Though this rapidity of production may have lessened their merit, they are still widely read by his countrymen. He treated the whole history of Poland in a series of novels, after the style of Sir Walter Scott. Other novelists have acquired local and temporary fame, but no Polish writer obtained recognition in English until the works of Henryk Sienkiewics began to be translated by Jeremiah Curtain. His novels of Polish history were welcomed by discerning critics, but later his great romance, "Quo Vadis," treating of the introduction of Christianity into Imperial Rome, captivated readers of all classes. Sienkiewics practically represents Polish literature to readers of English. HENRY SIENKIEWICZ. THE civilized world has never been more suddenly captivated by literary genius than in the case of Sienkiewicz. In spite of native critics who sought to smother his attempts, he won the affectionate regard of his countrymen and almost at the same time the admiration of all nations. This brilliant novelist was born at Wola Okrejska, in Lithuania, in 1846, of an old noble family. He was thirty-five years of age before he entered upon the work that has made him famous. After a student's career at the University of Warsaw, he edited a journal there, and in 1872 published his first work, a humorous tale. Then he set out on almost aimless wanderings, and for some years led a kind of gipsy life. He was a Bohemian in Paris; and in 1876 he joined the Polish fraternity of expatriated artists and musicians, gathered around Madame Modjeska to form at Los Angeles, in California, a Polish commonwealth of denationalized genius. Sienkiewicz wrote letters of travel and storysketches some of which treated American scenes. Before returning to Warsaw, he visited Africa. In 1880 he issued his first large work, "Tartar Slavery," but he soon applied himself to his great proseepic of Poland in the seventeenth century. To this period he was obliged to revert in order to exhibit the true greatness of his country and race. In that age Poland was still a powerful nation. Sienkiewicz in his wanderings had explored nearly every corner of his country. He now produced a trilogy, thoroughly Polish in sentiment and patriotism. In the background there is a deep feeling for nature, and a sadness which seems inseparable from the Lithuanian temperament. "With Fire and Sword," the first novel of the series (published in 1884) describes the Cossack invasion of Poland in 1647-51, and ends with the siege of Zharaj. "The Deluge" (1886) opens in the year 1655, deals mainly with the Swedish invasion, and ends with the expulsion of the Swedes in 1657. "Pan Michael" (1887) the last of the series, treats of the Turkish invasion, while the epilogue narrates subsequent events down to the final triumph of Poland under John Sobieski. In all of these novels figures a unique personage, Zagloba, who has been said to combine "a great deal of Falstaff, a touch of Thersites, and a gleam of Ulysses." Sienkiewicz is said to have found the original model in the Polish settlement in California. Taken as a whole, these novels rank among the foremost historical romances of the world. To an entirely different class belongs Sienkiewicz's next work, "Without Dogma" (1890). This is a psychological novel, and therefore appeals to a limited class. But his wider fame was not long to be deferred. "Quo Vadis" appeared in 1895, and gave a brilliant view of Nero's reign and the first struggle of Christianity in Rome. It is founded on Tacitus and other Roman historians, on the "Satiricon" of Petronius Arbiter, and the early Christian traditions. The hero, a nephew of Petronius, is converted from Paganism through his love for the pure Christian maiden Lygia, and finally suffers martyrdom in the arena with her. On the other hand the courtly Petronius, who sought, after Nero's burning of Rome, to prevent the persecution of the innocent Christians, loses favor with his imperial master and is driven to suicide. Readers of English are indebted to the learned linquist, Jeremiah Curtin, for admirable translations of the works of Sienkiewicz. It is Sunday! Great posters, affixed for a number of days to the corners of Puerta del Sol, Calle Alcala, and all streets on which there was considerable movement, announce to the city that today, "Si el tiempo lo permite" (if the weather permits), will take place bull-fight XVI., in which Cara-Ancha Lagartijo and the renowned Frascuello are to appear as "espadas" (swords). Well, the weather permits. There was rain in the morning; but about ten o'clock the wind broke the clouds, gathered them in heaps, and drove them away off somewhere in the direction of the Escurial. Now the wind itself has ceased; the sky as far as the eye can reach is blue, and over the Puerta del Pol a bright sun is shining—such a Madrid sun, which not only warms, not only burns, but almost bites. Movement in the city is increasing, and on people's faces satisfaction is evident. Two o'clock. The square of the Puerta del Sol is emptying gradually, but crowds of people are advancing through the Calle Alcala toward the Prado. In the middle is flowing a river of carriages and vehicles. All that line of equipages is moving very slowly, for on the sidewalks there is not enough room for pedestrians, many of whom are walking along the sides of the street and close to the carriages. The police, on white horses and in showy uniforms and three-cornered hats, preserve order. It is Sunday, that is evident, and an afternoon hour; the toilets are carefully made, the attire is holiday. It is evident also that the crowds are going to some curious spectacle. Unfortunately the throng is not at all many-colored; no national costumes are visable-neither the short coats, yellow kerchiefs á la contrabandista, with one end dropping down to the shoulder, nor the round Biscay hats, nor girdles, nor the Catalan knives behind the girdles. Those things may be seen yet in the neighbourhood of Granada, Seville, and Cordova; but in Madrid, especially on holidays, the cosmopolitan frock is predominant. Only at times do you see a black mantilla pinned to a high comb, and under the mantilla eyes blacker still. In general, faces are dark, glances quick, speech loud. Gesticulation is not so passionate as in Italy, where when a man laughs he squirms like a snake, and when he is angry he gnaws off the top of his hat; still, it is energetic and lively. Faces have well-defined features and a resolute look. It is |