BOOKS AND BOOKMEN.

Evening Star, Issue 12764, 17 March 1906, Page 10

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN.

The Mother.' By Norman Duncan, London: Hotkter and Stougbton. Dunedin: New Zealand Bible, Tract, and Book Society.

Mr Duncan gained the approval and ctxmpbmeots of the reviewers by his excellent descriptive work in 'The Way of the Sea.' Here we had tho desolate splendor and mournful TonaHness of the North Atlantic, as it beats itself on the wild and sterile coaet of Labrador, described as few, if any, writers have yet described them. Readers of Bullen wil recall many a graphic and appealing page, whereon, the majesty and strength and vastness and terror o; the mysterious deep are set forth in term* that feare us thrilled with awe at thr wonder and miracle of it. Yet Bullen was amoug tho first to pay generous tribute to the new writer. There is not a fraction of literary jealousy in the compoeition of the antbor of ' The Cruise of the Cachalot.' He has known what it is to want the cheering word amd the hopeful voice, and he has not, in his own fame, forgotten the lessonrlearned in days of physical need and blank obscurity. But Mr Duncan, in his preseni book, leaves the sea for the city, and therefore invites comparison with hundreds o ! men amd wonnn who, though they could not challenge his superiority in Newfoundland, are quite as much at home as he is b:' The most obvious characteristh of 'The Mother' is its frankness of speech. Tho mother is a woman of the music-hal! stage, but of the class of music-hall th«; in Chicago is known as a "dive"—an in expressibly villainous haunt of vice and in famy. Admission is free; the' habitues pay for drinks, which are handed them In painted women, and the stage is filled wit.' brazen females and foul men. who pollut< the air with their obscenities and tine evo and ear with their shameless vulgarities '" The mother" is one of these. u-nhaprn creatures, but, more fortunate than tli rest, she had been married and had a son It is her lovo for this son that keeps hei "unconscious of evil, uneontaminated, hob by her motherhood, lifted by her love froii the touch of sin." Mr Duncan is not ven happy either in his thesis or its treatment Jne problem he presents is neither new noi quite true. Beyond the fact that "tin mother" is physically pure, she can hard I \ be described as '• uneontaminated'" ano "holy." It is more than hinted that slu had killed her husband in a fit of passion : her language was a surprise even to thcxest of " the profession" ; and there was nothing on the side of human degradation, of man as beast, left for her to learn Such as she is, however, she loves, wor ships, idolises her boy. He keep her * straight"; she even 'parts with him to the curate of the Church of the Lifted Cross because it is for his good, and that be should not know what liis mother is. So far the motive is clear and the purpose manifest; but wlven the lad learns the truth, and when "the mother" abcndosis paint, pads, and bleached liair, and when the boy leaves the Church to share "tin? mother's" room up a four-rtorey tenementhouse, we ask What then? Mr Duncan does not pay. Tie leaves his puppets and ins problem and his readerH like the last act of a comedy leaves us, which by the fall of the curiam intimates that the erring husband or wife is reconciled to his or her IKirtaer, but gives no hint of what will follow the next morning. It is these dreadful " next mornings " that play havoc with romance and drama. They are the realities of life—the avenging deity we cannot avoid. And so with 'The Mother.' That such an one may be and has been redeemed by her love for "her child we do not doubt; only we see no such roadway thereto in Mr Duncan's book. " The mother " and the boy must live—but how? This is the real crux in all such problems, and it is not solved by dropping the curtain. Mr Duncan has picked up a good deal of first-kind knowledge of freaks and their ways, his "Human Dog," "Fat Lady," and "Mexican Sword-swallower," as well as "Jnn the Acrobat," bciimg hunrorously sketched. At best, however, 'The Mother' is merely an episode, whose framework is too slight in character to give it greater endurance than similar work of its class.

'On Company's Service.' By W. Pett Ridge. London: Hoddex and Stough ton. Dunedin: New Zealand Bible, Tract, and Book Societv.

Eighteen stories of varying merit, dealins with life and service on the railway. Guards, porters, signalmen,- inspectors, and directors, their wives, sweethearts, and mothers, form the chief personages in these happily-told narratives of domestic and lficial life. Mr Pett Ridge is like, yet unlike, Mr Jacobs. He is not so broadly humorous, and perhaps not so mirth-provoking. His humor has more artificiality about It; we do not feel it irresistibly—in other words, it does not grow entirely out of the situations and persons he describes, but is due id part to the author's own comments an' asides. We notice this in 'Broadbent's Junctions,' the longest and best story ;:., the series. Here the quiet references and pleasant similes, uttered as though he a showman describing his wares, carry +lc reader along,'and give a finish to.a natatv and simple narrative of a self-made n vn. Jleither exaggeration nor over-coloring mars She even tenor of the stories, which a*f interesting for the insight they afford jrJa phase of life that has not, perhaps, been so consistently and satisfactorily exp-sited since the 'Sketches by Boz' ushersd : n the dawn of a new era.

'Mr Lion of London, and Some ATarrs of the Heart.' By J. J. Bell. London: Hodder and Stoughton. Di-nedm: New Zealand" Bible, Tract, and Book Society.

Fifteen short stories by the author of •Wee Macgregor.' We are afraid we sh-iU forfeit the respect of all right-minded critics and others when we say that we prefe» tie above to the boy in the Tarn o'Shanter and petticoats. This is not to imply that Mr Bell has given us anything extraordinary in 'Mr Lion.' He has done nothing of the kind. These fifteen stories are veff ori - nary, and never rise above, if they r.se as far as, the average short story, lir.i th*y are clean, pretty, and good. All the men are nice and all the women are beautiful, and they mostly pair off with lots of money Occasionally, as in "The Last of Her Roses,' we get a neat passage, but there is nothing either to praise or blame about one of them. The gentlemen who hailed Mr Bellas the " new star," and packed him out of Glasgow to make his fortune and become a lion in London, have not yet justified themselves before that tribunal by whose judgment both author and critic must alike abide.

Correctors of bad English—the latter being a crime of which we are all guiltv—carry their criticisms to pedantio lengths. Mr T. Logan, for example, in his recently- 1 published ' English Composition Simplified,' • has some remarkable criticisms and corrections _ and suggested improvements (?). One reviewer points out, as illustrative of Mr Logan's views: " It is a trifle that the student should be soleacly warned that 'of the indefinite pronoun u one" must not be followed by a personal pronoun.' After all, one writes more or less as he likes or as one chooses. But when we come to a 'list of sentences' we open our eyes. Many of them are as ungrammatical as you please. For instance: ? John with James are in the garden,' and 'Has the men done all the work?' and 'He is a Nero, who is another name for cruelty,' are not to be defended by the most sensitive and self-confident author. But to correct the Bible and Shakespeare and other master-*! pieces of literature scarcely less great seems a trifle venturesome even'in an iconoclastic pedagogue Mx Logan is all—and very sensibly, too—for the study of great examples. But if the Bible (the greatest literary achievement of any age or hands) and Shakespeare be polluted wells, whence, in the very name of Pater, may we draw the waters of style?" We are told that "Asa, his heart was perfect with the Lord" should be "Asa' 3 heart was perfect with the Lord"; that "Conceit in .weakest bodies strongest works" should be "Conceit in weakest bodies most strongly works "; that ." The spirits of yo ir fathers shall start from every wav2, For the deck it was their field of fame, and ocean was their grave " should ba "For the deck was their field of fame, *nd the ocean was their grave." A plague •pen this corrector of the poets! But'the

clnxox is reached when to are rravelv instructed that "What dost thou mean l.y shaking of thy head?" should read "By the shaking of thy head " (as if the unfortunate ghost of Bahquo had a species of poky); .that "Charitv. .-,. . doth not behave itselfunseemly" should iead "In an unseemly way"; and that " I will not let; thee go except thou hles3 me'' should read, unless thou bless me." Not, all the Ivevised Versicnists that ever noddled with ur&urpassable beauties of diction ever rivalled the pedantic futility of this. Why not inform us. that " and the morning and the evening were the first day" is ambiguous and unsound? (By the way, a correspondent promptly reminded tho reviewer that, it was.)

Further comment becomes rather superfluous. But it is odd to be told that "to bow and scrape" is a disgraceful colloquialism never to be used in place of "to make to," that "end in smoke" must not do duty for "have no satisfactory result." Technical terms, we hear, Yj , •* av o*fed- Amongst them are included "larboard" and "pneumonia." I his beats us. And no synonyms are suggested. We. can only suppose that sentences, should run "The vessel listed"— 71 „ g PfJdon—"leaned heavilv to tho left or "The Duchess of B— - m seriowsly ill, suffering from an inflammation of those parts of the body on which the breath oi life depends"—which seems cumbersome, if not indelicate. Foreign words and phrases "shouldnever be used when an English equivalent exists." We heartily commend such advice. But we doubt whether "guardian" quite expresses the* meaning of " chaperon," and whether "out of condition .to «ght" is not a tedious circumlocution for " hors de cornet- Mr Logan means well, but we dread t.w> results of hia doctrine. And English composition seems just as intricate as it 'id before we mastered his little volume. ■ iave we not committed a thousand indiscretions m the course of this one article 9 ■lr Logan would riddle our grammar and oiifound our judgment. The late Mr George Jacob Holyoake, beliesi his title to literary remembrance as the historian of the co-operative movement •nd the author of two books of readable reminiscences,. put forward another claim ro fame. He claimed to be the author of '.he. phrase "Jmgo" as the nickname of a political party. When the 'Daily News' noted 'Dictionary of National Bio-.-rapiiy, attributing the currency of the ■hrase to Professor Minto's use of it in print in 1879, Mr Holyoake wrote to remind tne editor that he himself had used it in a letter to the ' Dailv News' as early as March 13, 1878, and that his friend Pro-t.-ssor Minto was well aware of the fact. Sir George Trevelyan, however, used the pi.-rase in a speech to his constituents, reported in.'The Times' of January 12,1878. ■:o the proud title appears to belong to the distinguished biographer of Maeaulay. The 'Saturday Review' prophesied in 1880 that the term might become as respectable as the names of Whig and Tory. "If we. tu ,™>'' l l "to the celebrated refrain wnich has given currency to ths- word, and whicn will he remembered longer than many verses of greater lyrical value, wo can find nothing more in it than the expression of a modest firmness and reliance. It breathes defence, not defiance." The refrain referred to by the ' Saturday Review' js the four-line choriffj to a song that became very popular in England prior to the Berlin Conference. It was written and composed by a well-known music hall composer, G. W. Hunt, tlie author of innumerable songs whose eatchv aira made the fortune, or what should have been the fortune had they been careful, of many singers Macdermolt, a famous comedian and vocalist of the music hall and pantomime stage, sang this particular song, and the lines which havo been embalmed in history are as follow: We don't want to fight, but. by if we do, We've got the ships, we've got the men, we've got the money, too. We've fought the bear before, and while we're Britons true The Russians shall not enter Constantinople. Mr Thomas Hardy, known to fame as a novelist, has what one paper' calls "a poem " in the ' Spectator' inspired by the election. It is entitled ' The Ejected Member's Wife.' We quote cne verse:— We shall see her no more On that balcony, Smiling while hurt at the roar As of surging sea From our stormy, sturdy band Who have doomed her lord's cause, Though she waves her little hand As it were applause. May we ask, in all seriousness, whether this sort of thing is poetry? One of the most interesting incidents in the Home General Elections was the interest manifested by men eminent in literature. For Coventry that brilliant novelist Mr A. E. W. Ma?on stood, and was returned. A prominent and energetic helper was Mr J. M. Barrie, who gave generous assistance bo the candidature of his friend and fellow-worker in the realm of letters. Mr Barrie wag a conspicuous figure on the night of the vast meeting held in the Corn Exchange to wind up the campaign. During the polling day, in spite of the wet and cold, Mr Barrie was to be seen rushing here and there through the city on a motor car, visiting the committee rooms, looking up voters, and generously doing his utmost to secure his friend's return. He <?as also one of the Liberal representatives present in St. Mary's Hall during the counting of the votes, and one of the first to congratulate the new M.P. upon his splendid victory. Mr Mason was a candidate worthy of such an assistant; a most cultured and affable man, a speaker of great fuency and power-, everv sentence of whooe speeches was beautifully phrased and weighted with dear and' strik-.ng tlrought. The author of 'Four Feathers' took Coventry by storm with his magnetio personality.

The late Mr& Brookfield (Thackeray's dear Lady Castlewcod, according to some) .was only less witty and scarcely less cultured than her husband. She could b?, and was, refreshingly candid in criticism..' For instance, she minces no words about Mre Browning's poem in a letter to Harrv Hallam:— J

Miss Wynn lent me Miss Barrett's poetic effusions with, a strong encomium from herself. I see she has a good deal of poetry in her, but her 'Lady Geraldine's Courtship' is evidently conceived in consequence of reading Lockaley Hall, and the whole poem recalls it; though such a labored piece of forty pages was never put together, I suppose. And of Harrison Ainsworth—a writer Scott praised and who was at one time tremendously popular—she remarks, in a letter to Thackeray:—" Of all detestable writing bis is the worst, J think."

The second part of Mr Thomas Hardy's drama of the Napoleonic wars, ' The Dynasts,' will shortly be published. The first act opens with a scene in Fox's lodgings in Arlington street, and then changes successively to the road between London and F«tris, the streets of Berlin, the field of Jena, and Tilsit and the River Memen. In the subsequent scenes the action to the Pyrenees, to the open sea between the English coast and the Spanish Peninsula, to the boudoir of Josephine at St, Cloud, to Coruna, Vienna, the fields of Wagram and Talavera, Brighton, and on to 8t Petersburg, afterwards coming to the lines of Torries, Vedras, continuing to Paris and Windsor' Castle-and closing with a scene in Carlton House. The 'Persons of the Drama' include over 100 historical figures, among them being Napoleon and most of his marshals, George IH., the Prince of Wales, Mrs Fitzberbsrt, Louis XVHI., the King of Prussia, the Emperor Alexander, the Empress Josephine, Queen Hortense, Wellington, Fox, and Sheridan. Mr Herman Charles Merivale, the wellBIT OF ALL RIGHT~ "While out shooting the other day," save R. London, merchant, Maldon (Vic.), "£ Btrained the calf, of my leg so badly that I was unable to walk, and had to be assisted into my gig. On reaching home I had Chamberlain's Pain Balm rubbed in. i: certainly warmed up that part of my body, • but it did the work, and, to my great relief and pleasure, all "the coreness was gone by tht next day. and I was able to walk. Chamberlain's Pain Balm is a bit of all right, and I now speak from personal experience, as well as a storekeeper who has sold it for years " [AdvtJ

known author, recently died at Chiswick at the age of sixty-seven. He commenced bis career as a'barrister.'"but very soon turned bis attention to literature and the drama, and in both departments achieved great Bucoess. His father was Under-Secretary of State for the Colonies,. Gaol seems a good- place in which'to write books, although it-is miserable to get there for the mere sake of trying the experiment. Oscar Wilder strange book, 'De Profnndis' was written there. John Banyan wrote 'Pilgrim's Progress' in gaol. I Cervantes wrote 'Don Quixote' in prison; Defoe laid the plans for 'Robinson Crusoe' duiing a term of confinement imposed tn him for the writing of a pamphlet called ' The Shortest Way" with the Dissenters'; Leigh Hunt wrote 'Rimini' in gaol, and Sir Walter Raleigh, during his fourteen years' imprisonment in the tower of London, wrote his excellent 'History of the World.'

The latest literary mystery ig called G. B. Lancaster. This author's collection of strong, short stories of the Australian bush has already attracted much favorable comment from the critics because of the narra--tives powerful masculinity and sometime? almost brutal realism, and nearly every reviewer has had high praise for Mr Lancaster. The only drawback is that there isn't any "Mr" Lancaster—G. B. Lancaster being a woman «tnd Lancaster not being her name. She jefuses to disclose her identity, and the.literary agent who. is handling her manuscripts "says merely that "she is a woman whom ho met in the course of Sunday school work." Mr Carnegie has honored Mr Wilred Campbell, the Canadian poet, by ordering 500 copies of his verses for presentation to the numerous Carnegie libraries all over English-speaking world. This is an advertising age, and new methods are constantly being invented. Even publishers of. books and newspapers have to wake up and bestir themselves. An interesting development which has recently become prominent, is the "private letter" review of a new book, sent to a publisher m response to a more or less flattering request for his opinion. Another plan % to offer a prize for the most original review of a book in 200 lines. JVJj- Fisher Unwin has taken this course to advertise a new novel.

««ir W S B .. . read pS the .ether dav, says UK.b. m the 'Sphere,' a novel by a writer who has published manv books, "and it seemed to me that his new s'torv was full of daintiness and charm, original'in manv respects and even brilliant; yet that story had been refused by three London publisbers on the ground that it would not to a commercial success.

At the dinner of the Aldine Association given by the Society of American illustrators,, at which Mark Twain was the guest of honor, a young woman, clad in armor to repesent Joan of Arc, presented him with a laurel wreath in recognition of his admirable chronicle of the life of the Maid of Orleans. Mr Carnegie was one of the spectators at this ceremonv.