will draw attention to his petty self. It is the spirit of knocking, strong in death.

Mr. Bierce is a very clever man, and no one may successfully deny that he is as expert in the handling of English words as Mr. Johnson, of ebon hue, is in the handling of his fists. It must be remembered that, publicly, these two worthies belong to the undesirable class. They are both knockers, after their kind, and of it. In his "Shadow on the Dial," Bierce's latest published aggregation of literary junk, he shows his ability to the best possible extent. He is clever, some of the sketches approach the dignity of "works," but he is not a great writer. Bile is the constitutional injunction that will forever debar Bierce from occupying a niche in the chamber of the Immortals in literature.

Bierce came into my mind as I thought of Peary and Cook. For Bierce there is an excuse in the fact that he does his knocking for money just as the "candied friend" of another journal does his clever satirical work for filthy lucre, too. The days of Junius died with Junius! His like is no more. We do not find the literary free-lance, but we do find the literary free-booter and grafter, such as Fraud Elbertus, and the literary Hessian, such as Bierce and the small fry, swarming about his boot-tops.

Jealousy has been said to be the inspiration of all human effort, and, of course, envy is a close relation. Peary, it seems to me, is the condensed essence of the fifty-seven different varieties of jealousy and envy. The wife of him is a good second.

After all, there is some question in the minds of the lay public as to what benefit has been conferred upon mankind by the achievement. It is doubtful if this benefit extends any farther than having stopped the usual foray on the pockets of rich men for hundreds of thousands of dollars to outfit polar expeditions. The polar graft will from now on suffer and languish. There will be no more extensive trading in fine furs, and the native will wait in vain for expeditions bringing in fool from the far-away. The Eskimo diet will now have a sameness that will be almost nauseating. Seal oil and whale's blubber, unless relieved by an occasional can of embalmed corn beef or entre mets of gumdrops, will pall on the Polar palate. And thus will Peary be avenged, for Cook's name will be execrated by the Polarians. Pate-de-fois-gras will be as scarce in Labrador and New Foundland as hen's teeth.

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In relation to the Bierce man and his strictures on the American navy and the American gunner, it must be borne in mind that the vulgarian is a Britisher of the frock-coat-adoring middle-class toadyism if not in fact. He has always seemed to me the embodiment in human form of a nest-befouling bird. In other days, he used to spume asthmatically at his betters in a weekly record of transient emanations a certain publisher, well known for monumental moral unworth. refused to father. The owner of the polecat refused to take the responsibility for the cat's odor.

Coming down to facts, we find that the cry of "no colliers for the navy" has very little foundation, and that, next to England, the United States has the largest and most conveniently located coaling stations of any nation. As to colliers, we find that, in case of a war on the seas, thousands of vessels are available at a mo

ment's notice, and that the coaling problem was the least of the difficulties that faced us in the Spanish-American war.

Admiral Dewey is maligned, in this article, in an effort to take away some of the glory in the taking of Manila. The story that Montojo's vessels were wrapped in ropes is made up of whole cloth, or twine, and is a lie ungarnished and stupid, and Bierce protects himself in malicious unveracity by saying that "all of the King's horses and all of the King's men" could not drag from him the name of the officer giving him the information that Dewey said to Brumby that he might "fire at those ropes" whenever he got ready.

I was there. I have seen the ships of Montojo. I have walked the decks of the vessels awash and aground at Cavite. I have seen the restored ships. I know what a fleet of that kind could have done to Dewey, reinforced by the Krupps of the Luneta battery, the fleet and the land forces of Spain, had they been commanded by Americans. Dewey, in command of Montojo's ships, would have sunk the Olympia, the Raleigh and the other toy American ships. The Luneta battery, in charge of Chaffee or Lawton, would have blown Dewey out of the water. Of course, the Spanish war was not a real war, but it might have been, and the Americans, who so gallantly carried our flag to the Orient, had no foreknowledge of the incapacity of the Spanish commanders.

Mr. Bierce's malignant adverse critique of the American navy is simply a rechauffee of Reuterdahl, and the public has placed its estimation on the Reuterdahl brand of expert (?) opinion. It is broadly hinted that Bierce's knowledge of the sea was obtained as a mercenary in the war of the Rebellion. Somebody tells me Bierce was a sutler or cook or tuba player in a regiment of foot. It is a safe bet that Bierce's warmed-over article will not create one-tenth the interest as that by the other Hessian, Reuterdahl.

make! I cannot recall any of the_saints who were mustachioed, and, in this particular, it would be an innovation; Saint Taft of Baguio and Manila! It sounds like the real thing. Taft's trip should be an eye-opener for certain politicians and for the great vested interests. Taft wants to be "the man at the wheel," and he is trying hard to be the people's man, but the people are in a hypercritical mood just now, and Taft's entourage is not to the public's liking. The public has had the brass band for four years, and the leader kept time with the big stick. It remembers the strenuous Teddy, with a sigh!

It would not be a bad idea to withhold judgment, but the public is ever hasty, and it may be that the popular verdict is already written. In that case, it is too bad, as it may be that the suave, smooth-thecorners-and-smile policy is the best, after all. It must not be forgotten, for an instant, that the executive is not to blame for our miserable system of government. The Fathers of the Republic started out with a government based on the broadest liberties, and gradually these liberties have taken the form of licenses and have later developed into special privileges, which bid fair to enslave each and every one of us to the other, according to our capacity for production. We have traveled far from the original idea when a Senator may acknowledge, without fear of impeachment, that he bought his seat in that august body of financial Dodos, and when another of the same ilk may say with impunity that the fixing of a tariff rate is not a question of protection, but a matter of trade and barter as a representative of special business or other interests in certain sections of the country. When we get back to the original idea that the lower House represents the people and the upper the will of the Legislatures, and that the President is simply an executive to see that the will of the legislative bodies, enacted as laws, is enforced, and that the President, outside of the veto or by recommendation by message and in time of war, has no initiative lawfully, then we shall have returned to the original concept. Our scheme of government is right, but we have wiped it out entirely, and have written clear across the page in red ink, "Spe

I would call the gentle reader's attention to the pages of this issue of the Overland Monthly. I want you to compare it with any magazine you may have at hand, page for page, and article for article, and then give judgment. I believe that it is one of the best magazines of the day. If you think so, too, tell your neighbor so, and swell our subscription list. We are growing all the time, but we want to grow faster, and you can help us, if you will. Boost the Overland Monthly. The best way to boost this magazine is to write to the advertiser and tell him you saw his advertisement in the Overland Monthly. That helps us and you, dear reader, too often forget this fact. ways mention the fact that you saw the ad. in the Overland Monthly.

Al

Taft has come out square-toed and flatfooted as being in favor of the Roosevelt theories. He should be given every chance to show what can be done with those theories, without the brass band and the club. It may be that, in the end, he will accomplish bigger and better things than ever were dreamt of by Roosevelt. Taft has said that he is in favor of a ship subsidy. He is also reported in favor of some sort of sound money program, something different from that now in vogue, and which gives to those controlling the money supply the power of levying taxes in a much larger sense than is granted the people's government by the people. Mr. Taft is in favor of the reclamation theories of Mr. Roosevelt, and of that of the good citizens who desire that our coal lands, our waters and our forests be kept in the public domain and not given away, for a song. Mr. Taft is on record as having said that he is in favor of giving the Interstate Commissioners greater power than they now possess. There are many ways of obtaining these not unmixed blessings for the people, and if Taft may have his way he is at least entitled to our confidence until we shall have seen some sign of incapacity.

It is true that his detractors point out the fact that he handed a sop to a Senator when Roosevelt would have singled out the

individual in question for a public roast. It is true that Ballinger's connection with the Cunningham land cases is not a pleas ant thing or a reassuring thing to look upon, but that incident is not yet closed! The goods have not been delivered to Cunningham, et al. Memory tells us that the Strenuous One made mistakes. It is not difficult to recall the stubborn adherence to the fool policy pursued in Venezuela. There was no attempt to palliate the error, but events followed one the other so fast that the public mind was never allowed to rest on the mistakes of Teddy long enough to recognize them as such. If any man needs a square deal it is William Howard Taft. Let us give it to him. Let forget the tariff.

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There is a slight discrepancy of fact and statement in "The Subjugation of Black Kettle" in July Overland Monthly. was no fault of the narrator, as an error was perpetuated in the record and made to read that the soldiers were "shooting down without mercy;" "slaughtering:" etc. The shooting of the women and children was done, but by the twelve Osage Indian scouts; this being no uncommon practice in Indian warfare. As to my report to General Custer, the fact was that I said to him that the party of Indians to the south of us was being pursued by Meyers' troops and that there were many women and children with them. Custer ordered me to ride out to them and have the women and children (squaws and pappooses) taken to some of the largest tepees, and the best for their accommodation in the village, and that when they were thus located he would put a guard over them.

Otherwise the article is accurate in all respects, but in honor to good soldiers and brave men, I should be obliged if you would make this correction, that the story may be flawless, for in all other respects it is one of the most critically correct stories of Indian warfare I have read, but then, the Overland Monthly has had several of them lately. Very truly yours,

BEN CLARKE.

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HE LONGER a man lives, and the wider become his experiences, the more he learns to love freedom. In the little book of Mr. Zueblin, "The Religion of a Democrat," you can hear the far cry of the eagle, and soar with him through the upper atmosphere. Our petty notions about politics, church, party, sect, are left way below us. Mr. Zueblin would have men free to develop themselves, and he would make them so by establishing all the necessary social conditions. He would free men from the control of fear-a control which is to-day, in its four prominent forms, the dominant controlling agency of society. We are governed by the fear of the living and the fear of the dead. We are governed by fear of retaliation, fear of public opinion, of the law and of the church. We must rise above all thesenot that we should throw off their control, but that the sentiment which moves us must be something higher than fear.

Mr. Zueblin's Democrat does not live under a representative regime, but in one of direct individual action. The referendum and initiative are his, and his deputies are not his masters. Now this is clearly a state of socialism, and Mr. Zueblin has not shown us in his book how individual freedom can co-exist with unbridled power of the whole society no matter how exercised. There appears to be no taking into account of the ethical sentiment which normal society activity is evolving out of our long regime of fearcontrol. The ethical sentiment, which is the only moral control possible, already displays itself at certain times and places; and it is only through the adequate development of this sentiment, the last in a long series of evolving sentiments, that

society can attain ideal conditions, wherein desires and appetites are spontaneously regulated with no loss of happiness. For one of the elements of sentiment is justice and the other an enlightened and educated sympathy.

Unfortunately, in a society where the many absolutely control the individual, small opportunity exists for the ethical sentiment to develop. Socialism, in other words, is not the ideal state. However, Mr. Zueblin's book is invigorating, and one loves freedom more than ever after reading it.

The Art of Selling Things.

According to the latest available figures more than six million persons in this country are engaged in selling things; and of this vast army fully one million are commercial travelers. It would seem, therefore, that there is a large audience for Mr. James H. Collins' entertaining little work entitled "Human Nature in Selling Goods."

The author's main contention is that the man with the best practical knowledge of human nature will make the most successful salesman. He realizes that severa varied types of man attain high success; but he sees an under-lying similarity in their methods.

Mr. Collins is no mere theorist. On the contrary, he illustrates every point he makes by anecdotes based on actual happenings. The scope of his little book is unusually broad, and discusses the selling of every imaginable commodity from life. insurance to fireproof safes. The general reader will be amazed by the extent to which the larger houses have reduced salesmanship to a science.

"Human Nature in Selling Goods," by James H. Collins: Henry Altemus Co., Philadelphia.

Mr. Edwin Balmer has written a most charming bit of fiction in "Waylaid by Wireless." Mr. Balmer is no novice, and he has already a big following in the world of readers. This new book has the fascination of newness in plot, and is really most up to date and cannot be beaten save by the enterprising novelist who will combine aviation with the wireless means of transmitting messages and carry off his heroes and heroines through the air instead of in a commonplace gunboat or fishing schooner.

Mr. Balmer gives us charming bits of travel, and for this alone the book is worth while. There is wit, delicious and impenetrable mystery, and splendid descriptive ability, and what more do you want? Is not this compound made of the parts that go to make a fine hammock companion or an extraordinary bracer for a sea voyage? There are three chief characters, if I may be allowed three chiefs: Dunneston, the Englishman; Preston, the young American engineer; and Ethel Varis, a clever American girl. You should get acquainted with all three. They are a distinctly valuable addition to your calling list among the bookish heroines and heroes. Wireless, of course, plays an important part in unfolding the plot of the story.

Small, Maynard & Company, Boston, Massachusetts.

There is the usual run of literature for the readers of all sizes and ages being produced at a rate that appals at this season of the year. It is the time when we begin to think of the book as a release from almost any other gift during the holiday season. The book is always a safe refuge, and it is a delightful task to select books, according to the character of your victim. You buy the book and the recipient does the swearing. He or she can go through mental gymnastics trying to find out just what it was that prompted you to send such an inane or ponderous thing as a present.

Ada Woodruff Anderson has written a story that is not especially strong in "The Strain of White." It is located in the Puget Sound country, and there is the usual Indian maiden, Francesca by name,

and she is the daughter of the commandant at Fort Nisqually, and who had as mater an Indian woman of the Yakima tribe. The description of the events and the scenery of the early fifties is very interesting, but the book cannot be called a great one, nor can it be dubbed bad or badly done. The story is timely in one thing: it culminates in the Indian attack on Seattle, and also that, coming at the time of the Alaska Yukon Exposition, and containing as it does much information that is not obtainable elsewhere without much research, it should command a sale throughout the Northwest.

Who is there that does not remember "The Lady of the Decoration ?" It was Frances Little's first big seller, and it is still going some. It has gone through thirty-three editions. But that's not the story in point. The fact is, that Frances Little has written another book, and it is one that would please the most confirmed sybarite or the gleesome gigglety college girl. It is a delightful little thing, and it is most charmingly illustrated, and the Century Company is the publisher. The drawings are by Genjiro Kataoka, and they are fine examples of the modern Japanese art. They are in soft colors, and are agreeable to a degree. The book is called "Little Sister Snow." The story is a cameo, and the illustrations are opals. If you would please any one infinitely, then give them the story of Yuki San.

It is a far cry from Yuki San to Dry Farming, but it's dollars to doughnuts that when the Snow Lady is as forgotten as her love for Merritt San, the book on dry farming by William MacDonald will be held as one of the text books indispensable to the home of every farmer in the West. Mr. MacDonald has gone into the subject most exhaustively, and he has illustrated the volume with special photographs cleverly showing by camparison the fertility of soil on which scientific effort is expended, and that upon which no effort has been made. This book is of great value to all agriculturists, but much more so the farmer of the semi-arid West. The Century Company is the publisher. Mr. MacDonald is an old friend of Overland Monthly readers.