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Evening Star, Issue 12883, 4 August 1906, Page 9

To praise the past and to decry the present is a favorite pastime not peculiar to the present age, and is amusingly treated in a recent article by Mr Stephen Leacock in the 'Canadian Magazine.' Mr Leacock fantastically laments 'The Passing of the I'oot,' and proves his point by ,some charming parallel quotations. Here, for instance, is a sentiment as expressed by the poet Gray: Can storied urn or animated bust

Back to its mansion cad the fleeting breath; Can houor's voice invoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?

The modern expression of this sentimentMr Leacock finds in Husky, who put it thus:

Whether after the moment of death the ventricles of thi- heart can be again set in movement by the artificial stimulus of oxygen is a question to which we must impose a decided negative. Mt Frank T. Bullen, whose lectures in this colony were so successful, wrote his first story about ten -years ago. Another story ;ippeared in the : Cornhill.' Then he started to write 'The Cruise of the Cachn-

lot,' turning out 5,000 words a day. H took it to the publishers of tho 'Cornhill. Messrs Smith. Elder, and Co. On the ad

vioo of their reader, who had reported favorably, but was "afraid it was too far- j fetched," they decided to publish four \ chapters of the book as articles in the •Cornhili,* paying him £SO for them. They were successful, and then he sold them the rest of the book far another £SO. Although he had thus parted with his rights, the publishers gave him £2OO more as a present. [We take this story from a Home journal. 'The Cruis" of the Cachalot' is probably the most popular of Bullen's books.] After the report of his death was oorrcctrd Mr. "Baring-Could received an offer of £lO from a London paper for a critique on the obituary notic s. This he declined. A benevolent society suggested that he should send a contribution to their funds as a thank-offering for not being dead. A tradesman forwarded his congratulations, enclosing a patent razor which he wished to push. A number of firms pointed out to Baring-Gould the ad vantage of buying her black dresses from them. And it was a surprise to the novel ist to find how many clergymen desired to succeed him in the living he now holds. Mr Baring-Gould declined, as we have previously stated, to read any of the obituary eulogies that were sent him. Mention of his "living" reminds us of the lady who

once asked him whether he was trie Mr Baring-Gould who delivered such charming sermons or the Mr Baring-Gonid who wrote I such fascinating novels. The first notice he had that he was "dead" was from the local postmaster, who sent him a copy of a newspaper containing the " news." A shower of telegrams fell upon Mra Baring Gould, full of condolenc s. Henrik Ibsen was buried at Christiania on June 1. The weather was bad, but the streets were filled, and there wa6 a great concourse of people in the church, in the churchyard, and on the way to it. The ceremony opened with a solemn service at the Church of the Holy Trinity. The mourners included members of the Government and the Norwegian Parliament, and representatives of numerous artistic and scientific societies, home and foreign. After some psalms had been surg a funeral ora tion was delivered, to which the King, who was present, listened attentively. Finally a long procession was formed, and the reI mains of the great writer were conveved amid the dolorous strains of dirge-like music to their last resting-place in the churchyard. As the grave was filled in the band played a funeral match and the p-ople slowly dispersed. The following telegram : was_ sent to Statsminister Sigurd Ibsen, ! Christiania:— "The undersigned actors, actresses, authors, and journalists, who ( have had the privilege cither of acting in the plays of Henrik Ibsen or of working for the wider acceptance of his works in Great Britain, desire to convey to Fru I Ibsen and to Statsminister Sigiird Ibsen ( their heartfelt condolences, and at tue same time_ to pay a tribute of admiration and gratitude to the . genius whose creations ; have so grratlv enriched the spiritual life of our time.—William Archer. Oscar Asche, I Janet Achurch, Granville Barker, F. R. B-nson, Max Beerbohm, Stella Campbell, Charles Charrington. W. L. Cour'ney. Louis Calvert, James J. T. Or'jn. Fdi mnrd Gosse, C. H. Herford, Stewart D. j Headlam, Lanrpnce Irving. C. M. Lowne, J. Huntley M'Carthv, Hector Macnherson, ! Ernest Newman, Svdnev Olivier. Frederick | Pollock. F. V. Revnolds. J. M. Robertson. Elizab th Robins. Bernard Shaw, E. Fordham Spen-e, Ellen Terrv. Beerbohm Tree, J. E. Vednenne, A. R. Walkley. Tewis Wnller. Herbert Waring, Frederick Wh-lan."

Sir A. Conan T>ovle is probably the onlv author who has had a prefice eortv<jved to 1 his publisher by heliograph. When the j translation of his work on thp South Afric-in War was going to press in Christiania. the preface had not arrived from the translator, and a** sh<? lived a hundred miles off, with all rhe pasres blocked by a phenomenal snowstorm, it looked as if it nwrt be omitted. Finally. bo-weveT, short address to the Scandinavian pfople was beliographed across from snowpeik to snowpeak, and so found its way to the bonk Tbe taste for literature, as distinguished fiom the appetite for fiction, is a notable and a 6omewbat rare gift. It is remarkable in that it is incommunicable. You cannot teach literature. You can teach facts about literature, and you can. if you are wise enough, uive some enlightenment to the aspirant.—The 'Standard.' Mr H. G. Wells, who has been studying America for the purpose of a series of articles which he is writing for 'Harper's Magazine,' has made a pleasant impression on American journalists. One interviewer says:-!-" He looks the quiet, unostentatious man of genius that he is." It has been Mr Wells's first visit to America. He faid that his first impression of New York was the marvelloufi clearness of the atmosphere " You certainly have good smoke consumers, and the city regulations in the matter must b-5 well-nigh perfect. When I came up the bay on the ship and looked at the vast uneven piles of brick and masonry, I thought it resembled a place where Titan children had been playing with blocks." Mr Wells was very much struck by a pretty feature of American architecture in the suburbs—the presence on almost every house of little piazzas supported by pillars. He thinks that America is ripe for a new Dickens, who could describe in entertaining (ashion the condition of American city life. ' He said that he did not believe in Ur Osler'6 idea of the uselefcsness of men after sixty.