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l EIGHTH PAGE THE SUNNY SOUTH MARCH 22, 1902 * IN THE LITERARY WORLD * Edited by Lucian L. Knight IiEN inquiry is made in _ regard to what people g g w read, the thought nat- K M M urally turns at once to the novels which hap pen to be popular at the moment, “Ben Hur,” “Robert E 1 s m e r e,” “Trilby,” “David Ha- rum," “Janice Mere dith,,” or “The Crisis.” or “Audrey,” as the case may be. Yet as John Cotton Dana forcibly shows in a statistical article In the March is sue of the World’s Work even these record-break ers make but an insig nificant showing when compared with what the people as a mass really read, namely, newspapers and periodicals. He finds that 4.500 new hooks are published yearly in the United States with a total sale of perhaps 10,000,000. How they are overshadowed in the matter of circula tion by the periodical press Mr. Dana points out by some interesting tables. One of the most curious is devoted to showing how much spare in terms of a book the size of “David Harum" is giv en to various topics in the periodicals of the United States for n given year. The commercial and financial news equals in space 270.600,000 copies of “David Ha rum.” trivial personal news 1(10,200,000, ad vertisements 159,200,000. politics 15C.fi0O.O0O, sports 132,000,000, legal 119,000,000, criminal 86.200.000. The list is long, and tapers down to literature, music, art, e.c.. which together make 51.000.000, theatrical news 13.400.000, and biblical 3,fi00,000 Tx>rd Ronald Sutherland Gower’s “The Tower of London” (Macmillan) carries the record from the Stuarts down to the present day. Since the tower during most of this period was a prison, and its most interesting inmates on the. way to the block, the story has a distinctly necro logical flavor and all the melancholy in terest which that kind of writing affords. The illustrations are an important fea ture of the work, and one must imagine that very few old prints of any value have escaped the author's vigilance. In many cases we have the prominent char acters both with their heads on and—in mercifully small scale—with their heads off. As characteristic of the style of Lord Gower’s narrative, we reprint tlie paragraph about the notorious Justice Jeffreys, who was remanded to the tower not as a prisoner, but for his safe keep ing *ngainst the mob which was celebrat ing the flight of the hated James T1. On the same day that James threw away the. great seal of England his lord chancellor, the justly detested Jeffreys, was taken, in the disguise of a common tailor, in a small house, at I) apping, as lie was about to go on board a collier which would have taken him to Hamburg. Once in the power of the mob Jeffreys life was in deadly peril, and he suffered severely at the hands of the people, hut was finally rescued and taken before the lord mayor, who, poor man, died In a lit soon after the terrible judge had been brought before him. more revolting in his abject terror of d |th than even during the bloody assizes m the west, when he had condemned shoals of men and women to tortures and death with jibes and ghastly pleasantry. Pro tected by two regiments of the city train hands. Jeffreys was taken into the tow-i on the 12th of December and given in charge of Lord Lucas, the governor. The warrant of Jeffreys’ arrest, which is unique, is among the tower records, and runs as follows: “We, the peers of this realm, being assembled with some of the privy council, do hereby will and require you to take into your custody the body of George, Lord Jeffreys (herewith sent to voui, and to keep him safe prisoner until further order; for which this shall be vour sufficient warrant.” This war rant is signed by thirteen peers, including the bishop of Winchester. Charles Josselyn s work entitled “The True Napoleon: A Cyclopedia of Events in His Life,” will be ri*)dy from the press of R. II. Russell about A % il * This volume does not pretend to compete with the recent biographies by Mr. Rose nor Mr. Watson, but is rather a digest of the man’s career, his social and political atti tude toward his time. The author him self says: “It is not my purpose to write a life of Napoleon: this volume is simply a compilation of anecdotes and opinion j incident to himself and his times, and. j like J. T. Headley, author of ’Napoleon ' and His Marshals,’ 1 pretend to no orig- j inality, except thaj. lPke ahem, 1 have grouped what l believe to be interesting ^ facts already given to the world and have t used without hesitation any reliable "au- j thor that could help me. The book is as l its title represents, a dictionary of events.” The illustrations include a re production of the portrait of the Emperor Napoleon, drawn by Vixneux and en graved by Henry. The print belongs to the Count Primoli. of Rome, and bears the following testimony written by the Prince Gabrielli himself, :0 relative of j the emperor: “Only portrait of the Em- ■ peror Napoleon Bonaparte that resembles , him. Bought in Paris by the Prince Don | Pietro Gabrielli in December. 1S09.” ^ i According to “The Candid Friend. ' an I interesting book to be published in Lon- , don this month is called “The Guardian ' of Marie Antoinette,” by Lillian C. Smythe. The work deals with the inner j life of the Austrian and French courts. , and circumstances have permitted the ' author to gather together an amount of authentic material that has not before been submitted to the public. The guardian of the French queen was the Austrian ambassador to the court of Ver sailles. the Comte de Mercy-Argenteau. j He was intrusted with the care of Marie i Antoinette when as a child of 14 she mar ried the Dauphin and entered upon her j life at the court of Louis XV. Miss | Smvthe has had access to the papers left j by the Comte de Mercy-Argenteau, now i in the possession of the present repre sentative of the family, the Comtesse de Mercy-Argentefm. Princess de Montglyon, Duchesse d’Avaroy. It was by the spe cial permission of the comtesse that the portraits reproduced in Miss Smythe’s book were photographed. Among them is an absolutely unknown portrait of Marie Antoinette, and another of Louis XVI. There are also portraits of the Empress Marie 'Therese of Austria and of Joseph IT. Mme. de Pompadour, Du Barry and other celebrities of the famous courts. Short Reviews of Latest Books “The Siege of the Lady Resolute” is an excellent historical romance, but it fails to measure fully up to the level of "The Black Wolf’s Breed.” and “THE SEIGE OF consequently it may THE LADY prove somewhat disap- RESOLUTE’’ pointing to the friends of By Harris Mr. Dickson; but still Dickson the reader who merely wants something to en tertain him will find much to approve and little to condemn ij this latest out put of the author’s clever genius. A very charming heroine is Lady Resolute,’ who won her title because of her determined effort not to forgive the lover who failed her at the critical moment. Nothing could be prettier than the tender love Beenes of the first part of the story, in her boy lover's shoulder with the MT» Permanently Cured. No fits or nervousness HIS after first day’s use of Hr. Kline’s Great Nerve Restorer. Send for FREE 8’J.OO trial bottle and treatise. Db. R. H. Kline, Ltd., 931 Arch St., Phil adelphia, Pa. faith of unquestioning woman. She is a Huguenot and her guile, lays her head upon der with the unquestioning faith of a trusting woman, he is a Huguenot and he is a soldier in the army of his Cath olic majesty. For the sake of sport, boorish friends make it his task to shoot condemned servants of his sweetheart's family. He does his duty, despite her pleadings, and she makes up her mind never to forgive the cowardly act. which he has repented in the doing. A second love story complicates Itself with the major one. The intrigues of the weak Louis and his mentor. De Maintenon. furnish exciting incidents which increase in interest as the scene is removed to the new world and the province of Lou isiana, where Indians make raids and white men fight duels. Lady Resolute is always in at the critical moment and finally, after a most dramatic series of incidents, acknowledges her lover her lord and master. (Harper Bros.. New York.) “Capt. Jenks. Hero." by Ernest Crosby, is something of a romantic satire upon the military history of the United States since tlie outbreak of the Spanish-American war Tlie author, who is a son of the late Dr. How ard Crosby, is well known through his anti-impe rialistic and socialistic i the author of a book of Whitmanesque verso, “Plain Talk in Psalm and Parable,” which has been praised liy Tolstoi, Kropotkin. Zangwill and others. The origin of the present book is thus described: In January. 1901, Mr. Crosby lectured at Tremont Temple, Boston, on tlie “Ab surdities of Militarism.” He closed tlie address by expressing the hope that Mark Twain some other humorist would write up the ridiculous features of mili tary life. Two gentlemen who were present, Ervin-g Winslow and Dr. Lewis Jones, came up separately at the close trusting I flight than in any of his earlier novels. The crimson of love, as THE CRIMSON well as the crimson of WING,” By war, colors the pages- “CAPTAIN JENKS’ HERO,’ By Earnest Crosby. writint He Hobart c. Chatfleld- Taylor. if the meetings and urged tlie lecturer . |t 7 h fhe SC p" rislan" aTtrlss.Phas to write such a book himself. Mr. Crosby accepted the suggestion, and in six weeks finished the novel. While Mr. Crosby’s purpose is entirely sincere and commendable, the execution of the book is what might bo expected from the overhaste with which it was written. Tlie theme might have been treated more effectively with less exag- | of Marcello—she was his faith, his prom- geration. Thus he makes his hero cime | ise.” but he sees love’s high nobility in back from the war with broken health j the sweet graciousness and end bis life in a lunatic asylum Aphrodite and Mars play ing alternate parts. The scene of action is at first at Ems. The hero is Count Von Leun-Walram, strange combi nation of artist, feudal knight and Puri tan. He was born in Germany. His fath er was a relative of the Duke of Nassaw and his mother was an American. His mother's life had taught him the ideality of love and because of a promise to her "he had gone through life a fanatic to his own heart but a man of the world to his comrades.” We meet him first in the questionable company of a pretty French actress. Marguerite, who in time develops a unique type of character for one of her profession. Marguerite al ready has a lover, and a jealous one, in Paul Darblay. but she is irresistibly drawn to Louis, the more because lie confides to her a belief that a man should be judged by the same moral standard as a woman and that some day he will find the woman for whom he has been patiently waiting. He finds this young lady In his cousin, Maroelle, whom he has not seen since childhood. She is the daughter of a re tired French officer whose home is in Alsace. The war between Prussia and France is threaten ing. Louis has no love of war, hut circumstances compel him to be a soldier. Again wo have the repeat ed story of lovers in war time forced to take different sides. In tlie confusion of circumstances that follow Ludwig’s troops ride to an Alsatian farmhouse where Mareelle is visiting. She quickly gives the alarm, not knowing that her lover is one of the number. To save bis life she contrives his escape. Then, “womanlike," as many would say. she is alarmed lest what she has done should prove serious to her country and she warns General Douay of (he enemy in the vicinity. Ludwig rides away repeat ing to himself again and again, “There is a love which is deeper than love of country.” Marguer- beoome a hospital nurse. Ludwig is seriously wounded and on coming to consciousness finds himself in a hospital attended by Marguerite. The strangest part of the book is found In the closing chapters. The love of the wounded man for the woman who has nursed him back to life is told with singular pathos and effect. Not that Ludwig l ad failed in thought: of the woman who has sacrificed all for love and ox- pects no return. This dual phase of love playing with lead soldiers. There ■wasi . mystery he cannot understand. It surely plenty of room for cutting sar- ; .j. ,' in f a j r to tlie author to give the final casm without such extravagance. (Funk J SO [ ut j on . Mr. Chatfield-Taylor has evi- & Wagnalls, New York.) j dently studied carefully the details of the With the “Crimson Wing” Hobart C. j Fra neo-Prussian war. (Herbert S. Stone Chatfield-Tnvlor has taken a broader I &. Co., Chicago.) Thomas E, Watson’s Bonaparte” “Napoleon This Latest Work From the Author Is the Thomas E. Watson lias scored another distinct literary hit! Since the appearance of his latest pro duction which deals with the meteoric career of the Man of Destiny both the press and the public have caught the Napoleonic fever to such an extent that the star of tlie Corsican Ss more than likely to remain in the ascendant on this side of the water for some time to come. When Mr. Watson published his “Story of France” some two years ago he aston ished the world of readers by his audaci ty in undertaking to thresh over the straw of French history, but when they began to read his work they were simply car ried away with enthusiasm, less, per haps on account of the racy and tip-to- dat • style of the writer—whic-h was it self an innovation upon the conventional style of the historical composition—than because of the freshness of the material which the book contained, and they could not help vaguely wondering how il was that an untraveled populist lawyer in the backwoods of north Georgia could possibly compass such an extraordinary achievement in the domain of literature. However, if Mr. Watson, -in writing his “Story of France," was successful in overcoming the seemingly Impossible lie lias been still more successful in writing his “Napoleon Bonaparte.” We will, all of us, perhaps, agree that if there was any subject in the whole range of human history which we thought to be thread- bar il was the subject of Napoleon Bona parte. Hundreds of writers with varying degrees of success have been inspired to write upon the Man of Destiny, and the libraries of the world are today crowded with books bearing upon the life of this wonderful military genius who subdued the whole continent of Europe only to fall at last before the prowess of the Iron Duke at Waterloo. Considering the number of such volumes and considering, too, the fact that Lord Rosebery has just written an exhaustive study of Napoleon Bonaparte from the British standpoint it is little short of marvelous that Mr, Watson should have succeeded so remark ably well with his ^book and we con gratulate him ;%ost cordially upon his success which is certainly all the more pronounced under the circumstances. Mr. Watson reviews the career of Napo leon from first to last, bringing to light many obscure phases of his character, and many hitherto overlooked incidents of his life; and whether portraying his as soldier or emperor or prisoner the effect upon the reader is always the same a;d the interest of the work never lags. Concerning the youthful habits of Na poleon when he first began to equip him self for military life, Mr. Watson says: Plutarch’s Lives and Caesar's Com mentaries he had already mastered as a child; Rousseau had opened a new world ot mens to him .n P.uls; lie now con tinued his historical studies by reading Leiouoius, Snaoo. Kiouorus Anything relating to India, China, Arabia, had a peculiar charm for him. Next he learned all lie could of Germany and England. French history he studied minutely, striving to exhaust informa tion on the subject. In his researches he was not content merely with ordinary historical data; fit* sought to understand the secret meaning of events, and the origin of institutions. He studied legis lation, statistics, the history of tlie church, especially the relation of the church to the state. Likewise he read the masterpieces of French literature and the critical judg ments which had been passed upon them. Novels he did not disdain, and for poetry of the heroic cast he had a great fond ness. Ha read, also, the works of Voltaire, Necker, Flangieri and Adam Smitn. AVith Napoleon, to read was to study. He made copious notes, and these notes prove that he bent every faculty of his mind to the book in hand. He analyzed, commented, weighed statements in the balance of Ills own judgments—in short, doing anything necessary to the complete Tnastery of his subject. A paper on which he jotted down tit that time ideas of the relations between church and state appear to show that he had reached the conclusions lie afterwards embodied in the concordat. Rousseau he studied again, but the book that se ms to have taken his fancy more than any othPr was the Abbe Ravnal’s famous "History of the Institutions and Commerce of the Europeans in the Two Indies.” This book was a miscellany of essays and extracts treating of super stition, tyranny, etc., and predicting that a revtBution was at hand in Franca if abuses were not reformed. How was it that Napoleon, with his meager salary, could command so many costly books? A recent biographer patly states that he “subscribed to a public li brary.” This may be true, but Napoleon himself explained to an audience of kings Pen of the Brilliant Georgia Talk of the Bay | and princes at Erfurth. in 1808, that he was indebted to the kindness of one | Marcus Aurelius, a rich bookseller, “a most obliging man who placed bis books at my service.” The personal appearance of the voting lieutenant was not imposing. He was short, painfully thin and awkward. His legs were so much too small for his, boots that he looked ridiculous,—at least (.* one young lady, who nicked-named him “Puss in Boots.” He wore immense “tiog's ears.” which fell to his shoulders, and this style of wearing his hair gave I is dark Italian face a rather sinister lc ok. impressing a lady acquaintance with the thought that he would not be the kind of man that one world like to meet near a wood at night. Generally he was silent, wrapped in his own thoughts, hut when he spoke his ideas were stick ing and his expressions energetic. He rather affected the laconic, oracular style, and his attitude was somewhat that of i man posing for effect. In familiar social intercourse he was different. Ilis smib* became winning, his voice soft and ten der and his magnetism irresistible. lie li ved to joke others and play little pranks with them, hue he could not relish a joke at his own expense, nor did lie encourage familiarity. He had none of the brag, bluster or roughness of the soldier about biin. but in a qui *t wav he was imperious, se’f-confident. self-sufficient. Si little did his tii pel ranee then, tr at any other time, conform to the popular ideal of the sol Tier that one old grenadier of tlie Bourbon armies, on having Napoleon pointed out to him after the Italian campaign, could not believe such a man could possibly be a great warrior. “That a general!” said the veteran with contempt; “why, when he walks he does not even step out \vi.h the right foot first!” Extremely egotistic he was. and so re mained to his last hour. He had no rever ence, looked for facts in all directions, had almost unerring judgment and be lieved himself superior to his fellow-stu dents. to his teachers and to his brother officers. When Napoleon fiist became acquainted with court life he was exceedingly ill at ease and failed to attract the favor of women. But Josephine proved -to be an exception to the rule of her sex and she was not only fascinated by Napoleon, but in turn fascinated him. Says Mr. Wat son: Shy, ill at ease, he was not much no ticed and not much liked hv the ladies of the directorial court, with one excep tion—Josephine. Either because of the al leged return of the sword and the good impression then made, or because of her natural tact and kindness of heart. Mme. Beauharnais paid the uncouth soldier those little attentions which attract, and those skillful compliments which flatter, and almost before he was aware of it Napoleon was fascinated Here was a woman to take a man off his feet, to ■inflame him with passion. She was no longer young, but she was in the glorious Indian summer of her charms. Her per fect form 'was trained in movements of grace. Her musical voice knew its own melody, and made the most of it. Her large, dark eyes, with long lashes, were soft and dreamy. Her month was sweet and sensuous. Her chestnut hair was elegantly disordered; her shoulders and bust hid behind no covering, and of her little feet and ankles just enough was seen to please the eye and stimulate the imagination. As to her costume and her general toi let it was all that studied art anil cul tivated taste could do for generous na ture. Mme. Tallien was more beautiful and more queenly than Josephine, many others excelled her in wit, accomplish ments and mere good looks; but it may be doubted whether any lady of that court or other courts ever excelled the gentle Jostvlme in the grace, the tact the charm, which unites in the make-up of a fascinating society woman. Add to this that she was sensual, ele gantly voluptuous, finished in the sub tle mysteries of coquetry, fully alive to the power which the physically tempting woman exerts over the passions of men, and it can be better understood how this languishing but artful w’idow of 33 in toxicated Napoleon Bonaparte, the raw- provincial of 2 ! That he was madly infatuated there ! can be no doubt. He loved her, and he I never whollv ceased to love her Never . before, never afterwards, did he meet I a woman who inspired him with a feel- i ing at all like that he felt for her. If j tie did not know at that time what she | had been he knew after the marriage I what she continued to he. and he made * a desperate effort to break the spell. He could not completely do so. She might ; betray his confidence, laugh at his love- i letters, neglect his appeals, squander ■ his money, tell his secrets, tell him all sorts of falsehoods, underrate his va'ue misconceive hi--, character, and befoul" him with shameless sin: but against lmr repentance and childlike prayers for pardon, the iron of his nature beeame as wax. Before those quivering lips before those tear-filled eyes, before that tender, sweet voice, all broken with grief he could rarely stand. “J will divorce her!” he said fiercely to his brothers, when they put before him proofs of her guilt, after the Egyp tian campaign. But through the locked door came the sobs of the stricken wife, came her paintive pleadings. "Mon ami!” she called softly, called hour after hour, piteously knocking at the door. It was too much; the cold resolution melted: the soldier was once more the lover, and the door flew open. When the brothers came next dav to talk further about the divorce, they found little Josephine, happy as a bird, sitting on Napoleon’s knee, and nestling in his a “Listen. Bourrienne!" exclaimed Napo leon, joyously, on his return to Paris from Mar-hen. "Listen to the shouts of the people! It is sweet to my ears, this praise of the French—as sweet as (he voice of Josephine!" Fv'-in when cold policy demanded the divorce, it was he who wept the most. “Josephine! ray noble Josephine! The few moments of happiness I have ever enjoyed I owe to you!” And in the closing scene at St. Helena it was the same. The dying man thought no more of the Austrian woman. Even in his delir ium. the wandering memory recalled and the fast freezing lips named “Jo sephine!” Mr. Watson gives this portrayal of the scene which was witnessed at the coro nation of Napoleon as emperor: Brilliant as a dream was the coronation in the great cathedral of Nortre Dame. Paris never witnessed a civic and mili tary display more splendid. The church, the state, princes, foreign and native, grandees, old and new, blazed forth in the utmost that wealth and pride and vanity could display. In a coach, heavy with gold, Napoleon and Josephine rode, amid soldiers, to the church, where the pope had long waited their coming, and where the great Corsican had been con ducted through the proper forms, had prayed, had sworn, had been oiled and blessed, he proudly took the crown out id the pope's hands, crowned himself and then crowned the kneeling Joseph ine (December, 1804). His mother was not there; she was in Rome with the revolted Luoien; but when the artist David paint ed the picture of the coronation Napo leon, with ids never-failing eye of ef fect. had Madame Letitia put in. Just as he wished for his mother on this the groat day of his life, he did not forget his father. “Joseph. what would father have said!" One who had lifted himself from a cottage to the white house in ttiese United States drew all hearts to himself, when, after having taken the oath of office, he turned to his old mother and kissed her. Not far distant from the same creditable feeling was Napoleon's regret for his father. Mother Letitia could not be persuaded to leave Rome and the insurgent Lucien but the old nurse journeyed from Cor sica. to see her nursling crowned. Na poleon hugged and kissed the old woman, lavished every attention upon her and kept her in Paris a couple of months. AY hen she returned to Ajaccio she was laden with gifts. Nor could Brienne bo overlooked in the sunny days of triumph and of happiness. The emperor must return to the school grounds of his boyhood, view the old familiar semios, talk of old times with such former acquaintances as might still be there. Behold him, then, soon after Iiis coronation, arriving at the chateau of Brienne. at 6 in the evening, wh-’ra Madame de Brienne and Madame Lo ttlnii; await him at the foot ot tne steps. He spends the night at the chateau, whose kind mistress had so often made him welcome in thf* forlorn days of his youth. He walks about the place, point ing out every spot familiar to him when at school. He visits the field of La RothiTfre, a favorite strolling place of his youth, lie is so affable, so animated, so interested, that his movements seem to say, “See where 1 started from and j where l have arrived.” "■And what has become of Mother Mar- ; guerite. th .* peasant woman, who used to , sell milk, eggs and bread to the boys?” | Mother Marguerite is still living, still to | be found at the thatched cottage in the | woods. By all means, the emperor must quit the tin* circle at the chateau and visit the old peasant in the lint. A man so gifted with eye to effect could never miss a point like that. So the horse is saddled and brought; the emperor mounts and rides: and at the cottage iu the woods his majesty alights and enters. “Good-day, Mother Marguerite!” The aged eyes are dim. anil they gleam with no recognition. She knows that the em peror is' in the neighborhood: she expects to go to the chateau to see him: she will carry him a basket of eggs to remind him of old tim s. Suddenly his majesty puts himself where the dim eyes can see him better, draws nearer to her. and mimicking in voice and manner his schoolboy tone, and rubbing his hands as he used to do: “Come, Mother Mar guerite! Some milk and fresh eggs; we are dving of "hunger.’’ A little more jogging of the memory, and the ancient dame, knowing now who it is, falls at the emperor’s feet. He lifts her and still insists oil the eggs and milk. She serves, he eats, both of them happy, and both of them full of reminiscences of tin* vears long ago. Though he left her a purs ■ of gold, Mother Marguerite was probably prouder of the fact that he came to her house anil ate. One more visit the great emperor will pay Brienne, the year of the last visit li ing 1S14. Foreign invaders will be en camped ail round about the play grounds of his boyhood. Prussian Blu- cher will be taking his ease and his sup per iu the chateau. Prussian Blucher will give him battle at Brienne and will | rout him at La Rothiere. And to his i companions, the falling emperor will ! again point out plan *s of interest in the i old school ground, but not In the happy j vein of 1S04. , • j Coming on down to the prisoner s last j days at St. Helena. Mr. Watson draws ' this pathetic picture: Landed at St. Helena, he was given shabby quarters in a renova'ted, repaired i and amplified cow house. The walls of | it were thin, the rooms small; the rain and the wind pierced it. the heat made an | oven of it. the rats infested it; no shade trees cast grateful shade about it; no fruits or flowers relieved its dismal re- | pulsiveness. To make sure that Napoleon I coulil not escape off the isolated, prectpi- I tons rock of St. Helena, a considerable fleet of cruisers girdle the Island, and nearly 3.000 troops watched the prisoner. The eye could not range in any direction without resting upon a sentinel. During the day time the emperor had continual reminders of his fallen condition, and when night came on tlie line of sentinels closed in. and no one could pass. The prisoner and his friends were al lowed to have books to read; and if Sir Hudson Lowe in browsing among the European newspapers and magazines happened upon some peculiarly bitter weed of abuse of Napoleon, that particu lar paper or magazine was sure to be sent up to Longwood. Napoleon's resi dence. If books, papers or magazines ar rived in which the captive was tenderly handled, such articles became contraband upon one plea or another, and rarely reached the lonely man they would have cheered. The prisoner and his compan ions were given enough to eat. generally, and a sufficiency of fuel and water. The question of title gavt» more trouble at St. Helena than almost any other. It was vexatious, it was met at every turn, and it could never be settled. It angered Napoleon excessively when Sir Hudson I,owe persistently continued to shut off from hint all letters, books or other ar ticles which came addressed to “The Emperor.” Great Britain was resolved that he should not be known by the title he had worn so long, which a vote of the French people had confirmed, which the pope hpd consecrated so far as a pope can consecrate, which every king on the continent had recognized, and which Eng land herself had recognized at the con gress of Chatillon, if not under the min istry of Charles Fox. "Genera! Bona parte” was the highest title that Great Britain could now allow; and her prisoner resisted her as stubbornly on this point as General George Washington resisted lien right to send him letters addressed “Mr. George AA’ashington.” “Let us compromise,” urged Napoleon: “pall me General Duroc or Colonel Mui- rnn.” “No!" said Great Britain; “we will call you General Bonaparte, for that hurts you.” Tn simple words, such was England's attitude throughout his cap tivity to this lonely, broken, most wretch ed man. A book which an Englishman. Byron's friend, JTohhousp. wrote on the Hundred Days, and which would have given the exile immense pleasure, was not delivered because in sending U the author had written on the fly leaf. “To the Kmneror Napoleon.” And when the prisoner died and his friends wished to inscribe on his coffin lid the word. “Napoleon." Great Britain, speaking through Sir Hudson Lowe, re fused the privilege. Napoleon was the im perial name; it could not be permitted. The white face of the dead man. the fold ed hands, the frozen sleen of death, made no apoeal to his captor which con'd soften this inexorable enm ! ty. Hounding him to his verv grave !**ey demanded th"* “Bonarfhrte” be added to “Napoleon” to prove to all the world that England, un generous to the living captive who had come to her for generosity, had been im placable even unto death', and after death. So it was that the coffin of this great est of men went unmarked to the tomb, Save in the anonymous burial there was no escape from the malignancy which had made h1s last years one long period of torture. Mr. AA'atson possesses in an extraordi nary degree the imaginative faculty for reconstructing the past so as ta make it real to present-day readers and the suc cess of hts “Napoleon Bonaparte” is due largely to his brilliant powers in this re spect. The MacmiWian Company, of New York, are the publishers of the "work, and the Columbian Book Company, of Atlanta, are the agents for the state of Georgia. Handsomely bound in attractive covers the work Is uniform in appearance with “The Story of France,” and is complete in one volume. The Sale of Ruskin’s Books An interveew with Mr. George Alien, Ruskin’s friend and publisher, in Great Thoughts, throws some interesting light on the circulation of Ruskin’s books. Asked as to whether he considered that the public consideration of Ruskin’s works was as great as ever, Mr. Allen replied: It is even more so. The modern clergy man buys him frequently, whilst his pre decessor in the sixties looked unon him with a doubtful eye. To this day, “I'nto This Last,” which is by no men ’s a honk for the man in the street, sells to the extent of several thousand copies a year. Of “Sesame and Lilies." I have sold one hundred thousand copies. Mr. Allen once said to Ruskin, _^‘Are you not pleased that your books are sell ing so well?” “Ah!” he sadly repled, “peo ple think a great deal more i>f my books than 1 do myself.” Mr. Allen told an incident which he thinks will “horrify staunch Ruskinians, but which will throw a new light on the man.” AA'hen Ruskin was giving lessons at Great Ormond street, he received a let ter frr m a friend saying: “I am going to bring Tom Sayers to see you tonight” — it was just after Sayers had beaten Heenan in their celebrated fight. Ruskin said to me: “Allen, bring some port to the college tonight, as Sa ver is coming there and we must drink hjs health.” I did so. Instead, however, or Stayers coming his photo came. Ruskin was awfully disap pointed. A tittle of the wine was drunk, and the remainder Mr. Allen took, by Mr. Ruskin’s orders, to Mrs. Booth, Turner's old housekeeper, who was then lying ill at Chelsea. In the early sixties Mr. All*n and Mr. Ruskin lived in Switzerland for a couple of years. Among other incidents of our Swiss life (says Mr. Allen) I remember well seeing him on Easter Sunday, 1863, when we were high up in the mountains, kneel down and Pray with a peasant girl at a wayside cross. He had a wonderful eye for the beauties of nature. I recollect him once breaking out into a rhapsody of delight on coming unexpectedly across a sloping field of star gentians. He wanted to pur chase the top of the Brezon Mountain, a favorite of Turner, and he said he would build a chalet on it and have Rossetti out to decorate it. 1 was one day talking to him about the (in those days inacces sible) peaks like the Aiguille Dru, the Aiguille Vorte, and the Aiguille dti Geant. and he added. “Thank God, they will nev=*r get up those.” Ruskin loved to feel that a peak had not been sullied by human footsteps. JZ? The Voice and the Guitar Lightly it floats through the shadows of night Over the marsh, where the fiddlers are “peeping,” Going it’s way by the ling-aloes white, AVaking the (silence the day has been keeping. “Open thy window, Querido, for me. Through the blue wa'lrs my shallop is plying. Open thy window. I’m coming to thee. Soul of my soul, with a love deify ing!” Softly the notes of each silver string plaints. Vibrant and clear is the lover's low singing. Delicate lilies as pure as the saint's. Swoon in the ecstaev passion is bring ing. “Open thy lattice. Querido, and give, Sweets of thy lips to me, others de nying; Open thy arms, that my spirit may live . Ever In bliss that i’s swift and un dying!” Fondly the lover’s voice melts on the air; Tenderly, sweet, is the anxious heart thrilling: Down by the bend of the brown bayou, where Blue titles are bent he can hear this low trilling: “Open my window is, love, and I lean Out on the moonlight, that brightly is flying Into the black shadows sweeping be tween Me and thee, Sweet; I am waiting and sighing!” —LOLLIE BELLE WYLIE. Flower and Star Sweet flower! despite thy low estate. Is not nigh honor due thee? AA’hy shouldst theu wish to emulate A'on star’s supremer beauty? I.ike vond Q r star thou, too. dovt fill The place which God assigns thee; Obedient to His sovereign will. The selfsame purpose binds thee. The star, whose splendor shines above. Is Might, in its completeness. Thou, lowly flower, art type of Love In its divinest sweetness. Bright, fair, hiit oh so far away And cold, yon star is blinking. Fut thee upon my heart I lay, Thy grateful fragrance drinking. Dost thou not teach, oh, lovely one, AA'isdom a.s true and tender As any taught by star or sun In all their glorious splendor? Nay. rather doth thine artless speech To simple minds seem dearer, Through humblest things may AVisdom reach To God, and bring Him nearer. Sweet flower! content thee with thy place, Nor dream of stars above thee. Thou, too, canst turn to heaven thy face. Assured that God doth lot-e thee. —CHARLES W. HL'BNER. Atlanta, Ga» Ghe literary QutlooK Rose Maid of the sunny June, With heart and lips atune AVith summer’s song; Face like a fragran-l bloom, Arid never a trace of gloom The whole day long; With soul as chaste as snow. And voice like music low. And eyes divine; Thou hast ensnared my heart AA r ith dainty, artless art And grace benign. Now let. thy soft embrace Each sordid thought efface From heart and brain; And hushed in rapture's spell, In love's domain we’ll dwell And dream, we 'twain. —LOUISE THREETE HODGES. ITHIN the next few days? there will take place in London a public sale of some very valuable manu scripts, three rather lengthy collections of Wil liam Morris’ handwriting and one volume containing copies of sixty-seven let ters written by Lord Nel son, many of which have never been published. 1 Morris manuscripts com prise “A Dream of John Ball,” making ninety-five pages houn in Kelnscott vellum; “The Frienc s p Amis and Amile,” nineteen pages foolscap, and the original autograp i manuscripts of five lectures on art suo- jects, covering 137 pages. Morns manu scripts are very scarce, an occasional au tograph letter appears, but such an ex tended lot of Morrisiana has never been offered before, and. doubtless, the prices will be high. Those who are interested in autobio graphical detail will enjoy reading the following from Arthur Henry. Mr. Henry is the author of “A Princess of Arcad.v, published last year, and "An Island Cabin,” which will be issued this spring. “I was born.” he writes, “in 1867 in Peccatoniea. Ills. M.v father was one of the early circuit riders. He was killed in the war and my mother was thrown on her own resources. She was of a very poetical temperament, wrote poems for “The Ladies’ Repository”—now Scrib ner's Magazine—was an evangelist and organized the AVoraan's Christian Tem perance Ui ion. She was a very remarK- able woman. “I was very delicate 3s a child and it was doubtful whether T should ever grow up. So I never went to school; in fact, I wouldn’t go. Ard my mother, thinking I would die from year to year, did not press the matter. Every summer she sent me out on a farm where there were dogs. I can’t remember ever learning to read. Think I picked it up unconsciously by sitting beside m.v sister in the evening and listening while she read aloud, in terrupted by occasional questions from me. Knew nothing of arithmetic until T was 20 years old. when I beeame inter ested in it as a study and took it up. [ learned everything that way. “AA'hen T was 14 mother bought a home in Evanston, Ills. I was sent to the preparatory school then. T had rend philosophy, history and everything I could lay my hands on. but systematic study 1 could not understand, and T left school for good after three weeks. So I roamed around Evanston for two years, and then my sister’s health became poor and my mother started us for the Rocky mountains. AA’e got as far as Nebraska, where mother discovered she had no more money. Then I felt T must go to work and went to a family friend to herd cattle. I used to go out with them every morning and climb a high plateau, where T could watch the herd. I did this for about eight months, going out w|U a volume of Pope or Emerson every morn ing. Then I wrote my first poem, know ing nothing of prosolgy, hut feeling that verse, must be euphonious. “T went to Central City after that, where I split kindling wood for board. Then I got a. job in Faulkner's book store, but found the life irksome, and went to Chicago, where I got a job in S. A. Kean's bank. He was a friend of moth er's. He had never read a book outside of the Bible Then I began to write. My first story, ‘A Legend of Pastine.’ was printed by Slason Thompson, who gave me $40 for It. Then I wrote ‘A Ghost’s AA ooing.’ This I read to Kean, who^vas very angry and tried to make me promise to tend to business and leave literature alone, and he would take me into the business. But 1 got a horse with the money 1 made by these stories and rode from Chicago to New York, wandering around the country, dependent on the kindness of farmers for food and lodging, until I was 20 years old. I began to take an interest in politics then and made a prohibition speech in Rochester. My horse grew lame and useless and I wan dered through the Berkshires on foot and then drifted back to Chicago, where T went into the newspaper business. Knowing nothing of life. I would go out and look around, come in and write about what I had seen, but could never find it in the paper. Tlie editor didn’t know what to make of me. but Elgene Field, who was on the staff, kept me there and was interested in me. One day Stone said to me: ‘AA’hat are jcu trying to do, anyway? Are you trying to imitate AA'ashington Irving? This country has had only one AArashington Irving and that is enough. Now, you get out 011 the street and look around you and see what's there 1 and come in and write it.’ I went out. ! came back, wrote a column and a half i about what happened on the corner, and j from that time all my stuff was publish- j ed. AA'rote a novel. ’Nicholas Blood.’ that ! I am ashamed of now, and which was i never published. Then 1 became city I editor of The Toledo Blade, and there I i met Miss Maude Wood, a young news- j paper woman, whom T married. AVe lived ; in Toledo for three years. T also became ' interested in an electric road from Miami I to Toledo, and started in the green house I business at one time. But I’ve had j enough of business. Am trying to get | some understanding of life and not injure ! anybody, if possible. New York has a!- j ways been a favorite place for me. 1 have since had a novel published, \\ Princess of Arcadv.’ ” ♦ Robert Barr has made ngland his home Robert Barr has made England his home that his last book. “The AMctors.” is only now being issued there, six months after its publication in this country, comes as a slight surprise unless one has read the book and realized the entirely American nature of it. “The A’ictors’’ is the story of an American political boss, perhaps based on Richard Croker as a central figure, and with the excitement of a New A'ork city election on last fall, it was not strange that the American publishers of the book rushed the volume out then. AA'hether the newspapers tried every one with their political news or whether the interest in the campaign against Tam many was so great as to keep readers from taking up a story of political intrigue or not is hard to say, but certain it is that the book did not sell as well as the merit of the story or the fame of the author would have led one to expect. However, a book is not published until the people know about it, a fact which was amusingly demonstrated the other day when a New York paper reviewed “The House AA r ith the Green Shutters” and called it “the book of the week.” The story was published early last fall by a New York firm, but the local paper had only discovered it. That book, by the way. has *had a curious history. It is said that in the first three months of its life scarcely 309 copies were sold. The head of the firm which had it returned from abroad dur- j ing the winter and when he discovered I the condition of poor sales, exclaimed: ! “AA’hat’s the matter? The book is sell ing by the thousand in England. AA'e must get out and tell people what a great story this is." and then he~*«n over the words of praise which the leading critics had given it in London. j It happened that a week or so later one of the large weeklies printed an article calling the book one of the two best of 1901. Up to that time the dealers had been referring to the volume as “The I House With the Green Shudders,” but when the, public began to inquire for it they looked at the book more hopefully. Twice already since the boom started t there has not been a copy on sale, and j now the editions are going ahead by th s five thousands. -*• For those who are at all interested j„ political situations of th. various power,?, more particularly of England, a recently Issued collection of parodies on “A lie- j., Wonderland" will prove or interest. Th»y are called “Clara in Bunderland.” by Caroline Lewis. Clara is evidently M r . Arthur Balfour, dressed a.s a little girl and attended by various nurses, who us. sist her in making an “Irish stew.’ One day Clara had a fall down a hole ; n a putting gretn, where she had -to: * o g-t her golf ball. “I do wish,” she cried out, “that J huij Geraldine (Gerald Balfour) wit r . Then I cculd hide in some cabinet or ether where I should never h • ■tie*’), and, perhaps, when the Aberatnmais hud eaten her up, they wouldn't be in : y f 0P me.” When Clara reached the .ttom she found herself safe and sou .n a seat in a large hall full of green ha.-j (the house of commons). A “whit, r >- bit" sat in front and shouted. q<. r ; Order!” AA'hen they started to !-■■;,«! a bill Clara tried to get out. but < r door was locked; the best she ■ was to get a glimpse of “a beautifa g . don,’’ carpeted with flowers of in n Intellect and filled with hundr*): ,? , py children, of whom three f-.-mi a quorum, and of whom some s* n, ! : more than half awake (the f lords) The Dalmeny eat is in : sonation of Lord Rosebery. : A. rd.,rn and Reknighted deal with S01 > f r j t and the war office and Dragon ■-> turtle refer to China and Turk ♦ A life of Ellen Terry has just bee fished in London, and the stage r n ij s . cences of Clara Morris are issie ■ th-rs with a very pleasing introduce Mary Anderson. Ex-Empress Eug* , said to be at work upon her ante ,gr, t . phy, but not for publication, ibi pose, according to the report, is to piny* the manuscript in some public h tion, where it may be consulted one who desires to refer to it. T ■ jjfl> of Queen Alexandra will be issued : irt- ly. The author is Mrs. Sarah Toole; wrote "The Personal Life of Queen Vic toria.” One of the leading literary ehron rs of England, who is a sturdy defend f Kipling's point of view in “The is ers,” is very joyful over the discovery n “Dooley's Opinions” of the same :-t of a standpoint in spite of the fact it Dooley has himself severely critic Kipling's “wurrukin’ pomes.” It his dissertation on athletics that Air. Dooley has committed himself. “AA’hy is England losin’ her supre macy. Hinnissy? Because Englishn, a get down to their jobs at ilivin oV: .. k figurin’ a goluf scoor on their cuffs -in’ lave at a quarter to twelve on a hi. - ■ • Ye can’t keep yer eye on the h I an’ on th’ money at th’ same time. Y got to be wan thing or another in this worruld. I niver knew a good card pi a - or a great sportsman that cud do muc-u of anr.ythir.g else. . . . Did ye • ' r hear iv Grant wearin’ any medals Fr a hundred yard dash? Did annywan l\ tell ye iv th’ number iv base hits m; id be Abraham Lincoln? Is there anny rk ord iv George Washin’ton doin’ a turn r a thrapeze or Thomas Jefferson gettin’ t money f’r throwin’ th’ hammer? In me younger days ’twas not considered ru - spictable f’r to be an athlete. An athi* was always a man that was not sthr< enough f’r wurruk. Fractions druv h , fr'm school an’ th’ vagrancy laws druv him to l^aseball." SHAVE YOURSELF, The Patent Safety Razor Cuard makes it ulterly impossible to cut the f ;l while shaving. It can be easily adjusted fit the blade of any razor making it a r- fect SAFETY razor. Can be instantly r* moved or changed from one razor to anotl • It made of best steel, nickel-plated, a -1 finely finished. Frier 40 cents, pis*,' * (the cost of four shaves.) Address W. li. SIMS, I>epf. A.,Newton, Iown Tlie Sunnu Soutin GluDDino List. 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