LITERATURE AND JOURNALISM.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 170, 11 April 1908, Page 12

LITERATURE AND JOURNALISM.

■ , . 'A. writer... in •a. well-known • 'periodical' took ( occasion recently to rjdiculo tho notion that there could bo'any connection between litera..turo aiid journalism. . . AVhicli catoc'iry :ho . conceived his own lucubration to 1 belong to ;does not interest us; -what is of interest is . .the question-which he 1 dismissed in so arbitrary a fesHion. ' Now to attempt to decido ' . this question by a definition of literature,' , „ and then of. journalism, • would bo as futile ' "• •^® s ;'B®,v®ttempt' : t0 illustrate by -.abstract' de- , . » . nnition, the djifercnce or. resemblance between : 1 a raountain ahd-a hillj'a forest weodi , \&;'?k e anda loch. As extreme individual _ cases, of course, thero is' no- diffi- .... •cnityi-'Mont Blanc is a mountain, Richmond Hill a gentle swelling;-"Hamlet" is literature, ■a; h'gh-church pamphlet. only. jour-. . nahsm. . But Ben Cleuch.-Bteppms'across the Allan Valley from tho Ochil Hills,-would i? 00£ o5!nc * "rampmn overtopping TJam Vaar ......by 200 ft:; and Mr. Andrew Lang's essays and Mr. Chesterton's ; articles .have only 'to dress tbpmselvcs in cloth; binding, and ier.p over from the newspaper file to the book6nolf, to be handled 'Ypjth rcvcrenco by thoso who ;womd havo thrown tho newspaper asido with a snort'of contempt: ' Clearly, tben, as : regards neutral territory, it is largely a roatdress and locality. Such a superficial . distinction will not satisfy the conscientious .. . critic. . Where tho Macleod. : sits,:that's the head of the table;" whero such as Mr. Lang are, there is literaturo. Journalism is justi- -- ■ lied of her children.' ' -V ' And tho list-of her. offspring is a long and ■ ■ '6 glorious one. It .begins,'• indeed,-'with the ■V-maker, of ..modern•' English, Addison, whoso ..Cavo . and-. 'Tho Campaign" are sll but forgotten, and whose reputation subsists on • : what he himself may havo regarded as journalistic scraps. As nnicli may-be said of - his partner, Steele. . Defoe was,,a journalist 1 ii'J" indeed; .ait :arrant,;. r type, - ; yet ~ all wrote that was not of/a controversial nature,'has become literature. Swift was • pOu a journalist jri thp ordinary- sense; that is, ho never ;wroteVfor. periodicals unless ho " a d _a political V'Cn4''-:tov'Mrfe..>.'. , ]?jplding , s purely journalistic .work, has gono' under, ■ yc-t -. it • gave/-him- tho.^mechanical.. training 'that carriotl-his genius through the intricacies of T° ma'ny.ipeople tho ."naivetes of The : Vic,ir df 'Wakefield", are less pleasing tho,brilliant asides wherewith Goldsmith adorns the so-called' hackwork of his miscellaneous essays:, ''Tho. Citizen/of -..the " T ls P Uf e. journalism., 'What is ,wrong with Johnson's"Rambler" is.tbat it is not ... journalistic enough; it departs from the-tra-dition of artistic lightness established by Addison, and occasionally degenerates into something that combines tho shallowness of . tho worst journalism with the heaviness of a philosophical treatise. Johnson,'in fact, often harnesses elephants, to wheelbarrows. It was the., Johnsonian tradition, creeping into tho daily' Press, that created that tendency to ponderous trifling which was until recently tho most , patent defect: of modern journalism; . Yet even the suneriluous folds of the Johnsonian mantle could not provent a vigorous blow proceeding now and then from the main body of journalism: pponlo still read the letters of Junius, and articles from "Tho Times'!, have found their way . into prose anthologies. As, for' the Spies anil sharpshooters, who were the first to fling off the Johnsonian encumbrances, one need "only ' mention tho names of Lamb, Hazlitt, Hunt, and Dickens to indicate tho extent to which literaturo has travelled along the highways of journalism. All tho writers wo have mentioned woro, in their time, journalists in the rcry strictest sense of tho word. If tho term is widened so as to include weekly and monthly periodicals, it will includo also every name in tho encyclopaedia of literaturo from Addison down to Riiskin. ' ' Journalism : sunplies the ili terary needs of - , the day. But the essential necylj 0 f to-day are also thoso of to-morrow, and every part : of a paper not occupied by purely formal or

I utilitarian matter is a field ready-plonghec lor the rcoeption of literary sood. Every sen tonco in which a writer steps out from tin candle-light '.political..- or class preiudic< into tho broad sunshine of universal principics, is a possible picco of literature; for f currency. bill is as near, the centre of cre.-b tion as a playof; Shakespcaro. Tho light, tho relation, are overything, the subjcct nothing; a . spider .may spin his web from t.h< trunk of a tree or\from tho outermost, twig. ,Tho writer may have to spin'towards ono - sido only, , ■ and that tho side away '- from his > own V convictions; still tho tents of,, a. political party may happcri now amd then, to bo along' the line of.-eternal principles.! As for limitations of space, Bacon's best essays aro shorter than most newspaper articles. ' • Naturally, the daily newspaper, is not the appropriate vehicle of tbo'more special forms of litaratiuo. . . But in it an author may lay the foundations of a fame strong enough to support the elaborate structure of a treatise, history, itinerary, thesis, novel, or even drama. :• With tho example of Mr. Bernard Shaw his eyes, a writer' omi hardly plead that-liis-personality is too vigorous to ocnforni to tho oxigcncics of journalism. Ono of tho most remarkablo features of modern,. journalism., is tho readiness with which newspapers open their columns to contributors, of all shades of opinion. It would ■bo .-.tho; insanost'. ingratitude iii authors to snoei: at an institution which- has relieved them from oondition in which thoy ,wero left ;by : disappoarnnco, or socalled popularising'of many of best magazines,.-. Tho rooms, in 'the 'new" lodgings' aro somewhat narrcSwor tlutn in tho pld,'lult thero are mow of. thenv; and they, afford' readier access to the righfe'sort of; public. ,- And ■'thero can be no doubt that both literature and journalism- will benefit by moating neuthil srrpuhd. .-Life is tho subject, matter;.of'both; literature .-only, placw in a bread and permanent relation what journalism deals: with absolutely or* in the light of the day; 'Socrates, ivho-.;'w.qyo,* : tho /gossip of" Athens' into-' tho textuvo of his philosophy, would havo been R welcome, contributor to-tho modern Press. Journalism, on. tho one' hand, .will nspiro to 'excellencies of literature, sine© [■hero is.no,reaspnnvhy an account of an icci-3-071%■should not", be as good as a page of Zola; while, literature,, imitating tho . quick touch arid •concrete exactitude' of good journalism,-ivi-11 .learn to walk before it flies. The bad •>ld journakso -will vanish, and non-human literature; 'which'' i£sad literature, be 'driven to its', last refuge in crank magazines. It is .mfiwhiraable nowadays to speak of educative Muoncesyet, if tlio-term be for once j>ernitted.us,;what.'influenc6 can bo moro highly jducativethan' that of a publication in which ;ho: temporary and etern.-l assets of human ife-,n're presentedsido by side ?—"Glasgow lorald." ■ i , ■ ■ , OSCAR WILDE. . I saw Oscar Wildo s'ome five or six times it the most. - I liad no occasion to noto any >f them except tho last, and though I rememler'hira very well I am vaguo as to date and luhject of_talk:' ; it.-must have, been iomewhero in tho eighties, at Henley's houso, it .Chiswick.. A. 'oand of us used to go there >'■[ Saturday /flights. I ;think, wo 1 went, a3 Jlarendon says ■ men repaired to Falkland' 3 louse, "as to a college." 'There was much .0 learn and even more to amuse. .'T havo lever, heard such 1 good talk either before or linc'o, I ' and lam r not l like to- hear it again. iVilde used to journey, out thero to' join in .ho - talk; which, as a listener onco said to no, was as the incessant play of swords m he,hands of.masters of fencing. : 'Wildo, oddy enough, seemed the most conventional of he group. Ho >was.; in , evening' drosshe .alked well,indeed, but without extravagance. rVhat poso ;he (bad was .for others; .he did lot bulk as the most prominent figure. Henley hims'elf was -a nia'ster of talk. He lad .'wide knowledge ind. wide, sympathy, adairablo expression,' a keen senso -of tho nimorous; and thore was It. A. M. Stevenson —strange, weird, unique,- a 'very magician— o :hear..whoso- talk, was,to "hear: a wizard nusic roll." ■On the, instant, ho: would rearrange tile wh/ilo' universe on a whimsical, nginal, highly delightful, perfectly coherent, ■n'd perfectly ridiculous plan. R. L. S., his uorofamous but not more gifted' cousin, lias [escribed tho two men as Burly and Springleeled Jack in his famous ossaj; on "Talk and Filters.V-. His phraso, tho. "insane lucidity if his conclusions," admirably describes the mmutablo "Jack." ■ If Wildo hold his. own rith two such-masters'he did well. 1 And the übjoctsf "Quicquid agunt homines,but nost of all,art and letters. - The only\definite hing I recall is a little joke of Henley's, "hero .was'a large sunflower in the garden, nd as we came out late ono night Henley tood on ,the threshold. "Sparo my suiiiower, Oscar," lie. said.'.- The days passed', lufc I cannot tell why. Wilde camo no more, was to see him'-but onco again. . I was preeht nt' the; Oldßailey when he was prosecuor iii a libel case. I listened to his cross«amination' by ;: Sir .Edward,., then'Mr, 1 . Caron, well-nigh the most; skilled counsel at itho inglish Bar in that stylo of work. Hoi had ;bundauce of material, and in ono fatal hoursaw a character, a, life—or,; at any ' rato, .11 that makes, life.worth livings-dissolve and lass like the base-less fabric of a vision. ' Of late Wilde's name has como again before he public. His plays, and no wonder, are in i avour ■at the, theatres.' There are-several ives ,of him, apologetic or laudatory. . His /orks aro on the stalls, and there is scarcely .nything to object to in his written words. \e feel kindly .towards the authors'wo ad"u-®-., They hayo given us pleasure,, .and l »on.they strike-a personal.noto we think it them as friends. And is a 'Beo-saw n.,tho 'Toputation, 'of nil famous' men; we nud o'r blamo them in excess., How .difficult o striko a just medium, and especially in ho case of this brilliant, perplexing figure if,tho late Victorian era—this man.whoso°lifo vas so remarkablo, whoso, end was' so < unforunate that it mi»ht- chit tho malico of his nttorost fool-. ... ;iHe was a brilliant,''.talented, and delightful mter, but ho liad 'fio scrap of real genius, io realised his oiniHi'mitations. At Oxford 10 was a gifted and successful,student. , He much of the art arid lotters of Groeco* tnd Rome and mediaeval Italy, and his taste ras; excellent, and therefore I think his do-' pair was sometimes groat. Did be not feel iimself a'dwarf"ambngst thoso giants? A man" if liandsomo presence,.' a reasonably proslerpus career lay beforo ■ him. Yet'at the '9 it was that,of a minor poet and a minor mthor, and his ambition was from tho first mbounded. . If he could" not have fame by air , moans..ho , .would , get it by foul. If ho vero nob in truth famous ho miizlifc bo in act notorious;, better to reigii -in~holl than 01T0 in .heaven,'. Peoplo talked of him as a pol, but they talked of him. In truth, ho fas no fool; he had a clear, deliberate pur>ose, and ho set his teeth and went through iiuch. tlisagreeablo experience to 'attain it. Jo was peltetl and ridiculed for his dress and us talk, his cult of tho peacock feather and .ho sunflower, but ho had the' benefits -he stinted ori'.'" He' once frankly- stated that io wrote a volume of poem's which : no' publsher would accept until ho ran tho aestlioic craze. Then the same publishers gave nrri "highly satisfactory terms. ' : _ As regards the aesthetic doctrine, tho truth lcs m a nutshell. He had pood tasto, he lad known what was best in tho art and leters of the old world; thero was much to :arp at in the-vulgarity of tho mid-Victorian ira, and wo are not an artistic people, and iko fools in general wo mock at what we f'linot understand and do not appreciate, ?hat was tho grain of truth in Wilde's bushel if chaff. And the grain bore fruit. I think t'e are not "so" vulgar or clumsy or brutal— >erhaps wo aro not so simple or so honest ir .so reasonable—as we wore fifty years ago. >till, we are in somo ways better, and Wildo's nfluenco was somo small factor in'tho ad--ance. But when a man attains notico by legitimate means ho puts himself on a deconding grade. There must bo a iiew, senation to counteract tho forces pushing him lack to obscurity; and so Wildo was led first ,o play with the vices, of tho antique world md then to becomo tlioir slavo, until tho :rash bocame inevitable. Just beforo that rash his methods to obtain notico wore perectly succossful. A greater poet and a bet;er man had a century earlier defiantly wol:omod the famo brought him by actions'which lad certainly banished him from tho chaste Saturday night circlo of his omi cottar— "Tlie inair they talk, I'm kent tho bettor, E'en let them clash." )no wonders if Wildo ever read or evor renomberod the lineß. However, ho wag rich ind honoured. His income had roaehod 28000; publishers would give anything for hia

writings; he was the idol of a largo body ol highly placed men. "Fortune had so turnec niy head that I fancied I could do whatovei I chose.'' It required hut u breath to destroy this. A writor talks of the "fatal inMlenco" of his attack upon Queensb'erry This is the common opinion, and it is absurd. Inactivity had boon equally if not more Fatal; he must crush or be crushed. Of his methods of triclc of his stylo the most common was the inverted commonplace. Very successful at first, as sucli things are, it began to pall. "The English bavo everything in common with tho Americans, except, of course, language;" or "Industry, tho root of all uyliness; or "Enough is as,good as a meal—" but ono lioed not multiply. illustrations. Less orude offects arc gamed by distorting tho relative importance of things. At Oxford ho said ho was "determined to live lip to his bluo china."' He would curse Bayswater as tho prophets cursod Babylon, or profess an exaggerated esteem for his own writings. He had worked hard all day at a poem, he said; in the forenoon ho had taken away a comma, and in tho afternoon ho had put it back again. It were unfair to deny him moro solid merits. His poems are vastly clover, and they occasionally rise into genuinely powerful expression, yet they aro a curious collection of echoes. Is not this from "Adonais," or this, again, from "In ?tfemoriam," or this, again, from 'The Ancient Mariner"? you ask., Even moro present, though not so obvious, becauso, moro remote, and, as it seems, more permissible, are tho echoes of tho Hellenic world. There is occasional extravaganco, as the famous "Neither for God nor for His Enemies, , hut most of his poems aro roally very, admirable college exercises. There is one. oxccption, "The Ballad of Reading Gaol," writton after his release. It is much in tho manner of "Tho Ancient Mariner," and yet although the echo haunts tho rosier, it now and again reaches high, original level. Ho imputed feelings to the mass of prisoners which thoy cannot possibly have had, but as it pictures forth his own emotions, tho "note of sincerity is unmistakable. The horror and degradation of tho prison ca'mo to him most strongly when ho brooded over it in freedom, and ho sets it forth with direct forco. Hero you have suroly tho lyrio cry of personal omotion. . . . As a story-teller he is interesting, though not.remarkable ; ho hod not that wide grasp of life, that fertility of invention, that closeness of observation which go to tho making of a great novelist. The "Portrait of Dorian cmii n an , , Cr imo °f Lord Arthur baviUe, to take but these examples, aro 1 cadablo and noteworthy, but again vou catch tho ec.io. Wildo- was curiously im'itativo; his working coat was copied from that in which Balzac toiled, and tho "Portrait" obviously suggests "Lo Peau do Chagrin." hlo dressed his hair on tho model of tho bust or JNero in the Louvro, and much in him suggests the decadence, though it may bo tho impressive> decadence, of tho Roman Emperors. It is as a dramatist alone that his work hair any chance of permanence, though it is not likely that what is so closely modelled to tHe stylo of. one age can hit tho tasto of successive generations. Of tho wholo circlo of brilliant, and gifted Elizabethan - dramatists, ; bhakespeare alone holds the stage to- £> /'wm i " holds everything. ■ let \\udo as playwright must remain with us for sometime at least.' Authors,'critics, actors have borne testimony to his admirable stage offect. Almost by intuition he understood what was wanted -in tho theatre.' His comodies aro in their own little genre per-' fection. An incident in society life is taken; it is made the subject of an admirable storv, tho talk is witty and'agreeabloj amusing epigramsi abound.everything is in tho best possible tasto. \ou are pleased and amused in -l° U } lav % a . lo Kitimato satisfaction at. a brilliant and intellectual effect. Such pieces are common on tho French stago, but thoy are not so with us, in spite of counts less adaptations. Hero Wilde is moro 'original, moro himself than elsowhero; if the pieces own to French influence, that is not ip p arent "Lady , Windermere's Fan" is an deal trifle of its kind. The tragedies are on tho samo: level. "Salome" has passagos of power and splendour, but, as yoii so n find its bffccts aro gained by means , neither entirely wholesome nor enuirely legitimate. !" oma r ka blo work remains for notice. Whilst in prison Wildo wrote "De Profundis," Jivon .to tho world, only■> after his', death.' ill ere aro no epigrams and no poso; it is the roal utterance of tho soul, tho sweet fruit of idversity. \ ou cannot praise it without ro]''J° ar ° liystoncal, and can you wonlor r Tho character of Christ as tho great arof life is fantastic, aud the account of His teaching almost grotesque. "To turn in interesting thief into a tedious honest man iras not-His aim,; the conversion of a pnbli--ap into a Pharisee would not havo seemed H,n l a ITcat achievement.' But in a man•er not yet understood of tho world Ho rejardod sin and sufforing as being in themlelves beautiful, holy things." Yet he seems cn ho ranks himself - with t tlm fnef Wlth . th « Magdalen it tho feet of tho Saviour, with: the woman ,vho compared herself to. the dogs that fed lurniiitv'-lml i H - e '? ocs tllat in the-futuro w ; y T d su '! m ! s ? lon aro for him the esnn V*' • ln ., s( : o ' us ' on , in communm nature, m toil in his own vocation, lid m £ J i out a future for himself, on* days.'-ar of hopo shines—tromuhrht ul thp /'"I lndecd V y efc so as to ight up the darkness of his prison coll I'll Hn a t ll Vrit f tC^ in simp!o ' beautiful Englsh. Ho tells of his past lifo. "There was lo pleasure I did not experience. I-threw 'ho pearl of my soul into a cup of w'ino I T f P V mros ? P ath , to tho sound. _ (lutes. I lived on honeycomb." And igain with perfect felicity he has sketched character, of,the Philistine for all time In uheir heavy inaccessibility to ideas, their ull respectability, their tedious orthodoxy jheir worship of , vulgar success, their entire •id o ° C nf Ul |?fn 0n .the. gross, materialistic t and their ridiculous estimate of ,hom„olves and their importance, tho Jews if Jerusalem in Christ's day were tho exact wn" Twill n > B f tisll Philistino of our „ , 0t £ q ;', o - tc moro - Beautiful and -ruthful much of this tract is. Again, inufit7sTtr horo •'•?' * VOU oatch an ™ho, lut-it IS of tho exquisite words of our Enr^ l' 'Sn! 11 °f the Scriptures.bo \\ lido planned in his prison cell. We enow it was not to be. Even as she who fled rom tho cities of the plain,, he looked back Sir • T lr l'-° stud , les Wde to any p,,rrte was, was^vab. V The^i^clp