LITERARY GOSSIP.

Press, Volume L, Issue 14877, 17 January 1914, Page 9

LITERARY GOSSIP.

Mr Jeftery Farnol. author of "Tho Amateur Gentleman," has dramatised his first novel, "The Broad Highway, and arrangements are being hwuh« to produce it on the New York stage this autumn.

Mr Leslie Scott. X.C.. M.l*., at tho annual dinner of tho Solicitors' Managing Clerks' Association recently ; challenged anyone to produce from Kngiish literature a quotation laudatory of the lawyer. Tho "Law Journal" holus that Mr Scott takes too gloomy a view of tho relations of literature and law. •'A quotation from Crabbe, who wrote at a time when lawyers were generally held in far less regard than they are at tho present time, is a sufficient answer to Mr Leslie Scott's challenge. While 'Pope ie worsted' drew Swallow, whose office he compared toji spider's web in which tho 'hard, bad man' peered about for 'fat, intruding fiii\s,' ho made amends by drawing another attorney in sympathetic lines."

Tho publication by Macmillnn's of a new book by Lord Morley (''Notes on Politic? and History") reminds tho "Wostminsior Gazette , ' that his association with the firm is of long standing, his name first appearing in the late Alexander Mncmillan's correspondence in the year 1860. Threo years later Macmillan declared that Mr Morlev was "tho bravest, clearest-headed fellow I know-, though on many, indeed most, points we differ very much." Besides his own work in the shapo of various books which have long attained a secure place for themselves, ho did excellent service by editing tho "English Men of Letters," a task which involved considerably greater trouble and anxiety than might bo sunnosod. For example, he tried, but unsuccessfully, to secure Gcorgo Eliot, Matthew Arnold. Professor Soeley, and several others to write the volume on Shakespeare, and at last he appears to havo given up the attempt to get 'the particular monograph included in the series, for it is only comparatively recently that, in the'resuficitnted series, tho gap. co long conspicuous, hns been filled by the mneterly from the pen of Sir Walter Kaieigh.

Apropos of Sir Walter Raleigh, it is announced that ho is to contribute a preface to a library edition of Lockhart's "Lifo of Burns," which is to bo published shortly. Jt, is nearly ninety years stneo Loekhart's volume appeared and notwithstanding the many biographies of the poot that have sinco been issued, it is still ono of the best. L-arlyles famous essay on Burns is based on Loekhart's biography. I n a letter to his brother in 1823 Carlvle speaks somewhat disparagingly of the work, saying with a curious anticipation of tho phrase now so closely associated with Lord Halsbury, that """Loekn ¥» » kind of T.ifo of Burns. In the essay he speaks somewhat more respectfully of tho book a though not ginfcs it unqualified

v!^ r + T -n P - ?. Cc ™°r Itas »een on a, visit to Dumfries. Mr O'Connor saw W d-daujshtc of the poet, with whom ho had .in interesting interview. This lady, Mr O'Connor describes as a sweet, touching, pathetic old, a httlo tremulous, very intelligent, very sad; for, as she told mc. ehe had lost her husband within tho last few years; and with him had evidently gone out the light of her life. \\e were alono for a few moments and then I told her that 1 had heard ™ daugMer was very like the poet They used to say that I was very like him too,'-said-the dear old lady m her soft, ,jroak-vqico. And then she told mo something about her father, the eon of Burns, who had been employed in Somerset House; his portrait was on the wall. And presently the daughter with that joyous and hospitable smile of hers came in and she askod her mother to sing mc a song. But tho dear old lady sliook her head and declined. 'Then I'll sing myself,' said the girl; and down she eat at the little piano, and with energy and sweotness and fino expression, she sang to mc 'A man's a man for 'a, that.' It was indeed,'? adds Mr O'Connor, ,f a strange experience, to hoar one of'Burns's songs sung.by one of bis blood, and one retracing all his foatnres and figure, nearly a hundred and twenty years after. In tho small house not far away. Burns had gono tho dusty road to death."

There are many relics of the old times, when monks were the chief Srinters, in the expressions to this" ay in -use in printina offices, and the I craft has a language of its own..Those familiar with printing will be interested in the following extract from Mr Percy Fitzgerald's "Memories of Charles Dickens":—"l cannot forget the intense relish ajid huge enjoyment of Boz, who used to roar over ono jest: 'You have done. , ho would say, 'what no living man has done—introduced a new term (namely, "The Random") into the "Chapel." And they have quite adopted it, too! Wonderful fellow! They wouldn't do it for mc, I assure you.' Then he would go on playing with it; putting it in the most, humorous and truly comical lights. 'You must know Birtles was with mc this morning, and said gray««. ly, "I hare brought (Pbought) some more of Mr Percy Fitzgerald's 'Randoms.' Ha. ha. "ha! A capital name. too, Randoms! I congratulate you.'" [Tho random, the non-technical reader may like to know, is the framework provided with many racks into which galleys of matter of type are put, awaiting their turn to. l>e U6od. Galleys in course of being filled are i usually laid on tho sloping top of tho frame—often a truly random collection.!

While in New York recently, supervising tho production of "General John Regan," George A. Birmingham (Canon Hannay) imparted in an interview with tho ''New York Times" some of his opinions with regard to his Irish fellow-craftsmen. "George Moore's spirit," he said, "is moro French than Irish. But Yeats is a genuine Irishman. He illustrates the combination of literary and business ability of which I was taudng. He has written great poetry, and in addition, 'managed tho Abbey Theatre, allowing rcmarkabie practicability. There are many Irish writers or* real distinction who are outside what is generally considered the Irish literary movement. For instance, I would mention two County Cory people, Oenono SummcrvjlJe and Martin Ross. Their work will last. Another writer outside of the movement whose jH'ork is very good is Shan Bullock, a North of Ireland man. And Emily Lawless has a permanent place in letters."

To the query, "What do you think of Synco , '" Cannn Hannay answered: '■I regard Synge as certainly the greatest of the dramatists connected with the Irish literary movement.- I will say mere than that. In my opinion, no English dramatist of our day has equalled him. Of course, his work is difficult to understand. And as to poetry —tho best contemporary verso in the English language is the work of Irishmen. Surely there is no bettor | poetry now being written in England J than that of James Stephens, Padraic Colum, and Sen mas O'oullivan. Seumas O'Sullivan lias issued two volumes nf lyrics—beautiful work. But jt seems to mc that the output of really good * work Las passed, it is significant, I think, that .Stephens has turned from verse to prose. First the output of the Irish literary movement was lyrical, then it was dramatic, and it 3 next stage

may be tho production of prose. Of course, tins is only guesswork, but Stephens stems to support my theory.

Sir William Hobortson Nicoll, in his newly 'lublishod "Bookman's Utters, good story about Swinburne and Kipiiaß, mat lueaU* tor quotation rSwmburiw rwul Hale White «* "ttlo book on iho "Allege*! AposWsy ;>r Wordsworth," and liked it. On this, my rrk-tiU, Mr Watts-Dunton, proiiu\,od that I should bring Mark Rutherford to Tfio Piues m order that he act Swinburne mignt meet. Hale White was wiliing, and wo lunohe<l at tho well-known house. Swiuburuw was not :n U's best mood, b'til Mark Jiutherford was quite sattshed in serenely contemplating him. At one point, our kinu hosi asketl Mark Ituthertonl it he had read Kipling. "No," was tho reply. '1 am getting to bo an old man now", ;uid I read my Bible." "Oh, ' said Mr Watts-Dmiton, "mat's what I do." Swinburne was brought into tho conversation, but he knew Kipling only as tho author of music hall ditties. Che "Uecessional" was mentioned, whereupon Swinburne siid very unjustly, "Yes, very good; like the 'Psalm of Life,' but not so good."

I In a chanter on "Why Did Shakespeare Heti:'e," Sir Williaai points out I tin) gulf that existed between tho county people and townsfolk, a difference as wide as the eo.uall}- absurd gulf that separated '"fat and greasy citizens ,, from "play-actors." Ho says:—That Shakespeare retired to Stnvtford-on-Avon for lovo of his fej-tow-tmvnsmon and their conversation is very hard to believe. If he did ho was certainly disappointed. It was said by Cole:idge, "In older times writers were looked up to as intermodiato beings between angels and men; afterwards they were regarded as venerable and perhaps inspired teachers; subsequently they descended to the level of learned and instructive friends; but in modern days they are deemed culprits more than benefactors." If Shakesocaro were in Stratford-on-Avon now, or any other English provincial town many would ignore him, many more would decry him. One of tho very few things wo know about Shnkespearo is that ho spent much of his late days in litigaUon. It was pitiful work, and yet one understands how Shrtkespeare might have been driven into it against his trill. Jealousj', envy, malice, may have conspired to make his path difficult! Whether he was disappointed or not we cannot tell, but probably he never rcpenW his choice. A great authority on y U s subject onco said to mc that there was such a thing as tho lovo of a man for his mother earth, and ho Wi * ,V ia PP- v "P° n ifc whoever molested him, and never quite happy away from it.

The Edniond de Polignac Prize, which was au-ardod last year to Mr John Maseheld, ialls this year to Mr James Stephens, for hp book, "The Crock of l»qld. Tho prize, of which this is the £100 aWa consists of a clleque for

Sjr George Alexaiuler recalls this memory of Oscar • Wildo.—Wilde had given mo a play in blank verso to read and although I admired it immensely, I thought it was too expensive a production to embark-upon in the early days of my managerial career. 1 asked him to write mc a modem play, and offered him £100 in aavance of fees. He took it. I did not hoar from him for many months, and then he asked mo to name a day when 1 would hear his play. I shall never forget tho delight I experienced in hearing him read "Lady WiDdermere's Fan," for that was the play he brought mc. ' 'Do you like it?" ho said at the end of the reading. '"Like it' is not the word,' , I renlied, "it is simply wonderful!" "What"will you give mc for it? I want money!" said Oscar Wildo. "£1000," I said in reply. "£lO CO! You don't really mean it. It is too good to bo true, if yon be-* lievo in it as much as that, then 1 won't sell it to you outright—l will -take'a percentage,-" And ho took it!

Mr Alexander Watson's recitation of Masefiekl's poem. "The Everlasting Mercy," •at the Littlo Theatre, London, must have been a remarkable performance. The "Daily Telegraph" says formance. The "Daily Telegraph" says of ! it:—"One remembers Lord Macaulay's boast Itow to beguile the tedium of a Channel voyage ho. repeated to himself lino by line, one of the books of Milton's 'Paradise Lost." Mr Alexander Watson did more; every line he imbued with a fervour and an eloqiionce which could only have been arrived at by long and careful study. Seated in an armchair, from -which he neve>* oven rose, ho succeeded in vitalises tho poet's verses in tho most wfxiaerful manner. To treatment such cs this they lend themselves admirably, in 'Tho Everlasting Mercy' Maseficld sneaks out boldly; a spade to him is nothing moro or less than a spade; primitive passion' sweeps through tho work with the force of a cyclone. It is the story of Sol, the unregenerate, of his- great fight with and triumph over Billy, the better man of the two, of his passing fancy for Jane, the bar-wench, of his mad plunge into debauchery, and of his sudden awakening to f a knowledge of better things through the instrumentality of a good and High-minded woman." The whole performance which proceeded, without even a moment's break, occupied close upon two hours Regarding it merely as a feat in mnemonics it must havo been a veritable tour do force.