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THE AUTHOR.

letters, who is the Chairman of this Society, to propose this evening the toast of "Literature, Science, and Art," my first impression was that it would be difficult for any man, and for me well nigh impossible, to rise to the height of so great a task; but on further reflection it occurred to me that perhaps I was taking the toast, and myself as well, a little too seriously, and I remembered that in days less decorous, but perhaps more convivial than these, there invariably appeared in the programme of a festive evening the toast "Our noble selves." Well, sir, in an assembly consisting for the most part of men of letters, of men of science, and of artists, what after all is the toast of "Literature, Science, and Art," but the ancient toast "Our noble selves"? So far as science and art are concerned, I almost think that toast is superfluous. Science certainly has received abundant homage in this way: it has been hailed, justly no doubt as the master of the modern world, and art too it seems to me, still enjoys the favour of princes, and the deference and adulation of critics. But I feel sure that literature stands in poorer case. Whatever we men of letters may think of ourselves, I fancy the present age of us, most people in the present generation it thinks very little seems to me, being of opinion that the writing of great works is a thing no longer worth doing, or that writing is a thing that anybody can do. In the face of such an attitude towards letters, is it not natural, nay indeed, is it not necessary to ask ourselves the question-What is literature? the moment we propound that question we find But ourselves confronted by two principles, two opinions, that are a little hard to reconcile. whatever people may choose to write and publish, Is literature or is it that finer breadth of knowledge, that finer spirit of thought, that finer form of expression, which, as we all know, is the secret of only a minority of those who write? In a word, is literature something refined, elevated, fastidiousallow me the word exclusive-or is it on the other hand something broad, comprehensive, familiar, and in which anyone, if so he chooses, may share? The man who in these days seeks to be the champion of exclusiveness, or indeed of superiority in any form, sets himself a difficult, an invidious, and certainly a most unpopular task. Yet in an assembly like this-an assembly consisting of men who are proud of literature, proud of being men of letters, and to whom the only patent of nobility that they would think of for a moment, is literary distinction-perhaps I may be allowed to add, in which, so far as I can observe, any belief in any other form of aristocracy, is well nigh dead—it may still be desirable to maintain an aristocracy; it may be a natural, but withal a recognisable aristocracy

of letters. Of course, by "aristocracy," I mean the influence and recognition of what is best, and I think that in this age an aristocracy of letters might well be maintained. But, sir, if it is to be maintained, is it not the fact that it must be imbued with a deep reverence for tradition. position we men of letters may occupy in the Whatever present age, we at least have had great ancestors, and the greatness of those ancestors, it seems to me, compels us in our turn, whether we succeed or they will reproach us if we fail to do so. whether we fail, at any rate to try to be great, or was it that made the distinction of those ancestors? But what Surely it was the manner in which they presented their thoughts, the methods by which those great writers contrived to insinuate their thoughts at once, and to make them abide for ever in the minds of men. In a word it was the style, style, which is the most aristocratic of all things, because it implies absolute self-respect on the part of the writer, and a most perfect consideration and deference for those whom he addresses; surely without style, before these days, no one would have supposed that there could have been such a thing as literature at all. Nevertheless, I suppose we shall all be of opinion that even the claims of style may be pressed too far. Everything in this world most readily and most rapidly tend to degeneration and to decay, and it is conceivable that a select class of writers, animated by a passionate attachment to style, may end by caring for nothing else.

Now, substance without form is better than form without substance; and is it not possible that in our search for that harmony, that common ground, going comprehensiveness on the one side, and of which I spoke, between the champions of easy regard to literature, is it not possible that we may fastidious exclusiveness on the other side, with now have come upon that very thing of which we are in search? The barbarians destroyed the Roman Empire, but in that very act they renovated the world and sowed the seeds even on the fields they devastated, of the love of literature in the future. And may we not be seeing at this moment something akin-something analogous? I think the masters of style whom I see around me to-night will concur in the observation that in this age there has been a tremendous irruption of barbarians into them should you not receive them with open arms? the domain of literature; but instead of reviling They bring with them I suppose the modern spirit. Their baggage may be sometimes rude and occasionally perhaps a trifle scanty; but at any rate it is new and it is their own. Nor do I think there is any fear of their overwhelming you, the masters permanently nor for ever keep back from mankind of style. At any rate they will not overwhelm you

that in you which deserves to be perpetuated and when the fear of their onset, the onset of these barbarians, has passed away, style, like Shelley's cloud, will "silently laugh at its own cenotaph," and changing, but never dying, will arise after a time and re-assert its perpetual fascination.

Therefore I am sure I shall most faithfully carry out your behests if in proposing the toast of "Literature, Science, and Art," I regard literature in no narrow spirit, but in the broadest possible signification, heartily sympathising with all those, whether they may be masters or apprentices, whether poets or novelists, historians or artists, dramatists or journalists, who aspire to be regarded as men of letters.

Many of us are of opinion that the state of English Society with its infinite variety and easy, endless gradations, is the most satisfactory, as assuredly it is the most natural that the world has ever seen. And is not this infinite variety—are not these easy, endless, elastic gradations represented in literature? It is no question of high and low; it is no question of superior and inferior; it is only a heterogeneous but harmonious company, animated by a common animation, and marching on to a common end under the banner of a generous brotherhood.

And here, sir, I think I might cease to occupy your attention, were it not that I find that in this toast science and art are coupled with literature, and I should gladly testify, however inadequately, to the close kinship which subsists between literature and science, and between science and art.

Many persons in these days have expressed grave anxiety lest science, with its hard-headed temper and practical spirit, should prove to be the enemy of literature. Surely, sir, there never was a more idle or more unfounded fear. Astronomy, I suppose, is the oldest of the sciences; but surely the definite and helpful discoveries of Kepler and Copernicus, or of Newton and Galileo, have in no degree diminished the magic and mystery of the stars. But there is a still more helpful relation between science and literature. It is more than 250 years since Harvey published his celebrated treatise on the circulation of the blood, but I suppose that neither lovers nor men of letters discourse less effectively or less fervently about the heart than they did in days of old when Helen was killed, or Dido was abandoned.

With regard to the connection between literature and art, I prefer that Professor Conway should discourse upon that subject. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, I propose to you the toast of "Literature, Science, and Art," coupled with the names of Professor Hales, Professor Erichsen, and Professor Conway. (Cheers.)

Professor Hales: Professor Jebb, ladies and gentlemen, at this late hour of the night I will not waste your time. Though I am sorry that no more worthy name than my own could be selected to respond to this toast, I thank you sincerely for the honour you have done me. One thing strikes me forcibly, however. I can imagine the amazement with which the authors of the last century would have contemplated such a sight as we are witnessing here to-night, downright regular authors dining in state as we are dining this evening. (Laughter.)

Professor John Eric Erichsen: Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen, when the history of the nineteenth century comes to be written, the future Lecky of another generation will have the task before him of endeavouring to show the great and deep influence that science has exercised during the Victorian age, and not in its academic, or so to speak, its scientific relations alone, but in all that concerns the improvement of the social conditions and the well-being of man, and in much that concerns the political and international relations of the civilized communities of the world. Every century is an epoch or presents an epoch peculiarly characteristic of itself in which some dominant method of thought has found expression and has influenced the feelings and the work of mankind; and one may truly say that science in the nineteenth century governs that expression. If we compare the position of science as it was in the first decade of this century with that which it now occupies in the last decade, we cannot but be struck with the enormous progress that it has made and the enormous influence that it is exercising upon all classes and all conditions of the community. If we look back to what natural and applied science was in the earliest period of this century-in the first decade of this century-and compare it with what it is now, we shall be struck with this enormous difference we shall see that in the early period of this century what is called Natural History or Zoology was really nothing but a description of animals, the collection of stuffed beasts, the classification of plants, and the giving, as it was somewhat cynically termed, of "barbaric names to worthless weeds," we shall find that more than half a century had to elapse before that great doctrine of evolution which has exercised so deep an impression, not only upon the scientific, but on the philosophic and religious thought of this generation had been put forward by Darwin. If we look at the other natural sciences, and I shall not attempt to lead you through them-we shall find the same remarkable fact that chemistry, which was only getting into the position of a science under the guidance of Davy and Wollaston,

has now become not the handmaiden but the master of every technical art, of every manufacture, and has contributed largely to the comfort and happiness of mankind. We shall find if we look back to physical science, greatly advanced as it was, that the professors of it had not the remotest conception of the enormous strides it was destined to take in days antecedent to railways and locomotives-still more was it impossible, in the wildest dreams of science, to think of locomotives not only running along a level plane but ascending mountain sides, tunnelling through Alpine chains for many miles, carried aloft on gigantic structures many hundred feet high above arms of the sea, and founded upon bases that were buried a hundred feet below the surface of the tide. If we look to the other sciences, to electricity, for instance, which at that period was simply a toy to amuse schoolboys, or to instruct the audiences of mechanics' institutes, we find now, beating gas as an illuminant, that other great power which has been created almost within our own time, that it has in the electric telegraph connection in every part of the world, that by telephone it conveys, not only the voice, but the very tones of that voice, to a distance of hundreds of miles, that by the phonograph it records on almost indelible tablets the accents in which those words were spoken. And if we go to other departments of Science-to that with which I am the most conversant-we shall find that by those inestimable chemical agencies pain has been rendered a thing of the past, that surgery has been deprived of its terrors, that procedures which appalled the stoutest, the most heroic breast, are now submitted to by the most timid person with complacency and without a murmur. These great triumphs of science are enduring; they are permanent, and can never be lost to mankind. There is no such thing as retrogression in science; science never moves in circles, but ever in advance; year after year some fresh position is conquered, often it is true, after a hot conflict, though happily not a sanguinary one; and once having been obtained, it is never lost. There is no finality in science. Art may be final-it may be final, if not in its conception, at all events in its perfection; but science is illimitable alike in its conception and in its execution. What our ancestors knew we well know, and we know much more than they did. What they could do we can accomplish, and more -more than they ever dreamed of accomplishing. The same will be the case with our successors undoubtedly. They will stand in the same relation to us that we now stand in in regard to our predecessors.

Great as the triumphs of science have been, there are yet, in all probability, greater triumphs still in

store for science. Any day may bring forth a discovery that may revolutionize the world. We are ever on the threshold, as it were, looking over boundless plains of research, great fields of knowledge which may yield most fruitful results. Whatever may happen in the future, if we may judge from the past, we may be sure that nothing but benefit from science will accrue to mankindthat his social condition will be improved, that his intellectual status will be raised, and that he will have a wider horizon of knowledge constantly spreading before him in the field of science. (Cheers.)

Professor Conway: Ladies and gentlemen, I will only detain you for one moment, and during that moment I will express my astonishment at "Art" having been included in this toast. I have been debating in my own mind during the course of dinner for what reason it has been done, and it was not until I heard the words of the Chairman with reference to the art of publishing that I understood why art should be included in our toast list. Unfortunately, I am no representative of that art. The only art I know is the art of listening, and I hoped that I should not have been called upon for an after-dinner speech.

Professor Michael Foster (in the absence of Mr. George Augustus Sala) then proposed the toast of "The Guests." He said: Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen, I am very sorry-it is not necessary for me to say that I am not George Augustus Sala. Why George Augustus Sala is not here and where he may be at the present moment I do not know; but I am very sorry that he is not heresorry for those whose health he was about to propose, sorry for those who were about to listen to him, and sorrowing still more for myself who have to put my diminutive feet into his somewhat roomy shoes. (Laughter.) Who I am does not, I think, concern you to know; it is sufficient to say that I belong to a large class, to those who cannot say "no" when Walter Besant asks you to do a thing, and I do it under circumstances of great difficulty. Just before dinner in the room down below, when we were expecting the time when the clock would strike half-past seven precisely, I was talking to one of our distinguished members, and he drew the conversation towards speeches after dinner, and I thought then that I had no speech before me. I do not like to quote his exact words-in my scientific memoirs I always quote the exact words of authors in this assembly I feel a diffidence in doing so, but I will give you the effect, and it was that instructive speeches after dinner are detestable. Now I must unfortunately, be instructive, because I have to propose to you "The Guests," and although they are known to all the world they are

not all of them known to all of you. In the first place, there is Mr. Gilzean Reid, who is the President of the Institute of Journalists, which is a kindred Institution with similar aims and identical objects. If that is so Mr. Gilzean Reid is not a guest but a brother. Then there is the German Society of Authors, represented by Herr Brand, who has already been referred to by the Chairman, and on the principle that bis dat qui cito dat and therefore qui bis dat cito dat, the toast will get to him all the earlier if I ask you to repeat what has been said. Then we come to a whole group which, in the instructions that Mr. Walter Besant has kindly given me, is spoken of as our American friends, and here again I must commit an act of reduplication. The first name I have to mention is that of Mr. Geo. Haven Putnam, the greatest friend of American Copyright. I have further to mention Mr. Harry Harvey, who is well known all over America—and perhaps I might venture to say in the obscure little island of England-as Sydney Scott. Then there is Mr. Bailey Aldrich, an American poet, whom an English poet dares to welcome as his guest. Lastly there is Mrs. Chandler Moulton, the American poetess, with whose poems all of us are familiar. Then I come to one of whom, perhaps, though she is last is not least. Arriving at King's Cross this afternoon I had an opportunity of a hurried word with a lady who is not distantly connected with your Chairman. I spoke to her of the interest attaching to ladies dining in public with gentlemen. She said she always thought that ladies were in the way; she then rushed into a cab before I had time to say that that way was in all cases a shining way. But perhaps Walter Besant will allow me to say that with all respect for the great deeds that you have done of late, I am inclined to think that the great work of this Society of Authors has been that they have instituted the practice of ladies dining in public with gentlemen. (Applause.) I do not know how the ladies have stood the severe baptism of smoke, as my friend near me calls it, to which they have been subjected; but I trust that in spite of that and in spite of the speeches to which they have listened and to which they are listening, they have passed a pleasant evening. (Hear, hear.)

Ladies and gentlemen, I propose to you "Our Guests," mentioning particularly the names of Mr. Gilzean Reid, the President of the Institute of Journalists, Herr Brand, and Mr. George Haven Putnam. (Cheering.)

Mr. Gilzean Reid: Mr. Chairman, Professor Foster, ladies and gentlemen, I can assure you that I shall not occupy your attention very long. A friend has reminded me that this is only the three hundred and thirty-ninth time that I have responded

And

to the toast of the Institute of Journalists, and you may rest assured that I am as anxious to get rid of it as you are to get rid of me. I must protest against being classed as a guest. I may claim in one respect to be an author, as I wrote a book which had a circulation of 1,400, which was sold to the public at 6s., and which brought me the handsome recompense of £2 12s. 3d. I also wrote another book which had a circulation of 100,000, and which never brought me a farthing profit. therefore I think I can claim to be one of yourselves. We have not present here to-night George Augustus Sala, and I always feel that a meeting of literary men is defective without his genial sparkling picturesque personality, which has added lustre to a great profession. (Hear, hear.) Let me say we, the Institute of Journalists, are entirely in sympathy with the Society of Authors, and you may rest assured that we shall continue, as we have been doing, to work together for common and beneficial ends. There are many common ends to which we can co-operate, and to which we have co-operated with this Society of Authors in seeking to promote an equitable distribution of the property in literature, and we have agreed to cooperate in trying to establish an equitable international scheme of copyright, and I hope we journalists shall also co-operate in exposing those publishers-for a few still remain-who, whether they be artists or not, know something about being artful dodgers. (Laughter.)

Let me say that our Institute has made considerable progress. A few years ago we had only a handful of members; to-day we have between two and three thousand; and I can fairly say that our membership represents nearly all that is best and certainly all that is thoroughly representative in Journalism. A friend has hinted here that the times have changed. In the days of Queen Anne Acts were introduced to restrain and repress and tax newspapers. The press of the country was even then becoming too powerful for the powers that were. But a great change has taken place since that time.

Within the last few months another monarch, good Queen Victoria, has given the journalists of the Empire a royal charter, which enables them to define their position, to secure privileges, and to establish a scheme of administration and education; and we shall work on as we have worked with this Society of Authors, and other kindred institutions, so that we may establish that which will be in truth a real and healthy brotherhood of the pencil and the pen. (Cheers.)

Herr Brand: Ladies and gentlemen, I beg to thank you for inviting me to this charming assembly to-night. I shall not fail to report it in the proper quarters, hoping that if any of you were ever to come

THE AUTHOR.

to our assemblies, you would be made to feel welcome in the very heartiest manner as we have been made to feel welcome amongst you here to-night. I am afraid we could not offer you such a splendid banquet, but we would try to make up for that in the extension of our festivities. Our annual assembly actually extends over three whole days and part of the night as well. (Laughter.) It is chiefly devoted to the transaction of the business of the Society, but still there remains some time left, as there was last summer in Frankfort-on-the-Maine, for a festival performance at the Opera one night; for an excursion to the Rhine; for an excursion to Wiesbaden, and for a few other entertainments. With those exceptions the time was strictly devoted to business. This summer, next month, the gathering will take place at Breslau, and if any of those present here to-night should be there, we shall offer them a hearty welcome. (Cheers.)

Mr. George Haven Putnam: If I remember my Scriptures, directly Daniel was able to get safely out of the Den of Lions he made a speech; but I do not think he was asked to make a speech before he got out. (Laughter.) I am conscious of being a publisher; however, I am not come here to speak these words to-night in the rôle of a publisher; but only because my business happens to be associated with international copyright. associated trades of authors and publishers of the On behalf of the United States, who have been doing very hard work under circumstances of some little discouragement and difficulty, I have to express to this Society that it is their fixed intention to carry on that work with the hope that in the future international copyright will be put in a proper position of solidarity, and that the relations of authors and publishers will be put on a proper footing. I need only say with regard to the work already done, and in connection with the discouraging vote in the House of Representatives a few weeks back, a great deal has been done in the United States.

As you

Englishmen know, we have used English books very largely during the last century, and not paid for them. A great many of the States have instructed their representatives to vote in behalf of authors, both English and American, and the middle States, and the greater portion of the States of the North West, voted solidly in support of that Bill. So that we have won over communities, and the work of winning over communities will still go on, and will not be so long a task as people here dreaded. I look forward to the day when all these difficulties between authors and publishers will be settled on a mutually remunerative basis. soon I expect have an association of their own, and Publishers will we shall hear of the grievances of publishers against authors, and we shall then have our own organs on

the other side. But these are practically, as between honest publishers and honest authors, matters of detail. I look forward to the day when authors all over the world will be receiving the highest remuneration. Then authors will become princes of finance, as well as princes of literature.

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Mr. Oscar Wilde: Ladies and gentlemen, I confess that I am of opinion that in the case of authors while speech is silver, writing is gold, and that on the whole those of us, who claim at all the distinction of being men of letters, should not get up after dinner and make serious speeches, except for the purpose, so necessary in a great religious country like England, of conveying in a of eternity. But on the other hand when I was certain popular manner the sense of the tediousness invited by the Committee of this Society to propose the health of our Chairman this evening, I felt that no incorporated author could attempt to draw back. This is, ladies and gentlemen, our third banquet. We had first Mr. Bryce, and I think it was a privilege to us to have as guest on that occasion a man so loved and so honoured country in the world, as Mr. J. Russell Lowell. amongst the people of the largest English-speaking culture, and one whose name being so intimately Lord Pembroke, an author and a connected with English literature, going back indeed to Elizabethan days, conferred distinction upon our Society. And to-night we have to welcome as our Chairman Professor Richard Claverhouse Jebb, who is known, not merely in England, but certainly in Germany, France and Holland, and everywhere where Greek and Latin literature is read, as a scholar and a man of letters. (Cheers.) I must confess, sir, if you will allow me to address yourself to the wide sphere of University life, have you personally, that I think that you, in confining chosen the better part. The man of letters, on the whole, should live in a University and with University surroundings. We have constantly before us the irresistible temptations of modern life, and now and then a dreadful rumour appears in the papers that many of our most popular writers are tempted to abandon literature for other things. I remember the pang that shot through many of us when we read in the Times one morning that Mr. Walter Besant was going to become a member of the County Council. Subsequently there appeared a statement that Mr. Rider Haggard, desiring to find a fuller scope for the mendacity of Allan Quatermain, intended to seek distraction on a political platform, and that charming and graceful joined the minority in the House of Commons. writer, the author of "Obiter Dicta," has lately Yes, sir, you have chosen the better part. scholar a man of letters--should not live in

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