The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 11, 1895, Page 17

THE SAN FRANCIL s i) 1, bt | Re_aders of THE CaLy, and in fact all who | are inferested in the future of this State, | will have read with much mterest Joaquin Miller's two stories, ‘‘Colonel Short of nity Center” and “Colonel Short a| Little Longer.” These tales, the latter of | which was published last Sunday, had much to recommend them to all true Cali- fornians. Their pathos, that wonderful | power to move which they exhibited, and, withal, the underlying vein of humor which ran through them—all these ren- dered them acceptable to the general reader. But there is one idea apparent in the writings of the poet of the Sierras, “which appeals, more than anything else, o the resident of this State. It is evident that Joaquin Miller, with the true instinct | of the poet, foreseesand prophesiesan exo- | dus from our towns and cities to the free | life of mountain and forest. He believes | that Mother Earth is the owner of as much more gold as she has yet given up to man, her son. The poet, in his writings, seems to breathe an earnest prayer that the time of the hegira may not be far distant, when the sturdy miners, like the “boys” of Colonel Strong's time ‘“will not despise what the best people of Europe consider the first adjunct of a true gentleman—‘a home out of town.” "’ Miss Adeline Knapp is known to readers of TuE CaLL as a contributor of thought- ful articles to the Sunday edition of this paper. She is also the author of many of the book reviews published in this depart- ment. That she is appreciated away from home is evidenced by an editorial in the current number of the Arena, probably the foremost magazine of the world in the di cussion of social affairs. Over his own sig- nature Editor B. O. Flower writes: It is now my pleasant duty to notice a vol- ished, written by a young author lieve, is destined 1o o e our literature: a versa d er who belongs to the noble coterie which marches under the banner of Truth and Progress. The name of Miss e Knapp is by no means unfamiliar to readers. Who among the thousands who read the sketch, 2 forgotten t? Th Ref : the Arena that I desire to speak at the pre: In her new book, “One Thousand a Day, and Other Social Sketches,” ion of nt 0l- we the day, no less than no author. Few people can write interesting, vig- orous and know of mc American writer who has ap- proached Miss Knapp in this field “The Sick Man” is a simp) st ing MON On econ: which should be read aloud in everycircle of re America. Itisa and wemen, at once clever it is also far more than ic diagnosis of the disease of y in the 3 xposing | : “intrinsic liac h is making indusiry the usury. “The Discontented Machine” r sketeh at once vigorous and a telling nt of the present infamous con- hich a_few are absorbing the life se comfort and happiness of the que piece of fiction should I idest possible reading at the present crisis in_the history of the Republic. t will set the dullest to thinking. It “‘The Sick Man” emphasize lessons as boldly gly as do any of the parables of the ament. Miss Knapp, however, is not only & master in the artof writing parables and allegories and She bids fair to_become one of the trongest writers among the veritists, istic portrayal of life as it is I know of no American writer excepting Hamlin Garland who has equaled her. Mr. Flower makes reference to ** Getting Ahead,” a story which is already familiar to readers of THE CaLy, and in conclusion remarks: Seldom in literature do we find anything so y real, so simple, and yet so supremely tragic as this little story. It reveals real geniu and in this case the genius is wedded to a heart of love and & brain aflame with a passion for justice. I predict for Miss Knapp a brilliant future. Oneof the most encouraging signs of the times is found in the presence of a con- stantly increasing number of young men and women of genius and heart who are champion- ing the cause of justice and humanity, and this noble coterie Miss Knapp is making her way to the front. THE LOVE LETTERS OF MR. H, AND MISS R. Asis explained in the preface, the strange and pathetic story that is told in these love letters excited widespread sympathy and attention during the year 1779, and ur p; The fi book th te is & luci slave of is anot! interest in the affair was revived in the fol- | lowing year by the publication of an anonymous book in which a garbled form of some of these letters was printed. The “Mr. H.” of these letters was the Rev. James Hackman, at one timeensign in the Bixty-eighth Regiment of foot. He was quartered upon a recruiting party at Hunt- ington when he first made the acquaint- ance of the Earl of Sandwich, and through him of Miss Reay, the “Miss R.” of the letters. protection of the dissolute Lord Sandwich, who had found her at 14 an apprentice to 2 mantua-maker, fallen in love with her, and taken the child away. He gave her an elaborate education; she became one of the most accomplished women of her time, and at this time she was established in a house at Huntington. She and Hackman fell in love with each other. He offered her marriage, but at the first she labored under a curious sense of gratitude to Lord Sandwich for the benefits he had showered upon her. lover, and she and Hackman opened a clandestine correspondence which lasted through the years intervening from 1775 to | 1779, The letters are full of pathos and of interest. He constantly urged her to marry him, while she_constantly refused. She bad children by Lord Sandwich, and she feared for their welfare should she leave them; moreover, she refused to take advantage of his offer. The man she loved should not be beld up to public scorn as | having married the mistress of even a Lord. The world would declare he had been bought to do it. Sandwich through- out the correspondence figures as “Auld Robin Gray.” The lovers write each other, not merely of their hopeless passion, but of the doings and affairs of the world. They exchange literary and musical gossip. They discuss ‘“the new method of punishment by working on the Thames” and he relates his impressions on visiting the German mines. The letters reveal her as a loving, earnest, cuitured, but most wunfortunate woman. His show him to have been a scholarly, true- hearted gentleman and man of honor. Bhe promises at one time to marry him *‘the first moment I can, with honor to myself and happiness to my H.,”” but reso- lutely charges him to rejoin his regiment and leave her. But apparently the mo- ment when she could fulfill her promise never arrived. He took orders, having left the army, and grew importunate in his suit. He finally became desperate at last, and upon her final refusal to marry him he shot her in public and then put a bullet into his own body. His Aecomfihoz real value to the popu- | ity of the | , vigorous and | In real- | She was then living under the | She would not leave her aged | and PN yookmakers. A DEPARTMENT «OF LTERARY APPRECIATION - have done this, there was opportunity for him to plead that the shooting was acci- | dental, but he refused to take refuge in subterfuge. Such is the strange, pathetic and in- teresting tale of love, of sin and of sorrow told in these letters of more than a century and suggestive one. The editor of the letters, Gilbert Burgess, claims to have satisfied himself by an exhaustive investi- gation of the genuineness of the epistles, and they are now for the first time given in their entiretv. [Chicago: Stone & Kimball. For sale by Doxey, San Fran- cisco.] A GERMAN CLASSIC. In all the attractiveness of pale buff buckram, antique black letter and artistic rubrics David Nutt in London and Charles Scribner’s Sons in New York have just bronght out a notable edition of Wilhelm Meinhold’s remarkable romance, ‘‘The Amber Witch.” The translation is by Lady Duff Gordon, the introduction by Joseph Jacobs, who edits the present vol- ume, and the illustrations are by Philip | Burne-Jones. | In his preface the editor notes a very cu- rious circumstance, namely, that if even the most widely read of Germans be asked if he knows Meinhold or any of his works But it is not of Miss Knapp’s contributions to | | The Witches. [From a sketch by John Sloan $a Moods.} the odds are great that he will admit an entire ignorance on t! ject. Yet when, a few years ago, a certain syndicate | editor obtained from a number of well-| | known English men of letters their opin- | hox | ions concerning what are the “hundred | best books’ several of these included in | their Jists some one of Meinhold’s chief works. California herself could scarcely afford a better illustration than this of a prophet’s lack of honor in his own country. And yet “The Amber Witch” m: rank among the great German cla: is the pioneer among that most effective class of romances in many languages that “im\‘e witchcraft for a motive.. Meinhold | has had many successes 1n this field, but, | not even excepting Balzac, he still remains | master. No work by any other workman in this line has yet surpassed ‘‘The Amber Witch. | . The book has a very curious history. In the year 1841-1842, fragments of what was | afterward to become this volume apveared | in a German periodical called Christoterpe. They then appeared as extracts from the muniment chest at Coserow. Frederick William IV saw the fragments, and, in- | tense lover of romance that he was, became | interested in them. He made inquiries about the author of the work, and the | whole manuscript was sent to him by Meinhold, with an explanation of the fic- | tionand of a certain design which he en- | tertained against the higher Biblical crit: In June of the following year the author received back his manuscript, neatly printed under the auspices of an eminent | | firm, together with a letter inclosinga goodly remittance. This was an act worthy of a kingly king. The doughty critic signs, rose quickly to his bait. They hailed with celight this revival of along-lost | manuscript, a notable contribution to the | nation’s ial history. When, at last, one doubting Thomas arose, who brought into | question the authenticity of the work, the author finally confessed the trick he had practiced. But the critics, at first deceived by him, proceeded solemnly to deceive themselves. They refused to believe that they had been taken in, and declared for the authenticity of the document againat the reiterated assertions of the author. But, perhaps, could he know the last condition of his much-fought-over manu- script the author himself might be the most surprised of all who took part in that old controversy. He had written ‘‘The Amber Witch”in order to show how read- ily the cocksure Biblical critics could be deceived. He had intended merely to Strauss and his school, but what he really | did was to inaugurate an entirely new | school, not of Biblical eriticism, but of | romance. He has clothed in romantic fiarb tragic outgrowths of the universal elief in~ witcheraft that darkened the { middle ages, that up to this time had served only as material for many grew- | some chapters of history. The story purports to be the trial of | “Mary Schneider, the amber witch, the | most interesting trial for witcherait ever known. Printed from an imperfect manu- | script by her father, Abraham Schneider, the pastor of Coserow, in the island of Usedom, edited by W. Meinhold, doctor of theology, pastor, ete.” The “story told by the supposititious chronicleris of the accusation, trial and tor- tureof his young daughter Mary asa witch. The author tells his tale in an exceedingly realistic fashion, and, indeed, the remark- able picture he has given of the actual time of which he writes constitutes the book’s chief value. The reader for the time being moves and breathes in the atmosphere of the witch-ridden middle ages. The dark superstitions, the strange accusations and tortures, the life, fears, hopes and the people of Coserow and TUekeritze are brought vividly before us. The story itseif, aside from its historic chief motif, follows closely upon the lines of the conventional romancers oi Mein- hold’s own time. The Amber Witch her- self is by no means a remarkable creation. She is a typical young girl of her age, ac- cused of witcheraft, put to trial and tor- ture and rescued from death at the last moment through the efforts of her lover. In the old pastor who tells the tale, how- ever, we have a bit of admirable character- ization. Lady Duff Gordon, in her trans- lation, has preserved delightfully the simplicity of the archaic and rather pedantic original by which Meinhold so cleverly befogged the critics. 3 The whole work is a charming bit of bookmaking, and is well werthy of a place was not fatal and he fived to expiate his deed en the gallows. He need not really among the noteworthy revivals of .the year. [New York: Sons. London: David Nutt. For sale by Doxey, San Francisco.] THE HOOSIER POET. Boston has a new magazine called Ex- pression, devoted to “art, literature and the spoken word.” In the last issue Daniel J. Cosgro has the following: Nearly all the poets of the old world and the new have sought their inspiration in the classic founts of Greece or Rome, the myths of North- ern Europe or the fabulous tales of the Middle Ages. Tennyson, it is said, is at his best in the “Idylls of the King’—Launcelot and Guin- evere, with other romantic legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round “Table, Our own Longfellow is under_the influence of Scandinavian folk lore and Indian tradition; Oliver Wendeil Holmes, the gay and witty poet of society, wrote too much “swallgw-tailed’ poetry to Tank him among the immortals; Edgar Allen Poe seemed satisfied with a weird and mystical jingle of sounds, and Walt Whit- man mistook eccentricity for naturalness. James Whitcomb Riley, “the country poet,” draws his inspiration direct from nature and the human heart. He comes to us as the boy on the farm comes from the old wellin the meadows, spilling his pitcher of song along the way. his unigue and unrivaled genius is & na- tive of the Hoosier State. Bovhood and early manhood were passed working on a farm in Indiana and rambling through the neighbor- | ing villages. Many a day he dreamed away in the meadow, listening listlessly, yet iearning | the birds sdngs, and stocking the palette of his imagination with all the colors of the land- scape, till finally he took the music of the Dbrook, the sweet-scented soul of the clover, the solos 0f the birds and all the symphonies of field and wood, and wove-them into happy words. Astride the rail fence, talking with the fellow at the plow, chatting with the boys at the country store, visiting as a friend the families for m ound, he learned all there was in this miniature yet model world; he learned to know and love and sympathize with the peo- ple he met; and then he added to his poet’s harp the heart-strings of men, women and chil- aren. He writes of the real world, the ideal world, of the plain yet princely people whom he knew; these are the people who have walked and falked in Riley’s they are the er leaves his men he puts int : own home for b <cape, mor his own ac- uaintances for the characiers of his song. heir faces shine and smile through itall; it kY is their laughter, their sorrows and joys—it is their fields and farms and homes, the familiar spots of his own Hoosier home—that he writes of, and somehow he appeals to all the world. Such poems as “Knee Deep in June,” “The Days Gone By” and *“The Orchard Lends of Long Ago,” are the experiences and dreams of us all, idealized end glorified; while “Old John Henry,” “William Leachman,” “3an by the Name of Bojus” and many others, are men who pass and repass us all our days, immortal- izea and apotheosized by his marvelous genius. In his poeiry you will find sympath suffering, consolation for all sorrows, 1 at all eccentricities, forgiveness and p phy for all failin unstinted praise for all'the virtues of virtuous. Life to him seems like a sheet of music whereon is.written every note; and out of the harpsichord of the | heart, with tender touch, he draws forth rare and wondrous melodies—now laughter, now | tears, and anon pathos and joy. Do not conclude thet because Riley writes of plain man therefore heisinferior to the classic rhymesters; for this very reason he is superior, Tennyson's men are suited best for coats of mail and lauce and shield; Holmes’ would feel | much out of place unless attired in evening Walt Whitman's were never seen oul- a museum, while Edgar Allan Poe's creations never inhabited earth. strange Riley’s characters are regardless of habit; the soul of man needs no costuming. There is the same_difference between the work of Riley and Tennyson as_between Abraham Lincoln and the Apollo Belvedere; one throbs with pulse and soul; the other is cold, passionless, yet artistic. Compare Holmes' poem, Riley’s of the same name, | ususl, definite, practical and witty; the more ideal, suggestive, poetic, pathetic. People are reading Riley’s works who never cared for poetry before, because they recogni the beanty of the pictures he paints, sketched, rom their own visions. against whom Meinhold entertained de- | | refute the critical methods of the great| His imagi: ation is true to nature and ope- A simple fact of homely life b his_tropical faney bursts like \rough cathedral windows, into And his works ty; hidden in the garb of rustic speech are words wise as tered. His Hoosier dialect hoids of Plato’s wisdom and philosophy yund as Herbert Spencer’s, and much miorting. The dialect poem, My Phil- is the essence of many volumes of sion left by “The Story of Bessie Costrell” is not so much one of decadence as of re- action. Having given us three strong stories of very obvious purpose, Mrs. Hum- phry-Ward now seems to have seen fit to write one which, while strongly done, is suggestive of nothing under heayen save a voluntary association for some little time with certain wholly vulgar and not at all interesting people. Bessie Costrell is a young woman mar- ried to an_austere, dissenting laborer, in an obscure English village. miserly in- clined relative goes away for a time and leaves his hoarded savings of years in her charge. She breaks open his strong box and proceeds to spend the money at the village tnr. She drinks freely, talks freely, neglects her home, gets talked over in the vulgar village gossip. The relative comes home, demands his money and the inevi- table discovery is made. There is a scene with the village constable and then Bessie Costrell oesoé and drowns herself, driven thereto by the merciless condemnation of her narrowly religious and much-deceived husband, Isaac Costrell. He becomes a prey to melancholia, and afterward re- turns again for comfort to the aspirations and self-abasements of religion. There is a suggestion of a moral dragged in by the ears in the closing sentence of the book in the idea that‘‘misery provokes pity; de- spair throws itself on divine grace and en- ables us to listen to the only voice ghat can make us patient under the tragedies of human fate, whether these tragedies be the ‘falls of princes’ or such meaner, nar- rower pains as brought poor Bessie Cos- trell to herend.” % MO00DS; A JOURNAL INTIME. A unique volume reached THE CALL ves- terday. Itis called “Moods; a Journal In- time; wherein the artist and the author pleaseth himself.”” It is an odd mixture of earnest thought, good art work and satirical writing. The contributors in- clude such writers as Harrison 8. Morris, Bertram G. Goodhue, Norman Hapgood, Ralph Adams Crane, Owen Wister, Kate Chopin, Colin A. Scott, Walter Blackburn Harte and others. Among the designers are Paul Lachenmeyer, Robert ‘Henr, Mephisto. [From a sketch in clay by Paul Lachenmeyer, pub- lished in Moods.) John Sloan, Marianna Sloan, Frederic R. Gruger and Eleanor B. Caldwell. All the contributors are young and aspiring, so they adopt as their own the verses from Alired de Musset: +{ woman’s imbecile drunkard of a husband SCO CALL, SUNDAY, AUGUST 11, 1895. 17 and spiced, to be sure, and adapted to dif- ferent tastes, but the real difference be- tween the two is, after all, not so great as our literary friends would have us believe. [New York: G. W. Dillingham.] AMERIOAN STEAM VEBSELS. “‘American Steam Vessels” is the title of a volume issued from the press of Messrs. Smith & Stanton, New York. The work is intended to supply the want of a book which should contain views of the many types of American ships as found in different parts of the country, and exhibit- ing the many changes in their construc- tion which have been made from time to time. Itis claimed by the author that his work has. considerable historical value, and that he has presented the types with- out material embellishment, and hence with perfect accuracy. Ten years have been expended in the compilation of data, and several more in the preparation of the illustrations. It is noticeable that the descriptive matter is quite short, only some 300 words being devoted to each ves- sel, but this is rather a good feature from the standpoint of conciseness. The pic- tures are arranged in chronological order, and are presented in an attractive manner on toned paper with ornamental border | and fancy lettering in colors.. The work is | brought ‘down to date, a page being de- | voted to the new steamer St. Louis, which made its initial trip only a few weeks ago. Altogether the book, which contains nearly 1000 pages, appears to be of great value, and is certainly a splendid specimen of the printers’ and binders’ arts. [Pub- lished by Smith & Stanton, 129 Broad street, New York.] IN THE YEAR OF JUBILEE. This novel, by George Gissing, is hardly up to the standard usually maintained by Appleton’s Town and Country Library. The author seems to be opposed to education for the lower classes, and at the end of the otherwise rather aimless book suddenly ex- ploits a rather novel, although not unat- tractive fad—that matrimonial happiness would be promoted by husband and wife occupying separate dwellings, and only seeing each other at intervals of a week ortwo. He also puts forward in the mouth of his hero the doctrine that a rational woman would infinitely rather have a husband who was often unfaithful than to keep him faithful through' fear of her jealous espionage, and that ‘“‘infidelity is much worse in a woman than in a man. | If a man really suspects his wife he must | leave her, that is all. Then let her justify | herself if sbhe can.” [New York: D.| Appleton & Co. TFor sale by William Doxey, 8an Francisco.] - DIPLOMATIO DISENCHANTMENTS. A thoroughly enjoyable story by Edith Bigelow, who gives ussome capital pictares and descriptions of the delights and other- wise of an American diplomat’s residence in Berlin. The diplomat is a professor from a New England college who finds himself quite unexpectedly made the American Minister to Germany. He goes to Berlin with his family, and a six months’ experience of the delights, the bonors and the complications of foreign diplomacy make the entire connection only too glad to return to the New Eng- land college, which in turn is only too glad to get the simple-hearted, clever pro- fessor back. The author has a certain familiarity with her background that makes the story entertaining and pleasant reading. [New York: Harper & Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham & Co., San Francisco. BILLY BELLEW. In “Billy Bellew”” W. E. Norris, who will be remembered as the author of | “Marcia,” has given us the story of a young Englishman of means and position who | gets into an entanglement with a married woman, much his senior. He does the | This ook s our youth, “Beautiful Hands” and ¢Illeles” suggest and equal Tennyson’s *“Mand” in thought and passion. “In the Dark,” “Thé Lost Kiss” and “A Vision of Summer” are Longfellow almost beyond his best. Scattered here and there are many passages worthy of Wordsworth. Particularly “Songs of Chilahood.” childrer’s versex, but they have been me; nonsensical prattle—little peppermint si of poetry for the. babies. Riley's child verse i happy and unique are the Others have written rely s worthy ihe perusal of g philosopher. He has caugh’ e real spirit of children—the: cetness, sincerity. No tearle tle_Hally,” nor laughless lip lin he hing_ Party” or “Prior to Miss ance” and a myriad s is the unrivaled, poet laureate of child life— the sweetest singer of child songs for lovers of children and for those who once were children th elves snjoy the scenes and songs of sum- mer—the meadows, where the suushine plows its golden furrows across the shadows; the zig- 7ag ail fence staggering across the landscape; lazy groups of sunflowers loafing in the corners of the field where little yellow butterflies fly over the clover in twos and twos like eloping couples of buttercups, and their big scarlet comrades flickering like flame among the flowers; bobolinks and bluebirds in the air, like winged cameos and sapphires, glittering and twittering and singing, and over all the great white sails of clouds drifting dreamily over the blue—if your life has 10st something or you are yearning for the unattained, per- haps unattainable; if you are touched by memories of the past and thrilled by hopes of coming days; if you have love for the old and dreams of the new—then you will enjoy Riley. Open & volume. Here are songs of the tender | and true—of homely, holy things: songs that | rekindle the ashes on the hearth, and paint upon the canvas of happy reveric the fadeless | faces of all the dear and dead and dreamed of; of the deys that are gone and the ways ou went—of childhood and boyheod and manhood. Oh, sweet minstrel! sing on? Sing the dreamer home, back along the weary winding ways he trod since boyhood’s days, back by the fishing-streams_that whisper through the | meadows of remembered Junes; sing him back barefoot and whistling by the clover-fringed pathways of the pasture lands at twilight; sing nim back to mother’s knee, her happy smile and lullaby of love—all the old songs of the heart and of home and of kindred, the nights of happy dreams, the deys of happier renlities. “ WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC.” Stone & Kimball have taught us to ex- pect beautiful books from their press, and as a bit of beautiful bookmaking this | attractively entitled volume is quite up to tbe firm’s standard. “When Valmond Came to Pontiac” is the story of a lost Napeleon. As the story, goes the great Napoleon had a son, born at St. Helena, by a Countess well known in Europe. She had landed, disguised as a sailor, from a merchant ship, and lived in retirement at Longwood for nearly a year. After the Emperor died the thing was discovered, but the Governor of the island made no re- port of it to the British Government, for that would have reflected on himself, and the returned exiles kept the matter a secret. It was said that the child died at St. Helena. Upon this quasi-historic foundation the author, Gilbert Parker, has built a charm- ing romance. Valmond is a young French- man who bears a startling resemblance to Napoleon I. He is introduced to us on the veranda of the Hotel Louis Quinze, in Pontiac, a little French-Canadian village in Quebec. He seems to have dropped from the clouds, so mysterious has 8cen his advent in the little town. He has boundless wealth, infinite grace, and wins the love—the adoration—of the whole countryside. He is believed to be this un- known son of Napoleon, although he neyer really makes such a claim in words, and in time he comes to be at the head of a small army whose ultimate aim is nothing less than the establishinfi‘of himself upon the throne of France. The brief career, the tragic fate of the young pretender are told in a narrative of exquisite pathos and beauty. [Chicago: Stone & Kimball.] THE STORY OF BESSIE COSTRELL. Having run as a novelette in Scribner’s, this latest story by Mrs. Humphry-Ward isnow published by Macmillan & Co. It is customary now when a popular writer brings out a work of doubtful merit to raise the cry of overproduction. “He is C getting wriften out,” say the critics, and | called literary have alread. Charles Scribner’s | wag their heads sagely. But the impres- | constituents. They are diff Made without striving. Might have bettered, forsooth; But art’s not conniving. The past alone’s dead; Man changeth ever. ' So, where'er led, 4 Heaven bless the endeavor, You, who you may, Read what you'ré able; Do not. we pray, Condemn as unstable Verses of youth, Sweet ndolescence: Manhood’s deep truth, Hope's evanescence. [Tsstied by the Jenson Press, 810 Sansome street, Philadelphia.] IN DEACON'S ORDERS AND OTHER STORIES. Amid the mazv mysteries of the Isness of the What these thoroughly sane and readable stories by Walter Besant loom up with a promise of safety, for an hour—as a stopping place, so to speak, where the bewildered reader may pause to look about: him and get- his second wind for another wild scramble through the London fog of mad fiction. 8ir Walter explains in his preface that the disease of ‘‘Religiosity,” which is treated in the first of the stories included in the volume, must not be con- founded with the possession of or desire for religious faith. Paul Leighan, B.A., the victim of religiosity, has no religion, no faith; but te has an esthetic love for all things ecclesiastic, a fad which is by no means confined to Besant’s hero, by the way. He is what common people would call a hypocrite, and yet they would be wrong. He takes orders—and he also takes money—by means of a forged check, and he is guilty of sundry other rather unusual variations upon his daily programme of church - going, }anthem-singing. He is, in fact, a thorough-going scoundrel with a queer predilection for the services and offices of the church. When his notorious mis- deeds have put him out of all touch with that institution he joins the Salvation Army, having just served a term in jail. He is always refieming and enjolying his repentance, e disgraces himself in the army, goes to America and repeats the whole programme. He dies at last, as he has lived, with his eyes turned up to heaven, but the trail of slime, of hypoc- risy and of wickedness left by nhis life re- mained behind, as the evil that men do lives after them. The study is an interest- ing and a thoroughly human one. One_of the best stories in the book is “The Equal Woman,” a clever and effec- tive slap at a favorite attitude of the new man—for Besant, 100, seems to have dis- covered and to be camping upon the trail of this worthy. [New York: Harper & Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham & Co., San Francisco.] TWO BOOKS BY ALBERT ROSS. According to his publisher’s statement, the sales of Albert Roes’ novels are now'in the millions. In all probability this state- ment is not exaggerated. Albert Ross has, to-day, probably a larger circle of readers than any other writer in America, save, perhaps, Sylvanus Cobb Jr. Thisis not a particularly hopeful outlook, from the standpoint of one who trusts inan ulti- mate evolution of taste in the masses, yet it is the logical outlook for such a Nation as this, The fathers and mothers of the people who read the novels of Albert Ross could probably not read at all. The second generation of the tide of emigration washed 1o this shore in years past finds itself pos- sessed of hours wherein their hands are unemployed, while their brains have n> desire for sleep. They have also learned to read; have contracted the reading habit, so to speak. To this class of readers Albert Ross makes his appeal. He gives them, in his enormous outgut of paper-covered fic- tion, a fimel{ rehash of what their chil- dren will probably read at first hand. In the two books now at hand, “Out of Wedlock’ and ““A Black Adonis,” for in- stance, he dishes up for his readers certain social and political problems that certain other leaders in circles laying claim to be offered their erently flavored. no actual wrong, but the pair become thor- ughly 'compromised. - When the story . opens Billy is thoroughly weary of her, but | still dangles. after ber, fearful of hurting | her feelings by .severing the weakening bonds of his allegiance. This'is the situa- tion throughout nearly the whole of the book, and the issues therefrom make toler- able, though somewhatexasperating, sum- mer reading. Lx\‘ew York: Harper & Bros. For sale by Payot, Upham Co., San Francisco.] “THE MORMON'S WIFE.” In this little story Grace Wilbur Trout | has given a realistic and touching picture of some of the herrors possible under the religious system of Utah’s “‘peculiar peo- ple.” Eloise Lane is a Mormon girl, whose mother, when dying, made her vow never to assent to the polygamic creed ‘that had wrecked her own life and that of so many Mormon wives. She marries a man who vows never to practice polygamy, but who, after five years, is brought by the peculiar methods of the church, to where he must choose between ruin and the church's pet institution. He chooses the latter altern- ative, and Eloise, rather than consent, kills herself and her two children. The story is powerfully told. [Chicago: Charles H. Kerr & Co. For sale by Wil- liam Doxey, San Francisco. ] DR. HATHERN'S DAUGHTERS. A new book by Mary J. Holmes is a good thing to remind the average reader that after all we are not quite in the sear and yellow leaf. And this reminder, particu- larly in the summer weather, is so grateful to the average mind as to be in itself al- most enough to insure the book a welcome, provided loyalty to an ancient cult does not demand actual perusal of the work. It has all the old Holmes flavor—the facile | readiness of the Holmes pen and even more than the usual variations on the Holmes plot. In one sense of the word it is a good deal better book than many a better book, and far more wholesome read- ing for the average reader of romances than anything likely to be produced by either the new woman or the new man. [New York: G.W. Dillingham.] MODERN AMERICAN DRINKS, A book of directions for the proper mix- ing of those concoctions which the awe- struck foreigner on American soil calls ‘““‘American drinks.” The list is an amaz- ing one, running up into the hundreds, and, judging from their names, a majority of them are about as distinctively ‘‘Ameri- can” as is our population. Why absinthe and arrack, ale cup and bicarbonate of soda should be termed American drinks the author of this great work, George J. Kappeler, fails to explain; and perbaps, after all, the ion is not a momentous one. [New York:The Merriam Company.] WHERE WERE THE BOYS?" This story, by John Habberton, gives the title to the first issne in the second series of the Outing Library. There are other tales in the book, by other authors, but none that are of a nature to attract at- tention by reason either of merit or de- merit. the illustrations, which are spirited and well reproduced. [New York: The Out- ing Publisning Company.] A HUNDRED YEARS OF MISSIONS. This book, by Delavan L. Leonard, D.D., is not intended to serve merely as a book of dates or reference. Its design is not to tell a little about everything pertaining to the mission fields, but rather to tell enough about the most important and character- istic features and events in the history of the mission work of the century to meet the wants of the multitude of readers. Funl]{ & Wagnalls Company, New York. 1 50. RECENT REPRINTS. THE MAYOR OF CasTERBRIDGE.—In their admirable new edition of Thomas Hardy’s books Harper & Brothers have just sent out “The Mayor of Casterbridge,” illustrated by an etching of Macbeth-Raeburn’s and a map of Wessex. The present edition, the author explains, contains nearly a chapter that has never yet appearedin any English copy, and some shorter passages and names, omitted or altered for reasons which no longer exist, have also been re- placed. [New York: Harper & Brothers. For sale by Payot, Upham & Co., San Francisco.] TALES OF SOLDIERS AND CIVILIANS.—Lov- ell, Coryeil & Co. have just issued, in paper covers, an ‘edition from the original plates of Ambrose Bierce’s collection of. short stories, first published by E. L. G. Steele, several years ago. These stories are by far the vest work Mr. Bierce has ever done and form a series of interesting studies in various queer traits of the human curio | as The Prattler knows him. Lovell, Coryell & Co. [New Yorl For sale by Doxey.] Young Robbers Punished. Charles Casey, Frank Figonier and Thomas Ryan, three young men, were before Judge Low yesterday on a charge of robbery. They met & man named William Baker on the street and took & coat from him which he was trying to sell. They pleaded guilty to petty larceny and the Judge sentenced each to six months in the County Jail. The best part of the little book is | KILLED AT THE CROSSING, Antone Ferro Run Over by a Southern Pacific East- bound Train. ON HIS WAY TO HIS RANCH. He and His Horses Killed and His Wagon Smashed on Thirty= First Street. The Southern Pacific Railroad Company is responsible for the death of another man. The deadly crossing at Thirty-first street has added another to the list of un- | fortunates. At the crossing of Thirty-first street there are two deep cuts. The railroad trains appreach through one and the road runs through the other. Antone Ferro, who owned a small vegetable ranch near | the Seven-mile House, had been to the City with a load of market produce, and about 9:45 A. M. he was on his way home again when a train bound for San Fran- cisco came rushing around the curve at a rate of fifty miles an hour. Ferro and his team were right on the track, and the next moment man, horses and wagon were all mixed up in a general wreck. The wagon was broken into splinters, one horse was killed outright, but the other escaped. Ferro was thrown thirty feet out of the wagon and was picked up in an uncon= scious condition. There was no doctor on the train so the unfortunate man was placed in a car and taken to the Valencia-street police station. Dr. Dozier of St. Luke’s Hospital was at once summoned, but before he arrived at the station Ferro was dead. Harry Enwecht, the irain conductor, as~ serted that Ferro was asleep on his wagon and did not hear the warning bell that rung at. the crossing on the approach of the train. Enwecht saw all this around the carve, A number of children who were at play on the embankments contradicted the conductor in one important particular, They asserted that no bell was rung and that the horses plodded on to their soom‘ The children .are Maggie Connolly, 40 Chenery street, Pierce A. John, 63 Chenery street, Eugenia and Emma Maillard, 106 Palmer street, and P. Isola, 3313 Mission street. Not one of them could say whether the driver of the wagon was asleep, but the; did say that he had hold of the reins an drove along all right. The train came dashing around the curve, and the nex¥ instant crashed into the vehicle. “‘We knew the train was about due,” said little Maggie Connolly, “‘and we were waiting to see it pass. . We saw the two- horse team coming along and watched it until it was on the crossing. The man who was driving let his horses go along slowly, and we never thought of the train or heard a bell until the engine came shooting around the curve and smashed into the wagon. Then we all ran away. No bell rang that any of us could hear.” FIGHT FOR A LEGACY, Mrs. John M. Walker Suing to Recover Her Inheritance of 85000, Mrs. Edith A. Walker has begun suit against William G. Waters to recover $5000 that was bequeathed to her by Mrs. Waters. Mra. Walker was adopted when a year old by Mrs. Marantha Scott, a widow, who afterward became the wife of Waters, the defendant in the case. Mrs. Waters owned a separate estate of about $12,000, and when she died at Santa Barbara in 1890 she be- queathed $5000 to her adopted daughter, making Waters the trustee. The ndog)ted daughter, who is now the wife of John M. Walker of this City, says that she cannot obtain her money from the trustee. She further declares that Waters | never invested the money for her; that he is insolvent, and that he is trying to dis- pose of the remaining portion of his estate so that he may entirely defraud her out of her inheritance. NEW TO-DAY. 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