BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 146, 14 March 1908, Page 12

BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

VERSES NEW AND OLD. HARPS HONG UP IN BABYLON., , -.Tho harps hung up in Babylon, Tlicir loosened strings rang on, sang on, And. cast their murmurs forth upon - Tho roll and roar of Babylon: i- "Forget mo. Lord, if I forget• Jerusalem for Babjlon, ✓ If I forget tho vision set . j .. High 09 tho head of Lebanon ' ; ; ■ Jfl lifted over Syria yet,-. If I forget and. bow me down . ■ rTo brutish gods of Babylon." , Two rivers to each other run :In tho very ;midst. of Babylon, <;■' ;• And swifter than their current fleets ■ .The restless river of the streets 1 / : ■ Of Babylon, of Babylon, 'And Babylon's ; towers smito the sky,. 1 ' But higher reeks to God most high • The smoke of her 'iniquity , "But. oh, betwixt the green and bine To walk the hills. that once we knew • :Wlien you were puro and I was true/'So rang, theharps of l!adylon— ■■ ■ . . ! "Or ere, along the roads of stone , 'Had .led us: captive one by.ono Tho subtlo gods of Baybbn.':- • 'The harps hung up in Babylon ■Hung silent till the : prophet • dawn, When Judah's feet (he highway burned v. . Back-to Uw holy hills returned, And shook their dust on Babylon. . In lion's halls the wild harps rang,. To Zion's wajlsvtheir smitten; clang, ■■ . ; And .lo!:..of.ißabylon thersßang,-- ri : ■ .They> only !sang, of' 1 Babylon; • ' I "Jehovah, round whose throne of awe The-vassal.stars their .orbits draw . Within the circle of . Thy law, : : Can'st Thou .'make : iiothihg what is done,. ;or. cause.Thy servant.'to 'be one That has hot been : in: Babylon, That has not known the power and pain ■ Of ,life poured ,out like driven ram? .1 will go down and find again. ■ i.' Sly soul that's lost in Babylon." ■ l : ', '■! Colton. . , SWEETHEART, Sweetheart, I am coming whero you sing beneath the rose . In .Arcady, tho beautiful, the fair; v . .< ; The lights are out m Athens-and thaplay has reached its c105e,..... .; A * .. ... The wine is very bitter flowing there! 1 Sweetheart, I.am coming from-.tho.battle- and the blight « / •»•••• To Arcady, the quiet' and'the sweet; \ . The'temples are abhorrent and the city moans • at, night, • ■ v And; hearts are burned to cinders in its ;heat!--i*; . Sweetheart, I am 1 coming to the valleys of our' rest -;:',' In Arcady, the garden,of.the gleam ;'./<> ■■■■.■ . Tho. stones are sharp in Athens and tho ar-' - .» torn .pierce-the'Weast, 1 - And fame is but a 6hadow;nn r a dream! Sweetheart, am:coming. to the- sunshine of ■!. your faco, ,/. , . . ;; The i'song. of' heart's delight' -and ' heart's re- - fiam, 11 y,. The : simplD, quiet, spirit of .the wayside "charm ■ and grace, -•..I- - ; /With lovo: within a cott'ago in .the lane!, Sweetheart, I have. listened to tho ■ siren voice full long, • The/false, the fickle music of the orowd;. .. ■ : The; trumpets die in echo, and the bills' forget their song, ' ' VAnd;Athens is so .busy being proud!' -iSweetheart; jweary of the hollow,; ihsin-. / cere, Selfish and self-seeking .-heart of man; I'm coming , back, to Aready, to Arcady the . -V... dear, ,(:■'!} ; ' : . , - Beside. the ' reedy river ' and the perished pipes of Pan 1 :■ -\ . . Sweetheart, -I',am. coming • where '-you sit • with .tender trust . . ' In Arcadv,- tho bloomy anct the bnght, ■■ To • purge my heart; of. vanity ■ and" cleanse "my ',V : V.' ' .soil ■ ofrrttitst; XiiVV"' " '>"j ■»" And ■ le;yve : the; lundv.Athens vto; its; niglit '• Sweetheart,.:! r nm coming where you'wait and are content, ..w-..;.-; .:. • .1 To seek thei.dewy fountains" of; the dawn, 1 r; c ;; 'Andchange: this - garb,' of: : conquest for: the . ■white habiliment : . ■ ■■ i . That they "who. go to Arcady put on! - ■ Sweetheart, it won't matter to the temples or the torn, 1 r -v"■ r.■-■.-bv 1 -; . . And Athens :will. go onward just tho samo -/.Whm l go- forth to greet'you where the' roses flutter down v :,! 't. "':v- 5 : ..'-V- ---;: Beyond the'bitter;iburning brand of flame; ; ' • But, ah, .the, all-revealing, .nn'concealing 'sweet ' of, : it,;--' : i; • In Arcady together, in the :gleam, * : Besido the qniet porches in our youth-returned to sit, ' ' " Blow the, bubble,; build tho castle, driam y: , the dream! '.■•*..v , i:v. .... —Folger M'Kinsey, in.the Baltimore "Sun."

AN ARRIVAL. There came to-port last Sunday night The queerest little craft, iWithout an inch of , rigging on. , , I looted, and ■ looked,' and laughed. It seemed so curious that she' ■ ;. V- .: ■ Should cross tho unknown water JAnd moor.-herself. witHin my'room--( My daughter, 0. my daughter! .• ITet, by these presents, witness all, She's welcome fifty times, . !And,comes consigned to Hope and Love' And common metre rhymes. , , : : .k'.'. Bhe has no manifest but. 'this * 4 No flag floats o'or the water; , , Bh6's rather new-ior.Britisli Lloyd's— My dapghter,' O.jiy daughter! J ; i Rim» : oat, .wild, bells—and tamo ones, too; • • ■ Ring out the lover's moon, Hing in-the littlo worsted socks, King in the bib and: spoon. out tliG-muse, nngiin the-'nurse,'v .King in tho nulk and water; 'Away with paper, pen; and ink— 1 My daughter,. 0 my daughter!. 'i' i —G. W. Cable. THE SHORT STORY AS LITERATURE Tho short story has arrived at tho dignity of olaborate treatment by no'less a critic than Professor . Brander Matthow;s m his lat- . est book,-."The. Short; Story :• Specimens • ils lustratingits Development 1 ,"- ledited..with in-,-traduction ar.d notes.. Let us say.at the out- . sot.that Professor Matthews's,iwork is'adequate in its kind;, nor can there be-objection . to. the.' kind itself. These. studies" of literary ... types—the., opic; ~tho; Iyric,v the. essay, - the • novel, tho short story, and so. on—may serve a - usoful,- -purposo. - Doubtless scholars will • - 6oon present us-.with -solid tomes on-the origin and development ;of the 10-line''ariecdoto and tho-joke of pomtaerce. Whon : those pre- :: cions .contributions '.to kriowledgo appear, wo ' • liopoto welcomo 'thcm suitably.' we : merely taHo'. ■ tho: publication : of Professor Matthows's book as ah occasion to remind our . . readorsYtb'at tho short .story is not ono of tko , highest'forms-of litorary art. That oonunon delusion, is fostered, in tho .., first place,-by our.periodicals.: All the popu- . lar magazines and newspapers print short v stories; 6ome of thorn print nothing, else. Worthy, people whose reading is confined to ■ -iheso. i beyond .tho stock-tables - and the news dispatehm many persons.apparently xead nothing-else—talk-.quite innocently of thoir fondness .for literature, and imagino they, Me sustaining their minds on the.,best writing of our writers.- We have all •. met ' unsophisticated '/'souls '', who speak of Richard-Harding Davis, for examplo,. as -.' if ho were Thackeray or Thomas Hardy. , But tho mistako is not oonfined to ' persons - : who aro relatively illiterate. Tho enormous ..demand for stories containing between • 2000 and 10,000 words lias its olfcct on the ■ minds of our professional authors. They seo that a carefully composed novel ,may havo but a. small sale; , that essays and . poetry hardly ,pay/their iyay ; but- that any iliterary . craft3mai. can; writo ; with' his ; left ; hand a short story that, somo magazino will buy. That is the, wide gate that leadeth to fame, &nd many there be'which-go :in thereat. Thus the fact that millions of people, incapablo of sustained attention to a 'book, : want literature in homoeopathic doses, has robbed H3 of the power . to ■ judge this kind of hack-work on its merits. Successful manufacturers of short stories !gravoly talkto the newspaper, interviewer about their "methods of composition," and allow their pictures to be. displayed in the litoraij magaEines,. apparently -under..tho impression that they belong to' the hierarchy of great no- < yelist-s and poets. And. somo; of .our collogo teachors, wo ro- . grot .to say,-, havo done their sharo in en r oouraging this folly. The theme-reader is always in danger.. of regarding bis geese, as cwans; and when, after ploughing through - thousands of pages of rubbish, be comes upon a theme which almost shows intelligence,

t ho is apt to think it bettor than it real] * is. Now tho short story is tho kind t thing which bright freshmen and sophomore bail" produce; it requires less thinking tha, good exposition ana ai^uraentation; but i •is often more entertaining. Hence wo hav the spectacle .of undergraduates allowed oven instigated, to mako their electivos L composition courses in short writing For,.tho exceptional man tho discipline ma vbe profitable; but.the majority of boys wh iiidulgo in this academic dissipation and th • instructors who aid and abet them aro th victims of self-deception'. If the matto ended with collego little, damage would b done. But aspiring youths, on tho strength o their' facility in carving cherry stones, sail; forth to lend tho literary life. < . To all theso misguided mortals—gonora readers, authors, teaohers and pupils—wi commend. Professor Matthews's boolc as .! corrective.. In spite of his own enthusiasm and his boliof that ' this form of writing i: "worthy. of careful. study," his admirabl; chosen specimens and his analytical intro ductiori make it clear, that with compare . tively few exceptions tho-short story 1 is mill for , babes. 'He gives us, to bo sifre, som( short stories which exhibit intellectual power and artistic skill; He shows'that t< observo all,tho limitations of this type is nt small achievement. But, then, tho number ol flawless short; storios, which may fairly van! high in literature, can almost bo oountec on the fingers. .Boccaccio, for instance, is ofter held up as a groat exomplar of the art oi writing snort stories; arid yet,'as Professoi Matthews notes, Professor C. S. Baldwin,\ol ' Yalo, : after analysing the hundred tales in the . "Decameron,".. reacfiM tho, conclusion thai more than half aro_littlo more than ancc' dotes, and most of tho remainder are but naked plots "ingeniously set forth, , but existing only ill scenario, so to speak;" Bui throa of . Boccaccio's tales approximate the . :;"tnio type-'of; short story," and only two "actually attain 1 to it." Tho difficulty with Boccaccio,' Professor Matthews thinks,, is , that-ho had in mind "no definite standard" as " typo and tcchniquo. Evidently our : loaraed professors , liavo. sot up a norm as ' '.rigid :aha/almost.,as:.,absurd, as the t-hreo unities of classic drama. .Be that as it may, modern practitioners aro all techniijuo, they to say, 'b'iit " they , say-it very well. Thoy, write short , " Professor Matthews quotes ••, Bliss Perry—tho short story_> does not require sustained imagination'; it. does . not. demand "essential sajiity, bteadth andXtoleranco of view," or consistency-, or ability to -"think things throiigh!;'> -In fine, though Professor Mat..thews would probably not go 30 . far, tho 'short; stojy.!is- tho. lowest typo of imaginative literature.; . In-99 cases out. of. 100 Jit is no.thing! moro than'.'whipped syllabub—a pretty "confection , for; young• who want to ;kills.time,'.,Tho ,r next- step' down from tho short' 'story- is- into',tlio:depths, of journalism '-Snows', stories,special/. articles for Sunday papers, reports of collego lectures, and\so oil to" the abyss of advertisements.and editorials. —New-York . . , X- : -'.THE ENGLISH'CLASSICS. ? Wo aro accustomed, and-with good reason, to .regard the - nineteenth . century. as the literature. ' Its ■ proso'. achievements "are unsurpassed, and probably,'unsurpassable, and in poetry ii'is pxcelled 'only'by ;tho;ago of-Elizabeth. Yet a tranquil survey- of . British . .poetry since •Wordsworth fills us 1 with certain misgivings. Did not. poetry, .in the excitement of. the return to nature, a ; littlo forget t and neglect man?-.; ; In, other.,words,: did".it, not,- in. ,theft effort;,.to •be .romantic,., artistic, symbolistic,' philosophical,-, or; what you will, miss that ;inagio balance of human interests which con■stitutes true classicism? . For a poem does :noti become classic merely by .efflux of time; if it is counted-a - olassic a thousand years after it was written, it'was as much a classic when . the'poet had written' its last word ; and though poetical criticism has worshipped many: false: gods,, it has - never .failed, . in some fashion-,or. another,' to recognise a,true divinity. False gods are worshipped only when true ones arc absent; men must worship something. But let a Horace', a Dantb, a Shakespeare,-.a -Burns-"appear, and the simulacra of ; poetry vanish - liko- will-o'-the- . wisps before the rising sun, 'The* difference between ,a,non-classic and a classic is as easy teperccivo and as hard to defino as tho difference between lamplight and;, daylight ,the .;heatj.of ,;a'.. ;.fire-' and ■ tho heat of the . I'ho ominous thing about the history °V S r, .W''iP.oetiyf. in • tho last century is that rt' includes many -brilliant-irruptions of/talent anddazzling victories of genius, it contains no record of general and firmly assured conquest. It' has a glory of the moon and of ; the' stars, but no broad triumphant glory of tho'sun.. , . ', then,' since wo 'seem driven to a definition, constitutes a-true poetical classic? iruth, above all, truth of inspiration in tho poet, _ and, m his work, of action, motive, and description; symmetry not only of. form interests, the human and oJeznental shading out by degrees .into tho non-human and. artificial, 'the permanent and universal mt-o the-temporary and,exceptional; the gift rather, than the accomplishment, of melodious and: appropriate verso: and, lastly, that! interaction, 1 mingling almost, of subjectivity Md objectivity. which makes the'poet, speaking'-; in -his 'own 'person,- the accredited representative of. all mankind, and 'his R®®9s?S®? ' tho infinitely .varying potentialities rof • ;-.his - own ' Protean self, and whifeh necessarily - includes '.tho dower of laughter and of tears.- Judged by this high, standard,- thore Vis not one of the great poeta of th"6 last century who does not faU short, at; ono point or another, of the full . perfection of classicism.- Generally speaking, their defect is that even wher any ono of them does not express only himself, his constituency is a class detached, bj cpmo special. circumstance of- education and environment,- from tho basal interests oi mankind. Wordsworth's main appeal is tc eclectics and recluses liko himself.; ho lookec not at maii himself but at man's imago ii external nature, - where ho saw only his owr pallid though perfectly sincere solf, repeated in - diminishing y .perspective, '. in' a troop 0' feebly garrulous ghosts whom ho and -hi: admirers took to~ be peasants. < Only 1 keenly sensuous , imagination; an' exquisiti ear, and an ; unapproachable - command of thi weird'saved Coleridge from becoming a lessei Wordswprth; he remains a in parts so long,' and only so long, as the Englisl language: "remains unaltered. . Byron's in evitable decline is a-moral nemesis; not al pis, fire and energy ■ can compensate for hi intolerableegotism, - vulgarity, and pose posterity- will' almost' infallibly visit on hi works the contemptuous indifference witl which he,'. 111 _ his ■ heartless, wasted Hfe, re garded the joys and sorrows of ordinar commonplace f01k..,. Shelley was a-spirit ai compact of fire, but the. fire, though it ha< much -iridescent light, had little or no heat His poems3xo .rainbows of tho brain, lovel' but unsubstantial, alluring.'and elusive. N' poetj not ovj>n Browning, is less understande< of th© people; he touches actual, workadalife at hardly a single point; and his func tion as the poet—the bakers' con rectionor —though it .-certainly 1 secures fo lum a choice and enviable immortality, afc solutely debars him from .the position of ; classic,;;;.;■ What has been said of Shelley ma apply _wt^y^io§t- ; ;equal-'force to Rossottl who,-though a-moro;cunnirig artist in word than,.;. Shelley', was infinitely 'beneath hit hothrin grange and ideas) • being inspire mainly-by aii" orotic pessimism aiid by a cui lously . un-Eflgiish of words for thei own sake.-,, - Tennyson is Rossetti writ liirg and popularisetl:. unhampered by oroticisn; pessimism,,or tho preoccupations of anothe art, he was able to dovoto his.wholo'euerg to expressing, in the most tuneful and mos flawless verso of which the.English languag is capable, the sentimental conservatism c the English middle classes. Yot thero ai poems, pf Tennyson's which indicate that ha ho played in a .theatre, liko Shakespeare, c been a farmer, liko Burns, tho Victorian shet of poetry would riot have had to bow to tl Elizabethan. The l - Bamo may bo said < Browning and Moredith, with this dilforenci however, tha,t wheroas Tennyson was spoile by popular favour, and in return spoiled fcl: British palato with metric dainties, .publ neglect at a critical momont acceleratc Browning's too-ready resort, to arm-cha philosophising, and sent Moredith, onr on] modern Elizabethan, to spin upon his ow axis, with - a L dizzy motion, imperceptible i the naked eye, in a lonely space of tho poot cal heavens. Merodith, with his maryolloua combin; tion of philosophical insight and rare beaui of language, may yet bo brought within tl

kon of the intelligent reader, and become a classic of a sort,- Keats's exquisite and unaffected treatment of, natural sensuous beauty constitutes a permanent element in his poems, and those of them that are undistorted by pseudo-mcdiacvalism may bo tfustod to rank as classics. Keats and Meredith aro at least two sides of the polygon Shakespeare. But, Tinlo can carry very littlo hand luggage. Much even of what of Tennyson and Wordsworth ho has packed into his, anthology-satchel may yet have to go into that "wallot on his back wherein ho puts alms for oblivion," Shakespeare and Burns he carries unabridged and open in his hand. The triumph of Burns, which is again being celebrated all over tho Anglo-Saxon/world, is evon a more striking vindication of tho claims 'of true classicism than that of Shakespeare, for Shakespeare's famo had not to cress tho frontiers of dialect ! aud localism. It is tho habit of uncritical people to wasto regrets over the' 1 , so-called handicaps under which Bums laboured. But the splendid poetical failures of the. last century may teach us to perceivo in Burns's vicissitudes the breath and fuel of that flamo of passion, sympathy, ' and humour which, had it bad'nothing but books to feed on and no fan but tho faint sibilancies of drawing-rooms and collego halls, might have flickered out at the first chill blast of criticism, or made futilo boil and bubble in the cauldron of politics. The shade of Burns may quarrel with Atropos, but not with Clotho or Lachesis. Ho might havo been a David on the throne, a Dante at tho helm .of State, a Virgil m 1 lettered ease. A genius ho would have been anywhere. But destiny would havo risked much by altering hor plans. What, is certain now is that she made'tho how, whore, and when of his life mysteriously'conspire to make a Scottish farmer a classic poet;—" Glasgow Herald." THE NATIVE FICTION OF CHINA. Accounting for the comparatively ■ small number of native works of fiction. familiar oven/to. the scholarly, classes .in China, J.R.C.," in the "Academy," adduces as causes of . tho deficiency (1) the fact that the ''literate" despiso fiction; - (2) that imagination is not a distinguishing quality of the Chinese mind; and (3), that "Book" Chincso is: a language in which tho Chinese novelist 'never speaks, thinks, expresses, or hears others express emotions or passions. Of tho most famous. Chinese: novel, "San Kwo Chili Yen," by. Chin Shan or Kuan Chung, several translations exist under tho title of tho "History of the Three Kingdoms;" It is, says "J.R.C.," "not only a thrilling narrative, but also affords one of tho best sources of : information on which scholars rely for knowledge of tho stirring time 3, of tho later Han, beginning about or before 200 A.D.—a notable period of Chincso history. ■ ■ "The 'Slmi Hu Chuan' is another fine, example of the historical novel, and deals with the doings of real brigands, prototypes of the modern Hunghutsze, who, [from] the safety of well-nigh impregnablo marshes, for years terrorised ah enormous area of MidChina. ■ "The 'Hung Lou Meng' or 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' is, by modern critics, placed alone in tho front; rank of 1 Chinese fiction. It extends to twenty-four volumes, and though the author is uncertain, tho date is placed by native scholars :in tho'seventeenth century;' Considering its huge length the plot is well constructed and the characterisation skilful. .Parts of it afford' pleasant reading, and the whole presents aspects of Chinese social and domestic, relations, and Chinese point of view on . many debatable subjects, as these could never bo extracted fromi any set voluriio of essays or ethics, or from many conversations with'the, frankest of natives. < . . " ' The Student's Daughter Revenged,' in the collection of dramatic 1 storios and plays called the Yuen-Jin-pe-Tchong* is a clover story of how a young woman out-manoeuvred thevillain, "■ who,' after various ' other illdoings, succeeded in'practically exiling her guardian on some distant mission of State in order that ho might work his/nefarious will on the unprotected girl refused to him in .marriage. Finally ,there, are, .the .criminal romances, which, but for nnduo length, are often capably conceived and; related. Tho' two best examples: of this class - aro the 'Liao Chai Chili,' _ written iir 1679':('Strange Tales : from- a Chinese Studio') ; and the Kuan' ('Marvellous Tales'), an earlior wiirk,' both now,- translated.. From one of those collections !comes'.' tho . 'Brass Nail Story,' 'pin excellent specimen, told with slight variations Jby several writers, and recently recounted at length in §ir ,C. Eliot's Eastern letters. . ■ < ' : "A magistrate being unable to-determine the.-cause of death in a murder trial' which ho had to decide found himself, in default, in peril of execution by virtue of local lap. In this dilemma his wife advisedhim to look under the root of tho victim's pigtail. In that well-concealed spot tho head of a nail revealed, at once the fate that'had overtaken tho deceased. Tho widow was arrested, confessed her crime, and suffored tho extreme penalty. But now tho magistrate was torn by new emotions. Secretly ho exhumed the body;of his wife's first.husband, examined the skull, and learned to his horror the oxcellcnt reason of tho lady's sagacity in the late difficulty. J'Tho. rest of tho story is given up to a skilful dotailing of the conflict which, proceeded in tho unhappy man's mind between : the. claims' of gratitude and: marital affection on the ono hand, and of personal fear and publio_ duty-on the other. Nor does the 'whimsical author think it'noedful to disclose how .this - mental .'struggle- ended.-, Chincso readers, however,, aro confident that in suicide, tho problem found solution." , \ ■■■■/ LITERARY NOTES. In an interview published in the "Observer," Mr.-Bernard Shaw assured his intervievver that he had no plans. "I am over fifty now," he said, "and have shot my bolt. I havo 'broken a hole in ,-the hodge ( for the younger men, and there is a whole string of thom passing through it and doing much more finished and less mannered work than' mine." : 1 , Tho Now. York "Nation" devotes several columns to a slumming up of Kipling's poetry, apropos of the publication of' a| volume of-his "Collected Verse." In the course of its article tho "Nation" says: But' .if.: Kipling's fame Tesis chiefly on his celebration of the British flag and the British soldier/ we must also add that ho presents two or > threo general ideas. In his vigour,' his youth, and his enormous popularity ho is often likened to Byron. The similarity, however, is superficial. Byron died at thirty-six, but ho loft a mass of verse that shows far _ wider intellectual range than all of Kipling's writing, verse and prose, put together.* Kipljng has given us nothing large and - sristained, nothing that exhibits high skill in architectonics., From Byron we, havo, in. addition to his numerous miscellaneous poems, "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," .eight or nine tales, like "Tho Giaour" and -'Tho Corsair,", eight dramas, and '?Don Juan"—all of them informed with ideas j all of them, to use Matthew Arnold's.phrase, a criticism of life. To compare Kipling's product with this is impossiblo. For. besides Kipling's proclamation of thoduty of conquering savago wilds and spreading Anglo-Saxon civilisation, and his exposition of the heart of the unlettered soldier and sailor; his chief contribution to our stock of ideas is his' theory of art: to wit, tliafj steam and electricity cannot kill romance. . . . Wo may doubt whether a man capablo of seeing lifo-steadily and' seeing it whole-would ever become tho victim of such small prepossessions. But whatever tho cause, the effcct remains: we cannot yet rank Kipling with tlioso poots who havo won immortality by their . "profound and beautiful application of ideas to lifo." .On tho day of tho late Francis Thompson's burial, his coffin contained roses from tho garden of Georgo Meredith, with Mr. Meredith's inscription, "A true poet, one of a small bandand violets from kindred turf went to tho dead poet's breast from the hand of her whom ho suns in poems which Patmore said that Laura would nave coveted and Lucrctia claimed. "Although as a nation wo lay more store by politics than most other nations, and rightly so, considering our responsibilities in

a tho world, wo for that very reason particularly distrust tlio 'more politician' and think s that a man whoso vision is limited to tho :i ballot-box and the House of Commons is not - the most fitted for tho task of governing his 0 oouutry." says tho "Times," discussing Mr. 1 Balfour s address on Decadence. "To go no 3 further back than tho last quarter of a cenr tiiry, Lord Beacon sfield's novels arc as sigt nifiennt as his political activities, and Mr. 3 Crladstono combined with politics and finance i tho study of theology, Dante, and Homor, ; v.-hilo among living statesmen, besides Mr. - Balfour, Mr. Morloy, Lord Rosebery, and I Mr. Haldano maintain the tradition of , serious work in tho literary field carried on ) concurrently with tho more engrossing oc- ; cupation of government. Mr. Balfour has i consistently shown throughout his career that > a lovo of philosophical reasoning and a curious subtlety of investigation into ultimate causcs aro no bar to very direct and masterful action when faced with practical facts of ad- • ministration." "Reading was tho lifelong hobby of Napoleon's leisure. In tho bare room of the penniless artillery sub-lieutenant at Valence, tho book-box,' his brother Joseph assorted, was larger than the trunks which sufficed for Napolepn's scanty wardrobe. In Paris, before Brumairc brought him forward to the first rank, ho spent his time'principally in the Bibliotheque Nationale," says "Chambers's Journal." . "A '.veritablo library accompanied him to Egypt ; and once definitely sottlod in France as First Consul ho selects, in tho Malmaison, tho quietest and most pleasant room for his first library. "Separated by a long 'Council Chamber' from Josephine's brilliant and noisy recep-tion-rooms, ij; looked out on three sides on tc tho quiet, leafy garden. A door opened or , a miniature bridge across tho moat. • On this 'bridgo an awning was fitted,up', and a smal table and chair placed. Thus on summoj days the Consul worked in tho open air with in easy reach of his works of reference. Thos< were some five thousand in number, histor; and , philosophy predominating. Frencl authora were naturally most numerous." Mr. Harry Furniss puts his recollcction of Lewis Carroll on record in the "Strand.' Masterpieco as it is, he' doubts whetlie "Alice" would havo, been much heard of i it had . not been for' Tenniel's illustrations yet ( it seoms that the Rev. C. L. Dodgson to givo Carrol] his real name, did not liki any of Tenniel's pictures, with .the singli exception of that or Humpty-Dumpty. Carrol was such a difficult man to work with and gavi Sir John Tenniel so'.much trouble that hi could not tolerate "that conceited old Don,' and after illustrating'the two "Alice" book flatly refused to illustrate any 'more'storiei for him, and so it came to pass that his Intel books were illustrated by Mr. Furniss. Car roll was delightful, but Dodgsor the critic was a ■ terrible trial. "Ho subjected every illustration to a minute examination under a magnifying-glass," writes Mr. Furniss. "He would take a square incl' of tho drawing, count the, lines I had made ill that space,, and' compare tflicirnumbei with those on a squaro inch of illustration mado for 'Alico' by Tenniell And in due course I would, receive a long essay on the subject from 1 Dodgson. the mathematician. Naturally, this ■to disagreements. . . In fact,' over tho criticism of ono drawing I pretended I could-stand Dodgson 'tho Don no longer, and wrote'-to Carroll the author declining to : complete the work. He replied pathetically: 'It is a severe disappointment to mo to find that' on account of a squaro inch of picture as to ; which wo disagree, you decline to carry out your engagement.' " But the dispute was presently arranged', and Mr. Furniss finished his work without further friction.