LITERARY GOSSIP.

Press, Volume LXX, Issue 21198, 23 June 1934, Page 15

LITERARY GOSSIP.

A letter from the "Weekly Scotsman" over the signature of Sic Philip Gibbs: Carlyles' London Home Half a life-time ago I used to contribute to your columns a weekly article called "Knowledge is Power." which brought me hundreds of letters from Scotsmen in all parts of the Empire who were subscribers 'o the "Weekly Scotsman" as all good Scots must be, especially if they are far away. I write to you on behalf of a little house still inhabited, surely, by the spirit of a great and gallant Scot whose work is still an inspiration to the world because of its genius and undying fire. In that house also dwells the spirit—one seems to be aware of it—of his delicate, witty, brilliant wife, who had sorrow in her heart and laughter on her lips. That little house is 24 Cheyne Row, Chelsea, to which Thomas Carlyle and his wife came for their London life on June 10, 1834. The house itself is preserved as a trust, and it has enchanted thousands of visitors from all parts of the world, because it is exactly as it was when the Carlyles dwelt there, with its furniture and pictures and many things which they touched and used.

Owing to the world crisis and the falling off of visitors from abroad there is great need of money to preserve the house for its present purpose. On June 10 this year, exa.ctly 100 years after their arrival, Mr" Filson Young will broadcast an appeal. A scene will be played recalling that terrible episode when John Stuart Mill confessed that his maid-servant had destroyed the manuscript of Carlyle's "French Revolution"—a heroic as well as a tragic episode, because of Carlyle's splendid stoicism and valour in rewriting that work. The area bell will jingle again. The piano, never played since Mrs Carlyle touched it for the last time, will sound again. The spirit of the little house, and of those two dear people, will come to all listeners over the wireless. It should touch the hearts of all Scots, especially. Even in these hard times perhaps some of will spare a mite for the old house m Cheyne Row, because man does not live by bread alone, but also by the genius, gallantry, wisdom, and the fire of those who went before. That Is why I write this letter to the •'Weekly Scotsman."

A new quarterly is about to make its first appearance—"Wine and Food," the official organ of tha recently formed Wine and Food Society. The editor is the celebrated M. Andre L. Simon, who will be assisted by such contributors as Prof. H. E. Armstrong, G. B. Stern, Martin Armstrong, Ambrose Heath, Elizabeth Craig, Vyvyan Holland, Sir John Squire, Maurice Healy, E. A. Bunyard, J. I. Davis, Holbrook Jackson, E. G. Boulenger, etc. A few sentences from the prospectus: Although mainly written by experts, its first and main care will be the interests and necessities of the private consumer. Among its regular contents will be new recipes, notes on new cookery books, vintage reports, advice on the purchase and care of wine, scientific articles on dietetics, accounts of journeys at home and abroad, with reports on the quality of fare supplied in various districts, descriptions of famous old inns, histories of vineyards, and advice on where to lunch or dine in London and elsewhere, with occasional notes on where not to dine or lunch.

As the official organ of the Wine and Food Society it will contain full accounts of the Society's meetings, proceedings, and recommendations. In short it takes the whole field of gastronomy as its province, and will become an invaluable work of reference to all who have the sense to be interested in what they eat and drink.

Under the will of Stella Bensoa 20 or 30 volumes of her diaries ar« to be given to Cambridge University "to be dealt with as they think fit, but not made public until after the lapse of' 50 years."

The story of the diaries is told by Major G. H. Benson, of Much Wenlock, Shropshire, Miss Benson's eldest brother. My sister was very secretive about her diaries and she intended them to be, literally, a closed book until they are opened in 50 years' time. She began writing them when a child of five.

As she grew up she was so outspoken that she put the long time embargo on publication, not wishing that any one who could be offended by her writing should be alive when it saw the light of day. She also wrote with a special eye to throwing light on the mentality ot the people of her age. Each volume had a lock. The book itself was bound in leather, and once finished and locked, I imagine that Stella threw away the key. I have seen small portions of the diary when, for instance, she wanted an opinion on anything. It is extremely outspoken.

In a recent speech Miss Wilhelmina Stitch, the author of remark* ably popular "uplift" verses, told some amusing stories about her fan mail and meetings with admirers. On one occasion she was accosted in a hotel by a woman who said, "Then it's you who do those little messages?" "I hope you like them," said Miss Stitch. "Yes," replied her vague critic, "but do you know that when you read them out they rhyme?"

Discussing the services a publisher sometimes renders to a writer, a member of the firm of Harrap mentions that last year his editorial department approved the substance of a certain MS., but found 1000 mistakes in it. These were corrected, with the consent of the author, and the book proved a great success.

Sylvia Lynd notes that a curious innocuousness seizes upon the work of dead authors. She gives as examples George Eliot, Thackeray, and Charlotte Bronte, who seemed to face life almost too boldly for the reader of their day.