A CENTURY OF NAVAL PROGRESS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXII, Issue 52, 2 March 1901, Page 1 (Supplement)

A CENTURY OF NAVAL PROGRESS.

The literature of the future will not be democratic, because it will be such that tho millions who form essentially the democratic condition will take delight in reading it- The demoeratisa* tion of letters'is to take place in another sense and, as it were, from the other end. It is the "intellectuals' who are to be affected by it, and whc are to learn what are the true values of life and what the fundamental realities that must be clung to. A few years ago the followers of the neo-Christian movement in Europe were teiling us that the great reality was that life was good, however hard, if accepted humbly. To-day we are bidden, rather, to listen to writers who preach that the great ivaiity is that life is beautiful whatever the sordidness or vulgarity of its surface aspect. The neo-Christians believed that the literature of the future Avould be democratic because it would teach men to see that the poorest fate, if it gave the humility that is the key to the mystery of life, might be the richest. These other writers believe, that the literature of the future will be democratic because it will show that beauty is everywhere, and the most of it, perhaps, where one looks for it the least.

Mr. Rudyard Kipling has said that no man ought to attempc novel-writ-ing until he had attained the age of j or ty—the inference being that before the end of his two-score years no writer can have a sufficient knowledge of the world.. We find, however, that novelists, like poets, develop* young. As a writer in an American contemporary points out, in the field of the novel as well as of the drama (Shakespeare wrote " Romeo and Juliet" at twentyseven) youthful precocity .s apparent, Elizabeth Shepherd, the feminine Cbatterton of the history of literature, wrote "Charles Auchester" at sixteen. Victor Hugo wrote his first serious novel at twenty-one, and Charlotte Bronte was the same age when she gave us " Jane Eyre." Lord Lytton first achieved success with a novel at twenty-five. At the same age Goethe had written "The Sorrows of Werther," a7id was for ever famous. Tnrgenieff was one year older when his first novel brought him into prominence. Dickens wrote "Oliver Twist " at twenty-six. Frances Burney was no older when she helped to originate a now form of fiction in " Evelina." Smollet was only twentyseven 'when he produced " Rodoriek Random," and George Sand wrote her immortal " Indiana " at the same age. Charles Kingsley was still in his twenties when he wrote " Yeast." Many of our most treasured novels were written when their authors were little past the thirty - year mark. Stevenson wrote " Treasure Island " when he was only thirty-three. Thackeray wrote "Vanity Fair" at thirty-eight, and Mrs. Stowe " Uncle Tom's Cabin " at thirty-nine. Disraeli, Trollope, Reade, Cooper, Jane Austin, and Goldsmith — all these gave their best work to the presses before they were forty. The same is true of Daudet, Balzac, Dumas (pere) and Tolstoi. As a matter of fact, there are only half-a-dozen or so of novelists whom time has stamped as really great craftsmen who did not show the full maturity of power before the age of two-score years.

A True Story from Ireland—A newly gazetted subaltern, fresh from the city, had just joined his militia regiment for the first time- His great ambition was to buy a horse and learn to ride; and hearing this a local dealer called at the barracks to offer a four-year-old he had for sale. He met the would-be horseman coming out of mess with several brother officers, and proceeded with Irish eloquence to descant on his animal's points, "Come

round, and see him, sorr," he ended; "sure, he's the very patthern ye want, if yer honour doesn't object to a green one." "Oh, I don't mind, about the colour, thanks," was the quite serious reply that was drowned in roars of laughter. There was a painful monotony about that young sttbaltern's Christmas presents. He got over a dozen horses from various kind friends—all of them green.

Sometimes a political candidate has been able to use to great advantage his power of repartee. Charles Burleigh, the Abolitionist, in the, midst of an Anti-Slavery speech, was struck full in the face by a rotten egg, "There's a proof," he said, as ho calmly wiped his face with his handkerchief—" a proof of what I have always maintained, that pro-slavery arguments are very unsound." The crowd laughed heartily, and Burleigh was allowed to speak without further molestation. A similar incident occurred at a political meeting in the West of England, but

on this occasion it was a cabbage which found its way to the platform. The orator retorted that some of his flattering supporters had declared him to be a powerful speaker, but he little thought that any of his hearers would ever lose their heads over him! A candidate for a rural constituency who appeared very nervous was requested by an elector at the back of the room to speak up. "Speak up!" he retorted, in a voice which filled the building and surprised all present. " I should have thought that the ears of the gentleman who interrupted were long enough even to hear me at that distance." This reference to the ass recalls a story which is supposed to have originated in New Zealand. One of the candidates, a pronounced Scotsman, at an election bad received a present of a huge thistle which at the moment 'happened to be lying on the table of his committee room. Someone suddenly entering at once withdrew with the remark, " I beg your pardon; I didn't know you were at lunch!"