to say, I have furnished £10 to the Unemployed Fund. I share Mr. Cooper's
resentment. I do not want to give £10 to any fund whatever, and to force
me to pay it to the Unemployed Fund, of all funds, is to insult my most
sacred convictions. £10 wants earning. And the fact that £10 wants earning
should be brought to the attention of Windsor and Greeba Castles.

* * * * *

Still, I am not depressed about the general cause of serious literature.
Serious literature is kept alive by a few authors who, not owning
motor-cars nor entertaining parties to dinner at the Carlton, find it
possible and agreeable to maintain life and decency on the money paid down
by very small bands of truly bookish readers. And these readers are not
likely to deprive themselves completely of literature for ever in order to
possess a collection of royal photographs. The injury to serious
literature is slight and purely temporary.

* * * * *

[_31 Dec. '08_]

A melancholy Christmas, it seems! According to "a well-known member of the
trade," the business is once again--the second time this year--about to
crumble into ruins. This well-known member of the trade, who discreetly
refrains from signing his name, writes to the _Athenæum_ in answer to Mr.
E.H. Cooper's letter about the disastrous influence of royal books on the
publishing season. According to him, Mr. Cooper is all wrong. The end of
profitable publishing is being brought about, not by their Majesties, but
once more by the authors and their agents. It appears that too many books
are published. Authors and their agents have evidently some miraculous