real merit, and a thousand futile imitations of Dumas, and Scott, and Thackeray's "Esmond." The "prithees" have disappeared from the books of subsequent years, yet Mr. Don Marquis is of the opinion that their place has been taken by the already overworked word, "reactions."

Perhaps a bird's-eye glance at the conspicuous books of the recent past would not be without profit. Great sellers of the 'eighties that come to mind are General Lew Wallace's "Ben Hur," and those extraordinary early sensational novels of Archibald Gunter, notably "Mr. Barnes of New York," which, after being rejected everywhere, was published at the author's own expense and sold two million copies. Of the mid-'nineties Du Maurier's "Trilby" was undoubtedly the most striking success, although Anthony Hope's "The Prisoner of Zenda" stimulated into new and at times uncomfortably vigorous life a school that had had its beginning with Stevenson's "Prince Otto." But the But the furor stirred by "Trilby" and "Zenda" had died down before the real wave of prosperity for authors and publishers came. It was the ending of the old century and the beginning of the new that saw that wave lapping at the high water mark.

HISTORICAL NOVELS OF YESTERDAY

O-DAY the historical novel is almost a rarity. Twenty years ago it weighted down the deck chairs of trans-Atlantic liners and the cushioned chairs of drawing-room cars. At the head of the list for January, 1901, reflecting the activities of the preceding year, were Mary Johnston's "To Have and to Hold," a story of colonial Virginia; Charles Major's "When Knighthood Was in Flower," a story of Tudor England; and Winston, Churchill's "Richard Carvel," and Paul Leicester Ford's "Janice Meredith," stories of the American Revolution. Advance a decade. Florence Barclay's "The Rosary," Mary Roberts Rinehart's "When a Man Marries," Winston Churchill's "A Modern Chronicle"-these were the books that stood out as the conspicuous examples of material success just ten years ago. Five years ago the books that corresponded to these were Gene Stratton-Porter's "Freckles " and "A Girl of the Limberlost," Harold Bell Wright's "The Eyes of the World," Winston Churchill's "A Far Country," Eleanor H. Porter's "Pollyanna Grows Up," and Booth Tarkington's "The Turmoil."

To those readers who are not absolutely of the new generation there is a certain pride in the enduring qualities of the novels of yesteryears that were found not wanting. The name of Winston Churchill appeared in the lists of twenty years ago, of ten years ago, and of five years ago; and the chances are that it will be appearing five years hence. The success of "Richard Carvel" is not news; but the fact that it was 1920 when the total sales of that book reached 659,000 copies is news. It was some years ago that an industrious person of a statistical turn of mind figured out that four thousand spruce trees had to be cut down in order that "Richard Carvel" could be printed. And that was considerably before the figure of sales had reached 659,000. Mr. Churchill is typical of a number of writers who belong both to yesterday and to-day. Of the Americans, Booth Tarkington, James Lane Allen, Edith Wharton, Stewart Edward White, Gene Stratton-Porter with her total sale of more than eight million copies, Irving Batcheller, Joseph C. Lincoln, Owen Wister, and Gertrude Atherton belong to that group. The success of the moment inevitably calls attention to the durability of certain of their successes of the past. For example, soon to be published is Mr. Owen Wister's "Our Fight, Too," which aims to do sympathetically for France what the widely read "A Straight Deal" of a year or so ago did sympathetically for England. Mention of Mr. Wister's name gives the opportunity to impart the information that the total sales of his "The Virginian,' which originally appeared in 1902, recently passed the one million mark. Although Jack London died five years ago, it was at so early an age that he seems almost of to-day. Eight hundred thousand copies are the latest figures for his "The Call of the Wild," a success which will rejoice every lover of a fine dog story. So far as permanence of sale goes, James Lane Allen's "The Choir Invisible" is in the class with "The Virginian" and "The Call of the Wild," and, speaking of dog stories, Alfred Ollivant's "Bob, Son of Battle" is as striking an example of the permanence of sale as one could find, for year in and year out it sells steadily and surely. Last year, in a similar article in the WORLD'S WORK, the stories of the continued successes of Booth Tarkington, Stewart Edward White, and Irving Batcheller were told. Mrs. Wharton's "The Age of Innocence," is in its seventh printing, and

these printings have ranged in number from 50,000 to 10,000 copies. Joseph C. Lincoln's The Portygee" has outsold even "The Age of Innocence," although the literary columns of the newspapers and magazines have not paid anything like the attention to it that they have to the Wharton volume. But Mr. Lincoln's books are amazingly popular in small communities all over the country. Every book he has written has sold better than the previous volume. The sales of his "Shavings" were many thousands of copies greater than of

"Main Street" there have been expressed as many different opinions as there are copies sold of the average published novel. Nearly everything possible in praise or disparagement has been said of the book except that no one has yet suggested that it has not been adequately advertised. And, save in a mood of heavy irony, no one will. "Main Street" has been receiving more indirect advertising than any other book within memory.

""
THE STORY OF MAIN STREET"

WAS five or six years ago that Sinclair

gee," which followed "Shavings," has outsold its predecessor.

Of the Englishmen, there is W. J. Locke, the continued success of whose novels in this country shows that "The Beloved Vagabond," and "The Morals of Marcus Ordeyne" were no mere flashes in the pan. His American publishers already have twenty-three of Mr. Locke's novels on their lists, and the novels go with a popularity that justifies a first printing of 50,000 copies for every one, and requires that every title be kept continually in print. Total Locke sales are now more than 1,000,000 copies. One million copies is the latest estimate of the total sales in this country of the books of Arnold Bennett. This includes his plays and essays as well as his novels. The name of H. G. Wells will come up again in connection with his "Outlines of History." In the meantime of some interest is the fact that the sale of "Mr. Britling Sees It Through" recently reached 245,000 copies. A few years ago a new edition of the old books of Leonard Merrick was launched in the United States. More than one hundred thousand copies of that edition have already been sold. Thomas Hardy, eighty-one years old this year, has contributed a general preface to the recently published Anniversary Edition of his works, as well as new introductions to the individual volumes. The sales of separate volumes of Hardy's books in this country have amounted to approximately 180,000 copies, the biggest seller having been "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," with 60,000.

The reading public is naturally interested in new literary figures, and conspicuous among such figures in the last twelve or eighteen months are Sinclair Lewis, Floyd Dell, and Scott Fitzgerald, respectively the authors of "Main Street," "Moon-Calf," and "This Side of Paradise." About Sinclair Lewis's

to the head of the publishing house that for the last six months has been struggling with the problem of supplying the public demand for copies of the book, and proffered the information that he had an important secret to impart. Then, after enjoining guarded discretion, and, in the proper manner of romantic fiction, peering behind all the furniture and making sure that there was no one listening at the keyhole, he whispered that he was going to write a book and that the subject and title of it was to be "Main Street". The publisher did not laugh. He believed both in the idea and in the man, and many times in the course of the long months that elapsed between the day of that talk and the day when the manuscript was eventually turned over to him for reading, he spurred the author on with words or letters of encouragement.

Born in the Middle West, educated at Yale, at various times a reporter (to use his own words, "frequently fired") on papers of New Haven, Connecticut, and San Francisco, in a spirit of adventure a cattleman on transAtlantic vessels and a tramp in half a dozen countries of Europe, Sinclair Lewis had the basic experience to fit him to write the projected and long meditated novel. But with the writing actually before him he felt the need of rekindling the fires of impression. So traveling in his "flivver" from state to state and from town to town he investigated a hundred Main Streets. He went to St. Paul and studied it for use in his opening chapters. He went to Sauk Center, Minn., where he was born, and where, like the Dr. Will Kinnecutt of the novel, his father had been a local practitioner. That does not necessarily mean that Sauk Center was the Gopher Prairie of the story, but it was there that Sinclair Lewis absorbed the atmosphere, and the life of the community

during the long bleak months of winter. And when the notes, laboriously and painstakingly jotted down, had been transformed into the novel, the publisher who had believed from the first saw that his faith had been builded upon a stout foundation.

In August, 1920, more than three months before the date set for publication, the first advertisement of "Main Street" was printed, prophesying a book destined to provoke controversy, and to attract wide attention. Ten thousand copies was the figure originally decided upon for the first edition, but that figure was increased to fifteen thousand. The date of October 14th for the appearance of "Main Street" was, owing to complications unforeseen, changed to October 23rd. But several advance copies that had been sent out for review purposes could not be recalled. From one of these copies Heywood Broun wrote the article that set the book in motion, saying that at last an American novel of the first order had been found. The article appeared in the New York Tribune for October 21, 1920, and at once the clamor for copies of the story began.

Buoyed up by early success the publishers advertised, prophesying on the first of January last that the year 1921 would see the sale of the book reach 100,000 copies. That figure was reached in eight weeks. From October till late December the plates were kept continually on the presses. The usual lull that comes between Christmas and New Year's was seized as an opportunity to withdraw them in order to have another set made. Since then, both sets have been continuously running, sometimes night and day, and at no time have all the orders been completely filled. Considered geographically, fan-like has been the spread of the popularity of "Main Street." Before January 1st, 80 per cent. of the sale was in the metropolitan district. Since, it has been moving steadily to the west, and, above all, to the south. Although an edition was sold to Australia before a publisher could be found willing to make the venture of bringing out an edition for England, there has been an unusual response to the book from English men of letters; Arnold Bennett, Hugh Walpole, Compton Mackenzie, Wilfred Meynell, and John Galsworthy being among those who have sent unsolicited tributes.

Two years or so ago a young man only a short time out of college presented himself

at a New York publishing house with the manuscript of a novel. There is nothing particularly striking about that part of the story; a thousand other young men were doing the same thing at approximately the same time. But in the case of this young man the story happened to have a sequel. He had the abounding confidence of youth in his manuscript, but it was a confidence tempered by diffidence and certain misgivings. He realized, he said, that he knew little of the art or business of novel writing. As it was a first novel, he did not anticipate any considerable success. He had prepared himself to be satisfied with a small sale for the book. In fact he would not be disappointed if the first year's sale did not go beyond thirty thousand copies.

THE OPTIMISM OF ETERNAL YOUTH

OW the older man to whom the young nov

NOW

Also

elist was confiding his doubts and aspirations was of a sympathetic disposition. there was a bond between the two based upon the same university traditions; it was '02 of the Gothic towers and stately elms talking to '18. So '02 held back the smile and gravely expounded many things that are matters of everyday knowledge to any one engaged in the business of publishing, but that the world outside seems never able to grasp. He explained that a sale of 5,000 copies represented a measure of success to the average novel published, and pointed to several novels of unquestioned quality that no amount of hard work and discriminating praise had been able to push beyond a sale of 1,800 or 2,000 copies. A sale of thirty thousand! Of course that happened at times. In the Mexican lottery somebody had to draw the grand prize. Wideeyed youth, listening politely, acquiesced, but was unconvinced.

It was not the manuscript just as then submitted, but the manuscript after considerable revision, that was accepted and published. In this particular case, not only did the manuscript undergo revision, but also the adviser's opinion. It was not many months before '02 had the pleasure of writing to '18 something to this effect: "Dear Scott Fitzgerald; 'This Side of Paradise' has already passed that thirty thousand mark of which you so wildly talked."

The same reviewer who was instrumental in starting the sale of Sinclair Lewis's "Main Street" was also a factor in the early success of

Scott Fitzgerald's "This Side of Paradise." "Main Street" the reviewer extolled to the skies. "This Side of Paradise" he damned to the uttermost depths of the waters beneath the earth, which is evidence that it matters not in the least what a reviewer says so long as he says it vigorously enough. People became at once curious about a book that contained so much inviting violent abuse. The first printing of "This Side of Paradise" was exhausted the day of publication. In all, to the time of writing, there have been eleven large printings of the book which also has undoubtedly been instrumental in stimulating the sale of Mr. Fitzgerald's second volume, "Flappers and Philosophers."

A story of university life, daring and iconoclastic as only youth can be daring and iconoclastic, the greatest discussion that raged about "This Side of Paradise" was naturally in university circles. It was as much talked

It is linked in the mind of the moment with Miss Zona Gale's "Miss Lulu Bett," and Floyd Dell's "Moon Calf." For a number of years Miss Gale's restrained and carefully chiselled books have had their appreciative and discriminating audience, but it remained for "Miss Lulu Bett" to make that audience a genuinely wide one. The book, discussed everywhere, and greatly stimulated by the success of the play made from it, is now in its ninth printing, and all the printings have been large. "Main Street" and "Miss Lulu Bett" were the conspicuous first successes of their authors. Floyd Dell's "Moon-Calf" was not only that but a first novel as well. Mr. Dell recently defined a Moon-Calf as "an egotistical young man with a touch of intellectual lunacy.' Incidentally, Mr. Dell's home town of Davenport is the real Port Royal of the story. MRS. RINEHART, "OLD" IRV. COBB, AND OTHERS

Vassar, Wellesley, Smith, Bryn Mawr, weighed it, praised it, or denounced it as the case might be, as freely as did California and Michigan, Yale, Harvard, and, above all, Princeton. Probably a thousand tales in imitation were begun by youth of both sexes. A young woman at Wellesley read "This Side of Paradise" one afternoon and decided that it was her duty and opportunity to write something in similar vein. That night she wrote a story and the next morning mailed the manuscript to the Saturday Evening Post. Some people do win those Mexican lottery prizes. To Scott Fitzgerald it was given to see his extravagant dreams of a sale of thirty thousand copies realized in a few months. The story of the young woman of Wellesley was accepted within four days.

The novel of American outdoor life, breathing the expanse of vast plains, the strong air of the mountains or the salt air of the sea, is of yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow. It is always with us. If one other type of novel may be considered for the moment to be in the ascendancy, to occupy the place once held by the historical novel or the romance dealing with the imaginary principality somewhere in central Europe, where princesses of the blood were wooed and won by intrepid and unconventional Americans, it is the novel of a Middle West that is pictured as raw, or unlovely, or drearily monotonous; sometimes all three. "Main Street" has been discussed.

been compiled to indicate the audience of Mrs. Mary Roberts Rinehart. One million copies is the estimated total sale of "The Amazing Interlude," "Dangerous Days," and "A Poor Wise Man," all published within the last three years. These are considered quite apart from two books of short stories published during the same period, which would increase the total by at least 100,000 copies more. During the last twelve months Mrs. Rinehart's books have sold a total of 300,000 copies, which, with the comparatively low estimate of three readers to a book, would bring this part of her public to about a million. Her Ladies Home Journal audience, which perhaps may be considered quite separate, is 2,000,000. Her Saturday Evening Post audience another 2,000,000. Her audience through McClure's and the Cosmopolitan at least another million. Of her three plays, one of which will soon have four companies on the road, it is hard to calculate the total audience for a year, but a rough guess would be between a million and a million and a half. Her moving picture audience is also difficult to figure, but with five or six pictures now out it must at least duplicate her theatrical audience.

A year or so ago the names of Mrs. Rinehart and Irvin S. Cobb were linked in the world old war of the sexes. Mrs. Rinehart presented the woman's side of the case with "Isn't That Just Like a Man?," and Mr. Cobb the man's side with "Oh Well, You know How Women

Are!," and the two arguments were printed in the same book. The complete sales of Irvin Cobb's books to date is 1,000,000 copies. They are divided into three classes; the purely humorous, such as "Speaking of Operations;" fiction of the type of "Old Judge Priest;" and such farcical stories as "The Life of the Party." Of all of them, "Speaking of Operations" has been the most successful, approximating two-fifths of the total sales of all his works.

The fact that Alexander Black's "The Great Desire" of a year or so ago has just reached the 50,000 class recalls its au

thor as the writer and producer of the first picture play. That was more than a quarter of a century ago; the play was

Station, and was there "filmed." The play was first produced on October 9, 1894, in the New York studio of James Lawrence Breese. Other "first nights" were given in Boston and Chicago. These first audiences were distinguished, including William Dean Howells, Edmund Clarence Stedman, Edward Everett Hale, Frank R. Stockton, Margaret Deland,

"Miss Jerry;" and it was given 650 times. Mr. Cleveland, then the President of the United States, was one of the actors. "What am I to do?" asked the President as Alexander Black set up his camera in the White House. "You are to sign a bill," said the author. "I shall make three negatives of the action, and these will be blended on the screen to produce the effect of motion." There was a heap of bills on the table and the President did as he had been told. Mr. Cleveland was not the only distinguished precursor of Mary Pickford and Charlie Chaplin. Doctor Black had the ingenious audacity to persuade another President, Mr. McKinley, to take part in his experiments, and also the British Ambassador, Speaker "Tom" Read, Commodore Melville, and Chauncey M. Depew. Mr. Depew for example, received the heroine of "Miss Jerry," a newspaper girl, in the company's offices at the old Grand Central

F. S. Church, Augustus Saint Gaudens, St. Clair McKelway, George Haven Putnam, James Herbert Morse, Herbert F. Gunnison, Arthur Scribner, Don C. Seitz, John Alden, John S. Sargent, and others. When Doctor Hale greeted the author after the Boston "first night" it was to say: "Black, it's so inevitable, that I am chagrined to

think that I did not invent it myself." The first screen drama, like the others produced by "the picture man," as Black was called in the 90's, was a "slow movie." It was projected on the screen by a complicated form of stereopticon with "registered" images. Where the motion picture machine puts on the screen fourteen or fifteen pictures in a second, producing the full illusion of motion, Doctor Black's device put but four to the minute.

The novel, good or bad, has always held its sway. In the past, an occasional work of a more serious nature appeared that, for some particular reason, won an unusual number of readers. But such a book was frankly exceptional. It is no longer so. Of recent years the book of non-fiction has come to take its place by the side of its more frivolous sister as a money-winner for its author and publishers. No longer is the business of