The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-04-02

appearance as a novelist, and in ii,
learn, he is to make very sharp turn
on himself. He is going to fall into the
rank of the romantic-historical fellows
who, at least in the way of trade, seem
still to enjoy a very large fraction of
the earth. In The Celebrity" it will
be recalled Mr. Churchill stuck so close
TO his own generation that Immediately
1t became a popular sport with readers
and reviewers to hunt out in real life
the originals of his characters. AS the
model for the celebrity himself, Mr..
Richard Harding Davis was quite open
ly pointed at, and Mr.. Churchill was
even charged with having written his
Satirical tale for no other reason thaa
to pay a. private Srudge. These person
al interpretations became so irritating
to him at last that he took notice of
them in a public letter. He denied the
whole imputation-first in general
terms, and then specifically. The Celeb
rity, he declared, was in character. ap-
pearance and general manners entirely
imaginary, no one at all resembling
him existed among the authors per-
sonal acquaintance, and so far from
seeking to pay off personal grudges in
the creation, Mr.. Churchill asserted
that he had no personal grudges to pay
off.
Perhaps it is not so much to secure a
share of the plums that seem to fairly
fall into the mouths of the historic-ro-
mantle novelist, as to avoid the posi-
bility of repetition of these annoyanceS,
that Mr.. Churchill now makes so radi-
cal q, change of ground. Whether he is
deliberately seeking it or not. his safety
against further suspicion of personal
malice Will be assured. His new hero
is to be a Richard" and his heroine
a Dorothy" and all that befalls will
befall 100 years back, and in the royal
province of Maryland. There could be
no more personal offense in such a
story than if it We're writ in choice
Italian" like the play of ''Gonzago"-
though even "GonZago" did, [ believe,
encounter some suspicion in the minds
of the managers mother and step
father, Queen and King of Denmark.
Speaking of tic-historical nov
els, Mr.. Stanley ]. Weyman really has
much to answer for. 1t was he, more
lhan any other, who set flowing the tide
which has now grown into such a. flood.
His own first ventures in this field had
quick and very large success. And
they well merited it, for they were
wrought out in the most conscientious,
skillful Way-written from abundant in
formation, and with a literary finish
that Mr.. Weyman had spent laborious
years in acquiring; but they suggested
to other young writers what seemed,
and what indeed has proved, a very
easy method. Scrape together from old
memoirs and histories a good selection
of romantic incidents, and present them
in a connected and more or less dra-
matte order, in a more or less anti
quated phraseology, and there you are
"a recognized, Well-paid writer of his
torical novels. In Mr.. Weyman's own
hands, as have indicated, the method
was anything but easy; he, from the
first, strove for something like literary
perfection, and for a good while his
career was an extraordinarily tough
struggle. Here are some Eery interest
ing literary confessions he made two or
three years ago to his, friend, r. II.
Sherard:
Then" said he-this was after an
untoward venture at the bar and some
utterly disheartening experiments in
newspaper wCrk-"then l tried short
stories for the magazines, and failed at
that, until one day there came into my
hands Anstey's tale, The Black Poo
die about which everybody was talk
ing. / said to myself: Let me see Why
everybody is talking about this story,
and 1 took it home and read and reread
it. till 1 came to the conclusion that its
captivation lay in the fact of the ex-
IRENE carefulEess of its workmanship.
l pulled il to pieces sentence by SEN
tence, and saw that each sentence had
ben polished and elaborated till no
further elaboration was possible. So l
determined that 1 would also elaborate
and polish, and these things l did in a
story which I wrote and called King
Pippin and Sweet Give l sent il to
the Cornhill. James Payn read it. and
so greatly approved of it that he asked
me up to the Office and encouraged me
to continue writing. But he said,
why do you not write a novel? You
can never make an income out of writ
ing short stories.
q answered: Sir, ! have no idea of
plot-construction-s as is neces-
sary for the production of a novel; And
then the kind man gave me a full hour
Of his time in q pateTnal discourse on
the carpentry Of fiction. He encourag ed
me TO try, and 1 did try, and again /
failed ] wrote q novel of modern life
and it was lamentably bad. l never
made more than $50 $3.50 a year dur
ing all those years.
ct was by mere accident that 1 was
put on the road which has led newell.
towel, to being respectfully greeted
by the clerks at that bank over the
way. ! was p in London and was sit
ting in the smoking room Of the New
University club, thinking rather de-
spondently of my past and even more
despondently Of my future. when | hap
pened to notice on the little table which
stood by the chair on which | was sit
ting a COPY OF Professor Bair1's His
tory of the Huguenots.' / took ii up
rather mOurnfully and turned over its
leaves. Those were Rider Haggard's
imperial days, the days when fiction to
be popular and marketable had to
rumble with thunder and drip with
blood. And the book in my hand set me
thinking that one might successfully
write of carnage and the stir Of arms in
a period which was elegant and refined
and thought of the Huguenots and ST
Bartholomew eve, and later. as I was
washing my hands. ] thought out the
plot of The House of the Wolf AT
that time / had not forgotten what I
had learned as 10 the absolute necessity
of taking pains, and over that story I
spent indefinite labor. ] polished and
rewrote and touched and retouched
and I could with difficulty in the end
allow myself to Jet it go forth wonder
ing whether ali had bean well said. no
word or deed forgot. 1t was accepted
and from the serial use Of it and the
book rights / derived in all the sum of
eco $1,000"
/ don't think the ordinary members
of the Weyman school have ever vet
or indeed ever will, sweat oyer their
work in any such heroic fashion as this
of the master.
Some one mentioned to Charles Bat
tell LOOMS the other day the fact of
new financial difficulty in one of our
large book-S9lling establishments that
has had a succession of such difficult
Ties of late Yes" said Loomis. in his
sad, signing way, they fail often.
mad TO go in there q. day or two ago
and 1 hurried out for fear they might