BOOKS AND BOOKMEN.

Evening Star, Issue 12722, 27 January 1906, Page 10

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN.

*} Putney.’ By Rich? -Marsh. London: Methuen and { Dnnedm; Whit-combe and Tombs. __AjQother duke, and one much upon t pm* hues as most of tho dukes that ■ m novels. What t>e real oni J? P JS free-and-easy trifling with the *nd therns we do not know. Probably th nem t care, perhaps they laugh at the arfcii possjWy they are too busy electioneering supermtendmg meetings of the unemploye btxli, wo would not mind staking what i putataon wo may have as an expert test of public taste by affirming that there is V(: ?’ public—eminently respoctab and highly dooiesticated-who are to behevo that a, duke m a man who liv m a castle .or palace amid thrones . servants; that he drives about m moti isira all day (it used to be fonr-in-ham and carnages with superb pairs of horses) , that Ire has numerous mistresses; that 1 is a wrecker of innocent maidens; tkit hj ancestors would never lead back to, Sv a Rlrl .. or a derti-moudo. th‘ profusely , that he wastes his estates t, 1,1, dp- that, in the background tlu aW-s the beautiful maiden, K ' a* _ comparatively low degree, wait!a is the popular idea t d id ™ °f a duke, au< • M aTI orremeous one not forget ou r Marl boroughs am .ncWers and Sutherlands when we s;p V"*' J“f e are not' typical, :ui( ! j® t he novelist’s bill; ergo, th 'rfT'Zzr * ra ® to there senous consideration T° a ! d answ ' er . ...i f , aT,d ;d l the time i® p j/ ; V :md amusement, and thai puppets are mere labeller Duke, or “Marquis,” or “Duchess.” fo! Marquis o, j. “JS* a Kl P? al Semational. Wlth bnt stn: : _ aWe '. .°f shockers we have had more 5 saffiaent. t«t a shocker written b™” author of repute and brains fc altoSher l‘Sbv l^ kC I tW - *oothoj. Ice lat-*er had repete W -Mi mxijonty of his machine-product ’ was he rrath notace. Tho wcodT wls W t t ..ine to be bougnk Mr .Marsh has imagina--i. a command of vigorous terms' a t now edge °f | share of W>x? .•ml the dramatic mstmet We do rot Tor““o , lW ° aboTtt fc*v ■or feel greatly interested in its fate, b5 tbc development of the old t.hcmeAS a man sows that shall he Mro Kap, does take hold of us until the hast F»g® w reached We feel that t A are g° and eonl and body about his tf^j and j Wi °ar ll even washing off the and milhnery that enwrap them. He has too, the courage-to avoid 1 the con. mentiona! happy ending. In real life the T* 1136 ght woman most often lL \ Th. 0r the y ““** «* the- wrong tune, and the sow and blunders of orr past cannot be and are not “ squared up” as fXiT 'tCw a . t 1 ™ 1 “«> p»‘»« snelt. The hved happy ever after ” 2? dC L tO deS fo hfcA te S ° ff ’ to "S®** ev€r 7 phase of Jfe and being an complete. We hate the tjS’-A Th Cray, r oCntiTraaU y for solu. txma , and the novehst most often ieas°wS, n°, ° m ' cks ‘ re -° r - <i w hich ne shares on Tin , wt^and nngs down lus curtain hV€ l problems, i The author who writes otherwise may not inith r ° P " ar ’ bnt he nearew the

'The improbable Idyl.’ By Dorotb uerarcl. London: Methuen and C Uunedm; Whitcombe and Tombs. Madame Do Longgarde has well nami JL boob ’ ™ght even have gone fn «£T’, and called it ‘ A Mad YentnrV or ‘ mi) _ d f Chase ; / London f mny—poor, four children, eldest a "hi ni total mComc £2OO a year" fathrS' fiVe V*** - 0f discussing tl question of emigration, and have <*ot ; far as the question Which colony? Even Ss'r? i ieto ' the e “. s aunt % description from a roaide aunt ;> decides against Canada in favor < trauma. A o one seems to know where it hj sns ‘Tp™- 8 t in ?“««f to ha in \ 9 i finally it is proclaim© to be in Austrian Poland. Trnlv a for . a P° or cockney family to search.of fortune __However, they arLn" o buy a farm of 000 acres, with a house and invest all their money with no mor knowledge of farming than Meta has (mine, a f d ™“teUigent°studot Agriculture Made Easy.’ The bihf “ *“> to I.avTfn opinton mother b decided by tho news that meat r ib; “d tbe boys by thoughts o An improbable idyl, truly 'ln ; Jew ihTT 67 2°™’ and a Polis] Jew, who has managed” the familv al along, is on the point of th jK e fM* at much less S ba^n^!i or v! 9mal l y hou S hb for-a real oaigam—-on his recommendation. Bnt m this point enters the hero. th te g vnr d dirt “ d «»sr o fs n.7 fll | age OX6 forests, and valleys and petroleum weds, and clever engines’ and one very clever engineer, on thfSst W but as the dens ex machiS And .so there is an idyl after all t£ charm of the book lies in Madame W gardes happy, instructive, and pleasantly Sim °l Ufe ’ ‘ Sere she k thoroughly at home and her narrative, in its easy faSlSv Tombs ’ Wdm: Whitoimbe- J Lieutenant Jones, of US A fwr next he remembers ho is i n Mars d TW We his lovely SS (a " eS H in£?i3? “j “.fato realms that Mara is any oSS S ihon our own earth. In spite of n •

£ ra ? e<^ r ™ Commonplace,’ By M ITron: Methuen, and" Co IHtneoin.; Whitoombe and Tombs. fbe above is a careful and intellijrent ; -!dj of a subject that will not SSTto a huge orde of readere, nor, in ih ‘-t pressmg nature, do we anticipate it will " Uroal Hterar 7 te&nL a£ Anglman clergyman, of Irish bdrtb Lamb «jme, witty, careless, laay, and bolßant mames a woman beautiM in feS“Sd ILjJoj 0 13 conscientious, and ld^ d J tmr^>01KiTO M bbe does hw duty faithfully by her W band and children, she loves them in a uay, and die reuses no objection to the annual addition which for they to *s® pepafetkm of (WbunT regards children as sods to te saved rather than flesh and blood to te ot f. a “t <rf an artist, and' fond of pretty things, but his wife regards j£ tiamly with terror, goes about the house regardless of ter appearance, loses W ftgure and complerkm years Wore she nS “*{• g«nerally, makes fife a WhS and her home a hell. The tragedy of thb lovable, unloved, and, cmlh/fjfc£? a f de^“^^i hlldKn * brie ram thsme of Mr UrquWs novel. What could K cc '^, of T E « ch a Sniffy hj» such an environmeat? Interest is chiefly fixed on the EXPEL THE POISON. Chamberlain’s Stomach and Liver Tablets wffl dear and expel every atom of poisonous natter which constipation and other irregnmnties have stored up in the bowels. They will accomplish this gently, paankssiy. and Without griping.—[Adst-]

mofcr. TW-iit.lrkS'lg 3l*S U children. Si t W 3llC£ *'P a 'hlo of responding to the hj iiui'rhter^inw 8 i UKI :rnibiti,>lls of her i t n 't'actively, Joan dislikes the • i ' Slt> if-rents (he severity of -he ei i’l'iHshmcnts meted' out to her;* she nn 1)1 term!- . d * right; she hates the ■y °; v reh f ,( | u . to "hich the mother is „ t- trios. >r>S n,S ’ eC ’ uisult '-‘d. flouted, the child » , lts , t0 hcop true to the best that is I luii, bur in vain. With the passing of’the e - ] : ef l 'tliat ! r kS i hem^f be;r 01 is hated of God a wiVlcvl a. -imit whom she. a.s a mother! mult. £ [e coem. even though site killed her in d 'h, P t r u CCSy ' , As , the cripple brother saws • ~ ill the early clays ot Chi-Lstianity Vhe >f woukln t have been a mother, she’d* have a- lten a roartyr.V The poor creature is is s on « Possessed. She l on J 9 for an Sire in order that she may let loose all her pent-up e hatreds, her .abhorrence^"S s b°-> her child s body. Naturally, such m ii °l’Po l ‘ f unity does come, and the^miserable | do '.'; M hkw - s ' upon the face and f >m of the silent -nctim until she tthc 1 l , ' xh:UlS ‘ O(L All the child siys, a f f fclie i(H> ' s ll P on heat panting mother is--1 n.UIT-'l hir ,d ° f - VOU; lam afrald °’ f , mysou , I shall go now, or 1 may kill you ” . Ve are not. quite dear-as to the mond of 1 one. bST^Vv 1 7 i ,f- PS f thore are more than i nWmncr n,', i k ° - V - 0 Passionless womeai 1 uo d !; antl bringing, as (hey invariably . no, large fannhes into the world, is nerI aps, the chief. If it he concluded from the . above that the book is not I.lrely to c l , sirete , wo *,^4^

' tho of ll ' V i U,S i 311 quict i A'mcH " vberdceu l la : d W a gcntlema; wJJ h® , by !)U and descentciations vitl d ' y ' Vei c'' S , Personal asso matrons with some of the foremost Ameri nteof t i° f letterS in the middl6 of th. m-e no L • Hi ' S reco »«ction ut ho Ln for bee ? g u lv<!n to the P«Wic re bi .oo - s ? me of the,n the other dm to the ‘British Weekly’ J As a boy the narrator had many oppor Sf • ! n the best circlcs o: scuety m bew \ork and Brooklyn. His hither s house wa® a great resort for those world''o!° r f leU f UIC leadin S Pgores in the world ot literature, art, and music, and many whose names have since become famous shared at one time or another its free and open hospitality. Of all those who came and went there was no figure more familiar and none which left a fh-T^^Tn 011 the bo - v ’ s mind than mmi, l ?K EC p r AUan . yoe - 0i that weird gtmus he has some interesting and vivid ixirsonal recollections. vife PiP'* l, was not old . v a, regular visitoi, but he was on such terms of intimacy with the family that he has been spoken of as dropping in at all times and his f hOUIS -” Fre Tmmfc as were his visits he never appeared In a condi- ; Ju Ch raKed tho faintest suspicion hi S genCe ’ even at U>e time when fus habits were most irregular. His impeemuous position was then known to Ml his fitends, but for him money had no Ustmg value. It was just the means ot getting what ho wanted at th© mere moment, and even in his direst straits ho was impulsive in his generosity. When no was in the possession of funds, the nrst needy friend who came along and said he wanted anything got all he had, men to the last cent. To tho eyes of a

re , ■ s £ v<?a Po ° presented a most attractive figure. Children are regarded as instinctively trne in their discriminaHon of character, and. judged by this j ®H dar , d ’ P £? 1S justified in one instance I x at least. Ihe testimony of his youthful mend, given after the lapse of many : d* i 7 €iirs ’ and after much experience of life r- j m varying aspects, is emphatic to a dei i Poe >’’ he said, in accents of deep i- : teelmg and admiration, “ was one of the i- ! a?cst fascinating men I have ever met, r| 1 a “Y ays wen ' t ; to him with the utmost e ! c or yhdonee, and I have most vivid recola I T ctlons ? f going and looking up into his - I f “9? and , pleading: Mr Poe, will yon | tbligo roe by reah. ng ‘Tho Raven’? Never :i f. nce Y d , n® rerasfe, and many and many a { j f. line f heanl The Raven’ declaimed' bv | its author m a manner possible to the i ( author sione. Leaning against his chair, j ' or > perhaps oftenor, sitting on his knee I 3 | vms able not only to catch the very tones : of his voice, but to note the changin'* 1 I 'ri? as reflected on bis expressive face” ! iho impression remains with me to-day. | [ , j 3 ! the most weiid experience one '■could imagine Poe had a very, melod.cus voice, wmch, when he wished,, li»ri .I a considerable amount of resonance. He j | . wou!d be ? m > and—but I can’t describe I

Jis elocution. He ’wrote the poem, and as he recited it, ho seemed to be giving to every line the shade of meaning ft had • in his own imagination when he had first conceived it.” Ha carried you along with I nn from first to last av he worked steadily towards tho climax. His voice took many a strange inflection of tone, especially at the close of each verse. “Nevermore,” os he uttered it, was a word full of deep meaning. Now it was said as if in interrogation, again in indignant anger, and yet again in a croaking whisper. At the close of the verse next to the last he shrieked the “Nevermore,” and there folowed a striking pause. Beginning the last verse, his voice got lower and lower until ah the last it was. almost inaudible.' As he uttered in a soft, weird voice the lines, | “And my soul from out that shadow that i ' lies floating on the floor ! i

uncu never JilVTOy ho seemed to be oblivions to all his sur roundings. His deep-set, dark eyes wen died on the floor, and after be conclude! the poem he sat motionless and speech loss for some minutes, gazing as with rap: vision on something unseen to others, Tho effect, more particularly as he heavet a deep-drawn sigh at the close, was in describable. Then after a time the boj at his knee would venture the request • “And now, Mr Poe, if it is not asking too much, I would like to hear ‘The Bells,’ ” and off the poet would start in a now key. He brought out all the melody of the bolls—tinkling, clanging, now joyful, then mournful, and as he came to the funeral bells his voice became a baritone. Poe professed no respect for mere social position, but the aristocracy of scholarship and intellect claimed his boTr>acc. Walt Whitman had published several of his works, and, at tho tune the informant met him. held a Government appointment in the New Yo-k Custom-house. It was characteristic of him that he always walked across to Brooklyn, and was never known then to take a bus or car. As be came sauntering along his leonine figure at once n rested attention. He walked in a careless “devil-may-care” manner but withcut any swagger—his bare breast, heavily natted with hair, fully exposed alike in

summer and winter. Most striking of all however, was the far-away look" in hfi eyes. Ho was always gazing up, nevei down, and if he had met his own brottei in the street he would never have seen him. It was certainly not a vacuous expression.. but, rather, an engaged and preoccupied one. This characteristic was likewise aparent In company. liven in the Bohemian Club, much frequented by literary men, he was never lively or jocular, hut more of a contemplative mood, and would sometimes sit for an hour without speaking. Strange as it may appear to bis readers, he was soft and mild in speech, and w “j? he acted as a volunteer nurse in the soldiers’ hospitals he was very gentle with the patients, and as kind as a woman. Me never stood on a pedestal, and was veiy reticent in speaking of his own work The author of ‘The Scarlet Letter’ did not prove an ;ittractive figure to this young man m these days. “Nathaniel Hawthorne, te declares, “had nothing to say to anybody I can remember. He was either proud or very diffident. His sou Julian was of another type altogether. ” Emerson appeared to still less advantage. “I never met Emerson but once, and lie did not impress me favorably. He could be sarcaste, and, perhaps, unpleasant, and some ot tm remarks were very caustic.” Russell Lowell, whom be met twice in America, left a more pleasant impression:. Well P^of^° r ° f BcUm hettres at Harvard, and he appeared to carry the professorial attitude into society. He was intensely academic, yet always noble and CkV n™? 3 - Of Oliver Wendell Holmes tie recollection is that of a meet genial perTWV - mefc 1 several tiimJ in : Boston and several tunes in New York. 1

and found him to be in society what cverv one would have expected of “ The Auto crat, a man ot warm humanity, ivitty hj fellow Satl ° D ' “ nd b ° VR,y ™ a capita Longfellow, with Ids flowing luoir am full beard, suggested a. strong resemblami to some of the old pictures of M os .c hj Continental cathedrals He was “yen .nnplo m },is manners, and in .society wm ireorved and srmtewhat' shy u* f g(l f us . hod anticipated'Dr Osier s‘ die 2^rw p^at forty th ° w ° iid says TP.® Weekly’) would be a much Ss C ofe r d ,°J th 6 creato f vr h ! ram would have been lost to iis. Macaulay was forty-seven before he began Jns b n ,1, ,. 1nt ‘History of England , Gibbon was almost forty when U> hed lr ],im ; !ilT7 UmC ' ntal 3TOrk - wMch occupied him till ho was turned fifty. (This is and Wiut s?*}** bis. ‘Dedme fifty i i 1 . tl ! l [ ty ' two ’ iUld finished it at iiriy—i.e., eighteen years.-—Ed. PH i ‘Ti eP w S W;l5 c fi , fty ' six w bcn ho published Iho Ware of the Jews’; Washington fvling was seventy-two when, he wfoty his Lite of Washington’; John Knox vsis before he published his ‘Hiv p U of 1 *, e Reformation iu Scotland ’ Poetry would have been robbed of its mod immortal works, for Homer is said to have -kt?^V- th l ‘ Ih ] d ’ , whe -i 1- "a® turned k' ty c f gd , Wr ° te bis Bucolics . between his forty-fourth and forty-eighth yeaS • Coleridge published ‘ ChristalJ ’ wheiTlie was forty-four; Wterdsworth wrote ‘The txcure.on’ at forty-four; Browning wrote The Ring and the Book’ at fiffyWn I Diyden was sixty-eigdit when he began, the translation of Urn yEneid; hfty-tliree when ‘ The Task ’ was Chancer wrote tR-, - Canterbuiy Tales’ when re was turned fifty: GcX, who I

WT Wh ? ‘ Wilhelm Master’ appeared, was ten. years older when he nub,laust! : Po P« wa s forty-five when tum 1 t0 - I' 3 Man’ ; Butler was D- nte w! mre '° n ' K b&gan ' ’ ; ' rbe " h j» “*»< 'ti« As may be expectecl, philosophy and wlPtertv 011 M h r e Z ltfelX ' d to °■ ypa con P wbct J T ifL wrote the ‘ Novum Ur B anum ; Isaac Newton was forty-five wben he finished his ‘Natural Bhitesophy’ • John Locke did not complete his ‘ Essay no • I PPuma ? Understanding ’ till he was fifty-eight; Cicero was fumed forty when he wrore He Officiis’; Seneca was tumid fifty when he wrote ‘De Buwficiis ■ ; iGmt ! was fifty-seven when tho ‘ Critique of Pure ; waii turned sixty tefore his Arcana Celertia’ appeared : Bmton published his ‘ Anatomy of Mtlancnoly when he was forty-five • Rousseau wrote ‘Emile’ at fifty; HiUwdt When > be A lliKhed bis great nleted ‘'Ph C p TO<X . ; "comTlfP d Prmce 34 forty-five; Sir Thomas More was seventy-three when he finished hi® ‘ Utopia.’ We should have lost Pamela, which Richardson published at y ', ODC a p d fbe fashion of th© modem E °Kr ij Pr stram Shandy, which Sterne pubks.ied at forty-sis; and ‘Robinson SS.* 11 ““ < .criticisms of a recent novel bi to tho publisher in response to his offer of a prize of £5 for ; the most original, was the following, which : was adjudged the winner t Successful scaring Socialist A chieving ambitions and aspirations > is involved in indisenminate idolatry '* Noble numskull nurses National Notion 1 ■ I hus Talented Theorist I c

; Safely subsidised secures Society’s support. j I doiised Individual intellectually intoxicared : Neglecting; “Noble Notions” navi-mtes Aewspapers. ° Simultaneously Socialist’s Spouse 0 nginally outrageous C rude Cockney ChJoris 1 s improved into inspired Idealist Entirely elegant. Thereat Turncoat Theorist Y -sely -xpires. The story tells of how a young Socialist as no forged ahead in society and wealth dead to , -Haggard wrote ‘King So’omons Mines’ m three months, durino- his spare time. He has had hhi reward than 300,0C0 oopie., have b«n sold sn.lint «hil S b, * , ‘