LITERARY NOTES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5279, 8 June 1895, Page 2

LITERARY NOTES.

[COKBESPONDENT " CANTEBBURY TIMES." J London, April G.

Eana Lyall (Misa Bsyley) is in bad health, and has had to cancel an undertaking to write the serial of the Christian Glohe next year. From the extraordinary popularity of "The Ealstons" in the States ifc seema probable Mr Marion Crawford's American Beiies of novels will cxic-1 even hia history of the Saracenesca family..

Tho "Life and Letters of Eob.r. Loui3 Stevenson," which Professor Sidney Colvin is preparing, will contain a large number of epistles addressed by the deceased novelist to James Payn and J. M. Barrie. Mr P*yn, I am glad to learn, seems to be making a wonderful recover j. Three months ago he was given up by the doctor..

Corney Grain's amusing little volume of chat, concerning a popular entertainer's experiences will be republished shortly. It has mitigated the sorrow cf the burly Dinger's friends to learn that the illness which killed him had destroyed the drums of both ear.*, ond thafc had tho poor fellow recovered he would have been hopelessly and irretrievably deaf. Ho himself often eaid "I would rather be dead than deaf."

Messrs Hutchinson continue to turn out new books by new w.iters at a great rate. "Eenie," by Janie. Prior, and "A Study in Prajudicee," are the latest. I have not read either yet. Mr Montreßor'a "Into The Highways and Hedges " ir, as I expected, a big hit, and has already run through four editions. AU the reviewers predict a brilliant future for tho author, who writes, I am told, under a pseudonym. S jme say, indeed, F. F. Montresor covers the identity of a young and charming womin of title.

Mr Henley has a weakness for clever youths whose literary . taetes are all askew, and who view success with a malevolent squint. One of these worthies goes out of his way in the April New Review to attack the " Literature of the Kail Yard," as ho gracefully terms the work of " lan Maclaren " and Mr Crockett. Fortunately both Scots can afford to smile afc thia crooked-souled unknown's ..our cackle. In five months thirty-five thousand of "Beside the Bonnio Briar Bush" havo been sold, and Mr Crockett's encceasea aro too recent and too complete to be eneered away. I went down to Liverpool last Sunday, and, as usual when in the "good old town," worshipped with the Eev John Watson, who was a famous preacher long before he became noted as a novelist. Thero is no fear of " lan Maclaren " following Mr Crockett's example and quitting the kirk. Story-writing is with him merely a distraction for occasional leisure houre. In Liverpool no Nonconformist movement can ba considered complete without Mr Watson, and he usually preaches twice on Sunday. After Mr Crockett had written " The Stickit Minister " he sent ifc to an Edinburgh firm. who. after the usual delay, roturned the book with a note assuring him there was no market for such things. Tempus fugit. Two years passed, and Mr Crockett received a letter from the same firm suggssting a Scotch writer should employ Scotch publish era, and inviting bitn to do a book for them. Mr Crockett thereupon looked up their earlier epistle, and observed in the left-hand corner the notice, "In replying, pleaso refer to No. 396 b." He smiled, and, in regretfully decliniog the publishers' offer, referred them to 396 b for their opinion of the author of "The Raiders."

Mr Frederick Chapman, of Chapman and Hall, who succumbed laßt month to influenza, was a tal ! , handsome, genial lon vivant. vVhen his uncle, Mr Edward Chapman, retired in the Bixties, Carlyle, Dickens, Thackeray, the Brownings, Lever, Ainsworth, Mrs Gaskell, the Trollopes, tha Lytton s and the Merediths were on his firm's books, and their business was second only (if it waa second) to John Murray*.. Mr Fred Chapman, however, lived too well, and, besides, had business lobsos so that he had to sell to a public company. Of course, he remained managing director, and 0.1 dit, did better for his siareholders thtin he ever did for himself. TheDickenß, Meredith and Carlyle copyrights are now the company's most valuable assets. Miss Braddon's husband (Mr John Maxwell) must also ba numbered amongst the influenza victims. He was a publisher, and till he retired brought out hiß wife's novels.

The death is announced of the late Charles Dickens's famous monthly All the Tear Round, which under the unenterprising management of the novelist's son, has failed to hold its own and will now be merged into the scarcely more successful Household Words. In the sixties there were few families in Great Britain able to afford a penny a week which didn't eubscribe to AU the Tear Rovmd. In it appeared "Great Expectations," "Hard Times," " The Woman in White," " No Name," "The Moonstone," and many of Lever's and (later) Trollope'a most successful novels. For old cake's cake people clung to the blue-covered monthly aa long aa possible, indeed, only a quarter of a century of somnolence and careless editing could have killed it. An ounce or two of energy and common sense and a " new series " on the lines of the more up-to-date periodicals would at any time have revived the old favourite.

It is rather futile judging (as Andrew Lang doea) what boys generally . read from the borrowing list for a single term of One particular school library. Haggard heading the list and Charles Kingsley being near the bottom, does not necessarily, or even probably, Bignify that our modern youth prefer "She" td "Westward Ho ! " It simply means that moat of the boys in that particular school had read Kingsley'd masterpiece, and that "Montezuma's Daughter," having heaps of fighting in i 6, waß the craze of the moment; similarly, to infer Mrs Henry Wood's novels are much read in boya' sohoola from her place high up in this list is equally erroneous. It simply proved a run (probably quite temporary, on "The Channmgs," und "Eoland Yorke" or possibly "Orvil College." Once the school had perused these works, Mrs Wood's name would sink down to the bottom. JFar tho dirtiest and therefore most popular volumes in the majority o! sohool libraries are "Robbery Under Arms" and "King Solomon's Mines," "Tom Brown" as a rule coming third. It was not very likely that an editor of

the proved excellence, experience and artistic discernment of Mr Lewiß Hind would bo allowed to walk about idle many honrs. Before, indeed, the admirable laßt number of the wickedly murdered Pall Mall Budget lay dying on the bookstalls it's conductor had several alternative offers preß3ed en him. He might for ene thing have joined the board of the Hour, but wisely refrained. Amongst many recent pretentious failures, Mr Williamson's paper stands out facile princeps. It boasts numerous dodges or " inducements" to attract subscribers, but that theße will suffice to ledeem | the smudgy semi - coloured illustrations and feeble cover I caunot believe. Mr Hind, I understand, means |to practically continue the Pall Mall Budget under another name, probably tbo New Budget. He will be joined in hi 6 venture by Harry Furnißs, whose Lika JoTto has proved even a feebler rival to Punch bhan I predicted it would. The fact is, a little Furniss goes a long .way. As an auxiliary the artist haa hia value. His Parliamentary caricatures have always been incomparable. But Lika JoJco was tiresome because tout Furniss. If Mr Hind can keep in check the overweening conceit which led to Mr Furniss' breach with Punch, he may prov. a very useful ally. Tho partnership sounds indeed distinctly promising. Mr Lewis Hind thoroughly deserves good luck. Let us hope, he may secure a bounteous consignment.

The best book to read to furnish you with ideas about Chitral is Mr E. P. Knight'- "Where Three Empires Meet," which Mesßra Longman have just added to their Silver Library. Mr Knight's harumscarum cruise in the Alert gave people the notion that he was a "crank" who must not be taken seriously, and in consequence the account of his Eastern adventures scarcely met with tho attention the book really deserved. It contains a capital narrative of the Hunza.-I.equr expedition which lod almost; directly to the present situation, and gives a vivid description of cn9 o! our "little wars" on the Indian frontier. This particular "little war" led to the distribution of no fewer than three V.C.'_ to tho officers engaged. The St James's relates that once, when sbme German officers were scoffing at our frontier fight', Von Mclbke reminded thorn that English officers did not go to the front in first-class railway carriages. How they do go crawling along precipitous riJgea or blasting their own road in the face of tbe rock, the reader may learn from Mr Knight, and will realiso how formidable a danger is that rollings down of rock by the enemy, of which we have read in the newspapers this laat few days. The reader will also make the acquaintance in these pages with Mr Bobertson, whose situation at the time of writing ia causing much anxiety, and may learn by what manner of men the British Empire is served at its remote extremities. The scenes of MrH. S. Merriman'a novel.*, " Prom Generation to Generation," and "Young Mistley," are also laid partly on this sams frontier.

The handy little sketch of Mr Gladstone which Messrs Allen have added to their Statesmen series, is like everything Mr H. W. Lucy writes, eminently chatty and readable. He calls it "a study from life," but ifc is evident from hie pretexts he intended it to appear "hot and hot" on the G.O.M.'s decease. When, however, the right honourable gentleman recovered his health, and exhibited every intention of living at least as long as Mrs Keeley (who was presented to the Qneen last week, on her ninetieth birthday), the publishers resolved to bring tbe booklet out immediately. Wo consequently read "Mr Gladstone's memory was simply phenomenal," and thafc " he had a wonderfully expressive face." But these slips are more than atoned for by an admirable portrait frontispiece photo'd afc Cannes on Jar. 25. Among Gladstone conversations Mr Lucy quotes one ia which he spoke of Disraeli as " tho greatest sarcast that ever spoke in Parliament." *•Ifcis to be hope d," Mr Ln cy goes on, " that he never heard Disraeli's definition of himself." Cardinal Manning was comparing what he regarded as the broadbalanced Gladstone of an earlier day and the Gladstone of later years. " You surprise me," said Lord Beaconsfield, " I thought he had always been an Italian in the custody of a Scotchman." Mr Lucy's story of the old Scotch Gladstone worshipper, whom the Vicar's wife discovered weeping over the newspaper, and lamenting "to think they'd use Gledstana sao ill and he sic a mon," is an aged yarn told various ways for a decade or mora, but tbe sequel which represents Geordie dying with "If I could only sea that Irieh question settled!" on his lips gives ifc quite a novel finish. Mr Lucy's booklet costs a shilling only and is neatly printed and bound in cloth.