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None of us thought for a minute that 'Within the Law' would be the success that it is. We all looked for a moderate hit and a run possibly until the first of the year, but that we should sell out on the second night that the play was presented in New York and never have an empty seat in the house for three hundred performances was beyond our wildest dreams.

"The play will make a fortune for Mr. Selwyn and his associates, and it's doing very well indeed for me, too, thank you kindly."

Arnold Bennett's Views on Writing. One reason why a play is easier to write than a novel is that a play is shorter than a novel. On the average one may say that it takes six plays to make the matter of a novel. Other things being equal, a short work of art presents fewer difficulties than a longer one. The contrary is held true by the majority, but then the majority, having never attempted to produce a long work of art, are unqualified to offer an opinion. It is said that the most difficult form of poetry is the sonnet. But the most difficult form of poetry is the epic. The proof that the sonnet is the most difficult form is alleged to be in the fewness of perfect sonnets.

There are, however, few more perfect sonnets than perfect epics. A perfect sonnet may be a heavenly accident. But such accidents can never happen to writers of epics. Some years ago we had an enormous palaver about the "art of the short story," which numerous persons who had omitted to write novels pronounced to be more difficult than the novel. But the fact remains that there are scores of perfect short stories,

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whereas it is doubtful whether anybody but Turgenieff ever did write a perfect novel.

A short form is easier to manipulate than a long form because its construction is less complicated, because the balance of its proportions can be more easily corrected by means of a rapid survey, because it is lawful and even necessary in it to leave undone many things which are very hard to do, and because the emotional strain is less prolonged. The most difficult thing in all art is to maintain the imaginative tension unslackened throughout a considerable period. Arnold Bennett, in the Metropolitan Magazine.

LITERARY ARTICLES IN PERIODICALS.

[Readers who send to the publishers of the periodicals indexed for copies of the periodicals containing the articles mentioned in the following reference list will confer a favor if they will mention THE WRITER.]

ON ALLOWING THE EDITOR TO SHOP EARLY FOR CHRISTMAS. Leonard Hatch. Open Letters. Century for July.

RECOLLECTIONS OF FREDERIC REMINGTON. With pictures by Frederic Remington and portrait. Augustus Thomas. Century for July.

DIFFERENCES IN ENGLISH AND AMERICAN USAGE. Thomas R. Lounsbury. Harper's Magazine for July. THE AUTHOR OF "ROBINSON CRUSOE " (Daniel Defoe ). Edith Wyatt. North American Review for July.

THE YOUNGER NOVELISTS. Mrs. W. L. Courtney. North American Review for July.

A CONFESSION IN PROSE. (By one who describes himself only as a professional writer since twentyone, and as one who has suddenly comprehended what cadence means in prose.) Atlantic for July.

THE CLASSICS AGAIN. Henry Dwight Sedgwick. Atlantic for July.

PEPYS AT CHURCH. George Hodges. Atlantic for July.

LITTLE PICTURES OF O. HENRY. Arthur W. Page. Bookman for July.

INCONCLUSIVENESS AND SOME RECENT NOVELS. F. T. Cooper. Bookman for July.

THE DIAL'S PURITAN EDITOR (Francis Fisher Browne). With portrait. American Review of Reviews for July.

WRITING PLAYS. Arnold Bennett. Metropolitan for July.

GLIMPSES OF THOMAS CARLYLE. Percy Fitzgerald. Contemporary Review for June.

ANDREW LANG. Eastern and Western Review for June.

FRANCIS FISHER BROWNE, 1843-1913. Dial for June 1.

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J. M. Barrie has been made a baronet. Hall Caine at sixty is said to be getting at least $50,000 a year from his literary work.

Jack London announces that he will not only exact good prices hereafter for motion picture delineations of his short stories and novels, but will also act in them, so as to insure the right sort of interpretation of his heroes.

The French Academy has awarded its literary grand prize of $2,000 to Romain Rolland, the playwright, novelist and historical writer, author of "Jean Christophe." The prize was intended for a novel published within two years, but a debate arose as to whether it should be awarded to a beginner or as recompense a for distinguished career. The Academy adopted the latter view, but in 1912 it adopted the former suggestion, when the prize was given to Lafon's pupil Gilles. The award is so difficult to make that it was not given to any one in 1911, when the prize was founded.

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Premier Asquith, answering questions in the House of Commons about the laureateship, said that the place carries a salary of $350 a year, with an allowance of $135 in lieu of "a butt of sack," and that he did not know the exact duties of the poet.

Thomas Nelson Page has been made ambassador to Italy, and Henry Van Dyke has been nominated for minister to the Netherlands. Meredith Nicholson has declined the nosition of minister to Portugal.

The papers by Robert Sterling Yard, the new editor of the Century, on book publishing which have been appearing recently in various periodicals will be published in book form in the autumn by the Houghton Mifflin Company, under the title, 'The Publisher."

A new biography of John Keats is being written by Sir Sidney Colvin.

"Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters: A Family Record," compiled by William Austen-Leigh and Richard Arthur Austen-Leigh, is published by E. P. Dutton & Co.

The present Earl of Lytton is preparing a biography of his grandfather, the novelist, to be published in the fall.

A brief "Life of William Ernest Henley," by L. Cope Cornford, is published by the Houghton Mifflin Company.

"The Son of a Servant," by August Strindberg, translated by Claude Field and published by G. P. Putnam's Sons, is a record of the early years of the author's life.

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'Ellen Key: Her Life and Her Works," by Louise Nystrom-Hamilton of Stockholm, translated from the Swedish by Anna E. B. Fries, is published by the Putnams. In "The English Lyric," by Felix A. Schelling, published by the Houghton Mifflin Company, Professor Schelling, beginning with the earliest emergence of English song, traces the development of the lyric in England down to the present moment, giving due heed to its characteristic forms in succeeding ages and to the various influences that have from time to time affected it.

"A Sunny Life," by Isabel C. Barrows, published by Little, Brown, & Co., is the biography of Rev. Samuel June Barrows, clergyman, editor, congressman, and secretary of the Prison Association of New York.

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The American Sunday School Union offers $2,000 in three prizes for three books, as follows: (1) One thousand dollars to the author who presents the best original work upon Christian Unity: Jesus Christ's Idea of It: How and Why It Should Be Realized To-day;" (2) six hundred dollars for the best original work and (3) four hundred dollars for the next best original work, to be written upon the topic, 'Amusements How Can They Be Made to Promote the Highest Well-Being of Society?" The Society desires works of a practical, instructive, and popular character, convenient in size, having from about 40,000 to about 70,000 words in each book. Manuscripts must be submitted by October 1, 1914, to the American Sunday-School Union, 1816 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Penn.

"The Poet and Philosopher," published at Tampa, Fla., by Fritz L. Schmidt, Jr., LL. B., editor and manager, is a new quarterly magazine devoted to the art of poetry.

The Newspaper Publishers' Company has been formed in Louisville, Ky., to publish a monthly illustrated magazine which will be issued as a supplement to daily papers in the smaller towns of Ohio and Indiana. The first issue will be dated August 9. George G. Fetter, head of a large printing establishment of Louisville, which will print the paper, is president of the company, Howard C. Wedekemper, of the same company, is treasurer, and Jack Woodson, formerly of the editorial staff of the Louisville Times, is editor.

William B. Howland, publisher of the Outlook for twenty-three years, has resigned his position, and will go to the Independent, in which he has bought a large interest. His sons, Karl V. S. Howland and Harold J. Howland, have also resigned their Outlook positions, and Harold J. Howland will become associate editor of the Independent. Mr. Howland has retained his share in the ownership of the Outlook, and Karl V. S. Howland will continue to represent the Howland interest on the board of directors of the Outlook Company.

The Woman's World (Chicago) has been purchased by Woman's World, Incorporated. This follows the placing of the business of the Woman's World Publishing Company in the hands of Curtis P. Brady as receiver in bankruptcy. The new company is capitalized at $1,500,000. The old company was capitalized at $2,500,000. It is announced that the various departments of the magazine will continue to be under the same management as heretofore.

A receiver for the Watchman, the old Boston Baptist weekly, has been asked for by George E. Horr, who claims $2,100; Joseph S. Swaim, who claims $1,100; and Edmund F. Merriam, who claims $2,400. Mr. Swaim and Mr. Merriam are editors of the Watchman and Dr. Horr is president of the corporation. The assets exceed $10,000 and the liabilities are less than $9,000, but there is a disagreement among the stockholders of the paper.

Robert J. Kellogg, president of the Kellogg Music Publishing Co., was arraigned in New York June 18, charged with using the mails to defraud. According to Postoffice Inspector Mayhew, ambitious poets were the victims. He charges that Kellogg advertised to set poems to music, publish them, and pay the authors liberal royalties. A fee of $21 was charged. Mr. Mayhew says that the songs rarely were published, but when a client became insistent the publisher would print a few copies for the author. In such cases, the inspector says, he set the song to old music.

Colonel Harvey in his valedictory says that Harper's Weekly has been losing money for twenty years.

Frederick A. Ober died at Hackensack, N. J., May 31, aged sixty-four.

Alfred Austin, British poet laureate since 1896, died in London, June 2, aged seventy

seven.

Rev. Dr. Charles A. Briggs died in New York, June 9, aged seventy-two.

Thomas A. Janvier died in New York, June 18, aged sixty-three.

Mrs. Mary Harrison Seymour died at Litchfield, Conn., June 26, aged seventy-eight.

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE TO INTEREST AND HELP ALL LITERARY WORKERS.

VOL. XXV.

BOSTON, AUGUST, 1913.

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There was a diffident knocking at the door on a Sunday night. On the dark landing that ended a broken staircase stood a small, delicate youth, who spoke unmistakably from Scotland.

"My name is Barrie. I am the new leader writer." He proceeded to explain that he was "a-awfully tired" after the long journey from Edinburgh. He had taken the precaution of writing a leading article in the train for next day's paper, which he hoped would satisfy the occasion. And he would like to go home to bed.

No. 8.

The leading article was written in pencil, on both sides of the two fly leaves, yellow glazed, of a pocket edition of Horace, there and then torn out. The writing was minute, and most legible - apparently.

I received the visitor with the dignity becoming to a youngster of twenty, appointed but a few hours earlier to the position of sub-editor-in-charge of the Nottingham Daily Journal, then proudly the oldest provincial daily paper. I had lied a little about my age. I had mustered up courage to ask two pounds a week!

The senior proprietor said: “H'm! Yes! We pay monthly. That will be eight pounds a month."

I learned, in due course, that Barrie had asked three pounds a week, which had been accepted with "H'm! Yes! That will be twelve pounds a month."

Barrie was a spendthrift in generosity, but he never forgave this ingenious reduction of a suggested three pounds per week to an actual two pounds fifteen and fourpence per week. The proprietors of the Nottingham Daily Journal were extremely rich, and grimly watched their paper die without making any effort to save it. My own instructions had been to assume my position and responsibility at four o'clock on Sunday afternoon. The key of the vast building, containing thousands of pounds' worth of machinery, was left for me, under the front door mat !

In undisturbed solitude I got together a paper, on which the composing staff set to work at eight. At a quarter to eight the foreman printer, immortalized, as all the details of the establishment were, in Barrie's first published novel, "When a Man's Single," entered the room.

"Good evening," said he. "I'm the fore

man printer. I pretty well run this place. I've been here, man and boy, thirty-nine years; and I've seen thirty-seven young fellows in that chair."

He was as good as his word.

He had two names for copy. There was "noos," to which he attached importance according to its local application. To be sure, he could cite Macaulay for a precedent. And there was literary matter, which he called "tripe."

Barrie's work was acutely literary, and suffered always. He, a sensitive creature, endured agony. Our autocrat had a soft place, but Barrie refused to negotiate it. For myself, I once procured the insertion of an important speech on Protection, by Henry Chaplin, by making it the introduction to the Mansfield Flower Show. So it became preference copy"!

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Barrie's contract for say, twelve pounds a month," was to supply two columns of literary matter per day. One column was to consist of a leading article, as to which general but never particular instructions were given in an eight-page, illegible letter to the writer. Barrie often remarked that he had managed to decipher everything but the religion of the senior proprietor.

One day he told me he had arrived at a conclusion on that point. A splendidly generous act of the worthy man had seemed a key to the cipher!

Barrie wrote five leaders a week; a weekly column of gossipy notes signed "Hippomenes"; a weekly essay many of these were reprinted in "My Lady Nicotine," having in their original state been infinitely beyond the vision of the average reader of the Nottingham Journal- and book reviews, carefully measured with a tape, to fill up twelve columns per week.

The Saturday leader was for years written by a local accountant, of immense erudition and amazing views. Barrie used to fling the Saturday paper from him with disgust.

Barrie in those early days had an intense consciousness of his importance. It was not vanity. He hated his surroundings, and always knew his superiority. The newspaper men of the town had a little club, meeting in

a tavern, called the Kettle. I sought it a while ago; but it is gone. Barrie went once or twice, but was frankly disgusted. One of its members is a well-known barrister now; another samples fiction for a firm outpouring penny novelettes; another is the headmaster of a public school; another became, indiscriminately, a fascinating writer about Parliament and an exigent judge of bulldogs.

Barrie's first play was written on approval for Minnie Palmer. It was called "Polly's Dilemma"; at any rate, the heroine was Polly, and it was printed as a Christmas number detail of the Journal, so that we might horrow the type to make it into a booklet, and so try to sell it. His first fiction was published in Bow Bells - twenty thousand words of succulent sentiment, for which he got three guineas. He bought some desired print with the money, and pasted the story on the back as indicating its fons et origo.

His lonely rooms backed on the garden of my home. My sweet mother, in her expansive kindness, would signal to him that there was tea going-midland counties tea. There was once an impossible interval, and he made amends with a copy of "David Elginbrod," inscribed: "To the face at the window. He cometh not, she said." Dear soul ! She specialized on forlorn journalists. There is a millionaire newspaper man of to-day for whom she had no more to say than You poor, neglected thing! Just turn out all your socks." And darned them.

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Barrie of those days fancied himself as an actor. He would on the slightest provocation give an imitation of Irving as Romeo, and Modjeska as Juliet. In his "Rosalind" I recognize an encounter with a wellknown actress of that day, Marie de Grey. His rooms were curiously devoid of books. There was a Horace, that very Horace denuded of its fly-leaves; and there was BartIf lett's Familiar Quotations." ever he were tempted to use a quotation he turned to Bartlett, and if it were among the Familiar, out it went.

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He was the most shy, the most painfully sensitive creature. He drank nothing. And he assured me that after a most conscien

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