LITERARY.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXII, Issue 22, 26 January 1901, Page 2 (Supplement)

LITERARY.

"When Mr Marion Crawford quits Italy and Jays the seerne. of his novels elsewhere, he never writes up to his best form. "In the Palace of the King-: A Love Story of Old Madrid," proves this. It. belongs to the Stanley Weyman school, and those who are not just a little bit tired of adventure romances (as like as peas t.o one another) will find it readable enough. When, however, one comes to compare a boy's book of this order with works cf art like "Casa Braccio"' or "Saracinesea." or even "The Children of the King1," it is impossible not to regret that Mr Crawford should have deserted the country which he knows so well and describes so aptly. Dr. Conan Doyle's "Great Boer War" is the only Transvaal campaign book selling at all briskly .writes our London correspondent. Five editions have been reprinted in four weeks. The experiences of Dr. Treves and Winston Churchill possibly also possess a certain vogue, but Lard Rosslyn's "Twice Captured" doesn't circulate at all. His reckless allegations against certain cavalry regiments of cowardice have made him most unpopular, and Mr Churchill's wicked sneer to the effect that "anyone could be captured. That wasn't difficult," hit him nearly as hard as the suggestion that "'Twice bankrupt" would be a suitable sequel to his first masterpiece. The •'Bookman " says Mr J. M. Barrie is engaged upon a new work which will be much shorter than "Tommy and Grizel." It will first appear serially in Seribners Magazine, aJid may be looked for in book form hi the autumn. Mr Barrie is engaged in completing the play he is writing, in which Miss Maude Adams will act the leading part both in England and in America. A paragraph has recently been going (ho rounds of the papers to the effect that Mr -I. Hunter, who died recently al I'.onar 1 1 ridge, was the original of the "King of Borva," and that, Ms daughter was the prototype of j "Sheila" in Mr William Black's novel, j "A Princess of Tluile." We have the] very best authority for stating that there is no foundation whatever for these assertions. Mr Black had arranged the plot, and characters of his charm in"- novel before he went, to Lewis at all, and he chose that place simply on nccount of its remoteness, and because it was almost unknown to outsiders. Mr Black stayed at the inn at Garrynahina, then occupied by Mr Hunter," because it was remote and also because he had permission to fis.li in Loch Tloag. fn fact, Mr Black, who was always an enthusiastic angler caught his first salmon there. Mr Black was much annoyed when paragraphs began to appear connecting the Hunters with the story. He often used to gay that he would publish a contradict ion. but unfortunately he died without having done so. All the more necessary is it now, therefore, that the truth should be known. Our London correspondent remarks: '•I find the juvenile verdict as to the best boy's book for the jear lies between Henty's "With Buller m Natal and a much cheaper story on Blackie a list called "Jones, the Mysterious. The latter I described to you a week or so back. Children between ten and sixteen revel in it, and in the three houses to which I sent copies the grown-ups were also discovered secretly sampling it. \mono-st children's picture books Miss Praeger's "Little Twin Dragons and Gelett Burgess' "Goops" come easily first- though Mabel Deanner's "Noah's Ark Geography" and "The \pril Baby's Book of Tunes" are also exceedingly good. Mr Heinemau's splendid edition of "Hans Christian Anderson" is more of a drawing-room table book. Both it and the wondrously illustrated ""Grey Fairy Book" are unequalled of their school. There has been so little good verse in 1000 that 'tis difficult to pick the best poem of the year. The following from Henley's little book "For England's Sake" takes some beating: — These to the glory and praise of the green land That bred my women, and that holu3 my dead, England, anil with her the strong broods that stand Wherever her fighting lines are pushed or spread. They call us proud? Look at our English Rose. Shedders of blood?— Where haUi our own been spared? Shopkeepers?— Our accompt the high Gofl knows. Close?—ln our bounty half the world hath shared. They hate us and they envy? Envy and hate Should drive them to the Pit's edge?— Be it so! That race is damned which misesteems its fate, And this, in God's good time, they all shall know, And know you too, you good green England, thenMother of mothering girls and governing men. Kipling- and Nevvbolt are also admirable at this class of patriotic verse, but their efforts lack the reserve force of Henley The latter, however, still remains caviare to the multitude There was some slight stir about his unequalled Hospital Rhythms in 1883. and at the Savile Club for twenty years lie has been the "lion." But many presumably well read folk know him not. At the time that when Princess Beatrice mentioned him to Lord Salisbury as a suitable successor to Tennyson, the Premier is alleged to have said, "Dear me! Who's Henley?" and left the Qupen and her daughter speechless with amazement. All sensible people now recognise Austin's appointment was a shocking blunder. If Swinburne was impossible and Kipling too flamboyant it should have been Henley.