The Bookshelf.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIX, Issue 23, 4 June 1913, Page 44

The Bookshelf.

By

DELTA,

FEUILEETON. George Gissing Memorial. a PROJECT is on foot at the instance of the “Manchester Guardian,” backed by many distinguished men of letter*. to set up some permanent memorial to George Gissing. ft is peculiarly fitting that Manchester, at whose University Giving was the most brilliant classical scholar of his day. should have broached this subject of a memorial. George Gissing, in common with many writers, ha* been more, appreciated in death than in life, ami it is pleasing to see that the .t‘2ooo which it is proposal to raise for this purpose is to be devoted to thefounding of a Gissing scholarship for the encouragement of literary studies, the said scholarship to be attached to Victoria College, Manchester. which place Gissing left under such sad circumstances. Ou Anglo-India. Readers conversant with Mr. Rudyard Kipling’s “Song of the English” will remember the following lines on Madras — •‘(’live kissed me on the month ami eyes and brow, Wonderful kisses, so that I became Crowned above queens—a withered beldame now, Brooding on ancient fame.’’ And so to lovers of this succinctly condensed history of Madras, once the most famous of all the Indian presidencies, the

announcement that Mr. John Murray is to publish for the Government of India a volume which recounts the glories of that ancient city, will be received with special interest. The work opens with an account of the city of Madras from the first settlement by the English in 1640 to the end of the eighteenth century. and it i* aptly entitled estiges of Old Madras.*’ Madras, the oldest of the three presidency capitals, was established, like Calcutta, on a site where no important native town existed, and its history was first made by the East India Company. To tho*e who care to trace the adaptation of British institutions to the needs of our Indian Empire, this book can be commended. The administrator, the soldier, the sailor, the lawyer. the doctor, the engineer, the journalist. the man of -science, the educationalist, the numismatist, will each find fnatfer belonging to his particular interests. The Flan of the Work. The author. Colonel IL I). Love, makes the records tell their own tale. The extracts from them. often replete with picturesque archaism, are so grouped th.it. connected by explanatory text, they form a continuous narrative. This plan, though it adds to the bulk of the work, ha* the adv antage’of picturing the impressions of eyewitnesses of the events recorded. The more striking epistub of Madras •history,, such as the singular insurrection and usurpation of Sir Edward Winter, the capture of the adjacent town of San Thome by the French under la Haye, the siege of Fort St. George by Count Lully, the arrest, captivity, and death of Lord Pigot. ami the incursion of Hyder Ali in 17SO. are describe I without restraint of space. In

some instances the official documents are supplemented by contemporary accounts from MSS. and printed books. Incidentally, the documents quoted settle the long-disputed question regarding the parchment of a private gratification to de la Bourdonnais. Some Revelations Anent Robert Orme. The revelation of a passage in the life of Robert Orme will occasion surprise. Orme's history of the protracted struggle between English and French for supremacy in India, related with a minuteness which was initiated by Kinglake a century later, won the commendation of Sir William Jones, and the praise of Macaulay. It is well known that Orme began service in Bengal, and that during a visit to England in 1753-4 he was appointed a Councillor at Madras, where he remained four yeans. The circumstance is now disclosed that he was sent to Madras to report confidentially on the character and conduct of liis colleagues in Council, with the prospective reward of succession to the high test post. Odious as was the role of informer, he nevertheless performed his task in. private letters to the deputy-chairman of the company. Indiscretion on the part of his correspondent excited suspicion in India. Orme found himself shunned by his former associates, and his position became so intolerable that he was on the point of resigning when intimation reached Madras that he was

to succeed Mr. Pigot. At this juncture his conduct laid him open to attack, lie was condemned, and permitted to resign. On his way Home his ship was taken by the French, and the damnatory documents in his case were lost. Reaching England, he began his literary work, but it was not until 1769 that the company condoned hte offence and appointed him their historiographer, a post he retained until his death in 1801. Explanation of the Term Bridget.” Writing in “My Own Times,*’ Lady Dorothy Nevill dilates interestingly on travel in early Victorian days. So bad were the roads that it was no uncommon thing to have to stop for lengthy repairs to the coach, and so each coach carried, concealed under what is known as a hammer-cloth, a full kit or “budget’’ of tools, linchpins and naile. The term “budget” now synonymous with the financial statement of the Chancellor erf the Exchequer to Parliament, originated in a way not generally known It was originally derived from the Norman-French word bougette. signifying a leather purse or wallet. It was the custom in the early Parliaments of England to put into a leather bag or bougette, the accounts submitted to the and hence the word passed from the containant to the thing contained, and. with this new signification, returned to France. The word “budget” is first officially used in the arret of the Consuls, 4th Thermidor, year X. ami Germinal, year XL. of the Republic. A New Bazin Novel. In his new novel “The Redeemer,” M. Rem* Buzin introduces his readers to some* aspects of French provincial life with which few English readers are

familiar. As in ‘‘The Nun,” is shown the grievous results of the anticlerical movement, especially as it affects rural education. No more delightful love story than that which illumines this work has ever been conceived by M. Bazin. M. Bazin is one of the few staunch Catholice of France, who live in the hope of one day seeing France once more under religious sway. He and Anatole France divide between them the honour of being the premier novelists of France. Yet their styles are totally dissimilar. IM. France holds a brief for the romantic and the classical school of fiction. M. Bazin is the champion and the eloquent mouthpiece of the poor and the oppressed. The Arden Shakespeare. The Messrs. Methuen’s latest addition to their Arden Shakespeare is “The Winter’s Tale.* lit has been specially edited by Mr. F. W. Moorman, of Leeds University, who contributes the introduction and copious notes. In. dealing with the question of sources, he devotes considerable space, Slot only to Green's ‘Pandosto,’ but the lesser known poem of Francis, Sabie, “The Fisherman’s Tale.” Attractively bound, this volume, which has been issued at 2/6 net, should find a ready sale among Shakespearean students. ? Journalism and Literature. Says the “Literary World:” —“There is a close connection in these days between journalism and literature; the newspaper 1 *’ps the novelist by discussing the subject of his last book, and the novelist spmetimes helps the newspaper by lending his name to initiate a controversy on some real or pretended evil or grievance, which brings grist to the newspaper mill in the shape of unpaidfor contributions from the public. Thus, a leading novelist recently started a newspaper controversy about the meat trade. It synchronised with the dull season in the book world, and has doubtless helped to entertain readers who were tired of the imaginary sorrows of fiction.” The Two Leading Women Novelists. Mr. Thomae Seeeombe. a leading Home writer and critic, recently expressed the opinion at a Bronte society meeting, that the two women most entitled to the premier place in the ranks of women novelists of the present day, are Mrs. Humphry Ward and Miss Edith Wharton. There can, I think, be no doubt but that Mrs. Ward is justly entitled to this distinction. About Miss Edith Wharton's title 1 am dubious. Her workmanship is superb, but she lacks the more human style of Mrs. Ward, and her outlook on life is too sombre. Life to her is tragedy unredeemed. Mr.' Seecombe also ranks George Meredith above Thomas Hardy, which is not surprising in Mr. Seeeombe. “ The chief objection,” says a Literary World writer, “ to these pronouncements, is that they almost always invariably reflect nothing more than the personal preference of the speaker. We can recall the heated discussions that used to go on thirty years ago as to the relative merits of Dickens and Thackeray. To-day the competitors are more numerous, and half a dozen

names at onee occur to us as likely to be put forward, although we should ba inclined to back Mr. Rudyard Kipling for first place. It would be more difficult to name the candidate for second place.” Aneut Mr Stephen Reynolds. That virtue does not always go unrewarded is evidenced by the fact that Mr. Stephen Reynolds, the incomparable limner of the longshoreman, has been appointed to the Departmental Committee on Inshore Fisheries. Mr. Reynolds, who is thirty years of age, in a B.Se. of Manchester, but for some years he has led the life of a working fisherman at Lidmouth. REVIEWS. Olivia in India : By <). Douglass. (London: Hodder and Stoughton. 3/C.) “ Olivia in India ” takes the form of a series of letters written by a young Scotch lady visiting India, to a masculine friend in Germany, in whom it may be assumed the young lady is specially interested. Very brightly and spontaneously written indeed, are these letters,

and very humorous and realistic are the author's descriptions of her cabin ni.ites, and the numerous incidents and experiences of the voyage. Indeed, the charm of these letters lies in their perfect naturalness. Here are set down no impossible happenings, nor is there any attempt at caricature. Life in Calcutta, and a visit to Darjeeling, to catch a glimpse of the eternal snows of Mount Everest, are depicted with the same zest and naturalness, and reveal the same keen observation of people and things, the same keen perception of what is beautiful, good, or rare, and the same tolerant sympathy for whatever is human, be it white or brown, that characterise the epistles descriptive of the voyage to India. In a few lines the reader is treated to a sharp comparison between East and West. At Tollygungc, a suburb of C alcutta, where fashionable Calcutta throngs for racing, golfing, and less strenuous sport, or to tea at the Tollygunge clubhouse, the author says: “■\ou know, the jungle is quite near Calcutta. When I lie at nights and listen to the jackals howling, I remember Kipling’s story, and wonder if we were driven out and the jungle let in, how long it would be before Calcutta became a habitation for the beasts of the field. At tea yesterday at Tollygunge, ‘Chili the Kite,' hovering in mid-air, watched us jealously. Suddenly there was a swoop, a dark flutter of wings, a startled squeak from G., and our cake was gone. That’s India! Tea finished, while we still sat loth to leave, a curious odour forced itself upon our attention. G. sniffed, 1 sniffed. ‘Whatever is it?' asked G. Mrs. Townley pointed riverwards to where a thin blue-grey smoke rose and hung like a cloud in the hot still air. ‘lt’s a burning ghat,’ she said, ‘They are burning a body.’ And that is India."

Love Conquers All Things : By Arthur Applin. (London and Melbourne: Ward, Lock and Co.) This is a very cleverly Concocted story of a case of lost memory. Sir George Hetherington returns home to his ancestral estates in England after many years’ sojourn abroad. A motor car is sent to meet him, which assumed!y has met with an accident on the way back, for a labourer on the Hetherington estate finds the damaged car in a lane near the Hetherington village, with the chauffeur lying dead some yards from it, and another man, presumedly Sir George, •lying close to it with a fearful wound at the back of his head, and unconscious. On recovering consciousness the “man” finds that his memory is an absolute blank. How he came there he does not know, nor how the accident happened. Told that he is Sir George Hetherington, he accepts the role and becomes very popular with his tenants and neighbours. Directly after the presumed Sir George had arrived home, he had been interviewed by a strange man, who swore that he had seen Sir George commit a murder, and that the motor accident had been deliberately planned to deprive the chauffeur of his life in order that, he might not give evidence incriminating his master. Unable to remember anything. Sir George is foolish enough to give blackmail, and, though he is convinced he has never taken life, yet so obscured are his faculties that he cannot deny the allegations, which, of course, adds to the horror and ■difficulty of his situation. Tt would not be fair to give away any more of Mr. Applin’s story, whose plot is as originally conceived as it is naturally worked to a satisfactory denouement. Of course, there is a woman in the ease. Indeed, there are two. One. who is a villaincss of a quite new type, and the heroine, who splendidly proves that there is no evil however great that cannot be conquered ,bv love. In ‘‘Love Conquers All Things” Mr. Applin is certainly seen at his best. The Golden Girl : By A. and C. Askew. (Ward, Lock and Co.) Harold Lyn ton. of Sandcroft Hall, in the ( ounty of Sussex, had for many years been obsessed by dreams of an ideally beautiful girl whose love for him was to be also of the ideal order. A ball is given by one of his friends for the purpose of bringing Harold up to the scratch in the matter of proposing for i’e bund of a prettv heiress. Harold is poor, and just when ho is on the point of proposing to this desirable girl, he sees approaching the girl of bis dreams.

An introduction is effected, and as be becomes more intimately acquainted with his dream-girl, he finds that her character is anything but ideal. And so after many days he becomes reconciled to his first love, and they marry and •live happy ever after. This story, though it has some elements of originality, does not come up to the Askew’s usual standard, which at best is not a very high one. Like English Gentlemen : By the Authors of “Where's Master?” (London: Hodder and Stoughton.) “Like English Gentlemen,” dedicated by its authors to little Peter Scott, son of that brave explorer and gallant gentleman, the late Captain Robert Falcon Scott, gives a resume of the last days of the trip to the South Pole and its disastrous ending. Besides being valuable as a memento of that tragic journey, it has been issued, I imagine, for the purpose of raising funds for those whom Captain Scott has left dependant. The London “Daily Chronicle” Has started a fund to aid in making provision for the future of Peter Scott and other relatives and dependants of Captain Scott and his heroic comrades, and if, after reading his little story, any reader feels that he would like to send a trifle to augment this fund, the “Daily Chronicle,” Fleet Street, London, would be glad to receive it. Though this Dominion responded nobly to the call made, there are many, I feel confident, who had no chance of contributing their inite. To these, I commend Mr. J. M. Barrie’s appeal, who cays: “Almost every Briton alive has been prouder these last days because a message from a tent has shown him hoay the breed lives on”; but it seenm almost time to remind him of that more practical Englishman who said of a friend in need: “I am sorry for him £5; how much are you sorry?” I will conclude with those last words of Captain Scott’s, which came, as it were, from the grave: “But if we have been willing to give our lives to this country, I appeal to our countrymen to see that those that depend on us are properly cared for. Had we lived, iMfliould have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and zmr dead bodies must tell the tale, but surely a great, rich country like ours will see that those that are dependant on us are properly provided for.” BITS FROM THE NEW BOOKS. A Ghost From “ The Grey Book.” “One night, about twelve o’clock, a friend of mine, who was then living in ——Gardens, was taking her dog out for a walk, when she saw, in the middle of the road a man, gorgeously dressed in a brocade costume, such as was worn by cavaliers in the reign of King Charles. Thinking he had come from a fancy dress ball .and was walking home in the cool air—-for it was a beautiful summer night —she was not in the least alarmed. He walked down ■ —* — Gardens, keeping in front of her. and as he reached the end, he turned towards the old Tudor cottage, which is supposed to have been a shoot-ing-lodge of Henry VIII. Feeling sure he lived there, she waited for him to ring the bell or open the door with his latchkey, when, to her amazement, he never •hesitated, but walked straight through the wall!”—“The Grey Ghost Book,” by J. A. Middleton. Clever People “When improvements come in at the door of the mind, mirth flies out of the window.” “People who are always talking of their souls ought to make sure they have •got them before they begin to trouble.” “A clever woman who shows her cleverness is like a scented, painted creature. If you are near her you gasp for a breath of fresh, natural air and wish her at Jericho.”—“Old Days and Ways,” by Jane Connolly. . A “ Based ” Hero. “T was taken aw.ay from my mother?’ repeated the young man, in a dazed kind of way. . . . *Be quiet for a minute, will you?’ lie said, as he started to walk around the room. ‘1 think I am a little dazed.’ . . ‘You are heir to the Kildare estates.’ ‘Pardon me,’ said Denis, after a time of intense silence,

‘will you kindly repeat thad hast sentence again? I think I am rather dazed.’”- -’’Rosaleen O’Hara.” by Joseph Hocking. Virtues and Whims. “It is more gratifying to have one's tastes remembered than one’s virtues.”— ‘■The Illusions of Mr. and Mrs. Brcssiiwham,” by Gerard Bendall. New Use for Admirers. “ Where’s the use of having an admirer if you don’t give him a piece of your mind ?”—“a tie Andersons,” by 8. (Macnaughtan Answered. When the late Sir Henry Irving was entertained at dinner at one of the Oxford colleges, he was asked by a don, “ Are you a University man. Sir Henry’” “Oh, no,” said Irving; “I keep a Secretary who was.” Bernard Shaw, when asked the same snobbish question, replied, “ I never was educated in your meaning of the term. In fact, my education was interrupted by my schooldays.”—“ Daily Chronicle.” Onr Pitiable Condition. Nothing to do but work, Nothing to eat but food; Nothing to wear but clothes, To keep one from going nude. Nothing to breathe but air, Quick as a flash ’tis gone; Nowhere to fall but off, Nowhere to stand but on. Nothing to comb but hair. Nowhere to sleep but in bed. Nothing to weep but tears, Notning to bury but dead. Nothing to sing but songs. Ah, well, alas! alack! Nowhere to go but out. Nowhere to come but back. Nothing to see but sights. Nothing to quench but thirst; Nothing to have but what we've grrt, Thus through life we’re cursed. Nothing to strike but a gait; Everything moves that goes; Nothing at all but common sense Can ever withstand these woes. —“Boston Transcript.* The Difference. “With a man, things go in at one ear and out at the other; with a woman, they go in at two ears and rush out at the mouth.” —“Kingfisher Blue,” by Halliwell Sutcliffe. Her Paradise. “ The happiest woman is she whose every moment is taken up in being necessary to somebody.”—“ The Lady Married.” by the author of “The Eady of the Decoration.” Some Sayings of Anatole France. “It is remarkable how great an influence our garments have on our moral state.” “There are three kinds-of women: the amorous, the curious, and the indifferent.” “It is the crime in evening dress which mostly appeals to the masses.” “No woman behaves equally to all men.” “ Woman it is who teaches to a few men the art of pleasing, and to all the useful art of not displeasing.” “Jealousy, which is weakness in a man. is strength in a woman.” “Although beauty really depends upon geometry, it is sentiment alone that enables us to seize the delicate forms.”— “ The Anatole France Calendar.” The Suicide of Billy, Aged 10. “‘She passed me by without saying a word. She did not even look at me. It is this that has decided me. I cannot live without Florrie, so, as soon as I have read the last chapter of ' The King of the Scalp Hunters’ (I cannot die without knowing whether Esmeralda escapes from One-eye or not). I am going to poison myself. I have made a mixture out of two packets of beetlepowder, some blacking, a bottle of copying ink, and four rod berries. Perhaps at the end I shall add some sugar to make it taste nice. 1 forgive father for having whacked me so often. These are the last words 1 shall over write. . .’ “Little fool! His mixture made him very sick, and he received the biggest thrashing he had yet received from his governor. Since then he has never committed suicide again." Tommy Jaibb,” by Walter Emanuel.