remarkable essay of Pope and Arbuthnot, "Martinus Scriblerus peri Bathous." I fancy that this is but little known in America, - why, I cannot see, for it would repay any one's reading it many times, for its wit and metaphysical sublety. Edward Sterling.

SAN FRANCISCO, Calif.

BOOK REVIEWS.

DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT; OR, LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF NEW YORK LIFE. By Mrs. Helen Campbell, with an introduction by Rev. Lyman Abbott, D.D. Supplemented by chapters by Colonel Thomas W. Knox and Inspector Thomas Byrnes. Illustrated with 250 engravings from flash-light photographs. 740 pp. Cloth, $3.25. Hartford, Conn. : A. D. Worthington & Co. 1892.

The aim of this remarkable book, as described in the preface, is "to give scrupulously exact descriptions of life and scenes in the great metropolis under three different aspects: First, "As Seen by a Woman"; second, "As Seen by a Journalist"; third, "As Seen and Known by the Chief of the New York Detective Bureau." No better or more competent writers could have been secured than Mrs. Campbell, Colonel Knox, and Inspector Byrnes. The result of their work is a book of startling interest, sensational, graphic, and in every way true to life, describing in vivid language "the other side" of the great city of New York, picturing life by day and night in tenement houses, missions, underground resorts, haunts of criminals and training schools of crime, and in nooks and corners known only to the police among outsiders, and rarely visited by any one else. The dark side of life is presented without any attempt to tone it down, and foul places are described just as they exist. Yet, so cleanly is the book written, that no one can think of it for a moment as pandering to a prurient curiosity. Its moral purpose is high and pure, and it shows at once the necessity and the benefits of philanthropic and Christian work among the people of the slums.

Graphic and vivid as the text is, however, it is secondary in interest to the illustrations. No more remarkable pictures have ever been published than those which are scattered so profusely through the pages of this book. They are not imaginative sketches. The engravings are made from photographs, taken often at midnight by flash-light in underground dens where the lives of those who made them were in danger, and depicting slum-life in New York, not as an artist might imagine it to be, but as it actually is. The fascinating interest of these pictures cannot be described. They tell their story to every one who looks at them, and they tell it without exaggeration, with an accuracy that cannot be impeached.

Altogether, "Darkness and Daylight in New York" is a book that appeals to every one, and a book that wherever it is seen must excite admiration and surprise. The publishers have accomplished a remarkable work. The volume, which is sold by subscription, is a sumptuous one, and, unlike many subscription books, it is made with a conscience, and not merely put together in such a way as to make the most attractive show. The book is worth its price in all respects; for the ordinary reader it will have a fascinating interest, and as an addition to the literature of sociology, it is a most important work.

W. H. H.

HELPFUL HINTS AND SUGGESTIONS.

[Under this heading it is intended to describe any handy little contrivance that may be of use in any way to literary workers. Facts about home-made devices particularly are desired. Paid descriptions of patented articles will not be printed here on any terms; but this shall not hinder any one from letting others know gratuitously about any invention that is of more than ordinary value to literary workers. Readers of THE WRITER are urged to tell for the benefit of other readers what little schemes they may have devised or used to make their work easier or better. By a free exchange of personal experiences every one will be helped, and, no matter how simple a useful idea is, it is an advantage that every one should know about it. Generally, the simpler the device, the greater is its value ]

Ironing Manuscript. After the iron has entered your soul, try it on your manuscript. In other words, when an unappreciative editor has returned your contribution with the paper creased by folding so that it has a worn and weary look, take it to the kitchen, get Mary to give you a hot flatiron, and iron the offending creases out. Then send the manuscript out again. You will need to have enough iron in your blood to stand rejections cheerfully if you are going to pick plums from the top of the dizzy ladder of literary fame. BOSTON, Mass.

H.

Finding the Page. I lately made the discovery that by tearing a bit off one corner of my note-book, I could put my thumb nail on the corner of the first page on which I wanted to write, and open to it at once without fingering to separate that page and the cover. It followed as a corollary that when the first page was written full, the exposed corner of that page could be torn off in the same manner, and the second page opened to with equal readinessand so on. I think this idea may be found use

ful where one turns several times to one page before writing on the next, as on note-books, account books, etc. A gentleman to whom I explained the idea suggested that books might be made with perforations across one corner, so that the tear might be easier and neater. Pleased with this amendment, I proposed that we be equal partners in the ownership and exploitation of our joint invention. He replied, "All right, and I give you my half." I give the public my half, and his, too especially his.

REPORTING WITH MARK TWAIN. Dan de Quille. Californian (25 c.) for July.

ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY. With Portrait. Ruth Ashmore. Ladies' Home Journal ( 10 c.) for July.

THE WOMEN WRITERS OF TEXAS. Galveston News for June 18.

HOW MAGAZINE EDITORS HANDLE MANUSCRIPTS. S. H. Coon. Boston Advertiser for May 29.

DAVID M. STONE'S REMINISCENCES. New York Herald for June 18.

ALPHONSE DAUDET AT HOME. Robert H. Sherard. Pittsburg Leader, Chicago Times for June 11; St. Paul PioneerPress for June 12.

MRS. MARY A. LIVERMORE. Journal for June 17.

With Portrait. Woman's

JULES VERNE'S HOME. Robert H. Sherard. Denver Republican, Toledo Commercial for June 25.

WALTER BESANT INTERVIEWED. Foster Coates. St. Louis Republic for June 18.

AN AFTERNOON WITH DR. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. Edward Everett Hale. McClure's Magazine (15 c.) for July. WORKING UNDER DICKENS. G. A. Sala. Reprinted from London Telegraph in St. Louis Globe-Democrat for June 18. "PANSY" (Mrs. Isabella M. Alden.) Adelaide Samson. New York Observer for June 8.

M. BARTHELEMY SAINT HILAIRE. New York Tribune for June 4.

GOLDWIN SMITH. Boston Herald for June 3.

MRS. FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT'S WASHINGTON HOME. Seattle Post Intelligencer for June 4.

CHARLES GOUNOD AT HOME. M. de. S. New York Sun for June 11.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. Edward Everett Hale. Boston Commonwealth for June 3.

LITERARY COINCIDENCES. New York Advertiser for June 4. FAMOUS NEWSPAPER HOAXES. New York Sunday News for June 4.

CHICAGO NEWSPAPERS. Chicago Evening Journal for June 3.

NEWS AND NOTES.

The New England Magazine with the current July issue passes into the hands of Warren F. Kellogg, who has purchased the assets of the old company and will continue the publication of the magazine from its new offices at 5 Park square, Boston. Edwin D. Mead and Walter Blackburn Harte will continue their connection with the magazine.

The name of the Christian Union has been changed to the Outlook.

The price of the Cosmopolitan has been reduced to twelve and one-half cents a copy. The size and quality of the magazine will remain unchanged.

The juvenile magazine, Wide Awake, published by the D. Lothrop Company, has been merged with St. Nicholas.

Youth is the name of a new juvenile weekly just started in New York, each number of which will have four pages of pictures in colors, and illustrated articles by good writers.

The August number of Short Stories will contain the announcement of several prizes offered for original tales, as follows: For a story of about 4,000 words, with Chicago and the World's Fair as a setting, $50; for the best story of between 3,000 and 5,000 words, without other restriction, $50; and, in anticipation of the coming winter, prizes of $50 and $25 for the first and second awards in a competition for Christmas tales.

Walter Besant reached New York June 17, on his way to the literary conference at Chicago, July 10-17.

George Meredith is at work on a book called "The Journalist," in which Mr. Stead, of the Review of Reviews, and Frederick Greenwood are said to figure.

Professor Howard N. Ogden, of the University of West Virginia, has in preparation "The Literature of the Virginians," in two volumes. More than 200 Virginian writers are included in the work.

Blanche Willis Howard has organized an American Literary Society in Berlin.

Miss Olive Schreiner, the young author of the "Story of an African Farm," is a little woman, with short curly hair, and a clear pale complexion. She is now in England superintending the publication of a new novel.

"The Story of My Life," by Dr. Georg Ebers, is announced by D. Appleton & Co.

Another volume of Madison J. Cawein's poems will be brought out in the fall by G. P. Putnam's Sons, under the title of "Poems of Nature and Love." The poems of this volume have been selected from two earlier volumes published in Louisville several years ago, the same poems which Mr. Howells praised so enthusiastically in Harper's Magazine. All of the poems have been retouched considerably, and several of them have been wholly rewritten, among the latter being "Accolon of Gaul."

George Meredith has been elected president of the London Society of Authors.

Lee & Shepard have nearly ready "The Builders of American Literature," by F. H. Underwood. The first volume contains short and carefully studied notices of leading authors, from Jonathan Edwards down to Richard H. Stoddard. It ends with authors born in 1825. The next volume will take up the long list from that year to the present time.

The Quarterly Register of Current History, hitherto published at Detroit, has been purchased by Garrettson, Cox, & Co., 357 Seventh street, Buffalo. The editorial management will remain with Dr. Alfred S. Johnson, and the distinctive features will be preserved, the name being changed to Cyclopedic Review of Current History.

Arlo Bates, the Boston novelist, has been elected professor of English literature in the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Mr. Bates is not only a writer of books, but an experienced journalist as well, having been editor of the Boston Courier for several years.

Happenchance, which is described as “a magazine by amateurs for amateurs," and is published at Mamaroneck, has for one of its aims the printing of manuscripts which have been rejected by publishers. The young poets of France are happy in the possession of La Plume, a magazine specially devoted to the publication of their ambitious efforts.

The Critic's "Lounger" says that he (or she) knows "a man who married a woman believing her to be Saxe Holme, and, though he has been married a number of years, he believes so still," and the "Lounger's" note implies that this man resides in a sort of fool's paradise. The "Lounger "was in the secret of the authorship of the Saxe Holme stories from the start, and heard them talked over between the author and publisher before they were printed.

Dr. Edward Eggleston is at work upon a new novel, the first he has written for some time. He works about three hours every morning.

Mrs. Deland has finished a new novel, and, under the title of "Philip and His Wife," it is to be published serially in the Atlantic Monthly.

Mrs. Robert Reid tells the literary editor of the Montreal Gazette that the author of "Geraldine: A Souvenir of the St. Lawrence," is A. A. Hopkins, of Harriman, East Tennessee, editor of the Weekly Advance. The same authority says: "The author is a clever musician, as well The heroine is a lady of as a physician. Albany, N. Y."

W. Clark Russell says in Scribner's for July that he went to sea when he was thirteen and a few months, and followed the calling for nearly eight years, so that he claims knowledge of it on every merit of service and suffering.

Edward Lyman Bill, editor and proprietor of the Music Trade Review, New York, has purchased the Keynote, an important musical monthly, founded by Frederick Archer. The scope of the paper will be greatly enlarged, and it will be essentially a home paper, devoted to art, music, drama, and literature. The first number under the new proprietorship, that for July, is presented in an enlarged and improved form. The offices of publication will be at 3 East 14th street, New York.

VOL. VI.

No. 8.

ENTERED AT THE BOSTON POST-OFFICE AS SECOND-CLASS MAIL MATTER.

[Taken from the diary of a young and enterprising author.]

"During the morning service I sat where I could see the choir, and I was particularly attracted by a fan in the hands of the contralto. It was pale brown — well, that does n't seem to hit the color exactly - it was something pale, anyhow, and I'll swear it was n't fawn-color. Its interest in my eyes was its perfect plainness, no unusual birds or rare flowers on the satin, no ornament or carving on the sticks.

"Now, if you've any sympathy in you, you'll understand the suggestiveness of an expanse of -pale-colored-satin to one who always thinks of triolets at sight of a blank slip of paper.

Here, I am sorry to say, I lost the thread of the sermon, and began to festoon a story around that fan. The contralto didn't go in as heroine, because there are limitations to one's imagination in the case of an actual girl. No, the heroine was three shades fairer than the contralto, and six inches taller - they're always tall in my stories. She would have soft gray eyes, and wear pale gray, I thought (the fan insisted on surrounding itself with pale colors), and she would be sweet-mannered and friendly to—say, a poor protégé of her wealthy father's, a struggling artist (I knew that was unoriginal, but I promised myself to make his hair short, and to refuse to give him a velvet coat). They would have been brought up together — not all the time, but just enough together to make it piquant. Then they would both come back to the old home after completing their respective educations, and then I'd bring in the sweet, grave friendliness, in the garden plucking roses, or on the back veranda shelling peas, in a cool pink morning-dress and blue flannel blazer, respectively.

"Just here, I would introduce the incident I'd been working up to. One day she would show him a fan she had bought, 'to go with my gown for the party next Thursday,' and being a plain fan, - gray, I thought, since I did n't want to waste a page describing the other color,- it would suggest decoration to his artist soul, and he would mention it to her, and she would take up the offer with pretty graciousness — 'Yes, and when you are a great painter, I shall have a famous souvenir; and when I am an old woman, I shall write a picturesque article about it, with

illustrations, for a high-class magazine.' So they go upstairs to his studio, and she stands in the window overlooking the garden, while he gets out his brushes, and she wanders around the room, and watches him at work, and asks such innocent yet intelligent questions about the technique of his art. And he will say doing something artistically characteristic the while (must get the local color from Kanvaspoyler)-'Suppose Fame kicks me out of her way, and I am never any greater than now, then I shall merely have spoiled your fan.' 'As if you could spoil it,'-no, that's rather too artless and heedless for the sweet, grave, slow-spoken girl. She would say something clannish, and gracious, and encouragingartistically in answer. I must think that

over.

"I broke off here, and went home. After dinner I began to think of writing. Our boarding-house is n't perfection, and any literary effort on the part of any one therein is usually preceded by a long and enthusiastic search for the inkstand. I avoided this by retiring at once to my room, where the hunt for wherewithal to record elevated sentiments is not usually lengthy. I fished out some paper and sharpened a lead pencil, and sat down to write. The story would n't crystallize

properly, so I lit a pipe, put my feet on the bureau among the other bric-a-brac, and thought it over. There was no need for haste, I thought, as I watched the gray-clad girl floating on the smoke-wreaths. The story would take shape in time.

"That evening I went to church again, and again sat near the choir. When the contralto sat down after the anthem and opened her fan, I experienced a sudden sensation of cold-for there was a delicate spray of daisies painted on it. For one badly-tangled moment I felt responsible for their presence there, and thought uneasily that the contralto would be annoyed, for she was a sober-clad, serious-looking little person. Then I recovered the use of such intelligence as Providence had vouchsafed to me, and, noting that the sticks also were decorated with gold tracing, I realized that the contralto had two sides to her fan, and that she had held the wrong side toward me in the morning. But my story was gone - vanished out of reach

nothing left of it but a gray memory, tangled up with a sense of injustice and disappointment. "It is a case in which the law offers no redress, I well know, owes me a story." TORONTO, Ont.

but that girl in the choir Katharine L. Johnston.

System in Novel Writing. Anthony Trollope was the most systematic of all the English novelists. Sitting down at his desk, he would take out his watch and time himself. His system is well known, but a singular explanation of his fertility may be quoted: "When I have commenced a new book," he says, "I have always prepared a diary divided into weeks, and carried it on for the period which I have allowed myself for the completion of the work. In this I have entered day by day the number of pages I have written, so that if at any time I have slipped into idleness for a

day or two, the record of that idleness has been there staring me in the face and demanding of me increased labor, so that the deficiency might be supplied. According to the circumstances of the time, whether any other business might be then heavy or light, or whether the book which I was writing was or was not wanted with speed, I have allotted myself so many pages a week. The average number has been about forty. It has been placed as low as twenty and has risen to one hundred and twelve. And as a page is an ambiguous term, my page has been made to contain two hundred