the clue we had. Miss Jones kept writing for news of "her little story," but she never gave us its title. We could not ask her, because we did not know where she lived. So we waited meekly,

hoping that some day she might deign to enlighten us. In the meantime, she wrote-and wrote-and wrote! clamouring as only "an injured, virtuous female" can clamour! finally threatening as with "legal proceedings," which, however, she has not yet instituted. To this day-it is two years since the last instalment of abuse reached us-we have not found her "story without a name"! We can only surmise that a short MS. bearing the signature of "Sappholina" is the one in question; but we cannot write and ask her. We can only permit the fast-discolouring sheets to lie untouched at the bottom of a reserve waste-basket, which we keep for unclaimed properties. Perhaps some day Miss Fanny Jones will condescend to let us know what she called her story, as well as the address at which a letter would be likely to find her. In the meantime, Sappholina's "first attempt" is turning very yellow, and being written with a pen like a pin, and the palest of ink, is gradually, like the victims of the Boojum, "softly and silently vanishing away."

One would hardly credit the fact of Miss Jones's carelessnessor stupidity, rather-in writing to us, without giving her address, or mentioning her MS. by name. We can only suppose that once, long, long ago, she did tell us where she lived, and, having done so, thought we should remember it for evermore. The truth seems to be that both Mr. A- and Miss Fanny, and the multitudes of literary aspirants of whom they are the type, really and truly believe that they are the only writers in the world! and that, on that particular day at least, we received only their letters, and only their MSS., and that we were so much at leisure, that there was nothing to prevent onr sitting down at once, there and then, and relieving their anxieties by return of post!

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Now, if people who really can write, and have really something to write about, would take all possible pains, and comply with all the common rules of authorship-carefully reading, for instance, two or three properly-printed, well-known books, a process by which they might learn how the thing is done!-how much money and trouble and loss of temper would editors and publishers' readers be spared; and how very much worry and trouble and inevitable disappointment the voluntary contributors themselves would be saved!-to say nothing of the time and the stationery and the postage-stamps, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, needlessly consumed.

Perhaps the saddest aspect of all, which the Editor's position entails, is that of receiving letters and MSS. from unfortunate

persons who are actually in pecuniary need, if not in direct poverty, and who take this method-a forlorn hope, alas !-of replenishing the empty exchequer. There are many such appeals, and they actually drove Thackeray from the Editorial chair! Were one-half, or even one-quarter, of these pitiful "attempts" printed, there would soon be no more periodicals of any kind to edit, to publish, or to print! Periodicals are expensive things to keep up; they are positively ruinous if they do not pay; and if they are filled with weak, vapouring sentiment, heavy padding, and uninteresting matter generally, they will not pay; and they will, perforce, very speedily cease to live. It is, therefore, simply suicidal to insert trashy articles of any description, out of pure pity, since all will suffer in the end; but it is most painful to be compelled to refuse needy applicants who beg you, almost in God's name, to accept their contributions, which are, in every point of view, quite useless, and could not be printed for manifold and weighty reasons. Not long since, I received a letter from an Irish lady, the widow of a clergyman,-left, with her family, entirely unprovided for. She implored me to give her a regular place on the staff of both the periodicals with which my name is connected, adding that she had no alternative but to get her living by her pen ! She will no more get her living "by her pen," poor soul, than I shall get mine by making steam locomotives or laying down railways! As well might a common sempstress propose to undertake the complications of M. Worth's most elaborate confection! or a "plain cook," who cannot boil a potato as it ought to be boiled, or poach an egg presentably, undertake the artistic marvels of a cordon bleu!

But there is, happily, another side to this miserable picture. If the Editor's heart is too often rent in twain by piteons appeals to which he cannot and must not respond, he has still the exquisite pleasure of helping those who will go on to help themselves. I have at this moment regular contributors, whose MSS. I am always glad to see, knowing that they will worthily fill the pages I control, whose early efforts were far inferior to their present productions. But these young writers did their best to be thorough, and to abide by editorial law. Moreover, they received gratefully the criticisms and admonitions that fell to their share, and strove earnestly to correct the faults which were pointed out. I am proud and happy to say that I have been able to lend a helping hand to many a trembling aspirant who was striving to surmount the first steep steps of the literary ladder. Good and thorough work, patiently and carefully done, will always, sooner or later, find its own exceeding great reward.

To those young authors who are desirous of doing their best, I

would say, strive on, and do not be discouraged; failures often teach more than successes; and it is indeed "truth the poet sings," that

"Men may rise on stepping-stones

Of their dead selves to higher things."

This is as true in literary labour as in anything else. There are a few rules to which you must always conform. Shall I enumerate them? Though supposed to be universally known, we are continually finding them broken or disregarded :

1. Write on one side of your paper only.

2. Page your sheets on the right-hand corner.

3. If your MS. is not of the shortest, divide it into chapters, and give headings to those chapters; not mottoes necessarily, but a sort of title suggestive of the subject treated.

4. Vary the length of your paragraphs, and take care not to "run in" conversations.

5. On every MS. write your full name and address, adding in parentheses (Miss) or (Mrs.) as the case may be.

6. In the letter which accompanies your MS-which is probably posted separately as a "book parcel "-state what it is called, and what the nom-de-plume, if any.

7. Till you are a recognised contributor, and consequently in correspondence with the editor, let your contributions be not too long. The modest merit of "not too much" holds good in serial literature as in many other things.

There are other essentials which might, perhaps, be named; but these are for the time sufficient, if my intending contributors will only "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them." And be sure, oh, friends! that you have something to write about before you put pen to paper. Be sure to remember that grammatical accuracy is imperative, and that "all the parts of a sentence should correspond with each other"-a good old rule of the good old days when people pinned their faith on to Lindley Murray, and wrote pure English. Be sure also to mind your stops. An unpunctuated MS. is a dreadful nuisance, and is generally "declined" after the briefest examination.

There are several minor cautions which it might be quite as well, perhaps, to give. Without being botanists, you ought to keep your eyes open sufficiently to observe the times and the seasons of the flowering of wild and garden plants. The jumble that some people make of their flowers is really absurd. I remember a very clever novel which appeared a few years ago in which the hero and hercine sat under the blossoming limes, and at the same time in

haled the fragrance of the lilac! It must, indeed, be a sight to see lime-trees and lilacs simultaneously in bloom!

If you are not to make yourself ridiculous you must bear in mind that in a natural way snowdrops and mignonette cannot be plucked together, and you cannot gather autumn flowers in early spring; nor, vice versa. Neither are poppies common in April, nor daffodils in September! Above all, do not represent three or four full moons as shining in one month; and observe that nightingales do not sing in August! certainly not in this country. Note the times. at which birds do sing, and flowers bloom and fade, and at which foliage presents certain varying characteristics. Every literary aspirant should be an attentive pupil in the school of Nature. The man or the woman who would write worthily must study ceaselessly and devoutly, the glorious book of Nature, which lies wide open that all who will may read and learn.

Lastly, I would strongly advise all authors who introduce lords and ladies into their stories, to study the Peerage, and inform themselves of the rightful style and title by which these personages should be introduced. No lady of lower rank than an earl's daughter has any claim to a title in her own right. An earl's daughter by birth is "Lady Mary," or "Lady Rose"; a viscount's daughter is only the "Honourable Miss -"; the daughters

of barons and baronets are simply "Miss," like any other young lady whom one ordinarily meets.

Dakes, marquises, and earls have usually a second and inferior title, which by courtesy is always given to the eldest son. Thus the eldest son of a duke is a marquis; the eldest son of a marquis is an earl; the eldest son of an earl a viscount, which title is in every case retained till he succeeds his father, and transfers his own rank to his eldest son in turn. The younger sons of dukes and marquises are "Lord John," "Lord Charles," &c., and their wives are "Lady John" or "Lady Charles." A lady "in her own right " married to a commoner retains her title always; her husband, by his marriage, gains no accession of rank,

It may seem to many, I dare say, a most superfluous thing to write thus on points which educated people are all supposed to understand. But, alas, sad experience convinces me that at least one-third of my contributors are either not "educated," or else superbly careless. I could, at this moment, lay my finger on several stories sent for approval-rather pretty stories in their way, but full of the most absurd misstatements in this very particular, I have by me a tale in which a baronet's daughter is "Lady Matilda," and another in which a commoner, on marrying the daughter of an earl, becomes, in consequence, a nobleman! It is quite a common error to introduce in fiction a viscount's

daughter as "Lady Eleanor' or "Lady Anne," which she can never be, unless, indeed, the viscount himself becomes an earl, either on succession, or by rank conferred by his sovereign.

This, I think, is about the last caution I have time to give, or else I might go on and fill every page of this number with serviceable warnings and suggestions. But no amount of instruction can ever profit people who will not think for themselves, and who look upon literature as mere amusement, and upon authorship as a diversion, or easy employment, needing no special education, which any one who has the command of pen and ink and leisure may take up without scruple, and with the delightful hope of making money.

And yet there is no profession more truly sacred than authorship; like the ministry, it ought to be a vocation rather than a profession. A bad sermon may be forgotten almost as soon as delivered; a bad book lives for generations. Authorship is work, work of the most serious kind, and it must be done for God, if it is to command His blessing; not for fame, not for emolument, though both are quite lawful, and even praiseworthy, as secondary aim3. Honest, well-earned fame is highly to be prized. "Thank God for well-earned fame," wrote one of our best and noblest women-writers. Nor is money at all to be despised; in this life we cannot live respectably without it, and the labourer is worthy of his hire whether he till the soil, or preach the Gospel, or writebooks or magazine articles.

Try, my friends, to put your very best self into all you write. Rouse yourselves, you who have been content hitherto with mediocrity, and with the merest common places; abandon all your slovenly habits, both of style and of construction; try to round your sentences, to make careful choice of figures and metaphors, and, if you can, cultivate the thoughtful and the forcible, rather than the weakly sentimental, which is so apt to figure too largely in early compositions. Do not confound depth of thought with mere heaviness; and, above all, be careful at all times not to let sprightliness degenerate into flippancy! It should be borne in mind that the sparkle of wit-true wit-and the flashy banter of frivolity, which is nearly always valgar, are perfectly distinct and separate

emanations.

Literature is a jealous mistress! If you are to win her highest favours, you must serve her from your very heart, with pure and steadfast aims, and with unswerving devotion. True and worthy authors, who alone have place in the great temple of literature, are dedicated to the noblest toil on earth! They rank with the ministers of God's Word, and in another way they do His work, for all authorship that is not to the glory of God, and does not