LITERARY LETTERS.

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1336, 13 January 1912, Page 9

LITERARY LETTERS.

A recently published volume of "Letters to William Aliingham" provides "The Nation" with some good skimming's. Allinghnm succeeded Fronde as editor of "FraserV Magazine," and anion? his correspondents were Leigh Hunt, Emereori, Carlyle, i'uskin, the Brownings, Itoseetti, and William Morris. A good deal of tho correspondcncs is of no great literary value, but hero and thero we come upon interesting criticisms and confessions. Tims we find Leigh Hunt writing, "to prevent mistake," that ho found "Sordelio" "nothing but a pir-o of rich confusion; confining ono most confoundedly." In another letter, referring to Moxon's edition of Ilia own poems, ho says: "f ehvay3 loug to mako my editions just / half or a fourth part of what they u're, to givo myself a bettor chance of lifo. I should like to bo a thin, very thin, little book, which people would c.irry in their pockets, like Gray or Collins. Tho most llattering of my dreams is that, by and by perhaps, somebody may pare me down to this." Carlyle's letters are characteristic. He advises Allingham to confine _ his main onorgies to prnsa, and tu write only a little poetry, "by way of fringe or shirt frill to tho other ssrt"; dissuades him from tho "questionable enterprise" of coming to London lo live by lii« pen; anil, while insisting that "the gr'v'it tiling requisite (and that is inexorably yo) will bo to meditate in your own unwearied

thought," recommends him certain books on Irish hislory, and gives tho following excellent counsel about reading in general :— "One book leads to another: Begin with almost any book on tho subject, read it carefully, with all your faculties awake; it will gradually lead you towards better books, and, tho subject growing more luminous at every step, you will sea more and moro where tho real centre of it lies for you, and how you are to strive towards that. For every subject, and History above all others, has what wo call a different 'centre' for every different man; and it is of great importance thlit every man should candidly listen to tho monitions of his own mind in regard to what is really interesting and nutritive to him as an individual, .and try all foreign monitions, with patience, with modesty, j-et with courage, and silently reject'them if they do not lit with this." An amusing anecdoto of Carlyle, told in AUiugham's "Diary," is also "'mentioned in the "Letters/' William Black wrote to Ailingham that it had always been one of thu ambitious of his life "to see Carlyle face-to-face," and asking tho poet to try and arrange for a live-minutes' interview'. Aliiugham brought about the desired meeting, at which Carlylo's inquiry, "Well, sir, and when are you going to seriously set about writing a book?" must have astonished the popular novelist. Jlrs. Carlyle, in ono of her pleasantly ironical letters, dated ISofi, endorses Allingham's description of "Kuskin's book" (probably tho third and fourth volumes ot "Modern Painters") as a mixture of "claret and butter-milk." "But," she adds, "what could be expected from a man who goes to sleep with, every flight, a different Turner's picturo on a chair opposito his bed that 'he may have something beautiful to look at on first opening his eyes of a mofning' (so his mother told mo) ? ... Ho is amiablo and gay anil full of hopo and faith in—ono doesn't know cxactly what; but, of course, he does." She also comments on Tennyson's "strango excitement" about "Maud"—"he seemed as sensitive to criticisms as if they were imputations on his honour"— and tells her correspondent to be a poet by all means, "but for Cod's sake beware of becoming too caring about whether yonr gift is appreciated by 'tile million'— of Jackasses." There are several short letters from Ruskin, among them one which gives some interesting views of tho poetry'of Longfellow and Lowell. In Kuskin's opinion, neither wrote finished, 'or oven good, poetry; but he believed that the "Psalm of Life" had "more beneficial influence on this generation of English than any other modern composition whatever, except Hood's 'Song of the Shirt.'" High praise is also given to Lowell. Lowell I have myself received mtfre help than from any other writer whatsoever. . . . For real utility, I think his shrewd senso and stern moral purpose worth all Keats and Shelley nut together. I don't compare him with ICoats, but I go to him for other articles—which I can't get from Keats—namely, Conscience— Cheorfulness, and Faith."