BOOKS.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 10306, 13 March 1895, Page 2

BOOKS.

A Child's Garden of Verses. By R. L. Stevenson. London i Longmans and Co. Underwoods. By R. L. STBVBN3ON. London : Chatto and Windus. In our review of. Mb Tide a few days ago, in estimating Stevenson's work, we somehow omitted —whal; we had certainly intended — to pay oar tribute to the merits of the: novelist's style. It doss not much J matter, because though we acknowledge the j charm of his style, we are obliged to confess ] that we do not know exactly where the j charm lies; the charm would be gone! if we did. He is terse and precise, for one thing; picturesque for another. Having read much French he has stolen a little of the Gallic grace. He does not wasta words, except when a certain prodigality befits the occasion. Then he throws them abont with a fine generosity; and you value them, because you fesl that he docs not fling you the first word that cornea handy: Stevenson inp&riably uses le mot trouve. A friend of ours, and presumably an admirer of Stevenson, has sent us f,wo of his volumes of verse. As regards Underivoods wo are, so to speak, as we were. It is all graceful verse-making : Cowpsr might have written some of it; a little of it might pa3s for Tennyson; and some of the dialect pieces are clever enough for Burns. It wonld be higher praise, however, if one could say—"These,or those are Stevonsonian, and no echo of anybody," which is precisely what can be said about A Child's Garden of

Verses— one of the really original volumes of

verse of this century. Swinburne loves children, and, we believe, understands them; but Swinburne, so far as we know, has never succeeded to the same extent as Stevenson in contsmplaticg childhood from the child's standpoint. When Swinburne writes a child song he does it strictly en pere. But Stevenson is himsslf the child. If a child had the gift of finished poetical ezpresnion, bat retained tha infantile simplicity of thought and emotion, ha would write just the kind of verse we have in A Child's Garden. It may not be lyric work of the highest kind, bnt, of its kind, it is easily first: for instanc3 My Shadow. I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the uso of him is more than I can 83e. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head ; And I see him jump before me when I jump into my bod. The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow— Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an indiarubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all. He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close baside me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup ; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepyhead, Had stayed at home behind me and waß fast a3kep in bed. Or this: Auntie's Skirts. ! Whenever auntie moves around, I Her dresses make a curious sound 1 Thay trail behind her up the floor, And trundle aster through the door. Or this: Singing. I Of epeekled eggs the birdie sim»s, And nests amon; the trees ; The sailor sings of ropes and things In ships upon the seas. The children sins in far Japan, : The children sing in Spain; The organ with the organ man • Is singing in the rain. i Or this: 1 Looking Forward. When I am grown to man's estate I stall be very proud and great, And tell the other girls and boy 3 Kot to meddle with my toys. The Good Ship MoTioch. By W. ClAck BrrssEiiL. London: Cbatto and Windns. j Duueain: Wise, Caffin, and 00. j

This book is quite in the Clark Russell manner to which we have grown so used. A ship, a queer captain, a gallant woman, a gallant man to be her lover —these are the dramatis persona with which Mr Kusssll invariably fnrnishe3 forth his story. But he contrives to vary his combinations, and this ia decidedly a readable yarn.

TJie JSeU-Binger of Angel's, etc. By BHBT Haete. London: O.iatto and Wiudus. Bunedin: Wise, Oaffin, and Co. The Bell-Ringer and the other American stories of this volume ara of the kind that only Bret Harte can write—the lineal successors of The ImcTc of Roaring Camp. Of these we like best the tale called "Johnnyboy," Jobnnyboy is one of those infants recognisable for the brood of Bret Harto wherever they are sesn. All Brat Harfce's infants arc of the terrible kind—terrible and delightful. Johnnyboy did not like ini!k. It made him sick, and he said so to the amusement of the Crustacean Hotel, for whoso still further amusement the Eav. Mr Belcher attempted to " take a rise " out of Johnnyboy. Approaching the high chair in which Johnrjyboy was dyspeptically reflecting, with a ponderous wink at the other gnests, and a fafc thumb and forefinger on Johnnyboy's table, he leaned over him, and with slow, elephantine playfulness, said: " And so, my dear young friend, I undsrstand that ' mik makes you sick — inik does.'"

Anything approaching to tha absolute unlikecess of this imitation of Johr.nyboy's accents it is impossible to conceive. Possibly Johnnyboy felt it. Bat be simply lifted his lovely lashes, and said, with great distinctness : " Mik don't—you devil 1" Afcer this, one is glad to know that Johnnyboy grew up to be a man, and turned out a fine fellow.

A History of English Literature. By J. Logic 'Robertson, M.A. Edinburgh and

London: Blackwood and Sons.

This is a text book of literature written to meet the requirements of young people prflpariag for the leaving certificate, the university local, and other examinations. " The book is published," says its author, " for the use of secondary schools and private student?," ia the belief that the want of a new text book of literature is pretty generally felt. The text book is a compendium o£ English literature from the year 449 up to the present time—a space, that is to say, of 1416 years. We have serious doubts as to whether euch a test book for schools ought to exist at all, It is the old

question as to whether it is desirable that pupils should know about authors—without knowiDg, at first hand, the authors' work. No doubt there is a certain small modicum of knowledge which it may be deeirable to have about certain authors even if we have not road their works. Thus the broad facta of Homer's or Dante's history might be expected to be within the knowledge of every well-informed man, even if be had not read the poams of either. Cat when we leave " woilu-aathors " and come to second, third, and fourth-rate authors in our own literature, that is quite another matter. It seems to us that amongst the most barren kinds of knowledge is the knowledge of names of authors, works, periods, &c., without a firsti hand knowledge of the works themselves, I Can anyrhing be more dishonest, for instance, ;on the part of a pupil than to retail, at ; second-hand, criticism of an author he haa not read 1 However, if it be granted that ; such handbooks of literature aie required at '; all, Mr Robertson's seams to us well done. '< It may bo described as chronological, ; biographical, synoptical, analytical, and i critical, and if all these Greek adjectives j fail to do it sufficient justice, the following I sample of the author's style of treatment may to some extent make gocd the defect. " Ona of the most striking featufea of tba j ample work oi Tennyson is the great range |of his themes. They are mostly EnglishEnglish characters, English incidents, English landscapes. And next after his j English subjects is hia preference for classical ones. A not le3s striking feature oc his poetry is the great variety o£ bis measures. There is scarcely a kind he has not tried, and he has been successful in all. Hehas besides invented new rhythms, and discovered—even in blank versa—new harmonies. No poet has equalled him in the power of adapting style to subject: invariably with Tennyson subject and stylo are hand in glove. The general characteristics of his style are pictorial clearness, musical smoothness, and rich, often romantic, melody." Though we do not qnite understand what "rich" or "romantic" nieana, as applied to melody, this criticism is on the whole sound enough. Some of Ihe lists in this book are useful and interesting. The last is a chronological list o£ soma of the principal books published in each year from 1789 to 1891, from which list we niak3 the startling inference that the most conspicuous names in the literature of tho last 10 years are Lang and Stevenson.

Seven Little Australians. By STHBL S. Ttjknbb. London: Ward, Lock, and Bowden.

This story is somewhat in the way of Miss Alcott's " Little Women," as we suppose all books mnst be that treat of the family life of a number of children. There are seven o£ these young Australians—the eldeat being 16. Indeed, there were ei(*hfc, for there was a stepmother of 20, hereelf almost as great a child as any of them. This is really a very clever and a very amnsing book. We like the first half of it best. Nobody, unless he were hopelessly bilious, could read this part of the boob without bubbling over with sincerest laughtsr. The second "half is, to our thinking, not so good. Why ia the world must every woman who writes about children kill one of them 1 It is not incumbent; on every authoress to be pathetic ; and to kill her child, too, in such a cock-and-bull fashion t However, we can recommend this as a really entertaining book—barring the killing,