BOOKS AND BOOKMEN.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXVII, Issue 17329, 18 November 1916, Page 12

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN.

LIBER’S NOTE BOOK. . SOME STORIES BY “ SAPPER.” Thpro are some excellent war 6torios and sketches in “Sapper’s” latest book, “Men, Women and Guns,” which will probably rival in popularity it® predecessors, “Sergeant-Major Cassidy, V.G. ” and “ The Lieutenant and Others,” Several of the Sapipcr’s” new yarns deal with the i»y----j chologica.l' side of war, more especially '•with the vexed problem of fear and real ;or alleged cowardice. There is ouo very terrible story, “The Fatal Second,” in which figure two men and a girl. One man is engaged to the other’s sister. The second man. in a moment of grave danger, gives way to fear, wavers and turns. The moment is crucial If the leader “funks it” the new position will bo lost. “The wavering was spreading. I knew that, too. So I shot him through the heart ’ from behind, at point-blank range.” Y T es, tho other .man had shot Jack Delaunay, the brother of his betrothed 1 wife. The colonel writes to x ( tho father that Jack had died gallantly leading a counter-attack to recover lost trenohes. and the other man, God help him, came home in due ' course and told the same story. Then .he said farewell to his betrothed and ;went back to France to seek death, and found it, for the colonel soon wrote :that tho poor fellow bad “literally ichucked his life away saving a wounded I man.” And poor Pat, his sweet- ! heart, never knew tho truth as to her • (brothers end. i COWARD OR PATRIOT? Then there is the story of “ Spud ! Trevor, of the Red Hussars,” a story, ! by the way, from which, with an al* '; 1 terod denouement, a very line play •might be made. This agaiu is said jto he a story founded on fact. Trevor ,pfra» the model of what a. regimental 'officer should be, au English gentle- , man, tho soul of honour —the so-called “ white man ” looked dirty-grey in comparison. And yet there came a dky when he was cut in his olub, and, resigning his commission, sunk his identity under an assumed name, and became a private in a Canadian force. £ll through a woman! The woman was tho wife of bis best friend,. “ Ginger ” Bathurst of the diplomatic service, and she was a German spy! Trevor discovers this fact when he is on a “special intelligence’’ mission to New York, a/id is in a quandnry rvhat to d'o. Bathurst is a highly-placed * man, and through him the spy-wife had undoubtedly got hold of much dnngor- • 1 ously valuJtih. information. Trevor oan’t bear to think of his chum’s agony of mind should ho learn the truth. On the other hand, the Woman must be prevented from doing further mischief. The question of what to do and how to do it is still agitating his mind when ho finds himself on - "board tho same Atlantic liner as tho fair criminal. The Astoria hits

an iceberg.rip the mid.dle .of the night, and founders in abotit. twenty minutes, h'' Officer and spy ave on deck, face to face, whilst from a boat below conies ' the shout', " Room for one more only.” For a moment or two Trevor is in an agony of indecision. Shall lio hold back and allow the woman, the spy, to go in safety to work further harm, I dp. shall ho jump into .the boat himleaving her to perish, whilst be, 11 jw-vod, will bo able to communicate 11 (W the Admiralty and 1 War Offioe, ) § ta.'wulq some at least of the misohiof fi 9 friend’s treacherous wife has done. go dooidqs that whatever happens jgland lhust not suffer. Withriut further tbcurijt I pushed by her, and stepped into the host, which was actually brin? lowered into the water. Two minutes'lator the Astoria sunk, and eho went down with her. ..... ' That is what occurred thnt night in midAtlantic, I make no excuses, I offer no palliation; I merely state facts.'. . . . '■When you read these lines ,I shall bo.dead; they will come to 'you a 3 a voice from the , dead. And n* a man who faces his Maker, I tel! you, with a calm certainty, that il am not deceiving myself, that that night there no, trace of cowardice in. my mind. It was not a desire to save, my own life that actuated mo: it was the tear of danger to sEngland. An error of judgment possibly; an act of cowardice —no. That much'"l state, and that much I demand you believe. The story of the poor fellow’s misery when the/ story leaks out, and his friends cut him dead in the club and the streets, makes painful reading. . He could not justify himself by telling "Ginger” that his wife, the mother of his children, was a German spy. So he; confides the true story to the coitmel, resigns and disappears, to die ■■a glorious death, at Lhos, a* a private in ft'Canadian regiment. ” THE COMPANY IDIOT.” •j Ail “ Sapper’s ” stories, however, do j not, have officers, officers’ wives and i sweethearts as their heroes and hero- • ioes. > One of the most convincingly i realistic of the sketches is that of j," Private Meyrick, Company Idiot.” I Meyrklk is no favtfarite with his non- ! corns. He iji late in .falling-in, is 1 slovenly in liis dress, is absent-minded at drill. He is always in trouble, this gentle-mannered, soft-spoken Cockney ox-warehouse lad. / • j Going up to tho trenches it was always ' Merrick who, got lost-, Meyrick who fell 1 in."shell- holes and lost, his rifle or the ' jam for his sectinn; Meyrick who forgot ;to lie down when a flaro weut up, hut | stood vacantly goring at it until partially i. stunned by his nest-door neighbour. 1 Periodically messages would come through from the next regiment taking if they’d JoaV the regimental pet, and that he waa bring returned. It woe always Meyrick. . v . “I can’t do nothing with ’im, sir.” It was the. company sergeant-major speaking,. to Seymour. ”’E seems eoft-lika in ' the./ ’ead. Whenever ’e does do anything end- doesn’t forget, ’e does it wrong. ‘E’s always dreaming anil half barmy.” '‘lie’s not a flier, I know, sergeantmajor, but we’ve got to put up with all sorts.' nowadays,” relumed the officer diplomatically. “Send him to me, and let •me-'have a good look at him.” j . “.Very well, sir,, but '« ’ll lot ua down badly one of these days.” fib Private Meyrick, the Company Idiot, is solemnly taken to task. Why had he been late in falling-ip?.' "I was a-reading Kipling, sir.” It is ex- - plained to him that reading Kipling shouldn’t prevent him from helping, the cook’s mate until it was time for him to go on parade. Meyrick endeavours to explain that “ Kipling sort of gets ’-rid of ms like, makes me ■want to do things—&nd then I ean’t. IVe ilvavß been »low and awkward-like, and I gets a bit flustered at timed. But Ido try ’ard. si*. I«» as 'ow I woe wrong. But—l dreams. sometimes •as ’ow I'm like them ho talks about when *o says as ’ow they lifted ’em through the charge ns won the day. ADd then the drsam s over, and I know os 'ow I’m not” The good-natured and discerning officer poos somo good in the man, and .reprimands him firmly, hut kindly. “ Beeouso I think that, at the back of your head somewhere yoti’vo got tho right ideas; because I think it's natural to you to he «, bit slow and awkward, and that your failure isn’t, duo to Issiness or slackness, I’m not going 1o punish you this time for

breaking the rules. If you do it again it will bo a different mutter." When the private had gone the major said, “He’ll make i, .■ good, that man. Hc’il make good.” But

TREASURES OF THE SHELVES. I " (By “LIBER”) Give a man a. pipe he can smoko, Oive a man a *>ooh he can read; And his home is bripht urith a calm delight Though the room be poor indeed. —James Thomson.

to the sergeant. Private Merrick is a. " mere perishcr.”

Tho st-ory of how the poor Idiot docs “ make good,” and proves himself no “perishcr,” b.ut a. truo hero, is one of tho most stirring of “Sapper's” chapters. 'There are, no doubt, Meyricks by, the dozens at the front. They only want their opportunity, and when it comes they can rise to it. G.K.C. WAXES SARCASTIC. Mr Chesterton is unquestionably a master of sarcasm, and he appears to bo at bis best when- alio Hun is jJie object. A recent German literary production has given G.lv.C. a chance of which he lias cleverly availed himself. Tho Hun author, in distributing bis censure among the Allies, asserts the chief French motive and characteristic to be Vanity. Thereupon, Mr Chesterton discourses as follows: "This Vnnity in tho French hns recently driven them to Yeuge-snee, or, as it is expressed with a fine linguistic culture, to revanche. In 19.14, at the beginning of August, the French still retained an antiquated and morbid memory of having had war declared on them suddenly during tho last few days ot July. They allowed themnolvcß to be influenced by old sentiments of resentment and resistance when the Germans marched upon their capital; and scorn to have regarded the assaults on Verdun and Maubeugc, and even the occupation of Northern Franoe, as hints of some future hostility. Arohaio historical associations led them to fancy that the armed occupation of Paris by the Prussians would be an act of war; and they were bo vain and vengeful as to attempt to intercept the invaders. Nay, they wens so insanely sensitive and, superstitious a® to beat the invaders soundly in tho firet big ba;ltle of tho war. When it comes to the, romantic Gaul, not content with saving Paris, forcibly insisting on tho whole German army going back with tho utmost hurry and botheration behind the line of the Aisne, it will be foil that an amiable human weakness was indulged in a degree which might well bo described as the very Vanity of Vanities." THE “IRON DUKE” ON THE SOOTHING WEED. The extent to which tobacco, especially in the form of cigarettes, is being used’ by our soldiers in the present war wtfuld have horrified the Duke of Wellington. The “Iron Duke” was as uncompromising in his attitude of opposition to the smoking habit as was King James the First who, it may be remembered, wrote a “ Counterblast to Tobacco,” which he called “ that styrknge Indian weedc.” or even our own Chief Justice, whose philippics against smoking surely qualify him for a. perpetual presidency of the AntiTobacco League—if it still exists. When, the Duke was Cominander-in-Ohief 'in 1845, so Sir Herbert Maxwell informs us in an article in the Cornell Magazine,” he issued the following ‘ ‘ general order ” :

“ G.O. No. 577.—The Commander-in-Chief has been informed that the practice of smoking, by th« uso of pipes, cigars, and cheroots, has become prevalent among the officers of the Army, which is not only in itßelf a species of intoxication occasioned by tho fumes of tobocco, but, undoubtedly, occasions drinking and tippling, by thoeo who •acquire •'the , habjt; • and-'be -entreats, the officers commanding regiments to 'prevent smoking in tho mens rooms of their several regiments, and in the adjoining apartments, and to discourage the practice among the officers of junior rank in their regiments.” '* There was no Press censor in those days, and ‘ Punch,’ which was then a' vigorous stripling in its fourth, year, was allowed to make merrv over this fulminntion, declaring that officers of the Army were greatly perturbed, 'dreading the possibility of being thrown upon their conversational resources, which . must have a most dreary effect.’ Tobacconists drove a brisk trade in pipe-stoppers carved in the likeness of Hie Duke’s head. These might now ho a fitting object of pursuit on the part of collectors.”

ANDREW LANG AND STEVENSON. Clayton Hamilton’s book, “On the Trail of Stevenson,” is rather expensive, but it will be a pure joy ,to Stevenson lovers, as much on account of its beautiful illustrations as for "the many new lights it throws on Stevenson’s curiously complex character. At first sight Stevenson’s personality often repelled rather than attracted. Such, it appears, was the experience of the late Andrew Lang, a. fellow Scot who eventually became an intimate friend of R.L/S. Irang, though one of the kindliest of men, had a curiously gruff and jerky manner of speech. When another man would have said “ Will you have a cigarette? ’ Lang said, “ Cigarettes—over thei’e.” And instead of asking you to be seated lie would grumble, “ Chair,” and wave bis hand. He described his first meeting with . Stevenson on the, Riviera as follows,:— . ; ' Mentone. Promenade. Saw him coming. Didn’t like him. Long' cape. Long hair.. Queer hat. Damned queer. Hands; white, bony, beautiful. Didn't Hko the oape. Didn't like the hair. Looked like a damned aesthete. Never likel isathetes. Can’t stand them. Tnlked well. Saw that. Still seemed onother sesthete Colvin had discovered. Didn’t like him. Didn’t, like him at oil. . . Later. —Oh, yes—but 1 needn’t tell you that. Didn't like him at first. Took time.” > In Franco, particularly. in the Latin quarter , in Faris, speh an apparition would not have appeared so strange. SOME RUSSIAN PROVERBS. •Whatever may bo thought in London'and Paris about the unscrupulous behaviour of the pro-German section of the Greeks we may be fairly certain that Russians would not have been surprised by the recent disclosures of Greek mendacity and treachery. An industrious English writer has been delving in the rich mine of Russian popular proverbs. “The German may be a good fellow, but it is better to hang him,” is one saying l which is not likely to have lost its popularity of late. The Russian has always disliked the Jew. There are two popular aphorisms which prove this dislike: “When ycM baptise a Jew, keep him under water”; and “A Christianised Jew and a reconciled foo are not to be trusted.” \ But oven a Jew, according to the Russian point of view, is not so bad as a Greek or an Armenian. for “one Greek;” we are told, “ is equal in cheating to two Jews, one Armenian to two Greeks.” There is also another Russian proverb which, elaborates this opinion: “A Russian can bo cheated only by a Gipsy, a Gipsy bv a Jew, a Jew by a Greek, and a Greek by the devil.” This reminds “Liber” of what an old skipper, long in the Levant trade, told him of a Greek woman with whom he once commiserated upon the fact of her hoy being a cripple. “Ah, never mind that. God has been good to him in another way; he is such a beautiful liar!” ARABIA AND THE ARABIANS. Reviewing Colonel Harold Jacob’s book on Arabia, Lord Cromer (in the “Spectator”) doubts the wisdom of pressing upon that country’ reforms of any kind. It is more than doubtful, he says, whether the Arabs themselves really want them. Colonel Jacobs records that when any changes are suggested the answer which is g>h»sn is “ Say-not to the camol * turn,’ tvs

knows* tho wnv bottev than thou.” In Arabia innovation and crime are one and the same thing. Jt may seem a counsel of despair to say so, but- the truth is that far some long while to come the Arabs will probably have to choose between being either barba.roUß and free or semi-civilised and dependent. One of the main obstacles which stand in tho way of any reform is the time-honoured sanction given,to blood feuds, which, Colonel Jacob says, “are a curse, and block all progress.” The Arab has, indeed, a certain respect lor Government, particularly for strong Government. Is it not said that “ the wicks of the lamps of Government are long,” and again that “tho camels ot Government, though they move passing slow, outstrip tho gazelles of the tribesmon?” Rut in this matter of blood feuds, as every one who has had to deal with them knows, Government is well-nigh powerless. They are sanctioned by tho Koran. “ Oh, believers!” Mohammed said, “retaliation tor blood-lotting is written for you, and again he declared that " m the (aw or retaliation is . your life.” Morcovei, the Arab delights in war. Iho man who prefers trade to warlike pursuits is termed “ a-wrapper-up-of-commotht.es-in-paper.” Again, why should death be feared P Did not tlnv Prophet sa>, “ Death is a favour to a Moslem, and did he not add that “ the ide to come is the mansion that abideth, W? eit, therefore, a well-intentioned British official urges that the tune has arrived for mitigating the rigours.of the lex talioriis, and that the Koranic punishment of tho loss of a hand for the t is considered somewhat drastic modern times, he is met with the unanswerable interrogatory, Shall 1 not obey God rather than man ? In this book Colonel Jacob (who was for ton years a political officer among the wild* inhabitants of the Aden hinterland), gives an interesting accoun of a wholly unsuccessful attempt he made to induce a number of Cham tribesmen to break off their long-stand-ing blood feud with another tribe, the Amiri. The idea that the Amin could ever be really friendly was reacted with, scorn bv the Sliairi hoadmen. 1 1,0 Amiri, from the Cliairi point of view, could never change their nature. A dog is always a clog, though he wear -a collar of gold,” as was said by another tribe, the Alawis, about their hereditary enemies, the Alii Kutaib, to which t.Ko ’ latter responded: “ A slave, is a •slave, though his turban’s fringe bo daily lengthened.” A long discussion took place, accompanied by a vast consumption of cigarettes and coffee, in the midst of which one loading member of the Bhairi tribe whispered .into Colonel Jacob’s ear that it was quite impossible that lie could do otherwise than hate the Head Sheikh of tho Amin. “ Just a hint,” he said, “from your lips and I will bo hack in no time With Ins son’s head under my arm.” “ But, my friend,” Colonel Jacob pleaded, with European logic and a full knowledge of Arabian proverbial wisdom. “ would you have Government take sides? Recollect your proverb, ‘ Do not apply antimonv to one eye and neglect the other ? M At one moment he gained a certain amount of support from a Slmiri pacifist named At Kahm, who said: “ Al daulnh al Britanniya riga.l. (The British Government, oh men, is nil' powerful, and will not stomach the kindling of strife near their camp. God will decree what is host.) Al Kahm. however, carried no weight. He was a trimmer. He was that “ worst of the cattle which stirs up the pool.” “He herds with the herdsmen ancl ravens with the wolf.” _ “Ho belonged neither to Moses's faction nor to Pharaoh’s.” ‘‘ God had put, a covering over his vision, so ho could not i but err.” Colonel Jacob, then read a passage from a somewhat noted Sura in the Koran which says: “Follow ye that which God hath sent down.” He was immediately answered with the context: “Nay, we follow the usages 'which we found with our fathers,” -So all was of no avail. The Sliairi shouted : “God’s wo are, and to Him we return.” and went merrily off to slaughter more Amiri. stray leaves. In Hodder and Houghton's autumn list is a book to which I am looking forward with much interest. This is a volume of essays, “Men of Letters, by the late Dixon Scott, who died at <tiic Dardanelles last year. Scott was a brilliant literary critic, and many of my readers will remember the delightful essays he contributed to “ The Bookman.” Besides studies by Baritt, Kipling, Masefield, Wells, Shaw, Arnold Bennett and others of liis contemporaries, Mr Scott’s book contains essays on Meredith, Browning, Whitman, Morris and others of an earlier generation. That witty writer, Max. Beerbohm, contributes a prefatory chapter. • . “ War.” says a Greek poet, “is fain to take no evil man, but aye tho best.” The losses of British scholarship in this awful war have been very large. Rev cent casualty lists record the deaths of Mr R. J. E. Teddy, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, and of Mr, Gordon Butler, a son of the Master of Trinity, Cambridge. Both were men of exceptional ability. A favourite book, of mine nsrtl to bo (alas, it has long ago gone tho way of so many “lent books”) Mr Francis Ware Cornish’s “Sunning. Well,” a simple storv of life in a quiet English cathedral city, but full of pleasant talk about books. The author, lam sorry to notice, died in August. Mr Cornish, who retired from the Viee-Provostship of Eton last year, spent, many years in teaching at liis old school. Ho was a fine classical scholar, and did a translation* of Catullus for tho Lock Classical Library. He also wrote a life of Jana Austen for Macmillan’s “English Men of Letters” series. Lord George Hamilton, who was a member'of more than one Conservative Ministry, has written a book entitled “ Parliamentary Reminiscences and Reflections,” which is to be published by Mr John Murray. Sir George Forrest, for many years Srominently connected with the Indian xecutive, has written an entirely new “Life of Lord Clive,” in which, so it is understood, he lias incorporated the result of much painstaking research in the official records of Calcutta. It is claimed that the book will throw much interesting light on episodes in Clive’s career, ot' which previous biographers have been ignorant. Charles Frohmann, the American theatrical manager, who was one of the victims of trie Lusitania outrage, was a many-sided man, intellectually much above the average of the everyday impressario. His “ Life ” has been written by a clever New York journalist. Isaac F. Marcos son, assisted by the dead man’s nephew. Daniel Frohmann, and the result is, it is said, a book of exceptional interest. Those popular novelists, Mr and Mrs Williamson, are now members of a. “ Disabled Service Helpers’ Association.” working at Nice in aid of the English soldiers invalided on the Riviera.

Amongst the autumn announcements of Mr Edward Arnold Is a book which ought to contain many good stories. Tills is “ The .Reminiscences of Lord O'Brien,” Chief Justice of Ireland. The autobiography of Sir Rivers Wilson, who played, if I remember rightly, a prominent part in the Suez Canal negotiation. should also be worth reading. Wilson was afterwards president of the Canadian Grand Trunk Railway.

Malta has sprung into renewed prominence owing to the war, and the wonderful hospital work of which it baa been the centre. A new book on tho island and its people, and on the war work being done tneje, has been written by Chaplain-Major Mackinnon. The title is “ Malta, the Nurse of the Mediterranean.” Fodders will publish this book. I am not an enthusiastic admirer of Mr John Masefield’s longer, and, to my mind, rather dreary poems, such sis “The Widow in By Street” and “ Dauber,” although I admit their lingering, convincing realism. Person-

ally, 1 I prefer Mr Masefield’s sea balli;ds and his lyrical pictures of nature. In his latest published volume the lyrical vein is pleasantly prominent. Here for instance, is a passage from one of the poems which well illustrates the poet’s feeling for Nature, and the suggestions sho has for him; Night is on the downlead, on tho lonely moorland, On tho hills where the wind goes over eheop-hitten turf. Where the bent gross leads upon the unploughed poorland, And tho pine woods roar like the surf. Hero the Roman lived on the wind-barren lonely. Dork now nnd haunted by the moorland fowl: Nono comes here now hut the peewit only, And mothliko death in the owl. . . . Now where Beauty w*s aro the windwithered gorses Mooning like old men in the hill-wind’e blast, The flying sky is dsrk with running' horses And tho night is full of the past. A curious example of a woman’s magnanimity is given in a letter written by Queen Adelaide (consort of William the Fourth) to tho. Hon W. Ashley, and quoted in Mr Courville’s recentlypublished book on autographs. Tho Queen writes: I hope you will be able to epara mo £9OO to send nt Christmas to the. different FitxClnrenco families (her husband’s children by Dorothy .Jordan, tho actress, who was for many years tho King’s mistress), I should like to send it. myself. ... It will show them that I have not forgotten them nor their connection with the dear King. Ono may reasonably question (observes " The, Times”) if the Romcwhat Bordid story of George the Thiril’n two pons and successors can show another such touch of splendid magnanimity. Ono of tho leading characters, in Arnold Bennett’s new novel, “Tho Lion's Share,” which Cassel’s'are publishing, has been, identified as Miss Christahel Pankhurst. The Suffragist agitation plays a prominent,part in the novel, which also contains some lively pictures of Paris, Before the war.