In his work, _The Conquest of Granada_, Irving relates the story of the retaking of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella. So sympathetically and graphically does Irving describe the fortunes of this war that he must ever remain the historian of the Moors of Spain, whose spirit seemed to inspire the beautiful words in which he celebrated their conquests, their achievements and their defeats. In the _Chronicle of Wolfert's Roost_ Irving follows in imagination old Diedrich Knickerbocker into the famous region of Sleepy Hollow, where much of the material for the celebrated Knickerbocker History was said to have been collected. This chronicle, it was claimed, was written upon the identical old Dutch writing-desk that Diedrich used, the elbow chair was the same that he sat in, the clock was the very one he consulted so often during his long hours of composition. In these pages old Diedrich walks as a real person, and Irving follows him with faithful step through the region that he loved so fondly all his life. Everything here is dwelt upon with lingering touch. The brooks and streams, the meadows and cornfields, the orchards and the gardens, and the groves of beech and chestnut have their tribute from the pen of one who found their charms ever fresh, who sought in them rest and happiness, and who came back to them lovingly to spend the last days of his life in their familiar companionship. Irving died in 1859, and was buried at Sunnyside; in sight of the Hudson whose legends he had immortalized, and whose beauty never ceased to charm him from the moment it first captivated his heart in his boyhood days. [Illustration: THE CAMERA CLUB] This Department is conducted in the interest of Amateur Photographers, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor Camera Club Department. PAPERS FOR BEGINNERS, NO. 1. THE ACTION OF LIGHT ON THE SENSITIVE PLATE. The process of making photographs has been made so simple by modern science that the most of us make our picture by intuition--that sort of sixth sense by which we know just how long to expose a plate, when to take it from the developer, when it is fixed sufficiently, etc., etc.--though we can give no scientific explanation of our methods, and know little or nothing how the chemical changes are produced which result in the finished photograph. It is not at all necessary to know the process of making a sensitive plate, but it is quite necessary to know something of the action of light on the plate in order to make a good picture. A photographic negative is formed by the chemical action of light admitted through a lens or even a tiny hole, into an otherwise light tight box, and striking a glass plate, film, paper, or celluloid, coated with sensitive silver salts. The part of the light that affects this coating is the blue rays.