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~ LITERARY NOTES.
Mr. Horace B. Scudder has Just finished the
first draft of his biography of Lowell Lit Is to
be published early in the autumn of IMI.
The new and cheaper edition of the Steven
son letters contains one from Alan Breck to
I'r.vat. Terence Mulvaney. with Alan's com
ments on the changes in the art of war since
th. days of his skirmish in the roundhouse of
the brig Covenant.
John Uuskin was a persistent letter writer
and there are consequently a great many of his
epistlra in the autograph market. One dealer
offers a variety of Ituskin letters at a few shil
lings apiece. in one of these letter* he says
"lt seems to me more difficult every day as it
may become my own duty to live at least on
as little as I can if I would enforce simplicity
of life on others." He had dreams of life in a
parrot at that time. It was his failure to carry
out tn externals, as well as in the spirit this
course of renunciation that made him sign a
loner— not one of the letters now on sale— "Your
poor friend, John Huskin."
Here is Tennyson's own idea of the general
drift of his "In Momoriam." "It is." he said
c:ice to t!u- Bishop of Upon, "a kind of small
'Divina •nanedia' ending in a marriage."
Mr. W. F. Prideaux has lately found a copy
cf that scarce lit'Je book. "The Poetical Recrea
tions of ihe Champion," and discovered in it
some (rather poor) cj'Urrams by Charles Lamb,
which be thinks have never been reprinted.
There is also in the volume a poem. "A Lady's
Sapphic." which is M»:nid "M. L." and which
be attributes to Mary Lamb:
Now the calm evening hastily approaches.
Not a sound Ftirring thro' the gentle woodlands,
t-a\e that soft Zephyr with his downy pinions
Scatters fresh fragrance.
JCow the pale sunbeams in the west declining
Gild the dew rising as the twilight deepens.
Beauty ar.d splendor decorate the landscape;
Night is approaching.
Fsy the cool stream's side pensively and sadly
F:t I, while birds sing on the branches sweetly,
Ar.d my sad thoughts all with their carols sooth
Lull to oblivion.
A characteristic note addressed by Charlotte
Bronte" to her "dear El'en" was also disposed of
at :h:s sale. "From what you Pay of Mr. Clap
ham." she writes, "1 think I should like him
v. r> much; Annie wants shaking to be put out
about his appearance. What does it matter
whether her husliand diru-s in a dress coat or a
market coat, provided there be worth and bon
e*!> ar.d a clean shirt underneath?"
Those ho would like to know more about the
I*: it st i.f Nomi than the hero of "Eleanor" tells
us must seek Mr. J. <3. Fraser's beautiful book
or. ir.agic and religion, "The Golden Bough."
Tli>- <•< tral theme of the book is the explanation
of this priesthood of Arieia and the annual
e&crifloe of a hu-nan representative of the god.
Thr new edition of "The QoUlen Bough" is
irnaily enlarged, a fact due to the addition of
::.¦,:< h illustrative matter. It presents a change
if view also, in *».< much as Mr. Fraser now
n c^rds ictigion and magic as distinct, the em
bodiments or outgrowths cf two opposing prin
plee; w heroes in the original form of the book
la- inclined to the view that magic was a loose
and undeveloped form of religion.
Tht- Historical Manuscripts Commission of the
American Historical Association proposes to
publish the papers of Chief Justice Salmon P.
Chase, and Mr. Herbert Friedenwald is prepar
ing :ln-m for the press.
An :.»:lish critic rejoices over tbe present in
dications cf a reaction against the dominion of
t!:>- l>:lielot in letters. He cornplaius mat M.
little book has had a long run and the "little
masters" have made the best of it; that we have
bet n livirg in an age of meticulous preciosities,
a di*-t apt in time to become cloying to the
;:i!ate. And he adds, crimly, apropos of the
fashionable bibelot binding, "There has been too
niu'h of the limp lamb in the recent purveying
of English letters.*'
The dust of Samuel Richardson, th» novelist.
i!< s under the pavement of St, Bride's, one of
th*» quaint old churches in the "city** of Lon
f! n, and a brass tablet set in the wall repeats
I>r. Johnson's tribute: "He enlarged the knowl
<iict- <jf human nature, and taught the passions
to move at the command of virtue." "Th* 1 nov
elist's gravestone," says "The London Globe,"
"is under the cocoanut matting in the middle
&h>. where its gilt lettering is carefully she!
t> red from dust under a paper coverfnc It may
ffa strange that the gravestone of the author
oj 'Clarissa' should be thus hidden away, but
:h>re is force in the contention of Mr. Peart.
the courteous parish clerk, that by this means
it is preserved from being worn by many feet,
and is kept in a condition to be shown to gen
dne pilgrims. For eucb Mr. Peart will gladly
roll the great matting down the aisle, in an
::<ivancing an increasing cylinder r.ike Fame
thrusting hack Oblivion), until there comes in
flew the marble slab beneath which the 'father
< I the English novel' lies." A m.:« English
iK>\.eiist lives under the shadow of the old church
loner — «>re who has lately begun to deal
with the life of his own country. This
tl Mr. Anthony Hope Hawkins, whose father.
i he elder Anthony Hawkins, is the rector of
.-i Bride's and is one of the mast interesting
and beloved of the older clergy in London.
A meeting was held in Concord the other even
ing as a memorial to the late Dr. Kasha Mul
fordl the author of "The Nation," a bock which
liot many people read in these days. Various
<.!d friends of the author gave their remi
j:ii-ccnces of him.
A letter describing the last hours of Jane
Austen has just been ?sold in London. It was
penned by her Bister. Elizabeth Austen, who
writes a? follows: "£he felt herself to l*e dying
i;bjut naif an hour before she became tranquil
nud apparently unconscious. During that half
boor was her struggle, poor soul; she said she
could not tel us what she suffered, though she
complained of little fixed pain. When I aske-1
her if there was anything she wanted, her
answer war *h« wanted nothing but death, and
some of her words were. *God grant me patience.
I ray for an-, oh pray for me." Her voice was
defective, but as long as the *poke she was
ii.i.-lliglble. ... I returned about a quarter
before rin and found her recovering from faint-
Imhs and oppression; «he got so well as to be
it'll- to give me a minute account of her seizure.
j-JEW-YOKK TKIBUNB ILLUSTIJATKI) SUTLKMKNT.
SSs^~ r * h "« sz ess
hafniJfnnr V c la i est - From that "me till
I the r6malns are to deposited in
thlt thov I ." f a , Batlsf^t»«n to me to think
¦S^miS* hJr J^^ ln a bui »din C she admired
rrnose, h ,-^ ** prw i ious soul - I presume to hope,
reposes in a superior mansion." .
! ouT'his^h^rv S Wlth , "•""• T «' B <°« «rri«i
and ruthl.ss exajiii nation. At last th.. «Mt
that • f7. ral I '»nX» nX , <IX<hanK<><l th<> P u^ st "^
JffZfJZ l ? ** ano » hf^ compilation of stray
bits of Thackeray's writing, the compiler beX
THE NEOLITHIC MAN AS HE APPEARS AT THE BRITISH Ml SKIM.
Mr. I^-v.is McHille, the author of a so-called
"life" of the great novelist. The publisher's an
ment gives us to understand that the
volume will contain such matter as has not been
reprinted in any bonk -matter, therefore, which
it-- BJIMu did nnt wish to arSßSnrc A com
mentator in "The Pali Mall Gasette" asss in
Mr. M*-l\ill- "a well-m»-anin? Nemesis, visitinf;
at tl is far remove the ladle* mlniia <>f a
I : • in harness, and suffering not the in
:to be forgotten.** Alas, that a
dead >-'iatit fhoiild be the victim of such small
fry. f. , in. ;ne!
A new us- for :it«rature! A "cultun d" grocer
¦ion pivs awai novels to puirhsi
h-s tea. ar.d varies the gift according to the
quantity r< cjiiesied.
Mark Rutherford in his forthcr mirg "Jour
nal' describes a visa m Carlyle at Chelsea la
is»;s. Th.- sun. wno sat at breakfast in a
cheerful room, was agmable and frankly ta k
ati\c. Kverx thing in the room was in end
order, the books M the shelves, for Instance,
basag hi perfect evenness. Mark Rutherford
not, ctd that v ben Carlyle replaced a book he
took pains to pet >t even with the others. There
ar«- !• ft only a f< w Si-ncbnivn who remember
old !.:. n ;it < '
putttK-h describe him sometimes as a "a ir
tesapered body*' who did n^t K»-t <n well wi'ri
i.is hrsther, the then tamiei «'f Craigenputtoch.
I J «'lish enthusiasm for the nsweHst, Ilenry X
Sii nkit-w •( z. hi great— So t-r.al ti:at ti<. 1".
. to <clebrate his twentjr-nfth "literary
antnver: a.r> " by the jrif t t i him of a line house
aiu • stale.
j THE MURDER OF POUPIUA.
j From The London Morning Post,
Those who are well acquainted with "The Rins
and the Bask.** that is to fay, almost every on
who an read Browning with pleasure, should
¦ turn to the account of "The Murder of Pom
pilia." in "The Monthly Review." Professor Hall
Griffin, a devoted student of Browning, has pro
| vided the translation of an Italian manuscript
1 (discovered in January last by Signer Gicnji,
librarian of the Casanateuse Library at Horn')
j which gives a full account of the trial of J'ran
| ceschini and hit; assistant assassins. It is of
1 value to those who care to study the historical
, basc-s of tragedy an i romance for the variants
: and supplements it offers to the narrative in the
! "square old yellow lnjok" from which Browning
obtained his materials, and of which a translation
from the poet's unique copy, now preserved in
I the Baiiol College Library, is in pre|»aration. It
!is also likely to attract th, curious student of
' criminal character and achievement. Mr. Hall
Griflin. in the many footnotes which hp supplies,
¦hows that in several notable features of his
poem Bi owning failed, in rpile of his endeavors.
to perform the ever difficult operation of telling
"the truth, the whole truth, ar.d nothing but the
truth" about the tei ; Lie domestic tragedy with
which he was concerned. So doubt some of the
poet's « : iverj;cnees fr »m hisio.*y were introduced
for artistic reaso I Others were as surely the
result of misinformation or mistake. For In
stance, the chief criminal. Pompilia's husband,
»an a man of forty at his death, whereas he is
fifty in "The King and the Book." while from
| the name of the Augustinlan brother, "Celestlne
idi S. Anna." Browning constructed a wholly
imaginary "Hospital of St. Anna" for Pompilia
to die in.
I'IMMi 01 T IN CHINA.
A FOREIGNER'S ENTERTAINMENT AT A
From Blackwr jd's Magazine.
During the quarter of an hour before dinner
me guests (only male, of course) sit or stroll
about, eating cakes— a favorite being a sort of
not fruit puff (which each orders for himselt)—
and sipping tea. Melon seeds and salted al
monds are also in demand for desultory nibbling
\\ hen our number is complete a tremendous
encounter of good m .nners ensues. Though the
question of precedence is of course all cut and
dried beforehand, each man must be polite
enough to simulate an irrevocable resolve not to
accept any but the lowest place until the host's
* riend, go up higher, " promotes him.
The table, as m-ntfoned. is read} laid with an
imposing bhow; a regulation number of regula
tion dishes, marshallol in regulation order;
quaint porcelain stands filled with slices of or
anges, pears, or cold goose; towers of purple
(luince jelly squares, grapes, or shredded chicken
breast; saucers of shrimps, salted in their skins;
and, never forgotten, the famous eggs, preserved
for years in lime, and served, sliced. In beds of
brown Jelly (much prized fot their acrid and
rather ammoniaoal flavor, but not usually appre
ciated by foreigners). Hot wine, O f various
bran. ls and vintages, is served throughout That
mf.st commonly drunk is a kind of sack or sherry
nogus-a yellow wine distilled from Indian com.
Being comparatively mild, it is served in small
cups; ardent white spirits of rice— samshu— in
thimblefuls. "Rose" W j n o is one of several
varieties, flavored with roses. (No wine is made
from grapes, though they are plentiful in North
When all are seated ready for the fray the
h< st raises his cup:
"Let us drink!"'
We reply. "Thanks, thanks!" then set to— with
Chopsticks; picking now from one 'dish, now
fr<>m another, in piquant contrast of sweet, sour
Th.- first fury of the opening attack being
¦pent, the shattered bands of bora d'eeuvres are
withdrawn, and the nests saunter into the
other rooms for a whiff of tobacco or— whisper
it not in Gath— a pipe of opium, en attendant the
Certain traditional dishes form the backbone
of the feast. For Instance, that most delicious
of bouillis. shark*! fir. soup, always open the
ball. It is served in a large bowl, smoking not,
ami consists of a glutinous entanglement of s-;ft
fins stewed in their own liquor. The flavor is
slightly salt, but exquisite Another traditional
¦ ish appears toward the close of the feast, in
the shape of a fat duck reposing in its broth.
Though boiled so thoroughly that a touch from
a cbopstJch dissolves it without aid of knife, the
bird appears on th. table with smooth white
breast and limbs intact, and its nobly tooth
some appearance is usually greeted with a buzz
of anticipatory applause.
The remaining items of the menu are < nly
curious from the mode of their selection, for
each guest chooses his own dish, taking car*
that it shall harmonize with th"s- already se
lected. One names i salmi of wild duck, his
neighbor a dish of stewed mushrooms, an>l so on.
Wine, as remarked, is drunk throughout, and
always hot (the Chinese eschew all cold drinks).
The iii.- being email, thtir number has little
effect; they cheer, but do not as a rule in
ebriate. Intoxication is extremely rare, though
not apparently from moral considerations so
much as from taoss of expediency, for Hpsincii
is not v rail] regarded as disgracing.
The finger game, resembling the Italian mora.
is played during meals, the loser swallowing as
penalty a cup of wine. Two men play at a
time. They show suddenly and simultaneously
a certain number of the fingers of one hand, and
as each thrusts them forth he shouts or squeals
the number which he thinks will be the total of
his own and hi* opponent's fingers. Thus, if A
thinks It is <?oing to put u;> three fingers he
¦bows four, ar.d calls '•Seven!" While B. expect
iner him to show two, himself shows one, and vo
i,f Tat -" "Three!" This simple game is im
mensely popular throughout the eighteen prov
Dishes are not, as a rule, cleared away during
meals, fu that toward the close of dinner the
table is slopped and strewn with debris, a veri
table field of carnage. From time to time the
convives retire to smoke, arid occasionally a re
fresher in the rtiape of :i coarse towel wrung
out of hot water is handed round for the guests
to successively wipe their steaming fares with —
an asjreable process that has been imitated in
the luxurious toilet rooms of the States. Th •
apothecsis of the dinner is the duck before al-
Inded to. He is succeeded by a few sweet dishes.
Finally comes a howl or two of white boiled rice
or mftiet porridge- to elpan the pa'at". (In
some, dinners rice is the chief ftenv In restaurant
dinners it :s rbrldly esclirded until the finale.)
Rince-boaehea of warm v.-at»r follow; then a cup
of tea. and the fea*>t is over.
The guests shortly- afterward disperse, the
host apologizing for the wretched dinner he has
dared to net before them. the guests po'ttely
protesting — emphasizing thefr sincerity and re
pletion by volleys of eructations.
When the giver of the feast leaves th» restau
rant the amount of the bills is. in his honor,
shrieked from court to court, as far as the
street door. A dinner such as described, for a
dozen people, woi'ld cost about :» shilling*,
would last three hours or sr>. and would inclu.l.,
great and small, more than fifty dishes.
EGYPT'S OLDEST MAN.
A NEW MUMMY AT THE BRITISH MUSKIM
PRESUKVED FROM PREHISTORIC TiMK
From The Sphere.
The Egyptian Gallery at the British Museum
has Juet come Into possession of the mummy el
a man wl.ich may well be the oldest known
body of any human being. The facts concern
ing It are briefly summed up in the following in
scription reproduced from the case containing
"Body of a man who was buried in a shallow
oval grave hollowed out of sandstone on the
west bank of the Nile in ITpper Egypt Hef r.«
burial the body was treated with a preparation
f»f bitum.-n and was arranged in the posture in
which it now lies, on it* left side, with the han«ls
before the face and the knees drawn up nearly
on a level with the chin. The grave (which h:ia
been roughly imitated by the model here ex
hibited) was covered with slabs of unwork>'l
stone, and in it beside the body were disposed
flint knives and a number of vases partly tl l l •• • J
with tht remains and dust of funeral offerings.
The man probably belonged to a fair skinn. d,
li^ht haired race, which may be regarded as one
of the aboriginal stocks of Egypt, whose settle
ments are usually found on the west bank of the
Nile. The style of the flint implements found
in the errave indicates that the man lived in th^
later neolithic period of Egypt, that is. in re
mote axes long before the rule of Menes. the
first historical King of Egypt."
The grave was first seen by a wandering Arab:
ho reported his discovery, to a British offlihl.
who immediately sr-nt a couple of Egyptian sol
diers to guard it day and night until it could be
safely removed. The body is not a mummy of
the ordinary historic Egyptian period such ai
that of Raraesos 11, the father of the Pharaoh of
th" Exodus. It was never bound up in linen "r
cased in any painted coffin, but was merely
coated with a preparation of bitumen, the Arabic
word for which is mumia; hence our word
mummy. To reach the period when this man
hunted along the banks of the Nile it is aoees
sarv to travel backward in time throuph th
modern period since Elizabeth, through Mediaeval
Europe, through the whole history of Rome and
Greece, past the time of the earliest mummied
king tht? museum possesses, past even Menes,
the earliest kins to which Egyptian rec
ords make reference, who, according to Ma
riette, ruled about 5004 B. C. Then we
arc UMMSJ two prehistoric races, one the
conquerors and the other the conquered,
out of which sprang the Egyptian race
of the earliest dynasties. It is with these
remote stocks that this man is connected. Con-
Bidering th>- con liiions in which he was found
it i.-- evident that he whs associated witn a late
period of the new Stone Age of Egypt. He is
buried in a characteristically neolithic grave
(the graves of this period are covered with rude
slabs of stone), and has neolithic pots and flint
implements beside him. They are like other
neolithic pots and chipped Hint weapons and
knives found in other parts of the world. The
fine, thin flint knives were perhaps placed in the
grave as part of a funeral ritual. They should
be compared with the Egyptian flints in the pre
historic section of the museum; they are almost
identical with those found in the grave. There
is, of eoorae, no inscription of any kind on the
rots, knives or grave, all havii-.R b*-en made, long
before th<- Invention of a written language. It
is curious to not-- lhat certain ancient Egyptian
documents mention traditions of a race called
the Trehennn. who had red hair and blue eyes.
This ruan has distinctly auburn hair. He was
buried on the western shore. In biter times
every Egyptian was buried on that side of the
river, and Egyptian models of the death boats
on which the bodies were ferried over the stream
may be se.-n in th" Egyptian Gallery.
THE LATE OBCAM WILDE.
REGRETFUL. REFLECTIONS OF HIS CLOSING
Paris correspondence of The London Chronicle.
About three weeks ago 1 was scouring Paris to
discover the address of a M. Sebastien Melnoth
for the purpose of verifying a statement that he
had been unjustly deprived of certain dramatic
rights of authorship. At length a French liter
ary friend informed me that the object of my
search was lying ill at a little hotel in the far off
Hue d- s Beaux Arts. To save time he had called
upon him in my name. M. Melnoth was Oscar
Wild.*. On the same evening I received a letter
in answer to my "petit bleu." I instantly an
swered this in person. The once brilliant and
adulated po> t-play wright, though in bed, looked
well in the face. The first part of the conver
sation on his side was a mixture of defiance and
bitterness. I did my best to console him. and
he suddenly burst into tears. I felt deeply
moved as he told the sad tale of blight and
mis ry through which he had passed. Men who
had been the recipients of sterling generosity
had betrayed him and trodden him under their
feet. Perhaps there was some justice in his
Then he turned to religious subjects, and mut
tered almost savagely, "Much of my moral
obliquity is due to the fact that my father would
not allow me to become a Catholic. The artistic
side of the Church and the fragrance of its
teaching would have curbed my degeneracies. I
Intend to be received before long." He spoke al
most smilingly of his operation, saying that it
would cost him MO, adding that he owed nearly
i!,(XX) francs to the hotel.
The operation in question was intestinal, and
then symptoms of cerebral meningitis set in.
Leeches were at pled to the ears, but the patient
sank away rapidly. Two kind friends. Mr. Rob
ert Ross and Mr. Turner, nursed him. while
Father <"uthl>< rt Dunn, one of the British Catho
lic chaplains from the Avenue Hoche. admin
istered the customary rites of the Church. Oscar
Wilde tried to articulate the prayers which ac
company extreme unction, and his deathbed waa
one of ropentatic>.
To-morrow morning the funeral service will
take place at the Church St. Germain dcs Pres,
after which the body will be interred in the Ba
gneux Cemetery. A small cross will surmount the
grave, with the following inscription: "Ci git
Oscar Wilde. PoCte et Auteur Dramatique.
R. 1 IV
LETTISH HER HAVE HER CHOICE.
From The Philadelphia Record.
Nell (excitedly)— Here's a telegram from Jack
Punter, of the 'Varsity team.
IU-lle— What's it say? . .
"It says: 'Nose broken. How do you prefer it
set— Greek or Roman?* **