resentation of him in a burlesque on the personalities of some of the present school of Irish writers given recently for the amusement of the members of a journalistic club. Moore was represented as pounding loudly at Yeats's door, and as he heard the latter approaching, said: 'Don't come. I don't want to see you. I'm merely doing this to annoy the neighbors.'

If this is really the attitude of this very clever writer, I for one can almost forgive him; but I have my doubts that all of the irritating things were written just to tease. Mr. Chesterton told one more incident illustrative of the impulsive fluctuations of this remarkable man.

"After his early ostentatious glorying in paganism, he suddenly decided to turn to Christianity; so he rushed to find the parson in the village where he happened to be, told him of his intention, and insisted upon having prayers on the spot.

"I enjoyed my recent visit to America, greatly," he continued. "Everywhere I was shown the most delightful hospitality, and the people were most kind and indulgent of my poor lectures. And they paid me well for them, too. The trip was exceedingly pleasant in every way, and the people charming."

"I am glad to hear you say that America was kind to you," I replied; "but you, too, were kind to America. Your new American book was most gratifying in its friendly tone. You went evidently prepared to find some pleasing things there, and found them. I have been pleased to note in the 'impressions' of recent British visitors a tendency away from the time-honored one of pointing out to the people of the United States all of their real and

many fancied imperfections. Since the time when Dickens made such a thorough job of it, it was almost a rule for those who followed him to our shores to come as critics who fancied that only adverse criticism was their function."

Mr. Chesterton laughed and said: "The period of British smugness and self-sufficiency covered a certain definite time, and ceased almost as promptly as it began. It had also a very definite reason. very definite reason. At the end of the Napoleonic wars England occupied a position similar to the one America enjoys to-day. She was the creditor nation. The countries of Europe were rendered almost prostrate by the wars, while England was the one nation that profited by them, being plunged into an era of commercial prosperity unparalleled in her history.

"It was a new and pleasing sensation to find herself suddenly so rich and influential. When the European countries planned some new project that required financing, England had always to be consulted. She gradually and naturally came to think that this must be because of some particular virtue of her own, and, preening herself, said, 'What a clever and superior race we are!'

"So she took a patronizing attitude toward the world for a while. Anything that was not English was not quite right. But subsequent developments caused her to realize her error, and the conviction of superiority vanished.

"As for Dickens, I feel sure that his attitude toward America was due largely to peevishness over the pirating of his novels there. Mind you, I don't think that he consciously planned revenge with the grievance in mind,

but it was undoubtedly a strong subconscious factor tending to exaggerate any dissatisfaction that came to him in his American sojourn."

When my work was completed, he showed me some efforts of his own as a graphic artist. They were humorous illustrations in line for a book by his friend Hilaire Belloc, and were very amusing indeed. Mrs. Chesterton joined us upon the completion of our task, and gave her approval to my representation of her jovial husband.

We were summoned then to the dining-room, a large alcove that was evidently at one time a separate inclosure, with a slightly higher floor-level, and now part of the big, irregularly shaped living-room. Over the considerable repast which most English people make of "high tea" we talked mostly of art and artists. My host surprised me agreeably by his knowledge of the modern movements in painting and sculpture, a thing that I found to be quite rare in England even among the followers of those arts. The influence of modern French art, which has been great and valuable in the growth of American painting and sculpture, has made comparatively slight inroads in England. I was amazed in talking with several Englishmen who had devoted their lives to painting and etching to discover that they did not know the name of Renoir. Many of them are vague in the understanding of the term "Impressionism," and its value in art is still a debatable point with them!

Not so with Mr. Chesterton. Regretfully, I tore myself away from this fascinating company, and ran most of the way to the railway station, as taxicabs do not haunt the street corners nor are trains frequent in Beaconsfield.

As a side light on his systematic methods of work, I will return to a remark of my editor friend of the Savage Club.

"It is pleasant to work with Chesterton. His early experience in journalism was good training to make him responsible and dependable. He is never late with his contributions. When he is in London he often drops into the office, and if an extra column is needed, he will sit down and write it on the spot. He works with great speed. It is delightful to find these qualities in a man of his position, when so many writers of little or no importance make such an affected display of so called temperament and madden one with useless delays."

In a beautiful suite at his hotel, affording a wonderful view of the Thames and a vast area of London, I found "the Manxman." Time, which transforms us all, has not neglected Sir Hall Caine. His famous shock of red hair has now the yellowish white that is frequently reminiscent of former redness. The well known contour of his distinctive and luxuriant coiffure is completely preserved, though the upper part of it is very transparent, revealing the shape of his entire cranium. His features seemed to have settled like a sediment into the comparatively small area of his triangular face, the forehead, emphasized in its size by the long hair, dwarfing them. The color of his skin is uniformly pink, and he is not so thin as portraits of him had led me to expect. His picturesque aspect was heightened by a distinctive manner of dress. His doublebreasted waistcoat was cut low, revealing a huge Ascot cravat of black satin.

He wore a high collar with unusually broad wings, and for the street a broad-brimmed hat and flowing black

cape.

He was most courteous and kindly in his manner. His voice is low, and rises and falls in extremely smooth cadences. Before I began my portrait sketch, he was at pains to find for me a comfortable chair, and a table for my art materials, adding cigarettes and an ash-tray to the equipment.

He showed me a color drawing of himself that had been made some years before. He considered it the most successful portrait that had been done of him, and had had it reproduced on the wrappers of some of his books. "This is my favorite pose," he said, "with the head tilted forward and inclined to one side. It expresses me best."

As I worked, he told me something of life on the Isle of Man and described his ancient dwelling, Greeba Castle. His life there is pleasant, but not so quiet as one might think, as vast numbers of tourists come, and resort to all sorts of extreme subterfuges to get a glimpse of him. His grounds are overrun with them; posting the place against trespassers has failed to achieve the desired seclusion. For a time the charging of an entrance fee to the grounds checked the invasions to some degree. The money collected in this way was given to charity.

As a young man Sir Hall was associated with Dante Gabriel Rossetti as his secretary and lived in the house of the famous painter-poet. This gave him most valuable and interesting contact with the leading literary and artistic people of that time. His word pictures of some of these noted Victorian figures were very entertaining.

Sir Hall was greatly interested in the progress of my sketch of him, and made several suggestions with a view toward its ultimate success.

"Some of my friends tell me that my eyes have the expression of one who looks within rather than at outward things. Perhaps you could put this impression into your portrait."

"I must be sure, too, not to miss your well known resemblance to Shakspere," I replied. "The public will expect that."

He smiled.

"All my life people have been finding in me a likeness to one great man or another. In my youth they said I resembled Byron, and in succession various others, the favorite and most frequent being Shakspere. For a time some people were even endeavoring to find a resemblance to the Christ in me! This was partly due, I think, to a journalist who asked me whether or not I thought that such a similarity existed. Of course I did not, but in the published interview she made it appear that I believed it. Ridiculous! The newspapers made a great to-do about it."

My portfolio contained portraits of several men whose personalities interested Sir Hall. Mr. Lloyd George was one of them. He praised the late prime minister as a great and brilliant statesman, and expressed unbounded admiration for his many accomplishments.

"He is a great orator, but oratory is the gift of most Welshmen, and the Manxmen have it, too. There are any number of local preachers and even clerks and tradesmen who can address an assemblage in an astonishingly brilliant way. I can do a bit of it mysel They go at it something like this"