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outside of New England; and he who reads between the lines sees easily that for them the Saturday Club comes near to being the court of ultimate appeal. The thing which makes their writings of lasting value and raises their work to the dignity of literature is that they had fine reverence for literary tradition, and, above all, that they believed in imagination rather than in elaboration, holding that observation should be its servant and not its master. With the extinction of this group ends the continuity of literary tradition in America, and however good and great the new may be, to see the old vanish must bring to every lover of literature a deep sense of melancholy.

Arlo Bates.

He occupied a unique and distinctive place in American literature.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

HARTFORD, October 19, 1894.

I paid my first tribute to Oliver Wendell Holmes by listening to our hired man (out in the cornfield) recite "How the Old Hoss Won the Bet." I sat on a pumpkin while the hired man rolled off those sounding lines, wherein the hoof-strokes throbbed and the sulky wheels flashed in the sun.

That was poetry comprehensible to a boy of sixteen whose life was spent largely on horseback. A year or two later I made my schoolmates feel it in the chapel at "Friday exercises." It does not mean as much to me now, but "The Autocrat" means more. The essayist rises higher than the poet -witty, tender; wise in human frailty, but never bitter.

CHICAGO, October 19.

Hamlin Garland.

New England has had no more genuine representative than Dr. Holmes on the intellectual side; he had its strength, and he had also its limitations. His quickness, keenness, pungency, lucidity, and wit were the characteristic qualities of his ancestry and his section brought to the highest point of development and touched with genius. His mind had a marvellous agility, accuracy, and versatility; it turned, like a gem, many ways, and light flashed from every facet which it presented. He was investigator, physician, novelist, poet, philosopher, critic, lecturer; and whatever he did was done with

brilliancy, insight, and finish. He did not, like Lowell, voice the intense moral earnestness of New England; nor did he, like Whittier and Emerson, compass its highest reaches of spiritual elevation; but its moral health, its keen, swift movement of mind, and its untiring curiosity and energy were his in high degree. He was much more a man of the world than Emerson, Longfellow, Hawthorne, or Whittier, but it was the best world for which he cared - the world of thought, of wit, of contact with the best in life and art, of the highest breeding and the keenest sense of honor.

Hamilton W. Mabie.

It is impossible to sum up in only a few words impressions of a many-sided man like Oliver Wendell Holmes. I shall, therefore, touch upon only one phase of his extraordinary personality, and this I will illustrate with an anecdote. One afternoon, some years ago, I chanced to call upon Mr. Longfellow just after he had received a visit from the doctor. "What a delightful man he is!" said he. "But he has left me, as he generally does, with a headache." When I inquired how that came about, he replied, "The movement of his mind is so much more rapid than mine that I often find it difficult to follow him, and if I keep up the strain for any length of time, a headache is the usual penalty."

I met the Autocrat on many and various occasions, and was always impressed though never oppressed by the trait ascribed to him by Longfellow-the phenomenal rapidity of his mental processes. Not that he talked fast, but that his turns of thought were surprisingly bright and quick, and often made with a kind of scientific precision, charmingly in contrast with the looseness of statement which commonly characterizes the conversation of those who speak volubly and think fast. I never saw him when his genius did not seem to be thus alive and alert. In view of this habitual vivacity, how we must marvel at his length of life, measured not by years, but by the amount of thought and feeling and spiritual energy that animated — I had almost said electrified — him throughout his long and brilliant career.

ARLINGTON, October 30, 1894.

7. T. Trowbridge.

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THE WRITER is published the first day of every month. It will be sent, post-paid, ONE YEAR for ONE Dollar.

All drafts and money orders should be made payable to The Writer Publishing Co. Stamps, or local checks, should not be sent in payment for subscriptions.

**The WritER will be sent only to those who have paid for it in advance. Accounts cannot be opened for subscriptions, and names will not be entered on the list unless the subscription order is accompanied by a remittance. When subscriptions expire the names of subscribers will be taken off the list unless an order for renewal, accompanied by remittance, is received. Due notice will be given to every subscriber of the expiration of his subscription.

No sample copies of THE WRITER will be sent free.

The American News Company, of New York, and the New England News Company, of Boston, and their branches, are wholesale agents for THE WRITER. It may be ordered from any newsdealer, or direct, by mail, from the publisher.

*** Everything that may be printed in the magazine will be written expressly for it.

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No one among the younger readers of "The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table" to-day can help envying those who were fortunate enough, nearly forty years ago, to have the opportunity of reading those delightful papers as they appeared month after month in the Atlantic, when all the contemporaneous allusions contained in them were fresh and so easily understood at sight by every reader. So those who may come after us will envy us the privilege of having lived when Longfellow, and Lowell, and Whittier, and Holmes were still actual personalities, and of knowing them from themselves as well as from their books. That Dr. Holmes' genius was fully appreciated by his contemporaries is attested by the interesting estimates of him contributed by leading Ameri

can authors to this number of THE WRITER. That his reputation will be a lasting one all who are familiar with his many-sided works will readily agree. His eminence in American literature is shown most clearly by the general acknowledgment that, now that he is gone, there is no one among living writers in this country who can take his place.

In the October number of THE WRITER a news note said that the pamphlet, "An Intramural View of the Ladies' Home Journal," described "the Home Journal's building." The publishers of the Home Journal, New York, say in a letter since received: :

We clip this paragraph from the latest number of THE WRITER and desire to call your attention to the error of fact. The publication referred to describes not the Home Journal building, but the building of the Ladies' Home Journal. The title of a newspaper is not the smallest part of its stock in trade. Your interesting journal is not given to making errors, and we beg that you will excuse us for directing your kind attention to this mistake. Very truly yours,


There is usually something to be said on both sides of every question, but Lucy C. Bull does not present a very strong argument in her article in the North American Review discussing the use of foreign phrases in English writing. "It is difficult," she says, " to see reason in the objections urged by many against the use of foreign phrases whenever it is possible to avoid them. The day of American indifference to things transatlantic is indeed gone by; nor is it probable that the extreme position of Mr. Bryant in excluding foreign phrases from the daily paper of which he was editor will ever again be taken by a man of his breadth of mind. The current is setting in another direction and a due regard for other standards than our own in art, in politics, and in the amenities of life is replacing the disposition to ignore them. Yet that contempt for things foreign which reached its height some fifty years ago was too deep-rooted not to survive in certain modes of thought, and to this source it may not be altogether unreasonable to refer the dislike of foreign phrases. No doubt the abuse of classical quotations and French phrases by ornate writers has prejudiced many against

even a moderate use of things good in themselves. Yet it is hard to see why a happy medium may not be struck between use and abuse."

There may be a few foreign words and phrases which do not have an exact equivalent in English, and the use of which in English writing is for that reason sometimes excusable, but such phrases are very, very few so rare, indeed, that they afford only the exception inevitable in the case of every general rule. The best way is to avoid the use of anything but English words wherever it is possible, leaving the few cases where the use of a foreign phrase is essential to take care of themselves. If a writer starts with this idea, he will be astonished to see how few foreign words are necessities in his vocabulary. He will find, for example, that that favorite phrase “nom de plume," so often wrongly used for "nom de guerre," is no more expressive than "pen name" or "pseudonym," and so it is with most of the other foreign phrases that authors have a tendency to use. A writer should remember that even in these days of general education very many of his readers do not know any language other than English, and that if he wants to be fully understood by every reader he must govern himself accordingly. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the use of foreign phrases is an affectation, and, like all other affectations, should be avoided by those who want to write in the most effective way.

W. H. H.

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mind with the thought that it carries the possibility of a Phoenix.

Say, then, that you have the promise of an article from one of the most etceterable and etceteraed of our native writers, and it will be like a signed check with the amount left blank.

Prophets and priests may desire it long and die without the sight, but will die saying, "When the great UNWRITTEN ARTICLR does come, then you will see!" and so turn their faces to the wall.

Let us leave it unwritten, then, for the present, and think how much more precious is an infinite series of undefined expectations than any paltry performance or transient fruition. In the mean time, believe me always very sincerely and faithfully yours, O. W. HOLMES. I am truly yours, Edward Everett Hale.

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[(1.) There is practically no sale for letters from foreign countries. Such matter is usually gratuitous, and it is hard to place even when no payment is expected.

(2.) Translations, like letters of travel, are hard to sell. In the case of short stories, they must be new. In the case of poems, it does not matter so much whether they have been previously translated or not. Success with translated poems depends principally on the merit of the translation.

(3.) The best way to approach a newspaper editor is to send him a manuscript and offer it for sale. -W. H. H.]


For many years, in almost every issue of THE WRITER, I have noticed authors' complaints of long delays of some publishers in reading manuscripts. In my own experience I recall one magazine editor who waited nearly thirteen months before writing, "The story,

is accepted." As a matter of news, pleasing to authors, I imagine it would be of interest to know that the editor of one New York magazine (the American Angler) has certainly broken the record in promptness, at

least. A story sent to him recently brought the following reply: "Your note, with manuscript, received ten (10) minutes ago. I will have the photos reproduced, and the article printed in our November issue." J. E. G. TOLEDO, O.

Speaking of "Inconsistencies of Illustration," a subject discussed at some length in recent issues of THE WRITER, -two recent examples may be noted. In the October Century (p. 882) Mrs. Burton Harrison describes a young lady as "attired in a white morning frock and a sash of white satin belted around the waist." On p. 889 Irving R. Wiles' illustration makes the sash dark enough to be black. Somewhere else I have recently seen a picture illustrating the interior of a room. The author describes "a small four-paned window the only one in the room," and the illustrator has not only put in a twelve-pane sash, but has made the man sitting there, who was described as very short, so tall that even when seated his head was almost on a level with the top of the second



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H. E. R.

BACK COUNTRY POEMS. By Sam Walter Foss. Illustrated. 258 pp. Cloth, $1.50. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1894. This new edition of the collected poems of Sam Walter Foss will be welcomed by countless readers. Mr. Foss is a genuine Yankee poet, and his work is distinguished by the sound sense and shrewd humor characteristic

of the native New Englander. His poems have had a wide circulation in the newspapers, and scores of them are scrap-book favorites. They picture the back-country life of New England as it really is, and in such a way that those who are most familiar with it can get the keenest pleasure from them. It is a pleasure to see them published in this attractive new illustrated edition.

W. H. H.

ARMAZINDY. By James Whitcomb Riley. 169 pp. Cloth, $1.25. Indianapolis: The Bowen-Merrill Company. 1894. Now that Dr. Holmes is gone, there are critics who are almost ready to accord to James Whitcomb Riley the first place among living American poets. Those who regard him simply as a dialect writer do not do justice to the variety and the originality of his work. Many of his best poems are not in dialect, and some of the dialect poems that have won the widest fame would be hardly less attractive if they

were recast in ordinary speech. This new volume includes all of Mr. Riley's latest work, and well illustrates the variety of his genius. There is one piece of prose, "Twiggs and Tudens." The rest is poetry, and it ranges from "Armazindy," the dialect piece which gives the title to the book, to the long poem, "An Idyl of the King," and the children's verses that conclude the volume. An interesting feature of the book is the poem "Leonainie," which Riley wrote early in his career in imitation of the style of Poe, with such success that even such an excellent literary authority as E. C. Stedman maintained that Poe unquestionably wrote it. The author has never permitted it to be printed in his other volumes.

W. H. H.

LOVE IN IDLENESS. A tale of Bar Harbor. By F. Marion Crawford. With illustrations produced from drawings and photographs. Cloth, $2.00. New York: Macmillan & Co. 1894.

This holiday edition of Mr. Crawford's new story of Bar Harbor life forms an attractive addition to the well-known Cranford Series. The charm of the story, which won general favor when it was first published in the Century, is enhanced now by a wealth of artistic half-tone illustrations, made from photographs and drawings of Bar Harbor scenery. These illustrations alone would make the book valuable to any one who has ever been at Bar Harbor or who is interested in any way in Maine's famous summer resort. With its tasteful binding, full gilt edges, and exquisite typography, the volume deserves a leading place among the holiday publications of 1894.

W. H. H.

A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. By Allen C. Thomas, A. M. 410 and lxxii. pp. Half leather, $1.25. Boston: D. C. Heath & Co. 1894.

The value of this new history of the United States consists largely in the detailed attention given to late events, much the greater portion of the book being devoted to the era beginning with 1789. Throughout special attention is given to the political, social, and economic development of the nation. The book is well illustrated, the later portraits being half-tone cuts, with all the value of original photographs.

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in teaching methods for the prevention of disease. The chapter headings are: Soil and Climate, Clothing and Protection of the Body, Bathing and Personal Hygiene, Physical Exercise, Schools and Their Influence on Health, Occupation, Lighting, Buildings and Streets, Heating, Ventilation, Foods, Food Preparation and Adaptation, Diet, Water and Water Supplies, Disposal of Fluid Waste, Sewers, House Drainage, Plumbing, Disposal of the Dead, Bacteria and Disease, Infectious Diseases, Disinfection. A full index greatly enhances

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A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON NERVOUS EXHAUSTION (Neuras. THENIA). By George M. Beard. A. M., M. D. Edited, with notes and additions, by A. D. Rockwell, A. M., M. D. Third edition, enlarged, 262 pp. Cloth, $2.75. New York: E. B. Treat. 1894.

Literary workers so frequently become victims of neurasthenia, that for them this treatise by the late Dr. Beard and Dr. Rockwell has a special value, particularly as Dr. Rockwell says that it is admitted by all whose experience entitles their opinion to weight that the disease is in most instances entirely curable, and in some cases self-curable. All that modern medical science knows of nervous exhaustion is included in this work, the third edition of which has been enlarged and brought up to date in all respects.

W. H. H.

THE PEARL OF INDIA. Maturin M. Ballou. 335 pp. Cloth, $1.50. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, & Co. 1894.

It is always entertaining to travel with Mr. Ballou. His latest volume describes the attractions and beauties of Ceylon, "gem of the Orient," which is now traversed so generally by railways and excellent government roads, Mr. Ballou says, that there is very little hardship to be encountered in visiting its remotest districts. Everything about Ceylon that any one could wish to know is included in the book. To travellers it will be a helpful guide in journeying about the island, and those who must do their travelling by the fireside will find it most delightful reading.

W. H. H.

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readers. The pictures of Florida in this new "sketch-book" are true to nature and full of suggestive thought. The chapter headings are: In the Flat-woods, Beside the Marsh, On the Beach at Daytonia, Along the Hillsborough, A Morning at the Old Sugar Mill, On the Upper St. John's, On the St. Augustine Road, Ornithology on a Cotton Plantation, A Florida Shrine, and Walks about Tallahassee.

W. H. H.


TRILBY. By George Du Maurier. 464 PP. Cloth, $1.75. New York: Harper & Bros. 1894. The attention of readers of THE WRITER is called to the article entitled "A Criticism of 'Trilby,'" published in the October number of the magazine. In addition to what was said there it is necessary to say now only that the book has been issued in an illustrated volume by Harper & Bros., and that the publishers are having hard work to print copies enough to supply the public demand. Those who have read the story as it appeared serially in Harper's Magazine will be interested to observe how ingeniously the part published in the February number has been changed, to appease the outraged feelings of Mr. Whistler, who caricatured in it by the author. W. H. H. LOURDES. By Emile Zola. 486 pp. Cloth, $1.25. Chicago: F. Tennyson Neely. 1894.


If for no other reason, general interest in M. Zola's latest novel is sure to be excited by the fact that it has been put on the index expurgatorius of the Roman Catholic church. The story attracted much attention as it was published recently in several of the newspapers of America. Now it is issued complete in a single portly volume, well-printed and bound, as the introductory volume of Neely's International Library. In its new form it is sure to have a widespread circulation. W. H. H. THE JEROME BANNERS. Comprising The Rest Banner, The Joy Banner, The Every-Day Banner, and What Will the Violets Be? By Irene E. Jerome. 50 cents each. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1894.

Among the attractive art novelties of the Christmas season these dainty banners are sure to take a prominent place. Each leaflet or banner consists of four parts, beautifully decorated in colors and gold, attached by ribbons of appropriate shades, combined with extracts from popular authors, and enclosed in decorated envelopes. Each banner when hung is about twenty-one inches long by seven and one-half inches wide. Miss Jerome's designs are tasteful and artistic, and the banners will find favor with all lovers of the beautiful.

W. H. H.

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. Edited by Anna E. Mack. 228 pp. Cloth, $1 50. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1894.

This dainty volume of love poems contains many gems of poetry, and there is hardly a

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