The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-02-19

ly and with method and assimilated
difficult questions to his mind with
marvellous quickness. He demonstrat-
ed the strength and the weakness of
an argument and called attention to the
paradox.
His love of truth was of use to him
there as always, since it freed him from
prejudice and refreshed his langud
strength. Long Winded theories both
cred him: Let us get forward to the
picture can see the movement of
his hand sweeping aside mere words. -
Or his habits of work his son SAYS
If ever methods of work were sub
mitted to the rules of natural law. they
were his. In his turbulent youth he
never seated himself at his writing
table except when bound by his
subject He stated that a talent
was an intensity of life; and
when writing his stories arose
at an early hour and went at
once to work on his task without other
means of excitement than a dip in cold
water; then he covered page after page
with that close-set, nervous and ele-
CANT handwriting of his which his
illness made still more delicate
without taking from it any of it's at
tributes. Many time have 1 re-
marked upon the likeness of his graphic
type to that of Jean Jacques Rousseau.
There are the same excessively minute
distinctions, proof of that formula.
Later on, through the happy infu-
ence of his direct collaboration he
made channels for and regulated his
wonderful faculty as an improvisor. He
got the habit of daily work and, as
usually happens; his brain became more
subtle in response to the appeal and
submitted to his discipline. Fremont
Jenne ct Risler Aine,' jack lie Ma
bab,' Les Rois en- Exil,' 'L'Evangeliste'
and others were so many continuous
and unbending efforts. Summer or
winter he had the same intervals be-
tween words and letters, the same care
in punctuation and the same sharpness
in the handwriting.
He erased with courage and fire.
quently; at the first blush a mere
sketch served as it were for a canvas.
My mother and he then took this
monster up again, expanding the
greatest pains on its style and bring
ing into relationship that harmonious
ness and that need to be real which
were always the writer's case. With
out my wife 1 should have given myself
up to my facility for writing. 1t was
only later that perfection tormented
me-
After that slow and disagreeable
proving, the third and finished conv
was made. Those whose imaginations
are in state of flame may readily nm
derstand the peculiar merit in sacri-
ficlng go to eXactness and making en-
thuslasm, perfect. In my fathers soul
the word itself was that which called
the idea forth.
My father was Latin genius, and
was the possessor of a sense of pro
portion and of measure.
The literary society of Alphonse in
cluded the greatest Frenchmen Of the
day.
THE most brilliant and precious SOIL
venirs for that generation Of writer's
were the afternoons at Flaubert's
'Pshaw we shall never sell ourselves
shall we?' Emil Zola used to say. with
touch of melancholy. But regrets
vanished at the sound of the fine
thunder which rolled about all sorts
of discussions tumult of ideas and
words. Silent and hard to read Tour
geneff sat by himself in corner keep
ing his actual impressions for himself
alone, but esteemed by all. Not until
after his death were they to know
what his impressions were, and then
they made men sad
"Maupassant already showed himself
| LillliNly, anu Il letuptll was DOdSjlng of
| his first attempts. l have often heard
Goncourt or my father regret those
warm hearted meetings in which the
| word 'confraternity' had a meaning
| and in which the philosophy of pass
| ing events ran the gauntlet of half
dozen powerful brains, which con
! tact with one another and the desire
| to shine reused to fever heat We kent
| the best of ourselves for those mpor-
4 in would thfnly 70
shall tell him this; or else, | shall read
! that page and take their advice on il
| No trucking, no servnity! Neither mn
/ pills, nor masters, but comrades. ra
| spectful to the older men, warmine
! themselves in the reflection of thei5,
glory and proving by their choice thai
In our profession there is something.
else beside money and vanity!
THAT was no cenaculum where die
] appointed ambitions meet to dine tbat
was no scandal shop where absences
| were torn to pieces. And when Elan
1 bert died | can still see the sorrow,
they all felt; a few days before tbero
had been reunion of the faithful ~
Croisset, little literary picnic, from
which they returned delighted sim
! ilarly ! recall the week thai nreced,,l
the death Of my father-and The dinnar
in memory of Balzac, organized to ,el
new the fine traditions of old tn
were lola, Barras Anatole Franra
Bourget and my father; it was aor,
dial and charming meeting. Amon.,
many subjects that of death was sna
ken OF. Bourget recalled the fact tbat
| in his last moments Tame had osi,@s
to have a page of Sante- Beuve Taed
to him, in order to hear sometbino
j that was clear ms
j The gospels made the tears coma
into his. eyes. In the practice of reii1-
lon he loved the pomp and ceremony
= he loved professions and the charming