the effect of temporarily frightening Mr. Skimpington-Brown, for it was at this time that he sent to the Society a letter in which he said that most influential people were willing to come forward and speak to his honesty and generosity.

It happened that another author had some idea of publishing a work with Mr. Skimpington-Brown. To this gentleman, whom he seemed to think might possibly prove a new victim, the worthy publisher mentioned the first author's book, and stated that he was bringing out a second edition of it, for which there was already a demand for nearly 3,000 copies! But the two authors were acquainted with each other, and this communication reached the first author. As he said, "the state of things is worse now than ever. As long as the book was practically unpublished, there was a chance of getting a new publisher for it; but if this man, having evidently no position, no capital, and, indeed, no right to the name of publisher, really keeps his hold on the book, it is a ruined work. He cannot, in fact, publish it himself, and yet he deprives the author of his chance of finding another publisher."

So it was determined that, at all events, the book must be got out of his hands, and that afterwards the possibility of making him disgorge some of the plunder must be considered.

The agreement was unstamped, that is, for practical purposes. It must be admitted that it had affixed to it a penny postage stamp. In it the publisher covenanted to "print, publish, and push(!) the book, and meet all demands up to 1,000 copies." This latter phrase alone would have put anyone of experience upon his guard. It is almost invariably the prelude to the following dodge for extortion. A large number of copies is named, say 10,000; then a correspondingly large figure is named as the publisher's risk, say £50. The author may feel that £50 is not much for 10,000 copies; more, he may ask some one who knows, and will be informed that the demand is not very exorbitant. So he pays it. Then only 100 copies are printed. The author objects. The other person says: "I never said I should produce 10,000 copies. No good publisher ever produces such large editions of new men's work. I said I would 'meet demands' up to that number. I have as yet not been asked for more than I have printed." But the author may say: "It did not cost you £50 to produce 100 copies." To which the other person may reply: "I never said it did.”

Only in one way had Mr. Skimpington-Brown contracted to do something definite. He said he would advertise up to £20. He was asked to produce vouchers for this sum. He then said that he had only advertised to the extent of £9, and that, of course, the surplus would be refunded.

TH

THE CHESTNUT BELL.

HE sound of the Chestnut Bell is now becoming rare in America; heard indeed as seldom as those of the Sunken City, commemorated by Rückert, which "peal once more their old melodious chime" but once or twice in a century, and then only to the Sunday child who is born to hear what is inaudible to the Philistine. But before the last kling of this extraordinary instrument dies away, it may be worth while to record its history, and give for the first time what is probably a true clue to its origin.

About four years ago Senator Jerome, of New York who, because of his immaculate life, admirable gravity, and personal resemblance to a famous picture by Murillo, has always been known as Saint Jerome was one day pouring forth in a speech a grand series of moral axioms, which, however admirable, "had not," as Heine says, "novelty for merit," when all at once Senator Riddleberger, of Virginia, the licensed clown, jester, and mischief maker of the Senate, called to a point of order. And on being asked what it was he replied: "Mr. Speaker, I want the Senator from New York to stop ringing that dd old Chestnut bell of his.”

The mot was new and it spread "like wildfire over the Union. Wherever the Frenchman of 1840 would have cried connu, the American roared Chestnut. If an orator uttered a truism-if any body dared to say "be virtuous and you will be happy"--"Chestnut!" was sure to be heard. Woe to the narrators of old Joes, for the nuts were cast at them, and they were abashed. Ere long the Chestnut Bell itself appeared. It was a small highly resonant apparatus of a tintinnabulistic or campanological nature, worn as an appendage to the button hole-it went with a spring, and its sound became a terror in the land. I am now in posses

sion of six different kinds of Chestnut Bells-none of them are loud, but all are of piercing, insulting, aggravating, tone. It has happened that even clergymen when using platitudes or dropping into cant, have been called to silence by the dreadful bell.

It is usual in the United States whenever a new slang term appears for all the minor literati of the press to at once invent its origin. Consequently there were innumerable anecdotes, every one more anthentic than the others, telling how and when the term Chestnut came into existence. Of these I have made a collection, with the result of distrusting them all. In such cases it is almost invariably "the oldest which is truest." The oldest in this case is Italian. In Northern Italy, especially in Florence, when a man would discredit or snub another, and intimate that what he says is untrue, or contemptible, or worn out, he puts his thumb between his fore and middle finger, and presents it. This is called making the Chestnut. Naples they call it la fica, or the fig, but the castagna or Chestnut is the most ancient term. All of the American origins confine themselves to the Chestnut, but say nothing of the bell. For the bell is the real object, "Chestnut " being only the adjective which qualifies it. This part of the problem is specially interesting.

In

The most remarkable of these knives which I have ever seen is in the possession of Miss Mary B. Reath, of Philadelphia. Another was in the great Art Exhibition at Munich in 1888. A third is in the Artists' Club of Munich. Whenever a member tells a doubtful or a worn-out or commonly known story, and tries to pass it off for new, some one rings the bell. All three bore inscriptions in old Bavarian which were, however, so peculiar and requiring so much explanation, that it is hardly worth while to give them here.

The ringing of the Liar's Bell is a kind of shutting off or condemnation, and as such is manifestly derived from the "bell, book, and candle," the form

VOL. I.

of excommunication of the Church of Rome, ending by closing the book against the offender, extinguishing the candle, and ringing the bell. ("Reliq. Antiq., i, 1, Gawaine and Gavin, 3023Halliwell.") Also to bear the bell, to carry off the prize, to be unsurpassed as a liar. For a bell, a whetstone, a knife, and, in America, a hat have here or there been substituted.

It is very strange that Friedrich in his "Symbolik der Natur," says of the chestnut that it is a type of the unchangeable, of the old which ever persists in remaining which is the very spirit of all that is hackneyed, "the reason for this being that its leaves femain so long unchanged." "And as

most races name their national fools from some popular dish, as Jack Pudding, in England; Hanswurst, in Germany; Pickle Herring, in Holland; Jean Potage, in France; so the Italians call a silly, stupid, would-be witty fellow a Marone, which is a large kind of chestnut." But the real ancient meaning of the nut is Beharrlichkeit, obstinate endurance, like that of an old story which holds its own for ever. Therefore the Greeks called it the Euböic acorn, and consecrated it to Jupiter, he being of all the gods the most unyielding.

It is also to be noted that the Greeks and Romans carried little silver bells, the tinkling of which drove away witchcraft and evil spells-which latter certainly include old Joe Millers, so well known to possess a kind of dire and intolerable fascination. I have a fac simile of one of these ancient chestnut bells, with its strange incantation, which I carry in my dressing case as a warning. I trust that the reader will not conclude, from what I have written, that I need it!

C. G. LELAND.

The Death of a Scholar.-"Come and see the difference there is between the powerful Rabbis of the Land of Israel and the pious Rabbis of Babylon. Resh Lakish made a funeral oration in honour of a certain disciple of the wise, and exclaimed, 'Alas! the Land of Israel has lost a great man!' Whereas Rabbi Nachman at Babylon declined delivering a funeral oration on a similar occasion; for, said he, 'What can I say more than Alas! a basketful of books is lost '?"-Talmud Megillah.

"I am wanting to address our young people, in response to their request, by way of a lecture upon the art of composition and the means essential to secure a forcible and interesting style of expression. I have thought that the only way by which I could add any considerable interest and usefulness to an evening's pleasant intercourse upon such a topic would be to secure, if at all possible, a personal testimony of the experience of one or two of our most skilful and honoured authors.

"To that end I have taken the very great liberty to write to you and solicit your generous help. May I be permitted to ask whether in early life you gave yourself to any special training with a view to the formation of style, and also whether you can give us any information of your own methods that would aid us to realize, in some degree at least, the secrets of your own great powers in the use of a clear and forcible English.

"I write to you because your finely conceived novels are cherished friends of my own, delightful companions which give me more pleasure than I can well say; and also because I feel in asking such a favour, that you must be so accustomed to people getting truly attached to you by reason of your beautiful stories, that you will very readily forgive the request even though you cannot grant it. if you are able to spare a few minutes to do me this kind service, I can assure you of the gratitude of many beside myself.

But

"Pray excuse this long letter, and if I am giving you any trouble, or ignorantly making an undue demand on your time, do more than forgive me, take no notice of me, and you will be appreciated and understood by

"Yours most faithfully and respectfully,
"GEORGE BAINTON."

"Mrs. Parr.

Now this was really a very polite and appreciative letter, and to it she returned a courteous answer.

It was nice to be considered among "one or two of the most skilful authors," and kindness of heart prompted her to assist a clergyman in his task of lecturing to his young people upon a subject that, like Ah Sin," he did not understand."

But in May, 1890, she received the following letter from her correspondent :

"DEAR MADAM,

"May 2, '90. "Some time since I wrote to you concerning a lecture I was about to give to a number of young men upon the art of composition, and asked your aid. You most generously responded to my appeal, and gave me the privilege of using your kind words of counsel and experience in the event of my being desirous to put the lecture into printed form. I thought you would like to see the extract from your letter thus incorporated into the lecture-a lecture I have expanded into book form and published through Messrs. Clarke & Co., Fleet St., under the title The Art of Authorship.' The little volume

now issued is simply the lecture amplified -matter growing under my hands until it far exceeded the limits of the pamphlet I at first intended.

"For your valued aid I again thank you most heartily, and am

"Mrs. Louisa Parr.

"Very faithfully yours,

"GEORGE BAINTON."

The author gave the Correspondence to this Society. She denies having given Mr. Bainton leave to print her letter, and considers that its appearance in a collection of letters headed "The Art of Authorship," and published as a book by Mr. Bainton, is a breach of faith.

On receiving these letters it was decided to investigate the case a little and to appeal to a few of our members, whose names were mentioned both in the book and in public advertisement as "personal contributors," and ascertain if they thought like

wise.

It will not be possible to print all the replies in full, but here are a few extracts :—

Mr. Alfred Austin says:

"I answered Mr. Bainton's enquiries concerning how I formed my style, from motives of courtesy and good nature, and I hear of the use he has made of what I wrote with surprise and regret."

Mr. Hall Caine :

Of

"The man wrote to me to say that he was about to lecture on style to his young men, who were enthusiastic readers of mine, etc., etc., and would take it as an honour, etc., if I would write them a letter on my personal aims and endeavours, early efforts, etc., with much of the same sort. course I was drawn by the silly subterfuge, and when, some time later, a second letter asked for permission to print my answer in a pamphlet that was to contain the text of the lecture,' I was once more made victim. It was not until the book appeared that I realized that the man had

written to everybody, that his 'young men' were all fudge, that the book was the thing, and that, thanks to the folly of folks like myself, he had got it cheap."

Here it becomes evident that, at any rate to novelists, Mr. Bainton employed an almost invariable form-the letter, in fact, which we began by quoting. For Mr. Grant Allen, Mr. R. D. Blackmore, Mrs. Lovett Cameron, Mr. W. S. Gilbert, Mr. Rider Haggard, Mrs. Kennard, Mr. George Meredith, Miss F. M. Peard, Mr. F. W. Robinson, John Strange Winter, Mr. Edmund Yates, and Miss Charlotte Yonge all were ignorant that Mr. Bainton intended to print their remarks; all believed that their assistance was being asked by a clergyman and a stranger for his young people, and none had an idea that they were being victimised by a circular letter.

This simplicity is the more excusable that in the specimens before us as we write, Mr. Bainton distinctly says he is applying to "one or two" authors. Unless one knows him personally beforehand, how is the ordinary gentleman, how is the ordinary lady, to have an idea that by this statement Mr. Bainton may mean one or two hundred authors?

Space will not allow that we should print more than brief extracts from these authors' letters.

Mr. Rider Haggard says:

"Some years ago Mr. Bainton, or some person, wrote to me saying he was going to give a lecture, and asked my opinion on certain literary matters. I replied, and, if my memory serves me, stipulated that if he printed anything, I should have a proof. The other day I received a printed slip, which I took for and corrected as a proof. On further examination of covering letter, however, I found it was an extract from a printed book forwarded for my perusal.

"I think it quite unjustifiable that matter obtained for one purpose should be used for another without reference to its author."

Mr. Bainton does appear in Mr. Rider Haggard's case to have gone through the form of obtaining permission to print his remarks, although he disregarded the stipulation that his request evoked. But in some cases he appears to have gone more directly to work.

Mr. George Meredith says:

"I received a letter some weeks back from Mr. Bainton, enclosing two printed pages of his book, with his thanks to me for my kind permission' that he might make public use of my private remarks to his young men, through him, at his request, upon

styles in writing. I am not aware of having even granted the permission. It would not have been in accord with a system I hold to-which is, to spare the public any talk upon my methods and doings. If I wrote the words of the grant, I must have done so heedlessly, and I shall require to see them in my handwriting, before I can attach any belief to the statement made by Mr. Bainton. The one object of my writing, was to be of service to an audience that he, a stranger to me, wrote of as being hungry for literary instruction.'"

Mr. George Meredith is not singular in his belief that, albeit Mr. Bainton says so, he never received any permission.

Miss Charlotte Yonge believes the same. So does Professor Huxley. Miss F. M. Peard writes :—

"I am more surprised and annoyed than I can say at hearing of the use Mr. Bainton has made of my answer. I imagined him to be a clergyman. rather at his wits' ends for subjects for parish entertainments or lectures, and that he was merely It did not getting up the subject in the abstract.

even occur to me that he would use my name in talking about it, much less that he would drag it into print. You will see that he speaks of 'an evening's pleasant intercourse.""

Miss Peard encloses Mr. Bainton's first-and only-letter to her, which is almost the exact counterpart of his letter to Mrs. Parr. Miss Peard, like Mrs. Parr, is one out of "one or two," and she also is appealed to because her books are Mr. Bainton's cherished friends. Mr. Bainton is evidently a man of lively sympathies.

Mr. Grant Allen says:

"I was not aware Mr. Bainton meant to publish in book form. Mr. Bainton only mentioned that he wished for the information for an apparently private lecture to young people. I was much annoyed at the use Mr. Bainton made of my letter (which he printed incorrectly). The details I gave were far more personal than I should have dreamt of making them had I expected them to be published. What is perfectly allowable in answer to a private question about one's own methods may seem like impertinence and bad taste if obtruded on the general public, which never asked to know how one writes one's books or articles."

Mr. R. D. Blackmore writes:

"When I complied with Mr. Bainton's request I was not aware that he intended to publish or even print my words. His letter suggested that he wanted aid in a lecture to young people and would use my

reply for that purpose, and (as I naturally concluded) for that purpose only. Now that I know the nature of Mr. Bainton's book I do object to the use he has made of a reply procured through the goodwill due to a clergyman and for clerical purposes."

Mr. W. S. Gilbert writes :

"When I complied with Mr. Bainton's request I was not aware that it was that gentleman's intention to publish my letter in book form. His first letter

to me suggested that he wanted aid in compiling a lecture. I consider that he was not justified in publishing my letter without my express permission. His action appears to me to amount to a breach of faith."

Mrs. Lovett-Cameron says:—

"I certainly had not the smallest idea that he intended to publish the letter which I wrote to him. He informed me that he was about to give a lecture to young people, and I understood most clearly that it was for this purpose alone that my letter would be made use of. I do most strongly object to the use he has made of my letter, and consider that in publishing letters written to him for private use only Mr. Bainton is guilty of a most unwarrantable breach of faith."

On the other hand, the Bishop of Carlisle, Mr. Thomas Hardy, and Sir John Lubbock have no objection to the use Mr. Bainton has made of their letters, while Mr. T. Marion Crawford writes as follows:

"Two or three years ago Mr. Bainton wrote requesting me to give him an expression of my opinions in regard to the course to be followed by beginners, who would acquire some practical skill in the use of the English language. I believe that was the substance of his letter. Mr. Bainton stated clearly that he wished to make use of my answer in lecturing to young people.

"I complied with his request and wrote at some length. I said that I would prefer my letter not to be printed. Mr. Bainton wrote again to thank me, but added, that if I would not consent to his printing the matter, it could be of little service to him. I then replied that since he so much desired it, he might make any use he pleased of my communication. The correspondence ended, and I considered Mr. Bainton at liberty to print the whole, parts, or a part of what I had written. I now learn for the first time that he has published a book, and I infer that something of mine has appeared in it. I do not consider myself in any way aggrieved, as Mr. Bainton's conduct towards me was perfectly frank and consistent throughout."

But Mr. Marion Crawford has been better used than many of Mr. Bainton's contributors.

It may seem that we have gone into this matter at more length than the circumstances warranted. As long as ladies and gentlemen are so far polite that when they receive a letter, made to bear all the stamp of a private letter in contradistinction to a circular, they answer it, and so far charitable that, when they are told a thing by a person they know nothing of, they accept his statement, so long will ladies and gentlemen be victims.

SIR,

To the Editor of THE AUTHOR.

When I sent Mr. Bainton the letter published in his book, I was not aware that it would ever be printed. He wrote to me in September last, saying that he wished to address "our young people upon the art of composition, and he had thought that it would add "considerable interest and usefulness to an evening's pleasant intercourse" on such a topic, if a few authors would give him their personal experiences in acquiring their respective styles.

It will be obvious to anyone, from the composition of my letter, that I had no thought of my words being used verbatim. Some time afterwards he wrote asking if he might make use of some parts of my letter in a pamphlet in which he proposed to preserve his lecture, and I gave him permission to do so.

I cannot say that I particularly object to the use he has made of it, though I do not think it was quite fair to issue the opinions of authors in bookform, after winning their confidences for a benevolent purpose; but I do most utterly and strongly condemn the great discourtesy of issuing such a book without sending proofs of the matter to each author (and I know one author of high standing whose permission to print Mr. Bainton did not trouble to ask for at all). I think far more of that than I do of his having picked our foolish brains to make profit for himself.

In my own case, probably a glance at proof sheets would have caused me to amplify one of my statements that when I was a very young writer "I found myself slipping into the Rhoda Broughton school"-in such a way as to give a would-be witty reviewer less chance of misrepresenting my meaning and making merry over my comprehensive phrase.

For myself I would be the last to discuss criticism, however flippant or unjust; but as Miss Broughton may have seen the much-quoted article, and perhaps have felt some annoyance through reading my meaning with the writer's eyes, may I say here that I meant no disrespect for the strong, vigorous, and fascinating author, whose books have always