The jealousy and bitterness which are supposed to be inseparable from the literary life certainly never affected Merriman's. He had no trace of such feelings in his nature. Of one who is known to the public exclusively through his writings, it may seem strange--but it is not the less true--to say that his natural bent was not to the life of a literary man, but to a life of action, and that it was fate, rather than inclination, which made him express himself in words instead of deeds. A writer's books are generally his best biography: the “strong, quiet man,” whose forte was to do much and say nothing; who, like Marcos Sarrion, loved the free and plain life of the field and the open, was a natural hero for Merriman, “as finding there unconsciously some image of himself.”

To any other biography he was strongly opposed. His dislike of the advertisement and the self-advertisement of the interview and the personal paragraph deepened with time. He held strongly and consistently, as he held all his opinions, that a writer should be known to the public by his books, and by his books only. One of his last expressed wishes was that there should be no record of his private life.

The Slave Of The Lamp — Part 6

It is respect for that wish which here stays the present writers' pen.

The Slave Of The Lamp — Part 6

I. IN THE RUE ST. GINGOLPHE II. TOOLS III. WITHOUT REST IV. BURDENED V. A REUNION VI. BROKEN THREADS VII. PUPPETS VIII. FALSE METAL IX. A CLUE X. ON THE SCENT XI. BURY BLUFF XII. A WARNING WORD XIII. A NIGHT WATCH XIV. FOILED XV. ROOKS XVI. FOES XVII. A RETREAT XVIII. AN EMPTY NEST XIX. FOUL PLAY XX. WINGED XXI. TRUE TO HIS CLOTH XXII. GREEK AND GREEK XXIII. STRICKEN DOWN XXIV. BACK TO LIFE XXV. BACK TO WORK XXVI. SIGNOR BRUNO XXVII. IN THE RUE ST GINGOLPHE AGAIN XXVIII. THE MAKING OF CHRISTIAN VELLACOTT

The Slave Of The Lamp — Part 6

It was, not so many years ago, called the Rue de l'Empire, but republics are proverbially sensitive. Once they are established they become morbidly desirous of obliterating a past wherein no republic flourished. The street is therefore dedicated to St. Gingolphe to-day. To-morrow? Who can tell?

It is presumably safe to take it for granted that you are located in the neighbourhood of the Louvre, on the north side of the river which is so unimportant a factor to Paris. For all good Englishmen have been, or hope in the near future to be, located near this spot. All good Americans, we are told, relegate the sojourn to a more distant future.