead. Skeffington and Son, Piccadilly. History and Biography. BaiLtey, JoHN Burn. From Sinner to Saint; or, Cha- racter Transformations. Being a few biographical sketches of historic individuals whose moral lives under- went a remarkable change. Chapman and Hall. 6s. BELLASIO, Epwarp. Cardinal Newman as a Musician. Paper covers. Kegan Paul. BLoMFIEZLD, J. C. Elliott Stock. Bioaa, H. Brrpwoop, M.A. The Life of Francis Duncan, C.B., R.A., M.P., late Director of the Ambulance Department of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem in England. With an introduction by the Bishop of Chester. Kegan Paul. Bonnar, THomAs. Biographical Sketch of George Meikle Kemp, Architect of The Scott Monument. Edinburgh. Blackwood. CuARKE, WituIaAmM. Walt Whitman. With a portrait. Dillettante Library Series. Swan Sonnenschein and History of Lower and Upper Heyford. Co. Craik, Henry. Swift—Selections from his Works. Edited, with Life, Introductions, and Notes. In two vols. Vol. I. Clarendor Press, Oxford, and Henry Froude, Amen Corner. 7s. 6d. of In THE TEMPLE: Sketches, some of them reprinted from the Law Gazette. Hutchinson and Co. Paper covers, Is. Keyser, CHarues 8S. Minden Armais: The Man of the New Race. With a preface and a post-face on the establishment of the marital relation between the white and black races in the former Slave States. And an appendix containing the views of Bishop Dudley, Archbishop Ireland, Bishop Tanner, and Bishop Potter, and of Canon Rawlinson, on its advantages to the nation. American Printing House, Philadelphia. Paper covers, 50 cents. : Lana, ANDREW, Letters on Literature. A new edition. Longmans. 2s. 6d. Laurie, §. §., LL.D. Teachers’ Guild Addresses and the Registration of Teachers. 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Terms and testimonials from leading Authors on application to Mr. A. M. Burghes, Authors’ Agent, 1, Paternoster-row. Printed and Published by Horace Cox, Bream’s-buildings, London, E.C. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Author, Vol. 03 Issue 01 (June 1892) Subject The topic of the resource The Author, Vol. 03 Issue 01 (June 1892) Type The nature or genre of the resource Publication Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 1892-06-01-The-Author-3-1 publications The Author