BOOK NOTICES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 15099, 23 March 1911, Page 2

BOOK NOTICES.

" The" M'Ardle Peerage." By Evelyn Tempest. London: Hodder and Stoughton. Dunedin: R. J. Stark and Co. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.)

This is. a; clever and amusing bcok of unusual merit. Angus M'Ardle, of M'AriJls and M'Ardle, Rangoon, Further India, is a great man in the land of bis adoption, where he occupies a position in the public eye little less than vice-regal. At the age of 41 he has already amassed a fortune of over a milion, and he very wisely determines to spend the remainder of his life in enjoying the fortune that he has, rather than in endeavouring to increase it. The story takes him up just as he is bidding adieu to his friends on board the big steamer in Singa.pore harbour. They give him a splendid send-off— "nothing bigger has been eeen there" —and his heart swells with the legitimate pride of the self-made man who knows himself the sole architect of his fortunes and of the place that he holds in the estimation of his fellow men. The. captain admits him, as by right, to the sacred bridge, and apologises because he cannot place him at his right hand at table, but must give that honour to a travelling peer. He consoles the retired merchant, however, with the words, " M'Ardle's M'Ardle wherever he sita." When M'Ardle tranships to the P. and 0. boat at Bombay, he is not invited on the bridge, and the steward asks how he "spells his . name." On .board the Panama, from Melbourne, his name awakens no gleam of recognition, and his table-neighbour asks whether Burmah is an island. But the travelling peer still keeps his place and his prestige. And M'Ardle discovers that a colonial magnate has to "explain himself" when he gets home: but that "' a handle to your name' explains itself." He resolves to obtain the handle. He makes inquiries, and finds that " handles" are purchaseable, though not perhaps in the open market. He is introduced to a leading politician, and discovers that an experiment in Socialism would probably bring him into favour with the powers that be. He takes no interest in politics, and does not even know who is "in" or who is "out." Moreover, he despises Socialism with the honest contempt of'the strong individualist who has engineered his own fortune, and knows how it was done. But he is determined to write the magic word "Lord" before the prosaic M'Ardle,and is strengthened in this determination by his desire to win the hand of Mrs Renton, a widow lady, with a grown-up daughter, whom he had known years before in India, and to whom he is veiry sincerely attached. She hesitates, however, to accept the burly, good-tempered egoist whose " table manners are so abominable." M'Ardle is not a bit of a snob. He is honest and open as the day. Shrewd, kind-hearted, generous, extremely; practical, he is well aware of his own short-comings, and, finding that money will not gild them, is convinced that a peerage will. Though he is no believer in Socialism, he accepts the responsibility of financing a settlement up to fifty thousand pounds. He is then introduced to a man named Purefoy, whose very name is an allegory, and whose character is most beautifully conceived and drawn: a dreamer, a visionary, a pure idealist, whose whole soul is wrapped up in great humanitarian theories. ' Principle's of Equality, Fraternity, Universal brotherhood, Community of goods fill his mind. He is a man in advance of his age, who docs not realise that the world is not yet ready, for the gospel in which lie so ardently believes. .He gladly gives all that he has, even life itself, to the Cause —another of the vast army of pioneers which is so often another name for the Army. of Martyrs. Thenceforth the story is largely filled with details concerning the working of the Socialist Settlement of Dawnland. These details are given with kindly humour, and a strong seni:e of the ridiculous, and yet -with an underlying comprehension and sympathy which add greatly to the effect. One by one the initial difficulties rise up to meet the enthusiast, The women's dress, the children's toys, are not less difficult of adjustment on communal principles than the hours of labour for the men who are born loafers and "slackers," and the equitable distribution of funds between those who work and those who can't or won't work. Is a man entitled to any personal property on these lines, and if so, what? That is the crucial question. It' is at last decided that each " Comrade" is entitled to his or her own clothes, since Nature has " turned them out' irom such various sized moulds that it is obviously inexpedient, il not impossible, to exchange garments, A man's pipe and tobacco and a woman's little ornaments, on the other hand, are not so obviously non-interchangeable, and Purefoy learns to be grateful that nobody wants his tooth brush. The inner difference is not less marked than the outer. Brown spends all his 6teength in talk; Bell spends all his in work, Hargill loafs under the hedge, and Purefoy throws himself into the breach and does all that others decline to do. There is a middle class who will work when they are made to work, but " who shall make them, since no man has authority over another." The author acknowledges her indebtedness to the official papers relating to William Lane's " Now Australia" experiment in 1893,(the details concerning which will be fresh in many minds,. She does .not, however, slavishly reproduce those details. Very truly she says, "No two authorities on Socialism teach exactly the same doctrine," for nowhere is the individualism which they condemn more strongly shown than in the presentment of their own " principles." The author is clever enough to see this, and to depict it in a humorous and telling manner. Evelyn Tempest is a new writer, and the " M'Ardle Peerago" is a first novel. It is a long way above the common, and is well deserving of wide and immediate popularity.

"The Unforeseen." By May Stewart Cutting. London : Hoddcr and Stoughton, Dunedin : The New Zealand Bible, 'Pratt, and Book Depot. (Illustrated, 3s 6d, 2s 6d.)

Intuition and a, delicate feminine touch mark the work of May • Cutting. She frankly gives us the woman's point of view, and even in the characters of her men never attempts to depict that side of the masculine character which does not ccm-i into touch with society or domesticity. In this way she avoids miiiy pitlulls into which'unwary chronicles are apt to fall. Evelyn Gaynor lives alone in a New York flat, and is employed on a small magazine, " The Infant." She is not exactly obliged to earn her own living, but sho prefers to do so rather than lead the narrow, penurious life of a country township, where nothing unforeseen eveir happened. Wearying of a narrow, uneventful existence, die came to the city—" at that call of the Unforeseen which had drawn thousands of other girls thither, who like herself were now flocking home in twos and companies through long avenues and narrow side streets, thoir feathered hats dipping as they walked, and their thin faces alight with the excitement of being free after work \va.s over, . . . The glamour of the

Unforeseen waG befoie the eyes of all. It was that that hired. To bo in l'uio at least with the unexpected little pleasure, the unexpected treat, the unexpected merry ending to the day, as well a& the great things, Money, Success, Love." Well does the writer understand the heart, of a girl. Many of Evelyn's experiences a,ro undoubtedly autobiographical. Up to the ttmo vi.o the story commences nothii'u b'u' hiw-jnw! to her. Nicht after

night as she letiirr.cd to her pretty little | flai. she formed visions of the Unforeseen which she vaguely fell to be awaiting her in future. " Her imagination rioted in the impossible. . . • Suppose she were to go home to her empty little fiat and find the tiny living room filled with red roses which somebody had sent. . . Suppose . there should bo a nolo of invitation to a gay impromptu party,"—anything to bring change, colour, excitement, into her grey life. Evelyn is indeed a type of thousands of girls both at home and abroad, wearying of narrow domestic duties, of. office drudgery, longing far life, and yet more life. But not for all, or nearly all, is the delightful awakening'in store which comes with the perfect love of the "one Man" to Evelyn Gaynor, to whom the "Seen" becomes even better'than the "Unforeseen." The story is prettily told, the character of the heroine being unusually sweet and attractive-. Evelyn's little schemes to dress and look her best, to provide cheap but dainty feasts for he" friends, to gild the little economies of daily life with brush, pencil, and needle will prove quite as interesting to the feim'. nine reader as her heart experiences. "The Unforeseen" should indeed prove quite as popular as any of May Cutting's previous books, of which a goodly list stands to her credit, all touching on themes perennially young and attractive.

"A Day with Beethoven." By May Byron. " A Day with Schubert." By May Byron. " A Day with Mendlessohn." By George Sampson. London : Hoddea' and Stoughton. Dunedin : Bible, Tract, and Book Depot. (Cloth, illustrated in colour, Is 6d.) A day with a musician is surely a day well spent, and when that musician gives you of his best as interpreted by a sympathetic literary man or woman, then that day becomes indeed a treat. In the two works contributed to this series by Miss May Byron, she gives us many details about the composer's method of work, and not a few able criticisms of the work itself, its scope and intention. Thus, when speaking of Beethoven, she tells us that: " Work was his starting point, his course, his goal; work was his whole raison-d'-etre, the very meaning and object of Ms existence; but his restless, sensitive mind was apt to magnify molehills into mountains, and the most trifling inconvenience into a serious obstacle to wcrk." Thus he was alwarys moving from one lodging to another, an 3 never made himself a home, though he was always loinging for one, and . never married, though he desired domesticity. He was "a passionate lover of Nature, and wrote everything as he composed it in notebooks, mostly out-of-doors, far from any instrument." And, as he was " the best pianist of his day, besides being a consummate master of the science of music, he had no need to put his work to the piroof." His ever-increasing deafness rendered it more and more compulsory to depend on " that inner world of harmony at work within his brain"; and caused him to be entirely independent of the outer world of sense. She compares a day in the life of Beethoven to one of that master's own wonderful compositions,, quoting in support of her words Wagner's comparison of the great Quartet in C. sharp minor from its melancholy Adagie— " in itself a prayeT," to its splendid ending, which " blinds with excess' of light." Schubert is no lees sympathetically touched, and the disabilities of the great master, whose treasure was certainly " in an earthen vessel," are lightly touched and made of little account, while his poverty, industry, and many privations are duly admired and dwelt on. The words, "he never received so much as £100 a year," arouse the reader's earnest sympathy. . Schubert was often in love, but never married—indeed, he had nothing to marry on, though he indulged "in a hopelers passion for a beautiful girl of 17, daughter of Count Esterhazy," and one of his first pupils. Mr Sampson's method is a little different from that of his colleague. He gives many of his details concerning Mendelssohn, the form of a conversation between the master and 6ome of his friends;— David, the violin-

ist; Sterndald Bennett, the English composer; Schumann, "who divided'the musi- J cat firmament of Leipzig with Mendelssohn himself"; and several others of less note. This conversation is made the medium for some able criticisms of the composer's chief works. Compared with Beethoven and Schubert, Mendelssohn was

a happy and prosperous man. He had good private means, his surroundings were refined and cheerful, his woTk was appreciated in his own time, and he had a large circle of admiring friends. His talents were also very varied: he was no mean artist with ithe brush, and his musical criticisms were above mediocrity. /He also paid sincere homage to the gTeat men who had preceded him—Bach, Mozart,' Beethoven, Schubert. Bach was, however, his chief hero, and he thought him "the greatest of musicians." All the

books are beautifully illustrated by wellknown artists, reproduced at the Bushey Colour Press (Andre and Sleigh), and each forms a delightful souvenir of a great artist, and constitutes an ideal gift book.