A LITERARY CORNER

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 7451, 27 May 1911, Page 9

A LITERARY CORNER

(BY "LIBER.") i. M. Synge and His Work. Tho publication of a four-volume collected edition of the plays and poems of tho late J. M. Synge (Mauustd, -Dublin, 4 vols., 2-U net), should .servo to introduce Synge’s work to a much wider public than it has hitherto reached. Of ai! the little baud of clever —more or less clever—young Irish writers who have been responsible for what has been cubed the Celtic Itenaissanee, Synge was one of the ablest and mu.A original. To the April number of “The Bookman ' Darrell 'j’iggis contributes a very interesting ar•ticie, biographical and critical. on Syngo and his work. A Galway man by birth IPAD. Svngc entered at Trinity College, Dublin, ‘in 18S8, and graduated there u-ur years later, taking prizes in Gaelic and Hebrew in the interim. • At first his bent was towards music, and Jiu took •ychoiurship in .Harmony. In 28CA he went to Germany, and. two years later, io Paris, where he lived fur .some time, first meeting Vv. B. Yeats at tho little hotel in the Kuo Corneille, opposite the (;dc'on Theatre —a tirne-honoured literary corner of Paris. Then came tho irresistible call of iiis native land, ami to Aran lie returned, spending a large por-

tion of the year in the Isles of which ho loved to write. Later on. again, ho became a director of the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, and its most important, certainly its most debated dramatist. Play followed play with, nnhasting deliberation., The desolation, and loneliness of "The] yhadow of the Glen” led to the wild,, fateful "Eiders to the Sea.” In all his plays is seen the finished craftsmanship learned in Paris. Ills "Play Boy” is recounted, I believe, Synge’s best effort. Mr Figgis considers that Synge "tailed utterly in poetry. There is often incision. and frequently pungency, in his verse; but there is not music,” He was working at another play, "Deidro of the borrows,” when ho died, on March 2-ith, 190 J. I warmly* commend the “Bookman” article to all who are interested in the work of the young Irish school, and especially in that of its foremost playwright.

Tho Late E. H. Pember, K.C. London “Athenaeum" v April loth) gives u long and most sympathetic biographical note on tho late E. 11. Pember, K.C., who died fla April oth at tho good old age of seventy-nine, Tho late Mr Pember was, I believe X am correct in stating, an uncle of the Hon. V/. Pember Peeves, ex-High Commissioner for New Zealand. Educated at Harrow and Ox-, tord, where lie had a distinguished ca-i leer, Hr Pember remained a devoted lover of the classics all his life. Ho published, at various dates, a long series of volumes of poetry which were printed, privately, for the benefit of his triends,, ut tho Chiswick Press. Some three or; four years ago,, a set of these volumes was presented, through the Hon. W. Pember Hooves, to the Parliament Library. Mr P?labor's practical work was largely coloured by and representative of his classical studies. Ho produced some admirable versa translations of the,

“Prometheus Bound" of Aeschylus, thoj “Oedipus at Colonnus" of. Sophocles, and] the “Hiopolyhis" of Euripides. Ho also had a very happy satiric vein, and some of his lighter verso fairly challenges comparison with that of Calverley. Also, Ho proved his versatility by some very, charming lyrics which reflect his strong! sympathy with Nature in all her moods. Ho wrote much ou musical subjects, cou-, tributing articles on the. early Italian composers to that monumental work, "Grove’s Dictionary of Music," and was for many years an active, member of the, Loun-cil of the Koyal College of Music. A brilliant conversationalist —“fow men, ’ nays tho “Athenaeum," “have been readier with an apt quotation, whether from, ancient and modern writers; few have' had a happier turn for epigram, while cither professionally or in society he had met the most notable men of his time and was full of good stories about them, Mr Pember belonged to three of toe oldest and most famous dining socie-, ties in Loudon —“The Club," “Tho Literary Society," and “The Society of Dilettanti," For the last-named society ho acted for many years us Secretary. Only, a year ago an admirable portrait' of Mi" Pember, by Sir Edward Poynter, was! added to the’ famous collection owned by tho Society, Ho was also chosen to, ’ou the Perpetual Secretary of the Aca-i demio Committee recently lormcd in con-! nection with tho Koval Society of Literature.

Arnold Bennett and “The Card.” An amazingly clever fellow is Arnold Bennett, whose latest story, “The Card" (London: Mothuens; Vyeliington:l AVhitcombo and Tombs), I have just iin-| i-jhed reading. After Mr Bennett’s ‘ 014 AVives” ’Tales" and his “Clayhanger. with their unsparing realism and their prevailing tono or sombrenees. ‘ Ihe ’.hud" comes as a complete change, it is as if Mr Bennett had. tired of dealing with the drama, not to say the tragedy of life, and had sot himself the task of proving that he can shine just as brilliantly in light, satiric comedy. Back in tho “-Five Towns" (the Pottery District) once again, Air Bennett sketches the riso from obscurity and poverty to notoriety and affluence us Mayor of linrsley, of a young man. Edward Henry ilachin ("Denryj’ for short), who is just as choice a specimen of the genus bounder as can bo found in latter-day fiction, tn tho Black Country—and in Yorkshiro and Lancashire—to bo “a card” is to bo "a gay dog," a daring affronter of conversations, with, x>erhaps, a touch of personal eccentricity. Hut Air Bennett's hero is more than merely "a gay dog," a “bounder”; ho comes mightily near being a rogue. And yet the rascal prospers, and even in his prosperity is popular. Air Bennett gets some capital luu* out of the curious speculations by which tho os-solicitor's clerk rises first to tamo anti then to fortune. Henry's; clever.exploitation of the football mania* which rages perennially in the Midland 'uuutics is specially mirth-provoking. In

litcrary artistry "Tho Card" is far fro™ reaching the same plane on vCnicu stand “Tho Old Waves' Talc" and “Clayhangcr," Mr Bennett hinr-elf •would class it, I expect, as ix mere cffylioot And vari-; unt of a literarv talent, which finds wore > solid and permanent exemplification in',, the two books I have just mentioned,; but it is none tho loss a triumph ot ; broadly effective characterisation. The | character of Denry's mother, with her I rigid economv and the mingled pndo ana. fear with which she contemplates her smart-wilted son. rise steadily to what tho Black Country considers real fame, is a specially excellent bit of work.

“The Simple Life Limited.” Do vou want to chuckle, to chortle, to smile, to laugh, first quietly, and then, perhaps, later on, quite uproariously? Then turn. I pray you, to Mr Daniel Chaucer's amusing story, ‘Tho Simple Life Limited," which is published by Mr John J-aim. "Daniel Chaucer is, surely, a pseudonym, it hides, I venture to say, the identity of some novelist who i> by no means a prentice hand in fiction. If -Mr "Chaucer" bo indeed a new comer, then lie is to bo most heartily congratulated upon a novel a long way above the ruck of every-day fiction. Too story is nearly,’but not alb comedy. There is a touch of tragedy towards tho end which might well have, been avoided, for it jars upon tho predominant note of ironic humour. “Tho Simple Life Limited" is a story of fads and faddists. It is a book in which, 1 am afraid, but small pleasure will be found by Vegetarians, Nut Eaters, No(Breakfasiers, by devotees of Hygienic (Costume (either worn by males or fcliaaics), by the good folk who Hvo on sour milk and wholemeal biscuits* by iiirtists who adore the New Art or by admirers of the New Poetry—both of tho "utjb’rly utter" and completely incompro(hensiblo kind. The "Friends of Russian Theodora" will, I fear, specially denounce :it as an "unsympathetic" and "cruel" {book. It is "ah about," as children jsay. a community of "Simple Life" cranks who gather round a chief Apostle, one Simon Brandon, who is. in his saner iiaomontG, a very able writer, but who (weakly allows himself to be “run" as a Ig.cat Leader by a Pecksniffian humbug Jiuvoicd Gubb, who turns tho ‘chon-/' as it is slangily designated by one of the Ifevv sane persons in the story, a'London theatrical manager, into a Limited Lia* l ll.ility Company. Tho Philistine impres-J ‘eario tempts. I grieve to say, tho Great) (Leader's daughter, a handsome but er-i jiatic creature, from iier allegiance to fher father, tho "Cause." and the "Com{inanity," and eventually the settlement is broken up, but not before even Brans-; jdon himself has got - ‘heartily sick. of [Gubb'tj cleverly alternated blandish-’ (merits and builyings. The "Simple ■lnfers," with their nut-eating, their handioom weaving, their hideous pot-, lery, their uncoiun dress, and their un-l conquerable mania for meeting together ,aud spouting the most lamentable nonijyonse about Life, and Art, and Poetry—ad with capitals please—are a vastly jaia using lot of noodles, and Mr "Chaujeer" gets some rollicking, almost broad* My farcical fun out of their vagaries. J'xho children are specially awful exan.iptes of juvenile priggishness. . Cleverly contrasted with the "Simps Lifers" are )a good-natured country squire, an im(pccunious earl find his worldly wise wife, and some villagers of the class known in stageland as "comic countrymen." Also there is a mud Russian patriot (who capers about through the story just jas does tho "Polite Lunatic'* in "The, ■Belle of Now York." The story is a trifle too long, and the fun. towards tho end, a little wire-drawn, but when it is at its height it is very good fun. Fogazzaro'o Last Book. Antonio Fogazzaro, the Italian novelist who died ~a couple of months or so ago, has been called tho Italian Tolstoy and the Italian Be Maupassant. As a .matter of fact, he had very. little. in 'common with the great Russian writer and still less with the author of "line; Vie" and “Pierre ct Jean." He dabbled! in politics, it is true, and as a Modernist offended the Vatican just as much as, Tolstoy, offended Greek orthodoxy. But ho was no ascetic, like Tolstoy, and if like Do Maupassant, he was exception-

ally able in divining the workings of woman’s mind, he kept most laudably clear of the morbidity and pessimism which so lamentably tinged the French; author’s studies of the eternal feminine.; Fogazzaro was just beginning to be known and properly appreciated by English readers when he died. “Tho Saint", finado him a host of admirers all over, Europe, and was hailed in England with; special gratification as proving tho exist-; lence of a latter day school of Italian (fiction which was untainted by tho feverfish sonsuousness of D’Annunzio. “Leila” (London: Hodder and Stoughton; Wellington : Whitcombc and Tombs) is practically a sequel to “Tho Saint," but al-| though tho third of the series byl which Fogazzaro’s name will live, it can! |be read by itself, quite independently of its predecessors. It will be interesting to notice whether tho Vatican will taboo “Leila” as it tabooed “The. Saint," which offended the Church, so it is said, by its exposition, through- tho mouth: of a .“Liberal” priest, Benedetto, of Modernist views. In the new story we have a carefully, almost too carefully, detail-, cd study of a very complex character,, (that of' tho heroine, whose father and [mother are moral degenerates, and who, (for a time, herself loses faith in religion, albeit always possessed of transparent hqnesty of purpose and action.. The character, however, by which the ! story will live, is that of a kindly hearted. gentle-mannered, truly ' Cnristian priest. Don Aurelio, in whom it is said Fogazzaro personifies his ideal of the pnestly office and character. Donna Fidelc, too. “The White Lady of tho hoses." another prominent character in tho. life’s drama which the novelist slowly unfolds to our view, is a swcM and Itrulv noble figure of whom any novelist Imight well bo proud. A special feature .of the story is the series of charming ’pictures of Italian country life and character which serve as ,a background for the working out of an ingeniously constructed plot. There is less.insistence in this, the third and latest of Fogazzaro’s greatest novels, upon, matters oft purely ecclesiastical authority and discipline. U is understood that tho novelist acquiesced. to some extent at least, in the judgment passed by the Vatican upon "H Santo," but although thereis, in “Leila," no such open espousal of the Modernists’ cause as was to be found in tho former story, more than one problem which confronts ecdesia.sticisra of today is discussed. Hut the story, as a ,story, quite apart from any question of .Modernism or anti-Moclcrnism, fis a finished and penetrating study of human life and thought, and as,such if deserves the attention of all who have -a regard for the best in fiction, >

/From an illustration in Bulletin Iso. 3, of the iDominion Museum. See- “ Literary Letter.”) The Maripi represented above is, says Mr Hamilton, Director of the Dominion Museum, one of the most beautiful specimens of scarifyingknives ho has ever beard of. It was presented to the Salem Museum by a Captain William Richardson in tho _ year 1807; together with other apeci- * mens, oh a -return . from a whaling vovage. He probably' obtained it from the Bay. of . Islands. _ Mr Hamilton that the delicate nature, of tho enjtfiui;',! and the attachment of the shark-tdeth /unfortunately but necessarily, very faintly shown in tho illustration) forbid tho supposition that these knives were Lor ordinary cutting purposes, but it is known that they wipro used at tangis_for cutting and lacerating tho flesh in token of grief. .The custom is’ of_ great antiquity, land is forbidden in the regulations' presented for tho Jews in Leviticus and Job. Sc!iliemann,_ adds Mr Hamilton, notes that in his excavations at Hiesarlik he found sharp flakes 1 similar to those used at the present day in that region for ceremonial laceration. Tho common people would content themselves with a piece "of. sharp shell or obsidian. The Museum Bulletins. I am afraid that the admirable Bulletins, issued bv Mr A. Hamilton in connection with, the Dominion Museum, are not so widely known and fully appreciated’, as they deservo to be. 'They contain a perfect mine of interesting and (useful? information concerning Maori art. and antiquities, are beautifully printed, and illustrated, and should find a place! in every private library which _ has a, ®ew Zealand section. Tho edition is (limited, and in years to come co- io ! will be eagerly sought a'tr by co.-et-tors, but mav not be easy to find. .Number 111. of these Bulletins has just been issued, -■ the format being, as usual, a (handsome ’ quarto Tho contents include, a description by Mr Hamilton of thej Maori pa which was so notable a fea-i tore of the Christchurch Exhibition, and ; a long, well-iliustrated and in every way excellent article, practically on the_ same subject, but entitled “The Maori Pa: Scenes of Ancient Maoridom.” The author is that erudite, an'd ever-entertaining writer on Maori matters, Mr James .Cowan, who, I trust, may some day give •us a second instalment of the stories of 'Maori life in the olden days which were

published Inst year by Whitcombo and Tombs udder; the title “The Maoris.” Dr To Eangihoroa, ALB., writes on the Maori art of weaving cloaks, capes, and kilts, paying special attention to the work in this direction of tho Whanganui natives. Tho same writer describes some tattoo patterns from Alangaia and Aituataki in the Cook Group. Mr' Hamilton’s contributions are numerous. He gives notes on a model canoe from Alangaia, on the “peace" or ceremonial axes and slings used by the Cook Islanders, and describes seme New Zealand God-sticks, obtained originally from the natives by the late Uevcrend llichard Taylor, and on a carved Alaori burial chest found near Hokiryiga. Mr Hamilton also reproduces photographs of some

curious figures, carved in pumice rock and found in tho Chatham Islands, and of an exquisitely carved "manpi or scarifying-knifo, and a "pare," or caryoa door lintel, which are amongst: tho treasures ox the far away Salem -(Mass.) Museum. J.n both instances the work was. Mr Hamilton states, done before much European influence mui been brought to bear on tho designs -or methods oi work. Some further details as to the scarifying knife are added below Jio reproduction given in to-days “Times,

Some Maxims by “Mark Rutherford.” Those who know "Mark Rutherford's" earlier books will need no recommendation of mine that they should keep a look out for "More Pages from a Journal,** by that clever and mentally invigorating writer, which has recently been published by Henry Froupe for tho Oxford University 1 rp.-s. Hero are a few of “Mark Rutherford s later maxims: “The highest education is that winch leaches us to guide -ourselves by motives which arc intangible, remote, incapable ; oi’ direct and material appreciation. "Tho certainty which comes of intef■ligent conviction is a tempered certainty. Its possessor knows the difficulty ot the path by which lie has reached it, and the reasons which on his way ha’je appeared so potent against it. Lauaticism is tho accompaniment of conclusions which are not the result of reason. "Controversy is demoralising. Never (suffer yourself to become an advocate. [Never rely on controversy to convince. jSav what you have'to say and it. ■Do” it if you wish to persaude. "People are often unkind, not lioin gnalignitv, but from ineptitude/ : “What a vile antithesis is taat between [& man and his faults! If I love a man, II do not love his faults, for they arc abstractions. but I love tho man .in ins faults. Aro they not truly himself. He is often more himself in his faults than in his virtues." "Wo have no -capitalised happiness, nothing on which to draw when temporare sources fail.** "There is but little thinking, or per-i (haps it is more correct to say but little{reflection, in the Bible. There is profound sympathy with a few truths, but‘ideas are not sought for their own sake.; iCarlyle is Biblical. It has been said .‘scofnngly that he is no thinker, it is his glory that h© is not." „ . „ „ "What we have toiled after painfully; often lies unused. No opportunity oc-| curs for saying or doing a tithe of it., The hour demands its own special wis-i dom."

Plain or Annotated Texts? “Annotated School-books arc the very devil." says a writer in the July "Cornhill," "but tho remedy is easy—use plaiui texts." Whether others have found tmsi saying borne out by then* experience, Professor d>. A. Plater says iu his “Stories from Ovid's Metamorphoses, ' I do not know. But a good many teachers will probably hesitate bexoro. expecting beginners to read w.ch profit! any work in a foreign language in the: way in which Macaulay, read the classics in India. He used plain texts, and the. methods which he describes is no doubt) the ideal method —at a later stage. But! it has its perils, and there is food for reflection in "A.G.’s" ironical advice:—If vou should consult classics (and at times I think you must. Just to show thoy*s persons .whom its* quite impossible to trust). Do not seek the verbal meaning and theJ literal sense to render: Read them (like tho late Macaulay) “with, your feet upon the fender,"

The Art of the Opening. That famous art-critic the late R. A. M. Stevenson ouco told mo that lie and his still more famous cousin used to di-cuss tho most attractive openings to stories. “Bob" was wont to plead for a wayside inn, for (I think) the snow-; without, a roaring fire, and a little com-, pany assembled about it with a glass! ancTpipe. And that there is something indefinably fascinating about this setting it is impossible to deny. There is a lurei in its very contrast of cordfort and inclemency, in the age-long traditions of tho hostel, in its alleviation of' tho country wilderness, in its significance aa a- place of change and passing traffic, in its adventitious adventurousness, ns it were a trap to catclv' the flying incidents of fortune. R.L.S., ho.vr ever, held out for a seaport,as mignb .have been conjectured from his admirable use of such material, “the use of tar, that earnest of romance, 5 ’ a schooner or a brig, I'll dare swear with raking masts; and the green sea swelling round the wooden piles of some sea-' front or pier. Romance* has its own, roads to our hearts, and there is probably nothing to choose between them,' Yet we do choose. In the lengthening winter evenings I can picture myself: settling down in tho armchair before) the fire with a novel before me. which! begins in somo particular way for preference. I don't know that I would give the choice of. H-.L.S. a place above his cousin's. Either would captivate me in these hibernal moods. Even can I. fancy some such start as “Without, a] great wind, was roaring among the) trees. . . H. B. Marriolt-Watson,’ in the “Pall Mall Gazette."

Robert ’Hichens' New Story. , Robert Sickens, in his new novel. "The Dweller on the Threshold’’ (Wm. Heine-, imann),' returns to a subject he has al-( ready exploited in that striking story, "Flames, ’ to wit, the transference of ■souls, a subject, by the way, which was 'a. favourite one with Bulwer Bytton (ns his ‘‘Zanoni”). The new boot has not yet reached me, but Hr Hichens, ■I know, has many admiring readers in How Zealand who will bo interested in the description of the plot of "The Dweller on the Threshold, as given in London "Academy”: “The one character on whom tho story ihinges is the Rev. Henry Chichester, who at one time was properly described as a 'gentle and cherubic’ clergyman. IChichester becomes senior curate at So. Jude’s, under Marcus Harding, the .vicar. Chichester is as was in the hands of Harding, who is a - person of (great mental and intellectual power, as (well as of a potent personality. The ivicar. as a result of his wonderful power as a preacher, draws immense congregations to the morning services at St. Judes’. The senior curate, who preaches at l the evening service, delivers his discourse to empty pews. Shortly a marvellous change is observed. The vicar [loses all hold on his congregation, is ob-, (vionsly unmanned, and but a shadow intellectually of his former self. Simultaneously the cherubic curate develops, a strenuous personality, and is recognised as a preaober. forceful and powerful as Marcus Harding used to be. . - . Harding, apparently a devout . religionist and morally immaculate, is in reality neither. He is continually haunted by doubts and unbelief. He is not content with faith. He wants proof. In the hope of attaining his object, he makes use of his power over the gentle and malleable curate. He induces Chichester to take part with him in seances held at the curate’s rooms. To overcome the repugnance felt hy Chichester to this i suggestion, Harding persuades him that I his object is to transfer some of his power and personality to Chichester. The occult practices continue, with the result that the powerful personality of Harding is—not partially, but whollytransferred to Chichester. ■ Harding feels all his power slipping away from him, and instead of having the curate under his absolute control he himself becomes Chichester’s creature —under a ‘horrible subjection” to him. The result is not only the loss of all his force as a preacher, but also the loss of the love and respect of his wife. Lady Sophia (Harding's wife), in the days of her bushand’s 'strength cordially despised and hated Chichester, but as the strength and personality of her husband was gradually transferred to the curate her contempt and revulsion devolve on her husband, whom she incontinently leaves. Harding, endeavouring to attribute his

collapse to nervous dyspepsia, tries io oc*t away from the orbit of Chichesteh's influence. In vain. Chichester has only to make his will known, and his slave is bound to return —to grovel in his serfdom." # The Empire and its Language. In "Everybody's Weekly," a new weekly periodical somewhat on the lines of "Tabs Weekly," Mr H. G. ‘Wells makes an eloquent plea for liio English tongue as tho one great consolidating imperial force. He say,-*: —"The Empire must live by the forces that begot it. It cannot hope to give any such exclusive prosperity as a Zollvcroin might afford; it can hold out no hopes of collective conquests and triumphs —its utmost military role musk be the guaranteeing of a common inaggressivc security; but it can, and if it is to survive, it must, give all its constituent parts such a civilisation as non© of them could achieve alone, a civilisation, a wealth and fulne.ss of life increasing and developing with tho years. And m the first place the whole Empire must use the English language. I cm not mean that any language must be slumped out, that a thousana languages may not flourish by board and cradle and in lolk-songs and village gossip—Erse, the Taal, a hundred Indian and other Eastern longues, Canadian French—but 1 mean that also English must be available, that everywhere there must ba English teaching. And everyone who wants* Vo read science or. history or philosophy, to come out of the village life into wider . thoughts . and broader horizons, to gain appreciation in art, must find ready to hand, easily attainable in English, all there is to know and ail that has been said thereon. ... It is worth a hundred Dread[noughts and a million soldiers to the •Empire, that wherever there is a. curious ! or receptive mind, there in English and [by the imperial medium the fuli.thought ox the race should conic. To the ioneiy (youth upon, tho New_ Zealand sheep Ifarm, to the young Hindu, thougjitxni In some temple of Benares, to the trapper under a Labrador -tilt, to the haifjbreCd assistant at a Burmese oil-well, to the self-educating Scottish miner or the Egyptian clerk, the Empire and the (Englisn language should exist, visibly and certainly, as the media by whicn jhis- spirit escapes from his immediate {surroundings and all the urgencies of everyday, into a limitless fellowship of thought and beauty."

SOME REGENT FICTION

% (BY “LIBER.") "Account Rendered.’* By E. F. Benson. London: William Heineniann. Mr Benson always gives his public a: readable story. - Sometimes, as Climber," in “The Luck of the Vails," and “Au Act in a Backwater," he comesvery near to writing a really great novel. At others he is simply readable. “Account Rendered" falls into the second category. It is mainly notable for a ’clever portrait of a worldly and intense-’ f ly selfish woman. Lady Tenby, who isj .particularly anxious to - see her only sou,j a thoroughly good fellow, with not aj trace of selfishness in his soul, married to someone whoso money will enable Jiiirj to repair the Tenby fortunes —especially 1 her own share thereof: Tho ueroine.j Violet Allenby, a very beautiful andl clover girl, is a governess in the Win-' throp family when the Tenbys make her acquaintance, and is loved by the son of the house. Frank Winthrop, however,, has n mother and, a father, who desire! 1 him to make a better match, and finally’ tho young man returns to his work in Egypt, as much in love as ever, but having promised his parents cot to nrcss his suit for a year or so. But suddenly, Violet is left an immense • fortune, hair a million or .so. and i*i “taken up" by Lady Tenby—for a consideration of £3001) a year—and,becomes a personage. Frank, unaware of this change in tho young lady’s fortunes, writes to her, but tho cunning and unscrupulous Lady Tenby, whoso sou, by t]iis time, is at Violet’s fr-et—for her beaus yens, and not for her fortune, be it said to his credit—'•suppresses the letter, and does even •worse concocting a story of young Winthrop's engagement, and, later on. of hjs marriage to another young lady. Whereupon Violet, liking but not loving, the ■honest but not brilliant _ young ansto-i crat, consents to marry him. The wed-i ding over. Lady Tenby presumes somo-t •what on her position, but finds that her (daughter-in-law has both a mind and a ’will of her own. Certain monetary acd| very mean transactions are exposed, auaj the” climax comes when suddenly, to thoi horror-of tadv Tenby, Frank AV in throp turns up at Lord Tenby’s house. The old lady tries hard to prevent the truth coming out. hut in vain, and Violet, by this time recognising that she can. never love her husband, is doubly enraged. Poor Tenby is an unwilling witness to a scene in which tho youugeri ivoman completely ‘’bowls out” the elderarid tho honest fellow is besides himself 1 with shame over the deception- and treachery which had, .unknown to him, won him a wife and a fortune. The end is tragic, for knowing that his wife docs mot lovo him, and recognising that she Jlovea Frank, and that the old lovers (have been most foully mishandled, himself puts au end to an irreparable situ-, ation by committing suicide. Violet is - an agreeable heroine, but Frank Winthrop is a mere “walking gentleman” ,in the drama. Tho really live people are' tho intriguing Lady Tenby and the son, for whom, as Fate proved, she had schemed and sinned in vain. _

SHORTER NOTICES “Greed.” A good old-fashioned melodrama of tlicj approved "blood and thunder” ctampi could easily be compounded from thoi ultra sensational incidents in Mrs Connor Leighton’s story. "Greed” (Ward, Lock and Co., through S. and W. Mackay). To the villainous South African “diamond king,” Josh Oliver, blackmail, forgery, and murder all come quite natulally; in almost every successive chapter some new and unprecedented scounctrelism is unfolded. Oliver is aided in his rascalities by a cunning old "fence,” who, in his hours of leisure, masquerades as a highly respectable and philanthropic resident of a fashionable suburb. There is, of course, a much persecuted heroine, and, indeed, the whole story is redolent of the penny dreadful. “Greed” is terrible trash.

“The Money-Spider.” Mr Le Queux breaks new ground in his latest story,. "The Money-Spider” (Loudon and Melbourne : Cassell and Co.; Wellington: S. and W. Mackav). for once deserting his favourite Italy for Norway, the Norway of the North Cape and to the east thereof. But though the nationality of his characters is changed, his puppets dance to much the same old' tune. Peter Sundt, the wicked millionaire magnate, is of an old and familiar type of rascaldom, and his tool, , the kind-hearted, though weak, Captain Berentson, I seem to have met before under another name. But the heroine, Thyra, is more than usually charming, and as a story of purely sensational interest the novel has its merits. The Le Queux public is never over exigeant, and seems to like whatever its industrious caterer may choose to supply- ‘ “Dolores.” 1 "Dolores,” by Ivy Compton Burnett (Loudon and Edinburgh: Wm. Blackwood and Sons), is a somewhat gloomy but well-written story of a woman’s self-sacrifice. ‘‘Dolores” is a heroine with whom the reader cannot fail to have a very genuine sympathy. She is surrounded,” practically ‘ throughout her life, by. some of the most selfish, can-, tankerous, conceited, and utterly objectionable people that. I have mot with in recent fiction aud her story, a story

of constant self-abnegation and cheerful t-urrepder -to a Fate, generally more malign than kindly,/ makes, on the whole, rather dreary reading. Hero and there are compensations—for the reader at least—for Miss Burnett’s satirical touches are decidedly clever and her characters are lifeline and not mere marionettes. 'Where the author fails to interest, or perhaps. I should say, where she is less attractive, is in the’ too carefully elaborated narrative. The conversations are brisk and convincing, but the connecting narrative is heavy ahd drags not a little.

“The Lord of the Dollar. 11 “The Lord of the Dollar, 1 " by Harper Curtis (London and Edinburgii: "Win. Blackwood), is not, a< might be imagined, a Chicago pig-lord or a Pittsburg steel trust- king, hut a rascally Spaniard, a priest by profession, a thorough-going scoundrel by nature and design. Tho story opens in Spain, but the author speedily transports us to a mining district in Mexico where a burly ruffian, an American mining engineer, loves but is not loved by a gentle and Completely charming Spanish maiden, whose mother lh© rascally jmdre blackmails and persecutes in the most disgraceful way. The padre and the Americano outwit each other in turn, but in the end honours are made easy, both rascals dying together in an ancient subterranean passage, and the sweet Seuora finds happiness with a handsome Englishman, yThe plot is tangled but exceedingly ingenious, and the story is full of exciting incidents. This is an exceptionally original and very readable story. / “The Needlewoman.’*

Tu “The Needlewoman''\(London : Mills ami Boon; Wellington; .Whitcombe v and Tombs), Miss Winifred Graham, who dabbled so successfully in the occult in her much discussed first” novel, “Mary," now introduces her readers to a reincarnation of no less a x jei ’Bonage than jtho famous Queen Cleopatra. One jstormy night, a large fissure appears in {“Cleopatra’s Needle" on the Thames Embankment, duel a few days later a {mysterious lady- of Venus-like beauty, (and, apparently, as- wealthy as half a dozen Rothschilds, calls upon an ini‘pecunious aristocrat. Lady lugilreagh, and propos'es., that the titled dame shall introduce the fair and much-gilded lady, Mrs R-ommo, to fashionable society. And so it comes to pass that Mrs Homme rents the Marquis of .So-and-so's great mansion in Park Lane and gives superb entertainments to the pery ‘'’naicest" people. An Antony is, of course, necessary/ and is forthcoming in the person ct Colonel Cardew, a beau militaire, who i—contrary to the traditions of his profession. —is a woman-hater. How CarIdew is enthralled, how Mrs “Cleopatra’* Jtomme befriends some people and snubs others, and how, finally, after having given a masked ball, followed by tableaux vivanl«!, in which the glories and orgies of ancient ■ Egypt, are reproduced, ©he disappears as mysteriously as she had first appeared, is very«cleverly told. "Made in Australia,** There must he a steady and profitable ©ale for. cheap “Australian-made" fiction, judging by 'the regularity with which the Now • South ‘Wales Bookstall Company continues to issue new volumes of 1 their well-known shilling series of Australian fiction. Recent additions are “Billy Pagan, Mining Engineer," by Randolph Bedford, ‘and “Tom Pagdin, Pirate," by Edwin J. Brady. Mr Bedford could" not well be dull even were he to try, and his story is 'a yarn of the “rattling" kind, full of exciting incidents in mining life/ and blazing with warm, almost lurid, local colour. Mr Brady's story tells of the adventures of a Tom Sawyer-like young gentleman who is just as enterprisingly audacious in his quest and conduct of adventure as was even Mark Twain's hero. Both stories make good reading for a,tram or steamer journey. Lionel Lindsay's illustrations to Mr Brady's yarn arev vigorously drawn, but the Lindsay family seem to be obsessed by an unconquerable mania for drawing men and women almost brutal ugliness. Percy Spence “does" the pictures for Mr Bedford's hook, and, needless to say, does them very well. . . .A third Australian production is “Collar and Cuffs, the Adventures of a Jackeroo," by “St. Claire iGrondona" (Melbourne: George'Robertson and Co.) The volume contains a series of vigorously written and readable enough sketches of life “up-country” in Queensland, All three volumes are published at the democratic shilling.