DUST OF THE PAST

Taranaki Daily News, 19 January 1935, Page 11 (Supplement)

DUST OF THE PAST

POETS AND AUTHORS

(By

“Historicus.”)

Edward Gibbon, historian, died on January 16, 1794. To-day’s idea of popular reading, historical or otherwise, would hardly include Gibbon’s “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” Yet it justly ranks among the world’s greatest works. Possibly its solemn dignity, the stately march of, its story, bear a little heavily in these days of “snappy” narrative. Time flies so quickly in these days, and with the Broadcasting Company calling all stations on a winter’s evening, the “Decline and Fall” remains on the bookshelf until a fresh generation shall arrive that has a mind for the more serious diversions. It is as well, however, that he did not write it differently. Throughout the world the work stands as “the most impressive piece of historical writing in the English tongue.” It is a truly monumental book, a marvel of knowledge, accuracy and impartial judgment. It made its author famous for all time. Incidentally it affected the style of lesser historians to such an extent that until Macaulay sprang into the arena, historical writing, to use the words of a critic, “nearly died of dignity.” It took him 15 years to write it. “After laying down my pen” he has recorded,. “I took several turns in a covered walk of acacias—l will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on recovering my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame.” Gibbon was then 50 years of age. He never married, although he did fall in love. Gibbon senior, however, looked askance at the match and threatened to cut him off with the proverbial shilling. ' Gibbon junior apparently decided that the wolf and cupid were totally unfitted for companionship, so he fixed his mind on his “Decline and Fall,” grew very fat, and remained a bachelor. “A Superb Phrase Maker.”

Lord Lytton, statesman, novelist, poet and dramatist, died on January 18, 1873. While Lord Lytton may not exactly deserve a place in the ranks of genius, he stood with such men as Dickens, Thackeray and Disraeli. This 'in itself distinguishes him as a writer whose abilities, at least, carried him very near to the pinnacle of authorship. Before Dickens and Thackeray arose, dimming the magnificence of contemporary men, Lytton’s place in the world of literature was very near the top. Chameleon like in his abilities, whatever he attempted he did well, but unfortunately, he never eradicated the touch of artificiality that rather cheapened his brilliance. Mr. Justin McCarthy, in his survey of Lord Lytton, has declared that “no man could well have made more of his gifts. That he was not a man of genius is conclusively proved by the fact that he was able so readily to change his style to suit the tastes of each day. From each and every master he was able to borrow and produce that which no one else could have constructed out of the same materials.” He added romance to robbery: he diverged into historical fiction: he wrote plays and poems: with Disraeli he became one of the chief story-tellers of what may be described as the public life type of novel. Yet he just failed to top the heights that are significant of something beyond mere brilliance. A superb phrase maker, he contrived to become a great speaker. - While he missed the ranks of the blessed in authorship, as a literary man he stands among the greatest of his day. “Became a Farmer Poet.”

“Kyle for a man,”- says g Scottish proverb, and Robert Burns, who was born in the Kyle district of central Ayrshire on January 25, 1759, was a man. Were his songs not sung; his poems unread, Scots would still recall the life of this small-holder’s son, who, born in a clay cottage during a gale which blew in the gable, became a farmer poet, who ever held his head high, who enjoyed the friendship and affection of all men, including the rich and powerful, who scorned patronage and worldly advancement, and gave his heart to his country and to humble people. Scots admire Burns the more because he displayed the failings from which their national virtues chiefly guard the Scots—heedless generosity, reckless and wayward love, convivial drinking to the detriment of professional advancement. A nation which has been trained to seek consolation in the psalms of David, and not to consider the psalmist any less saintly for his matrimonial lapses, cannot honestly condemn Burns’ lyrics because of his conduct. Nor does it do so. After all Burns was a better husband than Shelley; a far more moral character than Byron; perhaps, considering the difference in their surroundings, little worse than Wordsworth, who had his lapses in youth, and grew into an arrogant, dictatorial old man. Burns drank, but most of his contemporaries drank harder; his misfortune was that high-strung nerves, rheumatism, and exposure as a boy worker in the winter fields had given him a poor head for drink. If he had not been ready to swoon at a glance from a bright eye, or to become tipsy after a few convivial glasses, he might have been a prosperous farmer and an acceptable exciseman—these being his two callings. But he might not have written poems full of fire, wit, tenderness, beauty, and pathos, before he died at 38..

James Watt.

Scotland has a right to recall with pride two birthday anniversaries in January, that of James Watt on January 19 and of Robert Burns on January 25. The second is honoured by Scots all over the world; the first scarcely recalled, even on the Clyde. Yet the birth of James Watt in 1736 is the datum line from which we reckon the modern industrial area and the rise of the modern shipbuilding and engineering industries of the Clyde, of Great Britain and of the world. James Watt became a mathematical instrument maker, learning the craft in London and practising it for Glasgow University. At the University he was asked to repair and adjust a model of an early steam-engine. Watt not only set the model to rights but improved the design and went on in 1765 to design a'?’ more efficient and more economical engine. He went first to Carron in Stirlingshire and next to Birmingham where capital, coal and iron were available for building engines. He experimented and brought out improvements for some 40 years, producing before 1800 a steam engine giving a steady rotary motion and containing most of the basic principles which control the design of non-turbine steamengines to-day. This engine proved suitable for all forms of factory as well as for mines. It made Lancashire and Yorkshire into great factory areas, and gave Britain the wealth which maintained the contest against Napoleon. It was inevitably and without great change adopted for use on railway locomotives and for steamships. Watt himself took out a patent in 1784 for a steam-carriage to run on roads but that was premature.