And to-day at Franklin, Ohio, as the train stops at the water tank one sees in the pasture opposite, an immense bill board, and on the board in gigantic letters are the words: _This is Franklin, the Home of Jingo’s Advice to Authors—One Hundred Places to sell Manuscript, One Dollar_. That a place is needed to sell manuscript I will admit—in fact I am looking for such a place, but I only require _one_ place, not a hundred. So I am suspicious of Mr. Jingo: I think that he offers just ninety-nine times more than is meet, and so I turn to Mr. Arthur Lewis of Albany, who has in the press a book with a title suspiciously like the Ohio publication. It is called _Advice to Literary Aspirants—One Hundred Ways to Become Famous for One Dollar_. Advance sheets of this work show that the author has expended considerable care on it. He marshals statistics to show that only one out of 97,621 of the men who write books ever secure even a tuppence worth of fame. In fact he proves that fame and good writing have no more to do with each other than Art and Truth, Virtue and Profession, Marriage and Constancy. He therefore concludes that the Literary Aspirant should secure his Fame first and launch his Literature afterward, and in this way take the tide at its flood and move on to fortune. To this end the gifted author gives one hundred ways of securing fame. He starts with Homicide and runs through to Arson and Bridge Jumping, giving incidentally fourteen different kinds of Scandal and how to bring it about. In my own mind I have always made a distinction between illustrious men, famous men and notorious men, but Mr. Lewis avers that in our day and generation such fine shades are all obliterated by the bright iridescence of the standard dollar. An author, he says, succeeds only as his books sell, and if his name is on the lips of rumor, women especially will besiege the stores and demand his tomes. Now we must admit that the fine sophistry that Mr. Lewis brings to bear is interesting, but is it Art? Further than this, does it fill a vacuum in the great economic cosmos of Letters? I do not think that it does, and therefore do not hesitate to flatly give it as my opinion that while the author is sincere, the publishers are moved by no other motive than to secure the money of ambitious young men and women, having first victimized Mr. Lewis for the cost of plates and the first edition. That the work, like all skillful sophistry, is inspiring to the young, there is no doubt, but the final effect of the book on society I believe will be damaging, and therefore I cannot conscientiously recommend it. A JOURNALISTIC NOTE. Our valued co-worker in the vineyard, the Rev. George H. Hepworth, has begun to cast his Sunday _Herald_ sermons in the first person singular and affix his distinguished name thereto. If this will make these sermons no better it will at least make them no worse.