NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVI, Issue 122, 21 November 1908, Page 13

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

HALL CAINE'S NEW BOOK. •*' My Story." By Hall Caiue. London: William Heinomann. Considerable interest has been aroused by the advance notices of Mr, Hall Caine's book of reminiscences — an interest chiefly of a personal kind, as it ,was understood that it was to deal much with some! of his prominent literary contemporaries, Dante Rossetti in particular. Such is in fact the case, as out of £our hundred pages nearly half are devoted to the painter poet with whose life the author was for a time so closely and : . intimately associated. If any anticipated startling or indiscreet disclosures they will be disappointed. Mystery hangs over the great tragedy of the poet's life, and scandal has boen cruelly ousy with tongue and pen; but Mr. Hall Came is loyal tc his old friend. His chief desire is, apparently, to vindicate the memory of a man of rare genius from false aspersions; he holds that there is little or nothing to conceal, and the light that he throws upon the episode is such as to place Rossetti in a much more favourable aspect than many have regarded him. How delicate his task is may be inferred from the fact that he was preeent at the end, and heard the dying man's self-reproachings. He mentions this only because he is able to testify that these words— and such should never be taken too literally — were such as indicated a morbidly sensitive conscience, and unrestrained aa they were, gave no colour whatever to ths dark suspicions and assertions that have been entertained and made Mr. Came probably knew Rossetti more intimately than any other man living ; ha has formed a great — we can not say an exaggerated— estimate of his genius, an estimate which is shared by many competent critics, and it is pleasant to find that he has a no less high opinion of bis character. Every one who knows aught of the poet knows that he gave way to melancholy, and his wife died in circumstances suggestive of suicide, and that during his later years he was himself a victim to chloral. Mr. Came attributes the poet's domestic unhappiuess to his characteristic mistaken conscientiousness. Shortly before his marriage he found himself deeply enamoured of another woman, but instead of breaking his engagement, deemed himself in honour bound to fulfil it, and 1 his wife's womanly instdnc^ divined the truth too late. / We have so far passed over the first section of the book, the seventy pages in which the author gives his own early history and recalls the scenes of his childhood in the Isle of Man, a section which will have a special interest to Manx folk and to the much wider circle .who have come under the spell of his Manx novels and dramas. As a true and finely-realised picture of life among a primitive folk ; as a picture of an interesting childhood — in short, to use a modern * phrase, as a "human document," a special interest attaches to this portion of the book — interest both literary and personal, and devoid of the painlul element which i» so prominent in the later portions. Next to the recollections of Rossetti in interest are those of the gifted and erratic Robert Buchanan. The two names were inseparably associated after the publication of the famous "Thomas Maituand" article in the Contemporary on "Tho Fleshly School of Poetry, 1 ' m which Rossetti was included among the •writers assailed. Mr. Came admits that tho protest was timely and much-need-ed. Something of the kind is no less needed now, but there are few who can wield 1 the lash as Buchanan could. la ids championship of his friend, we think that our author does not do justice to Buchanan ; but later on. he is lair enough to give Buchanan's own words of vindication. The Scotsman 'had made such, reparation as he cculd in the beautiful verses prefixed to "God and the Alan," by way of dedication— dines which, we are told, moved Rossetti deeply j but after the poet's death Buchanan wrote frankly and at considerable length a letter which wo find here — rightly, w« think — placed on record. He wrote: "While admitting freely Jthat my article was unjust to Rossetti'e claims as a. poet, I have ever held, and still hold, that it contained nothing to warrant the manner in, which it was received by the poet and his circle. At the time it was -written the newspapers were full of panegyric ; tarine wa,s a mere drop of gall in am ocean of eau sucree. That it could have had on any man the effect you describe, I can scarcely believe. . . Well, my was received in a way which, turned irritation into wrath, wrath into •violence ; and 1 then, ensued the paper iWar which lasted for years. . . I was unjust, as I havis said ; most unjutt .when I impugned the purity and misconceived the passion of writings, too hurriedly read and reviewed 'currente callamo'; but I was at least honest and fearless, and wrote with no personal malignity. . . But when all is said, there still remains the pity that our quarrel should ever have oeen. Oui JibfcZe lives are too short for such and•nosities. Your friend ia at peace with God — that God who will justify and cherish him, who has dried his tears, ,and who will turn the shadow of his life-dream into full sunshine. My only regret now is that we did not mcct — that I did not take him by thfe hand ; but I am old-fashioned enough to believe that this world is only a prelude, and that our meeting may take place — even yet." We quote this at so much length because it shows Buchanan in a somewhat unusual light. He is one of the outstanding figures of his century ; all readers know something of his genius and also , of his literary truculencc — "contention," one of his critics (and admirers) said was "the breath of his life" — few know his best side, that tenderness and sympathy which was very real, and which gives such charm to much of his verse. Wo could wish that Mr. Came had known him longer and better, but these reminiscences are of the days when the shadows were falling, when, amid his disappointments and loneliness — but one faithtul friend left — the poet seemed to be losing hope and faith, and gave forth utterances of rebellion and defiance lacking the old fire. He described himself as of " thick epidermis." He had need; for never was man more fiercely assailed. JSven in the days of Queen Anne it would not be easy %o find so virulently unjust and uncalled for an attack as that of Yates in the World — the horror occasioned by which is not yet forgotten. Then Buchanan's generosity led him to champion the sorriest of heroes — tho coldblooded Parnell, for example, upon whom ' he wrote an extravagant panegyric, and, towards the last, he turned f urionsly on Kipling, whose " Cleared " had deoply offended him. " The Ishmael of literature, with his hand against every man and every man's hand against him. . . . Down to the last," our author says, "Ishmael was crying in the desert, but He waa not unheeded there, and when the end came everything was well." The man and his detractors aie gone, but he has left work that is not likely to die. Others dealt with at more or less length are John Ruskin, R. D. Blackmore, and Wilkie Collins, and the author tells us that Collins and Bulwer Lytton both drank incredible quantities of laudanum. He is concerned quite as much with the literary influence of these men upon him as with themselves. One *)f his indiscretions is his dark reference o the distressing Ruskin-Millais epiftade. He throws no new light upon it —

and surety no new light fa asked for. The later part of his book relates to his more recent literary life, in which as,sured success has succeeded early struggles; to his travels (he writes his preface from the Sudan), and to the Americans and their characteristics. "My Story " may not enhance Mr. Hail Caine's reputation, but it is interesting throughout; it is not inordinately egotistic; and it will certainly be widely read, as it deserves to be. " New Zealand : Painted by F. and W. Wright; described by Hon. William Pember Reeves, High Commissioner for New Zealand." London : Adam and Charles Black. Some interest has been caused by the preliminary, announcement that Messrs. A. and C. Black were about to add to their well-known series of "Beautiful Books," some of which have already been noted in this column 1 , a work on New Zealand by the Hon. W. P. Reeves. These volumes are published at £1 each, and the series, including some forty or fifty works, has become very popular, largely on account of the numerous exquisite coloured 'plates with which the j volumes are illustrated and adorned, i The latest addition to the series, "New Zealand," has just reached us, too late for detailed notice this week. But we have looked through the exceedingly beautiful plates after paintings by Messrs F. and W. Wright^ and can say that they give a remarkably vivid and lifelike presentment of tho characteristic scenery of the' islands, while the illustrations of Maori life are equally true. The book will bear comparison with any of the series, and forms a suitable companion to its predecessor, "The Savage South Seas." Our review will appear later. •'NEW ZEALAND." Messrs. Whitcombe and Tombs have added four more booklets to their pretty sixpenny Christmas series. This /ear they are all uniform in size and style, and all by writers so well known as to need neither introduction or recommendation. They are respectively : " From the Maori Sea" (a collection of little ballads and poems) by Jessio Mackay; "Maori Fairy Tales," by Johannes C. Andersen; "Antarctica,"' by C. Reginald Ford, F.R.G.S. ; and "The Romance of the Moa," by James Drummond, F.L.S., F.Z.S. All are appropriately illustrated, and admirably printed.