A LITERARY LOG

Southland Times, Issue 21897, 24 December 1932, Page 9

A LITERARY LOG

ROLLED BY

IOTA.

BOOKS ON THE TABLE “Adamson of Wesley” (Felix Mayer). “The Unlikely Wooing” (Elizabeth Steward). “The Romance of School” ■ (C. J. Prescott). “To-day We Live” (W J. Rock). “Moreover” (Walter Murdoch). “Perplexities, Paradoxes and Perils” (Rev. A. S. Wilson)

A GREAT HEADMASTER Adamson Of Wesley A few days ago a cable from Melbourne announced the death of Mr Adamson, the ex-headmaster of Wesley College. At the time I was engaged in reading a remarkable tribute to him published under the editorship of Dr. Felix Meyer, “Adamson of Wesley, which carries to those who had not an intimate personal knowledge of this great school’s record, some idea of the stature of this man who for over forty years was linked with the college ana for thirty years was the rock on which it "was rebuilt and maintained. To New Zealanders Adamson at best was no more than a name —unless one were educationally informed, —because no history of Victoria’s education system can be written without some considerable part of it being devoted to this man of whom Mr Frank Tate writes with such enthusiasm and genuine admiration, but he was a great man and this tribute to him, written by many hands, discloses much that should be of value to the men in this country who are responsible for the direction of the education machine. Adamson would have shrunk in horror from the phrase, and yet in this country there is too often a dependence on machine-like methods. Adamson’s connection with Wesley’s teaching staff may be called accidental, but what a fortunate accident! Adamson a Manz man, went to Rugby and Oxford, and in 1885 was called to the Bar after reading at the Inner Temple. A bad attack of pleurisy sent him to Australia to the more favourable climate, and to practise in Sydney. But in Melbourne he met an Oxford friend, H. Telford-Ellis, and when he found Sydney’s climate too moist, he returned to Melbourne where his friend was teaching at Melbourne Grammar. Adamson, while waiting admission to the Victorian Bar, relieved Ellis for a fortnight, and this inspired him to approach closer to the teaching profession. In 1887 he was appointed Senior Resident Master at Wesley. At once he made his mark, but more especially on the sports side, though it was obvious that Adamson was intent on supporting sound scholarship with physical excellence, without making a fetish of the latter. From 1897 to 1901, he was away from Wesley, but in 1902, when the fortunes of the college were at a low ebb, Adamson was appointed Headmaster. It was a fortunate choice. Adamson rebuilt Wesley, and made it one of the great public schools of Australia, of the Empire. But for this country the achievement of Lawrence William Adamson has some lessons. It should show those who have anything to da. with secondary education that the secondary schools must be built about the personality of the principal. The idea that grading marks or an alphabetical brain of honours, or that bricks and grass, or sports records can make a foundation for a secondary school is all wrong, and it is the support given to that idea which keeps many of our secondary schools from the accomplishment of the work which is properly theirs. The personality of the principal is the all important factor. There have been many great headmasters, Adamson is one of them, and practically all of them have been Classicists. That is a fact which should not be overlooked. In the pages of “Adamson of Wesley,” one can see the effects of a great headmaster in the life of the community, and the power he can wield in shaping the growing generations. Adamson knew that education was not all books, but his recognition of that fact did pot lead him to overemphasize sport or to seek short cuts. He saw that Wesley had to turn out not educated freaks, not uneducated men, but men who were educated and who were men. Wesley’s traditions were the traditions of Adamson, and from him the boys learned that culture belonged to the inner part of man, but it found expression outwardly in ways that were not merely scholastic. Adamson sought to make Wesley a School which would put in firm foundations. He was Headmaster of Wesley for thirty years and when he retired a few months before his death, Victoria made public the fact that she knew what she owed this man. This inspiring book is part of that tribute. “Adamson of Wesley,” edited by Felix Meyer, published by Messrs Robertson and Mullens Ltd., Melbourne. CLASS AND CUPID The breakdown of class distinction under the power of love has been a favoured theme ever since there were class distinctions and family feuds, and one may expect “The Unlikely Wooing” by Elizabeth Steward to be popular. Here is a young girl of proud lineage—those people who are proud enough to scorn titles—who falls in love with a young man in business—the making and selling of guns—who has not been to a public school, and ultimately is discovered as the son of the old drunkard on the estate. In this situation Bertrand Sale, of Monningford, found it difficult to accept Tom Eldan, and Lilliard Sale found it hard to believe that such a man could overlook her lameness. Rocks and snags beset the course of their love, proving its truth, and in the end of a charming little story, which is never too sweet, never too sad and never too light, there is a happy ending. Elizabeth Steward has written her story brightly and she has a good sense of human values. Her people are mentally normal, and ingratiating. There are no villians, people are just the victims of their circumstances and very natural. Good holiday reading, this. “The Unlikely Wooing” by Elizabeth Steward, published by Messrs Mills and Boon Ltd., whence came my copy. A SCHOOLMASTER TALKS In this intensely practical world—which certainly can go practically bust —attention given to the dead languages is regarded as a waste enforced by the stupidity of old men who control universities; but I notice that Dr. C. J. Prescott, the late headmaster of Newington College, Sydney, reminds us of Latin’s virtue, in teaching us the value of grammatical accuracy and of clear definition. Very few people can say their English, spoken or written, is beyond reproach; but at the other end of the ladder is practically the entire population. New Zealanders, even those who call themselves educated, are careless in written and tragically so in spoken English. Ido not mean in pronunciation, but in the observance of reasonable syntax, the employment of words and phrases clearly defining what is intended to be defined. Our speech is a long way from being an instrument of precision. Prescott is rworth reading because he is careful

without being pedantic, and he writes firmly of a subject he understands — “The Romance of School.” Covering a wide range of subjects, which are presented, in unrelated chapters, the book really is a series of essays dealing with school and they are very enjoyable. “The Romance of School” by C. J. Prescott, published by Misses Angus and Robertson, Ltd., Sydney. A SLICE OF SYDNEY The author of “To-day We Live,” W. J. Rock, says in a forewarning that the names in the book are fictitious but the people are real. That, then, explains Peter Rose; who appears as the teller of the story of the living Sydney. No advice about the reality of Rose was needed, but- the author has suggested that he is a portrait and not a creation. So far as the reader is concerned this is a distinction involving no difference, but to stern critics it affects the merits of the author’s achievement. Those merits are large enough to be worth keeping. Peter Rose is a real man and he is the man Sydney has produced. It is doubtful if you could find his wonderful mixture of shrewdness, confidence, ingenuity mental cheek, goodfellowship, sympathy, and pettiness with the tang of dry-noint slang anywhere else in the world. Peter Rose is a small business man, and he moves in the ways that makes up the bulk of the capital. But he is not alone: there is Jim, his friend, who came to assist Peter in the conduct of his unofficial matrimonial “court,” where domestic troubles were attacked by direct methods, in spite of the risks involved. Peter’s maxims are worth collecting and he is a man worth meeting. Rock writes pungently and he understands his Sydney through and through. In the whole range of Australian fiction there is no work more authentic than this, and I doubt if there is any in which the humour is so effective—that, of course, is explained by the fact that situation and language are racy of the soil of Sydney. Peter Rose is a real man. “To-day We Live” by W. J. Rock, published by Messrs Angus and Robertson, Ltd., Sydney, whence came my copy. ESSAYS I ENJOY If one didn’t so hate the job of comparing, one would say that while Elliott Napier chats engagingly, Walter Murdoch writes as a man of wisdom who in his lightest moments will say something worth remembering. Murdoch has travelled further in the world of books, and he has explored with gusto and discrimination the lands he has encountered. He is a man of nice judgment, one’s ideal of a companion because he is tolerant, broad in culture and interest, good-humoured, and a humorist. He takes joy in saying the thing that is right, and of saying it in the best way, and in that you have the very essence of style. Of course, I find my mind so frequently in time with his, that “Moreover” for me is one of the most satisfying collections of latter day essays the English language possesses. This is such a book as I would like to have written. “Too Much Genius” is a blow at the exuberant literary criticism of to-day one has been waiting for a long time, and there is that new way of treating the Victorians in “Our Aunts,” in which Murdoch regrets that we have not the capacity for being shocked our aunts enjoyed! Some day, perhaps, we too will be capable of being shocked, because we shall see clearly what things make for life and happiness, and what things make for disaster and death. But that desirable consummation will only be reached by long and sore travail of spirit. We shall not reach it by any sudden or easy way—by wearing side-whiskers, for instance. There is a serious thought in all his jesting and there is a jest, neatly applied, to remind us that there is a lot of Puck in Murdoch. “Shakespeare and the Schoolmaster” should not be overlooked by school teachers, and “One Crowded Hour” is a X-ray on Voltaire, reviving one of the most vindictive of the terse descriptions Sir Henry Parkes coined for political contemporaries, usually while they were speaking to or at him. This one was “ a withered tarantula.” I doubt if there are many more damning descriptive phrases extant. Murdoch doesn’t preach but he does manage to squeeze sermons into a few words—or shall we say he keeps throwing off pills of advice which are as enjoyable to the palate as the most heavenly sweets —but there is advice there all the same. “The Art of Cursing” is good stuff, and who could resist “On Training Nightmares,” or a man who could begin serious essay with “I am fond of marmalade” and end it with The end of our present financial muddle will not be in sight until enough of us have honestly and patiently expored the question, What is money? We shall never see the end of our industrial troubles until enough of us have faithfully faced the fundamental question, What is justice? Murdoch is never too serious and he is never too light-hearted and in “Moreover” he writes from and maintains his place as one of the most delightful essayists of these times. Buy him and place him on your shelves as a companion for Lucas. “Moreover” by Walter Murdoch, published by Messrs Angus and Robertson Ltd., Sydney, whence came my copy. RELIGIOUS GUIDANCE The Rev. A. S. Wilson wrote “Perplexities, Paradoxes and Perils in the Spirit-led Path” as a “simple attempt to help.” It makes a direct appeal for the devout life, but never loses sight of practical things, though undoubtedly the author’s fervour emphasizes the power and value of inner spirituality as the rock on which to build. He guides the reader to the inward things with a practical approach, and though the language is dignified in sympathy with the author’s attitude, it is fluent and never mystical. Evangetical in spirit, it is a book which will make a special appeal to those who seek the comfort and spiritual joy of the Bible, without troubling themselves about the disputants. “Perplexities, Paradoxes and Perils” by the Rev. A. S. Wilson, published by Messrs Scott and Scott Ltd., Auckland.