said to be yellow, and the ugliest cats—­the cats that infest one’s garden—­are always yellow.  Some medicines are yellow, and no doubt there are many other yellow disagreeables; but we prefer to dwell upon the yellow blessings.  I had almost forgotten that the gayest wines are yellow.  Nor has religion forgotten yellow.  It is to be hoped yellow will not forget religion.  The sacred robe of the second greatest religion of the world is yellow, ’the yellow robe’ of the Buddhist friar; and when the sacred harlots of Hindustan walk in lovely procession through the streets, they too, like the friars, are clad in yellow.  Amber is yellow; so is the orange; and so were stage-coaches and many dashing things of the old time; and pink is yellow by lamplight.  But gold-mines, it has been proved, are not so yellow as is popularly supposed.  Hymen’s robe is Miltonically ‘saffron,’ and the dearest petticoat in all literature—­not forgetting the ‘tempestuous’ garment of Herrick’s Julia—­was ‘yaller.’  Yes!—­

  ‘’Er petticoat was yaller an’ ’er little cap was green,
  An’ er name was Supi-yaw-lat, jes’ the same as Theebaw’s Queen.’

Is it possible to say anything prettier for yellow than that?

LETTER TO AN UNSUCCESSFUL LITERARY MAN

My Dear Sir,—­I agree with every word you say.  You have my entire sympathy.  The world is indeed hard, hard to the sad—­particularly hard to the unsuccessful.  A sure five hundred a year covers a multitude of sorrows.  It is ever an ill wind for the shorn lamb.  If it be true that nothing succeeds like success, it is no less sadly true that nothing fails like failure.  And when one thinks of it, it is only natural, for every failure is an obstruction in the stream of life.  Metaphorical writers are fond of saying that the successful ride to success on the back of the failures.  It is true that many rise on stepping-stones of their dead relations—­but that is because their relations have been financial successes.  In truth, instead of the failure making the fortune of the successful, it is just the reverse.  A very successful man would be the more successful were it not for the failures—­on whom he has either to spend his money to support, or his time to advise.  The strong are said to be impatient towards the weak—­and is it to be wondered at, in a world where even the strongest need all their strength, in a sea where the best swimmer needs all his wind and muscle and skill to keep afloat?  If success is sometimes ‘unfeeling’ towards failure, failure is often unfair to success.  Of course, ’it is He that hath made us and not we ourselves,’ but that is a text that cuts both ways; and when all is said and done, the failure detracts from the force in the universe; he is the clog on the wheel of fortune.  To say that the successful man benefits by the failure of others is as true as it would be to say that the ratepayer benefits by the poor-rates.  You use the word ‘charlatan’