GREAT AUTHORS' WAYS.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1073, 11 March 1911, Page 9

GREAT AUTHORS' WAYS.

Somo literary and other peculiarities of more or less famous writers are gathered into a chatty articlc iu "Clark's Hook Herald."

Balzac's early years were filled with struggles and privations, i'or a time lie actually lived oil forty cents a day. Then, when success finally came to him, and iiis novels began to sell, he spent his money with tno heedlessness of a child. He bought the most gorgeous clothes, jewels, and rare pictures, rushed off on long mysterious journeys, and gratified every whim. He used to drink strong coffee at night to keep him awake, so that those hours stolen from s!t'cp''"'crtuld be employed 'to complete liis prodigious labours. But this overwork and excessive eoifee drinking ruined his health. A fad even more peculiar than that of Haydn, the musician, who never composed unless he had on his finger a ring given him by Frederick the Great, was- that of Eugeno Sue, who had his servant bring him a new pair of perfumed whito kid gloves when he began to write. With each fresh chapter he was handed another pair of gloves. He wrote five or six hours each day, never stopping to reavi or correct. Malthurin, the liovclist, wc are told, stuck a wafer on his forehead to derive inspiration and to prevent his thoughts being disturbed by his servants. Mezeray, in writing his history, required candles even in broad daylight. Rousseau derived inspiration walking among tho plants in the sun.

Thackeray not only wrote in his study, but often took his work to his bed-chamber, where, in dressing-gown and slippers, he would paco up and down the room, smoking a cigar. Suddenly, as if the enjoyment of smoking had stimulated his thoughts, he would lay the half-smoked cigar 011 the mantel, and, going to his desk, would begin to write, busily'. James T. Field was a warm, personal friend of the novelist, and once, while on a visit to Thackeray, in London, the latter took him 10 the house 011 Young Street, Kensington, where his most famous novel had been written. "Down 011 your knees, you rogue," cried Thackeray, "for hero 'Vanity Fair' was penned: and I will go down with you, for I liavo a higil opinion of that little production myself." The lato.o. Henry was afflicted with extreme shyness, and had an inordinately poor opinion of his own talents. He never could be induced to discuss his own writings, and hated abovo all things to have even his most intimate friends congratulate him 011 his literary work. ~Ho'regarded his achievements in the story line rather in the light of a joke, and actually appeared to think that the immense iiopiilaritv his work was a sort of "sell" on the literary world.