THE BOOKFELLOW.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXI, Issue 112, 13 May 1911, Page 13

THE BOOKFELLOW.

Written for The Post, by A. G. Stephen*. LAURENCE HOUSMAN. Laurence Housman's "Selected Poems," issued' in a charming form by Sidgwick and Jackson (3s 6d net) have a message for many quiet minds. The selection is made from "Mendicant Rhymes," "The Little Land," "Rue," and "Spikenard." We do not find anything to like better than this old favourite : You, the dear trouble of my days, When life shall let me cease, Turn once aside from kinder ways And look upon my peace ! Let your feet rest upon my roof, And for the love we bore, Forgive tho heart, so far aloof, You pannot trouble more. For, if the dead man had his will, I doubt not he would rise, And waste his soul in sorrow atill With looking on your eyes. So come when you have lost your power, And pardon my release : And set your feet to rest an hour, A seal upon my peace. Housman is meditative rather than lyrical ; in form and content his verses are solacing, not thrilling; his poetical emotion lingers below the lines, and disengages itself slowly. Yet he -has a fibre of virtue that abides; and his poems are a rich little gifb for finer, serious people. MEMOIRS OF A MARQUIS. The Marquis de Castellane's "Men and Things of My Time," is a book of aristocratic memories which A. T. de Mattoe has translated in an aristocratio style, and Chatto and Windus have published it in an aristocratic form (6s net). There are thirteen portraits, including those of Liszt and Victor Hugo with burning eyes, looking like Hugo. The Marquis is a grandson of the Duchesse de Dino, who was Talleyrand's niece. His mother's salon in Paris collected the notabilities of the Second Empire. He served in the FrancoPrussian war and was a member of the National Assembly. Hale at 66, he remembers the past of France and regrets the present. His book is not lengthy, and is well written. The Marquis begins with, his boyhood at the celebrated Mgr. Dupanloup"s seminary at Orleans, where from the age of seven till that of eighteen he ate for dinner and supper a diminutive slice of beef, a portion of beans, a chunk of bread, and some nuts; went unwashed all winter; got up ab five and went to bed at nine; and gained thei finest health in the world. It is true that the beef alternated with, veal and the beans with potatoes, and that once a month he was admitted to the very greab honour of taking a footbath. Among the personages of Paris whom the Marquis met when he emerged from the seminary, Thiera naturally takes the foremost place. The Marquis has not much to say about Thiers or others, but he says his trifle, prettily and with point. His vision of the war is merely a personal glimpse. He condescends to describe the conduct of Garibaldi and Hugo in the National Assembly. Garibaldi walked in with his famous red cap on_ and wrote his resignation of membership. -'Take off your cap," shouted the others. Garibaldi cried, "You pack of rustic^!" and disappeared. "After Garibaldi, Victor Hugo! He, also, had •entered the house with his National Guard*? kepi on his head. Hardly had Garibaldi gone than Victor Hugo, as though he could not endure that another tad occupied the public attention before him, leapt up the steps of the tribune at a single bound and began as follow* : "In this age of conference* and carnags ... ! ' Se could get no further: everybody was laughing. We never saw him agaiu, at either Bordeaux or Versailles. He returned to that Olympus which romanticism had built for him in the past s and he did well. He was a demi-god on Parnassus : in a political assembly lie would soon hay© become ridiculotiß. The Marquis and his relatives maintained as far as they might the tradition of the old regime, and tho Marquis seems occasionally to have burned prudent incense at the new shrines. Not so his womenfolk. At the family dinner-table he mentioned ihat he had been to call on the Orleans princes, and hi* mother-in-law, the Marquiso do Juigne, threw a roll of bread in his lace. At the smart society of the Republican era the old Faubourg stood aghast. "It was this contrast — a society in the sulks, deliberately ohrinking . back into itself in the face of a few things animated witn unsuppressible vitality — that gave rise to a set which was to preside over the funeral of the old French great world, and of which those whom we call cocodetteft were the most famous manifestation. The cocodettesl O fascinating name, which, for many a long day yet, will, summon up twenty years at least of mundane intoxication." A lady who had fallen into arrears with her tailor capped the reply which Talleyrand made to his^corn-chandler. The tradesman, insisting upon knowing when he would be paid, was rewarded by hearing these words fall from the famous diplomatist's lips: "My friend, you are very inquisitive." The aspiring cocodette; when her tailor put the same question^ said : "If you present your bill once more, I swear that you shall never receive another order from me." ■ ' The Marquis closes lamenting the vulgarisation of social life in Pans. 1900 ! The exhibition ! Cosmopolitanism triumphant! From every corner of the world a formidable avalanche came sweeping down on Paris! 'From this time forward, one sees everything there ; nigger kings, cannibals, everything, except a society. _ Universal vulgar extravagance in living has invaded the national territory. From the drawing-rooms pass to the theatres, what do you see there? \ Nudity, nudity ; nothing but naked ' women. It is the high priesta of cosmopolitanism who (for a change) have obtained for us the lack of modesty which attracts to France the scum of the world's debauchees. By displaying her to all who come to see, showing her in her most exciting, enticing, and libidinous aspect, they have turned woman into a manufactory of vice, instead of allowing her to continue what she had always been with us, a fragrant plant, whose scent helped you to go through, life by numbing the pain which life bringe with it. I see the France of the future looking like this : at the top, a calf, the calf of gold, broken down, a driveller and a dotard. Above this malevolent, though slumbering beast, a huge hornets' nest, in which venomous insects have come sweeping down from the four corners of humanity and swarm, rabidly despoiling all those who cross their path. Oh, what a sight that will be ! Talleyrand congratulated the people of the eighteenth century on having known the charm of living. 0 bel vivere ! All of that is finished ; no new France will ever set eyes on it again. PARLIAMENTARY LANGUAGE. "Language" in all its senses includPh itself in a bookfellow's domain, and it is noted that the "language"' of th« Commonwealth Parliament is improving At least, during last .se&flion, no Senator said of another that he "might have been caught in a butterfly-act".— which jva*

one of the flowers ot debate in 1909. Still, there are instances urgent enough for amendment. We see that in 1910 the President of the Senate had occasion to rule that it is not in order to characterise any Senators as ignorant Huns, or to describe approved legislation as a Shylock bargain, or to say that a member of the other House has been Liberal, Democratic, or anything. The sting, we suppose, is in the "anything." It is in order to say that it would be a contemptible act for anyone to refer to a Senator's private business, though it is not in order to 6ay that the statement of a Sanaijor jis contemptible— -which draws a fine distinction justified, it may be, by the altruistic of the hypothetical case. The Senate's Chairman of Committees ruled that it is in order for a Senator to say that Senators will not only know his vindictive character, but will understand it; and to hope that if ever a Senator should appear before a Judge he will be able to come off as well as the speaker did. But it ie not in order to accuse a Senator of twisting, which ie worse than a lie ; or to describe a Senator as a fellow or a contemptuous article ; or to remark that a Senator will nover get a clean sheet from a Judge Mr. Speaker ruled that it is in order" to refer to members as alleged representatives ; or to remark that a member told the artisans of the cities what was in his heart, but country a-udiences. something very different. But it is not in order to impute to a member improper motives, dishonest conduct, baseless and unfair statements, cowardly conduct. It is not in order to designate the absence of information as a put-up job of which the Government are ashamed ; or to state that certain methods of collecting advertisements for a newspaper edited by a member are something approximating to blackmail; or to etate that Yass-Canberra was selected by a trick— by an act of political jugglery. It is not in order to describe a member as not man enough, or as tho only mail to rob his fellow men of their votes. It is not in order to remark that a member has deliberately wasted an hour-and-a-half of public time, or to say that there is nothing straight about a Minister; and a member may not elude reproof by using vtbese or similar expressions under ODVer of the phrase "If it were Parliamentary, I would say that," etc. The Representatives' Chairman ot Committees was forced to rule that it is not in order to describe the speec3 of a member as inhuman ; or to say that a member has done nothing but act the fool, or even that a member has been fooling around. Nor ifl it in order to say that a subsidy "was a little bit of graft." Those and similar breaches of decorum are noted for our instruction by sedulous officials. It has been admitted that they are milder than formerly ; nevertheless, it / might be a good thing if a member of Parliament's name were attached to his disorderly expressions, and these were circulated for the information of his constituents. If we suggest that the circulation be made by advertisement in local papers, no doubt the country press will support üb. NEWS NOTES. J. F. Archibald, after several years out ' of harness, is again helping the Sydney Bulletin, and on 27th April "The Ancient" remarks :—: — "Flogging is a class punishment. The lash is for the man in workman's garb, and for him alone — who ever saw a silk hat and a broadcloth coat doffed at the triangles? 'Society' simply couldn't flog a 'gentleman,' no matter what he had done; if it did it would raise livid weals on the aoui of his silver-haired mother and make raspberry marks on the immortal parts of his sainted sisters. The hitherto-ruling classes have, however, little compunction in vicariously flogging Mrs. Smith, the vulgar washerwoman, through the back, of her blackguard son." If Archie has said that once, he has said it fifty times; it's copyrighted and hall-marked. One of the veteran journalist's useful wrinkles for young writers is "Never let a good thing go." In the first issue of the Bulletin, 31st January, 1880, he told how he had interviewed "Nosey Bob," the N.S.W. hangman, and how "Nosey" was an enthusiastic gardener who offered him "a nice little bokay of flowers." At intervals ever since Bulletin readers have chuckled grimly over the paradox of pure white calla lilies sprouting from a bloodstained' scaffold ; and it is safe to wager that after thirty years the old yarn isn't dead yet. Eobert Castleton's "Adventures of an Actor" (Methuen ; 2s 6d) describe realistically the life on and off around the English stage of to-day. The author is sensible, the matter is interesting; his stylo clear and pointed ; and, ergo, his book is readable and profitable. He says "Women are as curious as hens— -all ot them." He saya: "Before you adopt the theatrical calling, be quite euro, not that the profession is good enough for you, but that you are good enough for it." Then spend three years at stagecraft, and you and the managers will be able to decide if it's worth while spending any longer. He. says a man who wants to succeed in the dramatic profession should not be a camel — that is, he should not be obstinate, ho should jiofc be sulky, and he should not be addicted to the "hump." Also he tells us of a Great Antipodean actor who couldn't act — and, by the way, eh? that wasn't yon? Castleton's is a workaday book, and he has no stage story as true as the backblocks actor's story of hitting Dubbo with an all-star travelling company, going to sleep four ir a room, dog-tired, an* 1 being wakened at midnight by the landlord's lantern in his eyes: "Yez'd better pay me the schilling now, byes, in case yez'll be gone in the marnin'." For the matter of that, Castleton has no stage story as good as Alf. Dampier's story of playing "Robbery Under Arms" at Melbourne when a backcloth and a pile of scenery camo down with a crash, | exposing the bare, brick walk behind. For a moment "Starlight" gazed at the ruin ; then he yelled : ' 'Aha ! What did I foretell? The landslip — the landslip ! Run for your lives !" &nd he beaded the retreat aa the curtain fell. Castleton's dramatic agent is perhaps unusual. He counsels the aspirant: "In this profession, as in every other, a lot of people will try to obtain money from you on all sorts of pretexts—some of thorn extremely plausible; but if you take my advice, you'll keep your cash in your pocket until you are forced to part witn it, and even then don't do so if you can help it." At that moment our conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Buttons, who seemed to be slightly agitated. "If you please, sit," he exclaimed, "there's a man called about the electric light account, a-nd he won't go away." Mr. Garton remained quite unruffled. Smiling, he turned to me. " There you are, my friend. Here's 1 a greedy rascal sent by a. mercenary trading company to demand our money, and wo want to keep it. He has the ' genius horae.' He aa-rivca at the exact psychologies!! moment to illustrate my remarks. Call again in three days, Mr. Harvey." Mr. Gorton shook hands with me warmly, as I backed into the corridor, and then, still smiling, ho turned to the boy. " Show the electric blackguard in here," he murmured' in .tones of mellow suavity. ' These serious' 'remarks about chorus girls apply, of course, to England : T do not wish for a moment by anything 1 ha.vo written to cast the slightest reflection <hi chorus girls, cither indi-

vidually or in a- class ; but I do want to make it quite clear that in the "profession" they are not considered "actresses." In speaking of a musical show, one refers to it as "The Kicking Girl Company and Chorus," and there is a hard and fast distinction between the members of the company and the members of the chorus of that company. Cborus girls are, as a rule, respectable and extremely deseiving young women, but an actor would no more be seen publicly consorting with the average chorus girl than he wonld be seen gadding about with the housemaid. "Adventures of an Actor" ia the most amusing book this week. "Lecky's History of European Morals " unabridged, is republished by Watts and Co., London, in a. single volume, well printed, for Is net. Like the same author's "History of Rationalism," now also sold for Is, this is one of the books that should be digested by every intelligent youth before the age of twenty. Though its epoch is only from Augustus to Charlemagne, the survey collects from a vast range of reading a little world of facts, narratives, and opinions. It ie real history im (that it depicts well human beliefs, customs, and superstitions in historical times ; it is living history because, on the side of human instinct and passion, the chain of heredity persists, and we trace the roots of many a dogma, many a habit, that flourish in our own day. .And it is efficient history because^ in story and commentary it is interesting, and for the greater part, well^ based, though the general or the special view of* some of Lecky's examples would now be different; and his touch of sentimental rhetoric, as in the famous passage describing the prostitute as "the eternal priestess, blasted for the ems of the people," might now give place to a cooler style. Here and elsewhere Lecky seems to apologise for reference to the uncomfortable symptoms that social pathology irecords; and in that aspect, perhaps, tho later attitude of scientific curiosity directed to a scientific cure if rationally better based. Still, Lecky's revolt c-f horror from unpleasant facts does him credit and enforces his moral. For "The History of European Morals" is a book with an urgent moral which did not cease with Charlemagne. Dattilo Rubbo, the vivacious Italian painter who made fierce remarks recently about amateur art at Bathurst, has some good stories about the hard lnck of Ms early Australian days, when he was learning the hard Australian language. "Ah, you do not know what trouble I have when I come to Australia. I speak no word of English. Make things very hard. The first week I go into a hotel for a drink. I point to the beer, and the man say 'Beer?' I say 'Si ! Si !' He take a long glasp — long — and fill it — swish, swish ! I say, ''Basta ! Basta!' which means in English 'Enough! Enough!' 'Eh?' say the man. 'What you say?' I say 'Basta!' again. He run round the bar with his fists vp — this way — and say: 'Do you want to fight? What do you call me those names for?' I not call him any names; I do not know what he mean. Just then another Italian come in, and he explain. Then the man laugh, and say, 'Oh, I see. It is a joke. Take your beer for nothing.' " In "Thorpe's Way fi (G. Bell; 2s 6d) Morley Robert writes an Edgar-Jepson romance with his own modern ethic superadded. The title-page calls it "a joyous book," and. -so it is, despite Morley's rather heavy band, which in one aspect is a help and in anpther a hindrance. Still, Thorpe *is not to be mi&sed on any Australian account; and, though he may unsettle New Zealand somewhat, New Zealand will be none the worse. The author's Tinconventionality is honest; and Thorpe, his exponent, certainly has a way with him. As hero, he proposes marriage to the heroine at a dinner almost 'as soon as he sets eyes ou her, and she deserves the proposal. Thorpe and Roberts say rude things between them. • "The English know from personal experience that the only time they are personally brilliant is when they are partly drunk, and thus if they meet a man who is always more or less witty, they attribute his disturbing qualities to alcohol." "From their feet to their necks women are fairly civilised, and still progress, though with awful setbacks, but on their heads savagery still sits triumphantly. Through maternity and the milliner they keep secure hold on primitive nature." The heroine's naughty grandmother deserves a book to herself. "Don't be so> sad, Grannyducky," said Molly. "I'm sure a nice lot of young men loved you when you were young." But Grannyducky shook her head dolorously. "I know they did, my pet," she said; "but what makes me sad is that I didn't love enough of 'em. To think that I made six nice young men cad, that's now dead and done for, is a great grief to me." Altogether we have had a lot of entertainment 'and two dozen chuckles, which is quite enough for half-a-crown.