THE WORLD OF BOOKS.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LVIII, Issue 14331, 8 October 1910, Page 8

THE WORLD OF BOOKS.

INTO ITS HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. ; (By “Wayfarer.”) The World of. Books. By G.U.M. . . . J hope Yon have no'enmity to the liberal arts; Learning is an addition beyond Nqbilitv of birth; honour of blood, Without' the ornament of knowledge, Is but a glorious ignorance. . . . . . . I never .knew More sweet and happy hours than I employed Upon my books. . „ _ , —James Shirley, in, “Tho Lady of Pleasure.”,. ' ELIMINATING I’HE IfEDUNDiANT. The elimination of the redundant hqs (savs the Chicago Dial) been tho passion of some of the .grocteat writers. Flaubert, .in ■■■seeking ever to clothe Jus thought in just the right words with' not a shade too much or too little cu emphasis', attained lo something like perfection in exactly fitting the.expression to the idea. Cut his sentences; ami they bleed, such is the vitality of his style. Jules Reiiard, the French poet, novelist, essayist, and playwright, who has just died at 40, -is said to have studied simplicity and brevity of stylo with an enthusiasm amounting almost to mania. “I would rather,”, ho declared, “write a short story, than a novel; I would rather write a paragraph than a short story, a sentence than a paragraph. I Ijkc to rewrite a sentence twenty times in order to give it the precise form that host fits it.” This passion for restraint and economy in literary. style, -while if sometimes betrays one into mannerisms and affectations, recalls the excellent saying of the Hindu pundit, “A wise man rejoices more over the saving of a syllable than oyer the birth of a son.” ■ SAMUEL ROGERS. Samuel Rogers, of whom a new biography is announced as in course of preparation, was, .unlike most poets, wealthy, and it is rather to tho lavish way in which lie used his money in. hospitality and benevolence to his brother-authors.* than to the merits of his peerns that wo must attribute the prominent' position he occupied m the literary world of . his day (says the .Westminster Gazette). No one can pow recit'd the “Pleasures of Memory, tho; work by Ahich he achieved his ,poetic reputation, as anything hut an insipid production, nor would his “Poems ’ and “Italy” bo looked at were it not Tor the ninths'aftoc. Turner and Stothard by wliich they are illustrated, and which, it'is Said,'cost the poet between £lO,000 and £12,000. The pictures, however, sold the books, and . Italy, ■which when first published in a non-' illustrated form, bad proved a failure, ’achieved in tbe edition with plates such a success that tho largo amount spent on its production was more than repaid. The difference (between the reception accorded to tho poem in its “embellished” form and.that winch it had met with when it.had comp forth unadorned did not escape tho notice of the wits of tho day, one of whom wickedly declared that tho .poem “would have boon ’dished’ were it not for tho ’plates,’ ” while another, slightly altering Pope’s couplet on tho poet Quarles, wrote: — . 0 Sec where the pictures for the page atone, , ; ■ v i i • And Sam is saved by beauties not his own. ~ AN OLD TYPE FOUNDRY. Nearly all book-lovcra nro well acquainted with the nau;o of William Caslon with the Caslon typos, and they will therefore lie interested to learn that the old building on tho north side of Chiswoll Street, London, associated since 1735 with tho famous type-found-ing firm of the Caslons, has been handed

over to the house-breakers, the business having been transferred to new'premises . nearly opposite. William Caslon, the first'of the line, was born in 1692 at Cradlcy; Worcestershire., Reserved his apprenticeship to .an ornamental engraver of gnn locks and barrels, and in 1716 sot np in that business in Vine Street, Minories, and added tool-making (or bookbinders and silver-chasers. In the same year an eminent printer, John Watts, recognised Caslon’s skill in cutting binding-punches and employed him for that purpose as well as for cutting tvpc-punchcs. Ho also gave him tho means to fitup it small'foundry and introduced him to other, printers. Caslon’s business'grew, and in 1735 he removed to Chi swell Street, where ho carried on work so successfully that he eventually surpassed all his Continental competitors and was called by them “tho English Elzevir,” being particular-', ly famed for his beautiful execution of; Homan, italic, and Hebrew type. He was noted for his hospitality, and was fond of entertainin'' his guests to musical evenings at Chiswoll Street, where Handel frequently delighted tlio com- . pany by his playing. ; Dying at his “country residence” at Bethnal Green in 1766, William Caslon was succeeded by his sons, and since then tho business has been carried on uninterruptedly in tho building which Londoners will know no i more. IN THE NAME* OF POESY. It is pleasant to find, and good for tjio sake of literature, that Tho Academy, is still outspoken in some of its reviews of new books. The last number to come to hand contains a review of 'seven'or eight volumes of verso. The writer |.deals first of all with “Spume and Spindrift,” C. OaltCnfull, and this is what he says of this hook:—Tho number of people in this prosaic world who imagine that tho.manufacture of verso—wo daro not ray poetry—is their divinely ordained railing, is astounding: It is not a had sign, doubtless, that these desperadoes of tho pen should ho moved to express themselves in lyrics that occasionally rhyme quite..nicely, and sonnets that are a series of statements hopelessly correct, for, at any rate it. shows that the spirit of Poesy is abroad; the worst of it is that as roon as the clean sheet of paper is decorated with something that looks like a poem because the lines are about the same length, the dear fellows must rush round the town to find somebody who wili_ confer a dubious immortality upon them by printing it. The (recovery that: “min” jingles prettily with "pain,” and that several other words in tho English language aro assonant, teems to he made periodically and to cause a species of mild delirium; the (liiTOVcry .that it is one of the easiest things, imaginable to “scorn the homospun thread o( rhymes.” to write hundreds of lines of five feet, and to call it, blank ..vor.se, might well break tho critic’s heart did lie venture to wado through all that camo his way. Most of those poets manage one really good effort, and then sag. badly into positions which are calculated to giro the reader cold rhills. Listen to this from lit; Oakcnfull:— * “In tho silence of night, when tho old Dutch clock’s Pendulum sways with its tide, tick, - took,; • • • And the stars shino red with their oyes so bright. Between tho leaves (if tho old oak trees. Where tho nests sway gently beneath the breeze.” There are six more lines, hut we have a sense of responsibility which prevents us from finishing the “poem,” although wo may say that the last line is “From hogs so dark and dank.”' Wo suppose, that if Mr. Onhenfnll were quietly informed that tho ahovn was prose—and verv had proMV—cut into lengths, ho would feel injured and perhaps grow excited. Nevertheless, wo should like to point out to him that ho needs threo. things: Ideas, grammar, and some notion of what constitutes poetry.“Wovould wo could apply his own words to himself: “Your voice to mo is like a choir of birds. , . E’en though your diction, dear, is ofttimes wrong.” ■ With ono more quotation wo will pass “Love is not dead, but slcepoth, and , oftsoon ■ :. ‘ ; Cometh to mo on wings of radiant morn; i Grey shadows lie athwart the silvern . moon. , But vanish with fair Luna at tho , dawn.” We have* not soarclied Mr. Oakcnfnll’s ■ pages for “Old Sol,” hut no doubt ho : is 'there. Tho hook is issued by tho . author, wo note, at St. Budcaux. Let ’ him take the next steamer from Saltash to Morwellinm or tho Meir Hoad, and • try to set down in simple language .what - he sees, before ho attempts to philooo- * 'phiso; it may bo good (or his ajt.