AMONG THE BOOKS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13480, 3 July 1907, Page 9

AMONG THE BOOKS.

i . ■»» Mr. C. K. Shorter writes in the Sphere: "Were I a Stevensonian, as I am a Johnsonian, a Borrovian, and a Diekensian, I > I should feel very unhappy at the poor : I figure cut by my fellow votaries of the Icult in their utter failure to secure a i statue of Stevenson in Edinburgh, that city of statues. I cannot understand this great admiration tor an author's works in! 1 resplendent orm that is not accompanied i Iby the desire to do him honour in the ! way of a. memorial." It is true that there |is a tablet to Stevenson's memory in Edinj burgh, but it cannot be considered satis-j j factory. When will the greater memorial i ! come? j Many successful writers of stories find i great delight in their work. The late lan IMaclaren once said that lie had no pleasuie whatever in his writings, and he found {himself "in cordial agreement with every I unfavourable review.' But writing with I him was a laborious process. Here are I tilt; different stages through which "The ! Bonnie Brier Bush" stories passed —(1) i Slowly drafted in arrangement ; (2) draft ! revised before writing; (3) written; (4) imanuscript revised; (5) first proof cor-:, I rotted; (6) revise corrected; (7) having I been published in a periodical, revised for | book: (8) first proof corrected; (9) .second ] proof corrected. It will surprise no one' after this to learn that Dr. Watson never- j ■ read any of his works, after publication ! in book form. Under the title of "Society and Solitude," Mr. Arthur C. Benson,'the brilliant author of the '•Upton. Letters," and now the joint editor with Lord Usher of the ''Better of Queen Victoria," gives us one of his characteristic wisdom-of-life essays. From it we take the following passage: — j I." Probably the wise thing for a solitary i [man is- to cultivate at all risks a icrtain Igregariousness'. It is a dangerous experiment to isolate one's self from one's kind : (one tends to begin to despise other people ■ ! for being fussy and trivial, while at the [same time one becomes fussy and trivial j one's self. Moreover, one begins to acquire 'the dangerous habit, productive of much !priggishness, of trying to estimate things Iby their intrinsic worth instead of by their I ultimate worth. The intrinsic worth of l human labour in any department is very small. Much of every day is taken up, and necessarily taken, up, with actions which have no value. I had an old friend who was very great on the subject of "redeeming the time," and very hard on what he J called unprofitable occupations. Vet he I took an hour to dress in the morning and [an hour to undress at night, duties which I jhe performed with a good deal of rectitude, :i pose he never calculated the somewhat! japalling fact that in the course, of a long! Lite he had spent in all some six entire; years in the process of dressing and un-j dressing] If one once begins; these gloomy; Icalculations, it is shocking to reflect how} very small a portion of our life is really! given to what may be called serious things.j The truth really is that a man's life is the! expression of his temperament, and that what eventually matters is hi*-altitude and; j relation to life, his hopes and aspirations,! and not only his performance. The. solitary mini ought to be very careful not to drift; '100 far away from the' normal point of view..' • He ought to be very careful not to acquire;; 'a sense of superiority in the matter. He! ' ought to realise that'it i. his fault or his misfortune, du». perhaps, to a certain de- ' jlieiency of nervous force, which makes him j [disposed, to shun his fellows. i