MR. BENSON'S LATEST.

Dominion, Volume 7, Issue 1940, 24 December 1913, Page 11

MR. BENSON'S LATEST.

Mr. E. F. Benson gives his admirers in his "Thorley Weir" (S. Bell and Sons, per Whitcombe and Tombs) not only ono of tho prettiest love stories ho has yet written, but somo excellent light comedy. The leading character is a middle-aged Londoner who is a power in the world of art and tho drama by his work as a critic. Tho artful Mr. Craddock not only writes about pictures and plays, but deals in them. Ho makes a speciality of finding out now and promising young artists and playwrights, and securing, by a seemingly generous first payment, whilst yet their work is undiscovered by picture buyers and theatrical managers, options on a series of pictures or plays. Ho has a marvellous flair for budding genius, and when onco 110 has got his claws on & clover young man, booms his_ work in tho journals for which ho writes. Also 110 is, though the fact is not publicly known, tho real proprietor of a West End picture gallery, and has amassed quite a respectable fortune by his clover unloading upon American and other buyers tho masterpieces he lias discovered and boomed. How this ingenious rascal "discovers" a clever young artist and an equally clever _ young dramatist and gathers them into his net, how 110 treats both, especially the artist, with quite contemptible meanness; how 110 "rooks" a foolish old gentleman out of a cool £5000 011 a "deal" over a portrait by Romney; how lie becomes the rival of the young artist for tho hand of tho foolish old gentleman's pretty daughter; how for a time.lie prospers exceedingly, but how also, in the long way. he is neatly bowled out and made to disgorge his ill-gotten gains—all this and much more Mr. Benson tells in a brightly-written and most entertaining story, by far the best we have had from this author for somo time past. A most readable and enjoyable novel. "THE YOKE OF PITY," "Tho Yoke of Pity" (Fisher, Unwin; per Whitcombe and Tombs) is the title of an English translation by that clever young novelist, Gilbert Caiman, of a French novel, "L'Ordination," by Julien Benda, which, in. its original form, has had so great a success in Franco, and which has sinco been translated into Gorman and Italian, and other European languages. It is a strange, and, to my mind, very morbid production, and although it is not without a curious psychological interest, I can hardly understand how its voguo should have been so great. Assuredly it stands quite apart from the ordinary run of French novels. As a matter of fact, it is much less of a novel than a study of tho curious workings . of a man's mind. The story is divided into two parts. In tho first part, we have tho rather dreary narrative of a clever young Parisian's liaison with a woman, a married his inferior in education and social standing. Tlio liaison ends, on the man's side, in satiety and mental boredom, the feeling of the lover towards tho woman in tbo final stago of the attachment, being akin to positivo revolt, almost hatred. So far, tho story is a mero episode, described in a De Maupassant vein, but with littlo of that famous contour's charm of stylo. 111 tho second part, in which I can find but littlo connection with tho first part, the hero is married to a young ami charming woman, by whom he has a girl child, who, ( unfortunately, becomes afflicted with hip disease. The story now resolves itself into a painfully de- . -liled dissection of tho working of tbo father's mind with regard to tho highly intellectual work upon which ho is engaged, and tho bearing upon this work and his lifo generally of the feeling of pity 110 should naturally have for his afflicted offspring. I find it rather difficult to reflect in brief the author's point of view, the point of view that is, of tho author-parent, but it would seem that the latter is in a state of perpetual mental troublo as to whether ho should givo up his timo to his wifo and child, or to his studies. • Tho author, in one passage, contrasts "tho fervour with which a man embraces tho creatures of his blood" with "that deep-seated fervour with which a man cleaves to thoso who are of his moral raco . . . tho few rare men who through tho ages had really broken free of human blood and had burned for tho Idea." In tho author's notes, which follow tho story proper, this glorification of pure]} -ltcllectual activity is strenuously and, 110 doubt, sincorely laboured. As thus: "Obviously everyone will admit that intellectual activity at tho highest pressure—like that of a . seeker, or an. active contemplation of any kind —demands the entire absorption of the soul wherein it dwells and cannot coexist with any passion of the heart." All I can say is that I question tho truth of that adverb "obviously." To me, this book of M. Benda's is not only a morbid and cruel production, and I believe tho author, if ho bo _ really sincere in his presentation of his case, to be entirely wrong-headed in his point of view. M. Benda himself feels that there will be few sympathisers and supporters of his contention that to achiovG a great triumph of intellectual activity, there must necessarily be a suppression of all human —and natural—emotion in tho intellectual worker. For lie says: "It may be the only merit of this book that it lia3 brought into tho clear light of day tho extraordinary detestation which nowadays is felt for tho religion of the mind, and that an author who has delighted in its description is therefore, in this year of grace, treated by supposely cultured peoplo as though 110 had written an apologia of robbery or murder.'' But if M. Benda's "religion of tho mind" be fairly expounded by his hero, Felix, then "Liber," for one) will cheerfully voto with tlio majority in refusing to accept such a distorted and false conception of man's ethical and natural duty. "The Yoko" is certainly a very extraordinary book, but I should bo sorry to think' tho theories set forth with such grace of literary style, but in 60 coldblooded a way, wero destined to be widely held, either in France or in any other country. MR. HARDY'S LITTLE NOVELS. Tho nows that Mr. Thomas Hardy is to receivo tho Nobel Prizo for Literature gives an additional interest to tho appearance of a new collection of stories from his pen. Tho title is "A Changed Man, Tlio Waiting Suppor, and Other Tales," concluding with tlio romantic "Adventures of a Milkmaid" (Macinillan and Co.). It is fifteen years or so sinco Mr. Hardy'u much, and as I shall always consider, most stupidly and un-l'airly-abused novel, "Judo tho Ob-1 scui'u," was published, and tho author made up his mind to abjiiro for a wliilo at least, tbo writing of fiction, and to turn to poetry. Since then bo has given us tiiat lino Napoleonic drama,

"Tlio Dynasts," and two volumes of slighter verse, but his older and still faithful admirers would fain pray for a return to fiction. The volumo now before 1110-contains what Mr. Hardy calls a dozen minor novels. All of them liavo already been published in various periodicals, tlio latest to appear having been published in "Tlio Sphere" in 1900, and the earliest, "What the Shepherd Saw," in tlio Christmas number of the "Illustrated London News," 1881. There is not, howovcr, ono in which Mr. Hardy's special quality of irony is not present. Somo readers there may bo who may quarrel with the author's insistence upon the ironic in life, in fate, and grumble at the permanent greyness of the atmosphere, tho frequency of tlio element of tragedy, of tragedy that is positively Greek. But what other English writer, what other writer of any country, is there who can caual Mr.

tlardy in tht» unerring realism ol his analyses of human passions? And tho grim humour that crops cut iu these .stories, how fascinating it should be to all lovers of really good literature, 'l'ho book well deserves li place alongside "Wcssex Talos" and "Life's Little lionies"—not one story would I have missed. In two or three, as ill "The Duko's Reappearance," and "A Committee Mau of tho Terror," there is an historical interest, but personally 1, prefer tho author of "Tess of tho D'Uroervilles" when lie writes of tho Wcssex rustics, of such plain folk as shepherds, and milkmaids, rough spoken, reserved, but strongly passioned men and women. Of the new batch of stories, my favourite is "The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid," which first appeared (in "Tho Graphio" summer number) as far back as 1833. , In this thero is a pleasant vein of comedy, ami tho author has, for once, most charitably accorded tho players of tho two leading parts a fairjy "happy ending." A little masterpiece, though in quite a different genre, is "Tho Grave by tho. Handpost," in which an almost cruelly sardonic note is struck, and the pathos of the title story is another singularly tino achievement. I would I had time and spaco to enter into a detailed appreciation cf these "little novels," tho all too-belated collection of which surprises ma. so much that is really notable in literature is there contained in tho volume. What would wo not give for a new long story, another such superb "three-decker" as, say, "Tess of tho D'UrboryilleS," or, in the earlier manner, the ever-delight-ful pastoral, "Far From tho Madding Crowd." Perhaps it may bo that tho enthusiastic reception which those "minor novels" are getting from tho English Press may induce the author to go back on his resolution to leave the field of fiction to other workers. SHORTER NOTICES. Edgar Wallace's "River of Stars" (Ward, Lock and Co.; per S. and W. Mackay) is a well-written, interesting story, in which ; a highly-placed police official, in lovo with a very charming girl, discovers and thwarts tho deeplaid scheme of a couple of clever and unscrupulous adventurers to swindle the young lady and her brother out of a valuablo diamond mine. Mr. Wallace proves himself quite tho equal of Mr. Oppenhoim—an admitted expert in this kind of thing—in tho ingenuity with which the swindlers carry out their "nefarious little plan," and tho African scenes are strong in local colour, aa might bo expected from the creator of tho famous Sanders. A very readable yarn. '

Three eminently readable novels came from Messrs. Cassells and Co. (0. S. and W. Mackay and Whitcombe'sJ. These are "The Spirit of the West," oy Joseph Hocking; "A Preacher of tho Lord," by Alice and Claude Askew; and "Prairie Fires," by Annie S. Swan. Mr. Hocking is always at his best when his background is the land of Tre, Pol, and Pen, and in an interesting prefatory note he claims that although during the last twenty-five years ho has written many Cornish stories, he lias ".never got so near t-hn heart of the Delectable Duchy as in "The Spiirt of tho West." The novel possesses an interesting supernatural element, and is a spirited and decidedly interesting story, which should still further strengthen this favourite novelist's reputation, with his own particular public.

Alico and Claude Askew's latest story has for its hero a young. Welsh minister, who ' marries a frivolous London girl, who, unknown to him, had been tho causo of his brother's disgrace nn{l death. It is a story of shong human passions, and, although somewhat highflown in its style in certain passages, is free from tho melodramatic sensationalism which tho authors general affect. Tho simple-hearted, honest AVelsh country girl, Nest, is a well-drawtt and lovablo' figure.

"Prairie Fires," by Annie S. Swan, is a pleasantly-told story of Canadian life, the liero being a young Englishman, who, after inanv mistakes and trials, succeeds in winning an excellent wife, and in rising io political eminence in his adopted country ?.!ks Swan is a much-practised story-toller, and there is a new and decided rigour and a lack of moralising about the story which will appeal to many readers who'have hitherto may havo found this author's books just a little tepid in interest.

The annual br'eakjng-up and prizegiving of St; James's School took place on Thursday evening. After games and tea the children, under their teacher, Miss Mowbray, gave a bright little programme of recitations and musical items, Mrs. W. Colo acting as accompanist. The prizes wero presented by the Rev. W. Shirer as follow Special prizes—Attendance: Ivy Chote and Myrtle Chote. Manners and neatness: Stanley Gridley. _ Marks: Olive Ramsay, Sewing: Marjorie Bonner. Standard II —Attendance: Clara Heath. Standard I —Marks and drawing: Arthur Williamson. Writing and general work: Ruby Chote. Reading: Olivo Coutts. Arithmetic : Douglas Ramsay. Lower Standard I—First marks: Reg. Osborn; second marks, Harry Myerscough. Writing: Stewart Ramsay. Improvement: Liolen Tyler. Sccond Primer—Good conduct: Elsie Harvey. Writing and sccond sewing: Laurel Duff. Drawing: Muriel Staples. Reading: Archie Bonner. Arithmetic: Howard Hoare. First Primer: Vera Osborn. Ngaire Lemmon and Reg Scoborio also received prizes. Miss Mowbray was the recipient- of a handsome silver trinket' bos from the pupils of the school.

Tho Kent-Terrace Private Kindergarten and Preparatory School held their annual breaking-up in tlio Presbyterian Schoolroom 011 Wednesday. The children went through their games, marching, and songs in a very creditable fiia.ll- - affording everyone present much pleasure. -The Fairy Queen, Hazel Hoddor, sang delightfully to the rainbow children, and wee Bobby Elliott and Jean Burrows made excellent attendants. Very pretty theso small children looked standing each side of tho Queen. "Thoughtful Children" was also a very good item, Ruth Reid, as Mother, singing her lines most carefully. Eileen Maquiro and Kennedy Elliott recited their various pieces without a traco of self-consciousness, which was very pleasing. After tho prizes were presented by Dr. H. E. Gibbs, the school children made a presentation to their teachers', Miss Rene Mitchell and Mis? E, Archer. After afternoon tea tho children wero entertained. Miss Crengel was accompanist.

Oh! those wicked printers! In referring to the wedding of Prince Arthur of Connaught and the Duchess of Fife, one of tho organs of public opinion states that "In comparison with tho enormous trousers which tho Duchess of Fife will carry with her on her honeymoon, Prince Arthur's wardrobe will bo a very meagre 0110." Naturally, if the Duchess wears them, tat., unfortunately for the verities, trousers should have been trousseau.

Sir. Clement K. Shorter in a recent "Literary Letter," in the "Sphere," rather cruelly calls the author of "The Deemster," and other authors who aro joining him in the cry against the Censors of the Circulating Libraries, "Tho Boomsters"!

Chesterton's excellent study of Dickens has been added to Methncn's series of Shilling IJooks.