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diff --git a/old/62763-h/62763-h.htm b/old/62763-h/62763-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 2aa91dc..0000000 --- a/old/62763-h/62763-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1865 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fly Leaf, Volume 1, Number 5, by Walter Blackburn Harte. - </title> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - - -div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} -div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} - - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} - - - - -.xxlarge {font-size: 150%;} -.xlarge {font-size: 125%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.gap {padding-left: 5em;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verseright { text-align: right;} -.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} -.poetry .indent5 {text-indent: 4.5em;} -.poetry .center {text-align: center;} - - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Fly Leaf, No. 5, Vol. 1, April 1896, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Fly Leaf, No. 5, Vol. 1, April 1896 - -Author: Various - -Editor: Walter Blackburn Harte - -Release Date: July 26, 2020 [EBook #62763] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLY LEAF, APRIL 1896 *** - - - - -Produced by hekula03, David E. Brown, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span> is distinctive among all the Bibelots.—<span class="smcap">Footlights, Philadelphia.</span></p> - - - -<h1>The Fly Leaf</h1> - -<p>A Pamphlet Periodical of<br /> -the Century-End, for Curious<br /> -Persons and Booklovers.</p> - - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p><span class="smcap">Conducted by Walter Blackburn Harte.</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - - - -<p>Published Monthly by the Fly Leaf Publishing Co.,<br /> -Boston, Mass. Subscription One Dollar a Year.<br /> -Single Copies 10 Cents. April, 1896. Number<br /> -Five. -</p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">Unique and Distinctive in Bibelot -Literature.</h2></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Critics agree in saying The Fly Leaf fills a field -of its own.</span></p> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span> is distinctive among all the Bibelots.—<span class="smcap">Footlights</span>, -Philadelphia.</p> - -<p>It is a delightfully keen little swashbuckler.—<span class="smcap">The Echo</span>, -Chicago.</p> - -<p>The latest of the Bibelots. In my opinion it is the only one -of the lot, including the “Chap-Book,” “Philistine,” etc., -which knows what it is driving at. The editor of the “Chap-Book” -toddles along, following or attempting to follow, the -twists and turns of the public taste—at least that is what he -wrote in a Note not long ago—and the editor of the “Philistine” -curses and swears, and devastates the atmosphere, trying his -best to kill everything. “<span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span>” at once impressed -me that Mr. Harte knows what he wants, and seriously intends -to have it. I hope he will.—<span class="smcap">The North American</span>, Philadelphia.</p> - -<p>It will pay any one who wishes to keep up with the literary -procession to peruse this sprightly little periodical.—<span class="smcap">The Examiner</span>, -San Francisco, Cal.</p> - -<p>That bright little bundle of anecdote, comment, essay, poetry -and fiction, “<span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span>,” of Boston, comes out in particularly -good style. It gives rich promise of many good things -to come.—<span class="smcap">The Commercial Advertiser</span>, New York.</p> - -<p>Number two of Walter Blackburn Harte’s dainty monthly -“<span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span>,” is out, and filled with the spirit of youth -and beauty in literature, and zealous with culture, taste and -faith toward higher ideals, it is going about doing good.</p> - -<p>Mr. Harte is strong, brilliant and brave as an essayist of the -movement, and is making friends everywhere. The poetry and -prose is all of high merit.—<span class="smcap">The Boston Globe.</span></p> - -<p>The thing I like about Mr. Harte is his splendid spirit of -Americanism, his optimistic belief in native literature and native -writers; his hatred of all things bordering on toadyism or servile -flattery of foreign gods to the exclusion of home talent. This is -the key-note of <span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span>, and Mr. Harte will be apt to -say some trenchant, candid and always interesting things in its -pages.—<span class="smcap">The Union and Advertiser</span>, Rochester, N. Y.</p> - -<p>These are a few criticisms of the first two numbers, selected -from a great heap of enthusiastic notices. <span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span> is -promoting a Campaign for the Young Man in Literature. All -the young men and women in America are discussing its unique -and original literature, and spreading its fame.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">The Fly Leaf</h2></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">No. 5. <span class="gap">April, 1896.</span><span class="gap"> Vol. 1.</span></p> - - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">TO THE ILLUSTRATOR.</h2></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Send us some fancy cuts to go</div> -<div class="indent">With our great author’s next;</div> -<div class="verse">Give them the proper twist, that so</div> -<div class="indent">We can ad. lib. insert the text.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="center"><small>TWENTY MINUTES AFTER.</small></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Here are the words, 1000 just;</div> -<div class="indent">Ideas left out, as you implore,</div> -<div class="verse">Makes prices double; but I trust</div> -<div class="indent">Your sales will mount a million more.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="center"><small>A LITTLE LATER.</small></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Herewith the pictures, full of fizz!</div> -<div class="indent">But why on writers waste your type?</div> -<div class="verse">Give us a chance and this pen-biz</div> -<div class="indent">From off your pages we will wipe.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright">—<span class="smcap">Adam Quince.</span></div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THE APOTHEOSIS OF THE HARLOT -IN THE PASSING SHOW.</h2></div> - - -<p>I am well aware that the true lover of books -is too wise to take a one idea’d bigot of a reformer -to his cosy fireside. I therefore preface -my observations under this somewhat alarming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -caption with an assurance that I am inspired -by no visionary enthusiasm to turn aside the -course of human nature.</p> - -<p>These few notes deal with certain superficial -aspects of the general consciousness, as molded -and modified by the social, civil and moral influences -of our time. They show certain forces -incident to the development of some measure of -mental life in the mass. They are not made in -any spirit of arrogant ascetism, or in the hope -of radically mending the everyday morals of -mankind by precept or persuasion. The morals -of mankind are already under the care of a certain -apostolic succession, that with great wisdom -has substituted faith for morality as better suited -to the constitution of human nature. These enlightened -trustees of infallible revelation are -ably reinforced by a great many reformers, and -they need no support from profane literature. -Indeed the professional moralists find extremely -good picking in the widespread hallucination -that presents morality in the fascinating form -of a rabid curiosity about the doings of others. -They rather resent scientific criticism, and I -shall never intrench upon the workers in this -field, alluring as are all impossible reforms to -me, so long as there is any sort of following for -common sense. But I think certain psychological -forces at work in the swelter of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -century-end are worthy of some sort of record; -and at this moment I am thinking exclusively -of American conditions and phases, which are -the least likely to find an historian, and not of -Max Nordau’s pictures of contemporary Europe.</p> - -<p>There is so much pinching of the spirit done -in the name of morality that it is not surprising -that some who care most for the spiritual side -of life view all moral propagandas with some disfavor. -In these few pages I simply wish to -make a plea for a little sweetness and sanity -from the Epicurean standpoint. Among the -grossest satyrs the ideal concerns of the intellect -and imagination often find their most inspiring -welcome, while among moralists and -reformers of human nature they are regarded -with indifference or open animosity. For this -reason it is important that a well defined distinction -should be made in the reader’s mind -between the claims of simple sanity and the absurd -dreams of perfectibility which form the insensate -ambition of moralists. The aims of -literature can never be those of reform.</p> - -<p>Every generous mind is impelled at some time -or other to try to wholly mend or end the perversities -of human nature, but, in spite of the -faith and example of the saints and martyrs, a -few years’ experience shows the folly of it. The -folly of a Utopian moralist and reformer is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -greater than the folly of the mob itself. Even -the old Hebrew prophets, with all their fine -fury and mystical reliance on the arm of Jehovah, -and their undoubted leadership and influence, -failed to lessen the potent and eternal -allurement of carnal pleasure and indulgence -one jot or tittle. The world has grown too old -for any but mad persons to dream of combatting -those evils which are inevitable in the constitution -of things. But since nearly all the consolations -of life are not inherent in human nature -but are the painful conquests of the mind, are, -in a word, artificial creations of man’s own subjective -life, and not at all incident to the ordinary -course of life in a wild and natural state, -we must strive to maintain a distinction between -the interests of the imagination and intellect, -and the concerns of everyday human nature.</p> - -<p>It is not, therefore, in any intolerant spirit -that would deny the inevitableness of the carnal -life that I touch upon “The Apotheosis of the -Harlot.” I simply wish to show, in the broadest -and most liberal temper, that even the most -inevitable and legitimate passion of humanity -must be kept restrained within bounds, or the -whole of human life forfeits its hope and dignity -and purpose. Nature can parody herself in the -excess of madness. The sanity of human life, -social institutions, and all intellectual activity is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -imperilled when the passions of the blood, and -especially passions perverted, obtain an exaggerated -dominance over the emotions and passions -of the mind. That there is a decided drift -toward this ascendancy of the Pander and the -Harlot in the social and intellectual life of modern -democracy, is beyond all sort of doubt, and -cannot be blinked by any clear minded and untainted -observer. That is, any observer who is -not in fee of one of these gigantic enterprises -which flourish upon the epidemic of mediocrity. -There is an odd and strange obliquity of moral -vision that accompanies optimism professed as -a probable investment in the follies of the -credulous.</p> - -<p>Of course the triumph of the Harlot in great -affairs and destinies is nothing new. She has -swayed courts and kings and empires from antiquity, -and there is no moral force in human -society that can ever disturb this firmly established -and most stable of all human institutions. -Dynasties totter, empires fall into ruins, religions -decline, philosophies shrivel to empty -names, nations perish and their history is lost, -civilization advances or decays, but the Harlot -plays her fateful part in the destinies of the race. -She is almost as important a factor in molding -the purpose and character of humanity as the -mother. Her potent and unassailable dominion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -of the minds of men is due to the eternal fantasy -of human passion, and whatever may be the prevailing -code of morals, she will hold her sway -of wreck and ruin to the end of time. To rail -against an institution so inherent in the constitution -of human affairs is sheer folly. Indeed, -it may be almost said to be flying in the face of -Providence, since the only providence which we -know to be effective in this world is the unfailing -crookedness of human nature.</p> - -<p>This view of Providence in human affairs -makes turning on Providence a less heinous offence -than the phrase suggests to some with -minds in pawn; and there are always some idealists -ready to oppose human nature itself, in rash -dreams of the conquest of life for love and -beauty and the spirit. It is not the eternal -witchery and potency of the Harlot I wish to -emphasize in this place, for that needs no argument, -but the fact that with the progress of -modern democracy this ancient institution, -hitherto confined within the limits of civic life, -the court and political affairs, has suddenly -loomed up as the one great overshadowing fact -and potency of human existence. And so in -spite of my parade of common sense and sanity -I may be held to be an impossible idealist in -many quarters, for I am opposing my own individual -tastes and those of a small minority, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -the overwhelming tide of human nature. I find -the reign of the Harlot irksome—especially in -the distractions of literature and the theatre.</p> - -<p>Some sort of parity has hitherto been maintained, -for a period of historical development, between -human nature in its unbridled enjoyment -of sensation, and those concerns of the intellectual -life, which have been the occupation and -solace of the few, to whom the pleasures of artifice -have grown more necessary than those of -sense, and, in moments of clearness and calm, -dearer than life itself. With the progress of -modern democracy, ordinary human nature has -sought factitious and unusual excitements, and -plunged into a course of sophistication. It has -insidiously encroached upon this realm of artificial -delights of the intellect, which the aliens -of the race have painfully wrested from life and -nature. The Harlot astride Pegasus is the end -of popular education.</p> - -<p>The authority of religion and the force of -superstition, which for centuries kept the arts -and literature somewhat remote from the common -ideals and passions of the mass of men, -have declined, and with their eclipse the ideals -of the great mass of vulgar appetites have grown -with social freedom and popular education, until, -at this hour, we see the greatest tyranny of history -established, of which the Triumphant Harlot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -is the head and front and fitting symbol. It -is the pitiless despotism of the millions of uplifted, -cruel, greedy maws that hold the fateful -pence that decide every question of life and -thought in this age of enlightenment. Every -clod’s dirty penny or vote counts for as much as -a head full of brains. It is a sublime spectacle. -It is not the fact of the prosperity of the Harlot -in democracy which is at all remarkable, for of -course she has not depended upon societies or -governments, but upon human nature for her -queenship; it is the glorification of her arts and -her power, in the open prostitution of the printing -press in her honor and worship, the deification -of her calling and character in the popular -imagination, the dedication of the theatres solely -to her exploitation, and the trafficking in her person -and perversities, which is the stock in trade -of the picture periodicals devoted to the edification -of the millions—these things are not only -maddening and nauseating, but they belong distinctly -and peculiarly to this end of the century. -It is a form of insane sex worship which is destitute -of every vestige of glamor, of poetry, of -real excuse in nature. It is a grotesque parody -of all the beauty and dignity of human life. It -is the grim and ironical ending of the emancipation -of the appetites of the millions, in the -thousand and one delusions of popular education.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -Ancient religions included the glorification -of sex. But this is the exaltation of the -lowest type of humanity—the sexless Pander to -that grim disease of imagination which is peculiar -to our hypocrisy of ascetic morality.</p> - -<p>In the hourly prints of the day we pick up, at -every turn in the city, on hoardings, on every -theatre bill board, in the shop windows—everywhere -the triumphant, glorious and illustrious -Harlot of the day or season, in one of her many -roles, as dancer, actress, singer, society woman, -erotic novelist and the rest, confronts us in -her overwhelming and audacious supremacy of -finery, wealth, comfort and the adulation of the -community. We get her triumphs, her person, -her biographies, her lovers, her scandals, her -clothes and her character (these are all about -the same, too) with the painstaking detail of -sober history. Some of the queans, who have -discovered the secret of perpetual rejuvenation, -we cannot escape by any chance. These we -seem doomed to get forced upon us forever. -There may be great poets, great thinkers, great -philosophers and teachers in our contemporary -world, but there is no room for them in the tide -of current history-making or in the popular -interest and imagination. The glorified Harlot -alone is worthy to fill the mirror of the time; -she alone can warm the cockles of the heart of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -democracy. It is for this that the great democracy -has mastered the three R’s.</p> - -<p>Aspasia in the full noontide of the greatness -of Pericles, Lais just turned into the wonder of -the world in the marble of Appeles, and Phyrne -made immortal by Praxiteles as Venus rising, -rosy, nude and dishevelled from the sea, are -wantons who will ever hold the imaginations of -men enthralled. But it is certain that in the -very meridian of their glory, with poets, philosophers -and the greatest artists of history at -their feet, their fame never filled the narrow -confines of the ancient world as that of the -season’s kicking strumpet of the Music-hall fills -the modern world with its enlarged boundaries. -The fame and name of every fresh bawd from -the canaille is now cabled to the four corners of -the earth. The notorious harlot of each season’s -revels is the female Colossus of the modern -world. She is the goddess of the world of -traffic. There, aloft, above the reach of all -hungry, envious paupers, she rules and overshadows -two hemispheres with her legs astride.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Walter Blackburn Harte.</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">WHEN SHAKESPEARE WROTE.</h2></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">When Shakespeare wrote his mighty plays,</div> -<div class="verse">Superb in action, thought and phrase,</div> -<div class="indent">He got but meagre vague renown</div> -<div class="indent">Beyond the wits of London Town:—</div> -<div class="verse">To know the great the world delays.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Obscure he walked the urban ways:</div> -<div class="verse">From queen and courtier came the praise,</div> -<div class="indent">The sneer, the cuff, the smile, the frown,</div> -<div class="indent5">When Shakespeare wrote.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But in our modern modish days</div> -<div class="verse">From sheer caprice the critic slays,</div> -<div class="indent">Or seeks to put the poet’s crown</div> -<div class="indent">Upon some pompous pedant clown.</div> -<div class="verse">No poetasters wore the bays</div> -<div class="indent5">When Shakespeare wrote.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><span class="smcap">A. T. Schuman.</span></div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">A LITTLE COMMENTARY ON -CULTURED EUROPE.</h2></div> - - -<p>I wish some eminent psychologist and impartial -student of ineradicable racial traits would -calmly investigate the popular myth of an -“American” literature.</p> - -<p>I valiantly insist upon the existence of literature -in America, but do not see much prospect -for an “American” literature.</p> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>I wonder if the critics who are optimistic -about an “American” literature ever stop to -consider the fact that two-thirds of the people -who live in this country are of different stock -than ours, and different racial traditions and language. -Then they are from the depth of savagery. -They are illiterate and brutal, and possessed -of an unconquerable phlegm that cannot -tolerate such trivial, foolish things as the arts -and literature. Moreover, they are utterly out -of sympathy with the ideals of our race.</p> - -<p>We often speak of Europe as the home of the -arts and their uplifting influences. It is true -enough, of course, but here is one of the ironies -of that old cradle of misery. This is only the -gloss of barbarism. How many Americans remember -Europe is also the home of the illiterate -and utterly incurable mob of low and bestial intelligences? -How many Americans, in thinking -of the low ebb of intellectual life here, ever -consider that a great deal of intellectual and -aesthetic interest and activity in this country, -among Americans of English descent, is smothered -and strangled by the popular pandering to -the appetites of an unassimilated mass of low -intelligences, only to be reached by coarse sensationalism -and vulgar prints?</p> - -<p>We are recommended to go to Europe for -aesthetic training. We could get along much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -better with a sturdy stock of native observers, if -we could only keep out the hordes of ignorant -and degraded savages that flock here from every -hell-hole in Europe, and then spread like a great -itch throughout the country.</p> - -<p>When one looks at the great blotches of ignorant -and inferior races which dot the map of the -United States in different industrial sections, one -wonders where and when an “American” literature -or “American” anything will come in. -Emigration is all right when it comes from the -right quarters, but the recent social history of -this country shows how it is absorbing the barbaric -scum of Europe.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Jonathan Penn.</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">DEPENDENCE.</h2></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="center"><span class="smcap">She.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Since thou hast come, dear heart, I live no more</div> -<div class="indent">Save in the hours when thou art by. Thy grave,</div> -<div class="indent">Full penetrating voice and speech I crave,</div> -<div class="verse">And all thy cares.... I wonder how before</div> -<div class="verse">This satisfied companionship I bore</div> -<div class="indent">The old dull days, for thou with marriage gave</div> -<div class="indent">So much! And yet,—bear with me, dear!—My brave</div> -<div class="verse">Heart seems defenceless now! Those days of yore</div> -<div class="indent">Full of ambitious dreams, beyond my reach</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Have vanished far. O love me! since the whole</div> -<div class="indent">Of life is narrowed down to this! and teach</div> -<div class="verse">Me willing subjugation, as years roll,—</div> -<div class="indent">Be more than lost ambitions I beseech,—</div> -<div class="verse">My lord and husband, since thou hast my soul!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="center"><span class="smcap">He.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Dear one, dost think thou art alone in this</div> -<div class="indent">Great overwhelming conflict of love’s might?</div> -<div class="indent">Dost think thou art dependent, and my right</div> -<div class="verse">Is subjugating thee? O sweet, the bliss</div> -<div class="verse">Of marriage lies beyond such talk as this!</div> -<div class="indent">True love is most dependent, and all right</div> -<div class="indent">Is yours as mine, since our supreme delight</div> -<div class="verse">Lies with each other; then let us not miss</div> -<div class="indent">The joy of this full time by hint of war,</div> -<div class="verse">Or agonize ourselves with distant fears,—</div> -<div class="indent">A truce to these misgivings! With such store</div> -<div class="verse">Of love we’ll front our happiness, that years</div> -<div class="indent">Will bring us compensations more and more.</div> -<div class="verse">I master? nay, a beggar,—see these tears!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><span class="smcap">John Armstrong.</span></div> -</div></div></div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">PARILEE’S DREAM.</h2></div> - - - -<p class="center">“Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in -dreams?”</p> - - -<p>Her husband turned on his pillow and looked -at her. She was asleep, and the smiles that -played over her features, now and again interrupted -by a look of gentle sadness, showed that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -she was dreaming. He was about to wake her, -but he hesitated to break in upon what he knew -must be a very sweet vision, and, keeping his -eyes upon her face, he awaited the end.</p> - -<p>They had been married two years. He had -come suddenly into her life, taking her away -from several admirers and out of a continuous -round of pleasure and excitement, and after a -short courtship they had wed. Parilee often -said to herself: “How much better off I am,” -and thought with satisfaction that instead of -being a silly and superficial girl she was a wife, -and at the head of a home. There had been -hardly a discord in their lives since the day of -their union; and Parilee believed she was quite -happy.</p> - -<p>As she lay there, her lips moved in the words, -“I love you,” and her face flushed so deeply that -her husband, doubting his eyes, speculated as -to whether she was really asleep.</p> - -<p>As the early light of the sun burst into the -room, she started up, thinking, “What a dream -for me!”</p> - -<p>At her old home she had wandered along by -the creek which ran through her father’s fields. -She had been in quest of something, but what -that something was she did not know; there -was a longing and a longing, very deep and sad. -Suddenly she had seen Tom Harding coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -toward her. Taking him by the hand, she had -led him to a large rock near, and they had both -sat down upon it. Then, in a trembling voice -she had said: “Tom, I’ve been seeking you such -a long time; I love you.”</p> - -<p>Looking at her searchingly and with tenderness, -Tom had replied, oh, so softly; “You love -me! I have long loved you, too”; and had -taken her in his arms and kissed her.</p> - -<p>“What were you dreaming about?” her husband -asked, as she stirred and opened her eyes; -“I saw you smiling in your sleep.” She did not -answer, but went over her dream again and -again, recalling every minute detail. Sweeter -sensations never lingered after a real kiss. She -revelled in memory as she looked out on the -morning sky and thought of Tom’s embrace.</p> - -<p>“Were you dreaming of me, Parilee?”</p> - -<p>She hesitated, thinking: “I can’t tell him of -my dream; it was not such a thing as a wife -would want to repeat to her husband. Perhaps -I ought to tell him, though. No, it will not be -best; he would be displeased. I would better -let him think that his surmise is correct than to -make him sad or jealous. Besides, I am not responsible -for what happens in my sleep. If the -dream had included a thought or recognition of -Harry, I should think that I was harboring improper -feelings. But it was only a dream.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>“Yes, Harry, I was dreaming of our old lover -days.”</p> - -<p>When her husband started for his office he -gave Parilee his accustomed farewell kiss. To -him it was the same as usual, but to her it -seemed slightly insipid; the dream kiss was still -upon her lips.</p> - -<p>“It is because we have been married so long; -I have grown used to him,” she reasoned when -left alone. “I love Harry, and always shall.” -Then she sat down by the window, looked far -away into space, and went over the dream again.</p> - -<p>“I wonder where Tom is now,” she questioned -in her thought. “Probably married by -this time.” A disagreeable feeling went to her -heart. “He loved me before I met Harry. -What changes time brings.” And she mused -on.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Olga Arnold.</span></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">THE NEW CIRCE.</h2></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">No islet-kingdom has this fair-haired one,</div> -<div class="verse">Of drugs no knowledge, philtres brews not she,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet many self-sure men has she undone</div> -<div class="verse">By her own ways of pleasant sorcery.</div> -<div class="verse">She whirls in no mad dances dervishly,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor with incantatory crooning charms</div> -<div class="verse">Her hapless slaves, who yet would not be free</div> -<div class="verse">While with a conq’ring smile she soothes, disarms,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Born of some slight neglect, their fears, doubts and alarms.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">She has no wand nor needs one. Her demesne</div> -<div class="verse">Is ev’ry drawing-room. A slender chair</div> -<div class="verse">Be-carved and gilt, her throne that any queen</div> -<div class="verse">Might wish to sit upon. About her there</div> -<div class="verse">They crowd, the subjects of this guileless fair,</div> -<div class="verse">Fain for the services she may commend;</div> -<div class="verse">Content forever the sweet bonds to wear,—</div> -<div class="verse">That even Egypt’s moly cannot rend,—</div> -<div class="verse">If she, though loving not, to love them will pretend.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><span class="smcap">Edward W. Barnard.</span></div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">BUBBLE AND SQUEAK.</h2></div> - - -<p>The great books teach us to smile at life.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The old proverb that there is nothing new -under the sun gives much latitude to dullards -and plagiarists, who are altogether destitute of -the fascination of a mood or manner. Egoism -is the last virtue of modern literature.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>It is not so much what a man says, but what -he looks, with women. It is the fantasy of -wickedness that flashes from eye to eye among -dumb clods that keeps poetry perennially in the -world.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>If the sun shone only upon the righteous, he -would not need to get up so early in the morning.</p> - -<p> </p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>I have my livelihood to earn, and consequently -I am an optimist.</p> - -<p> </p> -<p>There is something intellectually lacking in -all converts to brand new dogmas and creeds. -A deep sense of wickedness is but a phase of -immaturity of mind.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>A woman who is not at heart a tyrant in her -dreams of love is a perversion of nature.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>So far as can be learned at this distance, there -is only one industry in the new South which is -really in a flourishing condition, and that is the -unlimited production of abominable trashy “literature.”</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>If some half baked people would consent to -go to night school instead of covering endless -reams with horrible aberrations, the progress of -aesthetics would be more rapid in America. -Some people cannot realize that mere mellifluous -meanderings in verse or plain prose are -simply indications of an affection of the gray -matter, akin to a cold in the head, and are -of no more significance to the outside world -than the week’s washing.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The instability of all industrial and business -life in America is one of the horrors of existence -here, and it is one of the factors that make -culture impossible here. A nation on the jump -runs to “smartness” but not to intellect. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -is only one class in our society that enjoys stability, -and that is the Police. Whether we may -expect any aesthetic appreciation from this -quarter remains to be seen.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>“To amuse respectable people,” said Moliere, -“what a strange task.” And God was good -enough to allow Moliere to live and write for -the Court of Louis XIV. It is a great privilege -for a writer to know precisely the follies and -moods of his audience. Moliere himself showed -how much appreciation of wit and sanity can -be cultivated in a court of folly. But how -can the most assiduous student of human nature -gauge the vagaries of taste in a democracy? The -amusing of respectable, and other people, is the -wreck of imagination and authorship in this -happy land of Educational Eclipse. Here, all are -what is called “educated.” But how few care for -or know anything of that self education which -constitutes culture?</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The poor alone trust in Providence. The rich -own Providence.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p><span class="smcap">To Amaryllis</span>: As you did not enclose postage -for the return of your manuscript, I address -you through this medium. Your verses are -good enough from one point of view; but unfortunately -this is a Bibelot of Literature, and these -are picture-book verses. They are in the right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -key, though, for we have tried them on the office -cat with gratifying results. The cat was seized -with a fit of melancholy, and has not been out -for two nights. It will be a sin if you do not -send these potent poems to the editor of the -<i>Century</i> magazine.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The woman who has plenty of red blood corpuscles, -a body that is a body and not a poetic -wraith of the spirit, seems to be tumbling into -fiction nowadays. As the new heroine she is -rudely disturbing the reign of the pink and -white saints, expressly made in Paris dollhouses -for the heroines of English novels, who open -and close their eyes and smile in every chapter.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Educate yourself to tell little lies easily and -artistically, and the big ones will take care of -themselves.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The trouble with the Anglo-Saxon bourgeois -is they have no picturesqueness. They have an -abundance of vices, but no redeeming ones.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The majority of men are Christians and pagans, -Democrats and Republicans, princes and -paupers, and what not, first of all, and themselves -last of all—usually only in crises.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The salvation of stupidity in this world is that -the instinct of self-preservation has given it an -undisputed currency among the masses of men -as common-sense.</p> - -<p> </p> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>Democracy is the damnation of ideals. Old -John Calvin, if he were living and working out -his logic in the midst of modern life, would have -laid even greater distress upon total depravity -and the eternal damnation of the majority. That -is the only dream which can console us for the -dominion of the vulgar in this life; and, unfortunately, -there is no substantial logic or evidence -to support it. If instead of having lived -a quiet life in Geneva, in the sixteenth century, -Calvin were living to-day in the heart of New -York or Chicago, he would have made his theology -more terrible. The kernel of his doctrines -was evidently derived from the observation of human -society, and a career amid the brutality of -our modern cities would have left no room in his -creed for any compromises. The perseverance -of the saints is not in evidence in the cut-throat -scramble of modern life.</p> - -<p>This doctrine of damnation has always condoned -for me many of the intolerable narrownesses -in Calvinism. If it is probable that God -himself cannot contemplate an invasion of the -mob without trepidation, I cannot see what -argument can be made in support of democracy -in our social and intellectual life here below. I -envy all those who hold this doctrine of damnation -without any troublesome doubts. Calvin -had evidently fathomed human nature, even if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -he did not enjoy any special revelation of the life -hereafter.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>About the only woman whose novels I am -curious to read at this moment is Diana of the -Crossways. And her “Princess Egeria” and -the rest are out of reach forever.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Now here is a nice psychological point. A -very clever woman, who knows men and women -as only some wonderful women can, and who -yet has never written a novel, came to me the -other day, as to a Father Confessor of the -smaller sophistries of conscience, upon which -religion affords no certain light and assurance. -The point she wished to know was whether she -was a new woman or simply a harmless flirt of -the old school. As I could not decide this momentous -matter, I concluded to ventilate it in -print, suppressing the name of my friend. The -situation is this: She loves her husband with -all her heart, but yet she sometimes lacks the -moral courage to tell some men whom she meets -casually that she is a married woman.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>It does not seem to add to England’s glory to -appoint Uriah Heep to the job of court clown. -The old jesters made better sport.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>I sometimes wonder what peculiar influence -in their environment makes so many literary -critics attached to the editorial staff of periodicals,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -whose chief staple is some denominational -form of religious conviction, so offensively positive -and dogmatic. They are seldom troubled -with any judicial hesitations. They proclaim -their ipse dixits with a solemnity and excess of asseveration -and finality which is hideously funny -to the lay mind, that takes its own peculiar predilections -and distastes, with a shade of something -approximating good-natured tolerance of -the possible tastes of others. I think this critical -attitude of the religious Pontifex is largely -due to some profound mental and moral confusion. -He is so accustomed to dealing out fire -and brimstone and damnation with a callous and -easy conscience to all who differ with him in the -domain of religious belief, and especially to -those who occupy the agnostic and rational attitude -toward the eternal problems of life, that he -finally gets into the trick of using the thunder -of Jehovah for smaller offences and occasions.</p> - -<p>Here is a case in point. A solemn and inspired -lunatic writes, in the New York “Independent,” -of George Meredith, the greatest living writer in -the English speaking world, in this utterly mendacious -and injudicious fashion. “The most -elaborately feminine man in English literary -life.” “The Amazing Marriage” is then described -as “a crazy structure gorgeously decorated, -in which dwell nympholepts, aged satyrs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -erotic wives and foredoomed maidens, all moving -on to rainbow-hued destruction or jaundiced -delight.”</p> - -<p>This in a religious paper that makes a great -parade of its dignity, and is always finding fault -with the <i>honest opinions</i> of others, because they -are apt to be so <i>irreverent</i>, looks like that simple -and vulgar bid for pre-eminence in heresy, -which will always catch the greedy ears of the -envious and mediocre mob, that is glad to see -hateful superiority spattered with mud. I suppose -this view of the modern man of letters -who is inflexibly true to his aims and the dignity -of his calling, and who is, moreover, the -master of his craft, is to be attributed to the superintellectual -quality of the inspiration that directs -all organs of religious opinion.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>It is a little hard to understand the criticism -which hails the revival of the old familiar blood -and thunder fiction of our boyhood days as the -renaissance of genius in fiction. All this sort of -literature, whether wrapt in mediæval properties -or not, is fatally melodramatic and unreal, and -constitutes so much lumber and nothing else, -if it should remain in the memory. But as all -our picture periodicals and Sunday papers are -filled with nothing but blood and thunder stuff -from Stanley Weyman, Anthony Hope and the -rest, it is obviously the taste of the time. I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -meditating a new magazine on these popular -lines. It is to be called: “The Antique Renascence; -a Magazine of Pistol Shots and Rape.”</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>One of the metropolitan Sunday papers advertises -every week in triumphant and gigantic -capitals how many square miles of spruce forest -were converted into paper for the Sunday edition. -The number of square miles of forest that -is disappearing in this way is something appalling. -It seems to a few reactionary wits, unintoxicated -with the spectacle of this modern progress, -that sacrificing half a spruce forest to -make a Sunday paper is much worse than -butchering a little chain-gang of Christians to -make a Roman holiday.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>It is a simple death notice in the Boston <i>Evening -Events</i>, for February 2, 1896. It reads thus:</p> - -<p>“Miss Priscilla Prim, of 29976 Beacon street, -Boston, died suddenly of a severe mental shock -yesterday evening. Miss Prim was well known -as the possessor of a very large fortune, a philanthropist, -and a patron of the arts and all sorts -of moral reforms and missions, and her decease -will be mourned by all lovers of liberal culture.”</p> - -<p>She had just finished her supper, when a niece -from Chicago, who was stopping in her house, -to come out this season in the “smart set,” -handed her a copy of the February <span class="smcap">Fly Leaf</span>, -fresh and virgin from the press that evening.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -It contained some opinions which are regarded -as heterodox and impossible in “The Ladies’ -Own Humbug and Treasury of Misinformation.” -It appeared to lack reverence for the unsupported -tradition of “culture” that lingers in modern -materialistic, money-grubbing Boston, in -every well-regulated household, quite independently -of the fact that in thousands there is no -evidence of civilization in the shape of books, -ancient or modern. This flippancy is undoubtedly -immoral, and its heinousness may be judged -by its effect in this instance.</p> - -<p>Miss Prim was mad, indignant, furious, and -fumed at the mouth with the passion of her outraged -moral feelings. She sprang to her feet to -write a letter of protest to the editor of the -<i>Events</i>, when she stumbled over the only work -of literature in the establishment—it was Mrs. -Parloa’s Appledore Cookbook, by the way—and -falling face forward upon the floor, she expired -immediately of a severe bump and excess -of moral emotion.</p> - -<p>It is time the old fierce Puritanical spirit was -calmed in the blood of the hereditary Bostonians; -but the old generation dies glum and -hard, and will refuse Heaven if the Almighty is -so captious as to demand a sense of humor.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Mr. Chauncey M. Depew is reported to have -said that Fame depends entirely upon being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -civil to interviewers. English visitors should -remember this—and a few, who want to feather -their nests, are beginning to appreciate the wisdom -of our worldly sage. Conan Doyle and -Hall Caine have taken “the tip,” and have even -been quite civil and polite about American institutions -and social life since gaining their own -shores. This little simple art of glossing is one -the British should cultivate. They are at present -the most hateful people on earth. The world -is getting crowded now and they should endeavor -to become less obnoxious. English -celebrities can extend their fame with their -courtesies.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>A very pathetic and significant incident occurred -in one of the leading hotels of Boston -the other day. It is fraught with a warning for -the injudicious, that needs no additional emphasis -from me. But do not turn aside and -skip the paragraph because it has <i>a moral</i>!</p> - -<p>A well-known Temperance lecturer and social -reformer from Shebogan Falls, Arizona, who -was stopping at the house, was suddenly taken -violently sick, and showed unmistakable signs -of suffering from delirium tremens. The gentleman -had then been in the hotel for twenty-four -hours and he was known to have touched -no liquor. A search of his room and grip revealed -no intoxicants. The doctors called in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -were positive about the symptoms, and yet the -man’s breath contained no hint of alcohol. The -stomach pump afforded no more confirmation. -But he was in the throes of delirium tremens, -nevertheless, and the doctors were perplexed. -All sorts of elaborate theories of hereditary influences -were proposed and discussed, and the -man’s history and ancestry were looked up. -Suddenly he recovered, and an explanation was -soon forthcoming.</p> - -<p>A well thumbed and dismantled copy of the -<span class="smcap">Arena</span> magazine was discovered under his bed.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Those who are interested in the diffusion of -good literature among all classes in America, -should make themselves acquainted with the -publications of Thomas B. Mosher, of Portland, -Me. A good book in his list to put upon the -shelf, to begin with, is the beautifully bound -volume of the Bibelot for 1895. In making a -collection of belles-lettres, the authors and -books after all, who give most pleasure, one -provides a sure refuge always at hand for any -sudden invasion of the blues or ennui, and there -is solace here for weightier sorrows, too. For -the brave idealists condemned to struggle in -this alien world, who can still unpack their -minds of all sordid sorrows and bitterness and -carry merry and piping hearts to Arcady, are -surely not lacking in a profound philosophy—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -the philosophy which includes the life of -the philosopher is rare indeed.</p> - -<p>It is for this reason that the poets and fantastists -are closer to our moods through the changing -years than all other writers. When the historians, -philosophers and social prophets and -the rest find us indifferent and content to let -the world slide, when great names and ideals no -longer stir or move us, when experience has -disenchanted us with life and humanity, and so -stript history and philosophy and religion of all -significance, when all our enthusiasms are gone, -love is an exchange of domestic services for the -sake of economy, and friendship is a long laid -ghost of youth—then we can recur again and -again to the authors who turn our chimney corner -into that wider dominion of freedom the -human spirit can never quite relinquish in its -dreams. Fine spun logic and all the metaphysics -of the ages cannot bring us back to faith -and hope and charity then; but these few -blessed spirits who found their way to Arcady -occasionally, give us a spell of oblivion, if not -much philosophy, and often a pinch of fortitude -for our return to the doom of disenchantment.</p> - -<p>The republic of beauty is not an important -territory or marked very clearly on the current -maps of Democracy. But there are still some -who cherish the ancient boon of poetry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -and beauty, and such will appreciate a volume -like “The Bibelot,” filled with the literature -that blows through our foetid life like God’s -wind through a hospital. It is one of the few -books that cannot fail to hit the taste of any real -book lover. It contains selections from William -Blake, James Thomson, Francois Villon, a discourse -of Walter Pater’s on Marcus Aurelius, -Fragments from Sappho, Sonnets on English -Dramatic Poets, the Pathos of the Rose in -Poetry, extracts from Rossetti’s “Hand and -Soul,” Robert Louis Stevenson’s “A Lodging -for the Night: A Story of Villon,” and other -masterpieces of literature. It is a priceless -book for the poor student, for these selections -have been culled from scarce editions and -sources not generally accessible.</p> - -<p>If our young readers will read the Bibelot, -they may acquire the sense of beauty and power -of discrimination, and the taste for the best in -literature, old and new. They will then become -callous to the tawdry domestic twaddle that has -been circulated as “literature” in the respectable -domestic periodicals, for the past two decades, -in this country, and will learn to distinguish -genuine literature from mere merchandise. -Perhaps then it will be possible for sincere -and earnest work to find currency in books -in America, as it has not been since the popular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -picture periodicals took the place of books in our -breakneck economy.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Anthony Hope is one of the few authors of -the day honest enough to confess that he reads -very little. He is too busy writing. This is -one of the evils of the age. The writers outnumber -the readers. Every man or woman who -takes to writing is a reader lost, for writers -almost invariably only read and reread their -own works. But all authors are not as candid -as Anthony Hope.</p> -<p> </p> - -<p>That volume of lectures on “The Art of Making -a Newspaper,” which all “the bright young -men” in American journalism have been studying, -is marred with the omission of an important -historical matter. This is the origin and -career of Mr. Dana’s “office cat.” Charles A. -Dana is the most picturesque personality in contemporary -American public life. He is more -definitely in the popular imagination of this -generation than any man engaged in literature -proper, and so every characteristic detail and -whimsy of the “Sun’s” school of journalism -should be recorded for the benefit of posterity. -The “office cat” has played a great part in the -“Sun’s” art and artifice, and its omission is a -national catastrophe.</p> - - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Habakkuk Higginbotham.</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THE LONDON ACADEMY</h2></div> - -<blockquote> -<p class="center">The Leading Critical Literary Journal of London, -in a long review of “<span class="smcap">Meditations in -Motley</span>,” by <span class="smcap">Walter Blackburn Harte</span>, -says, among other things:</p></blockquote> - -<p>“When any book of good criticism comes it should be welcomed -and made known for the benefit of the persons who care -for such works. The book under notice is one of these. It is, -so far as I know, the first from the author’s pen; but his writings -are well known, and those who read his present book will, with -some eagerness, await its successor. For it is a book in which -wit and bright, if often satirical, humor are made the vehicle for -no flimsy affectations, but for genuine thought. Mr. Ruskin has -affirmed that the virtue of originality is not newness, but genuineness.</p> - -<p>“In this true sense Mr. Harte’s book is original. Here is -his own thought on several topics, pleasantly displayed, and no -mere echo or second-hand production of the ideas of others. If -Mr. Harte continues to act up to this sentiment, [a long quotation -from the book under consideration] as he does in the present -book, he may not achieve the triumph of twentieth editions, but -he will be a power for good—as every true man of letters is, and -must be in the world. If it were practicable I should be much -disposed to let the author recommend himself by giving copious -quotations from these essays. At his best—that is, in his most -characteristic and seemingly unconscious passages—he reminds -one of Montaigne; the charming inconsequence, the egotism free -from arrogance.”</p> - - - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Price in Handsome Cloth</span>, $1.25.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>For sale by all Booksellers, or sent Postpaid on receipt of<br /> -Price by the Publishers</i>,</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="xxlarge"><b>The Arena Publishing Co.</b></span></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">Economists and Politicians</h2></div> - - -<p>Talk and write of the waste of society and the waste of health -and the waste of luxury and poverty. But they never remark -upon the equally disastrous and wanton</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="xxlarge">WASTE OF WIT</span></p> - -<p>Which has for so long been the result of old-fogyism and timorous -commercialism in periodical Literature. If Statistics could -be compiled of the fine wits and humorists and writers of individual -talents and power whose brains and productions are -spoiled or altogether suppressed under the old regime of the -Popular Literature for the weak minded they would be appalling. -There is a ruthless waste of good wit in America, in behalf of -good dullness.</p> - - - -<p><span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span> aims to stem this tide of wasted wit. There -are ever so many clever writers in America, though they are -seldom heard of. These Younger Spirits are the backbone of -<span class="smcap">The Fly Leaf</span>, which will present the Best and most Individual -Literature of the Day—as much as can be squeezed into a -Bibelot.</p> - -<p>It is not quantity but quality we seek to provide. <span class="smcap">The Fly -Leaf</span> interests all cultivated Independent minds, which can -recognize “a good thing” at sight. It appeals to Thoughtful -and Bookish People, and it will never pander to the Mob that -buys its Literature by weight.</p> - -<p>Every issue is the most amusing and Unexpected little Bundle -of Surprises. It is the only Periodical in America that has -Wit to waste. Others have more Cash but no Wit.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="xxlarge"><b>THE FLY LEAF,</b></span><br /> -<span class="xlarge"><b>269 St. Botolph Street, Boston, Mass.</b></span></p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<p class="center"><span class="xlarge"><b>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</b></span></p> - - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Archaic or alternate spelling has been retained from the original.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Fly Leaf, No. 5, Vol. 1, April 1896, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLY LEAF, APRIL 1896 *** - -***** This file should be named 62763-h.htm or 62763-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/7/6/62763/ - -Produced by hekula03, David E. 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