BOOK NOTICES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 11809, 11 August 1900, Page 10

BOOK NOTICES.

Baden-Powell, the Hero of Mafeking." By V\ T. Francis Aitlcen. London: S. W. Partridge and Co. Dunedin: Whitcombe and Tombs ; Is 6d net.

This pleasant little volume gives us a •ketch of the career of the now famous

"8.P.," and although h. contains nothing of a striking or personal nature, and very little which has not already, appeared in print in one form or another, it is now presented to us in a useful and compendious shape, handy for reading or reference. Air Harold Begoie, in a recent contribution io the Pall Mall Gazette, gave a' picturesque account of Colonel Baden-Powell's early days, which has been extensively quoted in all the' papers, and of which the present writer makes use, telling us how " 8.-P. and his brothers were model children, whose ruling passion was the acquisition of knowledge, :' how his masters became "his slaves," and how at school and at college lie proved himself a " born ruler ,of boys," as he afterwards proved of men. This, with -a keen sense of humour and .an in-born love of fun, are among our hero's most striking peculiarities, and have earned for him some of those pet names which are never given to any but lovable natures: "P. 8;," "Old Bathing-Towel," " Bread-and-fowl," " Bath-Brick," and many others of the same kind. But under the surface lies the deeper nature of the student, the.' naturalist, the keen observer of men and manners, the man who sees ' the weak points in his own armour as well as in that of his enemies, the clear-sighted commander, the tireless scout, who passed half his nights on the lone veldt studying the position of the enemy, and thinking out his own plan of campaign. Such is the true man, as this little memoir shows him, many-sided,' full of seeming contradictions, and yet for this very reason the hero of 'Mafeking and of the whole British nation.' Robert S. S. Baden-Powell is the son of a famous student and philosopher, whose work on the "Plurality of Worlds" is wellknown. His father, however, died when Robert was only four years of age, and our hero with four' brothers and one sister were, brought up by the clever mother whom he idolises. All the brothers have earned names for themselves, winning "distinction as if they came to it by inheritance," which no doubt they did. And their sister, Miss D. S. Baden-Powell, is a brilliant and versatile woman, noted for her proficiency in many arts, and. specially skilled in silver repousse' work. "8.P."" himself has written several fascinating books—" The Matabele Campaign," " Pig-sticking," " Reconnaissance and Scouting," "Aids to Scouting," etc. The two latter being of great importance, as showing his opinion of this too often. neglected branch of the service. 8.-P. has been always "preparing" and is an ardent believer in the gospel of work '"for pleasure or for profit." As might be expected he is also a lover of those pithy compendiums of wisdom called proverbs. Some of his favourite mottos are *' Don't hurry:

patience gains the day." "A smile and a stick will cany you through any difficultj^." And in war lie lias adopted the refrain of the Ashanti war-song:

If I go forward, I die. If I go backward, I die. Better go forward and die. That such a man sliould be esteemed and admired by ■ his equals and fairly worshipped by those under him is not surprising, nor is .it surprising that as a military iconoclast he was less beloved by the authorities in the Red Tape Office, whose business it is to do everything in the most truly conservative manner ; so that at one time his recognition and promotion seemed doubtful. But the opportunity came, and with it the man', and in the hour of need 8.-P. proved himself the "right man in the right place," holding the eyes of Europe for six months on a little frontier African town that .was scarcely marked on any map, and seemed to the bulk of,mankind as "of no importance." The latter half of this volume, which deals. with the now famous siege and siege details will be read with the keenest interest. It 'shows how much one man can do, and how impassible

it is to over-estimate the personal influence of a great man on his surroundings: for however much the methods of warfare may have changed, it still remains true that the greatest general is he who best knows how to put his own qualities into his soldiers by example even more than precept. When such a commander is found, followers will never be long absent. Happy is the country that is able to recognise such heroes and put them in their right places!

Joan of the Sword Hand." By S. R. Crockett. London: Ward, Look, and Co. Dunedin: Braithwaite. (Colonial

Library ; boards 3s 6d, paper 2s 6d. A delightful romance by one of our modern masters of the art, and in his very best style. Full of fighting and adyenture, of plot and counter-plot, and yet with only enough of horror to stir the pulses of the reader to a pleasing tremor, for—as should be the case in every true romance—right conquers might, and we have the " good ending" still dear to ■ the hearts of most ncvel-readers. Joan' herself is a charming

girl, bold, daring, courageous, an excellent swordsman (or woman), beautiful as a dream. Joan, at the age of 18, reigns as sovereign Duchess of Kernsberg, and sways the hearts of men by her beauty and courage. But she is.wilful too, or she would not be a woman ; and finding herself betrothed to a neighbouring Prince, whom' she has never seen, she insists in going to Courtland in disguise to see her"future lord. From this ill-advised action all her troubles proceed. By mistake she .sees, and falls in love with, the wrong man —the Prince's younger brother Conrad. She returns home joyfully anticipating the marriage she had before dreaded, but when the appointed day comes and the betrothed meet at the altar, Joan, not raising her eyes until the fatal words are said, finds that she has married the wrong man. The complications thence arising are of the acutest kind. Joan bids her husband farewell at the cathedral door, and, calling her brave knights, rides back to her fortress, where she is in due time besieged by the combined forces of Courtland and Moscovy. How she escapes from this impasse, and finds a refuge in the Isle of Rugen with its strangely beautiful mistress ; how by a series of fortuitous accidents Conrad is shipwrecked on the same island, all this skein is first carefully tangled, and then as skilfully imtangled. There are many side issues, the most amusing of which spring from the existence of an unknown, and, for a time, unacknowledged, half-brother of the Duchess, who1 is so absurdly like her that they are able to change place and masquerade in each other's garments to the no small confusion of friends and enemies. Altogether Mr Crockett's last book is good reading: a well-written, exciting story, with a dash of humour, plenty of incident, some beautiful idylic love scenes, and withal a good wholesome tone in accordance with the old Norse prayer " Make our maidens brave and our

voiiths ' gentle." It should command a success equal to, if not in excess of, his previous efforts. " They that Walk in Darkness." By I. Zaiigvrill. London: W. Heinemann. (Colonial Library, boards 3s 6d. paper 2s 6d.) These marvellously realistic stories are well-named "Ghetto Tragedies.'' Never since Rudyard Kipling's " Life's Handicap " have we read such a strong restrained protest against racial disabilities and the re- j morsjeless fate which dogs some nations j throughout the pages of history. Truly has the poet sung: The wild dove hath her nest, The fox his cave, Mankind his country, Israel, but the grave. And these stories of modern Judaism are full of such.inexpressible pathos, such deeprooted despair, lighted here and there by sublime faith, that we feel them to be historically true in the delineation, though tho actual incidents may never have occurred. Mr Zangwill is a true artist. He writes from within. Where other men see only the coarse and common incidents «of a vulgar every-day life he sees the divine germ, the pathos and the beauty that lie beneath: and oven as he sees it, he makes us see it. The saving leaven of true love, sublime faith, heroic self-sacrifice, which sweeten and vitalise the existence of the despised Jew, dwell for us in his pages, and it would be well indeed if other despised and misunderstood people could find as brave and true a chronicler. Of the nine tales contained in this volume, we know not which to commend most. All are good, very good : but we think that " The Keeper of Conscience" shows an insight into a woman's heart that is little^short of miraculous ; and the same may be said of the "Diary of a Meshwnad." Only here it is the heart.of a.father and a renegade that is.dissected for our .benefit. Zangwill has already come.to great honour, but scarcely so high as he deserves, and we venture to predict still greater things for him in the' future.

"The Cambric Mask." By Robert W. Chambers. London: Macmillan and Co. Dunedin: Braitliwaite. (Colonial Library, boards 3s 6d, paper 2s 6d.) This is an amusing story dealing with a side of American life that is but little known. It is written by a lover of Nature, and a keen observer of men. Life in a frontier district in the Far West, where law and order are but lightly enforced, introduces us to some curious situations and shows us some characters that it would be hard to find in more civilised positions. Doubtless the- proprietors of the Sweet Fern Distillery are not the only men who desire to take a mean .advantage of the " other side," but their methods are so undisguised and so primitive that they arouse in- us as much amusement as contempt. One of the rascals confesses that he " never knew an honest man very intimately," and the reader feels the simple truth of the remark. The best parts of the book are distinctly those which treat of Nature in the wilds,

the " breathless sense of expectancy in the summer woods" ; the " Paradise of silence," where the sap is heard. !< mounting ■ silently amid "the still creeping of tiny efts, the noiseless unfolding of blossoms, and. the soundless fall of the wind-flowers' petals, settling on golden moss," which do not break " the 'harmony of waking life." A field of clover, a field of sweet fern, the blue dusk falling "like velvet,',' the butterflies, the beetles, the strange creatures of the forest and the plain, are depicted for us with the sympathetic touch qf a master, a born and trained naturalist, who, in this disguise, gives some of his own observations. The episode of the WLite Riders, from which the book takes its name, is neither original nor Striking, having played its part too often ill Irish history, and is the weakest point of the story, which, however, as a study of a little known phase of frontier life and manners is decidedly worth reading. . '