LITERARY COLUMN.

Evening Post, Volume LXXIII, Issue 153, 29 June 1907, Page 13

LITERARY COLUMN.

NEW BOOKS AND NEW EDITIONS. "Paul Jerome.'" A uovel. By Mis. Mary Koch. "The Prico of Silence* By Mrs. Edith Bagot Harte, author of "A Daring Spirit," etc. "Tho Balance." By Gordon Cuminp; Whadcoat, author of "Itosamond'e Morality' 1 and "His Lordship's Whim." "Tho Triumphs of Love." By Mrs. Chan Tdon. author of "A Marriage in Burma." "The Outer Darkness." By R. H. Wright, author of "A Plain Man's Tale," etc. ™* These five volumes, which came to us through Messrs. Gordon and Gotch, have this much in common — that they are published by Messrs. Greening and Co., London. Mrs. Jerome's book, though the opening is a little unpromising, develops interest and power as it proceeds, and sustains that interest to a strong close. This is the revorse of a very common experience, where a writer, making a good beginning, seems to weary as the work proceeds, and finishes with a kind of collapse. The characters are well defined and consistently developed; the tragedy of the book is inevitable under the circumstances, and is depicted with duo restraint. The central figures ara Paul Jerome, a curate whose views are as narrow as they are high, who combines an almost morbid conscientiousness with a vanity and selfishness of which he is all unconscious until his hopes and ambitions have crumbled to dust. In contrast, we have a fellow-clergyman, Walter Lewis, more spiritually minded, and who has more humanity than his colleague and a wide tolerance. Tho lives of two sisters — opposites again are interwoven with th?se two. Madeline is a "witch," a selfish and ambitious beauty, with more than a touch of insanity; Ethel, her plain sister, who loves Mr. Lowis in secret, is in all respects a contrast. Madeline, having fascinated Mr. Lowis, treats him with humiliating scorn, and tries her wiles on Jerome, impelled thereto by the knowledge that he is solemnly vowed to celibacy. Ho succumbs an tho end ; they are married and settled in a lonely parish on the Lincolnshire coast They are absolutely incompatible, and disillusion comes quickly. Jerome broods morbidly over what he considers his deadly sin ; lus wife resents his coldness, and realise that sho never had any affection for him, and when her sister marrios Mr. Lewis she is beset with jealous pangs, knowing that she had some real affection for him. Jerome fmds somo comfort in his little daughter, but she is not bsautiful, and the more the father lavishes his aiTcclion on his child, the mere obnoxious is sho to her mother. Jerome, moreover, is conscious of failuro in his work. His stern ways are repugnant to his people, and whon they desert him for the Methodist preacher, ho denounces them as damnable schismatics. Moreover, ho is mtrbidly and unreasonably jealous of his wife. When tha treacherous tide on Iho sands has robbed him at once of wife mid child and left him free of all human ties, he abandons tha sphere for which lie now finds ho has no real vocation, and oseks his pl.aco in tho busy life of the world. Mrs. Haitc is a writer of popular "shockers," and "Tho Prico of Silence" is a melodrama of tho most thrilling type— if only the rcaflpc can bo, induced to accept tho situation. In tho language of the old game of "consequences," the lovely Hilda weds the wealthy Sir Geo.go Ellingham, and the worthy Guy Erskino is left lamenting. Guy comes in contact with tho pair at a ball, Lady Hilda being then the happy mother of a con and heir, and simply adoring her husband. Sir George, returning through tho shrubbery after the ball is beset by a woman. Ho recognises his lawful wife, a woman of humblo birth, who had concealed herself so offectually that ho had thought her dead. Ho finds, to his horror, that she has a, son, of weak intellect. He tries to purchase! her silence ; but she is in the last stage of consumption, and demands that her position as Lady Ellingham bo recognised, and ulso the hcirship of her boy. In desperation at tho thought of the deceived wife at home, Sir George stabs her to the heart with a penknife (which ho drops on the path), drags her to a pit, thrown tho body in, and aftorwards acts the part of Bobin Redbreast in tho Babes in the Wood. Ho is long overdue at home, but daro not faco Hilda with hands and clothes bcsmenred with blood. So far tho story is credible onough. Suddenly appears on the scono Guy Erskine, who haa been close at hand, and ha 3 scon the whole business! Does he threaten or blackmail tho murderer f Ho is far too chivalrous. Ho won't shako hands with him, it is true, but "for Hilda's sako" he takes him to his own home, where Sir George performs tho necessary ablutions, obtains a change of clothing and goes homo, whcio ho explains that his delay was owing to coming into collision with a treo in tho plantation, whore ho was stunned. Guy — accessory both before and after — I buim tho incriminating garments in his study, and his servant finds buttons and half-consumod rags in tho tiro place. The body is found, the dnotardly murderer is sought, and Guy ,'s foreman of the jury which attributes the .crime to a person unknown. He is ghastly pale at the thought ot his perjury, and io seen to have suffered somo chock. lie generously assumes chargo of tho orphaned idiot boy. His brother comes to him with important evidence — he has picked up a bloodstained penknife in the plantation, and is about to hand it to tho police. Guy angrily, throws it into tho fire. Honors! it bore the initials "G.E."! Guy refuses all explanation, and now his favourite brothoi won't shake hands with him. But the "price of silence" is not yet paid-. A London detective has been at work, and Sir George (now ill in bed) is chaigod with the cvime, and placed under surveiljanco in his homo. Hilda, who knows now that Guy and George arc keeping somo gocret, and is still unsuspicious of her husband, though his manner has changed, implores Guy to help her. He undertakes to do so, and gives himself up for the murder, to the unmitigated disgust of the dotcctive, who knows better, and finds himself tho subject of so much ridicule and obloquy that ho resigns. No need to follow the story further. To loose such a knot would bo too much for human ingenuity. Tho author adopts Iho Alcxandijnc method, and "tho price of silence," heavy as it is, has after ull been paid in vain. Mr. Whadcoat has wjitten uhendy two successful novels, . and "The Balance" is a bright and original story, marked throughout by good perception of character and it due seiife of proportion. Tho title is suggested by it theory of one of the cknructcrs Unit the lot of ull men is ofual, every (Usability or misfortune being compensated for by a contervailing aii vantage, and vic'o versa. The pjinctUiil illustration is that of a blind girl, a vciy attractive clmrdctor, whoso remaining faculties are to efficient and whoso nnjoyment of life is so keen that she pities those who Im've tho sciieo of right. ' Tho author displays un ituight into Ilia wave of the blind comparable

to that shown by a novelist of a very different ctamp, Mr. Ranger Gull — baecd in both enses, appaicntly. on opportunities of ncr&onal observation. In the ster.o whoie a young man tecuies the gratitude and affection of <i young lady by delivering her from a fiiiious bull, the author has made use of v very old and familiar '"ctage property." But his charactciisatious aie good — notably the dishonest and nf.istcrful financier, with whom one of tho hcioines makes a most unhappy mariiage; and the twin aunts of Yvonne, the blind girl — the Misses Agatha and M;irlha Medcalf , « ith their odd and old-fashioned ways aud their kind hdaits> — are a delightful pair. The other two books are hopelessly bad. Mis. Chan Toon has already published a giuesome Gtory of life in Burma, and &ome of the smaller sketches in the ' present collection of twelve, aie of a like character. The leading story, which occupies about a hundred aud twenty pages, has for its leading figure an adulteress, sordid, mercenary, and heaitless, with almost superhuman beauty and erudition, and with so lofty an intellect that she marvels at the superstition of dome really great minds who submit to be guided by the precepts of religion and morality. This device of attempting _to ditguise the foulest ems by associating them with all that is desirable to the eye and attractive to the aesthetic sense is one of the infalliblo marks of a noxious book, and publishfts who accept and circulate such corrupt fiction incur a grave responsibility. The book has no literary distinction, its English is bad, and its; general construction slovenly. The author has been careless enough to give her chief figure two names, which she intoichanges in a manner that is perplexing. One point may be remarked — in the sumptuous recep-tion-room of this lady, whose flagrant wickedness compelled tho reluctant admiration qf fashionable society, "the atmosphere (was) heated to 40 Reaumur." This is more precise than intelligible to the ordinary English reader, who commonly reckons by another standard. As this temperaturo precisely equals 122 Fahrenheit, one can only infer that the guests must have felt the "atmosphere" a little warm, and have been disposed to keep as far as convenient from tho fire of pine cones, which blazed cheerfully in the grate. Mr. Wright's book, alto, is one over which no one •w ho appreciates good literary work is likely to waste any time. The imaginative lictionist who seeks to raise the veil of the Hereafter and depict sccnos of judgment is on dangerous ground ; ho requires no small mcasuro of cphitual vision, and should have iomo well-defined purpose of edification. When Elizabeth Stuart Phelps set the whole world discussing her "Gates Ajar " — no one suspecting tho writer to be a girl of sixteen — her work, notwithstanding its' crudity, was reveient, and its main thesis is ono that, meets with increasing acceptance. But Mr. Wright is one of the class who blindly lush in "whero angels fear to tread." For any eoiiou& intention, he might have been eDgaged in a new "Baron Munchausen. H Without ceremony the reader is brought before tuo "Cheat White ' Throne," and the scene of judgment is Ufcs impressive than the proceedings in an ordinary police court. Tho work of judgment in done on purely mechanical line 3by sul<ordiuates. who tako no account*, of qua lily of life or character, and the condemned are bundled off to their doom. As an example of the gross materialism of the book, it ma" be notod that the scene takes place in a nlanet in our own system, to which the dep'irtod is carried in a material body,' the replica of that which he leaver in tho grave, cubjeot to indentical lisnitSitioiU of time and fpaco, to physical accident, and t6 death. Tho infurnal regions are controlled by a Khe-fiend, a blcr.d. of CirCO and "Slie, 1 ' omnipotent r.nd omniscient in her own domain So long rs her subjects do not displeaso her, they enjoy themselves to their heart's content in the indulgence of their doiircj; but for the slightest offonce the" are tortured to death or consigned to porpatual misery immured in the most ltnthgoma hells. Hero agrin, thoie 13 no co-ordinatipn bctwoen offence and ppnajty, all being at tho absolute caprice of the Queen of Evil. The book strikes us as- n mere "pot-boiler," eoaiothing to meet the desire of jaded readers for a uew sensation- But it U dull and lifo!ets, appealing neither to the intellect nor the imagination. Ita lurid horrors may commend it to depraved taste 3; but' it has no value, literary or otherwise. Tho Pal) Mall Magazine for June opens with an appreciation of John S. Sargent, R.A., the great portrait painter, oy Cecil Shard, with portraits und examples of his work. "Tho Makers of Books" is concerned this month with the firm of tho Blackwoods and "Mnga," with much gossip on tho literary giants of tho past associated with tho house Mr. Bailey continues "Tho God of Clay," and Mr. Dion Calthrop discourses profitably and entertainingly on "Tho Making of a Picture." Mr. Harry Thomas describes and illustrates beautiful "Mountain Flowers," and under the head of "Bullion," Charles Nice explains "How the Bank of England handles its gold." Theso aro but a few of many interesting and useful articles. "Memory and Success" is tho title of a littlo book by Christopher Louis Pelman, published by the Pelman School of Momory, London. According to tho inventor, tho system in ono of developing the natural memory without tho aid of artificial mnemonics, which arc condemned as calling the imaginative faculty into play in an irrational manner, thereby causing confusion of thought. Tho book contains many testimonials to tho success of th« system. "Tho Irish Nationalist Ideal" (London : 36, Southampton-street, Strand), is "an attempt to answer tho questions : Ib a Parliament in Ireland advisa,blo? and Ie Devolution advisable? — to both ! of which the author ("Devonia") replies in tho negative. Ho quotes seditious articles and incitements to viojonce by journalists, priests, and Home Hulo pollticianc -, and by oxtracts from the Freeman's Journal and Irish-American newspspors supports his statement that in tho United States Mr. Redmond was in closo touch with O'Donovan Roesa, John Finerty, Michael Ryan, and other ex tremists, tome of whoso utterances aro unquotable Tho author's views pf the results of" Homo Rule by instalments or otherwise aro pc66imietit. At proBont, he says, thero is a measure of Parliamentary control of expenditure and administration ; under devolution, ho maintains, there would bo no chock on jobbery, while tho complete exclusion of Protestants, who constitute a third of the population, from all administrative positions which characierisen Home Rule districts would become general. A.E.T. — "Spoonfuls" is correct. A "spoonful" is tho l.amo of a measure, and is treated the namo as "oilnco" or ""pound." Tho question continually turns up in chemists magazines, aud the querist is sometimes reminded that tho patient has not 1 to swallow the spoons. Allied forms like "cupful," "spadeful," follow tho same rule. It is recorded in Genesis that "the earth brought, forth by handfuls." Thero is no question umong gramnmrjaus on the subject. Long cinec Maor.ulay's time (says the Treasury) the heioes aud heroines of fiction' havo ccasod to fall like ninepins. Tho dcathjiko swoon is popular no more. But havo you noticed that heroines have ccaood also to blush? Not so many yctiri ago they blushed like anything.