LITERARY NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2008, 18 August 1892, Page 45

LITERARY NOTES.

A British consul in China, Dr James Scatty wh 3 has written the first Coreatr grammar, declares that the Corcan language is efdrt more difficult than the Chinese. He estimates its age at 4000 years.

Dramatists in France usually get 12 por cent, of the gross receipts of each play, and are allowed tickets to the value of lOOfr for every performance of such plays as thoy ha\e written.

Of Mrs Humphry Ward's last book — "David Grieve"— ll,ooo copies, it is said, were disposed of before publication. Tho book has evidently proved a little fortune for both publisher and author.

11 The Soul of Lilith" is teiribly trounced in the Jjnenumber of the Novel Review by Mr Philip Hearno, who, however, describes it as " the novel of the month."

M Renan says that he made the discovery over 40 years ago that by the writing of amusing works one grows sad, and that the best way to remain merry is to write on serious subjects.

A diaty begun more than three centuries ago by the Hogaka farrii'y of Japan has been kept up continuously by the various heads to whose Charge it was committed, until tho volumes now fill tight largo chests.

Mr Routledg?, the publisher, is credited with having said, in reply to a remark that '■ Sbelloy is not read nowadays," " I dare say not, but he is bought, and that is all I have to do with." But what poet is read nowadays, except bj the few — the very few?

Mr Andrew Lang, in Longman's, speaks of n, gentleman who long ago was disinherited by his father for having written a burlesque of Homer. Ho declues that his sympathies are with the stern parent, for " Homer is not a subject for face'iousness."

According to the PaII Mall G.izctta literary note-isfc, Mr Hall Came has signed agreements for three novels- 1 , receiving in advance over £7000. That looks like good business, especially as the novels arc not yet written. It is mentioned that of the aheap edition of the novelist's dramatic work "The Scapegoat ," the very large number of 7000 copies was thrown off " Vauity Fair" and "Oliver Twist 1 ' may both bo said to be novtls with a purpose — the one aiming at fallowing up the heartless cynicism of society, t ho oi her directed against tlie reign of Mr Bumble. Most of Charles Roade's nove's nre distinctly woiks in which a moral intent shines through the characters brought upon the stage; and it need hardly bo said that if stories devoted to a practical end are worthlefcs, wo shaU have to abandon ono of the most successful e?er pub'ished, " Uncle Tom's Cabin." — Telegraph.

Writing in the Illustrated London New?, Geoige Moore sajs that for years and years — those years when the voice of our clamorous nightiogjlo was loudest — Mr Henley's poems were refused by every editor iv London, and so firmly was every door closed against him that he abandoned poetry, and might never have sung again had it not been that Mr Gleson White while exploring the anonymous files of an obscare journal in search of ballads and rondeaus, camo across a number of poems in old French metres of quite extraordinary excellency. Upon inquiry all, these poems turned out to bs by Mr Henley, and their publication in the " Canterbury Series " secured a large sale for the volume and immediate recognition for Mr Henley.

The June National Ksview baa a novelty in the way of first articles in the shape of a poem by Alfred Austin of 42 quatrains, entitled "The Fallen Elm." It is a pretty conceit — a dialogue between a sympathising lover of nature and an elm which has fallen victim to the woodman's axe. There are not a few charming suggestions of field and woodland conjured up in it. Its penultimate verse indicates the character of the conversation, and shows us a most moral and philosophical elm tree : So sorrow you not if I cease to soar, And am sundered by saw and bill ; Rather hope that, like me, when you're green no

more, You may comfort your kindred still.

How unjust a thing it is to be angry with pigs because they have no wings, and with birds because they have no teeth. And yet that is a mistake that is often made, especially as regards books and authors. " Why cinnot Barrio write English stories?" — or " Why canaot the author of ' Mademoiselle Ixe ' writo a novel of three volumes ? " — or "Why docs not Mary Wilkins give us a little variety instead" of these perpetual New-TCnglish sketches ? " cry these unreasonable people. They will not see that Barrio is nothing unless lie be Scottish, that Linoe Falconer's greatest charm lies in her brevity — never one word too much nor too few— and that the author of "A Humblo Kom&nce" and of " The New-England Nun " excels in describing her own people. — Leisure Hour.