LITERATURE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3018, 17 January 1912, Page 103

LITERATURE.

BOOK NOTICES. " A Sweeping." By the author of "Letters to Mv Son." London: T. Fisher Unwin. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) It is now known that Miss Winifred James is the author of those two delicate and daintily feminine books, "Letter& to My Son" and' " Morq Letters to My Son." In the present volume Miss James takes still another departure from the beaten track. " A Sweeping" is a brilliant and elaborate parody of a popular living author, who, in the introduction, lays oare his methods and manner to the supposed sympathetic reader. Tbo book is certainly unique, in that in modern days at least no parody has come from the pen of a woman. Here the author shows the opposite sex in the field of letters what a clever woman thinks of the work of one of its number ; and it is a very well-deserved ''showing up" of the origin and fatuity of literary " potboilers. ' . Thus :—" I have called this ' A Sweeping ' because it is literally made up of all the odds and ends I couldn't use anywhere else. It is extraordinary what you can do in that way if you are of an economical turn of mind, and have got your public to begin with. 01 course, you can't do it till you've got your public; but once get thein, sitting down to table, so to speak, they'll eat anything you like to give them. And it is their own fault if the food isn't always up to the mark. . . . I've been through the

serapbox thoroughly and well, and with the exercise of the utmost care and garrulity, I think I can manage to bring it up to the necessary length. The plan I have before me is modelkd upon a book I wrote some years ago, and which brought me my usual small (sic) measure of success. Taking all the bits out of the box, I divided them into 12 little heaps, which, for want of a better name, I call by the 12 little months of the year, beginning with June. In these 12 little heaps ycu will find snippets of all you have ever heard from me before, and if you are anything like you have always been, you will be perfectly content to have the same things over and over again so Jong as I do you the courtesy of altering the names." In the same way he tells " the simple story of the simple lives," of himself and his two brothers:

"We are each in his own particular way showing the world how to live. We have quite different styles and quite different ways, but we are all the same sunny, golden-hearted creatures, with our hands stretched out like kindly finger-posts along the dustv road of Life. The big brother gets 7s od net for his way, while E. F. only gets 4s 6d; but then I get them very much oftener, so that I should think that with my sixpences and my shillings and my'foreign editions and the ladies' fashion papers ail bidding for me, I can overtake him easily half round the course. And then there is the ' little brother.' He writes, too, but not so much as we do, because he has got to stand up every day and speak it, and that is not good for a book. You can't let your steam escape unceasingly, and run your engine tco. But we all do it. My big brother retrospectively, through a college window with a suggestion of minor music in the otting, and a dear-dead-days-beyond-reeall feeling in the atmosphere; my little brother from his pulpit valiantly; and I —I won't say mine" is the best way of all : I do it from the world, through the world, in tho world, by the world, and I laugh ha! ha!, I laugh ho! ho! with my handkerchief stuffed into my mouth." ■Needless to say, the collection of " Sweepings " which "follow are inimitable, and will be read with the keenest enjoyment and appreciation by those who have a taste for real literature and a contempt for mere pot-boilers. That anyone should have dared to parody the great E. F. is surprising—more surprising still that it should have been done so well.

'■ Troubled Waters." By L. Cope Cornford. London and Edinburgh : W. Blackwood and Sons. (5s 6d; 2s 6d.) This story shows very clearly that the age of romance and adventure in London Town his by no means come to an end with the introduction of streetsweepers and electric light. A paralysed roan is swung out of the hold of a home-ward-bound "cargo ship newly arrived fiom the East Coast of Africa, and carried to a small .house in a mean street in Rotherhithe The curiosity of a nine-year-old bov, Nevil Romney, is aroused by this event. He follows the invalid and his bearers. And from this simple act great results follow. The paralytic is a°power in tha drama and in the lives of ail ltd actors. At first this power seems to be used entirely for evil, and all who approch the mysterious invalid experience a sense of revulsion and horror, similar to that with which most peisons regard a snake. But experience proves thai whatever uncanny knowledge Mr Lerccnley may have acquired in the heart of the Dark Continent, he has not altogether lost touch with humanity. And although lie has been a slaver -and is a blackmailer, he performs —or ie the means of others performing —many kind and unselfish actions, even to the extent of obliterating his own personality for tii" sake of a-woman who has been faithful to him. Xo sudden change of character or outlook is recorded of this man,, and yet under the influence of a better environment the nobler side of his nature becames more and more emphasised, until, as we have already said, he has the courage to "disappear." There is much action in this book and a great number of characters. Nevil Romney 16 by no means the only hero; there arc two other young men who dispute that position with him. and an equal number of young women, besides many elder persons of both sexes, who are really much more intern-ting than their juniors, as the novel-writer*" of the present day have discovered. Captain Romney, the father

of Nevil; Captain Brand, head of the training ship Pelican; Oakenshaw, who "believed, with a. conviction deep as life in the virtue of what he called political action," and saw human society going about its business "like prisoners in a gloomy valley, closed in by monstrous rocks, which he longed to mine and destroy with "political dynamite," are excellent examples of the author's careful tudy of human nature, while the_ political meeting of the "Liberal" candidate, Julius Ramsbotham, son of a notorious "sweater," stows his keen sense of the ridiculous. In the Labour leader, Dick Denial, who is created a Cabinet Minister as a bribe to hold his tongue, we have an example of a type not altogether unknown in- the colonies; while in Sir Matthew Caulder we have the absolutely unoerupulous villain, who is, however, "duped in the beginning and fooled in the end" by cleverer players. Some of the most thrilling incidents are these connected with a certain silver box, ''within which lay a dried black hand, of a bigneso no greater than a child's hand. The fle&hlees fingers were closed on a slip of paper. Nevil withdrew it and read aloud, 'What was taken from me has made y'ou whas you are.'- 'lt's true.' said Dick Denial'with an oath." The Glory, lively its it is. gives rise to many serious thought:- 'of which the dried "black hand" is significant.

"The Book of Dan." Bv Steele Rudd (A. H. Davis). Sydney : N.S.W. Bookstall Co. (Paper, coloured cover, illustrated, Is.) " Steele Rudd " lias learned how to hit the Australian taste, and rake in the Australian dollars, and it is only necessary to announce another booklet from his pen to insure an immediate demand from the local bookseller. Nevertheless, unless we are much mistaken, he. like his betters — Bernard Shaw, to wit—is beginning to suffer from the demand of the public that the favourite author must be a man of one idea and "stick to his last" like any shoemaker, forgetting that the originality that first charmed them must be allowed to blossom according to its own sweet will or it must bear abortive fruit. The author is the 6lave of his public, and there is nothing that the British public dislikes so much in a favourite as the " unexpected." So "Steele Rudd" and others run in a grove and try to make us think they like it.

"The Fatal Woman." By Dick Donovan. London : G. Bell and Sons. (Colonial Library, paper, coloured cdver, 2s 6d.) A breathless story of adventure, faithful friendship, and devoted love by a wellknown sensational writer, whose tales, though generally impossible and always improbable, are yet readable and amusine. The scene of this story is chiefly laid in Russia, and " the fatal woman" is a lady of high rank whose- intrigues bring ruin on most of those with whom she is concerned, and whose schemes are finallv circumvented by the English hero and his friend.

" Before the Lamps are Lit." By T.nrella Quin; illustrated by Ida Rentoul Outhwaite. Malbourne, Sydney, etc : George Robertson and Go. (Cloth, 3s 6d.) "Once Upon a Time." By Alice Grimwade; illustrated by Una Le Souef Ealkinsr and Violet Teagne. Melbourne, etc. : George Robertson and Co. (Cloth, 3s 6d.) These arc two delightful colonial trift books which, though they may be a little late for the present season, could never come amiss at any time or at any season. Both are collections of fairy stories, with a distinct Australian colouring, and both are most beautifully and artistically illustrated. Miss Ida Rentoul Outhwaite's work being of unusual merit. A musical little poem entitled "The Path to Heart's Desire " introduces the leader to the ways and wonders of Tarella Quin's book, in which the promise is well kept that A child's way i* the lost way To our own forgotten past, If we seek it in the- twilight, Wo find the path at la.st. And in the haunts of Elfin men Beside the fairy streams, We pass the silver portals To the misty land of dreams. Both books are well produced. The stories are charming and witty, the pictures clever and original, the binding ornamental and attractive—an excellent output of an enterprising firm.

'Mr Harrington." By Roy Bridges. Sydney : N.S.W. Bookstall Co. (Paper, coloured wrapper, vight illustrations, Is.) " Mr Barrington " began his career as a pick-pocket in Ireland, and pursued the same course, though in a somewhat larger way, on the other sid? of the Narrow Sea. After many escapes he was caught redhanded and sentenced to leave his country " for his country's good." He then turned over a new leaf when it was too late, and died "under a red gum ' in Australia. From these materials Mr Roy Bridges makes a good story of action and adventure, told in his usual .spirited and agreeable styl?.

LITERARY NOTES. Mr W. D. llowells, who is now well advanced in his seventy-fifth year, who.se first hook bears a dat-o over half a century ;ii(i, anrl whose literary achievement cmbraces something like 80 volumes, is still busy with his pan. lie has completed a. new work. "The Vacation of the Kelways," in which, like its author's recent books, no failing in sparkle or vigour will be traceable. Messrs Harper are soon to publish the work. Wordsworth's objection to advertisements of books being printed at the end of the "Lyrical Ballads" serves, in an inverse way, to recall one of Stevenson's peculiarities in connection with the- publication of his books. R. L. S. stipulated with his publishers that on the fly-leaf at. the beginning- of his various volumes should be printed a list, of his published writings; and the practice, has much to commend it. At all events, it serves to

recall to the reader, on picking up any of Stevenson's books, the pleasure lie has derived from the others whose names confront him on opening the volume. ciety the other clay Dr G. K. Forteseue gave several amusing examples of books with ambiguous or totally misleading title.;. Such a. list might be lengthened almost indefinitely. One more instance may be recalled as not so well known. Dr G. W. Balfour, an uncle of R. L. Stevenson, wrote a volume to which he gave the title "The Senile Heart." A critic, seeing the book and taking, it to be a novel with an admirable and unique title, carried it off for review. Much to his disgust, on looking into it more closely, he found that, instead of a work of fiction, it was a grim medical treatise. Ruskin never rested till, illness forced him to do so. Take a single instance of the work he asked of his brain. In November, 1869, he tells Norton that he is writing a little botany every day, translating "Chaucer's Dream" into simple English, translating the "Cent Ballades" into English (all these three with the intention of publication), correcting "Sesame and Lilies" for a new edilion, preparing drawings for the Oxford schools, writing lecture'; for Oxford, writing papers and preparing plates on agates for the Geological Magazine, giving one girl lessons in French and another lessons in Italian, having himself two lessons a week with a music master and practising half an hour every day, besides reading Marmontcl to his mother. No wonder" the last years of hiVi life were spent in illness and silence. — Times. Mr Charles Harrison, after a distinguished career of 43 years in the publishing world, has retired from active service after publishing the twenty-first birthday number of the Strand Magazine. Mr Harrison began his business career with the firm of Cassell and Co. as long ago as 1869, ,and has many recollections of notable writers of forty years ago. It is said now that reviews never influence the sale of a hook. If that be true it was not always so. Mr Harrison recalls that when Farrar's "Life of Christ" was first published its sale was decidedly slow, until one day there appeared in The Times a long review, which was said to have been written by Sir William Smith, of Bible Dictionary fame, and by noon of the day on which the review appeared not a copy was left on tho shelves. A reprint was ordered, and Mr Harrison adds that the book hardly ever left the machines for a few years. But its send-off was due to the review. Lionel A. Talleirtache tells the following story:—Mr M., a, missionary, shortly before leaving England, received two letters —one from Archbishop Ta.it asking him to dine, and the other from the secretary, of a religions society, a very old friend, aisking him to preach-. Be accepted the Archbishop's invitation, and at the same time wrote to the secretary, but put the letters into the wrong envelopes. After tho dinner at Lambeth the Archbishop eaid to him —"Mr M., do you-always answer your dinner invitations in the same way?" "I do not understand your Grace." The letter, which was then shown to the missionary, ran thus:—"You old rascal! Why did you not ask me before? \ You know perfectly well that I shall bo on the high seas on the date you name." Mr H. Hamilton Fyfe. in the Mail, writes: —"Poetry is an acquired taste. Further, it is a taste which few prpple are given the chance to acquire. Here and there a parent, here and there a schoolmaster mav nut vounor feet upon the path which leads to the Magic Country. But most of us grow up without so much as knowing it exists. When by happv fortune we stumble upon the road to it ourselves, what is it that delights us in the Land of Dreams? First of all, the music we hear; that first and chiefly. Then gradually we sift out ]>cetry into two kinds. There is poetry which pleases solely by reason of its pattern, and there is poetry into which the crimson threads of emotion are woven. Here along with the golden thread of sound are two touchstones of the finest poetry. The one is, Can we find ecstacy in it? Has the writer got 'out side' himself or does he know exactly what he means? The other is. Can it be read without, a, break in the voice?" The principal lot in the last day of the recent sale of the Huth Library was a first edition of "Poems, chiefly in the Scot ti**h dialect." by Robert Burns, which was published at 3a in Kilmarnock in 17E6. The Huth copy is large a-nd clean, and is bound in the original tree calf. In 1875 old Mr Ouaritch sold it to Mr Huth for £36. At this sale young Mr Quaritch tried to buy it back again, but Mr Hugh Hopkins, of Glasgow, defeated him at £730, which establishes an auction record price I for Kilmarnock Burns. Since. 1874 12 copies have realised £2822, against the ag- j V legate published cost of £l 16s. Mr Quaritch, however, made up for this failure by securing the original patent, printed in vellum, "Appointing Robert Burns I gentleman, to the office of Exciseman," J dated .Inly 14. 1788. It forms a single sheet with caligraphic portrait of George 111, signed by F. Wharton. Geo. Brown. ! and Jas Stodart In 1886 it cost Mr Huth | £l2 12s. On this occasion, after keen competition, it wont to Mr Quaritch at £SOO. To almost every critical writer the idea of composing a novel presents itself j at some time or another in a pleasing and attractive guise. He has read so many novels, and so many of them indifibrent ! written; his critical faculty, finely trained, analyses the structure, the characterisation, the atmosphere, and detects constantly tii" most annoying" fauLs, with the result that j ho becomes impatient that the world should wait any longer for the ideal novel to be written, and decides that lie will write it himself, when he has the time. Ah a rule the novel is not written: and it is just as we!!, for the critic's and journalist's oingle novel is generally a dull affair, selfconscious from the first page that it has to represent all tho virtues of novel-writ-ing, with, elaborate avoidance of all the cliches and of the regular devices of the novelist's art, and with the determination to be original at all costs, so that such ! simple phrases as "said he" are tortured i irll<j most elaborate literary paraphraces. I The result is nearly always dullness: and I total absence of outline and proportion. Saturday Review. "Somo Firsts r.nd La^t- : " is tho ouaint title of an article Lv Mr .1. Harris Stone. M.A.. F.L.S., in the English Illustrated. in which he tells of how people will go out of their wav to see anything odd, curious, eccentric Ho points out, for instance, that tho western portion of Cornwall is bo rruxr*

beautiful or attractive than heaps of other places in England, but because it is the land's End, the First and Last of this island, people flock to see it. Each year he says, more and more people visit this little bit of Cornwall. One day in August he took the trouble-to estimate the number of persons on the motors, char-a-bancs, and 'buses he passed on the road as -he made a journev between Penzance and Sennen, and they numbered at least 700! The actual First and Last house in England is, Mr Stone goes on to tell, a sned where a woman sells specimens of rock. Just below this, as on© goes down the zigzag path between the rocks, on the neck of the peninsular i s a flat stone, about 2ft square, and rising 6in above the ground. This, tradition asserts, is that upon which John Wesley sat when he composed the Ivvmn:

Lo! on a narrow neck of land 'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand Secure, insensible. It i alo tated that Wesley wrote other hymns there. Apparently he had at this time (July 30, 1743) experienced a bad spell of weather at Land's End, for he writes': "1 saw a strange sight, the s\in shining in Cornwall." Two stories are told quite seriously by a contributor to London Truth which it is difficult to accept at face value. Tho first relates a system of funeral drill to which a wife in the shires declares she has been subjected. She writes-:—"Sir,--Some months ago I married , who is a well-known but eccentric man. After the honeymoon we retired to his estate, when began the annoyance of which I complain. Every Wednesday a, hearse and several mourning' coaches are driven up to tho front door, and mutes carry down from my husband's bedroom a coffin which ig supposed to contain his remains! Draped in widow's weeds, and accompanied by several of the servants, I have to follow this, my husband marshalling the procession, and dircctinj- the proceedings generally! 'Bo careful; do not ram the rails,' 'Bend your head more reverently, dear'; 'Slower, please'; 'Keep your distances; it looks so slipshod.' Tho coffin is raised into tho hearse, and I and'fcevoral of the household occupy tho coaches, whilst tho gardeners and others follow on foot, my husband drilling us until the funeral service is completed, even to the lowering of the coffin into the grave! I can scarcely hone that this letter will not be intercepted, but should it reach you, will you publish it. that your readers may know * to what lengths a man will go in indulging hie peculiarities?" As a companion anecdote to this tho strange whim of another rich man is described as follows:—"Mr possessed a large estate in the North of England. It was his contention that the superfluous energy of woman could best be exhausted by providing her each morning with a long drive on the 'switchback' constructed, which wa s said to have been six miles from start to finish. Pressing a spring on awakening. Mr set machinery in motion which opened the large French windows in his wife's bedroom, and started the poor lady's bed—with her in it—upon the long journev, bringing her back 'soothed' for the day!" A highly interesting indication of the Kings versatile tastes in literature is (says the Daily Mail) afforded bv the following list of books included in the library which ho took with him on his vovage to India in the Medina:

Essays and Biographies (Macaulav). FroudVs Short Stork*. Barlasch of the Guard (Merriman). With Edged Tools (Me-rriman). Saturday Bridge (Dalton). Twenty-one D-ays in India. Rulers of India (Thomason). The Newcome-s (Thackeray).' Pen dermis (Thackeray). The VirginiaiM (Thackeray). Rupert of Hentzau (Anthony Hope). Shakespeare. Lavengro (Borrow). Britioh Dominion* in India.. Domboy and Son (Dickens) Bacon's Essays. Chambers's Biographical Dictionary. The Abbess of Ylave CStnnloy Woynian). British Tndk (Jl, W. G. Frazer). Nuitm Roumsstan (Daud-st). Inquire Within. Wprren ITa«tircs (Trotter). Life. a* Sir Williini Butler. Finn ilia r Quotations. Oonc's" Oxford Du ♦''-nnrv. T.ifo of G-liicl»t-» , i» _<3'or'cy). Rnmwnrta of Rmnire. TKe Hrtnnv V-.-,.-.✓•.■, Bowo-d). Tlio Trv"- ' '-•"-■' K«ypt (Alexander). We>-'' = • ' ' " •—v-j jlo-l- - ■ • / T „"(in M'CnHhvV Buddh:?.' ' •*- ,r|r . W. Rhya Davids).