Books and Bookmen

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 9, 2 March 1907, Page 18

Books and Bookmen

THE DOCTOR Ob’ CROW’S NEST.— Ralph Connor. (Colonial Edition. —1!( tiler and Stoughton.) Another stirring story by the author of “The Man from Gleiigary ” will be heartily welcomed by readers who are lovers of humanity pure and simple. In this book there is no complex plot to analytiealiy dik-urt. no neurotic hero or heroine indulging" in imaginary grievances or moral heroics, but a record of the lives and occupations—the loves and the passions— : tbe ext esses ami limitations the pains and the pleasures—the shillings and atonements of strong vital human creatures who. living close -to nature, like her. bring forth good or evil fruit, according to the nature of their development. It is in parts, reminiscent of the literature known as the ‘’Kail "Yard.” but’only so far as concerns the depicting of the Scottish character, ■which though transplanted to the Western Hemisphere t and living under greatly altered conditions, still retains its original characteristics. The scene is laid in Canada and Scotland, and the exciting interest of th? story begins where, at a “barn raising,” "Ben Fallows,” one of the incidental cliaract'Ts of the hook, gets his leg so liadly crushed that the limb has to be amputated. “ Barney Boyle*’ (the hero) assists the doctor, “ Ferguson ” to such good purpose that he proposes that Barney shall study surgery under him. After some demur on the ground of poverty this is finally arranged, and Ben Fallows becomes Barney’s first, patient, and, after recovery, his best friend. An amusing account is given of a wordy war between Dr. Ferguson and Ben’s father on the subject of sympathetic nerves, in which the doctor is worsted. About this time Barney’s younger brother, “ Dick Boyle,” is expected home from th? University, where he has been studying to become a member of that profession which is the goal of Scottish ambition (the ministry). The love between the two brothers has alxv;iys been like* the loves of David and Jonathan. Ben’s home surroundings are so poor and sordid that it is arranged in order to facilitate his recovery that Dick Boyle. “ Margar. t Robertson ” (the local minister's daughter), ami “lola Dane.” the new schoolmistress, shall form themselves into »i “ good cheer ” society, and minister io Ben. which is done, a nd lola, who possesses a wonderful voice in addition to a beautiful fate and figure, sing- herself into Barmy’s heart, to (he great, grief of Margaret. who has loved Barney < ver since she could remember. And with this love f<w lola, the tragedy of Dick and Barney’s life begins. An examination, which is to test alike the ability of teacher and pupils takes place in the local school shortly after this, and both teacher and scholais come out viih Hying colours on ex pry subject except that of mathematics, in which the teacher is proved weak, and which will remind the reader of “Quality Street.” The following extract from the book might with advantage be inwardly digested by teachers and school committees: But the teacher’s weakness in mathematics was atoned for. If atonement there be for such a weakness, by the ample strength of her endowments in those branches of learning in which imagination and artistic sensibility play any large part, aiwl a far Hveer- part, ami far more important, do these divine gifts play than many wise <*<lu«:itionlsts conceive. The lessons in history, in geography, and in reading. < eased to Im* mere memory tasks, and became instinct with life. The win de school would slay Its ordinary work to listen while the teacher told talcs of the brave days of eld to the history* class, or < ransf< rmed the geography lesson into excursions among people of strange tongues dwelling hi far lands. But it was in the treading lessoiis that her artistic talents had full play. The lucre pronouncing and spelling of words were fint incidents In the way o f <-xpressioii and thought ami enndion. After a whole week of drilling Which she would give to a single lesson. She would arrest the class with the question. “What Is, the author seeing?’’ and with the further question, “How does he

try to show it to us?’’ Reading to her consisted in the ability to see. what the author saw and the art of telling it, and to set forth with grace that thing in the author’ll words.

In the writing class her chief anxiety was to avoid blots. Every blot might bcccino an occasion of humilhrtioit to teacher and pupils alike. “Oh! this will never do! They must not see this! ’ she would cry, rubbing out with infinite care and pains the blot, and rubbing in the horror of such a defilement, being paraded before the eyes of the vague but terrible “ih<y.” Thus the pathway trodden in the school routine was. perchance, neither wide nor far extended, but it was thoroughly well trcd.b’ii. As a consequence, when the dav for the-closing exercises came around both teaebt r and pupils had become so thoroughly familiar with the path and so accustomed to the vision of the onlooking public* that they faced the ordeal without dread, prepared to give forth whatever of knowledge or accomplishment they might possess.

By this time Barney lias learntd all that Dr. Ferguson can teach him. and it becomes necessary for him to go- to the University in order to pass the final examinations for graduation, and in order to obtain the necessary funds he and Dick hire themselves out to the neighbouring farmers. An exciting account is given of the reaping and binding—in a given time— of a ten-acre field of wheat, in which the brothers win. Barney and Dick go to the university town, where, some time after, lola and Margaret go, the one to study for the operatic stage, the other the profession of nursing. The friends meet again, and lola and Barney become engaged lovers. Several unpleasant incidents occur reflecting on Tola’s reputation, and Barney insists on lola’s making choice between himself and her profession. But by. this time fame and applause have, become as the breath of life to lola, and she chooses the kilter. though loving Barney as dearly as her nature permits. Barney, not caring to trust himself in her vicinity, leaves for the West. After a year he writes, asking lola if he shall come to her, couching Iris letter in psuch a tender, manly.istyh? that Tola -is touched, ami asks both Margaret and Dirk what she shall do-. Both-advjse her to send for Barney. -During Dick’s absence lola and Dick have berti thrown together a great deal, and Dick had conceived a great admiration for her —not love —his love hopeless enough since. Margaret still loved Barn.y, and had told Dick so, and he had used* to the full the privilege of lola’s acquaintam*?; ' (hi the night of t he day she, had received Barney’s letter. Dirk and she w re to visit-the play, and. afterward-*, returning home, she tells him of Barney’* letter, and asks his advi< e. • • ; ’ •‘Will?’ she said, as Dick remained “Well,” replied Dirk, “what’s your an- • You know what hr means.” said lola, a little impatiently. “Hi* wants me to marry him nt once, atnl to settle down. ••Well.” said Dick,, “why not?” “Now. Dirk.”' cried lola, “do .von think I am suited for that, kind of life? Can you picture me devoting myself to the keeping of a house tidy, the overseeing nf meals? I fancy I see myself spending the long quiet evenings, my husband busy in his office <n- out among hi; patients, while T doze and yawn and grow fat and old and ugly, and the great world forgetting. Dick. 1 should (tie! Of course, I love Barney. But I must have life, movement. I can t be forgotten!’’ ••Forgotten?*' cried Dick. ‘‘Why should you be forgotten? Barney’s wife could not he ignored, and the world could not forget you. And after all,” added Dick, in a musing tone, “to live with Barnev ought Io be good enough for any woman.’’ ••Why, how eloquent you are, Dick!” she cried, making a little in«>uv. “You are quite irresistible!’’ she added, leaning ..toward him with a mocking laugh. “(’nine. lei us go.” said 1 Dick, painfully coiisiiouH of her physical charm. “We ce( ji'VHy.” “But you haven’t helped me. Dick.” she riled, drawing nearer to him and laying her Im nd u*m«ii his arm. The perfume of her hair smote-upop his senses. The beauty of her face and form Intoxicated him. Tie know he was losing control of himself. “A’ome. Iola.” be sahk “let us g 0..” “Tell me what tn say, Dirk.” she re-

>»We<l, smiling info his face and leaning toward him. “How can 1 tell you?” cried Dick, desperately. spiiugiiig up. “I only know you are beautiful,. lola, beautiful -as an angel, as a devil! What has come over you, or is It me, that you should affect me so? Do you know,” he added roughly, lifting her to her feet, his breath coming hard and fast. “I can hardly keep my hands off you. We must go. I must go. (’ome!” •’Poor child.” mocked lola, still siißllng into his eyes, “is it afraid it will get hurt?” “Stop if. Iola?’’ cried Dick. “Come on!” “Come ” she mocked, leaning towards him. Swiftly Dick turned, seized her in bis arms, his eyes burning -down upon her mocking face. “Kiss me!” he commanded. Gradually she allowed the weight of her body to lean upon him, drawing him steadily down toward her the while, with the deep, passionate lure of her lustrous “Kiss me,” he commanded again. But she shook her head, holding him still with her gaze. “God in Heaven!” cried Dick. “Go away!” lie made to push her from him. She elapsed him about the neck, allowing herself to sink into his arms with her face turned upward to his. Fiercely, he crushed her to him, and again and again his hot, passionate kisses fell upon her face.. Conscious only of the passion throbbing in their hearts and pulsing through their bodies, oblivious to all about them, they heard not the opening of the door and knew* not that a man had entered the room. For a single moment he stood stricken with liorror as if gazing upon death itself. Turning to depart, his foot caught a chair. Terror-smitten, the two sprang apart and stood with guilt and shame stamped upon their ghastly faces. “Barney!” they cried together. Slowly lie came back to them. “Yes, it is I.” The words seemed to come from some far distance. “I couldn’t wait. I came for my answer. lola. I thought I could persuade you better. I have it now. I have lost you! And”—here he turned to Dick—“Oli. my God! My God! I have lost my brother, too!” He turned to depart from them. “Barney,” cried Dick. passionately, “there was. no wrong! There was nothing beyond what you saw!” ‘ Was that all?” inquired his brother, quietly. . “As God is in Heaven, Barney, that was ah!” Barney threw a swift glance round the room, crossed to a side table and picked up a Bible lying there. He turned the leaves rapidly and handed it to his brother wdth his finger upon a verse. “Read,” be said. “You know your Bible. Read.” His voice was terrible and compelling in its calmness.” Following the pointing finger. Dick’s eyes fell upon words that seemed to soar his eyeballs as he read: “Whosoever looketh upon a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” Heart-smitten, Dick stood without a word. “I could kill you now.” said the Quiet, terrible voice. “But .what need? To me you are already dead.” When Dick looked up his brother had gone. Nerveless, broken, he sank info a chair.and sat. with his face in his hands. Beside him stood lola, pale, rigid, her eyes distended as if she had seen a horrid vision. She was the first to recover. “Dick.” she said, soft-ly, laying her hand upon his head. He sprang up as if her fingers had been red-hot iron and had burned the bone. “Don’t touch me!” he cried, in vehement frenzy. “You are a devil! And I am in hell! In hell! do you hear?” He caught her by the arm and shook her. “And I deserve hell! Hell! Hell! Fools! no hell?” He turned again to her.- “And' for you, for tills, and this, and -this.” touching her hair, her cheek and her heaving lo.sum with his finger, “I have lost my brother—my brother —my own brother— Barney. Oh. feol that I am! Damned! Damned! Damned!’’ She shrank back fiom him. then whispered with pale lips, “Oh, Dick, spare me! Take me home!” 1 “Yes, yes.’’ lie cried, in mad haste, “anywhere. in tlie devil’s name! Come! Come!” Ho seized her wrap, threw it upon her shoulders, caught up his hat. tore open the deer for her and followed her out. “Can a man lake fire into his bosom and not be burned?” And out of the embers of his passion there kindled a fire that night that burned witli unquenchable fury for majiy a day. A Jong time is to elapse before anyihing, beyond th: fact that he has gone to Europe, is heard of Barney. In the meantime Dirk has been sent Mown from the University for heterodoxy, and has joined the ranks of journalism. Sine? his rupture with Barney, Di* k lias been steadily deteriorating, and the time has come when Margaret sees he must be saved or go still lower. By her influence, he receives an appointment as missionary to labour amongst the wild, lawless workers, half Indian, and in most cases wholly pagan, of the British Columbia Railway Company. After a time, during which Dick has be. n doing splendid work. Margaret joins him as matron of a new hospital that lias been <‘iu(t?d by the company at “Kuskjnook.’’ Reports reach them frequently of the magnificent wor-k that is being done at the Windermere end of the line by a young doctor, who., siiigle-hamled,. and in the fare, of terrible odds, has crushed out a terrible epidemic of diphtheria at the risk of his own life. It proves t,o be Barney, who., in the saving of Dick from drowning in the rapids, forgets his

. wrongs and forgives his brother. 4o!b * time, ’.haymg tasted both of. the sweets and bitter of success, has found them wanting, and broken down in health, writes to Margaret for news of Barney, and bidding her remind him of his ‘’to come to her from the end -of the earth did she need him. At first, though Barney has never ceased to love her, he is unwilling to go to lola, but Margaret prevails, and Barney sets out for Scotland to see and bring her home. Where and how he finds her must be read, to lie appreciated. After her death Barney returns to Canada and his work there, and shortly afterwards dies through exposure at a time when unfitted for it. With his last breath he commends Dick to Margaret, which trust Margaret fulfils. The book is above criticism, and is unquestionably, the book of the hour. Every line of it is pulsing with the life of the heart of things. In it, throughout, ; is to be found that “touch of nature • that makes the whole world kin,” and in spite of the excellence of the author’s previous' works, it is undoubtedly the best he has ever given us. • THE FAR HORIZON: Lucas Malet. (Hutchinson’s Colonial Library.) v Though “The Far Horizon” will go a long way towards taking the unpleasant taste out of the mouth left by “Sir Richard Calmady.” it is still grievous fo read, and difficult to understand, how a daughter of Charles Kingsley’s can so belittle the church of her fathers as is shown by the invidious comparison she has drawn between the merits of Protestantism and Roman Catholicism in this new book of hers. But the author’s fulsome eulogy is too pronounced, and, in the 'words of gentle Shakespeare, “Methinks the lady doth protest too much” for entire conviction. The story is cleverly conceived; its herd and heroine of more than ordinarily interesting personality, and tells how “Dominic Iglesias,” the hero, contracting a purely platonic love for a member of the demi-monde, lifts her, by sheer force of purity of character, out of the depths of sin to the heights of clean living. Interspersed with the story are dissertations on religion, dishonest finance, social and theatrical usage. The reader is also introduced to the daughter of an old acquaintance, James Colthurst, who, will be remembered as the . hero of “The Wages of Sin,” and in whom the artistic temperament has repeated itself. The author’s description of London, as seen by Dominic Iglesias when a derelict of fortune, is graphically written, and will be appreciated by the reader. But the great city presented herself to him in the guise of some prodigious living creature, breathing, feeding, suffering, triumphing, above all mating and breeding, terrible in her power and vitality, age old, yet still unspent. Presented herself to him as horribly prolific, ever out-passing her <~wn unwieldy limits, sending forth her . childrt n. year after year, all the wide world e vtr by shipping er by rail: receiving some tithe of them back, proud with accomplished fortune to enhance her glory, or, disgraced or broken, slinking homeward to the cover of her f«»g and darkness merely io swell the numbers <-f the nameless who rot and die. He thought of those others, ' tec—and this touched his young ardour with a quick shudder of personal fear—wheni she never eends forth at all: but holds close in bondage all their lives long, enslaved to her countless and tyrant activities by their own poverty, or by their fellow-creatures’ misfortunes, cruelties, and • sins. Was it thus sfre was going to deal with him, Dominie Iglesias? How seurvily, as this world conceives fortune, will be seen in the book’s sad denouement, where, at Dominic's death, his only mourners are “George Lovegrove," his old schoolfellow, and ‘ Poppy St. John,'’ the reelaime-J Magdalen. The hook is well worthy of perusal. ■

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