nds; and the fidelity
of his descriptions of northern Scotland have met with the questionable
reward of converting a poet's haunt into a tourist's camp. Not that Mr.
Black's is a game-keeper's catalogue of the phenomena of forest or
stream, or the poetic way of depicting nature by similes. The
fascination of his writing lies in our conviction that it is the result
of minute observation, with a certain atmospheric quality that makes the
picture alive. More, one is conscious of a sensitive, pathetic thrill in
his writing; these sights and sounds, when they are unobtrusively
chronicled, are penetrated by a subtle human sympathy, as if the writer
bent close to the earth and heard the whispers of the flowers and
stones, as well as the murmur of the forest and the roar of the sea.

He is eminently a popular writer, a vivacious delineator of life and
manners, even when he exhibits his versatility at the cost of some of
his most attractive characteristics. In 'Sunrise' we have a combination
of romance and politics, its motive supplied by the intrigues of a
wide-spread communistic society. 'Kilmeny' is the story of a painter,
'Shandon Bells' of a literary man, 'The Monarch of Mincing Lane' tells
of the London streets, the heroine of 'The Handsome Humes' is an
actress, the scenes in 'Briseis' are played in Athens, Scotland, and
England. All these novels have tragic and exceptional episodes, the
humor is broad, as the humor of a pessimist always is, and the reader
finds himself laughing at a practical joke on the heels of a
catastrophe. Mr. Black knows his London, especially the drawing-room
aspect of it, and his latest novel is sure to have the latest touch of
fad and fashion, although white heather does not cease to grow nor deer
to be stalked, nor flies to be cast in Highland waters. We cannot admit
that he is exceptionally fortunate in the heroines of these novels,
however, for they are perfectly beautiful and perfectly good, and nature
protests against perfection as a hurt to vanity. Our real favorites are
the dark-eyed Queen Titania, the small imperious person who drives in
state in 'Strange Adventures of a Phaeton,' and sails with such high
courage in 'White Wings,' and the half-sentimental, half-practical,
wholly self-seeking siren Bonny Leslie in 'Kilmeny' who develops into
something a little more than coquettish in the Kitty of 'Shandon Bells.'

These and half a dozen other novels by Mr. Black entitle him to his
place a