LITERARY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 19, 23 January 1926, Page 22

LITERARY.

The second series of W. H. Page's letters is reviewed by "Cyrano -, on page 21. For some years past "Punch" has been very strong in verse, and lately, it has seemed to us, it has improved greatly in the child verse section of this department. This \i due largely to the wonderful work of Mr. A. A. Milne, but there are others. A selection from the verses of these others has been published in dainty form by Seville and Co.. London, and Robertson and Mullens, Melbourne, forward us a copy. Tho%c verses have humour, charm, and beauty, and in this collected form they should sell well. The book is well illustrated by Phyllis Chase. "I love England for its physical and spiritual tranquillity, because it has no scented gardens, or wandering fakirs, or terrorist lamas, none of the elements that create them-—no goblin more malicious than Puck; a land where there is little cruelty and violence, and lese unkindnese than elsewhere, where all the trees open and shed their leaves at the same time, and the people are all of one colour and have no bitterness in their hearts."—So wrote Edmund Candler, who died last week, and there is nothing in his writings by which he would rather wish to be remembered. This is quoted from Arthur Mec's "One Thousand Beautiful Things." Henry Lawson's widow and children in Australia get nothing out of the sales of his books; they have not received one penny, either from the books or from the films. Lawson, while he lived, sold all his cop}-rights outright. The moral of improvident authors comes home hard to Mrs. Bertha Lawson. who took charge of the children after her judicial separa tion from her husband long ago. and herself reared and educated them to manhood and womanhood. Jim. after Hawkesbury Agricultural College, is now a farm and dairy expert. Bertha, 8.A., is on the staff' of the Sydney Public Library. Not generally known that Kipling's full name is Joseph Rudyard Kipling—and "there was never an entirely satisfactory person named Joseph." However, Rudyard has done well despite his nominal handicap, and has happily recovered from his 1925 illness. This is Kipling's second serious bout. He was dangerously ill in 1899—and some people think his punch had never the same vigour thereafter. Roderic Quin's recent testimonial benefit in Sydney, 'brought him On the road to £200; he got a Christmas-box in the shape of a Commonwealth Literary Fund pension of £1 a week; the New South Wales State Government is expected to do ac much; and he is a regular contributor of verses to half-a-dozen papers at fair rates —so 1926 looks rosy. In fact, Roderic'e only remaining grievance Is with the people who spell his name with a final "X"—he loathes and resolutely discards that final "K." Australian Literary Fund pensionaries often seem to get a new lease of life. Henry Kendall's widow drew £846 at fl a week before her death; Louis Beeke's widow drew £530 before her recent departure to England. Mrs. J. B. Stephens and Mrs. J. H. Nicholson, widows of Queensland authors, are up to £884, and still happily receiving. Even the minor miters, at 10/ a week, by degrees accumulate respectable sums. Mrs. Marie Pitt, a Victorian versewriter, is up to £403, and was encouraged to publish another book of rhymes last year. A RICH TREASURE HOUSE. Probably no single Englishman is doing, or has done, so much to educate children in appreciation of good literature and art as Arthur Mcc, editor of the "Children's Newspaper" and "My Magazine." This good -work, however, is not confined to children. Thousands of adults enjoy Mr. ilee's articles and his selections from the best writings and sayings, pictures, sculpture, and architecture of mankind. He has now issued, under the title of "One Thousand Beautiful Things: Chosen From the Life and Literature of the World" (Hodder and Stoughton), the most varied anthology we have ever seen. We take it that these treasures of prose, poetry, and picture, are wholly or largely what he has culled for his various publications, but that"**is no reproach. On the contrary, in having covered such an immense range in one volume he is a public benefactor. We have here hundreds of the chief glories of English prose and verse, numbers of notable sayings and inscriptions, a great many extracts from other literatures, and beautiful illustrations of masterpieces of art. The choice ranges from the account of the death of Socrates to Mr. Baldwin's eulogy of Lord Curzon, and is splendid in its range and variety. There are innumerable old favourites, but perhaps this is not the most valuable feature of the collection. These can be found elsewhere, though it is most pleasant to have them together. What are much more difficult to find are the utterances of the more obscure, and the countless passages that do not usually get into anthologies. Here are numbers of such treasures, things that perhaps you have read, but could not remember or lay your hands upon. Here are the -words of Collingwood on the morning of Trafalgar; Barries words on courage, and his version of the legend of the monk and the lark; John Bright's famous speech about the Angel of Death; Emerson on the English; Joyce Kilmer's poem on the tree; passages from Lincoln; Borrows wonderful "Wind-on-the-Heath" passage; the epitaph on Captain Oates; the Inscription on the grave of the Unknown Warrior; an extTaet from Lowes Dickinson's "Letters to John Chinaman"; Fleckers poem to a poet a thousand years hence; John Morley on service; Mr. Baldwin's "four #ords of salvation"; Mr. Ramsay Mac Donald's tribute to his -wife; and the story that Lady Asquith tells of the Arabs discussing the possible results of the war. If such and such a nation was beaten there would be an end of such and such a virtue. A sheik said: "If the English are beaten, there will be an end of justice." And a mullah closed the talk with, "Then let us pray to God that the English be not beaten." We all know what it is to want to remember some striking thing—something perhaps said during the war—and not to be able to find it. Here is a warehouse. This is the richest collection of classical treasures and miscellaneous sayings we have come u»on. It is a long way to Christmas, but this book should be kept in mind. It will delight all ages.

It is quite easy to make relativity incomprehensible, says Sir Oliver Lodge on the second page of his "very elementary exposition" of the subject, which Methuen's publish at the small price of a shilling. It is. We have read several expositions of relativity, and we have not come upon one that was clear to our lay mind. This by Sir Oliter Lodge—written from notes of ! a lecture given by him at Liverpool—is i the best we have seen, but we would not like to say that as a result of reading it we understood relativity. Sir Oliver Lodge is most exceptionally well fitted to explain the subject to the public. He is a great scientist, and accustomed to use his rare gift of explaining , scientific questions to a lay audience. We should say it was impossible to write of relativity in simpler language than he uses here, and if the reader with the unmathematical mind cannot grasp all he says, he will find much that he can understand, and much that will thrill him. "The Universe is incapable of being completely comprehended by any finite being, it must be interpreted; and the way we interpret it depends on ourselves and our faculties. . . . We do not doubt that man sees it (Nature) more truly than the animal. How God perceives it, or what is in ultimate -reality, we do not know." He quotes at the end this impressive passage from a book on relativity: "We have found a strange footprint on the shores of the Unknown. We have devised profound theories to account for its origin. At length we have constructed the creature that made the footprint, and 10, the footprint is our-own." . A BOOK ABOUT FISH. Mr. E. G. Boulenger, director of the London Aquarium, has produced a volume, "The Aquarium Book" (Duckworth), which should prove immensely popular with amateur naturalists. A3 "lords of creation" we have great responsibilities towards our friends and wards of air and earth and sea. We are painfully restricted in thought and action in this connection because we lack a means of communication with any of our charges. We observe, cultivate and study to gain an insight into the thought processes of all species within our ken, but we know as little of horses and dogs as of protozoa. We can tabulate" and record, classify and distribute Latin and Greek denominations, but are nevertheless shut out from the lives of all inferior creatures. It is said that ignorance begets enemies, and cruelty to animals is mostly the result of ignorance. So human in character are many lower animals that the more thoughtful of us feel there is a closer relationship than is commonly admitted. The lives of fish of river, lake and sea are the theme of Mr. Boulenger, and hie minute directions for the maintenance of aquaria indicate, not only his knowledge, but hie affection for hit finny boarders. It may be newi to you that it is possible to hypnotise a lobster. It isjmattere such as these that will amuse the readers of "The Aquarium Book." We hope that a better understanding of water animals will result from ite publi* cation. It is beautifully illustrated. THE WORLD OF MAKE-BELIEVE If the heroine of "The Pearl-Headed Pin," by David Durham (Hodder and Stoughton ) had been less of an idiot, there would have been no story. The plot is impossible, but the story is somewhat redeemed by likeable people. A much better mystery story ia " The Man Who Was London," by a hew writer, J. Kilmeny Keith (Collins, through Whitcombe and Tombs). An English magnate is murdered when he is on the point of " cornering" the wheat supply of England, regardless of the suffering he will cause. The denouement is surprising. When a young man who has left his farm to study medicine is forced to return and take over the farm, and through propinquity marries a neighbour who has no intellectual or aeethetic affinity with him, trouble may be confidentally predicted. It comes in "The Judgment of Solomon," and the principal victim sacrifices twenty years of her life in consequence. This novel (by Flos Jewell Williams —Hodder and Stoughton) has considerable power, and the life of the Canadian countryside is well described. At thie time of day it should not be necessary to tell people that there are darker sides to Japanese life than cherry blossoms, chrysanthemums, and the geishas of musical comedy. However, there must be many who know little or nothing of the real life of the Japanese, and to those who are curious, Mr. John Paris' " Banzai " (Collins, through Whitcombe and Tombs) may be recommended. Mr. Paris has already made a reputation as a realist in thj's field. He evidently knows it well at first hand, and he penetrates , far beyond the veil of romance. " Banzai" is the story of the career of a Japanese whom an English couple befriended in London. We see the boy in his home, and the young man making hie way in the world by many methods —devious and otherwise. The pictures of Japanese ways are at times unpleasant, but the reader does not question their truth. Mr. Paris has literary gifts that are well above the average, and the result is a notable book. Lovers of dogs will enjoy a book with the curious title of " Dumb-bell of Brookfleld," by John Taintor Foote (Appleton and Co., through Robertson and Mullens, Melbourne). " Dumb-bell " was a setter, the son of a very famous prize-winner, and though he was thought to be of little account as a puppy, he became a champion. The adventures of this and other dogs are well told, and one is introduced to the enthusiasm and excitement of setter trials, which seem to be much more exciting than our own sheep-dog tests. The author is a passionate lover of dogs, and communicates his enthusiasm. Though British readers may wish that the style was a little less hectic and sentimental, they will enjoy these tales of dogs reared by an American country gentleman. There is | also a touch of human romance and humour in the book. "The Wind," i 3 a good story. It is natural, pleasant, and deals with a part of the world frequently made ridiculous by "Wild West" sensational writers. The story is of a- gentle, sensitive Virginian girl, forced to live a rough, hard life in Texas. The anonymous author tells us of the "limitless" prairies, the climate, wild life and inhabitants; stock, cowboys, amusements, and adventures, and above all, of its gales, tornados, cyclones, and constant atmospheric movement , . What the Canadian complains of snow the Texan says of sand, which is all pervading except in wet seasons. To read of Texas as described by a lover of nature and truth is refreshing after the reams of "thrilling-" , rubbish that is brought before us for review, professing to represent the country and its people. Harper's have done well to bring this author to public notice. Our copy is from Dymock'e, Sydne7.