BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

Evening Star, Issue 14535, 10 December 1910, Page 9

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

Hn Wiggs of the Cabbage _ Patch,' by ilico Jlegan Rico; 'Follow the Gleam,' bv *w>ph Hocking; IWs its Exile,' bv John Oxcnham. London : Hoddcr and Stoug-hton. l>«n«hn : I>. J. Stark and O. Tho abavo aro three of those cheap and admirable editions of popular storK* bv well-known writers which, more than anything else, havo given rise to niigry words from authors and protests from publishers. If novels of repute, bound in cloth-and-gold covers, can lie purchased for a shilling, or in pamper covers for stance, why should peoplo pav six shillings trie answer from tho authors* standpoint i? that it docs not par them to write at there gellini; prices. With this tho Toader is not great] v. concerned, lie has more than one answer thereto, tho chief being that tew of the hundreds of novels that are written aro worth more than a shilling. r<i'[ would manv complain if the majority ot fiction-nianufacturens were to turn their time and attention to other things. Ihe business is overdone, quantitatively and qualitatively. However, nothing that can: be siid at this end of the world will have any effort on the policy of the publishing hmiws or upon Ilia morals of the bookwrite.*. U is oms to buy and read and grumble. At the same time, why one novel is " rushed " more than any other is. »e----times. bard to tell. Take ' Mrs W.ggs, tor example, lis silo ha* nm into 600.CC0 copies, and tho end. apparently is not yet. Wo havo seen it in dramatised form tho plav beinc the rcstdt of an amalgamation of''Mrs Wiggs' and 'Lovr-y Mary ) and, we luvo read it as a story. For ourse ves ; w» th'nk GVre is more in tho play thai, there is in tho book. The latter is a h-idcal American storr that h,w been told in one form and another more than a score nf times. It has a few touches- of pathos and humor, tho usual padding of tho good voun.' man and "the hoofer," or Christmas, hidvrand—nothing more. When you have lan'-b-d thi-e .»• tour times, ami havo u»l the catch in the thtoat that comes over Jims stm-l" for life, and noted one or two apt home-made aphorisms of the fenvle Mark Tardov order. ;«u have rear. iin-l what'there is in 'Mrs WijW*. "V, one could from its. perusal predict a , <t „. 1 . ! ., r -; ( i l . ~,](•.. There is next to not nine in it : and there is even less in Mr:; 1! y s ether books. 'Sandy" and 'Mr Opi's. 1»->t th* fact remains, as a soiling book Mr? Wig/s' is an easy first. Of Mr Hocking nothing fresh can he Mil. Ho turns out his new novel with tho sumo T-mlaritv and earnestness wherewith he mounts the pulpit. He is readable, biased, interesting in parts, and improbable. No heroes and he-dues act and talk quite I'ko his d" and few widelv-ivad books bear so iiv-uv- traces of ha.-to. artificiality, and carStill, wo tret some history and some'thought on modern-day problems; for. whether his hero live in tho days of '•■ Bloody Marr" or of our own Father Tarchan. th n v talk in much the same way. Kin- Charles's He.id is alwavs there, "lest double moaning l.iclmd Falkland, son of ;i Royalist Cornish irontleman, follows tho irh-am of his own con.-cience, and it leads him to inv Loid and Oliver Cromwell's camn--. and into arms against his own f.th-r Ho also follows the lantern light of his ladv-love. and this leads him from prison to freedom. We eannot now Teca 1 a hero, save Ainsworth's Jack Sheppard, •who was quite such an adept at prison-h-akim* as Richard Falkland. Tho time is the time of the Great Rebellion, and wo nr» in closo touch (in patches) with Charles 1.. ATt-bbishop I-aud. tho Earl o! Strafford, and Oliver Cromwell, while tho battles of Marston Moor and N'aseby tire described at stirring ler.eth. 'Mr Ox»nhmn. though not <n well known, is perhaps a better story-teller and master of a. plea.=anter style than either of the above. His present talc of I'ut'sia and Sd'-ria is an excellent on-\ and holds tho T"a;!eiV. att-aition to the close.

'Tho. N'avv Lrx,'u« Annual, 1910-11.' ELit.-d'by Alan Tf. Bumoync, M.P. London : John Murray.

The publishers havo sent us an advance ~-py of this widelv-read publication. It i = 'liv ; ded into ihio'e parts, and has many ilhi (rations and plan.;. The first deals M'iii the navies ~E tho world, showing i'.ei- progress, cost, form, and relative strength. " The information has been "atbered from the most recent State official documents, and may be aceepted as ahsohaelv reliable. Tie- K-co.id part wd appeal more particularly to the general r.-ador, as here are given prpcrs by evi.e'r's o,i matters of moment. These iuHurio 'The Capital Ship' (by "Ipiotus"), 'Sea Tra.ufm_'' iGeoffrey D>-age). 'The Defence Factor in Sea- Power" (A. W. Metcalfe), "Tho Command of tho Sea' (" Meia liicomita"'), ' Mamiiiu- tho Navy' (Admiral Sir S. Eardiey-Wiimot), 'Great Britain and th" Smaller Powers' (Gerald Eieunco'). ' Sid.li.-'iis oa Gorman Naval Polii'v' ill. C. i'.\\'. a!"N. 'The MercantileMariiu and l.n;';.":al Defence' (Com. Coins Crutchley). 'Tee. Development of Anirlo-Gernjan Antagonism ' (A. H. Bur- • ■ovre M.P.), etc. The third part is represented bv tables and lists of the world's j>TiT'dno!i£hts. dr.ekri, ships, ordnance, "to., which, though possilily tho l-iiot inviiii'-.-, will le.< lies uios. 1 ' irequently studiod by V\;\'its and controversialists, and mu-I* have involved ati injiiuty of labor. We no!" two taints only, each of wluch is worthy of attention. Admiral Eardlcv-Wilmot, "in his urticleon ' Manninu' tiv 1 Navy.' says: "We have, a, total of .161.621 men availahk: for complete mobilisation. I estimate with our present licet that this would take 135,000 men, so tii" position is The second point is Uoui Mr BywaUr's article. Ho rihows that Germany is spending 47.4 per cent, of hor State revenue on armaments against 28.5 per cent., t-pent by France, and 23 per cent, (spent by Great Britain, and he concludes that this ruinous expenditure eriJimt last, and that Germany must icaliso. sooner or later, the fruitlessness of a policy which is costing' sums annually and engendering bitterness between the two leading Stales of Europe, wbhout bringing in any sidstantial return. 'The Awakening of India.' By J. Ramsay Macdonald, M.P. London: Hoddor and Stoughton. This is a very able work, for it is thoroughly conscientious, tolerant, and sympathetic. It is neither one-sidod nor d'.K'trinaire. It seeks patiently to trace some of the complex currents in AngloIndian life, and it views tho difliculties of British administration with a just approc'arioii of their magnitude. Wo do rot remember having read a more sympathetic criticism of tho typical Indian official than is to be met in these pages. After picturing tho Indian oflicial, ns ho sees himself, Mr Macdonald vrites : As a matter of simple and sober fact, he is only a good average Englishman, with remarkably little knowledge of tho world and of what is going on in it, with an honest, bluff sense of justice and a real desire to do Jus work well. He va3 put in an isolated post in India at l»v> early an ago, perhaps; ho had to pass examinations which did not really winnow tho chaif from tho wheat; ho has to do his best to keep fit in a climate v, hick docs not give him a chance; his \\ hole life, and especially his arrangement of work, aro unnatural; ho lives in an alien civilisation, and has too defective ,-iat imagination tn get into vital touch with it. Theso aro his troubles. A little more sympathy with tho West from, which he came would help him in his trials; but as it is he is in India, bat not of it, of the West, but not in it. All he can do, therefore, is to constitute toe. most clearly defined of all tho casts in India, the ruling cast, and become a god sitting on an Olympus.

Ihe great drawback of tho Indian official, according to Mr Jttacdonald, is a lack of humor, due, no doubt, to his everpresent sense of Olympian power and prestige. The Socialist M.P. suggests that if the official -would only read Radical papers exclusively for a year, "so as to acquire Borne knowledge of Western politics," and confine his other reading for tho same space of time to works of humor, " s» as to become a little thick-skinned," he would bo the perfect oflicaalji and tho Britain Kaj

could laugh at sedition. Without following Mr Ma-cdonald through his ablo analysis of tho forces at work in the India of today, it ie interesting to rroto his main conclusion. Ho raises no reckless demand for the withdrawal of British sovereignty, although he sympathises with tho national spirit now manliest amongst somo of tho educated Indians. Saw our author:

Thus for many ti long year Btitisli sovereignty will bo necessary for India, far tho warring elements in Indian life need a unifying and controlling power. Britain is tho nnrso of India. Deserted by her guardian, India would bo the prey of disrupted elements within herself as well as the victim of her own too enthusiastic worshippers, to say nothing of what would hapon to her from incursions from tho outside. Coerced by her guardian, she will be an endless irritation and worry. Consulted by her guardian, and given wido liberty to govern herself in all hor internal affairs, she may present many difficulties and create many fears, but that is tho only way to abiding peace and to tho fulfilment of our work in India.

Tho descriptive chapters on such themes as " In Barcda," " Among tho Rajputs," and " The Khyber" are vivid pictures of hfo in the East, and among them, none is more arresting than tho picturo ho gives of tho sacred rites in tho banks of tho Ganges at Benares—tho Holy City which "holds in its keeping the soul of India."

A Question of Marriage.' By Mis George Do Homo Vaizey. London : Hoddcr and Stoughtou. Dune din : 11. J. Stark and Co.

Vanna Strangeways is young and beautiful, and the sort of maiden who wains to havo a husband of her own to love and comfort. So she consults a famous physician, and his verdict for over puts away tho lingering shades of hopo that marriage is for her. " You must not marry, for your husband's sake if not for your own and that of others. With tho strong strain of lunacy and tho too many living examples that run in your family, to many would bo a crime." So Vanna went away sorrowing and heartbroken, for, like tho young man in tho Scripture, eho had hor great possession, and it was hard to part with it. But sho docs. Pien-s Randall waits for eight years, then, when his prayers come 10 nought, ho goes abroad and leaves her alone and for ever. Sho tides to rejoice in tho fact that ho has taken her at her word, and fails miseiubly, whilo the news of his marriage—tho marriago tho wished lain to make—breaks her down utterly. Still, in hor heart of hearts 6ho knows sho is right, and finally, out of tho bla-ckness and chaos of mind, she emerges chastened in spirit, purer in nature, and with the knowledge that it is within, not without, that men and women (especially women) must look for happiness. A pretty story, nicely told, with a sound moral, but one that is no f unduly obtrusive. A PRETTY STORY. Mrs T. P. O'Connor, who is as clever as her husband, in her recently-published reminiscences (ours is an ago that loves gossip, and chatter about personalities!, tells tho following : When Henry Ward Beecher was on his last visit to England, ho stayed with Dr Parker at Hampstead Mrs Otonnor went up to read to Beecher Kelson Pago's story ' Mor'so Chan.' Sho says that Dr Parker objected. "Beecher," ho said, "yon are not going to listen to a whole story this bot afternoon." "Parker," Mr Beecher said, " I am ! This is my tea party, and I am going to sit on tho floor with my head on Mother's kneo ('Mother' was his wife), and I am going to havo a good cry. If you don't want to listen, go out in tho garden." Dr Parker stationed himself by tho dcor ready to fleo into tho garden, but ho never stirred until tho story was finished, and even then ho was unable to speak hw thanks for a few moments, whilo his beautiful wife, in tears, was as deeply moved as Mr Beecher himself. MORE EMILY BRONTE. Tho complete Poems of Emily Bronte, edited bv W. Robertson Nicoll and Clement K. Shorter, are shortly to ho published. Tho volume will contain many hitherto unpublished verses, and an introductory essav on Emily Bronte. Next year will bo published the" complete Proso Works of Emilv Bronte. 'Wuthering Heighlf/ will bo printed from tho author's own copy, with her corrections, and with notes of Charlotte's corrections, and some additional matter has been found. Tho two volumes wiil be issued in a limited edition, and will never bo reprinted. They will form tho only complete- edition of the works of Emilv Bronte, who (says Robertson Nicoll) was probably the greatest woman genius of tho nineteenth century." Wo aro glad tho great R.N', saved his reputation by the qualification "probably." These hysterical outbursts oyer the Brontes aro nauseating. They have not even tho merit of baitig within "cooco" of tho truth. 'RAB AND HIS FRIENDS.' Mrs Sarah A. T'ooley, in a centenary sketch of Dr John Brown, in the 'Cornhill Magazine' Cor October, relates how ' [tab md His Friends' came to be written. "Dr Brown's uncle, tho Rev. Dr Smith, of Biggar, asked him to give a lecture in his native village. He had never lectured before, but was anxious to say something to the '.strong-brained primitive peoplo of my youth,' and in a rare moment of inspiration bo decided to tell them Ailie's story, the memory of which bad never left lain since bis days in the Minto House hospital. Ever ho saw tho beautiful face of the suffering woman, heard tho voice of tho heart-broken carrier entreating him to tell all tho world what his Ailie was, and listened to Rab whining at tho hospital door. At twelve ono midsummer night ho sat down to tell tho tale, and by four o'clock ho had finished it. He called the lecture 'Tho Howgato Carrier, His Wife, and His Dog Rab,' but his uncle, in introducing the subject to the Biggar audience, omitted tho last work, at which Dr John complained that his friend Rab had been grievously insulted. ' There was nn doubt he was a dog,' he explained, ' but he was a great deal more —ho was Rab.' Perhaps it was to make amends to the faithful creature that, when tho story appeared in print, the author entitled "it ' Rab and His Friends.' He used to say that manufactured conversation was beyond his powers. When urged to write ' another Rab,' ha said : ' That ia impossible; I cannot foign theso things.'" TIRED OF NOVELS. Aro people growing tired of novels? A publisher confides to tho ' Express' that at least they don't buy novels as they used to do. He 6ays tho only kind of sixshilling story which sells nowadays is tho humorous. " The public want to bo amused : they aro bored with tho flashy ' sex' novel, and they aro tired of what was once known as tho ' great human story.' " Wo don't wonder. Nor have we any reason to doubt that the publisher is right when ho insists on tho excellent chances of the humorous story. Astontshsuccesses havo been reaped within tho last year or two by books which, without being triumphs of comedy, expressed a comic view of life. It is not long since we pleaded in theso columns for more books of tho kind. Wo declared that readers were tired of the writer—his name is legion—who takes tho world rather seriously and himself very seriously. If tho novel is being lulled, it is these people who are committing the murder. But wo docline to think tho world is tirod of stories. It never will tiro of them when they are well told. Just now the novel is malingering. It is a valetudinarian. It wants stirring up. But alas! the humorists who would be such good physicians are hard to find. And when you do find them they are often so intent on reforming the world that they can't listen to the immediate call.