LONDON LITERARY GOSSIP.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1188, 7 December 1894, Page 11

LONDON LITERARY GOSSIP.

From Oar Special Correspondent. London, October 20

The fust of the new series of English classics, edited by W. E. Henley, printed on handmade paper by Constable, and published by Methuen and Co., appeared on Monday last in two delightful volumes, price 3s 6d each. This is Sterne’s " Tristram Shandy,” with an admirable preface by Charles Whibley, and I think when you see it you will agree it is a cheap book. Type, paper, weight (or rather lack of weight), and binding are as nearly as possible perfection. You don’t —I may explain for the benefit of those unacquainted with Sterne’s masterpiece—want to rush through “ Tristram Shandy ” like a novel fresh from Mudie's. It will be enjoyed most dipped into for half an hour now and again when in a lazy mood. "Lawrence Sterne,” says Mr Whibley, "is a prince amongst literary tramps, a king in Bohemia of phrase and fable. He takes the road with a debonair frivolity, starting nowhere to go no whither. .“ . . His ‘ Tristram Shandy ’ is a triumph in the art of digression. Never was a book patched together (you cannot say composed) with so little sense of a plan or a hero. . . He designed the book for a medley of humour and reflection of pathos and impertinence. He dreamed half seriously of Shandeism raised to a philosophy ; his vanity almost prayed that a habit of life might proceed from the turns and twists of his flippancy,” ,

To the Red, Blue and Green Fairy Books, Mr Andrew Lang has now added an equally fascinating volume in Yellow. Your correspondent’s small nephew and nieces indeed avow and declare the Yellow Fairy Book is the best of all the collections which the editor, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the Folk Lore Society, has perpetuated. I iancy, however, to children, as to many grown-ups, the newest thing is always the best. Anyhow it may be accepted as true the Yellow Fairy Book falls no whit short of its predecessors, either as regards stories or pictures or binriiug. The publishers are Macmillans, and the price 6s.

The Golden Fairy Book, published by Hutchinson, with illustrations by Hi R. Millar, is really a new collection of tales from foreign sources. Instead of Grimm, Ilans Andersen, and Madame D’Aulnoy, such writersas George Sand, Voltaire, Moritz Jokai Dumas, Laboulaye, and sundry Russians Portuguese are laid under contribution. The subjects for illustration have been capitally chosen all through, and there seems to be one on well-nigh every page. I shouldn’t wonder if the Golden Fairy Book—despite the anonymity of the translator —had as large a sale as Mr Lang’s volume. Note, please, it is meant for older children than the Yellow Fairy Book. Price Gs.

The writing of three-volume novels has not prevented G. A. Henty turning out the usual number of boys’ books in the form of bistory-and-water., . Blackie and Sons announce “ Wulf the Saxon : A Story of the Norman Conquest,” and “ When London Burned : A Story of the Restoration,” by the prolific scribe, at 6s, and “In the Heart of the Rockies : A Story of Adventure in Colorado,” at ss.

Manville Fenn’s familiar name disappears from Blackie’s list this year, but instead we are promised “ Olaf the Glorious,” by Robt. Leighton, “ To Greenland and the Pole,” by Dr Gordon Stables, and “ Banshee Castle,’ by Rosa Mulholland. These are 5s books, barring the last-named, which is 6s. For 3s 6d our boys may either study the Napoleonic era through the medium of Mr G. Norway’s “ A Prisoner of War,” or the manners and customs of “ In Press-gang Days," aided by Frank Pickering. I will let you know which are the best of these directly I see them.

The girls’ book likely to attract most attention is “ Things Will Take a Turn," an unpretentious 2s 6d tale by Beatrice Harraden, which was written long before “ Ships That Pass in the Night ” took the world by storm.

The most perfect memento of dear old Oliver Wendell Holmes the average man could wish for is the Houghton Mifflin (in Loudon, Gay and Bird) edition of “ The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table,” in two sumptuous volumes, with 15 photogravures and endless engraved text illustrations by Howard Pyle. The price is a guinea (less usual discount), but there are also a few glorious large paper copies at four guineas, Tho3eofus who cannot “ run-to” a guinea even for an “ Autocrat" can find plenty of editions to choose from. Rontledge publishes a pocket edition in perfectly readable type at sixpence (Is in cloth), but I prefer the slightly more expensive issue of David Douglas. Boutledge’s contains a few lines of introduction by gala.

To-Day (edited by Jerome K. Jerome) remarks of a volume of Cockney humour called “We Three and Troddles,” which has caught on with the London public, that the author —a funny fellow who calls himself “R. Andom"—is the “most successful of the humorists of the school of Jerome." School of Jerome ! Ye Gods, what next ! “Mr R. Andom,” To-Day goes on, “ is, like Mr Jerome, a melancholy sort of person, and took to humour to save his life." If this be indeed the case I fear the young man’s end can't be far off.

The Cavalry Number of the Pall Mall Budget, published last Thursday, scores another significant' triumph for Mr Lewis Hind. Over 50,000 copies were sol lon the day.of issue. Mr' Hind is the one member of Mr Astor’s staff who has prove i a consistent success and manage! to make us forget an exceptionally capable predecessor.

Mr Robert Buchanan, poet and playwright, is about to make a second venture into journalism. Full sixteen years ago he edited a paper called Light, which saw light once a week for a brief space and i hen went out. It was a readable journal, much on tho.lines of the present Spectator, but too “ literary " for the bulk of humanity Mr Buchanan’s’ new venture is to be run in a similar groove, and will be a weekly issued at sixpence. It is to be “ non-political," but this one can hardly believe seeing that Buchanan’s mission in this world is to put everybody right upon every conceivable subject from poetry to the ethics of Christianity.

Sergius Stepniak, the beloved of Bedford Park hostesses, at whose receptions he is the principal “ lion," is responsible for yet another work on Nihilism. Fisher Unwin will shortly issue “ Nihilism as It Is" from Stepniak’s pen, and from the lips of one who has already perused parts of the work I have it that the book is “ extremely fascinating.” Stepniak is a queer-looking creature, burly in form, black of hair, and with a “ bulbous beetling forehead.” He speaks English well and is a copious conversationalist. Unfortunately lionising by the second-rate literary and artistic coterie of Bedford Park has rather spoiled this original creature. ‘ ‘ Dere vas too mooch Ego in his cosmos ” now, as the professor said of the Ourang-outang in Kipling’s “ Bimbi."

Alma Tadema, the famous artist, is a fastidious person as regards personal appearance. He is trim and neat wherever and whenever you see him. On one occasion ho had for a guest Eliha Vedder, a well-known American, who, unlike hia host, was a bit of a Bohemian, and during his stay with the painter grievously vexed that tidy person by his dishabille habit of dress, On the morn-

ing after his arrival at the house, Mrs Alma Tadema was roused from sleep by an imperious knocking at her chamber door. Much alarmed she shook her spouse, who, starting up, demanded fiercely what was wanted. It was Vedder who was at the door, and he answered in a voice which could be heard the house over, “ I say, Tadema, old fellow, where d’ye keep the scissors you trim your cuffs with ?” The great artist’s reply is not on record.

Sir William Ingram, the proprietor of the Illustrated ..London,News, is maturing plans for the issue of two new illustated journals, which he proposes to publish under the titles, The Daily Sketch and Turf and Stage. The latter will of course be a weekly. In addition to the News Sir William runs a hotel at Westgate-on-Sea, is chief proprietor of the Lady's Pictorial, and is popularly supposed to have an interest in several of the more successful “snippet” journals.

Rivals to Punch, instead of damaging the old gentleman, really do him good. When one sees what a very moderate figure the new comic periodicals, despite all their bounce and up-to-date humour, manage to cut, we become much more tolerant of our old friend. Take this new venture of Harry Furniss’ for example. We have read “ interviews " and “puff pars” and advertisements concerning it for months past. Yet what is it after all, what is Lika Joko ? Have Mr Furniss jand his staff discovered some fresh and langhter-moving phase of the “ new humour ?f * Is the gaiety of nations materially enhanced by the popular caricaturist's weekly ? • Is there, in tact, one solitary original idea, or one really good joke from cover to cover ? Not a bit of it. As a humourist Lika Joko is a respectable mediocrity—just Punch and water, with a dash of Moonshine and a soupcon of Pick-me-up. The burlesque letter from Whistler to Du Maurier on the first page will, I fear, seem the reverse of comic to the great James, as the incisive epistolary style is but feebly parodied. The notion of interviewing an interviewer must, too,, be pronounced a hoary jokelet. The balance of this exceptional first] number, which has been in the course of conception for eight months, is up, perhaps, to an average issue of Punch. Your opinion may not impossibly differ from mine. I consider Lika Joko a disappoints ment.

The new edition of Henry Kingsley’s most popular novels, which Ward-Lock are bringing out at 3s 6d a volume, is well printed and tastefully bound. The initial volume, “ Geoffrey Hamlyn,” contains, in addition to an excellent portrait of the author, an interesting memoir. This is by Clement Shorter, who maintains that “Ravenshoe,” “The Hillyars and the Burtons,” and “ Geoffrey Hamlyn ” have staying powers, and, though lacking the supreme quality of style, will live quite as long as Charles . Kingsley’s romances. Henry Kingsley, hq says, has focussed for us in these three books the early life of a new country, the first building up of a great commonwealth. His name must be writ large, indeed, in the annals of Australia; and in'the Old Country there are critics of diverse tastes —critics like Swinburne, James Payn, Andrew Lang and Augustine Birrell —who have cordially praised and who admire his best work. Henry Kingsley went to Australia in 1853, And stayed there fiv9 years “roughing it,” partly up-country and partly as a trooper in the constabulary. The popular legend that “Geoffrey Hamlyn” was written at Langi willy, in New South Wales, is a delusion. Kingsley began and finished the book at his cottage at Wargrave-on-Thames, where Swinburne was one of hies most frequent visitors, and many nice people were to be met. The nature of the cloud which overshadowed Henry Kingsley’s life and led to his family and their friends looking upon him as to a great extent a black sheep is not very clearly indicated. I think, however, there can be little doubt that it was intemperance. Undoubtedly his books fell off sadly towards the end of his life, and it is difficult to believe such stuff as “ Stretton” can be by the author of “Ravenshoe.” As a journalist Henry Kingsley was also unsuccessful, and his short career on an Edinburgh morning paper Mr Shorter riglitly relegates to obscurity. In “ Geoffrey Hamlyn ” much of Kingsley’s own story may be found. Many declare it is—Rolf Boldrowood notwithstanding—the finest tale of pioneer life in Australia ever written., 1 should not care to go quite .so far as this in eulogy.' To call any novel the novel of- Australian novels is a large order. There can, however, be no doubt “ Geoffrey Hamlyn ” ranks, and will always rank, high up in colonial fiction. Bar Captain Starlight, the Marstons, and perhaps the hero of Marcus Clark’s “His Natural Life,” there are few characters whom one associates more affectionately with “up-country” than Sam Buckley, Jem Shockbridge, Mary Hawker, Major and Mrs Buckley, And Geoffrey himself.

Most great men find the compiling of one autobiography a good deal more than sufficient for them, but our friend “G.A.S.” can apparently go on indefinitely writing about himself. Only a few months ago the “ Prince of Journalists ” (as our ancestors named him) supplied two stout volumes of “ Things I Have Seen and Done ” to the reading public, and now yet another volume of literary “tag, rag and bobtail” makes its appearance, resurrected from betwixt the bilious covers of the defunct “ Sala’s Journal.” As if this were not sufficient, we are presently, promised “ The Life and Adventures of George Augustus Sala ” in two more volumes. Cassells bring out this great work, and the price will be 325.

Mrs Caffyn’s.« Children of Circumstance” appears in three volumes to-day.

“ Australia Revenged,” by “ Boomerang,” is amongst the new books published by Remington and Co.