"The so-called 'war-scare' probably has no special significance for the railroads except in a few individual cases. Generally. speaking the railroads will suffer severely from its effects, just as every other interest will-no more and no less. For a long time the weaker roads have not been able to get much money from abroad; while the strong roads which have in the past year made new loans in foreign markets are in no pressing need of money. Therefore, the annihilation of foreign credit does not affect the railroads especially. Those which have had that credit recently can get along without it for a while. . . It is quite possible that some of the great reorganizations now on hand will be seriously delayed. The chances for a fair market for new bond issues have been immensely diminished, and the power and the will of security-holders to pay assessments have probably been diminished in equal degree. This strikes us as perhaps the only special feature of importance in the present situation in its relation to the railroads; but that they will, in common with the farmers and the manufacturers, suffer severely in income can hardly be doubted." The American Wool and Cotton Reporter, Boston, thinks that few people realize how great the distrust of this country has been and is among foreign investors. "When the one man," it says, "to whom foreign investors have pinned their faith resorts to the methods of the politician, foreign investors can not be blamed if they shut their pocketbooks tighter than ever in the face of Americans with securities to sell." The Dry-Goods Economist, New York, asserts that these United States have grown great and prosperous by minding their own business, and that "when a dispute is too obscure for the average American layman to comprehend, when its seat is remote in space and even more remote from the life of this people, when there is no unanimity among authorities as to its merits, such a controversy can never furnish sufficient justification for the American official who suggests war." "The only war that Mr. Cleveland can engender," says the St. Louis Grocer, "is a war led by the bankers of Wall Street against the commercial and agricultural interests of this country. In that war Mr. Cleveland has the position of Commander-inChief. This is evidenced by his second message on the financial question. The people are no more prone to go to war than they are to elect Mr. Cleveland to a third term." The American Grocer, New York, asks: "If all South America were England's would not the trade and commerce of this country with that section be immensely extended? Would not Great Britain as a neighbor be more of a guaranty for peace than to have it split up into many governments, some of which have shown great antipathy to this country?" It concludes, however, that these questions are not involved in the Venezuela matter, "so it is best to keep cool, let the musket rest, and pity the extremity of a discredited Administration which drives it into startling bit of jingoism with a view of galvanizing it into new life. As a political move to put Republican jingoes in a hole, it must be considered a brilliant flank movement; but as a judicial and conservative treatment of possible complications growing out of possible unfriendly relations between two foreign countries, it is a failure apt to provoke international complications." A Canadian journal, Hardware and Metal, Toronto, assures us that Great Britain could blockade every seaport in the United States, cut off 59 per cent. of our export and 31 per cent. of our import trade, by so much curtailing our inland traffic also, to say nothing of the loss of British capital that would necessarily be withdrawn in the event of hostilities. This Canadian journal concludes that "the more one considers the frightful loss commercially that a war with Great Britain would entail, the less probable does war appear to be, for Uncle Sam is, at least, guided as much by dollars as by patriotism, Providence, or anything else." The Shipping World, London, is outspoken for arbitration of the controversy. It says: The Monroe doctrine is referred to, but we never see it in operation. We care nothing in this crisis about political pretensions, even those of the first magnitude, involved in the American policy; but we care everything for the principle of arbitration as a substitute for war in the settlement of international disputes. We have escaped a conflict of arms until now because Venezuela is too small to fight. If our cause is a fair one we have nothing to fear from arbitration. If we have behaved in a grasping and an arbitrary way and have presumed upon our strength to set justice aside, we ought to be stopped in our unrighteous career. "We scarcely know where to turn-in Parliament or out of itexcepting to the ranks of a gallant band of Quakers in the country, for a man who is prepared to fight for peace. And we can not help sighing, 'Oh, for one solid hour of John Bright!"" as The Independent (Ùndenom.), New York, is sure that we are too far advanced in Christian civilization to think of war as the solution of the difficulty, to dethrone reason that has been cultivated for centuries for an appeal to the sword. "We are not beyond the province of diplomacy," it urges; "it is moral cowardice not to persist in peaceful negotiations." England bas opportunity to come out of the affair with honor, The Independent thinks, by yet trying to arrange the difficulty amicably with Venezuela; for the hotheads on both sides of the Atlantic who are conjuring up the specter of war," let them be treated as "chattering magpies." The Outlook (Undenom.), New York, says that we want a new American policy; something original, inspiring, Christian; and we are in a position to establish it. "Our strength is commanding, and will soon be overwhelming; our courage has never been questioned. We are in the position to render a greater service to humanity than we have ever yet rendered'; we can revolutionize the world and ease the burden of all humanity. Our duty is to establish permanent arbitration of all disputes with England." with steadfastness. The evils of war, the ties of blood and interests which bind the people of the two nations, and the need of common sense to temper excitement, are dwelt upon by many journals. Let us wait patiently for the results of investigation by a competent commissioner, advises The Christian Intelligencer (Dutch Reformed) “to learn the right and then perform it courageously and The spirit of our national Administration in this serious business deserves our confidence. There need be no fear that the firm maintenance of its position will result in war. The United Presbyterian, Pittsburg: The Christian Work (Evangelical), New York; The Methodist Recorder (Meth. Prot.), Pittsburg; The Weekly Witness (Ind. Evangelical), New York: The Christian Nation (Covenanter), New York; The Northwestern Christian Advocate (Methodist), Chicago, and others speak in the same vein, deprecating war. The Presby terian, Philadelphia, while believing that some way will be found to avoid war, still thinks it is best to be ready for it if we intend to keep back foreign encroachment upon American soil. The Evangelical Messenger, Cleveland, says: "This is no time for jingoism, but for sober thoughtfulness and intelligent patriotism. War between this country and England is inexcusable except for the gravest reasons. But the United States must resent European interference on this continent, just as Europe resents American interference across the water." REMOVING THE DISABILITIES OF CON OF FEDERATE VETERANS. F the minor incidents associated with the popular outburst of feeling over the Venezuelan matter, no action has been the subject of more apparent gratification than the bill presented by Senator D. B. Hill, repealing the law imposing military and naval disabilities on those who served in the Confederate army. The United States Senate unanimously passed the bill, and it appears to be taken for granted that the measure will soon become law. The New York Times (Dem.) calls it "an act of grace," and says: "It marks the close of the war era, and of the politics growing out of it. Any city or country editor or stump speaker who may be disposed to wave the bloody shirt and denounce the brigadiers will remember that the leaders of his own party in the Senate, even those who have themselves in times past been conspicuous in trying to revive sectional animosity, have concluded, after mature deliberation, that it is a creed out-worn and of no further use to the party." The New York Mail and Express (Rep.) in commending the bills says: "It is significant that the bill comes from the desk of a Northern Senator, and one who hails from the State that is to witness next year the greatest gathering of Federal and Confederate veterans that the country has yet seen. Such expressions are approvingly quoted by the Columbia, S. C., Register (Dem.) as an evidence that war talk is promoting patriotism and obliterating the last traces of the bitterness engendered by the Civil War. It adds: "A common danger will make the men who wore the gray and the men who wore the blue forget that they fought each other and only remember that they are sons of one mother, for whose defense they will vie with each other in willingness to risk their lives and sacrifice their fortunes." The Richmond, Va., Dispatch (Dem.) says: "In our judgment such a bill should have been passed many years ago; nevertheless, we appreciate the spirit which influenced Senators who had hitherto taken a different view of the matter. They meant to show their appreciation of the heartiness with which our old soldiers have stood by the President in the pending controversy, and they meant to express their conviction that in the controversy in which our country is now engaged none will be found truer to the old flag than those who fought the hardest for Southern independence. Of course, we can not but be grateful to the Senate." The Kansas City, Mo., Times (Dem.) refers to these Confederate veterans as men who "lost everything they had but their swords and their honor," who "have endured all the ills that could befall a conquered people," and who "have seen their good names filched from them by dishonest historians," claiming that "as a matter of fact, the Southern veterans might well demand the repeal of the odious law aimed at by Senator Hill's bill as a matter of justice and right, and not merely of magnanimity. They have one and all been recognized as free American citizens, full-fledged and held responsible for the performance of all the duties of citizenship, and it is but simple justice that they should exercise the rights of a citizen in time of war, as well as in time of peace. That is, unless all that has passed, from the probationary days of reconstruction to these piping times of reconciliation, peace, and good-will, has been a vain thing, full of hypocrisy and deceit." The North American (Rep.), Philadelphia, says: "It has been well said that affliction unites all families in a common bond of grief, and the danger of a war between the United States and England, however slight that may be, seems to have been the means of wiping out the last line which separated the sections and uniting the entire country for our mutual honor and defense. There is a peculiar appropriateness about the passage of this repealer at this season of the year, and great significance is added to it by the fact that it was adopted without a dissenting vote in a Senate having a Republican plurality. The War of the Rebellion is now surely over, and a united people stands ready to shed the last drop of blood in the defense of the national honor and safety.". American Land Speculation in Venezuela.- The Journal of Commerce, New York, and other newspapers have been tracing alleged connections between the recent Venezuelan message and a real estate spéculation in Venezuela by Americans. They find that Venezuela has granted great tracts of the rich land in dispute to American citizens, the most valuable one being granted in April of this year to a syndicate called "The Manoa Company." The Minneapolis Times quotes President J. A. Bowman of the company as saying that he had been asked to guide the commissioners to be appointed through the disputed territory, and that the Schomburgk line ran through the grant of the Manoa Company. "The Manoa Company, operating at the mouth of the Orinoco," said he, "was formed under the laws of the State of New York. The grant was first secured from the Venezuelan Government in 1883 by C. C. Fitzgerald. Then the Manoa Company, Limited, was formed in 1885. It was organized under the laws of the United States, and after the grant was given and the papers were properly fixed up in South America, they were brought to Washington and filed with the Secretary of State. The members of the company are nearly all citizens of the United States, and they have, not renounced their loyalty. Therefore this Government is bound to protect us whether there is a Monroe doctrine or not. But of course the important duty in connection with European aggression is contained in the principles of the Monroe doctrine." The New York Evening Post intimates that responsible parties, whose names do not appear, are backing up the Manoa Company, which has recently been reorganized, and that in spite of the agreement of 1850 between Great Britain and Venezuela not to occupy nor to usurp the disputed territory Venezuela issued a grant or concession of it to an American company for the obvious purpose of embroiling the United States in the dispute. The Boston Herald says: "If it should turn out that the indignation expressed at England's land-grabbing proclivities was simply aroused because it interfered with certain landgrabbing schemes of our own, even jingoism would be deprived of some of its merits, and the whole matter be reduced to the level of an exceedingly selfish quarrel." TOPICS IN BRIEF. A GREAT international sermon might be preached on the text, "Thou shalt not steal."-The Recorder, New York. THERE are 233 lawyers in Congress, and yet it is predicted that the present will be a business session.-The Ledger, Philadelphia. Is it Hitt or miss?-The Transcript, Boston. THERE wasn't a third term even for Monroe.-The Leader, Cleveland. GREAT BRITAIN is not satisfied with getting a large share of this country's gold, but demands South America's before it has been mined.-The Star, Washington. ONE good result has already been produced by this Venezuelan question. It has unmasked the Mugwumps. Everybody can see now that they are our Tories of the present day.-The Sun, New York. THE East is inclined to take care of its stocks; the West is ready to fight, by jingo, it is.--The State Register, Des Moines, Iowa. IT is not thought there ever will be a woman's edition of the Congressionsional Record. The Press, New York, LETTERS AND ART. HOW SHAKESPEARE DREW ON ITALIAN A AUTHORS. DETAILED examination of the amount of debt that Shakespeare owed to the Italian novelists, directly or indirectly, as far as the plots of his dramas are concerned, is presented by Mr. C. Flamstead Walters in The Gentlemen's Magazine for December. It has long been known that Shakespeare and other Elizabethan dramatists generously used the literary materials that they found to hand, arranging, adding, adapting as they choose, plagiarizing to their hearts' content, and justifying their predatory excursions by recreating their spoils into glorious literature. Mr. Walters says that the plays of Shakespeare based on Italian novels are "Cymbeline," from Boccaccio's "Decameron;" "All's Well that Ends Well," from the same; "Merchant of Venice," and "Merry Wives of Windsor," from Fiorentino's "Pecorone;" "Measure for Measure" and "Othello," from Giraldi's "Ecatommiti;" "Romeo and Juliet" and "Much Ado About Nothing," from Bandello; and "Two Gentlemen of Verona" and "Twelfth Night," from a single story of the same. It may be interesting for such readers as are not familiar with the Italian literature in question to follow the details of one of the stories utilized by Shakespeare. Giraldi (or Cintio as he is also called), a gentleman of Ferrara, lived from 1504 to 1573. In his "Ecatommiti," a collection of one hundred stories, we have the original of "Othello," which Mr. Walters condenses as follows: “Attracted by the valor of a Moor, who was much honored by the Venetian Republic, a woman of gentle birth and great beauty named Disdemona, loved and married him much against her kinsmen's wishes. Soon afterward he is appointed to the command of the Venetian troops at Cyprus, whither he is accompanied by his faithful wife, who chooses to brave the dangers of the sea rather than be separated from her husband. In the Moor's company was an ensign ('Ancient') of the vilest character, but so perfect a hypocrite that he deceived his commander, who had a high opinion of him. His wife, being Italian, naturally became Disdemona's dearest friend in her exile. The ensign entertains a criminal passion for the Moor's wife, but finding no response in her chaste bosom he concludes she must have another lover in the person of the brigadier, much honored by the Moor; he therefore determined to remove this officer and work Disdemona's ruin also. Fortune favors him, and from this time forward poor Disdemona is helpless in the hands of fate. Having made his resolution, the ensign, the prototype of Iago, soon found opportunities. The brigadier was temporarily disgraced for striking a soldier when on guard. Disdemona pleaded for his restoration to favor, and the Moor told the ensign that he would have to yield soon to her petitioning. This gave the ensign the chance he had sought of instilling the poison of jealousy into his general's ears; and Disdemona increased his suspicions by her continued intercession. "The Moor consults the villain again, and is told still more plainly 'what he should have seen for himself,' but in threatening language declares he must have indubitable proof. 'If you do not give,' says he, 'ocular proof of what you have told me, be assured that I will make you realize that you had better been born dumb.' So the arch-plotter sets about further schemes, and when Disdemona comes to visit his wife he steals a curiously wrought handkerchief that her husband had given her; this he drops in the brigadier's room, who tried to return it to her, coming to the back door when he thought his commander was away from home. But, Fortune, as if in conspiracy with the ensign to compass the wretched woman's death,' willed that the Moor should be at home; hearing the knocking he asked who was there, on which the brigadier fled, but not without being partially recognized. All this the Moor told to the treacherous ensign, who managed soon afterward in the sight of his general to hold a conversation with the brigadier on some indifferent subject, which caused apparently great amusement to the one and surprise to the other. Then, returning to his chief, he declared that the brigadier had boasted of his amatory triumphs, and the Moor believed him. Meanwhile, Disdemona had discovered the loss of her handkerchief, and had shown signs of great confusion when her husband asked for it; she also perceived the change in her husband's demeanor toward herself, and in her trouble consulted the ensign's wife, who knew something of her husband's plots, but dared say nothing except to warn her friend against giving cause for suspicion and jealousy. But all is in vain, for while a woman in the brigadier's house is copying, as women will, the fashion of Disdemona's handkerchief, before it can be restored the traitor causes the Moor to see it, and all his suspicions are confirmed. They then arrange between them the murder, first, of the brigadier, whom the ensign besets one dark night and cuts off his leg, but has to flee before his work is done: then of the unhappy wife. The ensign is concealed in her bed-chamber, strikes her down, and then with the Moor pulls the house down, so that it appears she has perished in the ruins. Retribution soon follows; the Moor, yearning for his wife, begins to detest the ensign, and the later tells the brigadier whom he has to thank for his wooden leg, adding that the Moor had also slain his wife. Accused therefore to the Venetian lords, the general by his constancy under torture escapes with a sentence of perpetual exile, but is finally slain by Disdemona's relatives. The ensign engaging in other plots accuses a comrade; but when his story is tested by torture he is so fatally injured internally that he dies miserably. After his death his widow tells all the truth." "From this summary," says Mr. Walters, "it will be seen that Shakespeare has followed Giraldi very closely. Iago's motives are rather different, and Cassio was known to Desdemona before marriage; Roderigo is added, and more made of Iago's wife, Aemilia. Shakespeare also has given names to the characters, but has not changed their features essentially, and has brought them out into stronger relief. The story is dramatic in itself, but who else could have made the 'Othello' out of it?" FLAUBERT'S CONSCIENTIOUSNESS WHEN WRITING A BOOK. THE HE "Life and Letters of Gustave Flaubert," edited by John Charles Tarver, heretofore noticed in these columns, continues to receive special critical attention. The December Fortnightly contains a long article on the subject, by Mr. Ernest,Newman, from which we extract an interesting paragraph concerning the extreme conscientiousness with which Flaubert worked when writing a story. We are told that Flaubert was able to console himself for "the uncleanness and stupidity of life” by regarding it under the "eclectic aspects of art:" that one of the leading features in his philosophy was his devotion to what he called "the pure idea;" that it was due to his power of generalization and abstraction that things lost their disgusting attributes, by falling into their proper places in the universal scheme, and that "antiquity fascinated him by its clearness of outline and its freedom from the distressingly immediate detail of modern life." "Happiness for men of our race," wrote Flaubert to a friend, "is in the idea, and in the idea alone. Do like me-break with the exterior." To another he wrote: "Love art. Of all falsehoods, it is the least mendacious. The idea alone is eternal and necessary." Mr. Newman here says of Flaubert: "The passion for veracity that distinguished his literary labors was, in truth, but another phase of his adoration for the pure idea. His conscientiousness, when engaged upon a book, was literally appalling. Holding, as he did, the theory that for everything that exists there is only one true expression, he spared no pains to know each existence to its inmost heart. No labor was too great for him when he was set on attaining fidelity of conception or veracity of phrase. The number of books he read for 'Salammbô,' his researches into literature and science when he was engaged upon 'Bouvard et Pécuchet,' his tours round Paris in order to render his descriptions in 'L'Education Sentimentale' accurate, were only salient examples of a patience and scrupulousness of method that extended to the smallest details. He would read medical books on poisoning in order to insure the minutest accuracy in his account of Emma Bovary's death. When he came to the wonderful chapter in 'Salammbô,' in which the imprisoned mercenaries perish slowly by hunger, we find him writing to a Vol. XII., No. 10] THE LITERARY DIGEST. (281) 11 friend for details of the physical and mental distresses that ac- medieval hunting and falconry, altho very little of his labor is A DRAMATISTS AS CRITICS. N interesting discussion has arisen in England as to whether a dramatic author can discharge the function of dramatic critic with impartiality and integrity. The debate has not been productive of much that is either new or original in the manner of presentation. Perhaps the best contribution is that of the dramatic critic of The Saturday Review, G. Bernard Shaw, who is the author of several radical plays. He answers the question under debate with an emphatic affirmative. We quote part of his argument as follows: "The advantage of having a play criticized by a critic who is also a playwright is as obvious as the advantage of having a ship criticized by a critic who is also a master shipwright. Pray observe that I do not speak of the criticism of dramas and ships by dramatists and shipwrights who are not also critics; for that would be no more convincing than the criticism of acting by actors. Dramatic authorship no more constitutes a man a critic than actorship constitutes him a dramatic author; but a dramatic critic learns as much from having been a dramatic author as Shakespeare or Mr. Pinero from having been actors. The average London critic, for want of practical experience, has no real confidence in himself: he is always searching for an imaginary 'right' opinion, with which he never dares to identify his own. Consequently every public man finds that as far as the press is concerned his career divides itself into two parts: the first, during which the critics are afraid to praise him; and the second, during which they are afraid to do anything else. critic is uncomfortably trying to find faults enough to make out a case for his timid coldness: in the second, he is eagerly picking out excellences to justify his eulogies. And of course he blunders equally in both phases. The faults he finds are either inessential or are positive reforms, or he blames the wrong people for them: the triumphs of acting which he announces are stage tricks that any old hand could play. ་་ In the first the "Compare the genuine excitement of Mr. Clement Scott, or the almost Calvinistic seriousness of Mr. William Archer, with the gaily easy what-does-it-matterness of Mr. Walkley, and you see at once how the two critic-dramatists influence the drama, while the critic-playgoer only makes it a pretext for entertaining his readers. On the whole there is only as much validity in the theory that a critic should not be a dramatist, as in the theory that a judge should not be a lawyer nor a general a soldier. can not have qualifications without experience, and you can not have experience without personal interest and bias. That may not be an ideal arrangement, but it is the way the world is built, and we must make the best of it." You No other painter has a home of such artistic luxuriousness as AlmaTadema. Perhaps its most remarkable feature is the wall, which is panton, Boughton, Sargent, Calderon, and a full score of the artist's friends have is the oak and ivory piano, on the lid of which, inside, are inscribed by their Eur hands the names of the most celebrated singers and musicians of Europe. The Argonaut. RECOLLECTIONS OF SALA. T is known that George Augustus Sala was essentially a Bohemian of the old school as it existed in his early days, and so he remained to the last. Altho he no longer lived the erratic life of his youth, and went into good society and enjoyed doing so; altho he no longer resided in humble lodgings, but in costly flats and seaside mansions, he was still the jovial, careless, unconventional free-lance that he had always been. It is said that his conversation was even strongly flavored with the old Bohemian tone, and he loved nothing so much as to recall the bygone days when he foregathered with other brilliant men of the pen in the haunts of Fleet Street and the Haymarket, in oystershops, and in the minor literary clubs. Recalling these facts, "A Friend and Colleague," writing for The Westminster Gazette, gives some facts and anecdotes, from which we extract the following: a matter of fact it was done by "Sala's powers of conversation when he was in the vein were fascinating, and he was a brilliant after-dinner speaker. He could not argue, but he could narrate; he could not build up an oration, but he could gossip delightfully. He had a pleasing, somewhat high voice, which gave great effect to his "good things,' and there was always a twinkle in his one serviceable eye which showed his enjoyment of his own drolleries. Here are a few recollections which I string together at random, and which I think curiously illustrate his character. I met him one day, when a personal sketch of him had just appeared in a popular periodical, and asked him what he thought of it. 'Oh,' replied Sala, 'I don't care what they say of me so long as they say nothing about my red nose and my white waistcoat.' I asked him whether the article was written by 'No,' he said, no. As I expressed some surprise at this, as the writer he had named had become very rich, or, at least, had married into a very wealthy family, and I thought he had severed his connection with the press. 'No,' said Sala; 'he writes sometimes, when he is tired of playing with millions.' In the passionate correspondence he once had with a friend there was far more humor than gall. His antagonist had accused him of plagiarism. 'I steal from you, you villain?' wrote Sala. 'Why, it would be as bad as robbing Judas of his thirty bob!' It was not long after this that the two men became good friends again, and Sala was heard to speak of his adversary in terms of affection. Indeed, he would quarrel with a friend one day and greet him with perfect cheerfulness the next, utterly ignoring their recent dispute. He was not what might be called an amiable man, but he had not an atom of spite or vindictiveness in his nature, while the kindness of his heart was shown in many ways and among the rest in acts of substantial generosity. "Sala was a great authority on matters of cookery, and he practised what he preached. Tho no gourmand himself, he kept a table famous among his friends for the exquisite art of its cuisine. But when he had company to dinner, he often sat apart at a small table of his own. He was, however, very hospitable, but preferred to give little dinners rather than gather large numbers of friends round his board. Occasionally he received on a more extensive scale, and at the last reception he held in his elegant flat in Victoria Street there passed through his rooms some two or three hundred of the most distinguished men and women of the day in every social sphere and branch of fine art, hardly a single person present bearing a name that was not familiar to the public. Sala had a full sense of the value of his work, but could not be called a vain man. He was known to make very candid admissions about himself and his own abilities. 'My mind is a catalog,' he once observed, and again, 'I have a congenital propensity for making blunders. His success was due, no doubt, to the assiduity with which he applied himself to the work for which he was best fitted, the accumulation of facts and the setting forth of them in an attractive manner. Of original or imaginative capacity he had little, and he admitted it, and then he rarely went out of his depth and made an absolute literary failure. He was a most industrious and systematic worker, having hours for labor and hours for leisure as regular as those of any banker or merchant. Until within the last few years he wrote his own MS. in that exquisite neat hand which, however, became at last not so easy to read, in parts, as it looked; but recently he acquired the habit of dictating, and later still actually submitted to that which for long he regarded as an abominationthe use of a typewriter." IS A SCHOOL OF LITERARY ART feasible? THE department of "Life and Letters" of Harper's Weekly has received a letter which seems to Mr. Howells to be possessed of such general interest that he confides it to the public. The writer of it asks why we can not have a school of literary art. He finds that there are schools for almost everything but literature, and he is disposed to question the finality of the theory that if it is in you you will write, and if it is not in you you will not write. He owns that there would be difficulties in the way of teaching authorship, but he believes that they would not prove insurmountable, and he boldly asks why it should not be tried. Mr. Howells, in answering the inquiry, agrees with Mr. Andrew Lang (see LITERARY DIGEST, vol. xii., p. 110) that literary construction can not be taught. He says: "The best teaching of literature so far is largely on the critical side, and not on the constructive side; and constructive teaching is what my correspondent means. He has in mind, I fancy, some such effect in literature as comes in painting or sculpture or architecture from the student's effort under the eye of the master, who looks two or three times a week at what he has done, and passes in silence, or says, 'Good,' or 'Not bad,' or perhaps sits down and bestows a touch of correction or suggestion on the work. This, or the like of it, would not be impossible; I have thought of such a scheme of literary instruction myself; but I have recognized that the most vital part of the instruction in the universities is already upon these lines; and I have felt that to carry it farther would in the nature of things be immensely difficult. It is easy enough to say to the literary student that his style is slovenly, that his sentences are clumsy, and his diction is uncouth, or the reverse, and to show him how and why. But to take up a bit of his work and teach him how it is false or true to life, and prove to him how he has followed or forsaken nature, would be a task almost hopeless. I do not say it could not be done; it is already attempted, whenever honest criticism is written, and no doubt it would be well if it could be done before the student's work reaches the public. Much suffering would then be saved on all sides, many tears, many dollars; but I am afraid that the effect would still not be that which follows with the other arts. Form might be taught, the outer form; the student might be made to see that this was good or bad in what he had done; but the inner symmetry or deformity which it represented, that could never be inculcated. Of course this is measurably true of all the arts, but of literature, the subtlest, the most recondite, the most intimate, it is immeasurably true. In this respect it never can be taught, it can only be recognized, and yet in this it is most precious. The other arts imitate the outside of life, or the inside as it seeks the surface; but literature imitates the inside not only as it seeks the surface, but as it shuns the surface. They can be taught, there can be schools for them; but for it, in its deepest and highest office, there can be no school. There can be only the worship of truth in the silence and solitude of the soul, and the effect of that." Besides all this, says Mr. Howells, to have the best result even in the matter of style, construction, and superficial form, a master of the art would be needed, and the whole time of a master. This thought is semi-humorously elaborated, as follows: "A great painter may pass through a room full of students, and despatch the business of criticism or instruction in an hour, but a great author could not do this. Suppose he had set fifty or sixty young writers treating the well-known passion of love in a short story of three or four thousand words, which is the favorite magazine length. Then he would have the material of an ordinary duodecimo novel to read, and if he read faithfully and considered carefully it would have cost him a week's work to go through the lot. He might let the students, read their work to him, and such is the weakness of human nature, they would be glad to do so; but on the whole I do not see how very much time would be saved in that way. It might even take longer to listen to the stories; a great author's time must be paid for, and, as I understand from recent expressions on the subject, authors differ very much from other people in our competitive conditions in trying to get all they can for their work. I am afraid indeed that they have become rather notoriously rapacious, and I doubt whether they would be willing to give their time to a school of literature as great painters give their time to a school of art; per haps because they would have to give so much more of it. The school of literature, then, would be a very expensive affair to conduct upon any really useful basis. There would probably have to be a professor of extended fiction, a professor of short stories, a professor of humorous paragraphing and light essays, a professor of lyric poetry and sonnetteering, a professor of incisive criticism, a professor of travel-sketches and life-studies, and several others. Estimating an output of six thousand words a week for each author giving his time to the school of literature, the reader can easily see that an equivalent compensation would be something prodigious at the present rate a thousand words. The beginners in literature, who would hope to profit by the instruction of these masters, could not possibly pay for it. The salary of any one master for a single week would bankrupt the largest class; and the only hope for the school would be a permanent foundation, from which the several professors could be paid, while a merely nominal fee was exacted from the students." DUMAS FILS JUDGED BY SOME FRENCH THE WRITERS. HERE is remarkable unanimity of opinion in Paris, as elsewhere, concerning the literary character of the late Alexandre Dumas. We append a few comments by French writers, collected by The Evening Transcript, Boston : "Dumas was a man with an extraordinary genius, the greatest, I believe, of our dramatists since Corneille, Racine, and Molière. . . . His works are something strangely rich and complex. As a dramatic author, he is realist, but with a touch of the paternal romanticism. As a thinker, he is a sociologist and a Christian moralist-Christian even to excess.”— Jules Lemaitre, in Le Journal des Débats. "Dumas's chief merit, his first title of honor, is to have opened a new path to art, whither everybody, public, managers, and authors, have followed him; it is to have accomplished a revolution. . . . He is the father of the contemporary drama. All the authors who came after him, even Augier, even Sardou, have felt, perhaps unconsciously, his influence. . . . Little of a philosopher, he was a keen observer. . . Most of his plays are still young, altho some are already fifty years old. One may infer that they will live one or two centuries, and perhaps more. But the name of Dumas shall remain immortal, linked to that of his glorious father whom he has loved so much. Francisque Sarcey, in Le Temps. "Of all the contemporary writers Alexandre Dumas has exerted the deepest influence in the sense of pity and redemption; he has spread into the people, through the theater as a tribunal, a florescence of justice, kindness, and indulgence, for the faults and weaknesses of women. He has compelled spectators to listen to reason, and to think. He is the father of the theater of conscience, art, and truth. He was a man!"-Henry Bauer, in L'Echo de Paris. 'As some of our most brilliant writers said, Alexandre Dumas was 'the illustrious man of our time.' ... Yet how many unjust reproaches have been hurled at the writings of this justice-seeking man! How many false intentions has he not been credited with! Current opinion has often accused him of immorality, he whose works all tend toward the extinction of evil. And the man who repeatedly said that he would a hundred times rather till the soil than write a word which he would not consider as the truth, has been long looked upon as an adept at paradox. But time has its justice. The very ones who did not agree with the conclusions of the author have slowly come to acknowledge the loftiness of his purpose, the strength of his arguments, and the superior quality of his logic."-Edouard Rod, in Le Gaulois. "He was, and will remain one of the most beautiful figures of our time, and if one remembers that all his works and all his life have been weighed and measured by his mind, by the weight and the standard of moral and virtue, not only will he be regretted by the men of letters, but equally by all and every one who has constantly in view the intellectual improvement of his country and of the world."-Andre Maurel, in Le Figaro. "For more than forty years he has incessantly fought for what he thought was best. He has untiringly asked for what he be lieved and what he proved to be justice. Dumas was a great littérateur, a great moralist, a great man, in the widest and the strongest sense of the word."-Jacques du Tillet, in La Revue Bleue. H. (De Men had toe den ques |