LITERATURE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2968, 1 February 1911, Page 81

LITERATURE.

BOOK NOTICES. " The Pilgrim," by Arthur Lewis. London : W. Blackwood and Sons. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) Mr Arthur- Lewis is a poet, and his novel, "The Pilgrim," is a prose poem—a dream of pure love as delicate and subtle as ever flashed through the brain of a dreamer. Improbable, even impossible, as the plot would appear to be, given the characters, it becomes at once natural and inevitable. Wales in its palmiest days "of song and poesy, of heroes and of saints, of kings and martyrs," is the native land of a pair of unhappy lovers, who, flying from a great temptation, axe strangely brought together in a band of pilgrims on their way to Borne. On the way Davydd falls ill, and Elen nurses him, but ever she keeps her face hidden, pleading a fell disease, the cause of her pilgrimage, and he, with -.•■a.T-3 delicacy, respects her wish, and never tries to see her face. In such wise they enter Rome, remain for a time among the pilgrims, and when circumstances bring Davydd to the notice of Pope Gregory VII. and he is promoted to the position of amanuensis, with rooms in the palace of the Prefect, a little corneais found for Elen, and stiU he does not suspect that she is the ill-treated girlwife of another from whom he is fleeing. Such a position seems incredible to the coarser-minded southerners, who cannot understand the pure passion of these dreamers, and when it comes to bgm Davvdd is ignominiously by Pope and Prefect, and cast into prison, while Elen is shut into a nunnery. But many things happen before that, and the chief of these are connected with the Lady Savia a splendid and powerful woman, mV>,ce of the Prefect, adviser of the Pope, staunch supporter of the Church, an able diplomat and ruler. Savia is what the French call a " maitreaso femme. She is the most powerful woman m Borne, and its real ruler. Savia falls in love with Davydd and proposes to marry him. The complications may be imagined. Davydd acknowledges his love for Elen, and the whv be left Wales, but he believes that passion dead, since he is altogether separated from its object, ana may never see her asjain. Elen betrays her OW n incognito when her husband comes to Borne to seek for, claim, and punish her It is a plot, drastic and severe in its ' primitive elements, far better fitted f or ,a poetic drama than for any modern novel Davydd is a wonderfully beautiful and perfect character, simple, and yet astute, utterly unfit for the world of intrigue deceit, and cunning, the world of principles, opposing and opposed into which he is so suddenly plunged; _ the world of plots and politics, of rich prizes, a f st-ong temptations. In it he keeps his soul serene, pure, and unsmircVed and his conscience as sensitive and tender as a little child's. Elen is a lovely elemental creature, pure as a white flame, with no conventional standards of right, and wrong., ruled by love only, which is her ecu science, 'her religion At its bidding sue would lay down her life a filing saeri-

fice, but she knows that she and Davydd are parts of one whole, " that the God of Love has made them one for the other." But her God is not a Christian potentate. In spite of the pilgrimage to many shrines, she is at heart a pagan. The setting of the tale is as unusual as the characters. It is Rome in the year 1074, when Gregory VII (once the humble Hildebrand), bent on establishing the power of the Papacy, and correcting the sins of the Church, tried to lay his iron hand on the great princes of Eiurope, and reduce them to obedience—a struggle which ended in the setting up of a rival Pope, and all the misery and dissension that followed. When Gregory fled from Rome the nunneries were bespoiled, and the prisons opened their doors, and after eight years of unjust suffering, deprived of air and light and hope of freedom, the Welsh lovers are once more reunited and set free in a world of kindling sun, sweet air, and permitted love, to return to that land " where neither king nor priest has power to shape the issues of men's souls, and they may live and love with no other guide than the pure spirit within." " To-day and Love," by Maud Yardley. London: Hurst and Blackett. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) This is a pathetic story of a great love and a great sacrifice. The success which has attended Maud Yardley's previous tales lead the reader to expect great things from, the present novel. He—or, we should rather say, she—will not be disappointed. The story is essentially feminine in its faults as well as its virtues. Pure and passionate in her love, Mona is absolutely irrational in her treatment of botli her lovers. She will not marry the man whom she adores and who adores her lest she should interfere with his career and prove unacceptable to his relatives ; yet she commits the inconceivable folly of marrying a man of good social position, without telling him a word of her past, and this, though she knew his jealous nature, and that he hated to think fhat she was a widow, and that her child was not his. But such acts of folly are common in real life, and by no means confined to the pages of novels. If people were always wise history would be a duli affair. Mona's mistake has tragic consequences. She meets her lover again. He, too, is married, and by an act of inconceivable folly has alienated the affection and roused the jealousy of the woman whom he married to please his father and his family. " Honoria knew that her husband loved another woman, and felt sure that some day she would meet her." She nurses her hatred. The result is, of course, a foregone conclusion, without the presence of " Boy," that delightful four-year-old, whose portrait was the portrait of his father at the same age, "the thick waving hair with the warmth of the sun in it, the natural lift of the chin, that gave a touch of haughty pride ; the mouth that indicated determination, but was ever ready to break into that quick sympathetic smile which was half the charm of the face; the eyes, violet in childhood, to turn to bluey-grey in manhood, darkly fringed, open," full of intelligence." It was impossible that such a child could ba seen Avithout attracting attention, and it is not long before Honoria begins her catechism :

“ I accuse you—of being in love with Mrs Jerome.” _ “ I have not the slightest intention of denying it.” ‘‘And I ask you this question: Is her child Boy yours, too?” “ Mine and here.” “ And you dare ” “ Wait. You asked me, and I am not going to lie to you, but—hits mother and I parted before I asked you to be my | wife. What have you gained by this ex- : plantion? You have only made me repeat i what you had guessed or suspected already, otherwise you had never sought their friendship, never dragged her here to your house against her will as you have done. 111-luck, or fate, or chance, brought them to this part of the world ; but she , would have avoided you had you allowed it, and she and I would have avoided ; each other.” ; ‘‘Do you expect me to believe that,” said Honoria- with a sneer, “ and are you i going to plead with me to spare her—the i woman you love, the mother of your child, the wife of your friend.” Honoria. deliberately arouses Jerome’s suspicions, and the passionate ungoverned nature of the man is worked up to a silent fury, in which every action of his wife’s life is misinterpreted. He forgets his own entreaties before marriage that she would let him teach her to love again. He forgets all her sweetness, gentleness, i and devotion. He is madly jealous of | Boy and of Boy’s father, once thought j to be dead, now discovered to be alive. I He sees red, and the tragedv is complete. ! The climax of the story is heart-rending, 1 and ws think that many tears will be 1 shed over it. The hook is_ well written. ■ and verv interesting. It is a story of ' rowing and reaping, which none can read i unmoved, and the punishment that is i awarded to the guilty is of a nature to j arouse many questions. i “ The Mvsterv of the Boxing Contest.” By “Bert James.” Svdney ; N.S.W. Bookstall Company. (Paper, six fullpage illustrations by James F. , Scott, Is.) One of the spectators of a boxing contest is mysteriously murdered as he is leaving the hall. The unravelling of the mystery makes an interesting _ detective story. "As often happens, suspicion falls on an innocent man, who narrowly escapes hanging. The amateur detective efforts of the middle-weight champion to save his friends are. however, ultimately successful. and the reader feels duly thankful when the real culprit is finally run to earth. There are always a number of persons who enjoy a good detective yarn, and we think they will get much pleasure oai of the “ Mystery of the Boxing Conj The illustrations are from the j pencil of a former Dunedin artist, and i Jo him great credit, .

j LITERARY NOTES. | Mr Andrew Lang has written an intro- | duction to the new edition of "A Good Fight," by Charles Reade —the; original ver- ■ sion of "The Cloister and the Hearth" — which is about to be added by the Oxford University Press tx> the Oxford Library of Prose and Poetry. missioner," Sir Henry Smith mentions a little-known incident of the famous Made- ; line Smith poisoning trial. He says that I the young heroine observed complacently, : immediately after her acquittal, or, rather. : after the Scotch verdict "Not proven," I "Well, they won't catch me with arsenio Mr Heinemann will publish immediI ately an edition of Tolstoy's "Anna Karonina " xn one volume of 900 pages, at 2s 6d. This is one of the translations' for which Mrs Garnett was awarded a civil pension. Her version of "War and Peace," Tolstoy's longest novel, will appear earlv in the new year. It will be in one volume also, and at the price of 3s 6d, though filling over 1500 pages. _ Novelists have been frequently cast in damages for introducing living characters into their books and attributing to them actions of a disgraceful kind. It is leas often that a writer of serious history finds himself the object of attack in a suit for damages for libel. Mr L. S Amery wlho edited '"The Times History of the War' in South Africa," has become the target ot an ex-army officer, whom be is flaw! TO have charged with cowardice on the battlefield The action, will not come on for trial till next term, and should be of interest to all writers of contemporary hisstory of the siege of Dumnottar Castle is retold in a work which Messrs I Longmans will shortly publish, under-the title "In Defence of tihe Regalia, lbbl-i: Being Selections from the Family Papers of the Ogilvies of Barras," edited by the Rev. Douglas Gordon Barras, who edited "The Baron Court Book of Vrie" for the ' Scottish History Society. Numerous documents now printed for the first time throw light on the old controversy between the Keiths and Ogilvies as to the responsibility for the preservation of the Regalia of Scotland after it had been committed to. the Earl Marischal in Jane, 1651, for safe keeping in his Castle of Dumnottar. Tihe castle was visited by Scott somewhere about 1793. Soott was keenly interested in the historic memories clinging to the venerable weatherbeaten castle, but his visit was rendered peculiarly notable by the fact that he there met for the first and last time Robert Paterson, the original of OW Mortality, who was then engaged in the pious ibask of renewing the • inscriptions on. the Covenanters' tombs in the churchyard close by. To that visit we may attribute the famous novel. I —The 11 new admissions to the American Ha)] of Fame show noteworthy and commendable selections. Ninety-seven, ballots were oast, and 51 votes were required for election. New England is largely represented, and two women are among the 11 elect. The list is as follows, with the number of votes cast for each name:—Harriet Boeoher Stowe, 74; Oliver Wendell Holmes, 69; Edgar Allen Pbe, 69; Roger Williams. 64; James Fcni-more Cooper, 69; Phillips Brooks, 60; Win. Cullen Bryant, 59; Frances E. Wil'lard, 56; Andrew Jackson, 53; Geo. Bancroft, 53; John Lothorp Motley, 51. At last Poe comes in by a handsome majority, and Holmes gains 20 votes over the number cast for him five years ago—such is the beneficial effect of his recent centenary. Mrs Stowe receives a vote surpassed by only 15 previous names. Eleven bronze tablets for the 11 new names will be designed, each bearing a fitting sentiment from the pen or lip? of the persomi it commemorates, and the formal unveiling is exoected to take place in October of this year. Among the almost-elected candidates at this last balloting occur the names of Parkman, Samuel Adams, Mark Hopkins, Charlotte Cushman, and Lucretia Mot't. , „„ ~ ~ o c a Scottish Novelist," that charming writer, Mrs L. B. Watford, tells some interesting stories of the past, handed down in her family. Readers of Scott will be attracted by her account of how the great romancer came to depart from probability and right local colour in "Rob Roy. It is said that, the following is the first authentic version of a famous incident: When engaged on the novel—which preceded the poem—he (Scott) travelled down, to Loch Lomond side to collect material and obtain local colour, and presented himpelf at the then Sir James Colquhoun s door, confident of welcome and assistance. But he had reckoned without his host. That Sir James was my grandfather, and as stupid a county magnate as existed, though (perhaps it is not for mo to say it. Who and what was a mere Edinburgh lawyer to the Chief of Colquhoun? Mr "Walter Soott—he was not yet "Sir Walter"—might be a clever man of letters, but he was a person of no consequence, as Sir James esteemed consequence, and he slunk out by a back way to avoid an intrusive, -prying body, having ordered the butler to show him round ! Such an affront was never forgotten nor forgiven; in Rob Roy" the Colquhouns were absolutely ignored, and the scene of the "Lady of the Lake," originally intended to be laid on the banks of Loch Lomond, was removed to Loch Katrine! Mr H. J. Moors, in "With Stevenson in Samoa" (T. Fisher Umvm) says:— We never discussed the Bible seriously, SO' lar as I recollect. Reverent always, where matters of religion were concerned, Stevenson was not what I regard as a religious man—and this despite the fact that for a month or two he taught in the Sunday school at Apia. The interest he took in the Sunday school, in my view, was more that of the student of human nature, the psychologist, the writer of stones, than of one who was really concerned lor the spiritual welfare of his pupils, whether whites or halfcastes—for the full-blood Samoan children did not come under nis purview. Stevenson, though he was more or less a dual personality, was mostly Bohemian; and more than onee,_ to bis annoyance, has he been surprised in Bohemia. The Stevenson whom some writers have told us of—the man of morals, the preacher, the maker of prayers—is not the Stevenson I knew. Yet.it » true that he moralised and preached in his own peculiar way, and true that he wrote some exquite prayers. The truth is, there were two Stevensons ! And I write of this strange ' dual personality as I found it, not as revealed through the looking glass of the man's books." «•• After a long silence Mr Stephen Phili lips has produced another poem, "lOle New Infemo," which, although _ in an altered ' vein, is said to bear comparison with ' 'Paola

and Francesca" and "TJllysses. The poet imagines himself led by a celestial guide above the regions of earth, and conceives that "the evil that men do lives after them" in a very real manner. He sees Napoleon, "reviewing ghostly armies in the snow," amid a frozen world,, where God has "mislaid the secret of the flower. The crowd of women whom he has deprived of husbands, fathers, sons, presses on, Napoleon : A storm of hands, a tempest of wild arms, Invoking from above the Eternal wrath, All in a silence worse than any cry. The idea of ultimate redemption runs through the whole of the argument. The visitor inquires of his guide: " O, shall this desolate winter of the soul For aye endure; and must ambition here Spend everlasting-yeaTS in endless ice, Though self-created? Is no limit set?" He answered, " Not for ever shall this snow Hold him. At last the human tenderness, Or the world-pity to his brain shall steal, And all the numb Inferno shall dissolve." " Why, then," I said, " doth not Omnipotence Suddenly strike a warmth into his heart, And, intervening,, end this world of ice, Release the mighty prisoner from himself?" " The slow Benignity that upward: draws us," H© answered, " intervenes and hastens not; A dreadful leisure is permitted us, An endless leave to shun felicity." Mr T. Fisher Unwin in the Christmas Number of M.A.B. (Mainly About Books), referring to a recent discussion as to the' proper length of the novel, expresses the opinion that one precise and formal length is not essential, and in giving his own experience " writes: —"l founded' the 'First Novel' Library, the 6Cope of which is explained by the title; the only measure for these volumes was literary quality,_ eomo being low, some decidedly short in the matter of words. The series, which began with ' Wistons,' by Mrs Cobden-Sickert, has so far run to 16 volumes, not a very large number, perhaps, but the nature of the undertaking and the high standard imposed made it improbable that many worthy candidates for admission would be discovered. Of the 16 authors, five at least have had 1 other'novels published since. The aim of these writers was primarily to produce literature; critical appreciation and 1 other forms of success followed. Later, when I experimented with two prize competitions, to see if the production, of good' novels could be stimulated, the broad results were disappointing. Hundreds of manuscripts were sent in, but the average of literary merit was a low one, and only five volumes were published as the outcome of the two' competitions. This result would suggest that the undoubted present-day tendency towards commercialism in novel-writing has produced a certain decay. The causes of this decay are, of course, far to seek, but )X)ssibly too much consideration of such facts as lensrth, shape, weight, and size, and what one may call the so-much-pter-thousand spirit, are to some- extent responsible. In the interests of literature the beginner might be advised' not to think too much about these pure.lv mate-rial points, but to concentrate all his effects on the production of good work, which surely, sooner or later, will be printed, published, and recognised." For a person blind, dumb, and deal from infancy to produce any kind of literary work is sufficiently surprising, but that one thus afflicted should write a poem oi the calibre of "The Chant of the Stone Wall," by an American girl, Miss Helen Keller (published by Hodder and Stoughton), is nothing Jess than marvellous In form it is after the manner of Walt Whitman, untrammelled by any restrictions of metre, yet with a natural rhythm that is something more than that of good prose, and dropping every now and then, as it were unconsciously, into a few lines of blank verse. Thus it begins: Come, walk with -ma, and I will tell What I have read in this scroll of stone; I will spell out this writing on. hill and meadow. It is a chronicle wrought by praying workmen, The forefathers of our nationLeagues upon leagues of sealed histcry awaiiin.g an interpreter, This is Nlew England's tapestry of stone. The scope of the poem is not well indicated by the title, which requires explanation.

The wall, or walls, which have inspired Miss Keller axe those built by the. men of the Mayflower and l the early settlers, resembling somewhat, as the photographs illustrating the book show, the rough sfcona walls that do duty as hedges in Lancashire and Yorkshire, the author takes these oid walls as the text for her earnest and often strikingly beautiful reflections on the past and present of the Northern States. Tie. note of cheerful optimism and' of persoa&i joy in life and Nature is one of the meet remarkable feature* of the poem: I am bone of cneir bone, breath of their breath: Their courage is in my soul. The wall is an Iliad of granite: it chants t« me Of pilgrims of the perilous deep, Of fearless journeyings and old forgotten things. The little book is prefaced by a dedication, in prose, to the late Dr Edward Bveretft '• Hale. Those able letters on Indian unrest which attracted so much attention in T&e Times (they are by Mr Valentine have now been printed in - book formv! Emphasis is laid on the -.upineness shoim; by the Indian Government in ignoring tha vivid, almost maddening, writings in the vernacular press, _ and on. the mischievous I environment of the Calcutta student. See- \ ing that his only contact with the Western j world is in his English text-books inter-.j preted to him by an Indian teacher, we can, imagine' the bewilderment and ' the brain injury which must result. Khudiraar] Bose, who murdered Mrs and Miss Ken-1 nedy, in his confession, says:—"l came of my own initiative, having read in varices papers things which incited me to ooene to this determination. These papers were the Sandhya, Hitabadi, Jugontar, and maim others." On the Western side, Kanhere, who murdered Mr Jackson, says:—"l read! of many instances of oppression in the Kesari, the Rashtramat, and the Kal, and other newspapers. I think that by killing sahibs we people can get justioe, I nevetf cvot justice myself, nor did anyone I know. I now regret killing Mr Jackson. I killed a good man causelessly." Summing, op . the lessons to be drawn from Mr Chirol's careful study of the Indian situation, The Times observes:—"The great India—the real India—the kindly, courteous, and industrious cultivators' have no part in the vilification of their rulers, and the greafl (mass of the dense city populations' is out of sympathy with the Brahman conspiracy; for the overthow of British rule. Like all Orientals, they have been • waiting for • a sign, and for two years no sign came. Small wonder that the better heart and mind of the cities paused under the spel| of the Yugahtar. That papar, with' a circulation of 50,000, written in languagf 'so lofty, so pathetic, and so stirring, roused the schoolboys and the 'intellectuals 1 ' to madness; but there was no answer ont behalf of the Government, and it was not till 1908 that the Yugatrtar was suppressed* 'ln the meantime it had left an indelibJa mark on Indian history, and many innocent victims paid with their lives for the extracrdinairy supineness displayed during those first disastrous two years of Lord Minto'a administration.' "