The Bookshelf.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVII, Issue 20, 15 May 1912, Page 50

The Bookshelf.

By

DELTA.

FEUILLETON. An Appeal for Literature for tiie Backblocks. IT i* not, we think, quite generally known th* good work the Literature and Educational Committee of the Victoria League in Auckland arc doing l»y way of supplying aeadkig for country school libraries and •hack-country settles, and it has seemed •io that an appeal for donations of •books, novels, magazines, illustrated paper*, etc., would not be out of place in columns that are exclusively devoted t » readers of b »oks. Those trtwii and country readers whose purses permit, of their adding the latest book< to their book-shelves, find who are regular subscribers to this and that paper and magazine, or those readers who are within a few minutes* d'each of a circulating or free library, (an scarcely conceive the dearth of reading matter in the back-blocks of this Dominion. A never-to-be-forgotten “black” month was one we spent in a ‘settler** home many miles from civilisation many years ago. \ dozen books of more or less merit, and the majority of them familiar to us, comprised the yhole library of our host, who had no conversation. AVe had gone to live the out-door life, and we were unprepared for wet weather. And it rained tropically and steadily for three weeks on jpnd. making the .'even miles’ journey to .tjie nearest township an impossibility a leaking boat with heavy seas. By the end of the first week we had come to the end of our resources, and took to reading that greatest bugbear of our childJiOod, Fox's B.»«»k of Martyr*.” the crude Frints of which had already been indelibv impressed upon our memory. At the of the second w. ek, by dint of walking seven mile- through a bush infested with mosquito-, the trace- of whose excursion- we bore marks <»f for many a day—we were row chum- then —we man Aged to borrow a bound copy of "The Family Herald." and a very dilapidated copy of ‘ Boccaccio." We candidly confess that we revelled in those opposite poles of fiction. At the end of the fourth week, and just in time to save our reason, the weather recovered, and a mail brought us a delayed budget of inaii* matter, epi-tolary and printed, and Jih be ame tolerable again. But the experience. though we have put it lightly >nd brn ily. Mt an indelible impression tipon our minds of the bareness and the Itarrowr ss of a life lived in solitude without food for the mind, or for recreation. Since > the A’i I >ria League w is < stablished in Ai<kl>r 1. in iny nt scl >ols have applied, for. a 1 i ’ve received, books to form the nucleu- of a library—a library that could be shared by young and old Alike. Many individual readers, too, in •the ba k-country. have been provided with reading matter, many indeed of the letters of request and thanks being *o worded as to reveal that their writers' Icnowledge of, ami taste in, literature was extensive ami fastidious. So we jrish. on behalf of the Victoria League, to make a wide appeal to those who have old book*, magazines, etc., to give away, to send them to Miss Statham, V?. Strand Ar.ade. who is the indefatigable secretary of the Victoria ? gue In Auckl and, who will, with the aid of the Committee, transmit such donations as may be received to quarters where the}’ wil! be trebly welcome, now that the dark days and wet night* of winter have set in. To those who may find it inconvenient to send books, we may add that parcels would thankfully be called for. Obituary : Jnitin McCarthy, Born November 22. 1830 ; Died April, 1912. Header* of a past generation will more familiar than the present generation, with the Justin McCarthy who died a few days ago, and who was the father of Justin Huntly M-Carthy, dramatist, novelist, and historian, to whom he is a worthy sucoeaaor in the realms of literature. Justin McCarthy, who wo born in < ork, did iot win his way to fam* quite as easily as did his talented •on. He wan a atauieh Roi.an Cat ho-

lie, and no Homan Catholic in his younger days was admitted to academic honours. As early as 1818, he entered upon the profession of journalism, remaining in his native city of Cork, in that, capacity, until 1852. Then lie went to Liverpool, where he remained eight years. Then to that Mecca of journalists. London: where we find him from 1864 to 1868, as editor of the ‘Morning Star.” From leader-writer to the "Daily News,” he became M.P. for Longford County, which constituency he held from 1892 to 1960. He also held the chair of the ■ Irish Parliamentary Party from November, 1890, to January, 1896. The Irish fatijne of the later forties provided the striping journalist with many opport unities to display that descriptive talent for which he afterwards became so famous. Identifying himself with the Home Rule movement,

and having an intimate knowledge of Irish politics, he became an adherent to that movement until the split took place when he became an anti -Parnellite. In 1900, he retired into private life. As a writer of fiction he had many novels to bis credit, but the most popular were, we think," ‘’Miss Misanthrope,” ‘ Dear Lady Disdain,” and “Maid of Athens,” all of which have still a vogue at “Home.” His histories comprise many well known works, among which may be mentioned ‘‘A History of Our Own Times,” “Life of Sir Robert Peel,” ‘-Portraits of the Sixties,” etc., etc. This veteran author’s latest werk is "Irish Recollections,” which was published by Hodder and Stoughton only a few months ago. A “Bookman” critic, in noticing this book, says:—"Readers who have reached middle-age will be delighted to find Mr. Justin McCarthy still alive and well, not kicking—kicking never was the forte of Mr. McCarthy, otherwise ho would have made a bigger figure in parliamentary Ife —but, talkng n these early ‘lrish Recollections’ of his, with a charm and a vivacity rather rarely to be found, we fancy, in the work of a veteran eighty-two ’ears old. 'Che novelist to whom we o>.e ‘Dear Lady

Disdain,’ the historical student who described ‘The History of Our Own Times,’ the politician whom Charles Stewart Parnell dismissed with bantering acerbity as ‘a nice old gentleman for a lady’s tea-party,’ is our creditor for so many hours of easy instruction and innocent. amusement, that we trust many a new year will come before so genial and popular a personality undergoes the inevitable eclipse.” Comparing the veteran novelist with the novelist of today. to the advantage of the former as regards rest fulness and urbanity of style, the writer concludes:—-"Written with an urbanity, a kindliness, a tolerance, and a mellow wisdom th... are the note of their author’s style, they deserve, and, indeed, cannot fail, to be widely read.” Gracious, kindly, tolerant, wise; could anything better or more fitting be written about the late Justin McCarthy? A Striking, Pen Picture of England Tin ier the Regency. In "The Green Curtain,’' Miss Brad lon commenting upon the days of the Regency, says:—The good old King was wandering, broken-hearted and demented, in his palace of Windsor, or in the homely rooms at Kew, sorrowing for the loss

of an idolised slaughter, whose death-bed confession had told him that she, eveBi she, had deceived him, and had made A secret marriage that must, to his sheborn pride, have seemed disgraceful. An eldest son, hated by his mother, and estranged from his father, hungry for power, deep in debt, ruined by a bounded and besotted extravagance, and logging for the sound of a cathedral bell that should tell the passing of a king. War abroad, and the fear of an invasion at home—invasion that was talked ot as something that might happen tomorrow. Patriotic fire burning long in the House of Commons, and England’s invincible Captain mistrusted and slandered, his victories belittled, his gazette received with doubt and accused of exaggeration. An incapable ministry, an Opposition panting for the catastrophe that would raise their royal Chief to unlimited power. To be “Regent without restrictions” —that was what the PriiK-e of Wales was longing for. To be Kang in all but the name of King. To dip liia hands into the nation's treasury and for the nation's gold into the bottomless pit of Carlton House •—that palace of bad art whereof the

buildings and furnishing, the gold and silver plate, the glass and china, had been more costly than battleships to defend Egypt, or soldiers to fight under Wellington. The great lights had gone out. Pitt was dead, crushed by the battle of Austerlitz, which had destroyed England’s chief ally. His splendid rival had not long survived him. Fox, the briliant, the urbane, the irresistible, would play no more ruinous rubbers, drink no more into the deep of night. Never again would the House sit enthralled —first by two hours of magnificent rhetoric, by Pitt, and then by the rejoinder of Fox, who took three hours to traverse what Pitt had said in two, with language as eloquent and logic as •convincing. Two great lights were extinct. Canning was still there, with his trench mt wit, and uncompromising power; and that bold young genius, Henry Brougham, hungry for success nnd unfettered by principle; Sheridan, the most brilliant of the Prince’s gang, on tip-toe for the triumph of his party, when the Prince should grasp the power that had so long eluded him. and should be "Regent without restrictions.” Some Quips From The Chronicles of Clovis, ' by Mr. H. H. Munro. Of a distinguished Anglo-Indian: ‘Tie could talk sense to a peevish cobra in (fifteen native languages, and probably knew what to do if you found a rogue elephant on your croquet lawn, but he was shy and diffident with women." Of a disappointed miracle worker : “An archangel ecstatically -proclaiming the millenium, and then finding that it clashed unpardonable with Henley and would have to be indefinitely postponed could hardly have felt more crestfallen than Cornelius Appin at the reception of his wonderful achievement.” Of the indignation of the Grobmayer family: "It was like one of flu angrier Psalms set to Strauss’s music.” Of an amiable worldling who had three thousand a year and a taste for introducing impossible people to irreproachable cookery: “Like most men who combine three thousand a year with an uncertain digestion, Lucas Croyden was a Socialist, and he argued that you cannot hope to elevate the masses until von have brought plovers’ eggs into their lives.” Some MacMillan Two Shilling Re-editions. Admirers of Maurice Hewlett’s superb novels will <be delighted to hear that Macmillan's are publishing a two-shilling edition of this author's works. Will the Senhouse series, we wonder, be included in this edition?

REVIEWS. The Green Curtain: By M. E. Braddon. (London: 'Hutchinson’s Colonial Library. Auckland: Wildman and Arey. 3/6.) ‘ The Green Curtain” is, we understand, Miss Braddon’s last contribution to Helion. Anil a veritable “Swan song* it is. Indeed, it is almost inconceivable that a writer oT Miss Braddon’s years should pen such a magnificent word picture of the stage and society in George the Third's time. It is the life-story of a great actor, who “nothing common did or mean” in the course of a romantic, and passionate existence, cut short all too soon by the dagger of a ma 1 assassin. who felt himself wronged because his sister, a lady of title, was to marry an actor, and, as he thought, an atheist. There are critics who have it that the inimitable Godwin of this story bears a strong resemblance to Edmund Kean, Irving, and Forbes Robertson. Well, Godwin may be a composite hero, but he is an heroic character all the same, and the work as fiction is a veritable triumph of that art. We have, we think, read everything that Miss Braddon lias ever had published. She was always eminently readable. She is more readable at 73 and certainly more worthy of reading, than at any period o,f her career. “The Green Curtain” certainly marks the zenith of her fame, and is consummate as a strongly moving human document. We strongly advise our readers not to miss “The Green Curtain.”

Jack Ballington Forester : Ba John Trotwood hloore. Illustrated by George Giblss. (Philadelphia< The John Winston Co. Auckland! Wildman and Arey. 3/6.) This is the story of one Jack Railington, whos having a greater love of Na.-

lure than love of military drill and war, refuses to follow the family traditions by qualifying at West Point for military service, and is disinherited by his grandfather, though he is direct heir to the Ballington fortunes. The series of experiences and events that cause Jack Ballington during a crisis in his country’s affairs to don a soldiers uniform and reinstate himself in his grandfather’s favour and affection, together with the tender love story that runs like a streak of pure gold throughout this narrative, and the splendid descriptions of Nature for which the author is so famous, combine to make this story one of superlative artistic merit, and strong human interest. As in “The Bishop of Cottontown,” Mr. Moore has a serious purpose. Deforestation lias long been recognised as one of the sins of the fathers that unborn children will have to suffer for. Besides being all the things we have claimed for it, this story is a strong, practical pl’ea for afforestation. On this count in particular we wish Mr. Moore ‘‘more power to his elbow.”

Essays on Duty and Discipline : (London, New York, Toronto, and Melbourne: Cassell and Co. Auckland: Wildman and Arey. 3/-.) The preface to this compilation is addressed to British men and women who love their country and its children. These essays are not being published for profit, but with a view to counteract, the lack of adequate moral training and discipline, the effects of which are so apparent in these days amongst many British children, in licit as well as in poor homes. Where such conditions are not found it is considered advisable to strengthen discipline in view of the growing cult of Hedonism. The writers of these essays “feel strongly that the present juvenile indiscipline is a serious social danger and a peiil to the permanent security of the Empire.” In this view they are strongly supported by many men and women eminent in varying lines of thought and action, whose testimony adds to the value of the essays. Wo have read the whole of this work, and earnestly commend it to all parents, guardians and teachers. Duty is but a synonym for happiness—chastened happiness, often, but still happiness. Discipline is absolutely

essential to the building up of character. The undisciplined human is like a ship without a rudder. Mere compulsory physical discipline has made many a decent citizen out of a wastrel or a loafer. Who can compute the value in time of crisis or danger of a disciplined mind allied to a disciplined body? In conclusion we approve most heartily of this work, and would like to see it made the subject of an essay in every school in this Dominion.

Two Essays on Wagner. (I) Wagner's Bad Luck: An exposure of 800 errors in the authorised translation of Wagner's Autobiography. (2) The Badness of "Wagner’s Bad Luck, by David Irvine. (London: Watts and Co., 17 Johnson's Court, Elect-street, E.C. 2/ net.) It is with peculiar interest and pleasure that we received Mr David Irvine's "Essays,” which not only constitute a stupendously painstaking, and scholarly exposure of the “Authorised Translation” of the Wagnerian Autobiography, but are also a spirited defence and a warm appreciation of the greatest 'composer the world has ever known. Mr Irvine's work has, we assume from internal evidence, been sent to us in recognition of two articles that appeared' in this journal, one on July 5, 1911, by .Bayreuth, and another which appeared in the "Bookshelf” columns of this paper on September 13, of the same year, and which was directly inspired by an indignant perusal of a “special review” in "Life” of the Wagnerian “Autobiography,” by Mr. Carlyle Smythe, and which appeared in the September issue of that magazine. We wrote for a dual purpose, primarily to protest against the showing up of the private life of genius: secondly, because we strongly felt that Wagner's faults as a man were naught in view of his incomparable genius as a composer, and thirdly, in an endeavour to show that even’Wagner's faults as a man were the natural outcome of economic ■conditions, which were and are a disgrace to the age he lived,' and we live in. Mr Carlyle Smythe clamoured for a portrait of Wagner, “warts and all.” Our protest against him is that he sb magnified the “warts” as to completely blot out all that was seemly in the rest

of the portrait and calculated to inspire the indiscriminate reader with the idea that Wagner was a monsTer beyond compare. There is a growing tendency in modern criticism to present highlyspieed and sensational reading rather than al! round impartial criticism about the subject or subjects under review. This is strongly to be deprecated, since man cannot live upon caviare alone. Most >i all it tends to kill genius <in its birth. In common gratitude the faults of genius, whether those of omission or commission, should be held excused for benefits received. Is there any human living we ask whose every act would bear the merciless light of public scrutiny ? To live the ideal set forth in Wagner’s work w|>uld be to be superhuman. Yet the men who have set the greatest ideals have been the most pronounced humans. But they have always been unconventional, ami ’to be unconventional 'is to be damned in ordinary eyes. It is the price that has ever been paid by idealists. Yet, but for ideality man could never have achieved salvation, in any form. Christ was most human on the threshold of Paradise. Wagner's "Authorised Biography"’ has, perhaps, given rise to the greatest volume of vituperation ever printed. Inexcusable in this more enlightened age, one wonders why? Is it from want of Wagnerian understanding ? Or is it because of his nationality ? Or is it because he is the Joint the Baptist of our modern wilderness, and the herald of a new gospel ? Wo have not epave to dwell on this aspect of Wagner, but must content ourselves by indicating the trend of Mr Irvine’s “Essays.” The first essay is devoted to the exposure of the 800 errors mentioned'an. its sub title. These errors may be held as proven. Now it is not

sufficient in the translation of a biography .or ; an autobiography, that it shall be a. bald rendering of the manuscript translated from, since foreign equivalents often fail to convey real sense and. meaning, and the subtle essences called spirit and atmosphere must permeate the whole, else the sense is distorted. And if idiom or jargon is used, it should be the idiom or the jargon proper to the period, and the country whose language is being translated. Impartial, yet sympathetic hands should

lie given the task, who should be thoroughly conversant, not only with the mere V i hiiiealities of the language they are about to translate, but po< seseeil of some insight into the general ■characteristics, modes of thought and expression, and the underlying motive of actions that might seem to be in defensible in the subject of the work under translation. Mr Irvine contends, and 'certainly gives ample proof, that th ■ translators in this case lacked nearly every qualification for their task. In the "Badness of Wagner's Bad Luck.” Mr Irvine criticises the criticism upon the authorised autobiography of the great composer, that appeared with its publication. And here we shall close this notice with a strong recommendation to all readers who have read adverse criticism about Wagner the man, and iiis work, to buy and read this work which if strongly denunciatory to journalistic criticism in some quarters, is justly appreciative of those critics and reviewers who “played the game” wherf noticing Wagner's Autobiography. We are not concerned with the religious element that has been introduced into these essays. Eair play is a jewel that is independent of sect or creed. But we do admire Mr Irvine's whole hearted defence of Richard Wagner who, since his advent has given a new and more glorious significance to life, showing also that peace and happinness are only attainable through tribulation, worthy emulation and strife. We strongly recommend the perusal of these essays to all our readers who, will be richly recompensed by their reading as they contain much interesting matter. Our copy has been received through Watts and Co., 17 Johnson's CourL Fleet-street E.C.