COSY CORNER CLUB.

Otago Witness, Issue 2525, 6 August 1902, Page 60

COSY CORNER CLUB.

TOPIC: "A Kipling Meeting." An expression of opinion by inembezs on the works of Rudyard Kipling is invited. It is desired that opinions and criticisms should be enriched as far as possible with quotations from Kipling's works.

Mv dear Comrades. — In adopting the %uggtMion of Kerani as to "a Kipling meeting, ' I confess I looked for a much viider response, and for thih reason : those, I thought, who do not admire Kipling as an actual wiiter vvil) sympathise with the men whose cause he has championed, or they will admire his work a.s an Empne-builder, or "warm to his deep patriotism, making his work speak for him in quotation.

However, if our circle is small to-day, the work which comes before us is good, varied, and representative, and I for one have much enjoyed our "Kipling Meeting." I trust that our next topic, ''The Life and Tames of Cromwell." may be a widely-dis-cussed one and well attended. Remember, my deal- comrades, we have a reputation to live up to as members of a club which is unique in. New Zealand.

And now to our topic — with Xerani to set the ball rolling.

Dear Emmeline, — "With your leave, my humble contribution this time will take the form of a Kipling an-acdote which may possibly be new to some of your readers. I thought at first of making' an effort to erhow the truthfulness, in the main, of Kipling's sketches ; that in euoh as those as "Under the Deodars" he is representing, not society at s&rge, but individuals; that in most of them, if not all, the moral is there, though it nia^ not be labelled. I thought of referring to tho view expressed last session by one of the 0.C.C., I forget who, that Kipling does not understand love, and of showing that if he does not talk, about it, he shows the- effects, for instance, "Georgie Porgie," "jjertram and Bimij' "Without Benefit of Clergy," Mid others. Who without an understanding of love— the love that laeta, ©ot till death, but

sex as the individual — could have written ''Bjr Word of Mouth," and its opening verse: "Kot though you die to-night, O sweet, and wail, A spectre at my door, Shall mortal Fea-r make Love immortal fa.il—— I shall but leve you moie Who, from Death's house reluming, give me still One niornonl's comlort in my msitchlc-ss ill." I thought, too, of replying to those who object to tho language that is used by some of Kipling's characters, and of citing the Rev. J. Gibb as a witness, that our authoT has only represented things as they are, and of trying 1 to show tLat the critics oi "lite Islanders, ' who had bsen defending tho athletic and sporting men from the imputation of unwillingness ifor service in time ot war, had missed the aim oi the poem, which is reallj a plea for general military ■training in time of peace. But it can't be done within the prescribed limit, and my conscience reminds me of previous transgressions, so I •will conclude with the anecdote. Bishop Brewster, of Connecticut, addressing tuo students of Yale College, tells the following as coming to him at first hand: — '"A trained nurse was watching at the bedside of Mr Kipling during those moments when the author was in the mo3t critical stage of sickness, and she noticed that his lips began to move. She bent down over him, thinking ha wanted to say something to her, and she heaxdl him utter .these words. TCow I lay me down to sleep,' that old, familiar pi aver of childhood days. The nurse, realising that Kipling did not require her services, said in an apologetic whisper : 'I beg your pardon, Mr Kipling; I thought lyou wanted something.' 'I do,' faintly observed Kipling. 'I want my Heaveniyi Father. He only can take care of me now/ It is this masculine, robust-, religious faith, that we see in Kipling's writings, ' added! Bishop Brews ter. "and it is a faith that the young men of Yale University may well carry ■with them m the performance of then: daily work."

KERANI. Your buef outhue of whnt you intended io do suggests very admirably many "trains of thought, and sets each reader recalling for [her or himself instances in point. I think, with you, that Kipling, though no love poet, \mderstands love in its wideT, greater aenss a<s few writers- do. Our thanks are yours for the anecdote, Kerani. It is new to me, and dear exceedingly, as testifying to the vein of thought that — like most men of deep feeling — he js most silent about. Have you read •'Kirn" ? Dear Euimehne,— lt is not merely famous soldiers and statesmen who have helped to build tip the Empire on which the sun never sets, I/or who better deserves tho name of Empire-builder than thpt man of forceful personality, Rudyard Kipling? Throughout all his 'works runs a clear, decisive note of Imperialism. Such poems as tho "Recessional" and "Take Up the White" Man's Burden" (nofc to mention "The Absent-minded Beggar") have stirred "ihe pulse of a mighty Empire, and who can say how far-reaching their effect may be? Kipling's whole-hearted sympathy raid admiration are with the British soldier, as anyone may see in his '"±sarrack-room Ballads," "Plain Tales from the Hills," and "Soldiers Three." He has faithfully voiced the sentiments of Mr Thomas Atkins, even if he has exaggerated his slang and .saenficed polish pnd refinement ia the desire for realism. In the poem "To T. A.," in "Barrack-rcons Ballads," we read: "I have tried for to explain Both your pleasure and. your pain,

And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you. O, th-ere'll surely come a day When they'll give you all your pay, And: tieat you as a Christian ought to do, So, until that day comes round, Heaven keep you safe and sound, And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you ' tn the poem entitled "Mandalay" we are taken, into the confidence of a certain British .soldier who, although he had "walked with fifty housemaids out of Chelsea to the Strand, ' still preferred & "neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land." The first verse runs: "By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin* eastward to the eea, There's a Burmah girl a-sefctin', and I know she thinks o' me, For the wind is in the palm tree, and the temple bells they say: Come you back, you British soldier, come you back to Mandalay."

Kipling, however, does not confine his verses to the army. Some of his finest ballads deal with the sea, and the men who go down, to tho sea m ships. "Macandrew's Hymn," "Tho Bolivar," and "The Clampherdown" (all three 9imply abounding iv technicalities) are good types of this claas. The "'Gift of the Sea" is a quaint and pathetic ballad. "The dead child lay in the shroud, And the widow watched beside, And her mother slept and the channel swept The gale in the teeth of the tide. '•Then canir a cry from the sea, But the oca-rime biuided the g'.ae3, And, 'Heard ye nothing, mother 9 ' she said 5 ' 'Tis the ch^d^jlhat waits to pass.' .... 1 "O fe^t I have held 111 my hand, O hands at mv heait to catch, How should they know the road to go. And how should they lift the latch?" At last the childless mother goes to the calling- sea, foi she feels that the cry she befljd was not the "cry of the tern or the wail of the wind- blown gull." "In the heel of the wind-bit pier,

Where the twieted weed was piied, She came to the life she had missed by an hour,

For she came to a little child. '

In an essay of such length as this it is impossible to touch even lightly 011 all the productions of Kipling's fertile brain, so I will merely give two short extracts from "Kirn," that wonderful portrayal of Indian life and character.

The fir&t is descriptive of the wanderings of Kini find the Lama on the lower Himalayas .

"Through the speckled shade of the great deodar forests, through oak, feathered and plumed with ferns; birch, ilex, rhododendron, and pine, out on to the far hillsides, slippery, sunburnt grass, and back into the woodland'^ coolth again, till oak gave way to bamboo andl palm of the valley, he swung untiring."

The second extract describes the effect upon Kirn of his first approach to -Simla :

"The wandering road, dipping and sweeping about the growing spurs ; the. flush of the morning laid upon the distant snows; the branched! cacti tier upon tier on the stony hillsides; thts voices of a thousand water channels; the chat* ter of the monkeys; the solemn deodars, climbing one after another with. down-droop«ct branches ; the vista of the plains rolled out far beneath them . . . all these things lifted Kirn's heart within him."

LOIS, v J^&jiJL ,§tfcr»ekftj£ jjao»t «&jo£%b.le I Loi%

3S7ith p writer like- Kipling, there is nothing like letting him speak for him3elf. What wonderful, what marvellous, grasp of technicalities i.s his! I -wonder if you have read his "Capgailia Courageous" ? Here, in a field of observation entirely removed from all his previous efforts, he masters every detail, is glib with technicality, while hia fluent pen catches the slang of the rough northern fishers, and attunes itself to their very drawl and intonation. there is a. story of his included in " The Day*3 Work," which aa a perfect marvel of technical detail ftlsed as a background. Lois, do you know his "End of the Passage" ? and have you read "The Soul of Tomlinson" ? One has to lead so much of Kipling before you know him at all, because he is so diverse. Between tfce slang, the devil-may-care profanity, and the amazing vernacular of "Barrack-room BalItds " and the high beauty of "The Worker's Jfymn " or "The Recessional," what chords does he not touch? Was ever anything more d«lightful*than those "Jungle books" ? Were th«y not the key that opened the dcor to the toew school of nature writers ? Dear Emmeline, — Kipling's popularity is so great that you are sure to have a large number of admirers at this meeting. Now, I admire Kipling, but am not- exactly "an admirer" of him — certainly not" a Kiplingite. As detraction is less welcome' than praise, and as I have none of his writings at hand from which to quote, I shall make my criticism short. The great favour he has met with is natural and justifiable. His style was altogether new, and the world always welcomes originality. Vigour and pictureaqueneas are his most striking characteristics. I remembsr a number of ago, before he had taken the world by storm, being struck by a poem of "his in, I think, the Cornhill Magazine. I forget the name of the poem, -but it relates how the wife of an Indian prince disguised herself as a dancing girl in order to elude the vigilance of the English guards and mingle her ashes with those of her dead husband on his funeral pyre. The poem was unsigned, and I wondered who the writer was. Two or three years after I read some of Kipling's other writings, and at once guessed that the Indian poem was his, us I aftrwards found it lo be.

In the beat of Kipling's writings, the exact •word or phrase needed to convey the most virid idea or picture to the mind is always used. Then he very rarely over-elaborates or becomes tedious. Characters are sketched with a few strokes of the pan, and tragedies told in a few words. Kipling is certainly one of the most original and quite the most forcible of our present writ«T3. But I think he has been betrayed into the usual fault of popular writers— writing too much. His faults- are carelessness, haste, want of culture—perhaps of high ideals, both literary and moral. Fine as much of his best work, botli pros* and verse undoubtedly is, I think it absurd to claim for mm a place amongst our greatest masters. To be a great poet the first essentials are loftiness of thought and imagination, combined with beauty of diction. Kipling's verse occasionally—as in the "Recessional"— approaches sublimity; but cannot long sustain a lofty flight, and is seldom purely beautiful. In fiction, he has not the breadth of view nor the sustained power of the greatest novelists. Of course many of his stories do not claim to be more than vigorous sketches, nor much of Ins verse to be higher than glorified doggerel. Immediate and universal popularity is in itself, an index that a writer is not of the first order. For one person who can read with appreciation "Hamlet," "Paradise Lost," or "In Memoriam," a hundred can feel pi ensure W the vigorous, swinging verse of Kipling. But no doubt the defects of hia qualities have helped to make Kipling what he has been of late years— a most potent force to intensify patriotism and impel belief in the loftiness of our national destiny. •

ALPHA.

Like you, Alpha, I always confess at once that I am not the faithful dis ;iple who may be justly called "a Kiphngite.' I see his faults, and how force slips into brutality sometimes, and slanginess— that wonderful vocabulary of liis — sinks into profanitj-— but, " for a' that, and a' that, the man l s a man for a' that." I knew — I don't know why — that you would not be a great admirer of Kipling, but expected to find you mollified by the "Jungle Book," and "almost persuaded" by "The "Workers' Hymn. ' Then, too, to what good tise a-s, patriot and Empire-builder has he not put that vivid trick of words?

He may, as you feel, be devoid of grandeur, but has he not been the right man in the right place? We sorely needed such an one, andin my mind there is no doubt that Kipling's gifts were given to him to be used — just aa he has iised them : that he had a missicn to perform, a part to play iv a difficult time, and 1106 even the savag-e invective of "The Islanders" can lessen my admiration for the writer of "The Workers' Hymn. Dear Emmeline, — Not as an Empire-builder, not aa an Imperialist, nor yet as the very good friend of Private Thoma.s Atkins- for which true friendship and his great understanding I -admire him beyond measure — do I pay a tribute to Rndyard Kipling to-day, but for the warm, deep-rooted thread of love that runs, Bometime3 almost hidden, but still there, through his many works— the love of home, the love of conntry, and embracing both of these, the love of England— the Motherland. Under the rough speech and endless jests of the inimitable "Soldiers Three"— through the heat and the glare and the desperate temptations that inarch aide by side with a soldier in India-— what drew. Ortheris tc the " little stuff bird-shop" he longed for, and at last obtained? — what sent Learoyd back again to the "smoky, stone-ribbed north, amid the clang of the Bradford looms," or placed Mulvaney, ■when he could no longer serve his Queen, in the "funny little ' construction ' bungalow" on a Central India line?— he was a married man, and Dinah Shadd made his home.

The love of country, whether the heart turns to the old Homeland or throbsi m the breastof the native-born, he gives voice to many times. Who cannot hear the ciy of the exile", the heart sickness for the old grey Mother in the very simplicity of "In Spring Time" — *'My garden blazes brightly with the rosebush and the peach, And the koil sings above it, in the suis by the well; From the creeper-covered tiellis conies the squirrel's chattering speech, And the blue jay screams and flutters where the cheery cat-bhei dwell.

"But the Tose has lost its fragianc 1 iiud the koil's note is strange I am sick of endless sun-»\me, sick of blos-som-burdened bough. Give tne back the leafless woodland 0 , where thp winds of springtime range — Give me back one day in England, •'<>: it's spring in England now'

■Through the pines the eusts arc boom v?, o'er the brown fields blowing chill. From the furrow of the plough-shaie streams the fragrance of the loam, And the hawk nesta on the chffsule and the jackdaw in the hill. And nay heart 19 back in England 'mid the sights and sounds of Home." "Christinas in India" echoes the same longbit**

" Oh, the toil that knows no breaking! Oh, the heimweh, ceaseless, aching! Oh, the black, dividing sea. and alien plain! Grey dusk behind the tamarisks — the pairots fly tog-ether — As the sun is sinking slowly over Home; And his last ray seems to mock us, shackled in a life-long tether, That drags us back, howe'er so far we roam." The voices of the new countries, fresh with the freshness of new worlds, call to us in no uncertain tone from " The Native-born," yet it is but the same love after all. What the pioneers felt for the old country their offspring feel for the new, but they taught us to love the old in the new : — ■ " They change their 9kies above them, But not their hearts that roam ! We learned from our wistful mothers To call old England ' home ' I "They passed with their old-world legends — Their tales of wrong and dearth. Our fathers held by purchase, But we by the right of bnth; Our hearts where they rocked our cradle, Our love where we spent our toil, And our faith and oui hope and our honour We pledge to our natne soil!" Oh! read it all in "The Flowers": — " Buy my English po3ies Ye that have your own ; Buy them for a brother's sake, Overseas, alone. Weed ye trample underfoot Floods his heart abnm— Bird ye never heeded, Oh, she calls hia dead to- him!

" Far and far our homes are set round the Seven Seas ; Woe for us if we forget — we that hold by these! Unto each his mother-beach, bloom and bird and land — Masters of the Seven Seas, oh, love and understand!" And if we feel thus for the land that gave us birth, could we feel aught else but love for the lace that bred us? — and when vre only knew, but could not speak, Kipling found the words • " Those that have stayed at thy knees, Mother, go, call them in — We that were bred overseas wait and would speak with our kin. Not in the dark do we fight— haggle and flout and gibe ; Sell our love for a price, loaning our hearts for a bribe. Gifts have we only to-day — Love without promise or fee — Hear, for thy children spoak from the uttermost parts of the se.i l " And the dear old Mother has proved her sons, and found their boast no idle tale. GABRIELLE. Your quotations, Gabnelle, both rich and admirably chosen, illustrate most graphically the aspect in which you present Kipling to us to-day. The love of men and women is the only love which he 9eems to me unable to completely realise— at its best and highest. Love cf country, love of his fellow men, love of little children, and love of animals — all these burn with a truth and virility which no faults of style or carelessness of work, no audacity of phrase or violation of taste or refinement can dim. Dear Emmeline, — I do not know whether I

should style myself an admirer of Kipling or not. I admire the vigour and the life, the verve, that animates his work, and the insight that gives him the power to appeal to so many hearts. His "Barrack-room -Ballads" and"The Absejit-minded Beggar" have been quoted or 9ung in every part of the British Empire.; but was the enthusiasm with which they were leceived a tribute to the pcret's vvork. or an outcome of the wave of patriotism surging over the Empire 9 — would "The Absent-minded Beggar" have been as well received without tho hall-mark of the musical genius of Sir Arthur Sullivan?— considered from the standpoint of literature, where would we place it? The English language* is wide and expres°i\e enough without using slang — and Kipling descends to slang— almost to vulgarity— in some of his writing*. It is a pity, for it is a blot on work vibrating with power and genius. Look at the grandeur of ins R-ecessional hymn • - "God of our fathers, known of old — Lord of the far-flung battle-nne, Beneath whose awful hand w> hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with l.s yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget l " How impressive the last line is 1 It has become almost a standard quotation, because of its very appropriateness to the times. "The tumult and the shouting dieF — The captains and the kings depait — Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice. A humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us j-et, Lest we forget— lest we forget!" The third and fourth stanzas I admiie very much. What a protest they bold against the pomp and show of victorj 1 — " Far-called, out navies melt away - On dune and headland sink the file! Lo! all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre l Judge of the NatioiiS, spare us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget ! " If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in a\. c—e — Such boasting as the G entiles use, Or lesser breeds without the La^ — Lord God of Hosts, be with us jet, Lest we forget — lest we forget'" The last stanza I may as well c;uot° to finish the piece, and also as it is nowise lacking m pewer — " For heathen heait that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard All valiant dust that bui'ds on dust, And, guarding, calls Jiot Thee to guaid - For frantic boast and foolish word, , Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord." I should have liked to have wutten a lorger paper, and quoted from a number of other poem?, but I daresay some of the other members, will do full justice to the thenip.

VAL No, Va!. I should not, by \o v own =!iowiiig, cal' you "an admirer" of Kipln.p. If you onlj' oare for him at his !oftie--t, he ycarue'y appeals to yon, for he larely reaches those heights. Hi<- work, with all it-< iaults, like the people I lovO best, lii-d become dea* to mp from its deep, vibrating humanity, wondeiful grip of tho powei cf woid=, and fearless truth long befoie hf wrote "The Recessional, und I co ife=s that the beauty, purity, aiid "=plcrdour of those hi -e.s completely amazed me, tKy showed me powers in Kipiirg hitherto unmiC3.= cd at But I <o> k— jd Ins genius and ack- o-\ 'p.lged his i.--(p .m tins age of hi'ns 'cng, lorj befoi N

Dpar r.mm»li'T- "ibe n d ' i < 'V ivuiutudc ii a painter on rou^h <*'.\ n w:Wi bn'd coloiu. whose work must bp vicwe-d Trom a distance. In a certain pen^e t'ii^ is l.ue of Kipling. He Ir.cks alike the si.pe-lv finish of Tennyson and the warmth of Burns, but, |bW hia wudtace it iftrger. £h.e "ldy_la oi

the King" is a scholar's feast, and Burns is a minstrel; but both lovers and scholars^ — in their every-day clothes, so to speak — are in the crowd listening to Kipling. He is an Empire poet. As such he holds all men at the niercy of his pen ; now no man. has so many admirers — now no one so many enemies. Scarcely has the golden harvest been gathered at the call of "The Absent-minded Beggar" than the tempest of abuse is raging wherever "muddied oafs" and "flannelled fools" are gathered together. In "The Ballad of the Bolivar" we have Kipling m the glory of his office, chastising those who would make his Empire less than a poet's fancy. One can hear the howling of the storm — of two storms, rather, in " Trailing like a wounded duck, working out her soul ; Clanging like a smithy shop after every roll. Just a funnel and a mast lurching through the

sprav — So we threshed the Bolivar out across the

bay." Then the touch of despair in : "Oh, her nose flung up to the sky, groaning to be still ,

Up and down and back we went, never time for breath. Then the money paid at Lloyd's caught her by the heel, And the stars ran round and round, dancing at our death."

What a glorious lilt of sailor pride this is — " Then a grey-back cleared us out, then the

skipper larfed — 'Bojs, the wheel has gone to hell! — rig the winches aft ; Yoke the kicking rudder-head — get her under

way.' So we steered her, pulley-haul, out across the baj\" How stinging,

"Ain't the owners gay 'Cause wo took the Bolivar safe across the

bay!" and the pity of it that mankind should be so sordid as to make such a cut necessary. But while the Bolivar is drifting to its doom, let us turn to Kipling at his best on finished canvas. Prayer is the key of heaven, and where prayer is simplest the key is surest. In "The Worker's Prayer" the poet brings us to the Mercy Seat, and makes the humblest of us great again by good resolve :> — " If there be good in that I wrought, Thy hand compelled it, Master, Thine : Where I have fai'ed to meet Thy thought, I know, through Thee, the blame is mine. "One instant's toil to Thee denied Stands all Eternity's offence; Of that I did with Thee to guide, To Thee, through Thee, be excellence. "Who, lest all thought of Eden fade, Brmgst Eden to the crafts.nan's biam, God-hkc, to muse o'er his own trade, And manlike stand with God again. - " Tho d«pth and dream of mj- desire, The bitter paths wherein I stray; Thou knowest who has made the riro, Thou knowest who has made the clay. "One stone the more swings to her place, In that dread temple of Thy worth. It is enough that, through Thy grace, I saw naught common on Thy earth.

"Take not that vision from my ken. Oh, whatsoe'er may spoil or speed; Help me to need no aid from men, That I may help all men that need. Amen." BOY FRIEND.

Do you remember that game that children play in waste corners in the long, bright summer evenings, Boy Friend— "Choose to the east, and choose to the west, and choose to the very one you love best"? Well, you have chosen for your quotation the very one of all Kipling's poems that I love best. Ido so wonder if you knew it and loved it before my intense appreciation of it led me to have it inserted ' my column that time? Any way, it is ant . ler point of sympathy; perhaps you even have "The Worker's Hymn ' framed and hung in your room as I have. Yet whioh of us could plead " Not guilty " to that tremendous indictment . " One instant's toil to Thee denied

Stands all Eternity's offence"?

Dear Emmeline, — To -me Rudyard Kiphng" is rather disappointing At times he reminds me somewhat of one of Ins characters inasmuch as he sees the better end follows the worse. It is disappointing to find the author of the "Recessional" wasting his talent on so much that is inferior. The following dainty piece forms a striking contrast to the vigorous "Baliads" and "Ditties" we are so familiar with . " The smoke ujjon j r our altar dies, The flowers decay; The goddess of your sacufica Has flown away. What profit then to sing- or stay The sacrifice from day to day?

" ' We know the shrine is void," they said, ' The goddess flown , Yet wreaths are on the altar laid— The altar-stone Is black with fumes of sacrifice, Albeit she has fled our eyes. ■' ' For it may be, if still we sing, And tend the shrine, Some deity on wandering wing May there incline, And, finding all in order meet, Stay while we worship at her fet-l '" HOCIIELAGA.

You, Hochelaga, tco, quote one of mv favourites from Kipling- oue, too, I tnuik, which 19 not very widely known - at ainrate he^e Foi myself, I had learned to enjoy Kipling so much before ho v.-iote tha ' Recessional '" that its unsuspected beauty ai.d grandeur filled me with the delight of new found treasure rather than furnished a standaiu foi tho wnter's work. lam content to look upon hi 3 noblest work ns upen those great crises of feeling and cf power that come but seldom, and hence are =o poweiful an influence when they do. Wo cunnot live at concert pitch — only human, we cannot dwell uion the hill-tops. Do try to nko Kipli.ig's ordinary woik, Hochelaga. For example, m any of the short stories embodied in ''Lue's Handicap," "Many Inventions," and "The Day's Work. "Kerani" mentions some of the finest, I think. Then "The Light That Failed, with its picture of a mail's, friendship, "Kirn,' tlut wonderful lining parciama of the Giand Tiunk Road of Indu, and perfect = tuclv of a ■-piiitualK-wise iiid worldly-ignorant old man But poiliaps, my dear rrin'ade, you have read them all, and ,fe (juiut'_\ -milling to jour^e./ 1 D"ai I^"iincln p. - " I h.oe mad i? foi \ou a Ard i' maj' be njjht oi v. ioi g, But o"l\ \r,n ca'i tel me if >tV tru" , I hnvp tried fo. to explain Both %our plea&nrp and jour pain, Aud, Thoma*-, here's my best lespects to you.

So writes Rutlvard Kiphngr to "Thomas Atkin 5, whom I love," and for whom he has do..p so much that is deserving of ihankd. He is in his clement when writing of the Briti&h soldier, especially as re^ reseated by his "Soldiers Three."

Thq fltoiiM si tieift tiu.ee, known to tkeut

colonel as the worst men in tie regiment, are always interesting. To me it is a difficulty to decide which is first favourite, Mulvaney, who had "stud some thiouble," or the resourceful Ortheris.

Mulvaney, the worst man, but the best soldier, in the regiment — he who was to have done so much, to have gained such distinctions — remained to the end a drunken private. He found "for all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high." Poor Mulvaney, teaching others what he himself could not learn, gains the most sympathy. Still, he managed to enjoy himself at times, as did also his inseparable companions.

When his sense of right and justice compelled him to fight the Dearsley man for the palanquin, he must have enjoyed himself immensely. His "financial operations connected wid a church," and the disposal of that same silk-lined palanquin, gave him great satisfaction, as it did his two friends — and me. To them, in addition to the satisfaction they f'e't at Mulvaney's exploit, there was a lively prospect of more beer. But it is little, lighthearted Stanlej- Ortheris, whojoved his rifle so— it was said he kissed it always before going to bed — Stanley, trusting to his two big friends to fight for themselves and him too; Stanley, the loyal little man who preached mutiny when Mulvaney was locked up for drunkenness: above all, poor Stanley mad with homesickness, who has most of my affection.

TAFFY.

It was in tfle "pages of "Soldiers Three" — and so iloiig ago that I don't like to think of it — tha.t_ I first made acquaintance with RjjdyaTcl Kipling, and with the real "Tommy"" at the same time, Taffy?- ■ Tlrua it comes about that I can appreciate very well jour a*vnreciat'on. By the way, no one has quoted "Tommy To-day" — only glorified doggerel, I know; and >et how .much lies in that doggerel >

SWEETBRIAR

Dear Emmehnc,— My knowledge of Rudyaul Kipling is so small that I am scarcely -in a position ito give an opinion. I know from what I have read of him and seen written about him that he is a clever man, of a versatile mind, of thought and religious sentiment. One piece of his I admire very much —that is the " Recessional," with its refrain of "Lest we forget." SWEETBRIAR. I am sure, Sweetbriar, that you will much like the quotation given by Boy Friend — it will appeal to aH your sympathies. Ido not, however, think that you would ever care much about Kipling's writing, while some of it would, I am sure, be absolutely distasteful to you. Dear Emmeline, — One often l.eais it said that Kipling is too technical, and it is impossible to dispute this. For instance, very few readers, unless they have served their time at> apprentice to an engineer, will fully understand and appieciate the following lines —

" The tail-rods mark the time, The ciank-throivs give the double-bass, the feed-pump sobs and heaves ; And now the eccentrics start their quarrel in tha sheaves ; Her time — her own appointed time— the rocking link-head bides, Till— hear that note? — the rods return whings glimmer m' through the guides. They're all awa'! True beat, full power, the clangin' chorus goes, Cleai to the tunnel where they sit, my purrin' dynamos. t Here almost every other word is a technical one, aud as I said befoie, one needs to be an engineer to understand them. Yet they fascinate you, for are not these lines so untranslatable to the uninitiated. Set to the tune of the "Clangin' Chorus," they almost make ono wish to 'know how a steam engine works, to hear the deep undertone of music running thiough them. To most people they are only a 'noisy, though useful, machine, with an -earsnlittuig whistle. But the thought that chiefly strikes me in Kipling's poems is that he writes, not that which he would choose, but that which he thinks will teach the most and leach the farthest. So he clothes his sentiments ruggedly and his luiageiy in technicalities. " I didn't w,uit to do it, for I knew what I should get, And I -wanted to preach religion handsome, an' out of the wet, . But the Word of the Lord were lain on me, an' I done what- 1 were set. '

But he has given us so many other verses that are neither rugged nor technical, we may leave those, if we do not care for them, and enjoy the best. For has he not been more than generous to New Zealand, :n giving such charming views of our laud. —

" Last, loneliest, loveliest, apart, On us, on us, the unswerving seasons smile, Who wonder, 'mid our fcin, Why men depart, to seek the Happy Isle 3 " ? And do liot these hues bring a tlnob to a New Zealander's heart: — " Buy my English flowers' Here's jour choice unsold! Buy a blood-red myrtle bloom, Buy a kowhai's gold, Flung for gift on Taupo's face — Sign that spring is come, Buy my clinging myrtle, And I 'give you back your home. " Broom behind the windy town, Pollen o' the pine, Bpll-bud in the leafy deep, Wheie the ratus twine, Fern a'.ovc Uie saddle bow, Flax upon the plan: — T<ike Jjie flower aft} turn the )ioi!>, And kiss your lo\ c again."

C. X W. Rudyard Kipling doe 3 indeed piy honour to lvi " Happy ii>lesj " m his melodious descriptive verse s cf 'New Zealand, and for this reason 1.0 doubt occupies a warm place in some hearts which v.cud otherwise not be so appreciative of his works.

I think that you, like myself, will be disappointed at -in n .i -*iimli attendance to-day. Dc-ar Kiiimelme, — I admire Kipling's works mjself. he is supposed to be admired more by the inasees than the classes. Have just lead Ins "Stjlkv and Co. ' It portrays the life of boy, at college, their pranks — real boys' tiicl:3, bat not a mean action llic story is slangy, certu'nly. Stalky " in the school voraHilary meant clever, well-con- = :dered, a id wily as applied to a plan of action. Then ar>o''ipr story of Kipling's "A Walking De'.egatf," >-upi>OTed talking between horses, "til! beaio out Kipling's character of repugnance to all 'ham. Real, honest truth for h:in no humbug. "The Absent-minded Beggar" was the production of his pen; and how many d'rl "pnv, pay. pay" through it' flifswrili'i<» dots much in elevattng mankind, in my way of t'unkmg, and now, niv dear president, I will le.ve it to abler pens than mine to tell oi oue of our greatest writer?.

DAPHNE.

1 think, Daphne, you will enjoy our comuciert' uppiecmljoii ol and quotations from Kip. ing's works to-day, and I behpve those jo« will Jike be3t will be "A Gift From the bea ' and '"The Empty Shrine." D_ear Comrades,— Could our ohaiming edit-

ress have set us a more fascinating subject because so diverting in how we attack it. I' suppose Rudyard Kipling's chief characteris« tics are his ruggedness, truthfulness — knowing tho truth, and telling it: a realism, thai vitalises into healthy optimism, vulgar often, were it not for a fine virile strength. His very name cannot be slurred over, but must be pronounced distinctly, clearly, or not at all. It is curious to note that accident should havf stamped his peculiar genius in the striking name he bears. It arrests the reflective an<* impressionable mind in such a way that scarc^ consciously we acquire a something of hi( ego when we approach him — figuratively speakr ing, I mean, of course. Hero is no lyri< playing with a sentiment; but, rather, sentit ment embodied in sober fact. And that re< minds me of a comparison I once saw drawu between Kipling — and Le Galienne, forsooth! If I mistake not, the critic was tho latter him* self. The whol-s critique so lacked some savt ing grace of humour that I was constrained to read it. , Here was a make-believe senti< ment, dilettante, evanescent, in long hair, lace, and fancy bicycle- unmentionables, -unnina amuck against ariesting fact in plain »weeds| The other day I unearthed an article some sii years old, by E. Kay Robinson, Kipling'^ qvcr.dam editcr-in-chief bn the Civii Mihtaif Gazette, where, I think, R. K. served his ap« prenticeship. It is delightfully written, in a kindly and chatty strain. From it wo gather that his home iife was most happy and stimulating. Robinson, speaks of the father as th« most cklightful companion he had ever met, 'us mother a somewJiat sarcastic though charming wit. He says: "With Kipling I was disappointed at first. . . .' Hti juvenile appearance contrasted, moreover, unpleasantly with his stoop, acquired through much bending over an office table." lam sorely tempted to quote further to R. X.'s, habit of the? enormous amount of ink he used to throw about, till his dress of white cotton was spotted like a Dalmatian dog — his gieat delightful humour and restless cneigy : this too, under the Indian sun.

"Where Kipling stands alone in a most singular sense is his penchant for story-telling with animals, birds, or inanimate objects as his characters; as witness his "Ploin Talks From the Hills," and his "Jungle Book." "A Walking Delegate," too, is" a* delightfully lav moroiia story, of which the Characters nre ani« mals talking Yankee; or, again, his " .007," .ihf story of a locomotive.' This conglomeration of mechanical ingenuity fairly quivers with lifo( Hih power to grasp the technicalities of * subject, the ease with which he assimilate! them, is all-embracing, intuitive, extraordinnry, He gives you the impression as he sweeps yoi< along that he has a thorough, living, and deeg knowledge of India and its many people?. His conversations are always crisp, epigrammatic t luminous, vivifying, and carry you along with, a growing interest. Some of you will remember hia short stories of "Details Guarding tha Line '' in the late war, true to life and colour, I'm told, and literary cameoe. Sufficient space is not allowed in which to quote from li:< pro3e works. I can therefore only give rcf- ,- ence to them here. "William the Conquen r. ' in his volume of short stories, appeals flrcly, to inc. It is a story of those heroes thab never were listed, but struggle on in theis stern adherence to duty through the awful soul-* numbing, case-hardening experience of an Indian famine. There are scenes in the story* that are only relieved from a- howling absurdity by their tragic pnthos. Note the dramatic entrance of Scotfc and his kindergarten upon; William's scene!

At «11 times there is* one who rises to meeta the occasion, be it what it may, and in It. K. Tommy Atkins found his champion and hfa friend. Even at Tommy's wornt he makes us< love him, and appreciate all he has won us and his worth.

There are those who will neither grant tha name of writer -nor poet to Kipling ; and I'll allow that much he has written would ba twaddle were it not for its stienuous sincerity. Friendship passing the lovo of woman ia exalted in his "The Light That Failed" : idlentless telling of the eternal law of DivinS punishment. It is easy to criticise the defect-* of genius — the critic has but to find fault. 1 ? with truths that he never could originate, Much that could bo said must bo left unsaid, for space is pressing to its fulness, and eoibo quotations as asked for — too few to please tho writer, but waiting their corner.

Here is R X.'s fine dedication to the headmaster of Ihis old school at Westward Ho in his "Stalky and Co." It ia a simple, direct appreciation of the far-reaching effect of a good man's actions. By the way, the Beetles

is supposed to be tho suettacied Kipling hlin*elf — " Let us now praise famous men: Men of little showing, For their work contiuueth, A^d their work, continueth — Bioad and deep continueth, Greater than their knowing!" The dedication in "Barrack-room Ballads" (who whs it eaid the dedication was the best ■part of the story?) to Walcott Balestier, his 'eometinie collaborator, has a lofty conception that might hnvo had Emerson's imprint. On the other liand his toast to T. H. (Tommy Atkins) is both immediate and to the point — O there'll surely come a dr.y When they'll give you oil your pay. And treat you as a Christian ought to do, So until that day com-es round, Heaven keep you safe and EOiuid. "And, O-bcnifts, here's tuy baet respects to you 1 " Hij "Ka c t and V/p-.1. ':. !t-= piaisc of a virtue thnt kpo-'-; Kcitl 1^- race ror ccuntiy — courage— deserves pijiittay m gold "Btrt ih?re'« neither East nor West, Bcrdci nor Bo.id nor Birtlu ..When two strong men 6taud face to face, tho' they come frcin the ends of the earth." As a stinging showmg-up of the character vce all know, is there urn-thing more daring ie its treatment or cutting ai its sarcasm than llis "Tomlinsoii" ° Or.iy 'he treatinrnt of the «rtist saves it from bluspheniy. After being turned ifom beta Jie»vwi tuc.% 2<rii. «^ vtuiil iv

either, Tonihnson ie sent speeding back to eaith with thit —

■'Go back to earth with a lip unsealed — go back with an open eye, And carry my word to the sous of men oi ever 3 T e come to die That the sm they do by two and two they must pay for one by one — Aiid . . . the God that you took from a piinted book be with you, Tornlmson ''' As a sample of Tommy's innate mp^hnrss— modesty — what Lord "Bobs" would call the "gentleman" showing through —"G ungsi Dm" lfe delightful, startling — '■ 'E carried me away To where a dooli lay, And a bullet came and drilled the bessa: e'ean 'E put me safe inside. An' juat before 'c died, 'I 'ope you liked your dunk,' sot Gii".,;a Dm " So I'll meet iiim lptei on At the place where 'c ib gouc — Where it's always double- dill! and no t.u i tcen 'Cll bo equattan' on the coi';s, G lvin' drink to pcoi damned souls,. An' I'll get a swig m hull hem Guuga Dii' 1 Though I've belted yrv and flipcl \on. By the hvui' Gawd that made >ou, You're p. better man thaa I am, Gunga Din'" Again, m "Fuzzy Wuzzy" — E rushes at the smoke when vf ici clwp. An', before we knovj, c's Rckm at oui cad . 'F.s r!l 'ot Band and girger whon ainc, Am' Vtf gexie rally slianimiu' v;kwi '•£ dead-

'£'<s a daisy, 'c's a ducky. Vs a lamb l 'E's a injia-iu liber idiot o.i the °ntee , 'E's the on'y thing that dcesn't give a damn For a regiment o' British mfantree ' So 'ero's to you, Fuzzy Wuzzy, at j.cur 'oine in the Soudan ; You're p pore. beni^M?'! 'cathen. but a firstclass nghtiii' n;au. He u=:s su'-h tcmblc and often loathsome expressions — as, for instance, in "Bchv.ir" — that some will tell you he could wiite nothing pure or lyrical. Yet h^:ep to this, the '-tory of a mother who h?s lost her child and found another, m '"A Gift Frgm the Sea" — " Lie sti'.l, dear lmnb, lie still ; The child is pissed ncm 1 ; mi : 'Tis the ache in vcur bie.i^t t!i. t b:oke votir rest, And the feel of an empty p;m Note the Imperial sniixt in "What is the Flag of England 9" "Ye have but my Ij.ct 1 ' tc re. Ye have but my waves to coi'nipi. Go ioith, for it is 1 i.t re' ' "A So-ig of the White Men" ci.d "The White Man's Bitiden" are each a challcjifre nonLy o; a thinker, as is his ' KecebSional worthy of a seer in its simplicity and tiuth. In cohcaision, I would give the last verse of his "The Young Queen" ni honour of the establishment of the Commonwealth .—. — "Tempered, august, ab.d'ig, reluctant of prayers or vows, Eager, in face of peril, as thine for thy mother's house ; God requite thee, my sis'e: , through the stenuous years to be, And make thy people to love thee as thou hast loved me." Tremulous with prophecy, is it rot?

L'IELANDAIS

Everything has its compensations, L'lrlandais, and the small attendance of members today leaves me free to joyfully give every line of your charming paper, urmarred by the wretched scissors or impertinent erasure. Thank jou most heartily for your paptr, and, believe me, I am charmed that to-day I can sdinit all jour transgression of time and space With a genuine regret at the absence of Ted and Gnib, and the hope of a better roll-call next time, — Your devoted

EMMELINE

EMMELIXE'S POSTBAG

C.C.C. CORRESTOXDENCE. Taffy — I was disappointed too, Taffy, to see your seat vacant at cur last ?«eeting. However, I thank you for sending me your paper. With your permisinon, 1 shall keep it by me for use, perhaps, J.I some future meeting. I hope you will enjoy our Kinhng meeting to day.

Hocuel'.ga.— Thank yon for your pleasant and lurdly isympothy on the faihue of my booklet, schsrae. I will not pretend that it has not been a disappointment to me too. Kehs.ni writes- "I must congiatulate you on the success of the last meeting most of the papers were gooVl, but Ted's was a positive treat. I am curious to see his (is the pronoun light? — I am doubtful) opinion of Kipling. It strikes me that there is a certain resemblance in the s£yle. It reminds me of Harry r'lwmsß's clrawinps, not a lins lhat could be spared." — Quite true, Kerani, but *ied hasdisappointed us both to-day. I, too, was most anxious that Ted's chair should not be vacant to-day, though, remembering the loyal l>elp ehe has always given us, I felt I must not press my desire. AiJTHA. — Thank you for your kind expressions of regret at the untimely fate of the booklet. Yes, a good many people have already written to say that they would gladly give 2s per ccpy; still, no doubt there would be many vho would not care to do co. When my •"chip comes in." and it does not matter if the account comes out on the losing side, I may venture to take up the idea once more. The paper you thought of writing fof\>ur last travels in New Zealand would. I am sure, have been very interesting. Why not write it and keep it in readiness for a "Members' meeting" ? Green Tui. — A passage in Alpha's letter will be of pleasant interest to you, I am sure — "1 sympathise with Green Tui in her love of i*ative scenery, plants, and birds, . . . and agree with her in rating our native bush biids far above the acclimatised ones. Nevertheless, I am fond of many of these too, and consider it adding insult to injury to stigmatise the poor things as 'feathered vermin.' There is little dotibt that though the English birds devour fruit, and do much harm to crops, they also are most useful in keeping down noxious insects." • Val wiii.es- "Keram's letier on "The Abolition of Old Bachelors' was quite an inspiration. I thoroughly enjoyed it. ... The Travellers' Meeting last month was pleasant — it would have been a great treat to be with Ted or with L'lrlandai6, or, indeed, with most, •of the club on their travels." — Your delightful memory of a wild garden, evoked by my 6i.gge.«tron anent thp pleasures of wild gardening, charms me so much, dear Yal, that, with your pprmisßion I should like to quote it when wntng on this subject at a later date. Kowh'.i writes: "May I congratulate you on the success of your Cosy Corner meeting 0 , especially the last, on New Zealand travel Thank \ou very warmly, Kowhai, for the kindly mid chpenng wish which concludes >onr letter To be of "help and comfort to lonely friend-." is worth living fm. Gabriellk.— So glad you are better, dear We have wirter behind us now and spring belore up Try suii'liiLP for your tonic, dear 1 10-ie the sun' Am so glad you like the September topu with a hearty response from our member-, it should result m a splendid meeting. And T must not forget -that I ha\e a message for yon. C. W. W wriUp "Thank Gabriclle i'c her cliprnnng feketch , she has de c cnbcd a <-crnr I am very familiar with " L.EX wntes "I regret I cannot be niescut at this meeting as I hsd hoped, but I hope you will ha\ p a very good meeting. Please < onley my ihanks to Gabrielle and Black Watch for fheii sympathy on the ]o = = of my Lelcved ino ( he-r."--Ah, I>ex, I haie today anotlmee.i'le 'Ties^age for yon It is Val. who, in l.cr ln°l letter, desire* "ku.dly wi<-h<.s and sjrrpaihy io ]>x." Cxiii — Fo' yon, r].fl* 'ruor.t T hnvo a mes-ap;" too C. X. W. '\nU-s "Tell Gnib that, like her, I love t> c p'P:n° though reared by bush «Jid hill. I liwj for some jears r ■ l tho plains, and learni to love them deai ; >\ for Ihe.r fcoft tolouimg and quiet frerdom. ' f,\vr.!TMii" --Thank you for your kind letter. Jn/lerd, 1 phou'd much nijoy — at a favouiab'e time cf yrn — iho pleasant programme v(i« -o kind l ;/ propose, ar.d there would, I sin mire, be another pleasure- even preatc — ilir rhr. i^mj; of a Dcn-aiid-ink fri^nd'h p into » Dcifeona 1 r>!n don't '•en think so, Swoetb.iai' Mrs A. F -Th;>"V you fo>- \oui note Tf-dav i« fiii.h i! b.i'-y day that 1 nm fciire you will rc\ ljunri ro\ 1 ing a 'cifci chat for uvoi'ioi day Bui 1 iniin nnd time U> ascure \ou that I, too, h«ve been dif-aj pointed about the booklet. L'lulandajs —Ten v.jll !-jjov. all ilia* I mean v. hen 1 say that roth np could b<- more soothixa thaa, the cvjftpletg "uxuleifitiftdifta" wiuwii

marts your condolence with me on the booklet fiasco. Many others, like yourself, have announced their willingness to subscribe to "the new tariff."' but — you understand' Perhaps some day — qiuen s<ibe '* Wm. V.— l thank yon very sincerely, my friend, and none the less heartily because at preseiit I do not feel justified in goiug on with the project. I always feel sine of your loyal appieciation of my efforts- the friends thai meet in trouble are friends ahvjvs; and I never forget what fiist brought about our pen-aud-iuk friendship. C S. M. — Thank you for your not". I should have been pleased to include youi description of the beauties ol your home had it nirired m time for tho Co=v- Corner Club's mc-ting O! las' month, whiofa was devoted to "Tiavel in Xcv: Zealand." The paragraph you nolieed was not a general request, but l elated to thp "topic" giv-en cut for discussion by the club If possibl" J will find time and "place to give to yoiu pnpei, but, of course, cannot promi cc.c c. ifvRMHE — I am not sure if I foi-.v^rded you a ki'id lit» message horn Tod. who desired me lo "thank Mannee for her paper (June meeting) , it was so thcughtfu 1 , womanly, and tendei.' Boy Friend — It i« indeed a pietty name you have cho-cn. raid I cm fancy it most appropriate. Behove me. Emmdine comes often theie in son it, and hat always a. sweet welcome, Bnv Friend Tht<rk you for your kind 1 egrets — the hope that survives defeat is chalactenstn. 1 of >ou ' Ti d -Love and sweet wishes to you, dear comrade.