LITERARY CHAT

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VII, Issue 2, 1 November 1902, Page 153

LITERARY CHAT

CC "THE SAGE."

" The Conqueror " is the title of a new book by Gertrude Atherton, published by Macmillan and Co., and forwarded by Messrs Upton and Co. for review. The subtitle explains that the book is " the true and romantic history of Alexander Hamilton." A visit to the British and Danish West Indies in search of the truth regarding his birth and ancestry, and an extensive knowledge of the character of one who Talleyrand declared to be the greatest man of his age, has enabled the author to produce a most readable and interesting book. She has in her own words " thrown the graces of fiction over the sharp, hard facts that the historians have laboriously gathered." But she adds : " I am conscientious in asserting that almost every important incident here related of his American career is founded on documentary or published facts and family tradition ; the few that are not have their roots among the probabilities, and suggest themselves." The history of this remarkable man, his birth of parents to whom stress of circumstances had prevented the possibility of marriage ; his wonderful force of character from boyhood, the masterful, determined manner in which, equally with speech, sword and pen, he carried everything before him durinqf the troublous times of

the American Revolution, are vividly depicted. His friendship with Washington, his wooing and vanning sweet Elizabeth Schuyler, his affair with the beautiful Mrs Croix, which came to his wife's ears, and the manner in which ihe imperious beauty with whom " every man in America was in love," treated him when she considered herself flouted for a wifeall this, interspersed with bloody battle scenes and stormy Cabinet meetings, makes capital reading. " The Conqueror " is a book which certainly should not be missed.

" The Rommany Stone," by J. H. Yoxall, M.P., published by Longmans, and also forwarded by Messrs Upton and Co., is a story dealing with gipsies . and Derbyshire folk. It is told in the county dialect by Matt Scargil, a bluff yeoman. His dilatoriness in love had enabled Aldo, the Krallis, a handsome young gipsy, to cut him out and marry his cousin, Dahlia. Some kind of a " dukkerin " draws Matt out of bed across the moor to the Rommany Stone, which had been the gipsies' post-office for many a year, and to quote Matt, " atop of it I could see the Rommany lil I'd come for, plain enough. The pateran was fresh, the news wouldn't bear waiting--

sore trouble was agait with Dahlia, and I was to fare to her quick. Aldo, the scoundrel, was in double danger; across was laid atop of the stone, with a gallows aside it, all in little sparkling grits o 7 spar.. The cross meant sickness, the gallows hanging ; just what I might have expected for the fellow, dall his eyes ! — The stem o' the cross pointed westerly, then westward I was to go." After asking himself many questions such as : " Why should I tew and moil myself after a lass what jilted me the go-by four years agone for a worser man ? Make myself a ninny-ham-mer again, her poor humble servant to .help her out of her ruebargain ? etc., etc." Of course he went, and his adventures on the road and at the gipsy " tan " are duly set forth. He meets Jeruel C. Chilcutt, an American, who has taken a trip to England in search of his relatives whom he is convinced are county people, living in Chilcutt Castle. " Powerful tony folks mine wuz," he says.—" I'm constructing a fambly-tree of 'em backwards. . . Don't mind allowing to yew, Squire, as it's fambly prop'ty I'm arter. Gimme prop'ty or gimme death's my idee." The author is equally at home with the converted Bow- street runner, the American, Old Lottery, the parson, the grandmam of the tan, Flamenca, the beautiful gipsy girl, who had been five years in a convent, Dahlia, the heroine, her worthless husband and her former lover. The quaintness of the dialect and its being interspersed with the patter of the gipsies prevents it from being monotonous, and adds considerably to the charm of the book.

"In the Spirit World " is the title of a little pamphlet containing three sermons by Joseph Campbell, M.A., vicar of "Papanui. As a rule books of sermons do not offer much inducement to the general reader, but this is distinctly an

exception. The author deserves sincere congratulations for having the courage of his opinions, and giving from his pulpit and his pen things which he says " perhaps sounded strange to some of my hearers," hut which are all " taught by the Bible, by science, by reason, and by c0m... 0n sense." A powerful combination of teachers truly. " These notions," he remarks, " are now being given expression to by the leading teachers of the age. Books and periodicals are now bringing them forward, etc." The marvel to the Sage is that so many preachers have so long ignored these manifest authorities, and persisted in trying to frighten educated people with what were practically children's blackman stories.

Briefly, the writer's " notions " are to the effect that the spirit world is co-extensive with matter extending throughout the whole solar system. That in the spirit world are many communities in which spirits are thinking, working, acting, and expanding into something better, something nobler. "In _ the Spirit World " is to be obtained from Messrs Simpson and Williams, of Christchurch, and will well repay perusal.

Professor Bickerton, of Christchurch, has forwarded me copies of his books, " The Romance of the Earth " and " The Romance of the Heavens," published some time since by Swan, Sonnenschein and Co. They are useful hand-books, nicely got up and illustrated, and contain a large amount of information in a small compass. In " The Romance of the Heavens " the author propounds a theory which, to quote his words, " finds astronomy a chaos of facts, and converts it into a classified system." He affirms his belief that Cosmos renews itself, that it is probably infinite and immortal, and a careful perusal of the book will convince the reader that, whatever conclusion he may arrive at, at all. events

there is much to be said in favour of • such a deduction. Professor Bickerton also sends me his " Perils of a Pioneer," an account of the risks encountered and losses sustained in the attempt to introduce a demonstrated Cosmic theory. This little hook naturally goes over a good deal of ground, The Professor gives a detailed account of the manner in which English scientists received this theory, and the ■complimentary remarks made to him regarding it. He also gives the facts and correspondence relating to his dismissal from the position of Professor of Chemistry at Canterbury College, which he has so long filled.

In response to a request made by the Sage in our August number, the following examples of the art of word painting have been sent in. They will well repay study by writers both of prose and poetry, proving, as they do, the exquisite •effect of a careful selection of words. Mr Edwin Hall writes :

It was a favourite practice with the poet Tennyson when taking his daily walk to •embody in a few striking phi'ases any salient feature of the landscape that came under notice.

Some noteworthy examples of the power he acquired in this way of placing before us an entire landscape in a few telling words are to be found in the Palace of Art.

One show'd an iron coast and angry waves, You seem'd to hear them climb and fall, And roar rock-thwarted uuder bellowing

caves, Beneath the windy wall

And one, a full fed river winding slow, By herds upon an endless plain, The ragged rims of thuuder brooding low, With shadow-streaks of rain.

And one, the reapers at their sultry toil, In front they bound the sheaves. Behind Were realms of upland, prodigal in oil, And hoary to the wind.

And one, an English home, gray twilight pour'd, On dewy pastures, dewy trees, Softer than sleep all things in order stored, A haunt of ancient peace.

Mr Edward Kempe sends a few selections of the romantic type : Then lead, calm votaress, where some sheety lake Cheers the lone heath, or some time hallowed pile, Or upland fallows grey Reflect its last cool gleam. But when, chill, blustering winds, or driving -rain, Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain side Views wilds and swelling floods, And hamlets brown and dim-discovered spires ; And bears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fiugers draw The gradual dusky veil. Collins Ode to Evening. That time of\year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or few, or none do hang Upon those boughs that shake against the cold, Bare, ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. Shakespeare — Sonnet. The Eagle. He clasps the crag with crooked hands ; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt, he falls. Tennyson. There was a listening fear in her regard, As if calamity were just begun, As if the vanward clouds of evil days Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear Was with its stored thunder labouring up. Keat's Hyperion. A slumber did my spirit seal, I had no human fears ; She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion hath she now, nor force, She neither hears nor sees, Rolled round in earth's diurnal course With rocks and stones and trees. . Wordsworth.