Thirteenth Century Romance

Those who have been waiting for a new story by Dr. James M. Ludlow, whose "Deborah" found a whole host of admiring readers, are to be rewarded very presently by the publication of another story that bids fair to be quite as intense and entertaining. "Sir Raoul, a Story of the Theft of an Empire," is all in the spirit of the thirteenth century, a spirit that only one saturated with mediæval history could call into being. That Dr. Ludlow is perfectly at home in this field all who know anything about him. will be able to vouch for. Yet in "Sir Raoul" it is said by those who have read the manuscript that he has not sacrificed

the story to historical fact, but has interwoven a most delightful romance.

Dr. Ludlow followed up the incidents of the story all over Europe, and in that way contrived to make them essentially realistic. With his dramatic style, the material which he has taken in hand should resolve itself into one of the good stories of the year.

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The Fleming H. Revell Company wi! follow "Duncan Polite" with another tale of Scotch Presbyterianism. Popular ScotchMr. R. E. Knowles has accomCanadian plished in a first novel, entiStories tled "St. Cuthbert's," an excellent study of Scotch Canadian charac

A propos of Mr. Tarking1on Stories

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Mr. Booth Tarkington is quite willing to have his readers know that the incident of the man with the advertisement of a French Cafe printed on his bald head, an incident that plays a prominent part in his novelette, "The Beautiful Lady," actually came under his own observation while he was in Paris last summer. Mr. Tarkington certainly deserves praise for the facility with which he has turned the little scene to account; the story is one of the most tenderly pathetic and artistically finished that we have lately read.

By the way, though, something of disappointment is in store for those who have yet to read the second installment of "The Conquest of Caanan," Mr. Tarkington's new serial in "Harper's." It may be that this portion of the story will be compensated for by what is to follow. The possibilities for a good tale are certainly there. if they can be properly realized. question is whose fortunes are we to follow, Ariel's or Joe's? Both characters are excellently conceived-that of the girl suffers considerably from being over-drawn in the episode of the partv. Our experience with Mr. Tarkington's work leads us to apprehend danger in his

The

The late George Gissing

One of the most interesting of English men-of-letters of the younger school was the late George Gissing. By his death two years ago England lost one of the most promising of her novelists, for though Gissing had some two dozen novels to his credit at the time of his death, it is his most recent work that shows the great possibilities that lay in the man's genius.

George Gissing was born at Wakefield, on November 22, 1857. His struggles with poverty during the greater part of his career, when he wrote under conditions most trying-frequently having too little to eat and possessing no permanent comforts of a home-probably detracted something from much of his work, for,

while it gave him a thorough knowledge of the English poorer classes, and engendered the power to portray the less lovely side of English life with compelling realism, it kept him amid surroundings distasteful to his nature and imposed upon him restrictions that hindered the full development of his gifts.

In the "Papers of Henry Ryecroft," supposed to be largely autobiographical, Gissing makes one appreciate this pathetic side of his career. Yet through it all

GEORGE GISSING

This author died leaving several manuscripts of a value that increases regret for the loss of one so talented

there is a happily optimistic strain and a tendency to let the past gather in retrospection what glamor it can.

A born student, Gissing became a brilliant scholar. He had the loftiest ideals and despised hack-work, taking pupils to teach in order to devote himself to original composition during the evenings. The work that he did was done thoroughly-he had the patience to "polish and repolish," and much classical reading gave him a standard by which to judge his work.

When Gissing died in 1903 he left MSS. of two novels. The one, "Veranilda," a

six

historical novel, published about months ago, was incomplete, the author's death interrupting the work. "Will Warburton," the other, a story of London life, has just been issued. In speaking of "Veranilda" Mr. Frederic Harrison writes: "In 'Veranilda,' I think, Gissing's poetical gift for local color, his subtle insight into spiritual mysticism, and, above all, his really fine scholarship and classical learning, had ample field."

In the Ryecroft papers there are many quotable passages. Of these we reprint one which shows how Gissing regarded the mercenary disposition of literary

wares.

Why should any man who writes, even if he write things immortal, nurse anger at the world's neglect? Who asked him to publish? Who promised him a hearing? Who has broken faith with him? If my shoemaker turn me out an excellent pair of boots, and I, in some mood of cantankerous unreason, throw them back upon his hands, that man has just cause of complaint. But your poem, your novel, whe bargained with you for it? If it is honest journey-work, yet lacks purchasers. at most you may call yourself a hapless tradesman. If it come from on high, with what decency do you fret and fume because it is not paid for in heavy cash? For the work of man's mind there is one test and one alone, the judgment of generations yet unborn. If you have written a great book, the world will come to know of it. But you don't care for posthumous glory. You want to enjoy fame in a comfortable arm-chair. Ah, that is quite another thing. Have the courage of your desire. Admit yourself a merchant, and protest to gods and men that the merchandise you offer is of better quality than much which sells for a high price. You may be right, and indeed it is hard upon you that Fashion does not turn to your stall.

To the series of small books known as the "Popular Library of Art," Mr. Ed

Velasquez.

Auguste Breal.

ward Garnett, its editor, has, perhaps wisely, added a translation of a French critic's work upon "Velasquez" (E. P. Dutton & Co.), by Mme. Simon Bussy, rather than an original study. Beyond any other painter Velasquez attracts the literary man. He owes his whole position rather to the attention which has been drawn to him by writers than from the more recent adoration of painters. Comparatively neglected by artists in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Reynolds for instance, treating him as of no special importance, his prodigious vogue among painters in the present century, succeeded the attention paid him by literary men.

Yet nothing is more impossible than to express in words what has already been better done on canvas, a fact of which M. Breal has made a frank confession in his preface. Working somewhat in the manner of Taine, he has written rather a description of the pictures which Velasquez has produced, than an analysis of his style, an account of his life, or an explanation of his art. M. Breal is probably right in concluding that Velasquez himself was a man of an easy and open nature, who took things as he saw them, and saw things as he took them. He underestimates the intellection which lies behind his work. He over-estimates the outer envelope of the artist. His little book will give the reader who approaches the subject anew, even with its inky illustrations, a fresh and vivid impression.

Sir

Carl Justi, with his minute German study, "Diego Velasquez and His Time," 1889, remains the most complete study, just as Stirling Maxwell's "Artists of Spain" is the most recondite work. Walter Armstrong has published his usual study, which appeared as part of the "Portfolio," 1897. R. A. M. Stevenson, a cousin of Robert Louis, has written in

Ruskin fashion from the standard of the artist-critic. A full reproduction of hist pictures at a small price is in the "Velasquez" in "Newnes Art Library," with its little sketch by A. L. Baldry, and he figures in Mr. John La Farge's "Great Masters" in a most admirable essay.

Honore de Balzac.

Mary F. Sandars.

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Miss Sandars has written a longer life than either Miss Wormeley, 1892, or Mr. Frederick Wedmore, 1890. She has a less intimate acquaintance with his novels than Balzac's most capable translator and a less nimble criticism than the English critic. Miss Sandars has had access to the collection of Vicomte de Spollberch de Lovenjoul in Brussels, the owner of the originals of the Hanska letters: "Lettres a l'Etrangere" and the largest number of original documents bearing on the French novelist extant. She has brought to the life much original labor and some original facts. She has had the advantage of recent original enquiries of M. Charles Portal, adding much to M. Octave Uzanne's sketch of Balzac's ancestors in 1887. Balssa, the name of the novelist's peasant great-grandfather, points to Italian origin. No life goes much farther than the sketch, "Balzac, sa vie et ses Oeuvres" of his sister, Mme. L. Surville, 1856, and the Hanska letters. No one has yet written the life of this great man in terms of his works. Miss Sandars has composed a careful, painstaking narrative, taking up the successive events in a stormy life of 51 years (1799-1850) and connecting its thread with his novels. The better and more favorable view of his relations with women is taken; but Miss Sandars is discreetly silent on the long procession of the loves of a literary man passing across these pages. Balzac, like many literary men of an artistic temperament, probably was never sure himself whom he loved, how much or to what end. The truth probably lies between Miss Worme