ANON.

Press, Volume LXV, Issue 19670, 13 July 1929, Page 15

ANON.

By Y.Y. in the "New Statesman.'')

It ha« been said that Anon. U the most delightful of the poets. Ho is also the oldest and the most proline of them. His age exceeds that of the Wandering Jew, and the mere names of his works 611 a dictionary. Many people say that he wrote the "Iliad" and the ''Odyssey," and, since those days, there ia scarcely a branch of literature in which, he has not displayed his incomparable genius. Possibly—for I amnoscholar —the "Iliad" was not, the earliest of his immortal works. 1 understand that it is to him, rather than to Moses, that moderu scholarship attributes the Pentateuch, and _ lie certainly wrote the "Book of Job. 11 More varied and fertile than Bacon himself, he gave us in one ago the Irish legends of Cuchullain and Fionn and, m another age, the "Letters of Junius." One day he would write the "Drapiers Letters" ; a century or so later, when the novel had become popular, he set to and composed the earliest of the Waverley Novels. Nothing comes amiss to his pen —memoirs, drama, verso, or journalism. Some of the most successful books of reminiscences of our tiir l " have sprung from his brain. He < reawd one of the sensations of th<- with Ins "An Englishman's Love Letters" : and, as if his other work were not enough for one mmi, he writes all the leading articles in the newspapers. Naturally, when so excellent an author is known to have written a book, public curiosity is immediately awakened. His revelations about the conduct of great men seem doubly interesting if they are made by him and not by a nobody with a name. Ho exercises a spell on the imagination like the Man in the Iron Mask, who might easily have been forgotten if he had not been anonymous. That is, perhaps, why Anon, has for so many generations been so dominant a force, not only in literature, but in politics. Statesmen, according to report, have often trembled at his nod. From his position on the leader page of the newspapers he makes and unmakes public opinion. It is probable that the ordinary citizen is much more influenced bv what Anon, says than by anything said by Mr Shaw or Mr Wells. Certainly, if I were a politician, I should not mind whether Mr Shaw or Mr Wells disagreed with me, if 1 had the whole-hearted support of Anon. Even the most powerful men find themselves impotent in comparison with this marvellous secret force. Did not Lord Northcliffe have to make use of his pen in his attacks on Lord Kitchener? Even so great a journalist had to admit that Anon, was a greater journalist than he. Occasionally, such is the jealousy of lesser men. we hear a demand that all leading articles should be signed. This demand is invariably made bv those who wish to weaken the influence of the Press and to deprive it of its most masterly writer. A more nattering tribute could scarcely be paid to Anon.'s influence as a journalist. Journalism without Anon, would be like Fascism without Mussolini. He to be permanent President of the National Union of Journalists. But the activities of Anon, through his long life have been by no means confined to literature and journalism. If I am not mistaken, he built the Pyramids and some of the loveliest of the Christian churches. He was a great sculptor in Greece, and, as a, painter, he has enriched the world with many masterpieces, though at times he has descended to the vilest daubs. It was his genius, too, that gave most of the cities of the earth their names, and the mountains, and the rivers. It was he who cherished m his memory the beginnings of great peoples, and preserved the story or their origin before the invention of writing. He taught the medicinal uses of plants before there were doctors, and imparted wisdom in saws before there were philosophers. He made the first spade and the first plough, and it is to him we owe those blessed inventions, the house, the bed, and the table. It was he who discovered Nature's purpose in producing the grape, and it was he who invented the bottle. Great enough inventions have been made in recent centuries by men whose names we know; but it is to Anon, we owe most of those inventions that alone made European civilisation possible. I do not wish to disparage Watt and Stephenson and the rest of them; but Greece and Rome existed before them in the Golden Age of Anon. No one else, indeed, can show so astonishing a record of beneficence. That he has committed many murders in his time is true enough; but even here he has the excuse that he was not the first murderer and that he was led astrav by evil example. Nor was the first " sin his. Whether Anon, was present in the Garden of Eden we do not know; but we do know that Adam and Eve sinned before him. Nor has he ever throughout history been addicted to the lust of conquest that razes cities and burns down the dwellings of the po6r and slaughters men in battle. He is no rival of Alexander or Tamerlane or Napoleon m violent deeds. He has built cities but sacked none. He has made civilisations but destroyed none. Never has he aspired unjustlv to a throne, nor has he taken pleasure in the oppression of the people. Studv the crimes of history, and how few of them can be attributed to Anon.! No* the murder of Julius Csesar. or the Hurnmg of Joan of Arc, or the death of Lincoln. , . , The truth is, modesty hke his does not sort well with crime. There is a furtive kind of criminal that likes to work in the dark, but in this he w merelv masquerading as Anon., and, more often than not. with the help oi an efficient police force, he is ultimately proved not to be Anon at all. The only fault I know, indeed that can be ascribed to Anon is a habit ot scandalmongering. W T ith his active imagination, he appears to be unable to avoid inventing fables, and I have heard incredible stories even of my contemporaries that were undoubtedly born in his brain. Not that I blame him for this. . He does not know the people about whom he invents the stories, and his fables are aa free from malice as the make-believe of a child. Infinitely more blameworthy are those who rep"eat the tittle-tattle of Anon., knowing that he so seldom speaks the truth. Let us imitate the virtue* ot Anon, and avoid and pardon his one serious vice. . When we feel censoriously towards him, indeed, we should do well to remember that, liar though he may be, he is at least an example to all of us in his general honesty. I do not know, for example, of any" other living man who is so honest that he pays incometax even though the Income-Tax Commissioners do not ask him for it. le» Anon, is constantly doing this, and the Chancellor of the "Exchequer is as constantly acknowledcing his payments in "The Times." The very phrase m which the acknowledgment is made,

"Conscience money," is a tribute to Anon.'s nobility of character. It is clear that the "Chancellor realises that only a good man could behave in this fashion and wishes to incite other taxpayers to take Ancn. as their model. The Chancellor makes co announcement in ''The Times" when you and I pay our income-tax, becans* we do it. without virtue and under companion. But. when Anon. pays, it is a good deed shining in a naughty world, and La a thing worthy to be announced to mankind in general. What more touching example of virtue have we had in recent years than was contained in the letter sent from Anon, to Mr Snov.-den when ho was Chancellor of the Exchequer, which ran : '"Dear sir. I once defrauded vou of £'o. Remorse gnaws my conscience. I am sending you os. When rise remorse gnaws again, I will send you seme more." Anon, is always doing that kind of thing. A few months ago he remembered having rid Hen in a tramcar without paying his fare in Brooklyn in the year liSo, and sent the equivalent of lOd to the company— 2d for the fare and Sd for interest." Similarly, not long ago he remembered having in a moment of abstraction stolen a threepenny bit from a jeweller in Swansea, and forthwith he posted six penny stamps to the jeweller, adding 3d for interest on the sum he stole. That he usually pays about £2OOO a yeaj in income-tax shows that he is no niggard with his money. If be is not a rich man. he at least pays like one. That he is generous, however, _is known to everybody. You cannot pick up any list of subscriptions to a charity without finding his name there. He scatters his contributions lavishly, giving anything from £IOO.OOO to 6d. luring the past fortnight the wor'd has been hearing that he bad given £IOO,OOO to the hospitals as a thankoffering for King George's recovery, concealing his identity under the pseudonvm, "Audax." "How like Anon.!"" I thought when I read of it,. But the newspapers thought otherwise. Convinced that Audax was not really Anon., they sent out reporters and photographers to discover the truth, and in tHe end they proved that not I but thev were right. At the same time, it'must be admitted that the gift was worthv of Anon, and that, in making it. Mr' Roberts was nobly imitating Anon.'s example. For Anon, is never weary of well-doing. This very week, did he not send me a bottle of yellow Chartreuse forty-one years old? He is, indeed, as conspicuously a good man as a good writer. We are indebted to him at every turn of our lives. He at once gave us the ballads and taught us the lovely combination of roast duck and green peas and of lamb and mint sauce. Let us, then, praise famous men, but let us not forget to praise Anon. Is he not the man who won the war when famous rulers and statesmen had made it? If he would but pay for it as well what could be more like him, what more worthv of his record of beneficence to his fellow-men?