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SUPPLEMENT TO THE ACADEMY,-!
July a, 1B08. J

THE ACADEMY.

A WEEKLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE, SCIENCE,

AND ART.

J A N U A R Y — JUNE,
1898.

jA^

Volume LIII.

PUBLISHING OFFICE: 43, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON, W.C.

18 9 8.

rSUPPLKMENT TO THE ACADEMY.
L July 9, 1808.

1 if

LONDON :

PRINTED BY ALEXANDER AND 8HEPHEARD,

LONSDALE BUILDINGS, CHANCERY LANE, W.C.

SUPPIiBMBNT TO THE ACADHMT,"!
July 0, 1898. J

CONTENTS OF VOLUME LIII.

LITERATURE.

KEVIEWS.

PACK

Adamson's (Dr. Williara) Life o/ihe Rev.

James Morison^ D.I) 442

Addleshaw's (Percy) selectioa of /'oenw of

the Hon. Hwlen Xoel 193

Adie &. "Wood's Agrimltural Chemistry ... 64
Akerman'8 (AViUiam) Rip Van Winkle ... 194
Allen's (A. G. V.) Christian Institutions... 228

(Grant) Historical Guides mt

Allen &: McClure's Two Ilnwlred Years:

The Ilistor// of the Society for Promoting

Christian Knotoleiige 674

Ambroise's VEstoire de la Saints Guerre 367

Auinuil.% All About 10

Arch, Joseph: the Story of His Life Told

hif Himself " 113

Archer's (William) The Theatriml World

f>/1897 SOS

Architectural Itevieiv, The -468

Armstrong's (Arthur Coles) A Tale from

lioccnccio 194

Astnip's (Eivii^) With Peary near the

Pole ... 493

Atkinson's (A. G. B.) St. Botolph, Ald-

gnte 2&4

Atlay's (J. B.) The Trial of Lord Cochr-

rane before Lord Ellenhorough 200

Auden's (H. "W.) Cicero Pro Flancio ... 72
Audubon's (Maria R.) Awlubon and His

Journals 364

Austen's (Jane) Northanger Abbey and

I'ersufision 148

liahingtotty Charles Cardale^ Memorials,

J immal, and Correspondence of 172

Ball's (John) The Alpine Guide: The

WeMern Alps 630

BanxTe's (Albert) New Grammatical

Frriich Course 71

Battye's (Aubyn Trevor) A Northern

l/if/ktvay of the Tsar 574

Beazley's (C. Kaymond) John and

Sebastian Cabot 600

Becke'a (Louis) Wild Life in Southern

Seas 91

Bell's (Mackenzie) Christina Rossetti ... 88
(Robert Fitzroy) Murray of

IJrou'jhton\s Memorials 619

Bennett's (E. A.) Journalism for Women 518
Bent's (Hamley) translation of Prince

Henri d'Orleans' Frmn T'jukin to India
Berenson's (Bemhard) The Central Italian

Painters of the R una i. -usance

Betham-Ed wards' 8 (M.) edition of The

Autobiography of Arthur I'oung

Reminiscences ..

Biart's (L.) Quandfvtals Petit

Bible, A Dictionary of the 467

Students, Aids to. By various

Authors .. 546

Bigg's (C. H. W.) First Principles of
Electriiity and M'ignetism 64

Binyon's (Laurence) Porphyrion: and
Other Poems 440

Bishop's (Mrs.) Korea 144

Black's G n ides to Scotlajid^ Cornwall,
Devonshire, Surrey, Brighton, Bourne-
mouthy Matlock, Buxton ... 631

Blackburn's (Vernon) The Fringe of an
Art 620

Blanchan's (Neltje) Bird X^-ighbours ... U21

Boas'rt (Mrs. I'ledcrick) English History
for Childrt-n 28^4

Bodley ' k (John Edward Courtenay )
France 221

REVIEWS— con^inMfid.

PAGE

Bo^'a (Edmund) Two Thousand MU^s of

Wandering in the Border Country, Lake-
land, and Ribblesdale 254

Boielle's (J.) edition of Biart's Qunnd

fetais Petit 70

Bond's (Catherine) GoUljiei<ls and Chry~

santhemums 346

(R. "Warwick) Another Sheaf 3i>0

Boole's (Mary E.) The Mathematical I^y^

r.hology of Gratry and Boole 66

Borland's (Robert) Border Raids and

Reivers ;^06

Bradshaw's (B.) edition of A Dictionary

of Bathing Places 632

Brandes' (Geoi^e) William S/takespeare :

a Crilicil Study 339

Briggs & Bryan's The Tutorial Trigo~

nometry 64

Browning's (Oscar) Peter the GreMt 89

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett^ The Poetical

Works of 117

Bryce's (lS"of.) Impressions of South Africa 51
Buchheim's (Dr. C. A.) selection of

Heine's Lieder und Gedichte 120

Bucke'B (R. M.) edition of "Walt "Whit-
man's The Wound-Dresser 542

Bull " ApostMicir, Cune," A Vimlication of

the 413

Burns, Robert, and Mrs. Dunlop... 437

Bumside's (H. M.) Drift Weed 194

Burton's (Sir Richard F.) The Jew, the.

Gypsy, and el Islam 438

Butcher's (8. H.) Aristotle^s Theory of

Poetry and Fine Art 120

Butler, William John, Life and Letters of... 9
Butler's (A. J.) translations of Ratzel's

History of Mankind 50

Byrne's (Mrs. "W. Pitt) Social Hours with

Celebrities 251

Caine's (Rev. Caesar) edition of Hir T.

"Widdrington's Amtlecta Eboracnsia .„ 30
Cameron's (D. A.) Egypt in the Nineteenth

Ctntury 442

Cainac's (Levin) translation of Daudet's

The Hope of the Family 675

Can-'.s (J. A.) The Life Work of Edward

White Benson, D.D 367

CaiTuthers's (G. T.) The Ancient Use of

Greek Accents 200

Carter's (A, C!. R.) The Year's Musir^

1898 ... 254

GasseWs Family Lmwyer, By a Barrister-

at-Law - ;W2

Complete Pocket-Guide to Europe 634

Catesby: a Tragedy 200

" Century Science " Series 254

Chjipmjin's (George) tninslation of Tfte

Iliads of Homer 468

Cheetham's (Canon S.) The Mysteries,

Pigan and Christian . 117

Child's (Fnincis James) edition of English

and Scottish Popidar Ballads 514

Churchill's (Lieut. W. L. Spencer) The

Story of the Malakand Field Force 344

CLii'k's (Andrew) edition of ** Brief Lives,''*

Set down by John Aubrey ;-JK7

(Rev. A.) Lincoln 416

Clarke's (H, Butler) The Cid Campeador 19H
Clerical Life^ The •' a Series o/ Letters to

Ministers Ill)

CUil'oi-d'w (Hugh) Studies in Brvum

Humanity 441

Coast Trips of Qreat ^ritah^ The 63^1

REVIEWS— C(m««««d.

PAOE

Cobbett's (J. M.) Ephemera 193

Coleridge's (Ernest Hartley) edition of

The Poetry of Lord Byron 489

Collections and Recollections. By One who

ha.s Kept a Diary 656

Colmore's (G.) Points of View, and Other

Poems 442

Conn's (H. "W.) The Story of Germ Life ... 65
Corbett's (Julian S.) Drake and the Tudor

Navy 415

Cowper's (H. S.) The Hill of the Graces ... 28;^

Ci'OOKaU's (Rev. L.) British Guiatia 657

Cundjill's (James) Every-Day Book of

Natural History : Animals and Plants ... 2;34
Curry's (Charles E.) Theory of Electricity

and Magnetism 64

Cui-tis's (Carlton C.) Text-Book of General

Botany 65

Cycling a45

DakjTis's (H, G.) translation of The

Works of Xenophon ... 71

Dallas & Porter's edition of 'The Note-
Book of Tristram Risdon 30

D'Annunzio's (Gabriele) The Triumph of

Death 141

Darlii^ton's Shilling Guide Books 633

Dai-mesteter's (Mme. James) A Mediaeval

Garland 53

Daudet's (Alphoase) The Hope of the

Family 675

Davis's (Richard Harding) A Year from

a Correspondent' s Note-Book 199

Davison's (Dr. W. T.) The Christian In-
terpretation of Life, and Other Essays ... 600

Deafcin's (Rupert) Euclid 64

Deamier's (Hev. Percy) Religious Pamphlets 546

Deas's (Lizzie) Mower Favourites 624

Decle's (Lionel) 2'eree i'ears in Savage

Africa 3<J8

De JuUeville's (L. Petit) Ilistoire de la

Langue rt de la Litterature Fran';aise ... 71
Denton's (Getfraie) translation of Certain

Tragical Discourses of Bandello 368 '

De "Windt's (Harry) Through the Gold

Fields of Alaska to Bering Straits 223

Dickens's (Charles) To be Read at Duskf

and Other Stories, dc 281

Dillmann's (Dr. A.) Genesis Critically arid

Exegetically Expounded 117

Dobbs's (W. J.) Elementary Geometrical

Statics 64

Dobson's (Austin) William Hogarth ... 171

Donne's (W. B.) Euripides 72

(B. J. M.) Colloquy and Song ... 653

D'Orleans's (Prince Henri) From Tonkin

to India by the Sources of the Irnwadi .. 27
Dougljis's (Ilf>bert \AxasUm.) edition of
Fenton's translation of Certain Tragical

Discourses of Bandello 3<>8

Doyle's (A. Conan) Songs of Action 65;J

Drummond's (Pi*of. Hcnrj') The Ideal

Life, and Other Unpublish&l Addresses.,. 114
Duff's (Sir M. Grant) Notes f rem a Diary,

, 1873-1881 341

Duffy's (Sir Charles Gavan) Mt/ Life in

Two Hemispheres 568

Dunn's (Ssira H.) Sunny Memories of an

Indian Winter ... 282

Edw ards's (O. M. ) edition of The Anabasis

of Xenophon, Book III. 72

Ellis's (Havclock) AJirmations 22*j

(William Asijton) translation of

Richard Wai/ner*a Pirose Works ,., ... 567

RE VIE WS— con^inwai.

FAOR

Ely Cathedral Handbook 634

England's (Geoi^e) edition of The Towneley

Plays 305

" PjUropcjin Literature, Periods of" ... 366
Evans tic Fearenside'a England Under the

Later Hanoverians 69

Evans's (E. P.) Evolutional Ethics and

Animal Psychology 392

Fairbanks's (Arthur) The First Philo-
sophers of Greece 573

" Famous Scots " Series 87

Farrar's (Frederic W.) Allegories 171

Fei'gusson's (Robert) Scots Poems 658

Field's (Annie) edition of Harriet Beecher

HUnyG* A Life and Letters ... ... 169

Fincham's (Henry W.) The Artists and
Engravers of British ami American Book-
Plates 283

Fiske's (John) Old Virginia and Her

Neighbours 4

Fletcher's (J. S.) The Making of Matthias 10

Fogazzaro's (Antcmio) Poesie Scelte 670

Forbes's (Archibald) The Life of Napo-
leon III. 389

Foster's (Vere) edition of The Two

Duchesses 225

Foster & Sherrington's Text-book of

Phi/sioloqy 66

Fowler's (J. K.) Records of Old Times ... 520

(J. H.) XlX.-Century Prose ... 6<>

Frankland'« Pasteur 254

Frazer's (J. G.) translation of Pausanias's

Description of Greece 363

(R. W.) Literary History of India 365

Fronde's (Jam<;s Anthony) Shadows of the

Clouds 78

Fullor's (Anna) Pratt Portraits 3(»

"Fur, Feather, and Fin Series " 493

Galton's (Arthur) Two E-fsays upon

Matthew Arnold, &c 10

Gane's (Douglas M.) The Building of the

Intellect 69

Gamett'a (Richard) History of Italian

Literature 513

Gathome-Hardy's (Hon. A. E.) The

Salmon 493

Genealogical Magazine, The ■- 658

Gerard's (Frances) Picturesque Dublin, OUl

and New 120

Gesterfeld's(Ui-sulaN.) The Breath of Life 604

Giffen's (George) With Bat and Ball 309

Gilbert's (W. S.) The Bab Ballads 2(J

Gissing's (Ge<Ji^e) Charles Dickens 280

Glovers (uidy) Life of Sir John Hnwley

Glover, R.N. 253

Godkin's (Edwin lAwrence) Unforeseen

Trndcnci^s of Democracy 676

Golschmann'ii (LOon) I'he Adventures of

a Siberian Cub 10

Goodwin, Royce, & Putnam's Historic

Xexo York 845

Gordon's (H. Laing) Sir James Y.

Simpson 7

(Sir Charles Alexander) Recol-
lect inns of Thirty-nine Years in the Army T

Gore's (Canon Charles) St. PauVs Epistle
to thf E phi- si a US

Gorse's (F.) Mi'lon's Paradise Lost .

Graham's (Jean Carlyle) The Child of the
Bondwoman, and Other Verses

Grahame's (R. B. Cunninghame) The
Canon: an Exposition of the Ptgan
' Myaiery perpetuated in th* CabuUi ..,

I>46
70
)

194

... 1UI>

CONTENTS OF VOL. LIII.

LBUPPLEMKNT TO THE ACADEMT,
July 9, 1898.

REVlEWS-tfon^trtUcd.

PAOE

Graves & Luc w'e Thr n'nro/Ihe JVenuses 253
Graves's (Arnold) Prince I'atnck: a Fairy

Tate.., 619

Green's (G. B.) Xotcs on Greek and Latin

Syntax "2

Glory's (Lady) edition of Mr. Gregory's

LetUr-Box -"^^

Griffiths's (William) TrinJoyiieji 345

Orinling's (Charlea H.) History of the

Great A'orthcnt Uailwoy 346

Oroeart'B (A. B.) Hohert Fergi/sson 87

edition of The Tragical

Heign of SeJinus 228

Gross's (Prof. Charles) Bibliography of

British Mimkipol History 148

Guide Book Supplement (>'-2^

Gumey's (Alfred) Love's Fruition 193

Hadden's (J. Cuthbert) George Thomson,

the Friend of Burns 227

Hall*s (F. W.) The Fourth Verrine of

Cicero ^^2

Halliday's (George) Steom Boilers 61

Hamerton's (Philip Gilbert) The Quest of

Happiness 170

Hammerton's (J. A.) lihymes of IronquUL 193
"Handbook to Christian and Ecclesi-
astical Home 54

Hatidbook/or Travd'ers in Scothntd 629

- for Travellers in Surrey 629

of Travel Talk 629

Hannay's (David) The Lni^r Renaissance SGti
Hai^ood's (Xorman) Literary Statesmen^

and Others 52, 676

Harbutt's (W. M.) HarhvtCs Plastic

Method, and the Use of Pliistiane 69

Harcourt's (L. V.) An Eton Bildinyraphy 346
Harding's (Georgina) translation of

D'Annunzio's ^ViKm/)^ o/"i)ca^A 141

Hardy & Bacon's The Stamp Collector ... 391
Harland's (Marion) Some Colonial Home-
steads and their Stories 468

Harman's (Edward Geoi^e) Poems from

Horace, Catullus, and Sappho, d;c 147

Harris's (Mary Dormes) Life in an Old

Eiiylitth Town 624

Harrison's (W. Jerome) Text-hook of

Geology 65

Harte's (Bret) Some Later Verses 653

Harting'H (J. E,) Hints on the Management

of Hawks, and PractiaU Falconry 368

Hastin^'s (Dr. James) Dictionary of the

Bible 467

Hauptmann's (Gerhart) Versunkene Glocke 400
Hay's (Alfi-ed) The Principles of Alternate

Current Working 64

(Admiral Sir John C. Dalrymple)

Lines from jny Loq-Books 494

Hazen's (Charlee Downes) Contemporary

AvMrtcan Opinion of tlie French Jlevo-

lution 412

Heath's (FrancLs George) The Fern World 316
Heawood's (Edward) (ieugrnphg of Africa 66
Heckethom's (t harles William) The

Printers of Haste, in the Fifteenth and

Sixteenth Centurits 307

Henley's (William Ernest) Poems 249

& Stevenson's Macaire 343

"Heroesof the Nations" 198

Hodgson's (John Crawford) Hexkamshire 494
Holding's (T. H ) CycU and Camp ... ... 680

Hommel'H (Dr. Fritz) The Ancient Hebrew

Tradition 306

Hopkins's (Tighe) The Dungeons of Paris 90
Homer's (8u*an} Greek Vases: Historical

and Descriptive 69

Eousman'd (Laurence) Spikenard: a Book

of Devotional Love Poems 252

Hudson's (W. H.) Birds in London 62:^

Hugo's (Victor) Hernani 343

Humane Science Lectures. By various

Authors 65

Hume's (Martin A. 8.) Philip II. of

Spain 28

Hutchinson's (J. R.) The liomance of a

Begiment ... .. 678

Hutton'8 (W. H.) Mary Powell and

Deborah"!* Diarg 1(1

Huj^smans' (J. K.) I^^i CathHrale 196

" International Theological Library " ... 228

" Bc'ientillc Scries " ' 228

Ining's (Laurence) Godefroi and Yolande ;W3

• (H. B.) TheLifeof Judge Jeffreys M4

Jtle of Man vtd Barrow-in-Furne^s and

fynke-land (>3i

James's (Lionel) The Indian Frontier War 314
Jannaris's (A. N.) Historical Greek Gram-
mar 72

Jardine's (Alfred) The Anglet's Library:

I'ike and Perch 254

Jebb's (K. C.) edition of S'o/jAoc'm 71

Jervis'fl IW, P.) Thomns Best Jervis 316

Jt^nsoD e (Robert Underwood) Songs of

Libtrty *.. 195

(Clifton) The New England

Country aJld A Book of Country, Clouds,

and Sunshine 2.'>l

Johnston's (Ker. James) China and For-

Tnosa: a SucceFitfitl Minsion , 2^2

— (I>r. John) A Visit to Walt

Whitman 658

J uHn, Letters from ; «-, IAght9 from the

BorderUmi 119

Keartoa's (Biduttd) WUh Nature and
a Camem , ... ... 8

REVIEWS— con^tnwed.

PAOB

Keltic's (J. Scott) The Statesman's Year-
Book, imn 368

Kemble'N (E. W.) The Blackberries and

their Adventurer 10

Kennedy's (Howard Angus) The Story of

Canada 306

Kcnyon's (F. G.) edition of The Poems of

Bfcchylides 49

Kirke's {Henr>-) Twenty-jive Years in

British fr'ui'tna 657

I^dd's (George Trumbull) Outlines of

Descriptive, Psychology 544

Lang's (Andrew) The Nursery Bhyme-Book 9

The Making of Jteligion... 651

Langbridge's (Rev. Frederick) Sent Back

by the Angels 195

LawlesH's (Emily) TraitJi and Confidences 308
Leaf's (Walter) Versions from Hajiz: an

Essay in Persian Metre 573

Lebon's (Andre) Modern France, 1789-1895 120
Le GiiUienne's (Richard) The Opium Eater,

and Essays by Thomas de Qnincey 147

Lehmann's (R. C.) i^oujiH^ 3**

Lindsay's (W. A.) The Boyal Household... 345

Little\i London Pleasure Guide 6;-i4

Little's (Canon Knox) Our Churches, and

Why tve Belong to Them 9

Liturgy in Home, The. By H. M. and

M. A. R.T ... 64

London and North-Weslern Railway,

QfficiM Guide to the 634

Loyd's (Lady Mary) translation of New

Letters of Napoleon 1 25

Lucas's (Francis) Sketches of Rural Life 10
MacDowall's (H. C.) Henry of Guise, and

Other Portraits ... 464

Macfarlane's (John) Library Administra-
tion 416

Macmillan's Elementary Latin-English Dic-
tionary 72

Macquoid's In the Volcanic Eifel: A Iloli-

da,f Bamble ■ _ 634

Manly's (John Matthews) Specimens of

the Pre-Shakesperean Drama ... 120

Mann'H (William) Model Drawing 66

Markhiim & Cox's The Records of the

Borough of Northampton 416

Mason's (Canon Arthur James) Thomas

Granmer . 416

MasiMro's (Prof.) The Dawn of Civilisa-
tion 117

Maxwell's (Sir Herbert) The Hon. Sir

Charles Murray, K.C.B.: A Memoir ... 516
McCarthy's (Justin) I'he Story of Glad~

stone's Life 199

McC'lure's (M. L.) translation of Mas-

'pcr&ii Dawn of Civilisation 11"

McDonnell's (A. C.) XlX.-Century Verse 66
Mead's (W. E.) Selections from Sir Thomas

Malory's Morte d* Arthur 69

Melven's (W.) The Talisman 70

Merewether's (F. H. S.) A Tour Through

the Famine Districts of India 494

Midland Railway, Official Guide to the ... 634
MitHin's (Lloyd) At the Gates of Song:

Sonnets 195

Mill's (Br. H. R ) On the Clioice of Geo-
graphical Books 68

Millar's (H. R.) The Diamond Fairy Book 308
Miller's (Fred.) The Training of a Crafts-
man 69

M'Leod's (Addison) A Window in Lin-
coln's Inn 195

Montagu's (Rcar-Adm. Hon. Victor) A

Middy's Recollections 572

Morris's (Hon. Martin) Transatlantic

Traits 146

(William) The Sundering Flood .. 304

Mott's (Edwai"d Spencer) A Mingled Yarn 574
Moulton's (Dr. R. G.) edition otEzekiel... 115
Mozley's (John Rickjirds) A Vision of

England, and Other Poems 194

Muir s (John) Carlyle on Burns 10

■ (M. M. P^ttison) A Course of

Practical Cheniistrif 64

(Henrv D.) 'I'oems 195

Mullcr's (l*rof. F. Max) Auld Lang Syne . 341

Murray's Handbooks 629

Newbit's (E.) Songs of Love and Empire ... 281
Neumann's (Arthur H.) Elephant Hanting

in East Eiiuato rial Africa ,. 412

Newdigate- Newdegute's (Lady) The
Oheverets of Cheverel Manor ... ... ...596

Nimrod's '/be Chase, the Road, and the

Turf 571

Noelt Hon. Roden, Selected Poetna from the

Works of 193

*' Northumberland, A Historj* of " 494

Norway's (Arthur H.) Highways and

Byways in Devon and Cornwall 634

O'Brien's (Henrj-) The Round Towers of

Ireland \. 263

O'Donoghue's (D. J.) Life and Writings of

James Clarence Mangan 142

Owen's (Jean A) The Story of Hawaii ... 4fj8

Puget's (Stephen) John Hunter 7

Piirmor'.s (Bertha) edition of Stories from

the GlasHii; Literature of Many Notions .. 600

Parker's ( W. N.) translation of Wicders-
heim's Elements of the Comparative
Anatomy of Vertebrates 65

^— — (T. Jefferj') Lessons in Elementarjf
Biology ... .„ ,^, „. 65

^— ^— (Dr. Joseph) Studies in Texts ... 516

REVIEWS— co»<i»Med.

Pwker's (Dr. Joseph) Christian Profiles in

a pagan Mirror 6r>8

Pascoli's (Giovanni) Pietnetli ... ■ ■ ■■• 570
Patrick Ac Groonie's edition of Chambers s

Biof/raphiail Dictionary •■ 92

PauHJinias' Description of Greece •■Wvt

Penny's (John) Applied Mechanics 64

( Walter Copeland) The Women of

Homer 391

Pctcrs's (Dr. John Punnott) Nippur ... 465
Petrie'H(l*rof. Flinders) Religion and Con-
science in Ancient Egypt 251

Phelps's (Elizabeth Stuirt) The Story of

Jesus Christ 117

Phillips's (Stephen) Poemi 3

IHnero's (Arthur Wing) The Princess and

the Rntterfly ^3

" I*itt l*ress Series " 70

Pollai-d, Heath. Liddell, & McCJormick's

edition of Works of Geoffrey Chaucer ... 303
Poor's (Agnes Blake) Boston Neighbours in

Town and Out 600

Power's (D'Arcy) William Harvey 7

Prothero's (R. E.) edition of The Works

of Lord Uqron: Letters and J on mals . 511

Purey-Cust's (Verj- Rev. A. P.) Our ^

English Minsters 200

RalliV (Augustus) Th>- Ench-mted River ... 195
Ratzel's (Prof. Fr.) The History of Man-
kind ... 50

Rawlinson's (Canon George) Memoir of
Major-General Sir Henry Creswicke

Rawiinson 411

Reading Gaol, The BaWid of. By C.3.3.... 2:«
Redda way's (W. F.) The Monroe Doc-
trine 368

Rendall's (Dr. Gerald H.) Marcus Aurelius

Antoninus to Himself 222

Repplier's (Agnes) Varia 119

Rey s (Hector) Complete Course of French

Composition and Idioms 70

Re\Tiold.s'8 (Sydney H.) The Vertebrate

Skeleton 65

(Joseph William) The Super-
natural in Nature 117

(Samuel llan-cy) Studies on

Many Subjects ... 466

Rhys'H (Ernest) Welsh Ballads ... .. 309

Roberts's (Morley) Strong Men and True 51

edition of Sir Thomas

Browne's Essays 208

(Charles G. D.) History of

Canada 619

Robinson's (Alexander) A Study of the

Saviour in the Newer Light 600

Rose's (J. Hfjlland) The Rise of Democracy 3i)7
Ross-of-Bladunsburg's (Lieut. -Col.) The

Coldstream Guards in the Crimea 284

Rotherham's (Angus) The New GueM ... 467
Rouse's (W. H. D.) edition of Pylos and

Sphakteria, from Thirydides, Book IV ... 72

Rutherfurd's (John) Dr. W. Moon and

his Work for the Blind 620

Hyan and Sandes' Under the Red Crescent 282

Kyland's (F.) Psychology 65

Sargent's (H. H.) The Campaign of

Marengo 284

Sirnizia's (Gregor) William Shakespeare's

Lehrjahre 79

Sayce's (Rev. A. H.) The Early History of

the Hebrews 695

Schenck's (Dr. Leopold) SchencWa Theory

— The Determination of Sex 669

Scotland, The Highlands of , in Vim 392

Scott's (Hon. Mrs. Maxwell) The Making

of Abbotsford 30

Scull's (W. D.) Bad Lady Betty: a Drama

in Three Acts 120

Seawell's (Molly Elliot) Twelve Naval

Captains 415

Seiveant's (Lewis) 7'he Franks 520

Shaba's (Dr. Brojonath) The Stylography

of the English Language 414

Sharp's (It. Farqunarson) Dictionary of
English Authors 92

translation of

Victor Hugo's Hernani 313

■iShaw's (Bernard) Plays: Pleasant and
I'nplea.wnt 461, 490

Sherif muir. The Bottle of - 2^

Shoemaker's (Midiael Myers) Islands of
the Southern Seas 416

Shuckburgh's (Evelyn 6.) History of
Rome for Beginners 69

— I 111 . Passages from

Latin Authorsfor Transhtion into English 72

Sidgwick's (Henry) Practical Ethics 145

Bimmons's (A. T.) Physiography for Ad-
vanced Students 65

Simpson's (M. C. M.) Many Memories of
Many People ... 282

(James Young) Side Lights on

I Siberia 391

I Singer ic Strp-ng's Etching, Engraving, and

I the i nil'- r Methods of Printing Pictures ... 54

Smith's (J. Hamblin) Elementary Treatise
on the Metric System of Weights and
Measures 64

Smyth's (H. Warington) Five Years in
Siam 572

*' Social England Series" 624

Socialism, What is Itf By ** Scotsbum" 624

Stacpoole's (Florence) Handbook of
Housekeeping for Small Incomes 309

nEYIEW B— continued,

PAOI

8tnrk*s Guide-book and History of British

Guiana 657

Starless Crown, The; and Other Poems.

By J. L. H 195

Statham's (H, Heathcote) Modem A rchi-

tecture ... . 6

(F.Reginald) Paul Kruger and

His Times 666

Steevens's (G. W.) Egypt in 1898 6l»

Steinlen'sCw ^■A'/f.« - 65«

Step's (Edward) edition of CundalPs

Everg-Day Book of Natural History ... 251
Stevens's (J. A.) Junior Latin Syntax ... 72
Stevenson's (W. B.) translation of Dr.

Ditlmann's Genesis Critically uud Exe-

yeticnlly Expoutuled 117

— '- — (Robert Louis) Rom/mces ... 168

Stokes's (William) WUliam Stokes: His

Life and Work ... 54,T

Story's (Alfred Thomas) The Building of

the Empire 414

*' Story of the Nations, The " 120, 620

'• Story of the Empire Series " 906

Stracbey's (Lady) edition of Memoirs of

a Highland La,ly 8|0

Sturge's (Richard Vates) Song and Tiwught 195
Sykcs's (EllaC.) Thro' Persia on a Side-

Saddle 509

Symonds & Gordon's The Story of Perugia

MH, 633
Tancock's (C. C) Story of the Ionic Revolt

and J'ersian War as told by Hennlotus ... 72
Tarr's (Ralph 8.) First Book of Physical

Geography 66

Tarver's (J. C.) Debateable Claims: Essays

on Secondary Education ... 622

Taunton's (Rev. EUieh^) The English

Black Monks of St. Benrdirt ... 143

Teacher's Bible,'The Illustrated ... 70

"Temple Dramatists" .. ... 228

Temple's (Arthur) 0»r Livinq Generals .. 680

(Sir Richard) edition of Lady

Glover's Life of Sir John H. Glover 253

Tharkerai/, William Makepeace, The

Works of 463

Thomas*s (Rose Haig) Pan: A Collectiom

of Ly lira I I'oems ... ... 195

Thompson's (Silvanus P.) Light. Visible

and Invisible 65

— (D'j\jx:y W.) Day-Dreams of

a Schoolmaster 677

Thomson's (John) llirough China with a

Camera .. ... 618

Thornton's (John) Elementary Practical

Physiography ... 65

Todd's (George Eyre) edition of The Book

of filasgow Cathedral 619

Toilemache's (Hon. Lionel A.) Talks with

Mr. Gladstone ... ... 621

Tomlinson's (May) translation of Mme.

Darmcsteter's Mediirval Garland .. ., 53
Tout's (Prof. T. F.) History of England

for the use of Middle Forttts in Schools ,. 615
Townsend's (Chas. F.) Chemistry for

Photographers 6t

Ti-otter's (Capt. L. J,) The Life of John

Nicholson 5

TjTian's (Katherine) The Wind in lite

Trees 607

TjTidall's (M. C.) L'lys and Legends of

England ... . 194

TpTell's(R. Y.) edition of The Troadesof

Euripides

" University Tut<«rial Series " 61

Vandeleur's (Seymour) Campaigning on

the Upper Nile and Niger... 803

Van Dyke's (Paul) The Age of the !

Ilentiscence: Eras of the Christian ('hurch 23;J
Vaughan's (Dean) University and Ot/ier

Sermons 680

Verity's (A. W.) King Lear ... 70

Shakespeare's *^ Merchant

of Venice" 148

Vicar8's(Sir Arthur) Index to the Prerogative

Wills of Irelawl 172

" Victorian Era Series " „ ... 280

Vince's (C. A.) John Bright 14S

Vincent's (Ralph Harr>') The Elements of

Hypnotism ... ... 22^

Visge^'^! (Mrs.) The Story of Hawaii ... 464
Vizetellv's (Alfred) translation of Zola's

Paris 270

Vuillier'.s .Gaston) History of Dancing ... ll-i
Waldstein's (Dr. l,ouis) The Sub^eonacion.-i
Self, nnd its Ji\flalion to Education and

Health

Wagner's (Richard) Prose Works

Wales, The Prince of

Walker's (Mary A.) Old Tracks and New
Landmarks: Wayside Sketches in Crete,
Macedonia, Mitylene, rf-c.
AVallace's (WilUam) Robert Burns and

Mrs. Dunlop ..

Wallas's (Graham) Life of Fmneis Place 250
Waller's (Augustus D.) Lectures on

Ph'/siology . ... ... 0$

Walter's (W. C. F.) Hints and Helps in
Continuous Greek Prose 73

Ward, Lock d: Co.'s Guide Books 6ai

Ward's (Adolphus William) Sir Henry
WottoH ... ... 29

Warner's (Charles Dudley) 'The People
for Whom Shakespeare Wrote « ,.. 200

Warren's (Herbert T.) By Severn Sea ... 198

116

, 567

2S2
437

SUPPLEMENT TO THE ACADEMY."
July U, 1S88.

CONTENTS OF VOL. LIII.

KEY l&WS— continued,

FAOE

■Warwick's (Countess of) edition of /^.'■"/'ft
Arch: the Story of' His Lift told by Him-
self '. 113

— -^ edition of Pro-
gress in Women^n Kdncntion 284

■Watson's (Dr. E. W.) Sonys of Flying
Hours 194

Waugh'x (Arthur) Leyewls af the iVheel 368

Way's (Arthur S.) The Tmyedits of
Euripides^ in Knglish Verse 597

Webb's (\V. T.) Selections from Words-
worth 66

(Sidney & Beatrice) Industrial

Democracy ... 91

Webster's (Aithur G.) The Theory of
Elect riciti/ and Magntltsm: being Lectures
on Mulhenuitical Phyntcs 64

Wellbv's (Capt. M. S.) Through Unknown
Tibet 679

Welsh Children, Some. By the Author of
"Frjitemity" 391

Went's (Hev. J.) First Latin Exercises ... 72

Wh'tf, Walter^ TheJonnuds of K

"WTiit^'s (Henij- A.) liobert E. Lee 198

AVbitinuu's (Walt) 2'/*e Wound-Dresser ... 542

Widdrinj^ton's (Sir Thonuis) Analecta
Ehoractnsia -30

'Wiedei'sheim's (Dr. R.) Elements of the
Conipftrative Anntomy of Vertebrates ... 65

'Wilbeiforce'M (Canon Basil) Strmotis
Prr.irh'-d m Westminster Abbey ... 600

"Wilkins's (W. H.) edition of Sir B. F.
Bui"t4)n'8 7'he Jew, the Crypsy, and el
L^lnm 438

Willianwon's (Dr. George C.) Portrait
Min ill t » res 172

Willi's Freeman) W. G. Wills, Dramatist
tind i'oiiUer 598

Wilson's (Thomas B.) The Handy Guide
to Sonvay 63i

Winbolt's (S. E.) Exercises in Latin
Accidence 72

Women, Famous, Little Journeys to the
Homes of 145

Wool man, John, The Journal of 652

Wright k McLean's The Ecclesinstical
History of Eusebi us in Syriac 546

Wright's (Lewis) The Induction Coll in
Prorliral Work 65

Wyokoff's (Walter A.) The Workers ... 492

Wylie's (James Hamilton) History of
England under Henry the Fourth 468

WjTidham's (Geoi^) edition of The Poems

of Shakespeare 439

Young's (Ernest) The Kingdom of the

Yellow liobe '., ... 254

Zang^vill's (Israel) Dreamers of the Ghetto 342
Zola's (Kmile) Paris 279, 330

FIOTIOIT.

Allen's (Grant) The Incidental Bishop
{Supp., April 30) 470

Altsheler's {_ Joseph A.) A Soldier of Man-
fuittnn (Supp., April 23) 444

Anthologies in Tattle :
Michael Braytwn (Supp., Feb. 19) ... 203

Robert Hen-ick (Supp., March 5) 257

Thomas Cami)ion [Supp., Apiil 16) ... TTS"

Aphorisms and Epigrams :
Mr. Geoi-ge Meredith {Supp., Jan, 29)... 123
By R. L. Stevenson {Supp., Jan. 29) ... 124

Schopenhauer {Supp., Feb. 5) 152

Hare's Guesses at Truth {Supp., Feb. V2) 176

Goethe (5»?)i'., Feb. 26) 232

La BniviVe (Supp., March 12) 287

Williitia Blake (Sup,>., April 16) 420

Joubeil (Sujip., April 23) 446

Testimony of the Apostles of Egoism
(Sm;)/*., April 30) 472

Atherton's (Gertrude) His Fortunate Grace
(5«iy'.,Marcli26) 347

— American Wives and

English ffusbantls (Supp., Apiil 9) ... 394

Author, Disappointed, Confession o£ a
(Supp., Ajyiil 9) ... 395

BaJrie, Mr., Two Prefaces by {Supp.,
June 4) 604

Becky Shai-p.— After (Supp., Jan. 29) ... 124

Benham's (Chai'les) Thi^ Fourth Xapoleon :
a Unmnnce {Supp., Feb. 19) 201

Bennett's ;E. A.) A Jlan from the Xorth
(Su;j;>., March 26) 348

BmiBon's (E. F.) The Vintage {Supp.,
Feb. 26) 2:30

Blundell's (Mrs. Francis) Maime o* the
Co)-ner (Supp., Jan. 8j ... 4

Boldrewood'B (llolf) Plain Living (Supp.,
April 2' 371

Books of To-da'j and Books of To-morrow
{Supp., Feb. 12) .. 175

Bonnie'a {QeoTQe) A Year's Exile {Supp.,
June 4) '. 602

Biaddon's (M. E.) Roiigh Justice {Sapp.,
March 26) 349

YlQriO^— continued.

PAGE

Brailsford's (Henry Noel) The Broom of

the n'a/-r;(«i (5«/'/'-. March 12) ... ..". 286
Brooke's (Emma) The. Con fession of Stephen

Whapsharc {Supp., Feb". 12) 174

Cable, Mr. G. w., in London {Snpj).,

May 7) 497

Camenin's (Mrs. Lovett) Demi's Apples

(Supp., April 2) ,., ... 371

Child's Guide to Literature, The New

{Supp., Feb. 12 and May 14) . ... 175, 524

Cobb's (Thomas) Carpet Courtship 310

Conrad's (Joseph) The Sigger of the

^* Narcissus" (Supp., Jan. 1) ... ... 1

Tales of Unrest {Supp.,

April 16) . . 417

Comfoi"d's (L. Cope) Sons of Adversity

(S'ipp., June 18) . ... 660

Clime's (Stephenj The Open Boat; and

other Storirs (Snpp., May 14) 522

Crawford, Mr. Marion, at Home {Supp.,

Feb. 26) . ... 231

Creswicke's (Louis) Lovers Usuries {Supp ,

Jan. 1) .. ... 2

Crtickett's (S. R.) Th^-, SUmdard Bearer

{Supp., May 7) ... 4it6

Crown mshield's (Mi><. Schuyler) Where

the IVade- Wind Blows {Sup/K, May 21). 519

Cunningham's (Sir Henry) Novels 610

D'Arcy's (Ella) The Bishop*s Dilemma

{Supp., June 4) ... .. 603

David LyalVs Love-Stnry. By the Author

of '"The Land of the 3>eal" {Supp.,

Feb. 19) ... 202

Dawson's (A. J.) Middle Greynets {Supp.,

Jan. 29) .. ... . 123

■ G\hCs Foundling (Supp.,

March 121 ... 286

Dickens's (Mary Angela) Against the Tide

(Supp.,'SlnyU) .. 523

Dowie's (Menie Muriel) The Crook of the

Bough [Supp., May 28) .. .. 576

Doyle's (A. Conan} The Traf/edy of the

**Korosko*' {^upp., Feb. 12) .. 173

Drummond'a (Hamilton) For the Beligion

{Supp., March 5) 256

Dudeney's (Mrs. Henry E.) A Man with a

Maid {Sftpp. Feb. 19) . 202

Dunciin's (Sara Jeannette) A Voijage of

Consolation {Supp., Ayn\^) ..' . ...895
Dziewicki's (Micliael Henry) Entombed in

Flesh {Supp., March 5) .. ... 257

" Egerton's (George) " Fantasias {Supp.f ^

Jan. 8) 8-

Exercise, Physical, for Winters {Supp.,

May 21) " 549

Fiction, The Newest: Supp., Jan. 1,1: Jan.

8, 3 ; Jan. 22, 93; Jan. 29, 121 ; Feb. 5, 149;

Feb. 12, 173; Feb. 19, 201; Feb. 26, 229;

Mar. 5. 2.55; Miir. 12. 285; Mar. 19,309;

Mar. 26, 347: Ap. 2, 369; Ap. !), 393; Ap.

16,417; Ap. 23, 443; Ap. :W, 469; May 7,

496 ; May 14, 521 ; May 21, 547 ; May 28,

575; Jime 4, 601; June 11, 625; June 18,

659; June 2.o, 681.
Fowler's (Ellen Thomeycroft) Concerning

Isabel Cai-nahy {Supp., June 18) 661

Francis's (M. E.) Maime o' the Corner

(5h;)/)., Jan. 8) 4

Fraser's (Mrs. Hugh) .1 Chapter of Acci-
dents (Supp., April. 2) 371

Frederic, Harold {Supp., April 2) 372

Garland's (Hamlin) Wayside Courtships

(Supp., J&n. 29) 123

Oissing, Mr. Gtoi-ge, at Home {Supp.,

March 5) 258

Glidstone and the " Dream of GeronUus "

(Supp., Uiiyli) 524

Gordon's (Samuel) In Years of Transition

{Supp. Jan. 8) 4

Gribblc's (Francis) Sunlight and Limelight

{Supp., April 2) 870

Hardy's (Francis H.) The Mills of God

{Supp., Jan. 1) .. .. 2

Harland's (Henry) Comedies and Errors

(5"y'/>., April 16) 41S

Henniker's (Florence) Sowing the Sand

_(.SV;j/»., May 28) 677

Hichens'sf Robert) Byeways (Supp.,,Ja.ii..l) 2
.^ T'/^g Londoners (Supp.,

May 21) 648

Higginson's (EUa) A Forest Orchid, and

Other Stories 694

D'Annunzio's The Triumph of Death ... 184
De la Pasture's (Mrs. Henry) Deborah of

TofVs 214

Doyle's (A Conan) The Tragedy of the

Korosko 240

Gilbert's (W. 8.) The Bab Ballads and

Songs ia5

Harland's (Henry) Comedies and Errors... 533
Hichens's (Robert) The Londoners: An

Absurdity 481

Hope's (Anthony) Simon Dale 380

Ii-vmg's (H. B.) The Life of Judge Jeffreys 694

Locke's (William) Derelirts 42

Meredith's (George) Lord Ormout and His

Aminta 106

Morris's (William) The Sundering Flood.,, 429

Phillip's (Stephen) Poems 105

lYothero's (Rowland E.) edition of Byron's

Letters and Journals 646

Rostand's (Edmond) Cyrano de Bergerac 406
Sharp's (EyelsTi) The Making of a Prig ... 269
Shaw's (Bernard) Plays, Pleasant and Un-
pleasant 613

Steel's (Flora Annie) In the Pemument

Way, and Other Stories 162

Stockton's (Frank) The Great Stone of

Sardis 163

Swift's (Benjamin) The Destroyer 670

S\-rett's (Netta) The Tree of Life 241

Watson's (William) 7'he Hope of the World 42
Wells's (H. G.) The War of the Worlds ... .334

WejTnan's (Stanley) Shrewsbury ... ... 334

Whibley's (Charles) Studies in Frankness . 136
Wilkins's (W. H.) edition of Burton's

1'he Jew, the Gypsy, and el Islam 453

Wyndhiim's (Greorge) edition of The Poems

of Shakespeare ... 507

Zangwill's (I.) The Dreamers of the Ghetto 406
Zola's (Emile) Paris 297

^ypsy, and el Islam

453

ABTICLEB.

Aaideniy Awards to Authoi"s 34, 47

Appreciative Mood, In :

Mr. J. G. Frazer 376

Mr. Arthur SjTnons 377

Armchair Books :

A Chiel among the F.B.S.'s 8

Biirds of the Bush :

Henry Tjiwson 424

Edward Dyson 449

A. B. Paterson 656

Brcitmann, The 608

Bridges, Mr. Robert, The Poetry of ... 165

Browne, Sir Thomas 208

Burae-Joncs, Edward 687

Bums, Mr. Henley's Essay on 48

"Carroll Lewis" at Oxford 99

Compt^m's (,Mr. A. G.) Index Expui^a-

torius 681

Copyi-ight Act, The New 365

•' Crowned Books," The 47

Cunningham's (Sii- Henry) Novels 610

D'Annnnzio, Gabriele: a Sketch 35;^

Daudet described by his Son 662

Dictionary, A New, and some Omissions 665

English, Purer, A Plea for 329

Fables, Pure ... 403, 425, 477, .'J02, 528,

554, 587, 608, 639, 665
Froude, James Anthony, A Forgotten

Novel by 78

Gladstone, Mr., as Reader and Critic ... 682

-, Macaulay on 678

, in Little 677

Grandmothers, Tales of Our 16

Greece. I_iOve Poems of 476

Hamlet and "We Berliners" , 292

Harrow, Interview with the Head Master

of ... 57

Hasty Writers. For 661

Henley's (Mr.) Essay on Bums 48

Ibsen's Seventieth Birthday ... 3.V2

Idylls of the Kiug, The Evolution of ... 640
India Civil SerWce, Education for

the 68, '2m

Jew (The), the Gypsy, and the Dreamer . 609

Kiduapprd. The Country of 5(i2

Kipling. >rr.. The Edlubur>/h on ... lo»

/>'i/A-, The >:ditorof thelate 667

London of the Writei-s, The

ThoNew Poetry 14

The Poets of the Thames 13i>

The Cockney Sentiment 2or>

Don Juan In London. 401

Mallock, Mr. W. H., an Open Letter to ;J8S

Mare's Nest, A German 79

Maupassant and Tolstoi 180

Memorial, A : and a Moral 52S

CONTENTS OF VOL. LILI.

rBUPPLBMKNT TO THE AUADKMV.

L July«. 1898.

AETICL m— continued.

FA OB

.. 29a

Meredith's (Mr.) Ode

Millais at Burlineton House

Miller (Joaiiuin). Browning, and the

Trince Imperial 181

" Xewdij^te." The 6M

NewsDaper English 60

Novelists as Pwts 639

Paris Letters IG, 1(»0, 157, 210, 2«6, 378,

426, 477. 529, 687, 642, 690
People. The. What they Read :

A Schoolboy 5i)

An Artist 156

An Ambassador of Commerce 20!)

A Wife 293

An Aunt 877

AConstiible 689

Peter the Great. Mr. Laurence Irvii^'s... 39

Phillips's (Mr. Stephen) Poems 47

Primroses 449

I'ublisherH' Annoimccments (Spring Su])-

plement)

Asjociation, The

Publishing, Polyglot

K«idingGaol, A Ballad of 236

Reputations Reconsidered :

Walter Pater 13

IjOi-d Tennyson ... 3J

Matthew Arnold 77

Henry Fielding' 127

Richard Jefferies 179

.Tane Austen ., 262

Jonathan Swift 423

Royal Litentrv Fund, The 641

School Books,' The Trade in 59

Self-Const-ious, The Recreations of the ... 354
Shakespeare's So„„r(.s:, The Problem of ... 79

Shakespeare for Amateurs 264

Shaw, Mr. Bemartl. The Future of ... 476

Sleep, For Those Who Cannot 601

Sn^rk's Signiflcance, The 12S

Konnefc^ on the Sonnet 684

Spring Season, The 313

Steinlen's Cats r)\7

Stevenson as Humorist HGT

8teven8<tn'8 Fables ;J2H

Sudermann, Hermann 528

"Sunken Bell, The" 4i(i

Tolstoi and Maupassant 180

Verse, Light : a Plea for its Revival .. 402
Week, The 17. ;^9.S(>, 103, 132, 158, 18:^,
211,237, 266, 294, 332, 355, 378, 403, I2(i,

460, 478, 603, 530, 559
*'Zack" (i89

Zula's I'arU ;3;30

00RRE3P0NDENCE— cort^inwed.

PAGE

Butler's (A. J.) translation of Ratzel's

History of Mankind 162

Camm's (Bede) A Benedictine Martyr in

Englnnd 161

Critics 41

Criticism, A Question of 333, .357

Dante Rossetti and Chloral 'W^

D'Annimzio in English l>ii

Degree, A New -IHl

Dialect 357

East-End, The Bookless 29(i

English, Purer, A Plea for 358

Falconer's (C M.) " Lang Catalogue " ... 82

" • ■ 161, 181

181, 213

... ;*^4

612, 645
... 240

612, 644

... 693

... 20

506

Fei^usson, Robert ..

"Founder"

Gissing, Mr. George, at Home ... .

Gladstone, Mr., as a Critic

Goethe, A Word about

Jliifiz, Versions from

"Hamlet" and "Plato's Republic"

Heine, Heinrich ,

Horace, The First Ode of ,

Indian Civil Service, Education for the..,

104, 134, 162
"Julius Caesar," Some Remarks upon ...

160, 239, 269

Kiditn pped. The Country of 561, 612

Lang's (A.) Thn Makiny of Religion 693

Literature, Why not Schools in .' 296

" Macchailean Mohr * ' 135

Mallock*« (W. H.) Studiesof Contemporary

Sup'.rstition

Marcus Aurelius

Mai's in i'iction

' ' Much Ado about Nothing "

Newspaper English

Latin

. 45;^

334

181

693

lOi, 134, 3S0

134

...214, 240
...613, 645
670

Pathos

Poetry as She is Writ ...

Prosody, Oriental

Publisher's Complaint, A 613

Publishers, A Tax on 213

R.L.S., A Passage by 240, 269

Itousseau, Jean-.Tac(iues 404

Schoolboy, A, What he Reads 104

Scott, Sir Walter, on Jane Austen is:i

Shagpat, The Shaving of mi

Shakespeare, Was he an Irishman .' 24o

Spelling of the Name of ,5:32, 5!j;t

Statham (F. lieginald) and President

Kruger 693

S^van (Mr, Howard) and the Book of .lob 532

ORIGINAL POETRY.

Between the Moimtiins and the Sea
To England ...

Towers, Round
Translator and Critic ... ,
"Trewinnot of Guy's "
Vandalism at Hampstead

W^nerijina

Zummerzet Zong

...297, 356, 38()

162

a58

...663, 613

296

...268, 295

... 554
... 328

"AOADEMY" PORTRAIT.

Ibsen, Henrik 352

OBITUARY.

Reardsler. Aubrev .S25

Buroe-Jones, Sir Edward 687

'•Carroll, Lewis" 98

Gladstone, Williim Ewart 551, 579

Marks, Stacy 76

Fayn, .Tame** 373

Tennyson, Mr. Frederick 260

I
CORRESPONDENCE. '

.t'lthar. Figures of the 19, 40, 82, 103 i

Bacchylidofl 1.35, 162

Barat's. ^Ir., of Zummerzet 295

Becky Sharp— And After 161

Biblical Revisers 5*;2

Blind's Matbilde Poetry .. ... 41

Bookseller, Set^mdhand, The Bitter Cry

of a.. ... 82, iit't

B'Kikitelling Question, The 104

Brandes, Dr., and Shakespeare*!* Sonnets 105 '

Breck, Alan 532 i

Browning Contest among Board School

ChUdrf-n 4St

Bums Stiperstition, The « 370 I

and America , 613

THE BOOK KAREET.

America, Popular Books in 643

American Prices for English Books 427

Book Sales of 1897 .37

Tiade, State of the 159

Books, Ought they to be Cheaper .' 557

Bookseller, Second-hand, The Bitter Cry

of the ;^

Book.sellers On the Question of Cheaper

Books ... 55,s

Bookselling, The Humom-H of 2115

Without Booksellers 642

Bryon, Is he Road now.' 451

Christmas Tiudo, The is

"Dante, What has he to do wiUi St.

Pancras.'" -^pt

Discount Question, Tlie 80

East-End, The Bookless 238,266

Eaton's (W. A.) " Popular Poems " ... 212
Gladstone, Mr., How he Orderwi Books 588

Halfjwnny Humour ,379

Idler, TAe, The Future of ] 1(J2

Newspapers, The Titles of 102

Novelettes, Penny 503

Novels, Library, Surplus, The Sale of ... 669

Penny Domesticity ... 403

Poetry, Minor, The Sjile of ...131

Publishers, A Tax on 182

Publishing Season, A Summer, Why

Not.' 6j)3

()«o ('(/'//.sin Ameriui 159

Remainders ... xoi

Reviewer, The Rights of the' .'.'. '.'.'. "'. 692

Sienkiewicz, (Columbus ih2

Stationers' Hall, Ought it' to" be

Abolished .' gfjjj

Whitechapel Barrows, The..! ... ... ... 356

KOTES AND VSWd.

PIQK

,. 75, 9t>
New

Academy Awaxds, The

Academy, Royal, Election of

Members for the 153

of Women Writers, I'roposed 448

Akerman's (William) Jtip Van Winkle,

Hud Other I'oenis 374

America, Newspaper Tattle about Lite-
rary Visitors«to 373

, Books selling in 398

, British Authors ill 473

Andei"sen's (Huns <,'hristian) Stories,

Dramatic Adaptations of 125

"Art. A Rccoi-d of, in 1898" 500

Asquith, Mr., on Criticism 5(Jl

Austen, Jane, Proposed Memorial to ... 2;^5

Austin's (Alfred) Songs of Enylnnd 259

Poem on America and

England 373

Authorship, American, Critical Account

of 500,531

Balfour, Mr., on Novelists 11

Barnes, William, Mr. Lang's Deprecia^

tionof 2.34

Bellamy's (Edward) Looking Hackwf^rd ... 579
Beardsley's Work on the "Morte

d'Arthur" 476

Binyon, Mr. Tjaurence, Little Poem by ... 96
■ , Volume of Verse

by 375

BiiTell's (Mr.) Lectui-e on "Copyright"... 177
Bookmarker, Sentences printed on a ... 207
Books most jxipular in the United

States 32

Booksellers' Dinuer, The 526

Borrow, Geoi^e, Dr. Martineau's Recol-
lections of 2tj0

Boston IJbrar>' transformed into a

Menagerie 32

Brownings, Stcjry of the by Mr. Edgar

Fawcett 398

Bryoe's Impir.suloni of South Africa 76

Bryoe, Mr.. Obiter Dicta of 526

Buchan's (John) Poem on '* The Pilgrim

Fathers" 579

Buchanan's (Robert) Saint Abe and His

Seven Wives 97

• 'The Reo. Annabel Lee 165
Bume-Jones, Sir Edward, Personal Rem-
iniscences of 685

Burton, Sir Richard, as a Book Man ... 662
Cable, Mr. G. W., Readings from the

Works of 626, 651

"Can-oil, Lewis," and his Works 95, 205, 261

^ Proposed Memorial to 2i>5

Cassell's The Queen^s Empire 447

Celtic Renaissance, The 681 j

Chambers's (R. W.) Lorraine 205

■ Achievements Sum- I

marised :W9

Civil List Pensions 6<J6

Clark's (C. E.) The Mlttakes We Make ... 665
Colvin's (Sidney) Biography of R. L.

Stevenson 373 '

Conrad's (Mr.) Nigger of the "Narcissus" 289 I

Cornish Magazine 447,663 [

Cory's (William) Hints to Eton .Mn.sters ... 260 i
Cutter's (Geoi-ge W.) " Song of Steam "... 207

Dally Chronicle, Origin of the 327

Davis, Richard Harding, American

Novelist 553

Daudet, Alphonse, Bic^raphy of 326

De Mun, Count Albert 325

Di Lorenzo, Tina, the Italian Actress ... 235 |

Dog in Litemture, The 290

Dowell's (Stephen) Thoughts and Words 154
Doyle's (Mr. Conan) Ballad of "Cre-
mona" 11

BaUad on the

Motor Car 374

Eagle, and the Serpmt, Th- 687

Editing, A remarkable piece of 552

Eitrem's (H.) edition of Thackeray's

Hook vfSnohs 552

Eliot, George, A Description of .. a52

F'l.innc an Lat^ Paper in the Irish Lan-
guage 126

Farrar's (Dean) Quotations in Sermons .

289, 327

FereVa Eulhani Oldand New 262

Finance, New Weekly Paper 32

Forman's (H. Buxton) Text of Keats's

Poems 475

Frazer's (J. G.) Pausanias' Description of

Greece 233

— ; (Mrs. J. G.) Scenes of Child Life

in ColUxjiiial French 327

"Ginger James": A Cape Barrack-
Room Ballad 421

Gladstone, Mr., his Death and his Works 551
Sonnet to a Rejected

.579

Poetical Tributes to 605

and Mr. Menken 685

Quatrain in Sir Charles

527

NOTES AND HEWS— continued.

PAbE

Hallam, Arthur Henry, Mr. Gladstone's

Recollections of 31

Hanotaux, 11., as an Academician 375

Harland's (Mr.) Narrative Gifts :iJtH

Harte's (Bret} "Her Last Letter" 3in»

Heinemann's (Mr.) Summer Moths 'JOJ

Henley's (Mr) "Advertisement" forDe

Thierry's ImpeTutUsm 686

Herkomer's (Mr.) Portrait of Herbert

Spencer 5(.il

Heron-AUen's ( Edward ! iWnsLition of

the Rubaiyat of (tmar Khayyam . ... 97
Hill, Dr. (ieorge Birkbeck. Mr. Percy

Fitzgerald's Imlictinent against 421

Holland's (CliveJ An Egyptian (.'oqnette ... 448
Home University, New Monthly St^gazine

97, 261

Hoi-ton & Yates's J{ook of Iniagea 625

Housman's ;, Laurence) The Little Christian

Year 448

Huysmans, Mr., among the TrappLsts ... 527

'B.MxXilf^S-le.ntific.M'-iiinirH h^i

Hyde, Mr. Williim, Eulogy of the Work

of It

Ibsen, Henrik, Seventieth Birthday of... 206

Stories of 422

Inland Voyage, An, Stevenson's Dedica-
tion of ... *})|7

James, Mr. Henry, in English Portraits ... 6«0
Jerome, Mr, Jerome K., Christmas Card

sent to

Johnson's (Charles F.) What can I do for

Prady! 605

Jourdain, Miss, on .John Keate 55:^

Kilmarnock "Bums," Sale of the 177

Kilpatrick's (James A.) Literary Land-
riuirks of Clang ow 32t>

Kipling's (Mr. Rudyard) Visit to South

Africa

the Sihool Budget

of Torpedo-Boats
Kirkconnei Churchyard
" Klondike Epitaph," A ..
Lamb's .Cliarles) Ijcttera

Lloyd

Lang's (Hr. Andiew) English Academy

"Recessionil" 259
Contribution to

.552

Poem in l*raise

579

525

235

to Robert

. 606

Edinburgh, " Lady

638
261

Lawomarket of
Stair's Close " ii

Lending Aisles, The

Leatherdale's (G.F.) "A Minor Poet's
Testament" 2.*J5

Le Gallienne, Mr., and the Omar Khay-
yam Club 422

" War Poem" by ... .526

Legnis' Dictionnaire de Slang 262

Leland, Mr., Works of 653, 680

"Lions, Young, Among the" 606

Literary Year Book, The 261

Literary Agents described by Blr. W. H.

Ridring 687

1^11, Sir Alfred, on " Heroic Poetrj- " ... 153
Marvell's (Andrew) Cottage on Highgate

Hill 2J»1

Meehan, Father, Reminiscences of 97

Meredith's (Mr. George; Seventieth Birth-
day 206

Napoleonic VerBe 3*7

Selected Poems... 525

Middleton's Spanish Cipsy., Elizabethan

Stage Society's Rei)re«entation of .'i97

Milton, Personal Relic of 663

Modern Quarterly of Language and Litera-
ture ... .. 351

MonoBtich, The 12

Moore's (GooiKe) EcUjn lanes 661

Murray's i^David Chnstie) The Cockney

Cnhnahns IM

Xewdigate Prize for Poetry (K>5

Nietzsche, Friedrich, Condition of 474

Ouida's Views about Minor Biography . 607

■hitlo„k,H\i& 290, 663

:iS
447
373

Sonnet," by.,

Goethe'f

Murray's Biography.

Golfers' Joys, Sonnet on 126

Gould's (F. J.) Tales from the New I'esta-

ment 290

Graf's (Si^or) La Danaida 326

Graham, Mr. Cunninghame, in English

Portraits 5SO

Grand, Mme. Sarah, on Thr. Beth Book ... 12
Haggard's (Rider) King Solomon's Mines 398

Pain's ;Mr. Barry 1 "At Midnight

Parables oy "T. W. H. C."

Pavn, James, The Works of ... ..

Pearson, Mr. C. Arthur, ou Reading in

Trains 637

PhiUips, Mr. Stephen, The Case of 421

's " Clirist in Hades " 446

Plagiarism charged against English

Authors 7C

Poster, The: new Monthly Magazine ... 681

Press Bazaar News, The 68(

Publisher's Enterprise, Ingenious 55f

7'«/(tA'j( " Animal Land " 17*

Ramsay's (jUlan) House in Edinburgh,.. 66^
Ranch in New Mexico, Verses from a .. 52f
Ruwnsley's (Canon) SonnettoMr. Ruskin 17*
Reed's I.E. T.) ".Animal Land" ...375, 47;
Kicliepin, M. .Jean, at Home

Ritchie's (Mi-s.) Story of Pendeunis 6B{

Extnicts from her Father's

Diary ... . 08;;

Robinson's (Edwari Arlington) The

Children of the Night ... ...

Rod, M Edouurd, on the Novelist's Art

Ryan's (W. P.) Literary London „.

lUewusik, M., on Novelists |j

Schinii Budget, The, and Mr. Rudvard

Kipling ; ... 5Cj

Soollard, Mr. Clinton, Verses by

StTPPLKMRNT TO THE ACADEMTP

July 9, 1898. J

CONTENTS OF VOL. LIII.

v.i

NOTES AND NKWS^continued,

PAGK

Scottish Lan^ag^e and Literature, Sug-
gested Ijcctiireship on 637

ServiBs's(Garrfitt V.) Kdhmi^s Conquest of

itnrs 154 i

Shakespeare and Bacon 375

f^iaw, Mr. Bemai'd, Seven Plays by 447, 501|
Smith's (Ada) Song: *'In London

Tow-n'* G3:

Snark's Significance, Tlie 125,326

Stevenson's (Robert Louis'! Memorial at

San Fi'ancisco 7G

Posthumous

Works 397

. "The Fine

pHcific Islands " (Soug^ G07

Stevenson as a Fabulist 374

" Stevenson, the Edinburgh " 685

Swahili Histfliy of Rome 399

Swan's (Mr. Edward) Version of the

Book of Job 500

SjTnons's (Ai"thui') " Prologue : Before

theTheati-e" 525

Tarver's (J. C.) Dehateahie Claims 551

Tennyson, Ixii-d. A Story of 32

^ 's Indebtedness to Catiillu.'* ... 580

Teutonised English ... 207

Thackeray, A Personal Recollection

of ... 527

-, Extracts from the Diary of... 663

NOTES AND N^W&— continued.

PAOB

Tonybee's (Mr. Arnold) Eoad-making

Experiment 500

Tudor Writers on ffiisbawfrie 352

Twain, Mark, Tjctter from 1*2

,inI^etoria 96

• and the Firm of C. L.

Webster & Co 259

Unwin's (Mr. Fisher) Libraiy of Litoi-ary

Histories ... ... 178

Von Vondel's Lunfp.r 262

Wallace's (Mr. Edgar) Verses on Mr.

Kipling 234

War, Effect of, on Publishing and Book-
selling 499

Watt, A. P., Letter.t fo (new edition) ... 421
"WThitman, Walt, A Reminiscence of ... 178
Whittier's Ballad of "Maud Miiller,*'

Parody of 474

Who's Who ioT 1898 234

Wide World Magazine ... ... 475

Wilson & White's Wh^n War Breaks Out 448

Women Writers' Dinner, The 686

Wright's (Thomas) Hii"! Head 2?9

Youd and Thei/d, for " You'd " and

"They'd" 501

Zola, M., as the Champion of Justice 95,

233, 375

'b Letters to France ... 260

to Mr. George Moore 326

ART.

Academy Pictures, The Hundred Best
Art, Modem, at Knightsbridge

, Fi-ench, at the GuUdhalt

New Gallery, The

Royal Academy, Tlie Sliy-lino at the

PAOB
... 804
,.. 559
... 644
... 479
... 5.30

DRAMA.

" Antigone," The, at Bradflold f!91

" Babes in the Wood " at Dnuy Lane ... l.S
"Bachelor's Romjmee. A " at the Globe... .SI
" Beauty Ston", The," at the Savoy ... 6U
"Belle of New York, The," at the

Shaftesbury 429

Chi'di-en's Tales, Selection of, at Terry's 18

" Cinderella " at the Garrick 18

"Conquerors, The," at the St. James's .. 452
"Dovecut, The," at the Duke of York's .. »18
" Hamlet " in Berlin 292

DRAMA — continued.

PAGE

The," at the

42S

at the

" Heart of Maryland,

Adelphi

' His Excellency the Governor

.Court 668

'JuUus Ciesar" at Her Majesty's 1,33

'Lord and Lady Algy" at the Comedy... 480

' Lysiane " at the Lyric ...691

' Master, The," at the Globe 480

* Medicine Man, The," at the Lyceum ... T*)5,

531
"Much Ado about Nothing" at the

St. James's 2.IS

' My Innocent Bov " at the Royalty ...660
" P^lK^as et Melisande " at the Prioce of

Wales's 691

' Peter the Great " at the Lyceum 39

'Runaway Girl, Tlie," at the Gaiety ... 5"8

' Sea Flower, The." at the Comedy 332

'Stranger in New York, A," at the

Duke of York's 691

'Sue," Miss Annie Russell in 668

' Too Much Johnson " at the Garrick ... 452
Trelawny of the Wells " at the Court . . . LfS
■ White Knight, The," at Terry's 267

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THE ONLY LIFE OF THE GREAT CZAR.

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PETER THE GREAT.

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THE ACADEMY.

CONTENTS.

Reviews ;

Mr. Slephen Phillips'* Poetry

The Birth of VirRinia ..

John Nicholson

Architect v. Engineer

Masters of Medicine

Wild Life and Photography...

Armchair Books

B&lEt'EB Mbntiow

Notes lvd News

Reputations RKCOifsiDBREO :

II., Walter Pater

The Loirnoif of the Wbiteks :

IV. , The New Poetry

PlEIS LETrBB

rAtES OF OUB GbAITDHOTHEBS

Vre Wesk

Oeaua

Phb Book Maebet:
New Books Received

l/OERBSPOIfDEirCE

looK Revibws Reviewed

Pisi
... 3
... 4
... 6

^lOTIOir SUPPLEUXITT ...

.. 11

.. 16

,. 17

.. 17

.. 18

.. 19

.. 20

1—2

REVIEWS.

IE. STEPHEN PHILLIPS'S POETEY.
^oems. By Stephen Phillips. (John Lane.)

tN 1890 Mr. Stephen Phillips was one of
four friends who published at Oxford
slender brown-paper-covered pamphlet of
oetry called Primavera. He was not the
lost undeniable jwet of the four. Mr.
laurence Binyon, who also has since made
reputation, showed the more delicate
jcomphshment ; Mr. A. S. Crijjps, of whom
e are sorry to have heard no more, the
ner lyric impulse. But with Christ in
rades, which appeared some years later in
T. Elkin Mathews's Shilling Garland, Mr.
hillips made a remarkable advance. The
)em had qualities — a distinction and an
dividuality — which lifted it out of the
rtegory of minor verse, and attracted some-
jliat widespread attention. In the present
'I'ime Christ in Hades and its accompany-
\Tics are reprinted, and to these are
oiud some fifteen new pieces, which include
]'o or three of considerable pretensions.
The next book published by a new writer
iter he has for the first time made his mark
\ always a critical one. Was that intoxi-
^ting success due only to the glamour of
<e novelty, or to that transient inspiration
■<iicli, once at least in life, and generally in
^uth, comes to so many who have it not
i thrm really to achieve greatness ? or was
i 111 index of vital and enduring gifts, of a
I itive temperament capable of progress,
' alile (jf control? Let us say at once that
1 tiling in Mr. Phillips's new work appears
t us to reach the level of Christ in Hades.
1 -reading that fine poem, we are struck
0:6 again by its comj)leteness and its rare
Ijjrary (jualities. To nobility of funda-
rintal thought it adds an imaginative
tiion by which that shadowy world, half
Ojicure, half defined, with its tremendous
s^nificant figures, is magnificently bodied
feth. And the verse, fully in keeping with

its subject, has the Virgilian stateliness and
the Virgilian simplicity. How grandly it
opens !

" Keen as a blinded man, at dawn awake,
Smells in the dark the cold odour of earth ;
Eastward he tr_ns his eyes, and over bim
A dreadful freshness exquisitely breathes ;
The room is brightening, even his own face !
So the excluded ghosts in Hades felt
A waft of early sweet, and heard the rain
Of Spring beginning over them ; they all
Stood still, and in each others' faces looked.
And restless grew their queen Persephone ;
Who, like a child, dreading to be observed
By awful Dis, threw httle glances down
Toward them, and understood them with her

eyes.
Pei-petual dolour had as yet but drooped
The comers of her mouth ; and in her hand
She held a bloom that had on earth a

name."

Note the precision and the pregnancy of
the epithets. " The excluded ghosts " : how
much it says ! And this is Mr. Phillips's
manner throughout. Elaboration of epithet
he eschews, and will work up to some single
phrase or line, clear-cut and holding easily
all its ample meaning. Surely a Virgilian
trait ! Thus in the ultimate line of the
poem :

" The vault closed back, woe upon woe, the
wheel
Revolved, the stone rebounded ; for that time
Hades her interrupted life resumed."

And again, in the fifth line of this simile :

" Just as a widower, that dreaming holds
His dead wife in his arms, not wondering,
So natiu'al it appears ; then starting up
With trivial words, or even with a jest,
Bealises all the uncoloured dawn
And near his head the young bird in the

leaves
Stirring."

How should language, without the slightest
strain, express more ? It has an almost
jihysical effect upon the reader, in the
opening of the eyes, and the dilation of the
heai't.

Mr. PhiUips has not as yet quite recap-
tured the note of Christ in Hades.
Nevertheless his new work foUows the same
ideals, and, if it achieves less, is stiU pro-
foundly interesting. The drop is, perhaps,
chiefly in finish and distinction of style.
The poems are nearly all in blank verse or
heroic couplets, and the rhythm is often
stiff and wooden ; the careful distribution
of inverted accents and resolved feet fails
to give it the required spontaneity. We
should think that just at present Mr.
PhiUips is not much preoccupied with
questions of technique ; he is more curious
about what he has to say than about how
he says it ; and this in an age of con-
fectionery verse must be irnputed to hun as
a fault on the right side. There are plenty
of writers to be careful how they say their
nothings. Mr. Phillips's poetry, on the
other hand, is primarily a thoughtful poetry.
He is a psychologist, interested in nothing
more than in the conduct of human souls,
especially in the conduct of human souls
when they put off the daily mask, and
reveal themselves under the stress of some

overmastering emotion. Here is a study
of such a sudden and momentary reve-
lation ;

" FACES AT A FIRE.

" Dazzled with watching how the swift fire

iled
Along the dribbling roof, I turned my head ;
When lo, upraised beneath the lighted cloud
The illumed unconscious faces of the crowd !
An old grey face in lovely bloom upturned,
The ancient rapture and the dream returned !
A crafty face wondering simply up !
That djang face near the commimion cup I
The experienced face, now venturous and

rash.
The scheming eyes hither and thither Hash !
That common trivial face made up of needs.
Now pale and recent from triumphal deeds I
The hungry tramp with indolent gloating

stare.
The beggar in glory and released from care.
A mother slowly burning with bare breast,
Tet her consuming child close to her prest !
That prosperous citizen in anguish dire.
Beseeching heaven from purgatorial fire !
Wonderful souls by sudden flame betrayed,
I saw ; then through the darkness went

afraid."

So, for the most part, Mr. Phillips's psycho-
logy is less a psychology of processes than
of crises, and his verse gathers tragic signi-
ficance from the fate-fraught momentous-
ness which such crises are wont to hold in
life. Such a crisis is the theme, for instance,
of what we think the finest of Mr. Phillips's
new poems, " Marjiessa." The story of Mar-
pessa is the subject of one of the recently
recovered Odes of Bacchylides. It is the
inversion of the Judgment of Paris. Mar-
pessa, the mortal maiden, must choose
between her mortal lover, Idas, and her
divine lover, Apollo. Each in turn pleads
his cause. Apollo would assume Marpessa
into the rhythm of the universe. She shall
be associate to the labours of the sun :

" Thou shalt persuade the harvest and bring on
The deeper green ; or silently attend
The fiery funeral of foliage old,
Connive with Time serene and the good hours.
Or — for I know thy heart — a dearer toil,
To lure into the air a face long eick,
To gild the brow that from its dead looks up.
To shine on the unforgiven of this world ;
With slow sweet surgery restore the brain,
And to dispel shadows and shadowy fear."

Idas can offer no such splendid dowry ; but he
speaks the language of passionate human
romance. Here Mr. PhiUips touches his
highest point of lyric rapture, in an
apostrophe fulfiUed, surely, with the very
spirit of poetry :

" I love thee theu
Not only for thy body packed with sweet
Of all this world, that cup of brimming June,
That jar of violet wine set in the air,
That palest rose sweet in the night of life ;
Nor for that stirring bosom all besieged
By drowsing lovers, or thy perilous hair ;
Nor for that face that might indeed provoke
Invasion of old cities ; no, nor all
Thy freshness stealing on me like strange

sleep.
Not for this only do I love thee, but
Because Infinity upon thee broods ;
And thou art full of whispers and of shadows.
Thou meanest what the sea has striven to say
So long, and yearned up the cliffs to tell ;

THE ACADEMY.

r[jAir. 1, 1898.

Thou art what all the winds have uttered not,
What the still night suggestoth to the heart.
Thy voice is like to music heard ere birth,
Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea ;
Thy face remembered is from other worlds,
It has been died for, though I know not when,
It has been sung of, though I know not where.
It has the strangeness of the luring West,
And of sad sea-horizons ; beside thee
I am aware of other times and lands,
Of birth far-back, of lives in many stars.
O beauty lone and like a candle clear
In this dark country of the world ! Thou art
My woe, my early light, my music dying "

Very beautiful too, full of fine thought and
fine feeling, is the long speech in which
Marpessa makes her choice, and, a woman,
has the wisdom to accept the woman's
destiny and miss the divinity's.

Personally, we think " Marpessa "abetter
poem than either "The Woman with the
Dead Soul " or " The Wife." The aloofness
of the setting becomes Mr. Phillips's classical
manner ; whereas the more modem poems,
if they gain in poignancy, seem to us to
sufier a more than disproportionate loss in
breadth and universality. On the other
hand, they are perhaps more characteristic
of the writer in their tragic, troubled outlook
on life. "Marpessa" has the touch of
melancholy which seems inevitably to cling
about all modem reconstructions of classical
myth, but it has not quite that keen sense
of pain in human things to which Mr.
Phillips shows himseU elsewhere so pro-
foundly sensitive. The poetic nature, by
the very law of its being, vibrates between
the pain of life and the joy of life. Mr.
Phillips's nerves are attuned to respond with
more unerring certainty to the stimulus of
the former. In "The New Be Profundk"
he gives expression to the pain of that
curious state of spiritual numbness or inertia
— Acedia the meoiajveil moralists called it —
to which the oppressive conditions of modem
civilisation so frequently give birth :

" I am discouraged by the street.
The pacing of monotonous feet ;
Faces of all emotion purged ;
From nothing imto nothing urged ;
The living men that shadows go,
A vain procession to and fro.
The earth an uru-eal coiu-se doth run,
Haimted by a phantasmal sim."

And a large place is occupied in his verse by
the more obvious, more comprehensively
human pain of desiderium, of regret for per-
sonal loss, for death. Death and the after-
death are stimulant to his imagination : he
" sends his soul into the invisible, some lesson
of that after-life to spell," would give shape
and form to dim visions of that phantasmal
world. He has indeed the cosmic imagina-
tion ; witness his dignified lines on Milton,
large with something of Milton's own large
movement, wherein he conceives the poet is
blinded so that he might better see the
whole.

" He gave thee back original night, His own
Tremendous canvas, large and blank and free,
Where at each thought a star flashed out and

sang.
O blinded with a special lightning, thou
Hadst once again the virgin Dark ! "

In "Beautiful Death" Mr. Phillips de-
liberately poses the problem of death : would
find compensations and "huge amends" in

the thought— caU it fancy, rather— that the
dead, unseen, silentiy, are workmg for the
living, have become part of all the sweet
terrene influences, givers of light and health.

" Thou maiden with the silent speokless ways.
On plant or creature squandering thy heart ;
Thou in caresses large shalt spend thy life.
Conspiring with the summer plans of lovers,

scent
From evening hedge the walk of boy and

girl. .

Thou merchant, or thou clerk, hard driven,

urged
For ever on bright iron, timed by bells,
Shalt mellow fruit in the serene noon air,
With rivulets of birds through fields of light.
Causing to fall the indolent misty peaoh.
Then thou, disturbed so oft, shalt make for

peace ;
Thou who didst injure, heal, and sew, and

bless ;
Thou who didst mar, shalt make for perfect

health ; . ^^

Thou, 80 unlucky, fall with fortunite rain.'

Well, it is a beautiful idea, but it does not
carry conviction. The personal craving will
not be drugged by this hope of impersonal
immortality, nor wUl

" lose calmly Love's great bliss,
When the renewed for ever of a kiss
Sounds through the listless hurricane of hair."

That is Mr. Meredith; but, in truth, Mr.
Phillips has answered himself, for what is
the aspiration of " Beautiful Death " but the
sophistry of ' ' Marpessa, ' ' the sophistry which
the unspoilt humanity of the maiden is
clear-sighted enough to blow away. And
in an earlier lyric is another exquisite
refutation :

O thou art put to many uses, sweet !

Thy blood will urge the rose and surge in

Spring;
But yet! . . .

And all the blue of thee wUl go to the sky.
And all thy laughter to the rivers run ;
But yet ! . . •

Thy tumbling hair will in the West be seen,
And all thy trembling bosom in the dawn :
But yet! . . .

Thy briefness in the dewdrop shall be hung,
And all the frailness of thee on the foam ;
But yet! . . .

Thy soul shall be upon the moonlight spent,
Thy mystery spread upon the evening mere,
And yet ! "

Mr. Phillips provokes argument, but
argument is not criticism, except in so far
as it is homage to the sincerity, the justness,
the worthiness of the poet's thought. And
among all the young poets who are his
contemporaries no one is more interesting
to us than Mr. Phillips. He has not yet
come to his inheritance ; but he has that in
him which may go very far. He has
seriousness of purpose, and the essentially
poetic way of looking at things, interpre-
tative sjrmpathy and that fine imag^ative
insight which can afford to disperse with the
surface of things and go straight to the
heart of them. We trust that he wUl take
Christ in Hades as his standard, and wiU be
content with nothing which does not at
least equal that, alike in individuality of
outlook and in the perfect fusion of matter
into fonu which is that indefinable, inimit-
able, undeniable thing, style.

THE BIETH OF VIEGINIA.

Old Virginia and Her Neighhours. By John
Fiske. (MacmUlan & Co.)

To most Englishmen we suspect the name
Virginia chiefly suggests tobacco. And
they are not so far wrong. Mr. Moncure
Conway, himself a Virginian, has declared
that " a true history of tobacco would be
the history of Engli.sh and American
liberty." Certainly, it would be the history
of Virginia. It was not tobacco, however,
but treasure which tempted Sir Humphrey
Gilbert and Ealeigh to undertake their
first expedition to North America in
1578. No doubt they hoped to emulate
Spain, which by that time had taken from
her colonies gold and silver amounting to
nearly £1,000,000,000. The expedition
turned out disastrously and Gilbert sank
with his ship ; but six years later Raleigh
sent out another expedition, which landed in
the country now known as North Carolina.
The Indian who was asked the name of his
country replied, " Win-gan-da-coa," wliich
signified " What pretty clothes you wear."
This name Queen Elizabeth, when the
explorers reported it to her, transformed
into Virginia.

After the first colony had been miu-
dered by the Indians, Ealeigh assigned
the rights of trading in Virginia to
a company of which the Eev. Eichard
Hakluyt was the most remarkable member.
Though his own travels did not extend
much further than Paris, he had listened
with profit to the tales of all the
travellers who went in and out of
Bristol, and seems to have known by in-
tuition the course which should be adopted
by the colonists in choosing their head-
quarters and in dealing with the natives.
He declared with prophetic insight that
America would form a great market for
English wares and a home for the thousands
of labourers who were even then losing
their employment owing to the substitution
of pastoral for arable land. The paper of
instructions which he drew up for the use of
the settlers might haye been the outcome
of many years of personal experience of
savage lands, so much to the point is his
advice. No better man than Captain John
Smith could have been found to carry out his
admirable precepts. In service with Sigismund
Bathorl, Prince of Transylvania, he had met
and killed three Turks successively in single
combat, and received from the Prince a coat-
of-arms with three Turks' heads in a shield.
The Turks had their revenge later on, for
they captured him, and sold him into slavery.
He was dressed in the skin of a wild beast,
and had an iron collar about his neck, but
managed to kill the brutal Pasha who owned
bim and to escape into Eussia, and thence,
after further adventures in Germany, France,

Spain, and Morocco, to England, just in tune
to take part in the expedition to Virginia, in
1607.

The explorers landed on May 13 m
Hampton Eoads, and built a fort, afterward?
known as Jamestown. The Indians lurkn
in the long grass, and picking off t
garrison with their barbed stone-tipi
arrows — "sniping," in fact — were vei.
annoying, and disease and starvation sooi

Jan. 1, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

also assailed the intruders, while quarrels
among- the leaders, begun on board ship,
continued on land. In January, 1 608, Smith,
who had been very active in trading with
tlie Indians for com, was captured by a
party of the Powhatans, and would probably
have suffered death had not the chief's young
daughter, Pocahontas, rushed up and em-
braced him, and laid her head upon his to
shield him ; whereupon her father spared
liis life. This picturesque story has always
furnished a battle - ground for historians.
Bancroft, in the first edition of his history,
y:ave it in all good faith. Charles Deane, in
his Notes on Wingfiel(Pg Discourse of Virginia,
published at Boston in 1859, attacked it so
fiercely that Bancroft was induced to leave
it out in subsequent editions, though by a
curious oversight a reference to it was
allowed to remain in the index. Eventu-
ally, it was once more restored to the body
of the text. Mr. Fiske has examined the
story in some detail, and comes to the con-
clusion that it is true, chiefly on the
groimd that in 1624, when Smith first pub-
lished it, there were plenty of people who
knew the facts to contradict it if it were
false, and that "without it the subsequent
relations of the Indian girl with the English
colony became incomprehensible; but for
her friendly services on more than one
I ccasion the tiny settlement woidd probably
have perished."

Times were very hard, as it was. A good
many of the settlers were "gentlemen,"
wlio did their best to learn wood cutting,

I'Ut

"the axes so oft blistered their tender fingers
that many times every third blow had a loud
lithe to drwne the eccho; for remedie of which
si line the President devised how to have every
mail's othes numbred, and at night for every
1 'the to have a cann of water powred downe his
sleeue, with which every offender was so
washed (himselfe and all) that a man should
scarce hear an othe in a weeke."

hostage would be put to death. As it was
mtensely cold, some charcoal was charitably
furnished for the prisoner's hut. In the evening
ms friend returned with the pistol, and then
the prisoner was found apparently dead,
suffocated with the fumes of the charcoal,
whereupon the friend broke forth into loud
lamentations. But the Englishmen soon per-
ceived that some Ufe was still left in the
unconscious and prostrate form, and Smith
told the wailing Indian that he should restore
his fnend to hfe, only there must be no more
steahng. Then, with brandy and vinegar and
friction, the faUmg heart and arteries were
stimulated to their work, the dead savage came
to life, and the two comrades, each with a
small present of copper, went on their way
rejoicing. The other affair was more tragic.
Aji Indian at "Werowocomoco had got possession
N. * J?,& °^. gunpowder, and was playing with
it whde his comrades were pressing closely
about him, when all it once it took fire and
exploded, killing three or four of the group and
scorching the rest. Whereupon, our chronicler
tells us, ' these and other such pretty accidents
so amazed and affrighted Powhatan and all his
people that from all parts with presents they
desired peace, returning many stolen things
which we never demanded nor thought of ; and
after that ... all the country became abso-
lutely as free for us as for themselves.' "

Meanwhile the London company had been
reorganised, the list of its new members
being headed by the name of Robert Cecil,
Earl of Salisbury, and it now sent a new
expedition, under Captain Newport, to the
refief of the colonists. But Newport's ship,
the Sea Venture, was wrecked upon the
" stUl vext Bermoothes," and only a portion I
— and they not the most desirable — of the )
new settlers reached Jamestown. Soon
after their arrival Smith had to go home
invalided, and then ensued a terrible period,
which Mr. Fiske calls " the starving time."

of
no

Soon somebody discovered a bank
bright yellow dirt, and "there was
thought, no discourse, no hope, and no
wijik but to dig gold, wash gold, refine
yc'ld, and load gold." Captain Newport
I arried a load of the stuff to London, only
t< 1 find that all is not gold tliat glitters, and
I that the coop of plump turkeys which he
I also carried, " the first that ever graced an
i English bUl of fare," was far more valu-
able. The energy thus dissipated would
have been far better devoted to agriculture,
for the Indians were beginning to withhold
their corn, " with a doggedness that refused
even the potent fascination of blue glass
beads "; and it required all Smith's inge-
nuity and pluck to obtain supplies, while
a warning from Pocahontas alone saved him
and his companions from massacre. Fortu-
nately the Indians were in mortal terror of
the white men's firearms.

" A couple of accidents confirmed this view
of the case. One day, as three of the Chicka-
hominy tribe were loitering about Jamestown
admiring the rude fortifications, one of them
stole a pistol and fled to the woods with it.
His two comrades were arrested, and one was
held in durance, while the other was sent out
to recover the pistol. He was made to under-
stand that if he failed to bring it back the

"After the last basket of com had been
devoured, people Uved for a while on roots and
herbs, after which they had recourse to can-
nibalism. The corpse of a slain Indian was
boiled and eaten. Then the starving company
began cooking their own dead. One man
killed his wife and salted her. . . . No wonder
that one poor wretch, crazed with agony, cast
his Bible into the fire, crying, ' Alas ! there is
no God ! ' "

At length some sixty souls, the haggard
remnant of 500 that Smith had left, de-
termined to try and make their way to New-
foundland. They dismantled their cabins,
and were sailing in pinnaces down
the ever - widening James Eiver when
a black speck was seen far below on the
broad waters of Hampton Eoads. It was
the Governor's own longboat bearing a
message that his three weU-stocked ships
had passed Point Comfort, with himself on
board.

Thenceforward the history of Virginia is
smoother. Tobacco-planting was introduced
with such success that soon it ousted almost
every otherform of agriculture. The solecur-
rency was tobacco ; even the parson's annual
salary was 16,000 pounds of tobacco; fines
were paid in tobacco. Charles I. tried to make
himself the sole consignee of the colony's
greatest product, and Cromwell passed a
Navigation Act which forbade the importa-
tion of goods into England except in Eng-
lish or Colonial bottoms, and, as enforced by

later rulers, produced much discontent. For
though James I. had taken away the Com-
pany s charter, and Charles I. had appointed
Eoyal Governors, the House of Burgesses
continued to exhibit the "virus of liberty"
inherent in English blood. The local laws
were, however, somewhat paternal. An un-
married man was taxed according to his
apparel; a married man— this is indeed
drastic — according to his own and his wife's
apparel. An attempt was even made to
put down flirting by an enactment which
provided that

" what man or woman soever should use any
word or speech tending to a contract of
marriage to two several persons at once should
for such their offence either undergo corporal
correction (by whipping) or be punished by
fine or otherwise."

We have left ourselves no room to speak
of Mr. Fiske's interesting account of the
settlement of Maryland, which was a " Pala-
tinate " foimded on the model of Durham,
and of the subsequent history of the various
States. His pages show clearly how the
institution of slavery was the direct result
of the tobacco industry, and how the 'plan-
tation system tended to differentiate the
population into three classes — the planters,
the negroes, and the " mean whites." His
book is a storehouse of facts relating to the
government, history, and customs of Vir-
ginia and her neighbours. If we have a
complaint against him it is that he has filled
it almost too full of interesting details, so
that the main lines of development are
sometimes rather hard to follow. That is
the sole blemish upon a work which is as
entertaining as it is instructive.

JOHN NICHOLSON.

The Life of John Nicholson : Soldier and
Administrator. Based on Private and
Hitherto Unpublished Documents. By
Captain L. J. Trotter. (John Murray.)

The name of John Nicholson was probably
unknown to the present generation until it
was widely blazoned, only within the last
year or two, by Mrs. Steele's novel of the
Indian Mutiny, On the Face of the Waters,
and by Lord Roberts's Forty-one Years in
India. It is, therefore, in happy time that
Captain Trotter has issued this full Life of a
man concerning whom latter-day curiosity has
been much piqued, and who appears to fulfil
more completely than any other Englishman
of the century both the simple and romantic
ideal and the practical and philosophic
notion of tlie Hero in Action. It puts no
slight upon the admirable and industrious
biography of Captain Trotter — at any rate,
we do not mean it as such — to say that his
method of putting together the material he
has acquired and his style of writing are
not equal to the magnificence of his subject ;
for to write adequately of the Hero and
Demigod you need the Poet. And Captain
Trotter, for all his admiration of Nicholson
and his assiduity in collecting all the facts
that can bo gleaned of Nicholson's career,

is lacking not only m the rhythm ami
eloquence of the Poet, but also in the far
more valuoble quality of imagination— that
force of imagination which melts multi-
tudinous hard detail in its own fire and runs
it into the shape of life.

Although Captain Trotter's own efforts in
style achieve no more than worn cluMs and
tacs of verse for picturesque narrative and
decoration, some of tlie letters he quotes,
written by men of vigour and perspicacity
(and "not necessarily for publication, tbe
thought of which has the effect of panic on
many capable men) are a refreshnient and
an illumination. Two years before the
Mutiny Herbert Edwardes wrote thus to an
inquiring friend concerning Nicholson :

" Of what class is John Nicholpon the type ?
Of 11 ne; for truly he stands alone. But he
b-longs essentially to the school of Henry
Lawr noe. I only knocked down the walls of
the Bannu /w<s, John Nicholson has since
reduced the j)eo/)/e — the most ignorant, de-
praved, and bloodthirsty in the Punjab— to
such a atate of good order and respect for the
laws that, in the last year ( f his charge, not
only was there no murder, burglary, or highway
robbery, but not even an atttrnpt at any of those
crimes. The Bannuchis, reflecting on their own
metamorphofi", in the village gatherings under
the T^nes, by the streams they once delighted to
tight for, have come to the conclusion that the
Kood Muhummadans of historic ages must have
been hke Nikahain. They emphatically approve
him as every inch a hakim (master or lord).
And so he is. It is difficult to describe him ; he
must be seen. Lord Dalhousie — no mean
judge — perhaps best summed up his high
military and ^ministrative qualities when he
called him ' a tower of strength.' I can only
say that I think him equally fit to be com-
missioner of a division or general of an army."

Take further these words of Colonel Becher,
written upon Nicholson's famous death after
the storming of Delhi :

"Foremost in all brave couus-1, in all
glorious audacity, in all that marked a true
soldier, so admirable was our dear friend,
John Nicholson. From the beginning of the
great storm his was the course of a meteor.
His noble nature shone brighter an't brighter
through every cloud, bringing swift and sure
punishments to rebellion, wherever it raised its
front in the Punjab, carrying confidence and
new vigour to the walls of Delhi, triumphant
in the greatest fight that preceded the assault ;
the admiration of all the force. His genius
foresaw the sure success : his undaunted courage
carried the breach. He fell, the greatest hero
we have had, loved and mourned through all
India. Glorious fellow ! . . . How proud must
his mother feel that God gave her such a son,
even though he was so soon taken away ! "

Nicholson was thirty-five when he died at
Delhi of his wound. He went to India at
the age of seventeen, and ho was only two
years older when he underwent a long and
terrible imprisonment in Afghanistan after
the disaster to our arms there in 1841.
Ever after Nicholson had the extremest
distrust and hatred of the Afghans. Him-
self of the nicest honour and the simplest
Bincerity, he declares he "cannot describe
their character in language sufficiently
strong. . . . From the highest to the lowest,
every man of them would tell both country
and relations. . . . The surest mode of
apprehending a criminal was to tamper with

THl-: ACADEMY.^^

his nearest friends and relations." After
that, although he saw a good desa of
service and won recognition in the two bikh
wars, it was mainly as administrator of
certain districts of the conquered Punjab
that he earned his unique fame, until the
appalling and lurid episode of the Mutiny ;
and it is precisely in that administrative
period that we get the most blurred and
flat picture of the hero. And the reason is
that that period is most cumbered with
detail, not only in fact, but also in its
exposition here. It was then that Nichol-
son won and exhibited his singular influence
over the natives. But we see little and feel
less of such influence until well through the
volume we come upon one or two anecdotes
characteristie of his dealing with the natives,
whether prince or peasant.

But, after all, it is not difficult to under-
stand the springs of Nicholson's god-like
reputation among the tribes of the Punjab.
His handsome, gigantic figure, his bound-
less energy, his wrath, his justice, his
tenderness to the poor and feeble, his
severity in punishment and his grim humour
withsJ, his generosity in reward and his
carelessness of himself, — all these things, as
well as his swiftness in the act of war and
his fiery personal courage, clearly marked
him out to be the idol and the hero of
simple, brave, and semi-barbarous tribes.
The story has been told before how he was
so adored and worshipped that, in 1849, a
Hindu devotee discovered him to be "a new
Avatar, or incarnation of the Brahmanic
godhead," and how thus a new creed and a
new sect were founded of Nikahain. But,
we imagine, the story has not been told
before which Captain Trotter quotes from
Sir Donald Macnabb of the singular and
touching behaviour of the Nikalsainig on the
death of Nicholson. There is no space to
quote it here, but it may be read in its
proper place in Captain Trotter's volume.

And, in fine, it is due to Captain Trotter to
repeat that, if we are somewhat disappointed
with his work, it is not that his performance
is so poor and small as that his subject is
so rich and great. Some day Mr. Eudyard
Kipling may think it worth his while to
attempt a portrait of John Nicholson which
we can " see all round."

[Jan. 1, 1898.

AECHITECT v. ENGINEEE.

Modern Architecture : a Book for Architects
and the Public. By H. Heathcote Statham.
(Chapman & Hall.)

In this book Mr. Statham has chosen for
the most part to make a liler aureus of
creditable achievement. In addition to his
example and his criticisms of contemporary
work Mr. Statham expounds some principles
which are the seeds from which only really
fine results can spring. True architectural
design, he says, is a kind of symbolism ;
it may merely symbolise the interior arrange-
ments of the building ; but in a sense more
poetical it may symbolise moods of feeling
or of association — "power, gloom, grace,
gaiety, gracefulnes." Every detail should
express an idea which shall combine, like

the words of a sonnet, with the many others
that will crowd aroimd, to form the har-
monious symbol of the dominant intention.
Mr. Statham cites an instance of this
" architectural characterisation." At the
Paris Exhibition of 1889 he wished to find
the pavilion of the Pastellists. "All at
once I caught sight of it a little way off:
there was no notice that I could read from
where I was, but I had no t'ou^t of the
building and went straight to it." He
then describes the treatment of detail by
which the ultimate expression of the motive
was achieved. He applies the theory of
symbolism to many of the buildings he has
illustrated, and points to modern architects .
who have written large on their exterior
elevations the objects of the structures.
He notes that a church almost expresses
itself: a very gifted architect of our day
may have had this in his mind when he
said: "0! any fool can design a church."
From base to chimney summit a building
should be an organism : to remove one
feature should produce the same effect as a
wound upon the body ; it may be remem-
bered that, some years ago, the urns that
mark the receding stages of the tower of
St. Mary-le-Strand were taken down ; the
effect was so painful that the parish rebelled
and new vases of the old design were hauled
aloft to their stone resting-places.

Mr. Statham rightly insists on the need of
good planning ; it is the first process in the
creation of the organic whole ; a plan well
thought out goes far to secure the perfection
of the completed structure. The making of
clever plans is one of the few arts that have
really flourished in our days. The growing
up of new municipalities and the develop-
ment of old ones, the demand therefore for
town halls; the luxurious habits of the
people, who have mansions built for them ;
the system of housing families in flats, the
growth of hotels ; all these and many other
causes have produced a school of planning
to which there has hitherto been no parallel.
Never before was so much ingenuity needed
nor so much thought expended on the com-
pacting of plans. The complication of
services ; in towns the irregularity and con-
I striction of sites ; and, in other cases, the
novelty of requirements have vitalised the
dry bones of the old conventional system of
plan, and introduced possibilities of internal
effects and exterior symbolisms to which
the older architects were never called.
Elaborate plans are among our few origi-
nalities. Unfortunately, a lovely plan can,
in most cases, only appeal to the expert. To
be able to draw a competent plan is almost
in itself a sufficing art; it is to create
logical and geometric beauty ; to have drawn
it is to have made a picture ; to set it out on
the site is to capture an intellectual and
practical delight which will not depart until
the completion of the structure. The glory
of the plan, as has been hinted, is so obscured
by technicalities that it can be fully felt
only by the initiate ; still, such a plan as that
of the Paris Hotel de Ville— shown by Mr.
Statham — should appeal, by its intrinsic
dignity and charm, to that appalling majority
who know nothing about architecture. It
is sad to think how many cultivated people
wander through the streets of cities and

Jan. 1, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

cannot distinguish good design from bad.
How many persons know the only fine front
in Piccadilly ? How many ever think about
the fragment of Whitehall? Do people
often note the vista through the arches of
Somerset House ? Why is so much beauti-
ful work lost in the Shaftesbury Fountain ?
Only the few could give the reason why.

Therefore such books as this of Mr.
Statham, dealing with principles, are so
useful, if the people wiU only read them ;
but architecture seems a stern study to
those who are not strongly called to it, or
who are engrossed in other pursuits. It is,
however, a strange fact that one great pro-
fession which should be kind and kindred
is, in effect, actively hostile. The civil
engineer who builds in iron is a product of
this centurj' ; his masterliness in construc-
tion, his powers of invention, his skill in
satisfying the needs lie has created, have
gained for liim a position which is new and
amazing. The scientific sjiirit being clear
as to its objects, keen in its analysis, and
irrefutable in its deductions, has captivated
many strong minds. Science unadorned,
exultant and intolerant, has wrenched from
architecture provinces oiE labour ; indifferent
to ugliness, it has set utility in high places,
and, satisfied with its own ingenuity, has,
with much success, eliminated beauty. In
London Bridge you see the now excluded
architect ; in the railway viaduct at Charing
Cross you view the engineer unashamed.
Mr. Aitchison, A.E.A., in one of his Eoyal
Academy lectures, said: "Science that in
mediasval days was in the mire is now at
the top of the wheel, while art is in the
mud." And, again: " So far as I know
there is no a priori reason why art and
science should not flourish together, altliough
in later times we know they have not."
Thus we live in the age of the unaided
engineer, since science has wiUed it so.
Mr. Statham warns students against the
argument of some architectural critics that
such great structures as the Forth Bridge
are the real architectural works of the
modern period. He admits that the great
intellectual triumphs of the present era
have been in scientific invention and not
in artistic creation. He lays it down
as an axiom that it is not until we
get beyond the merely utilitarian aim that
we enter the domain of architecture in the
best sense of the word. He says : " With
whatever new materials we have to deal,
architecture must still remain the art of
producing what is beautiful and expressive
in building, which involves a great deal
j more than the mere question of economic
structure." Thus the Forth Bridge is not
art but a problem in cantilevers.

MASTEES OF MEDICINE.

■Idhn Hunter. By Stephen Paget.

inilinm Harvey. By D'Arcy Power.

Sir James Y. Simpson. By H. Laing
Gordon. (T. Fisher Unwin.)

The idea of a series of short popular

! medical biographies was a good one ; and

the three volumes before us make a capital

beginning. Each Life is gripped sym-
pathetic.'dly. Mr. Paget, for instance, teUs
the story of Hunter's breathless career
with the right galloj), the right amount of
anecdote — anecdote being so swift in its
revelation. Hunter was one of those men
who solve the riddles of life by hurry-
ing on. Mr. Paget compares him with
Swift, who "tore through life." He
did not even play at cards. "Come to
me to-moiTow morning, young gentleman,"
he said to a budding surgeon newly arrived
in London, " and I will put you in the way
of things ; come early in the morning, as
soon after four as you can." The youngster
kept the appointment, and found Hunter
dissecting beetles. His thirsts to learn and
to teach were equally insatiable. When
need was, he could quarrel ; and then he
would keep twenty men at bay and do his
work calmly the while ; witness the story
of his struggle to improve the medical
teaching of St. George's Hospital, which he
joined six years after its foundation. He
fed liis enthusiasm with endless acquisitions
of natural history specimens — quick and
dead ; but the story of his collection is an
old one. His letters to Jenner will be
immortal in the profession. They quiver
with haste and eagerness :

" Dear Jeuner, — I receivtd yours, as also
the cuckoo's stomach." ..." Dear Jenner, —
I am always plaguing you with letters, but
you are the only man I own apply to. I put
three bedgehogs in the gorden. and put meat
in different places for them to eat as they went
along; but they all di>d. N<w, I want to
know what this is owing to." ..." Dear
Jenner, — I received yours with the heron's
legs."

Once he rushed into a bookseller's shop
and said :

" ' Mr. N , lend me five pounds and you

shall pro halves ! '

' Halves in what y '

' Why, halves in a luaguiflcent tiger which is
now dying in Castle-street.' "

"Don't think, try; be patient; be ac-
curate," was his motto ; and, in a large
degree, it has been the broad motto of
the medical profession since Hunter died.
He left to his fellow-men achievements
which even Mr. Paget hardly tries to
estimate, and a collection which so em-
barrassed them that it lay for thirteen
years in his liouse in Leicester-square before
a scheme could be framed for dealing with
it. Hunter found time to marry happily.
In 1859 Frank Buckland sought for and
found Hunter's coffin in the vaults of
St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, and the great
anatomist was then laid in the north aisle
of Westminster Abbey.

It is pleasant, in turning to the second
and third volumes in this series, to find
them written with the same quick apprehen-
sion of the charm of their subjects. Mr.
D'Arcy Power is alive to the even, stately
progress which Harvey kept through life
under King and Common wealth. We
see him in his zenith, riding out
from Ludgate to visit his patients, as
Aubrey saw him, " on horseback with a
foot-cloth, his man still following on foot,
as the fashion then was, which was very
decent," Maybe Shakespeare stood still to

see the courtly physician, who had discovered
the circulation of the blood, go past. Maybe
Harvey passed Bacon in the narrow street,
and bowed coldly to the man who, he
said, " wrote jjliilosopliy like a Lord Chan-
cellor." We see Harvey again, as Lumleian
lecturer, presiding over a " public anatomy,"
with its quaint and turgid ceremonial, at
Amen Corner. We follow him witli Cliarles
I. to Scotland, whore he would steal away
from the glittering court to the Bass Eock
to pick up eggs, and solve, if he could, tlie
problem of incubation ; or, later, to Edge-
hill, where, during the battle, he took
charge of tlie two boys, aged twelve and
ten years, who afterwards reigned as
Charles II. and James II. Best of
aU, in the sunset of his life we find
him sitting on the leads of Cockaine
House, in the City, " for the indulgence of
his fancy," or expounding, in wise and
learned talk, to Janssen. He could look
back on a life that answered to liis fine
motto, " Dii laboribus omnia vendunt "
("For toil the gods sell everything ") ; yet so
modest he was, that Janssen could write :
" Our Harvey . . . has not comported him-
self like those who, when they publish,
would have us believe that an oak had
spoken, and that they had merited tlie rarest
honours — a draught of hen's milk, at tlie
least." Mr. Power makes a lucky com-
parison between Harvey and Hunter. They
had, indeed, much in common. Harvey
loved to cut up animals : " his lectures
show an intimate acquaintance with more
than sixty kinds." Aubrey says he dissected
toads ; and when the Parliamentarian
soldiery rifled his house, his chief sorrow
was the loss of many observations on the
generation of insects. Like Hunter, Harvey
was a short, choleric man, a bom collector,
an ardent comparative anatomist ; less eager,
perhaps (there has been only one Hunter),
but better bred — a finer and a courtlier
man.

Tlie third volume before us carries us
into that world of Edinburgh medicine
which has produced so many great doctors.
Sir James Young Simpson, the discoverer of
chloroform, rose fi-om humble life in a Lin-
lithgowshire village. The villagers always
said he would do great things, for was he
not a seventh son? And so heartily did he
work and play as a boy that he was known
as the " wise wean." He came to be a
veritable king of medicine. In 1845, when
he paid a professional visit to London,
society rose to greet him, and boys sold his
Life in the streets.

Simpson did more than promote health,
he irradiated it. His considting practice
grew to enormous dimensions. He was
gloriously unmethodical, and so careless of
money that he would wrap professional or
antiquarian specimens in bank-notes, and
liis valet had to empty his pockets each
night of the money with whicli he had care-
lessly filled them during the day. Nor was
he less than independent :

"When I called for Simpson," says one of
his friends, "his two reception rooms were as
usual full of patients, more were seat^-d in the
lobby, female faces stared from all the windows
in vacant expectancy, and a lady was ringing
the door-bell. But the doctor brushed through

THE ACADEMY.

[Jaw. 1. 1898.

the crowd to join me, and left them all kicking
their heels for the next two hours."

The personal magnetism of the man was
immense: he had the " Heraclean cheer-
fulness and courage " which Eobert Louis
Stevenson ascribed to doctors. Mr. Gordon
tells the story of his "Fight for Anses-
thesia " in one stirring chapter, showing us
how Simpson met the medical, the moral,
and the religious objections to chloroform.
In Scotland the religious objections were as
strong as any, and were analogous to those
raised against threshing machines by the
Scottish farmers who had for generations
tossed their com on shovels. But Simpson
could quote Scripture, and he silenced his
opponents with the text: "And the Lord
God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam ;
and he slept ; and He took one of his nbs
and closed up the flesh instead thereof."

We have but dipped into these bio-
graphies; but they are racy enough to
tempt columns of quotation. They are not
too long. They are bound in as gay a
fashion as many novels, and they are more
readable than most.

WILD LIFE AND PHOTOGEAPHY.

With JVature and a Camera. By Eichard
Kearton, F.Z.S. Illustrated by Pictures
from Photographs by Cherry Kearton.
(Cassell & Co.)

When Mr. Eichard Kearton, some years
ago, produced his book about British

birds' nests it was seen that he had
seized upon a method for taking fuU
advantage of that re-awakened love of
nature characteristic of the town-dweUing
modern. He was the first to show what
photography could do by representing young
birds and eggs and nests in situ, and his
writing, too, is in a sense photographic. That
is, it is uninformed by the spirit and poetry
of nature. You do not catch him dropping
his camera "to feel back into the centuries ";
when he is searching for the merlin or
watching the kestrel on down and moor he
is not distracted by curiosity about "the
man in the barrow," who so long ago also
saw the wild hawk striking the partridge,
and the butterfly fluttering on its love flight ;
he does not stop to wonder at his own
ego, and reflect that the wind will blow
and the brook will sing and the rain
fall, when his eye sees no longer, just
as they did thousands of years before he
was bom. In a sense, the writer is lucky
not to be perplexed by such thoughts :
they endear him only to the few across
whose minds similar speculations have
flashed ; they make dull, uncomprehended
reading for the many who prefer a material
fact, illustrated by an exact picture. But
the grosser taste in itself is perfectly sane and
wholesome. The healthy average man is
not to be blamed for living only in the
present minute and caring nothing for " the
man in the barrow," and thinking little of
the wider beauty and mystery of life. It
is something to be thankful for when a
writer like Mr. Kearton comes forward with
wholesome and nourishing food for a robust

and healthy appetite. We may, and do,
regret that a JefEeries was allowed to starve
mainly because he stood upon a higher
plane ; but that would be a poor reason for
refusing to acknowledge the candour and
sincerity, and a kind of sunny youthfulness,
with which this book is written. Taken
within its own limits, it is wholly pleasant
and admirable.

In the end it will probably be found that
photography is not an ideal method for
illustrating natural history, and that its
province is rather to rectify the errors of the
draughtsman than to supplant his work, but
it is admirably adapted to the book before
us. The author's aim is to describe the
difiiculties and adventures encountered while
gathering material for his previous work.
He explains that he and his brother are
engaged in the city, but having been bom
and bred on the wild Yorkshire moors, and
having imbibed a passion for outdoor life in
childhood, they are in the habit, when
holiday time comes round, of returning to
the old pursuit. And their zeal has carried
them into distant and little known haunts.
The rarer birds, especially those of the sea,
can only be studied in places difficult of
access. They are protected and breed freely
on the Fame Islands, which are now pre-
ser^^ed for them. When in the neighbourhood,
however, we rather wonder that the brothers
did not penetrate inland as far as Pallins-
burn, where the famous pond is a breeding-
place of the black-headed guU {larus ridi-
hundus) and has long been kept as a kind of
sanctuary for wild fowl. Quite close at hand,
too, is Haggerston, where Mr. Christopher
Leyland has foi-med a very different kind of
sanctuary, and nylghais, gazelles, mouflon,
kangaroos, yaks and antelopes, may be seen
in an English park. On the neighbouring
Cheviots several of the rarer faUonidm may
be studied to advantage. Further north
the author and photographer visited the
Bass Eock, where they obtained one or two
excellent pictures of Solan geese. The
following extract will exhibit the nature of
this pastime :

" My brother was anxious to obtain a picture
showing a good crowd of gdnnets in it; and
when he descended for that purpose to the very
edge of the cliff, and began to stalk the birds
(with his camera in front of him) from ledge to
ledge -off any of which the slightest slip
meant a headlong plunge of a hundred and
fifty feet into the sea below — I saw one of the
men who had accompanied us in the boat turn
away, and heard him mutter to himself : ' Ven-
turesome devil; he'll never get off the Bass
aUve.' "

More than a third of the book is devoted
to an account of St, Kilda, another favourite
hunting ground of the naturalist, inhabited
by a score or so of the most primitive folk to
be found in the British Islands. With very
great charm Mr. Kearton has succeeded in
rendering their old world habits and pur-
suits. On another occasion, perhaps, he
may be induced to go yet further afield.
There are many aspects of bird life well
worth studying in the more remote and
solitary islands of the Orkney and Shetland
group. Twice — and both times, as it curiously
happened, on a Christmas Day — we have
seen a golden eagle perched upon the spire
of St Magnus' Cathedral in Kirkwall, and

the scarce visited islets set amid those
dangerous currents, where the Atlantic
waters sweep round the stormy Pentland
and make an endless jumble as they meet
those of the North Sea, are practically un-
disturbed haunts of birds now become rare
elsewhere.

We do not so much care for Mr. Kearton' s
writing on gamekeepers, poachers, and other
themes connected with the South. These
have been written about so often and so
well that it is difficult to add a new touch,
and we miss that charm of a first impression
that is so attractive in the Northern sketches.
Finally, let it be added with great caution
of statement, that Mr. Kearton has described
and photographed the famous St. Kilda
wren. We add not one word more, because
so emulous are naturalists of claiming the
glory of having discovered this little mite of
a bird, that to connect one man's name with
it is only to invite indignant correspondence
from another. Enough, then, to say that
Mr. Kearton has not only confirmed the story-
that St. Kilda rejoices ia a wren all to itself,
but has succeeded in obtaining its photo-
graph.

AEMCHAIE BOOKS.

By an Unprofessional Critic.

II.— A Chiel among the F.E.S.'s.*

" Dr. Sharpey, while writing the Council
Minutes, talked with me of sundry matters.
He said on the limch table of the Athenfeum
there is, at times, a boar's head. Hart, the
artist, a Jew, stood one day looking at the
head, and Landseer, coming in with a friend,
whispered, ' Do you know what Hart is think-
ing about ? Almost thou persuadest me to be
a Christian.' "

That is a quotation from The Jownnh of
Walter White, the latest volume of remi-
niscences. Here is another passage, en-
shrining a picture of Thackeray. The date
is June 23, 1859 :

"While in Chapman's counting-house was
introduced to Thackeray, who happened to
come in. Had heard so often that he was ugly,
that I was agreeably surprised to find him
otherwise : he has a lively eye, fresh colour, and
an appearance of old youth or youthful age.
Told him I had been the means of making
persons like his books. I longed to tell
him that he had harped too much on the
sentimental string in the Virginians, to the
exclusion of incident and the detriment of the
work. He said he wished he had five numbers
yet instead of three. In reply to a remark of
P. Chapman's he said that if he had a rich,
uncle he should strangle him. Then F. C,
' You say that who can write such books ; why J
if I could write such books as yours I wouldn'q
envy even Rothschild. I don't as it is.' Soot
after he rose, shook hand, expressed pleasure at
having made my acquaintance, and said : ' 1 1
away a little taller, Mr. White, for this conH
versation with you.' During the conversation
P. C. said that E. Chapman had once said \^
Dickens, ' Take a pinch of snuff,' and hande
him a box containing £1,400.

That surely is a most excellent way to takd
snuff! From another of Walter White's

* The Journals of Walter White. (Chapman
& Hall.)

Jan. 1, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

entries it would seem ttat no small part of
Dickens's life was occupiecl in receiving
generous gifts from the Chapman counting-
house :

"G. Lovejoy hears from CharUs Tilt that
Dickens's Pickwick was not at first popular.
The work had been offered to various publishers,
and Chapman & Hall were not over plensed
with their bargain. Tilt sold 1,200 of No. (5,
and the publishers sent to Dickens a cheque for
£30 over and above the £8 per sheet agreed on ;
he acknowledged it. For No. 7 they sent him
an extra cheque for £60, which he did not
acknowledge. For No. 8, a cheque for £100,
which he leturned. They altered the one into
four, and then the author kept it. Altogether
he received for Pickwick £1,200 more than was
stipidated for."

"Walter White, the chronicler of this gossip,
was largely a self-educated man, who after
beginning life as a cabinet-maker attained to
what it is customary to consider the infinitely
finer position of assistant secretary of the
Royal Society, and confidant of the late
Lord Tennyson. Walter White was born,
in 1 8 11 , at Reading, and began early to have
literary ambitions and devote the nights
to study. Married in 1830, he emigrated
with his family to New York in 1834,
varied cabinet - making with lecturing,
teaching, and wi'iting prose and poetry,
returned to Reading in 1839, gave up
cabinet-making about 1843, and became
sub-librarian at the Royal Society, then at
Somerset House, in 1844. In 1861 he became
assistant secretary to the Royal Society, with
a residence at Burlington House, a post
which he held till 1885, when he retired.
He died in 1893. Throughout his life he
regidarly kept a journal, selections from
whicli have now been arranged by his
brother and published in the compact volume
wliich lias beg^Ued an hour fairly interest-
ingly. Their author was no Boswell ; but
he knew several of the men whom one
always is glad to read about. It is probably
to the circumstance that he was on pecidiarly
friendly terms with Tennyson that we owe
the book at all. Just now, one suspects, no
publisher woidd dare to refuse any MS.
which contained that august name.

The most circumstantial entry in the
whole diary is an accoimt of a conversation
between Carlyle and Charles Kingsley at
Chelsea in March, 1860. At one period
the talk ran thus :

Kingsley : ' How long IwUl this jsckassery,
this flood of books written by people who have
nothing to say, continue ? Look at Dickens,
a mau who might have been a Defoe if he
would but have restrained his pen, who has
degenerated even since Nicklehy, whose Christ-
mas stories are gloomy and depressing.'

' What is the reason ? ' I asked.

' Ignorance ! He is one of the most ignorant
of modem writers.'

Carlyle : ' I find the humour of his Pick-
wick very melancholy. As for Defoe, he would
have been a greater man, but he was such an
incontinent fellow — always write, write, write
on some petty city matters. But he had
wonderful power of imagination, makingyou feel
that he had seen everything he described.' . . .

Then sermons were talked of, and the
strictures on books aj^plied to them. ' I hate
the sound of my own voice,' said K., ' especially
if I have to speak beyond a quarter of an hour.
'Tis a torture to m •,'

'Then I: "Then every Sunday is to you
a martyrdom ?"'

'It is ; and judge of my feelings when I am
obliged to listen to somebody else's sermon for
thirty- five minutes. Think of 15,000 clergy-
men having to stand up Sunday after Sunday
with nothing to say. Ah I the Reformation
has much to answer for.' Turning to C. :
' You and your Puritans have much to answer
for. Those men first started the notion that
the way to heaven was by infinite jaw ; and
see what infinite jaw has brought us to.'

' Ay,' said C. ' 'Tis wonderful how men will
go on talking with nothing to say.' "

There is nothing very new here, nothing
surprising ; but it is impossible to turn aside
from a book which reports such conversa-
tions. Human nature is otherwise con-
structed. Elsewhere Carlyle calls GilfiUan
a "brute," a "wild ass's colt"; and
Kingsley tells how he flung Dickens's
C/iild's Ilutori/ of England into the fire.
Carlyle also says, when asked to take part
in the movement for opening museums on
Sunday, that " he would be sorry to give
the old religion its last kick." Since then
the kick has been administered, but the old
religion still perseveres. Finally, let me
quote one of the references to Tennyson.
The date is October 16, 1852 :

"Tennyson came to the library to-day.
After a time he said, ' I must have a pipe.
Mr. Wild replied that he should either go and
smoke up the chimney in the back library or
on the rocf. He chose the latter, and I went
to show him how to thrust hi< huge lengih
through the window. In a quarter of an hour
he came down greatly refreshed. During a
conversation on French affairs on the day of
the christening of his chUd, he broke in with
his deep sonorous voice, ' By the holy living
God, France is in a loathsome state.' "

BRIEFER' MENTION.

Life and Letters of William John Butler.
(Macmillan & Co.)

THE late Dean of Lincoln belonged to the
first flight of the High Church Move-
ment. The friend of Pusey and the saintly
Keble, he looked with some distrust upon the
Ritualistic vagaries of their more feather-
headed successors. As a parish priest at
Wantage, he did good work in civilising a
somewhat lawless community; and he was
one of the first to institute or revive Sister-
hoods in the Anglican Church. His task
was not lightened by the tendency of the
Sisters to become converts to Roman
Catholicism ; but at the time of the founder's
death tlie community of St. Mary of Want-
age numbered thirty-four branches occupied
in various works of piety and charity
throughout England and India. In 1870
occurred a curious episode in Butler's life.
He was taking a holiday on the Continent
when the Franco-Prussian war broke out.
He volunteered at once for Rod Cross work,
and for a considerable period this some-
what autocratic organiser served patiently as
storekeeper in a military hospital. His
letters describing this curious experience are,

perhaps, the most interesting part of the
book ; but as a whole it leaves a pleasant
impression of an honest, hard-working, and,
within his limits, a reasonable man. He
had a great influence over his curates, the
most remarkable of whom was the late
Canon Liddon.

Our Churches, and Why we Belong to Them.
By Canon Knox Little and Others.
(Service & Paton.)

A COLLECTION of essays by two dignitaries of
the Church of England and nine represen-
tatives of the principal bodies of Protestant
Dissenters. There is no hint in the book
itself of how it came to be written, but all
the essays show internal evidence that their
writers' attention has been especially drawn
to the possibility of corporate re-union.
When the Churches do agree, their unanimity
is wonderful ; and there is hardly a dis-
cordant note in the book, save for the
pronouncements of the two Anglicans.
From these we give a few extracts side by
side.

Canon Knox Little.

The Church of Eng-
land has preserved the
Apostolic Succession,
and therefore has vali-
dity for ht-r sacra-
ments.

The saciament of
continuation ....
which is stated in the
New Testament to be
one of ' ' the first prin-
ciples of the doctrine
of Christ."

Prayers for the dead
and the proi^er and
unexaggerated invo-
cation of saints have
been revived and re-
placed in their due
position.

The Blessed Sacra-
ment and Saciitice (is)
the chief service of the
Church o dained by
our Lord .... When-
ever " the Sacrifice of
our Ransom " is cele-
brated, all hear the
living voice of the
creed of Niceea.

Prebendary Wkbb
Peploe.

Evangelicals may
doubt the reality or
power of what is now
called " Apostolical
Succession."

The Church of Eng-
land knows nothing
whatever of more than
two Sacraments ....
Baptism and the Sup-
per of the Lord.

The Church of Eng-
land has given proof
that invocation of
saints and prayers for
the dead are not ac-
cording to the mind of
the Lord.

For a man to profess
to offer a " Sacrifice of
our Ransom" or a
propitiatory offering
in any sense for the
sins of his fellow-men
is at once to place
himself in opposition
to the teaching of the
Church of England.

May not those Dissenters who are invited to
unite with the Church of England reasonably
ask which set of doctrines it is that they are
asked to accept ?

The Nursery Rhyme-Booh. By Andrew
Lang. (F. Wame & Co.)

Considering that a work similar in scope
and of the same bulk as this book appeared
only two or three years ago, edited by Prof.
Saintsbury and illustrated exceedingly well
by Mr. Gordon Browne, we cannot speak of
Mr. Lang's volume as a long-felt want.
Nowadays, however, it is the fashion in
literature to do the same thing twice ; and
Mr. Lang is so entertaining a compiler
of books for the young that we cannot
complain, whatever the publishers of the
earlier work may do. For the volume

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 1, 1898.

before us Mr. Lang has gone avowedly to
Mr HaUiweU-PhiUips's collection. Having
chosen the rhymes he has prefixed an essay
upon them and added notes. The essay,
which is intended for young readers, but will
not (of course) be road by them, shows the
author in one of his infrequent confidential
moods. Thus :

-To read the eld Nursery Rhymes briugs
b»ck queer lost memories of a man's own child-
hood. One seems to see the loose, « .ppy
picture-books of long ago, with their boldly
coloured pictures The books were t.tt creel
and worn, and my first library consisted of a
wooden box full of these volumes, and 1 can
remember being imprisoned for some crime m
the closet whee the box was, and how my
gaolers found me, happy and impenitent, sitting
on the b..x, with its contents »11 around me,
reading. There was 'Who killed Cock Eobin .
which I knew by heart before I could read
(entirely 'without tears') by picking out the
letters in the familiar words . . . . '

We cannot always quite understand Mr.
Lang's selections. For instance, why print
this —

" There was an old man of Tobago,
Who lived on rice, gruel, and sago,
Till, much to his bliss.
His physician said this — ^

To a leg, sir, of mutton, you may go ' —

and not accompany it with many other and
better nonsense rhymes ? The number of
funny jingles (irrespective of Edward Lear's)
on this model is large, yet Mr. Lang offers
only indifferent ones. But it is a kindly
book, and for grown-ups its pages are filled
with reminiscences. Some of Mr. L. Leslie
Brooke's illustrations could hardly be better,
others are singularly lacking both in fun
and fancy. The Old Woman who Lived
under a Hill is, however, perfect. So is the
Pussy Cat who had been to London to look
at the Queen.

SketcJws of Rural Life. By Francis Lucas.
(MacmiUan & Co.)

SiscE the first edition of this pleasant little
book was published, eight years ago, its
kindly author has died. Mr. Lucas, who
was by profession a partner in an old
Quaker private bank at Hitchin, rhymed
only occasionally; but his rhymes, though
few, were fit, and his philosophy was old-
fashioned and sound. The poems which
give the title to this volume, comprising the
Miller, the Hedger and Ditcher, the Plough-
man, the Shepherd, and kindred others,
have a fresh and simple note and a welcome
homeliness and humour. Our copy con-
cludes -with pages 157, which bears the
words "Tlie End,'" although the index
promises on page 159 another poem with
the attractive title " Imaginary People of
1838 and their Sentiments and Surround-
ings." This is rather a curious error, to
which we call the attention of the publishers.
A formal and an informal portrait of the
late Francis Lucas, the latter much the
better, accompany the volume.

All About Animals. (George Newnes/Ltd.)

Tins book brings the Zoo to our very fire-
side. It consists of some four hundred photo-

oTn-nhn rfinrofliipAil irt fbo ap.n1e of 1 0 inches

by 7 of wild animals, taken instantaneously.
The plates have been printed with the utmost
care, and every picture in the copy before
us is a sharp, clear impression. We have
no hesitation in saying that this is incom-
parably the best book of its kind that has
vet appeared. Here is the justification of
the camera indeed: to enable a homo-keep-
ing reader in a comfortable chair to know
accurately, and in a moment, what manner
of beasts infest the jungles of India and the
forests of South America, the bush ot
Australia and the African deserts ! In the
nursery the book should bo an inexhaustible
treasure : the lions almost growl, and when
we come to the elephants' bath we almost
dodge the spray. The photographs are the
work of M. Garabier Bolton, the Scholastic
Photo Company, Herr Anschutz of Berbn,
and Mr. Stuart of Southampton. Until
colour photography is introduced we cannot
conceive of the camera excelling some of
these plates. A brief and pithy account of
each animal accompanies each picture.

The Blackberries and their Adventures. By
E. W. Kemble. (Kegan Paul & Co.)

Mr. E. W. Kemble, the American artist,
is, hy general consent, incontestably the
best comic delineator of negro life tlmt
has yet appeared. In the volume before
us we have a number of coloured
drawings in his merriest manner depicting
the adventures of a little company of
nigger children. The model of the book
is Mr. Palmer Cox's Brownies, but Mr.
Kemble has taken nothing but tlie ground
plan of that diverting work: the super-
structure and fun are his own. Tlie
Blackberries pass through the usual experi-
ences : they play golf, and swim, and make
fireworks, and ride a steeplechase, and
always contrive a comic mishap. Some of
their facial expressions are a treat for sore
eyes, as the saying is. The accompanying
verses may or may not be good — so faint
is the orange ink in which they are printed
that we cannot read them. Luckily they
are not needed.

be illuminative to some of our readers. The
book is aimed at children, and it certainly
should hit them. The life-stories of animals
are always profoundly entertaining, when
done well (witness the popularity of lilatk
Beautij), and this is done well enough.
It has an un-English roughness and abrupt-
ness, but the interest is sound and per-
sistent. The following extract should give
the nursery a pleasant foretaste :

" Next morning the grocer sent the follow-
ing bill to Mishook'B master : ' Yesterday were
eaten in my shop by your Highness' s cub :

Rou- Co-
bles, pecks.

6 lbs. spiced gingerbreads, at 30

copecks per lb 1 ****

5 lbs. ordinary ginger breads, at

25 copecks per lb 1 25

13. lbs caramel, best quality ... <• 50

The Making of Matthias. By J. S. Fletcher.
(John Lane.)

We cannot conscientiously call this anything
but a dull book. The author's intention is
admirable: to show a boy, rich with the
freedom of the open air, the fields and
woods and secret places of the earth ; rich
with the friendship of the beasts and birds ;
knowing no evil, yet wanting for his per-
fection the elements of human sympathy ;
finding it at last in grief for a dead friend,
and thus being " made." But the treat-
ment is unrelieved, undistinguished. Mr.
Fletcher writes accurately, yet his book is
without movement, without soul. Miss
Lucy Kemp-Welch supplies some charming
illustrations.

Tlie Adventures of a Siberian Cub. Translated
from the Eussian by Leon Golschmann.
(Jarrold & Sons.)
The name of the Russian author is not
given ; but we are led to suppose that the
true English equivalent of the title of the
storv is " The Euined Home," wliich may

Please pay this bill, and please forbid your
Highness's cub to enter my shop ! ' "

There are many excellent pictures of the
cub, by Miss Winifred Austen.

Two Essays upon Matthew Arnold, with Some of
his Letters to the Author. By Arthur
Galton. (Elkin Mathews.)

Natorally one first goes to the letters in
this volume. The series begins with one in
which Mr. Arnold gave his correspondent
the wholesome advice that " exercise in
verse cannot but be valuable to you if you
set yourself to be distinct." In the closing
epistle Mr. Arnold remarks that "Macaiilay
can hardly be of use to any mortal soul who
takes our times and its needs seriously.'
The letters between deal with nothing more
important to the general reader than pet-
dogs and lumbago, the fortunes of the Ilnbby
Horse, and how the great critic had an
"aching back" at Hastings and had httle
inclination for his American tours. They
also show that he tried in vain to induce Mr.
Galton to make a certain dedication less
flattering. Had he seen these essays it
is possible that he would have felt still
more uncomfortable under their excessive
laudation.

Mary Powell and Deborah's Diary. Edited
by W. H. Hutton. (Nimmo.)

The two romances which Miss Manning
wove around the domestic life of Milton do
not deserve to full into total oblivion. A
trifle sentimental, they are done with real
knowledge and with sympathy alike for the
poet and for the household to whom ho must
have been something of a trial. Mr. W. H-
Hutton contributes a preface, in which he
recalls memories of the authoress, old-
fashioned and satirical, "a tall, thin lady
with black hair, an aquiline nose, and a
bright colour," and the reprint is adorned
with some dainty drawings by Mr. Herbert
Railton and Mr. John Jellicoe.

C'arlyle on Barns. By John Muir. (Hodge

& Co.).
First came Burns, writing his best. Then
came Carlyle, with a warm eulogy. Now
comes Mr" Muir with opinions on both.
Meanwhile Burns's poems await readers.

Ja>-. 1, 1898."]

THE ACADEMY.

SATURDAY, JANUARY i, 1898

No. /339, New Series.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

THE late Alphonse Daudet left behind
him a considerable body of unpub-
lished and incomplete work, including short
stories, reminiscences, a novel entitled
Quime Ans do 3Iariage, and the bulk of
a work of a personal nature, called 3Ia
Douleur, the account of his own sufferings
under ill-health, and those of other writers
similarly afflicted. M. Leon Daudet will
act as his father's biographer — at least, as
his father's first biograjjher. It is not
likely that only one memoir will be pub-
lished.

Mr. Balfour's plea for poor novelists
confronted by a world whose fictional
possibilities they have exhausted, upon
which we remarked last week, has drawn
forth much criticism. Probably Mr. Balfour
intended that it should, just as a clever
debater will sometimes change sides in
order that the discussion may be more
spirited.

The best comment upon the speech that
we have yet seen is made in a letter to the
Scotsman from a writer whose work is now
too seldom seen— Mr. William Black. He
Bays :

"At this pacific season of the year, would
you allow a perfectly obscure person to endea-
vour to calm the perturbed spirit of Mr. A. J.
Balfour ? He appears to be agitated about the
probable future of the novel. At Edinburgh
I the other day he spoke of ' the obvious difficulty
which novelists now find in getting hold of
appropriate subjects for their art to deal with.'
And again he said, with doubtful grammar,
'Where, gentleman, is the novelist to find a
new vein V Every country has been ransacked
to obtain theatres on which their imaginary
characters are to show themselves off,' and so
forth. Mr. Balfour may reassure himself. So
long as the world holds two men and a maid,

or two maids and a man, the novelist has
abundance of material, and there is no need to
search for a ' theatre ' while we have around us
the imperishable theatre of sea and the sky
and the hills. If Mr. Balfour cannot master
these simple and elementary propositions, then
it would be well for him to remain altogether
outside the domain of literature, and to busy
himself (when not engaged in party politics)
with some more recondite subject — say bi-
metallism."

Another critic of the novel has been
laying about him with some vigour — M.
Ezewusik, a Pole. We cannot agree with
much that he says, but the opinions of an
outspoken intelligent foreigner are always
interesting. M. Ezewusik begins by
exempting Dickens and Thackeray, George
Eliot, Lord Lytton, and Mr. Meredith from
his strictures: they, he says, are, by tne
intensity of their style, their psychological
analysis, the elevation of their feelings and
the grandeur of their philosophical con-
ceptions, the rivals of the great Slav,
German, and French novelists ; although
even in their best work there is always
something of insincerity and a tendency to
metajihysics (Dickens metaphysical !). In
structural skill, however, they are the in-
feriors of even second-rate Frenchmen.

As for the second-rate English novelists,
men and women, M. Ezewusik thinks them
terrible. Their work reveals bottomless
depths of silliness, chatter, stupid admira-
tion, mawkish sentimentality, and harsh,
preachy cant. The women are the worse
offenders : to let lodgings and write a novel
is within the power (so M. Ezewusik says)
of any Englishwoman. Still he finds some
Englishwomen of the second rank who
can please him : Miss Ehoda Broughton,
Ouida, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Char-
lotte Bronte !

In the January Blackwood the late Mrs.
Oliphant's office of " Looker On " will be
found to bo occupied by another. A fit
successor of the wise and shrewd observer
whose pen is now still for ever must have
unusual gifts.

The first number of Saint George, the
quarterly journal of the Euskin Society of
Birmingham — the Society of the Eose —
reaches us. The editor is Mr. John Howard
Whitehouso. The reports of three lectures
delivered before tho Euskin Society of Bir-
mingham form the bulk of the number,
which is well printed and well presented.
A portrait of the Master serves for frontis-
piece.

Saint George also contains the following
extract from a letter from Mr. W. G. Colling-
wood : "I am glad to say that Mr. Euskin's
health is much as it has been during these
later years. He still takes his daily walks,
sees his personal friends, and spends much
time in reading. But it does not seem to
be understood by the public that his com-
parative health depends upon his being kept
from all unnecessary work. He directs his
own business, but is obliged to decline
correspondence, and cannot reply to the

many letters which still come asking for his
intervention in public matters, or for private
advice and assistance." Mr. Euskin, we
might add, will be seventy-nine in February.

The first number of The Ethical World,
a twopenny weekly journal whose scope is
explained by its tide, is also before us. It
seems soundly done. Among the articles in
the current issue are a dissertation on a
passage in Newman's writings, by Mr.
Leslie Stephens, and an account of the
social outlook in America, by Mr. Charles
ZuebUn.

From Mr. Conan Doyle poems come but
seldom, but when he does turn to verse he
hits the mark. His song of the English
bow in Micah Clarice is a stirring ballad,
and he wrote nobly of the Fourdrogant
when it was proposed to sell her some few
years ago. But in the main he adheres to
prose. We are, therefore, the more glad to
find his spirited ballad of "Cremona" in
the January Cornhill.

" Cremona " tells the story of the capture
of that city by the Imperial army under
Prince Eugene in 1 702, and its recovery by
the Irish regiments of Dillon and Burke,
who were assisting the French army under
Marshal Villeroy. Here are some stanzas :

"Prince Eugene of Austria is in the market-
place;
Prince Eugene of Austria has smiles upon his
face;
Says he, ' Our work is done.
For the Citadel is won,
And the black and yellow flag flies o'er
Cremona.'

Major Dan O'Mahony is in the barrack

square.
And just six hundred Irish boys are waiting
for him there ;
Says he, ' Come in your shirt.
And you won't take any hurt.
For the morning air is pleasant in Cremona.'

Major Dan O'Mahony is at the barrack gate,
And just six hundred Irish boys will neither
stay nor wait ;
There's Dillon and there's Burke,
And there'U be some bloody work
Ere the Kaiserlics shall boast they hold
Cremona.

Major Dan O'Mahony has reached the river

fort.
And just six hundred Irish boys are joining
in the sport ;
' Come, take a hand I ' says he,
' And if you will stand by me,
Then it's glory to tho man who takes
Cremona I' "

At last the Irishmen succeeded in boating
back the besiegers. The ballad ends :

" There's just two hundred Irish boys are
shouting on the wall ;
There's just four hundred lying who can
hear no slogan call ;
But what's the odds of that,
For it's all the same to Pat,
If he pays his debt in Dublin or Cremona.

Says General de Vaudray, ' You've done a

soldier's work I
And every tongue in France shall talk of
Dilion and of Burke I
Is there anything at all,
Which I, the General,
Can do for you, the heroes of Cremona ? '

THE ACADEMY.

[Sas. 1, 1898

'One

' Why, yes,' says Dan O'Mahony.

favour we entreat.
We were called a little early, and our toilet's
not complete.
We've no quarrel with the shirt,
But the breeches wouldn't hurt.
For the evening air is chilly in Cremona.' "

The Pall Mall Gazette reviews Miss L.
Alma Tadema's volume of poetry, Jiealms
of Utikown Kingg, as if it were the work of
the artist, her father: "If Mr. Alma
Tadema," it says, "will devote himself to
his art, look closely for subjects, rid himseK
of the affectation that love, to be interesting,
ought to be imlawful, and elaborate his
Ivrics, he ought to make a name." But
when names are thus confused, the
temptations to make one cannot be very
alluring.

The Critic prints the following letter
from Mark Twain, in Vienna, concerning
certain false rumours which have been
recently circulating: "It has been re-
ported that I was seriously ill — it
was another man; dying — it was another
man ; dead — the other man again. It has
been reported that I have received a legacy —
it was another man ; that I am out of debt-
it was another man; and now comes this
82,000 dols. — still another man. It has
been reported that I am writing books — for
publication ; I am not doing anything of the
kind. It wouli surprise and gratify me if I
should be able to get another book ready
for the press within the next three years.
You can see yourself that there isn't any-
thing else to be reported — invention is
exhausted. ... As far as I can see,
nothing remains to be reported except that
I have become a foreigner. When you
hear it, don't you believe it, and don't take
the trouble to deny it. Merely raise the
American flag on our house in Hartford
and let it talk."

the shape of a facsimile of the original MS.
According to the " Editor's Note " (though
surely a facsimile of an original MS. is in no
need of an editor) the book is published to
give every reader the opportimity " to
watch for himself, or herself, the master-
mind at work ; to see how the story grew
under his hand ; to trace his very moods, in
the coiTections and alterations raade^ as the
work progressed." Unfortunately, Dickens's
writing at best was not too distinct, and the
corrections and interlineations render it here
quite illegible, except to a reader with a
microscope and an infinite patience. But
it is certainly extremely interesting to see
such a story in the making.

The humour of the authors of The Bad
Child's Booh of Beasts, and its sequel, which
seems to us of a quite desirable quality,
is not to all tastes. Among the eulogists
of these gentlemen the Spectator holds,
perhaps, the foremost place ; yet see how
an American reviewer can write : ". . . Its
pictures are of the order of caricature, But
they are not of a pleasing type of cari-
cature, and the inequality of level between
them and the ' verses ' is marked. Such
a book can have no refining influence on
minds of any age, and it must be a very
crude kind of taste that can find anything
in it to enjoy. The production of such
books is a waste of pens, ink, and paper."
One man's meat is truly another man's
poison.

Some time ago an article appeared in one
of the American magazines in praise of an
" artist of the monostich " : in other words,
a poet or phrase-maker who confined his
productive powers to single lines. His
capacity for epithet was sometimes striking,
but it seemed to some of his readers that his
task had only begun. Now, in the Critic,
we find the same, or another, artist of the
monostich again at work. Here are some
specimens :

"A Pearl

Up from the deep sea's darkness stole a drop

of light.

An Albatross

It climbed the horizon with slow stroke of wing.

Mist

God's breath upon the mirror of the sea.

Twilight

Gray with the vestige of forgotten light."

A monostich in time, it may be presumed,

eaves nine ; but we confess to preferring

longer poems of more sustained interest.

Few Christmases go by without seeing
tlie publication of a now edition of Cliarles
Dickens's Christmas Carol. This year the
work has come from the house of Cassell in

A prospectus of the Art Journal for 1898
reaches us, decorated with a very modem
design in colours. Among the special
supplements for the year wUl be reproduc-
tions after Mr. Clausen, Mr. Swan, Mr.
Peter Graham, Mr. Orchardson, and the
late Sir John Millais and Albert Moore.
Mr. B. W. Leader will paint the landscape
from which the " premium plate " is to be
etched. A series of articles on famous
private picture galleries will run through
the volume.

Me. Oscar Browning has been engaged
for some time past in writing a life of Peter
the Great, which Messrs. Hutchinson & Co.
inform us they wiU publish about the same
time that Sir Henry Irving's play of the
same name is jiroduced at tlie Lyceum.
Wo do not know whether Sir Henry Irving
or Mr. Browning is more to be congratulated
on this happy coincidence.

directed against my little book, or even the
grudging allowances made for it, cannot be
imagined. If to praise moderately, as Vau-
venargues said, is a sign of mediocrity, then
(with some fine exceptions) are my critics a
most mediocre lot. ... I know T shoidd
be crushed, but there is something in me that
won't be crushed, won't even take my critics
seriously. You will see that their verdicts will
not be final. There is only one thing in which
I must acknowledge them cunningly clever —
when they dubbed The Beth Book dull. It ig
not dull, and that they knew, but in order to
injure the book they deliberately and dishonestly
set themselves to mislead the xiublic."
We are not concerned to return to The Beth
Book and its merits ; but it may be pointed
out that to some one every author is dull,
even Lewis Carroll and Thomas a Kempis.

Owing to an inadvertence, Mr. A. H.
Norway's new book, Highways and Byways
in Bevon and Cornwall, was reviewed last
week under the title, Bt the West Country.
There is very good reason why Mr. Norway's
volume should not bear such a name, for it
already belongs to a pleasant collection of
papers on Devon, Somerset, and Cornwall
by Mr. Prancis H. Knight.

Madame Sarah Grand has given an
interviewer of the Weekly Sun her opinions
on The Beth Book and its critics. She said,
among other things :

"Anything more unlike what I should have
understool was criticism than the diatribes

Vittoria has just been added to the new
cheap edition (if six shillings per volume
can rightly be called cheap in the time of
sixpenny Shakespeares) of Mr. Meredith's
novels. We observe the phrase, " Copy-
right, 1897, by George Meredith," facing
the contents. This has reference, we pre-
sume, to the revised text, and means that
Messrs. Constable's edition of Vittoria is
safe from the enterprise of rival firms for
the next forty-two years, whereas the first
form of the novel, which was published in
1866, wUl be accessible a considerable
period earlier.

In its new shape Vittoria has a frontispiece
in photogravure representing La Scala, the
opera-house at Milan.

In the current number of the Artist we
find an enthusiastic, but weU-merited,
eulogy of the work of Mr. William Hyde.
This artist is as yet little known, except
among the few, but certainly there are living
few closer students, and no finer exponent,
of the play of light and shade upon the face
of nature. Mr. Hyde's usual medium is
monochrome, which he uses with such
mastery as to produce almost the effect
of colour. The examples of his work wliich
illustrate this article are all scenes of repose;
yet to our mind it is when a landscape is in
the grip of a storm or frowned upon by an
angry sky that Mr. Hyde is at his greatest.
Two of the pictures are chosen from a book
on London, which Messrs. Constable will
shortly publish.

The Essex Review is one of the best of
the county antiquarian magazines, but
like many quarterly publications it has
sinned against punctuality. It is resolved,
we learn, to sin no more in this particular ;
and it aspires to positive improvements.
From the beginning of the year Miss C. Fell
Smith wiU be mainly responsible for the
magazine.

We are informed that Mr. Farrar Fenton
who recently issued a translation of the
New Testament in " current English," is
about to issue the Old Testament on the
same lines. The first section will include
the Book of Job, and will be published
immediately by Mr. Elliot Stock. We
trust that " current English " does not
mean slang.

Jan. 1, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED.

II.— WALTER PATEE.

In and about the year 1870 a great change
■became apparent in the spirit of English
literature. The g^oup of vigorous writers
wlio had made letters subservient to
uKirality, and who believed in " the man
and his message," had begun to break up.
Carlyle, who had wielded a long sway over
('\ ery kind of intellect — the imaginative, the
liistoric, even the scientific — was feeling the
elfects of years, and though, even in decay
ii rugged giant, his power was no longer
what it had been. AH along the line the
movement was being carried on with feebler
hands. Whatever was weak or imperfect
in art with a purpose became glaringly
apparent in the work of those secondary
writers to whom the elders handed on the
t(irch. Brilliant young men no longer
fciund it natural to adliere to Lord Tenny-
son's theory of literature ; and very soon it
became apparent that the centre of influence
was shifting, and that for a time at least an
opposite doctrine was to prevail. The re-
bellion— if one may be pemiitted to apply
that word to a perfectly natural and,
within limits, wholesome movement — was
not carried out by any single leader.
It sprang up simultaneously in a
number of minds, not, indeed, of the very
highest rank, but of fine and genuine
capacity. In verse its clearest exponent was
William Morris, who, in lines as bold as
they were sweet and tuneful, announced
that a bard had come who assumed to be
neither prophet nor messenger. " Dreamer
of dreams " sang the latter-day poet:

" Dreamer of di-eams born out of my due

time
Why should I strive tj set the crooked

straight ?
Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme
Beats with light wing against the ivory

gate."

But though he so beautifully found words

for tlie creed, it was another who was

to be the dominant influence. Atalanta

in Calydon had appeared before the

Earthly I'aradiso, and for twenty years

to come its author was to be the most

8edulou,sly imitated of poets; and the

imitators taking their cue from him and

Morris ostentatiously ignored "themessage."

I I am not concerned to discuss whether they

I were right or wrong; indeed, I do not

believe tliere is any abstract right or wrong

j in the matter. Art wiU boar no heavier

; moral than is carried by life itself, and if

the poet be true to life it is impossible

1 for him to be false to its morals. The

I justification of a theory lies wholly in its

; fruit, and it may here be pointed out that

; the consciousness of a great aim in life itself,

\ tlie belief that "eyes do regard you from

' eternity's stUlness," the feeling that there is

I and must be some great and solemn object

i in existence has a bracing and ennobling

I eifect upon letters. The wave of a great

: moral movement gave us Paradise Lost;

its reaction only the drama of the Restora-
tion. A somewhat similar wave produced
In Memoriam, The French Revolution, und Adam
Bede ; its reaction has flowered into no
achievement of the highest class, and is
ending in something like paralysis.

Be that as it may — and I throw it out
only as a suggested explanation — the late
Mr. Pater, just about the time when
Atalanta and The Earthly Paradise appeared,
began to wield in prose an influence equal
to that which Mr. Swinburne wielded in
verse. It ran in channels, however, that
were partially concealed. He was pre-
eminently a writer's writer, and his power
is not, as Carlyle's was, open, conspicuous,
and commanding; it has been most deeply
felt by the choice minds of his age, and
has been filtered through them to the wider
public. There is scarcely an aspect in
which he does not differ from the great
moralist. Not even Goethe could make
Carlyle understand what Kunst was —
" Carlyle knows nothing of art," said
Tennyson — he used letters purely as the
vehicle through which he delivered his
exhortations to the age. To Pater litera-
ture was something very different. It was
" a refuge, a sort of cloistral refuge, from
a certain vulgarity in the actual world."
He was the first great Englishman to preach
the gospel of art for art's sake. He judged
life not by its effect on the race or the
future, but by the sensations it experienced
by " the pleasure of the ideal present, the
mystic now."

The "creed looks foolish enough as pre-
sented by those who may be called deri-
vatives from Pater ; his own mind was too
clear and strong to be content with its
weaker aspect. All roads lead to Rome,
and it is strange to note that the most
diverse intellects, provided they be honest
and capable, arrive finally at very nearly
the same conclusions. He worked out his
thoughts into a creed as large and austere
as that of Carlyle himself. " Not pleasure,
but fulness of life and insight as conducting
to that pleasure — energy, choice, and variety
of experience, including noble pain and
sorrow" — so does he make his Marius
think. Pain and sorrow are noble only
when they are nobly bom, and with this
explanation the creed embodies all that
makes for submission and conciliation, for
adjustment to conditions.

Nor has any moralist laid down a sterner
and more uncomxiromising law than this :

"Truth: there can be no merit, no craft at
all without that. And, further, all beauty
is, in the long run, only finenes of truth, or
what we call expression, the liner accommoda-
tion of speech to the vision within."

Mr. Pater does not himself appear to
have been of a combative or aggressive
disposition ; but some of the more ardent
spirits, wlio caught up the cry of art for
art's sake without troubling about its deeper
meaning, at once began to use it as a
battering-ram on the gi'eat reputations of
their time. Lord Tennyson's biographer
tells us that he saw in this a beginning
of decay. His words are worth quoting.
After giving the poet's impromptu made in
1869, after reading an attack on the Idylh,

HaU, truest lord of

" Art for art's sake !
hell! " he goes on:

" These lines in a measure expressed his
strong and sorrowful conviction that the
English were beginning to forget what was, in
Voltaire's words, the glory of English Uterature
• — ■' No nation has treated in poetry moral ideas
with more energy and depth than the English
nation.' "

That was thirty years ago, and the young
warriors who then rushed eagerly to the
fray are grizzled veterans now, and it is
their turn to be haled before the judgment-
seat and asked, not What theory did you
hold ? but What work have you done ? To
some extent they have leavened English
letters, and the young poet and the yoting
novelist have been turned aside from " the
purpose," but the condemnation of the
movement from a purely literary and artistic
point of view is that it has failed to produce
any book of the first importance. Let us
see why this has been so in Mr. Pater's
case.

In one sense Mr. Pater was a brilliantly
successful writer. He has done many
things so well that one cannot imagine how
they could have been done better. But he
did not know where his own strength lay.
His patient hunt for what he called " the
exact word " was in his case, as in that of
Flaubert, doomed to futility. For a writer
never can convey any but a simple thought
fully and lucidly from his own mind to that
of another. The meaning he attaches to
words is coloured not only by his learning
and knowledge, but by his previous medita-
tion and experience. And his phrases fall
on minds, each of which has a separate and
different body of experience, which contracts
or expands, modifies or distorts, their
significance. One need not go further for
examples than to certain shibboleths
of his school. The very word art, so
vilely hacked and vulgarised during the
past qviarter of a century, is applied by
nearly every writer to his or her own work.
Sir Walter Scott very justly called himself
an artist, so did George Eliot, so do a score
of fourth-rate scribblers. In each case it
conveys a meaning coloured by personality ;
it cannot be absolutely defined ; it cannot,
therefore, be employed with such exactitude
as to convey a meaning fidly and lucidly
from one mind to another. Distinction, again,
is a term which has the same ambiguity.
It is constantly employed by critics to indicate
a quality of phrase ; with Pater it describes
an attitude of mind. Tlie writer is truly
distinguished who looks at life independently
with his own eyes ; it is but a bastard dis-
tinction that springs fi'om preciosity of
phrase. Fuller and larger illustration of the
imjiossibility of conveying thought exactly
from one mind to another may be found in
the history of any creed. The Gospel of Clirist
is set forth in clear and simple words, yet if
we consider the number of creeds and
sects, the divisions, arguments, and even
battles to which its interpretation has given
rise, how obvious nuist it be that the
word had one meaning in the mind of him
who uttered them ; another in the case of
those who heard. Nay, take Mr. Pater's
own teaching and compare it with that of
his derivatives, and it will be seen how

THE ACADEMY.

|_Jan. 1, 18«8.

distorted it has become in passing from the
master to his scholars. That he knew this
himself is evident from his fear that the
well-known " conclusion " of his Renaistance
studies should be misapprehended, as it
undoubtedly has been.

But the great weakness of Mr. Pater and
his school lies in a too great exaltation of
art. He did not, indeed, as some of his
followers have done, go the length of
asserting that art transcended life, but art
was his chiefest interest. His books are all
those of a bookman. In no case that I
know of did he take his materials direct
from nature. His creative works, Marius
and Gaston de Latour, are but attempts to
show the development of a personality in
times to which he was a stranger, and they
could be reconstructed only through records
and chronicles. The work is done marvel-
lously well, but within limits that fix narrow
boundaries to his sympathies. An imagina-
tion that had been fed not only by books,
but by the living stream of life, could not
have been satisfied with such a picture. It
would have demanded not only the flower
of the time in a refined Marius or a
Gaston, but would have used a hundred
vigorous forms from the wild, rugged sur-
roimdings to complete the picture, and to
throw those exquisite portraitures into con-
trast. He does, indeed, talk of life for
life's sake, but it does not work out in his
conceptions. There is a passage in Marim
typical of so much that it deserves quotation
— it describes the hero's feelings after the
death of his friend Flavian (the italics
are mine) :

" The sun shone out ou the people going to
work for a long hot day, and Marius was
standing by the dead, watching ivith the
(klibeiafe purpose of fixing in his memory every
detaU, that he might have that picture in reserve,
should any day of forgetfulness ever hereafter
come to him with the temptation to feel com-
pletely happy again."

In other words, he was not living whoUy
in " the mystic now" but saving up his
grief for future use. The man who lives
his life fully, and drinks the cup, be it of
joy or sorrow, to the lees, mourns or rejoices
without any " deliberate purpose." Indeed,
the moment emotion begins to bo fondled
and thought about it loses its direct natural
character. One sees this more clearly
by considering what a real single-hearted
zest for life a great artist such as Scott had.
To him, novel-writing was not even a very
noble or grand way of earning a livelihood,
and no one can imagine him treasuring his
sensations, calculating his grief, measuring
his joy, either as indicating the richness of
life or to serve as stuff out of which to weave
art. Far less can it be supposed that Henry
Fielding, when going out to dine in his
coach attended by his yellow-liveried
servant, had a deliberate intention to lay by
experience out of which to fabricate Gquire
Western. Not a bit of it. He and Shake-
speare, and all the rest of the great artists,
bved their lives without any arrih-e pensh
about art, and all unconsciously gathered the
experience from which their creations were
ultimately fashioned. To be conscious of
artistic intentions is enough of itself to take
some of the fine flavour from life. In Pater,

too, it led to over-book ishness and super-
refinement and preciosity, so that his books,
and still more those of his followers, tend to
lose touch with the actual.

But it is the limitations of his own
nature and temperament that lie at the
root of the matter. The greatness of
a writer largely depends on the extent of
his sympathies. He is the interpreter of
human nature, and the wider and deeper his
interests the more certain is he to command
attention. A great sunny nature like that
of Scott wins upon us, because it can
project itself into a thousand personalities
and speak through as many different masks.
King, priest, and beggar — he projects him-
self by turns into each. But there are other
writers so rigid and self-centred, so incapable
of changing voice or appearance, that they
seem to speak with set features and in
a monotone. They tap, as it were, only one
vein of interest, and the reader who is not
held by that is not held at all.

Now, Mr. Pater, supreme as he is in the
exercise of a fine gift (of which more anon), is
one of those strictly limited writers. More-
over, he was of a sterling honesty that
scorned to make pretence of what he had
not. Others we know who try to rope in
all sorts of readers by imitating the qualities
they do not possess. They can produce a
sham humour, a sham pathos, a sham
passion, that will pass without question in
the market-place. It is a mark of greatness
in Mr. Pater that he never condescends to
this. He goes on sternly compressed within
his narrow channel, and never dreams of
throwing out a tentacle to those not fully
in sympathy with him. He has no humour,
and not even in writing of Charles Lamb
does he make a pretence of it. With nine-
tenths of the pursuits of mankind he is out
of touch, and appears to be quite content
that it should be so. Cold and austere in
his own temperament, he makes no attemjit
to appeal to the warmth and playfulness of
human nature. The great surging passions
of life never beat in view of the windows of
his cloistral refuge. Indeed, it is somewhat
of a paradox that in his two novels the
apostle of art for art's sake is more of a
teacher and sermoniser than an artist. There
is far more of the gust of human life in
many a novel with a purpose than in these
works. So strangely does performance
often contradict intention.

But in spite of all these drawbacks he is
certainly a great writer, one of the first of
his day. Neither his doctrine uor his
actual work is likely at any time to ap-
peal to the general public, but they are
invaluable to the student and scholar.
I do not refer to the matter — it would carry
us far beyond the bounds of this paper to
touch even superficially on that — but to the
style by which he would presumably choose
to be judged. The greatest quality manifest
in it is that of vivid imagination. Of what
may be called pictorial English it is doubt-
ful if any finer exists in the language.
There are whole pages of Gaston de Latour
where each sentence is like a piece of ex-
quisite carving from purest marble, and
every word is that of a man who has
conjured up the clearest image of what
took i)lace in his fancy. Of his " Cupid

and Psyche " one can only say, as Tonnysoi
said of Fitz-Gerald's Onmr, that it is i
"version done divinely well." And even ii
his less important essays there are bit
which could have been comjwsed by non(
but a man of strong imagination. Wha
could be finer than this from the paper or
Charles Lamb ? —

"Reading, commenting on Shakespeare, h(
is like a man who walks alone under a granc
stormy sky, and among unwonted tricks oi
light, when powprful spirits seem to be abroac
upon the air; and the grim humour of Hogarth
as he analyses it, rises into a kind of spectra
grotesque."

If the historical novelists would only study
Pater's pictorial manner how much more diffi-
cult, but how much more delightful, wouW
their work become ! The plague of it is thai
they cannot reproduce the "quality" of Pater,
while there is nothing easier than to catch
at the hothouse mannerisms and preciosities
that are his flaws. Nor will they amend
their ways while critics bestow the epithet
"distinguished" on those who murder his
style.

THE LONDON OF THE WRITERS.

IV. — ^The New Poetky.

London seems to have inspired the poets in
proportion as she has become herself prosaic.
If you deny that she has become prosaic,
we will converge to this : that London poems
have multiplied with London bricks. London
gives more themes to poets now that she is
vast and smoky and iirban than she did
when milkmaids carried milk to Fleet-street
from the fields, when salmon leajjed imdei
London Bridge, and when strawberries were
jjicked in Holbom. London is written
about to-day in ways which are quite new,
ways which the men of old would not havf
understood. When Wordsworth, standing
on Westminster Bridge on the morning ol
September 3, 1802, breathed his sonnet, h(
foreshadowed this new poetry of London : th(
poetry which should no longer flatter kings
or aldermen, or compete with tinsel on Lord
Mayor's Day, biit should look on London as
on Nature.

" Silent, bare.
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky."

Long enough (and far more so) had Londoi
lain open to the fields and sky; but thi
thing had not been said, or much felt. Ye
the poets have bettered Wordsworth's teach
ing. He could venture to show poor Susai
only an imaginary and pasteboard Spring-
" a mountain ascending, a vision of trees, ' ij
river in Cheapside — whereas to-day fllil
very Spring is exquisitely found in Londool
How exquisitely has Mr. Henley found itl
— but we mean to quote him on anothfil
theme. In so recent a book as Mr. LioiMl
Johnson's Ireland, with Other Poems, we finil
these questions asked — but they have T
answered many times :

" Do London birds forget to sing ?
Do London trees refuse the Spring ?
Is Loiif]on May no pleasant thing ?
Let country fields

Jan. 1, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

To milking maid and shepherd boy-
Give flowers, and song, and bright employ,
Her children also can enjoy
What London yields.

Gleaming with sunlight, each soft lawn

Lies frdgrant beneath dew of dawn ;

The spires and towers rise, far withdrawn,
Through golden mist :

At sunset, linger beside Thames :
I See now, what radiant lights and flames !
I That ruby bums : that purple shames
j The amethyst."

j Poets whom no one will compare with
iWordswortli have gone far beyond him as
jsingers of London's inner, intimate, and
irecondite beauty. The Cheapside plane-
liree and the thrush raised for Wordsworth
ii momentary vision of spring which he trans-
ferred to Susan, but presently —

"They fade
The mist and the river, the hill and the shade ;
irhe stream will not flow, and the hill will not
I rise,

jVnil the colours have all pasi'd a^vay from her
I eyes."

For the poets of to-day the vision does
[lot pass. Theirs is the vision of London's
pwn spring, her own trees. Let us see how
i plane-tree inspired a later poet of little
.ame, but of the newer school of London
[overs :

' Green is the plane-tree in the square.
The other trees are brown ;
They droop and pine for country air ;
The plane-tree loves the town.

Here, from my garret-pane, I mark
The plane-tree bud and blow.

Shed her recuperative bark,
Aud spread her shade below.

Among her branches in and out.

The city breezes play ;
The dun fog wraps her round about ;

Above, the smoke curls gray.

Others the country take for choice.

And hold the town in scorn ;
But she has listened to the voice

On city breezes borne."

n these simple lines by Amy Levy nothing
I imported into the London picture; no
baence is regretted. She sings of a London
lane-tree, green in a London square. The
all of the spring is heard in London as
; never was before. Take an "April
ilidnight" from Mr. Arthur Symons's
\iilhouettcn :

■ Ride by side through the streets at midnight,
; Roaming together,

I Through the incongruous night of London,
j In the miraculous April weather.

I Roaming together under the gaslight,

Day's work over.
How the Spring calls to us, here in the city.
Calls to the heart from the heart of a lover I
Cool the wind blows, fresh in our faces.

Cleansing, entrancing.
After the heat and the fumes and the foot-
lights.
There where you dance, and I watch your
dancing.

Good it is to be here together,

Good to be roaming.
Even in London, even at midnight.

Lover-like in a lover's gloaming.

You the dancer and I the dreamer,

Children together,
Wandering lost in the night of London,

In the miraculous April weather."

Even in vers de mcUU a note of intimacy
is struck that was not struck before. "I
stLU love London in the month of May,"
exclaims Mr. Wilfrid Scawen Blunt in a
careless rhyme :

" I still love London in the month of May,
By an old habit, spite of dust and din.
I love the fair adulterous world, whose way
Is by the pleasant banks of Serpentine.
I love the worshippers at fashion's shrine.
The flowers, the incense, and the pageantry
Of generations which still ask a sign
Of that dear god whose votary am I.
I love the ' greetings in the market-place,'
The jargon of the clubs. I love to view
The ' gilded youth ' who at the window pass,
For ever smiling smiles for ever new.
I love these men and women at theur task
Of hunting pleasure. Hope, mysterious too,
Touches my arm and points, and seems to

ask,
' And you, have you no Juliet in the masque ? " '

Shall we advance with the year? We have
had the April night ; and who will say that
the London summer night is not truly seen
and sung in these lines from Mr. Laurence
Binyon's London Virion* :

" Come let us forth, and wander the rich, the

murmuring night I
The sky, blue dusk of summer trembles above

the street ;
On either side uprising glimmer houses pale :
But me the turbulent bubble and voice of

crowds delight ;
For me the wheels make music, the mingled

cries are sweet ;
Motion and laughter call : we hear, we will

not fail.

For see, in secret vista, with soft, retiring

stars,
With clustered suns, that stare upon the

throng below,
I With pendent dazzling moons, that cast a

noonday white.
The full streets beckon: Come, for toil has

burst his bars,
And idle eyes rejoice, and feet unbasting go.
O let us out and wander the gay and golden

night."

We are not sure that the summer, mid-day
London, dazzling and dangerous in its heat,
has found, or needs, a song. But London's
autumn glory has inspired Mr. Henley.
We wonder what Dr. Johnson would have
thought of Mr. Henley's riotous praise of
the beauty of the Strand and Fleet-street
on an autumn afternoon. Johnson was the
first man of letters who constantly exulted
in being a Londoner. But he loved London
for its size, its concentration of learning,
its freedom from restraint — in a word, for
the social advantages it offered to a man of
spirit and culture. He loved the Strand
and Fleet-street for their taverns, and the
meetings and greetings they offered him.
Was he ever much touched by their beauty ?
Did his eye rest afar on the dome of St.
Paul's, glowing in the five-o'clock sunlight
of October ? Could he have felt with Mr.
Henley ?—

" Lo ! the round sim, half- down the western
slope —
Seen as along an unglazed telescope —
Lingers and lolls, loth to be done with day :
Gifting the long, lean, lanky street
And its abounding confluences of being
With aspects generous and bland ;
Making a thousand harnesses to shine
As with new ore from some enchanted mine,

And every horse's coat so full of sheen

He looks new-tailored, and every 'bus feels

clean.
And never a hansom but is worth the feeing ;
And every jeweller within the pale
Offers a real Arabian Night for sale ;
And even the roar
Of the strong streams of toil that pause and

pour
Eastward and westward sounds suffused —
Seems as it were bemused
And blurred and like the speech
Of lazy seas on a lotus-eating beach —
With this enchanted lustrousness.
This mellow magic, that (as a man's caress
Brings back to some faded face beloved before
A heavenly shadow of the grace it wore
Ere the poor eyes were minded to beseech)
Old things transfigures, and you hail and

bless
Their looks of long-lapsed loveliness once

more.
Tall Clement's, angular and cold and staid,
Glimmers in glamour's very stuffs arrayed ;
And Bride's her aery, unsubstantial charm.
Through flight on flight of springing, soaring

stone
Grown flushed and warm,
Laughs into life high-wooded and fresh-
blown ;
And the high majesty of Paul's
Uplifts a voice of living light, and calls —
Calls to his millions to behold and see
How goodly this his London Town can be ! "

Mr. Henley has written so beautifully about
London that he compels quotation. He
knows its morning cleanness, its evening
pensiveness, and its midnight melancholy.
Here is part of a river reverie by night :
" Under a stagnant sky,
Gloom out of gloom uncoiling into gloom.
The River, jaded and forlorn.
Welters and wanders wearily — wretchedly on
Yet in and out among the ribs
Of the old skeleton bridge, as in the piles
Of some dead lake-built city, full of skulls
Worm-worn, rat-riddled, mouldy with

memories.
Lingers to babble to a broken tune
(Once, O the unvoiced music of my heart !)
So melancholy a soliloquy.
It sounds as it might tell
The secret of the unending grief-in-grain.
The terror of Time and Change and Death,
That wastes this floating transitory world."

It is impossible within the limits of a
sliort article to marshal and illustrate all the
moods in which the beauty and significance
of London are felt by poetical minds to-day.
We wiU conclude by quoting a short poem
from Mr. Laurence Binyon's Lyric Poeim,
in which the consolations of London, the
involuntary pity and encouragement she
bestows, are finely touched :

" As I walked through London
The fresh wound burning in my breast
As I walked through London,
Longing to have forgotten, to harden my

heart, and to rest,
A sudden consolation, a softening light
Touched me : the streets alive and bright.
With hundreds each way thronging, on their

tide
Received me, a drop in the stream, immarke'..,

unknown.
And to my heart I cried :
Here can thy trouble find shelter, thy wound be

eased !
For see, not thou alone.
But thousands, each tvith his smart.
Deep-hidden, perchance, but felt in the core of

the heart !

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 1, 1898.

And as to a sick man's feverish veins

The full sponge warmly pressed,

Relieves with its burning the burning fore-
head and hands,

So I to my aching breast

Gathered the griefs of those thousands, and
made them my own ;

My bitterest pains

Merged in a tender sorrow, assuaged and
appeased.

London, it is safe to say, will take rich
toll of the poets as her enormous life
becomes more magnetic. But we suppose
that the great song of London will be sung
only when she lies in the dust.

PAEIS LETTEE.

A NEW writer, M. Remy Saint Maurice, has
brought a note of freshness into the eternal
theme of French fiction. In his powerful
and delicate story, Temple d' Amour, he
presents the eternal situation (this time com-
posed of five instead of the usual three
persons of the drama) with a charm, a reti-
cence, a pathos, a freedom from vulgarity
and banality, the cynical ferocity of the hour
in modem French fiction has almost made
us forget as graces of a remote and per-
fumed past. Not that he ceases for that to
be intensely modem. The complexity of
the situation, with its moral suffering, its
morbid perturbation, its refinement of pain,
could only be discovered in our own times.
Even half a century ago sin was either more
blithe or more lurid than to-day. The lover
was tortured by the infidelity or the per-
sistent fidelity of his mLstress ; either clung
to her slavishly or left her without regret,
as in either situation there was matter
enough for the story-teller. But Stendhal
and Bourget discovered new realms of pain
and complication, and since then lover and
mistress have entered into more poignant
and more bitter strife with fatality or their
own temperament. The day of the genial
rake is over, and the sinner now has de-
veloped a terrible, an exasperated and
dominating conscience.

M. Saint Maurice's touch is lighter than
Bourget's ; his analysis less searching, less
ponderous and profound. His vision travels
through an atmosphere less dense, and there
is more of the charm and bright suggestive-
ness necessary to make the reading of fiction
the entertainment it ought to be. He is
more of the story-teller and less of the
professional psychologist than is Bourget.
And he has the art of capturing interest
from the start. The exotic flavours of the
Isle of Maurice is an added grace. Walmont,
the dull and insignificant husband of British
origin, is carefully drawn, but tends to the
conventional, whereas his brother James,
the real hero of the book, deformed and
disfigured, is a more original figure. His
jealousy of his beautiful creole sister-in-
law, whom he has always silently adored,
discovers her infidelity to Walmont, and
drives him to the desperate act which ends
the story, the drowning of himself and
Helene off the Breton coast. These summer
scenes of Dinard are delightfully told, and
in fine contrast with the unpremeditated

tragedy of the last page. But the novelty
of the study consists in the attitude of the
lover, Hubert de Olesse, an elegant deputy
with a conscience. It is the sight of
Helene's son, George, a lad of nineteen,
dropped suddenly from his picturesque island
into Parisian society, that fronts him with
remorse and hesitation. The innocent lad in-
stantly attaches himself to the elegant Clesse,
and is so caressing, so living an image of his
mother, that the mother's lover is confounded
with a sense of their double iniquity.
Helene's conscience is less unquiet, perhaps,
because passion holds her in a firmer grip.
The analysis of Clesse's remorse and suffer-
ings is finely shaded, and strikes deep and
true. But the character is somewhat
effaced — ^too modem and complex to be
strong. He vacillates, succumbs, defends
himself regretfully against the encroach-
ments of the Creole's passion ; seeks refuge
now in sentimental dalliance beside a girlish
profile, now in trivial flirtation with a brazen
coquette ; is never sure of himself, never at
ease, is wistful and uncertain in his rejection
of the love he cannot live without, but
always keeps our sympathy through his
sincere and delicate affection for Helene's
son. "As soon as you became my son's
friend," cries Helene bitterly to him in their
last scene, "you shrank from seeing in me
her who loved you. Ah, how different is
the heart of man from that of woman ! "
And he reproaches her with George's like-
ness to herself, which from the first glance
was a mirror wherein he recognised the
pitiless impurity of their relations. The
style is excellent — not so limpid as French
prose can be, not so contorted as it has
become. Here and there a detail too much,
here and there excessive weight upon a
stroke, but a book to welcome cordially.

M. Eene Doumie is the critic of the Rerue
des Deux Mbndes, and wields a frigid, a direct
and honest pen. Of charms he has not a
suspicion, of temperament not a hint. But
he is a safe grinder, tolerably equipped for
his difficult and delicate calling, and possibly
none the worse for being so glacial and
coiTect. His new volume of etudes sur In
LitUrature Frangaise is an interesting collec-
tion of articles that have appeared in the
dull and famous " Eeview," as the members
of that bleak house call it. To add " of the
two worlds " for them is superfluous. There
is but one "Eeview" in the universe, and
it is of " the Two Worlds," possibly indi-
cating this and the next.

M. Doumie is, very properly, an anti-natur-
alist, and as a lieutenant of the uncomprom-
ising M. Briinetiere makes lustily for the
moribund reputation of the illustrious Zola.
It is somewhat late in the day to break a
literary stick on that hard skull, but the
article reads as an adualiU, with all the
students of Paris clamouring for Zola's
blood, not even restraining their indecent
shouts of "Spurn Zola" on leaving the
cemetery on the day of Baudot's funeral.
But as long as the Institute gates may be
thought capable of a hospitable movement
in Zola's regard, in the esteem of the ponti-
fical Brunetiere, it is never too late to say a
disagreeable word of the author of
Rome. Zola's style M. Doumie describes
as " of a rare indigence." " Art," he else-

where acutely remarks, "is absent; that is
why it lacks life."

" It is less style than nearly style, making us
think of thoBe ready-made garments that
nearly fit everybody and fit nobody well, too
tight for the fat, too wide for the lean. . . .
A book of M. Zola's is to literature what the
chromo-lithograph is to painting, masomTr to
architecture, a statue of the Rue St. Suljnce to
the sculptor's marble, the bronze of trade to a
work of art. It is the novel by the yard,
a serial by measure. The introduction of
naturaUsm into the novel is the ruiu of art,
sent flying by industrial fabrication."

The Goncourts he clean sweeps out of the
world of letters, as :

"The petiU-mmtre) of the contemporary
novel, red-heels of naturalism, artists wlio have
left descriptions in mosaic, books lacquered and
varnished with Martin varnish, listeners at
doors, who have passed from historical gossip
to contemporary scandals, mildly maniacal col-
lectors for whom the occupation of wiiting and
hterature also wore but a mania."

Their historical knowledge he qualifies as
that of " a dressmaker, a butler, or a valet."
This is hard on the rivals of Riclielieu,
the foimders of the cracked academy of
Auteuil, but M. Doumie is nothing if not
hard. It saves him from the surprises and
inconsistencies of sympathy.

H. L.

TALES OF OUE GEANDMOTHEES.

Children are not what they used to be.
The remark has been made often enough
concerning real children, but you may see
for yourself that it is true of the children
of literature. Possibly Meleti'ii Babies laid
the foundations of popularity for tlie chilil
who, though not very, very good, is cer-
tainly not horrid. Those babies have had
many younger brothers and sisters who are
far from exemplary ; and even Mr. Kenneth
Grahame's children, children of the age as
they are, indulge in practices of which \v
weU-conducted great-aunt could approve
We have been tauglit by the literature as wel
as by the experience of the present day tha'
cliildren may be naughty and yet nice. 1
was very different in the days when ou'
gi-andfathers were remarking that ou '
grandmothers were monstrous fine women
by gad ; at least, if we may judge from tli'
children's literature that dates from thn
remote epoch. To-day we expect childrei
to be naughty and to grow up good. Ii
those days, it would ajipear, childre
were expected to be blameless. So \i
gather from a collection of books whu
were put into the hands of such as cliani
to be children in the early jjart of tJi:
century. Take, for example, a boo
picked from the twopenny box. Sketches
Young People ; or, A Visit to Brighton, wli
bears the imprint of Harvey and Dartui
and the date 1822. This particular coj
was given, as an inscription in an Itali
hand teU us, to " Jessie, the gift of tl
Granma," and the date of the gift is tl
date of publication, which shows that Grann.
was abreast of her time. * I

Jan. 1, 1898.]

TKE ACADEMY.

" Charles and Caroline Hamilton were one
ourteen and the other twelve when they met

0 congratulate each other on the birth of a
ister who had just made her appearance in
he world."

So begins chapter one. Charles and Caro-
ine are two very good children, though
Caroline has one faidt : she suspects that
ler father prefers boys to girls. But the
ippearance of Mr. Hamilton disposes of
his error, and corrects this fault. He
explains to Caroline that " boys require
lifierent treatment from girls." For, he
ontinues,

' a modest reserve is most becoming in females ;
nd it would be doing you equal injustice to
■ring you forward in all companies, as it would
e to keep your brother back, while I see that
e acts with propriety."

!aroline, aged twelve, is not quite convinced.
You are proud of my brother, papa," she
jiid, "but in me you see nothing to value."
jlr. Hamilton had his answer ready :

1 " Home is the sphere of females," he said to
I twelve-year old Caroline, "and their male
;?latious feel and confess their value when they
pknowledge their happiest hours are spent in
leir society. Though we may wander abroad
I search of pleasure or of profit, happiness is
mod with the least alloy by our own fireside,
here the kind attention of our female relatives
rill lessen our cares, and make us forget the
jiugh asperities of human life."

Oh! my dear father," exclaimed Caroline,
ichanted with the picture he had drawn,
may I liope to deserve such a character ? "
She did deserve it. For from page 5 she
aver gives her father a moment's uneasi-
388, and there are 180 pages in the book,
he father, by the way, was a City merchant,
ho spent his days in his counting-house,
ut in the evening, when his tea was
moved, "tlie happy fatlier resigned him-
ilf to the luxury of ease and parlour
,'mforts, which can only be enjoyed among
.fectionate relations, where each finds
easure in the same employment." He is
)t, as he confesses, a scholar; but books
e one of his parlour comforts — " some-
'ing light and cheerful." As he well says :
jLearned men may laugh at my presump-
pn; but I think I have taste and judg-
lent to admire their beauties, although my
loming has been spent in calculating the
vice of sugar and other staple commodities."
Well, three years pass away, during
I'iich Mr. Hamilton enjoys parlour comforts
|:d calculates the price of staple commodi-
]is ; and then the health of Mrs. Hamilton
(msports her and Caroline, with Mr.
iamilton and Charles and the reader, to
-•ighton. On the way Caroline thought
to perceived among the Sussex peasants,
Itvvithstanding their rusticity, " a good
ill towards each other that bespoke the
lendliness of their disposition." " So
iiiiy is the youthful, unsuspicious mind,"
luarks the author, " led to declare itself in
f'our of that which it has not tried." Her
rither was equally pessimistic. "Alas!"
t|)Ught her mother, " she will too soon learn
iim the experience of otliers, if not from
l|r own, that appearances are not always to
Ij trusted." At Brighton Mr. Hamilton
i^bends, and conducts Caroline to a view of
t]) " extended ocean." He even suggests

that she should take a dip, though he puts
the suggestion less crudely. "To-morrow
morning," he says, "you will see a number
of females and children dipping their heads
beneath the wave. I would advise you to
follow their example while you are here."
"I fear I shall want courage," replied
Caroline. " Not when you see so many
going fearlessly in, and the bright waves,
glittering and shining in the morning sun,
dancing to receive you. Will you want
courage then ? " "I must take time to
consider of this," said she. " Let me at
present admire its wide expanse, and not
confine myself to the little waves which
roll towards my feet. They remind me
of a small extract from Mason's English
Garden," which she at once quotes. "Some
young ladies," interposes the author,
"would have come to the sea full fraught
with extracts suitable to the occasion." But
this was the best Caroline could do. The
Pavilion puzzles her, with its incessant
cry : " Thank you, madam. Two, three.
Pray, madam, take a number." But Mr.
Hamilton explains : " This is by some called
gambling ; it is the loo - table of noted
celebrity." And Caroline is appropriately
shocked.

Charles's letters — for Charles was engaged
for a season in calculating the price of
staple commodities — "will amuse some of
my young readers," says the author.
Charles is full of compliments to his sister,
and devotes a postcript to the exclamation :
" What can there be in all you females,
that we are so at a loss without your
society ! "

The necessary spice of naughtiness is
supplied by Miss Dobson, a young lady
with a penurious papa and a passion for
French lace, some of which she and her
misguided mamma try to smuggle through
on the London coach. They are detected,
and the penurious i)apa has to pay. Eetri-
bution follows, for Miss Dobson and her
mamma " were deprived of every recreation,
except what their house and garden at
Islington afforded, or occasional visits to
their brother's shop." So do our sins bring
their own punishment. Finally, however,
the shining virtues of Caroline lighten the
gloom of the house at Islington — Caroline,
who " by mild and gentle remonstrances
led her friend to see the error of her
conduct."

As for the rest, Mr. Hamilton retired into
the coimtry with his wife, where he " culti-
vated a few fields and his garden," while
the affectionate attention of their children
rendered their excellent parents happy, and
gave to themselves a lasting satisfaction."
Charles, moreover, went on calculating the
price of staple commodities, and ' ' by his
unremitting attention and respectable con-
duct, the credit of their house remained
xmdiminished, and his own reputation became
thoroughly established."

So ends the book — a book thumb-marked
and dog-eared by childish hands that have
long ago withered, wasted, and vani,shetl ;
and when you reflect that this was the sort
of book your grandmother had to read, you
will wonder that your grandmother was such
a delightful old lady.

C. E.

THE WEEK.

IT goes without saying that the output of
new books during the last week has
been small and unimportant. But we have
received from the Fine Art Society a very
handsome folio of reproductions of drawings
and studies by the late Lord Leighton. This
is neither small (it measures 17in. by 14in.)
nor unimportant, whether considered as
a book for the studio or for the drawing-

NEW BOOKS EECEIVED.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

Tb Deuu Laitdauus. By the la'^ Mrs. Rtindle Charles

S.P.C.K. 38. 6d.
Thh Lessons of Holy Scbiptubb. Illcstbated by

Thouqhts iir Vbrsb. Compiled by the Rev. J. H.

Wanklyn. Vol. VIII. Bemrose & Sons.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

Publications op thb Navy Rbcobds Society : Vol. X.,
Lbttbbh and Papers Relating to the Wab with
Fbance, 1512-1513. By Alfred Spont. The Navy
Records Society, For subscriljers only.

Lincoln Oathedkai.. Sy the Rev. Edmand Venables.
Isbister & Co.

Cablyle on Burns. By John Muir. Wm. Hodge & Co.
(Glasgow).

POETRY, KSSAVrs, CRITICISM.
All's Right with the Wobld. By Charles B, Newcomb,
The Philosophical PablishiDg Company (Boston).

ART.
OsAwiNGs AND STUDIES. By the late Lord Leighton
Stretton, P.R.A. The Fine Art Society.

NEW EDITIONS OF NOVELS.
Thb RouiHCEs of Albxanobe Duuas, Nbw Sbbies:
Sylvandre. Monsibub de Chauvblin's Will.
Agkmor i>b Maulcon.

EDUCATIONAL.
FiBST Year op Scientific Knowlbdoe. By Paul Bert.

Revised edition. Relfe Bros. 3s.
The SruDENTH' Sbbies of Latin Classes. M. TuUi

Ciceronis, Laelius de Amicitia. With Notes by Charles

B.Dennett. Leach, Shewell, & Sanborn (Boston, Ac,

U.S.A.).

JUVENILE BOOKS.
English History for Childbbn. By Mrs. Frederick

Boas. James Nisbet & Co. 2s. 6d. Philippa s A«i-

vbhtobes in Upsidedown Land. By Laura Luoio

Finlay. Digby, Long & Co. Is. 6d.

MISCELLANEOUS.
Alcdin Club Teacts: I., The OBNAitENTs of

EUBBio. By J. T. Mioklothwaite, F.S.A.
Green & Co.. 68.

THE

Longmans

DRAMA.

" SEASONABLE " ENTERTAINMENTS.

HOW misleading statistics may bo is
curiously shown by the returns of
pantomime this season for London and
Greater London respectively. We know
how the statistician deals with such a case.
He takes the amount of pantomime pro-
vided at the West-end tlicatres— which,
theatrically speaking, constitute London
proper — and compares it with the same
class of entertainment as given at theatres
just within or without the four-mile radius,
ixually showing the proportion of both per
t.-ousand of tlie population. By this method

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 1, 1898.

— and the statistician knows no other —
some startling results would he brought
out. It woidd be shown, for example, that
whereas the taste for pantomime in inner
London remained limited and stationary,
in outer London it was extensive, and
growing by leaps and bounds ; seeing
that while two pantomimes suffice for the
former area, the latter requires some five or
six and twenty, or fully one-third more than
last year. Of course this is all illusory ; it
only shows what could be done with statistics
if one liked. In point of fact, the Drury
Lane "Babes in the Wood" and Mr. Oscar
Barrett's " Cinderella " at the Garrick are
productions that serve for London at large
and, perhaps, a little for the country too.
As for the increased production of pantomime
in the suburban theatres that is due to the
fact that the theatres themselves have become
more numerous, and because the ordinary-
manager has no idea of a Christmas and
New Year entertainment other than that of
tradition. Not only is pantomime de rigneur
at this season, but year after year it con-
tinues to be written on the same model.
Half-a-dozen familiar nursery tales are the
stock-in-trade of the librettist. With end-
less iteration the changes are rung upon
Cinderella, Dick Whittington, the Babes in
the Wood, Aladdin, Sinbad, and the rest.
Let the treatment be as varied and ingenious
as you please, within the limits assigned to
it, the sameness of subject and style must
in the end become tiresome even to the
children themselves.

Well, the lane has been a long one, but the
turning, I fancy, is at length in sight. The
Drury Lane pantomime this year differs in
some important respects from its predecessors.
To be sure, the librettist sets to work upon
the usual nursery fable, and for some little
distance the conventional lines of treatment
are faithfully followed. Good spirits and
demons dispute with each other the control
of the hero and heroine's destinies ; there is
the usual allowance of giants, gnomes, and
fairies ; the haunted wood is peopled with
all the familiar monsters ; the wicked uncle
is to the fore in conjunction with his hire-
ling cut-throats. Bill and Will. But the
adventures of the Babes as known to nursery
legend do not furnish material for more
than half the evening's entertainment.
After the murderers have quarrelled and fled,
and the birds have performed the kindly
ofiBce of covering the Babes with leaves,
these little waifs sleep the sleep of — Eip
Van Winkle. In short, the second half of
the pantomime, although in form a sequel to
the first, is in reality a wholly different
entertainment, resembling in its main
features the " musical comedy " or extrava-
ganza popularised by Mr. Arthur Eoberts.
The Babes are no longer the Babes; they
have attained to what the cynic calls their
vears of indiscretion, and are discovered
leading a fast and horsey life about town, in
as many capacities as those fertile comedians
Mr. Dan Leno and Mr. Herbert Campbell
can invent for them.

Of the impersonation of the Babes qud
Babes this is hardly the place to speak.
Mr. Dan Leno, in a little school-boy jacket,

and the burly Mr. Herbert Campbell, dis-
guised in gold ringlets and a pink pinafore,
are a couple of amusing drolls, whom long
association in Drury Lane pantomime has
taught to play up to each other with excellent
effect. But, unquestionably, the important
feature of Mr. Arthur CoUins's first panto-
mime is "the sequel." What a vista it
opens up of the after-lives of all the heroes
and heroines of nursery lore ! The pre-
cocious child often wonders what happened
to Jack the Giant KUler after slaying his
enemy, to Cinderella after marriage, to Dick
Whittington as Lord Mayor, to Aladdin
after besting the magician and regaining
possession of the wonderful lamp. Perhaps
the pantomime librettist of the future will
tell him, and then, if the Drury Lane
precedent be followed, the Christmas panto-
mime will merge into the variety entertain-
ment, with the chief comedian playing as
many parts as the melancholy Jaques
assigned to life itself.

Certainly the time is ripe for a change of
this kind, which is perhaps fuller of possi-
bilities than it looks. The conventional
Christmas pantomime has had a long career
— longer than most of the various phases of
the drama — the poetic, the romantic, the
farcical, the realistic, &c. — enjoy. Originally
the harlequinade, which attained its zenith
in the days of Grimaldi, was the thing.
The nurserj- fable served then as the opening
to the antics of clown and pantaloon, who
were ushered in by the transformation scene.
Then "the opening" gradually extended,
pushing the harlequinade into the back-
ground ; and when the late Augustus Harris
took up the work of production, with his
unique faculty for mise-en-scene, the clown
and his fellows sank further and further
into obscurity. Grimaldi had no successors
of his own calibre ; but a long line of clowns
followed in his footsteps, zealous exponents
of the hot looker and the buttered slide
which he invented. Almost the last of
the race was the late Harry Payne, long
associated with Drury Lane. He lived to
see the practical extinction of the old-
fashioned harlequinade, for which there
was no room in the gorgeous Christmas
spectacles of the Harris rigime. Now the
spectacular pantomime itself goes into the
limbo ; and Qiere seems to be about to arise
in its place the musical comedy, extrava-
ganza, or go-as-you-please variety piece, to
which the name of burlesque still clings.
Truly the reflections of the elderly panto-
mime-goer are not all couleur-de-rose. The
pantomime of his youth is only a memory.
That of his manhood is disappearing. We
are now in a transition stage. The latest
Drury Lane pantomime is a blend of the old
and the new, with the new decidedly pre-
dominating, and this tendency is likely to
increase : for the one constant law of the
drama in all its branches is change.

If change were not at work in pantomime
itself, the popularity of this traditional
form of Christmas entertainment would be
threatened by the sort of " seasonable "
fare which happens to be provided at
Terry's Theatre. This is a selection of the
children's tales of Hans Christian Andersen

—"Big Claus and Little Glaus," "Tl
Princess and the Swineherd," "The En
peror's New Clothes," and " The SoWie
and the Tinder-box " — adapted by M
Basil Hood, and set to music by Mr. Walt(
Slaughter. Little gems these pieces an
purely fanciful effusions that transport tli
denizen of the workaday world into a deligh
ful Toyland, where everything happens ;
in story books. It is long since anythin
so pretty and charming has been seen o
the stage, for between them the librettii
and the composer have succeeded in repn
ducing these exquisite fables with all the
original savour. The various little tales ai
not of equal merit. The rivalry in love (
Big Claus and Little Claus smacks a litt
of Boccaccio ; the moral atmosphere of tl
story is somewhat thick for children. Bi
the Swineherd with his magic pipe, to whic
everyone who hears it must dance ; tl
Emperor with his invisible coat ; the soldi(
with his tinder-box, which proves as powe;
ful a talisman as Aladdin's lamp ; and tl
wooden soldiers who have replaced the rei
soldiers in this marvellous kingdom (
Nowhere — all these are creations in whic
yoimg and old alike may revel. It is strung
that Andersen should not be better know
to theatre goers than he is. The Ten
Theatre matinees are a promising instahnei
of a class of dramatic entertainment i
which we have had too little. Of couri
Andersen is not exhaustible ; but next w
can have Planche, and perhaps Andre
Lang. After which a new dealer in fail
stories may find the stage worth his attei
tion. J. F. N.

THE BOOK MARKET,

THE CHEISTMAS TEADE.

IT is always interesting to know tl
results of a harvest, be it agricultur
or otherwise ; and we have obtained from
number of booksellers brief reports of thf
experiences last week. Here they are :

LONDON (strand).

The Christmas trade has been as good
usual in small books, but not so satisfacto
in larger, with a few exceptions. The
have been most in demand : j

Memoir of Tennyson. "

Norway's Highways and Byways of Dev

and Cornwall.
Deeds that Won the Empire.
More Tramps Abroad.
More Beasts for Worse Children.
Sixty Years a Queen.
Holmes's Life of the Queen.
Captains Courageous.
Jones's Eock-Chmbing.
Watson's The Hope of the World.
Eugene Field's Lullaby Land.
Lucas's Book of Verses for Children.

LONDON (OXFORD STREET).

On the whole, we have had a good Chi' •
mas trade, although it has been a seasoit
small things. There has been a run upO|

Memoir of Tennyson.
Palgrave's Golden Treasury.
Deeds that Won the Empire.
Lucas's Book of Verses for Children.
Keats, Illustiated by Anuiug Bell.

Jan. 1. 1898.1

THE ACADEMY.

LONDON (HOLBOKN).

j Business has been uniformly good this
Christmas. The demand has been for :

Memoir of Tennyson.
Creighton's Shires.
Holmes's Life of Queen Victoria.
Keata, Illustrated by Arming Bell.
Lucas's Book of Verses for Children.
The " Bab " Ballads (new edition).
Drummond's Ideal Life.
Captains Com-ageous.
Nicholson's Alphabet.

DAELINGTON.

An excellent season.
sold best :

The following have

Holmes's Life of Queen Victoria.

Life of Lord Tennyson.

Roberts's Forty-one Years in India.

Farthest North.

Westcott's Christian Aspects of Life.

In Kedar's Tents.

Captains Courageous.

Deeds that Won the Empire.

Moutressor's At the Cross Beads.

The Pink Fairy Book.

The Vege-men's Revenge

Adventures of Sir Toady Lion.

The "runs" during Christmas week here
were on these books :

Watson's Potter's Wheel.

Drummond's Ideal Life.

Miller's Personal Friendships.

The Beth Book.

Tennyson's Poems.

Ian Maclaren's A Doctor of the Old School.

LEICESTER.

As a rule, parcels were smaller this year
than last, but the number was much greater.
These sold best :

Deeds that Won the Empire.
Pot-Pourri from a Surrey Garden.
Captains Com-ageous.
Nicholson's Alphabet and Sports.

BIRMINGHAM.

The Christmas bookselling season was a
good one, the demand being principally for
popular fiction for jiresents for adidts, and
the usual annuals and fine art coloured
books for children. The large demands
were for :

Tennyson's Life.
Forty-one Years in India.
Pot-Pourri from a Surrey Garden.
Buskin's Modem Painters (new edition).
Deeds that Won the Empire.
Novels by Merriman, Crockett, and Bosa
Carey.

CAMBRIDGE.

The Christmas bookselling season in
Cambridge has been on the whole very fair.
! There has been a steady demand for well-
' illustrated books and popular novels. The
only book on which there has been any con-
siderable "rim" is More Beasts for Worse
Children.

I CHELTENHAM.

j The books most in demand last week
j were :

Lord Tennyson's Life.
Forty-one Years in India.
Sixty Years a Queen.
The Jubilee Book of Cricket.

Deeds that Won the Empire.

In Kedar's Tents.

Doctor of the Old School.

Sir Toady Lion.

All Mrs. Steele's Books, New and Old.

Watson's The Potter's Wheel.

CHESTER.

The general trade was good; and these
sold well :

The Jubilee Book of Cricket.
Pot-Pourri from a Siu-rey Garden.
Master Skylark.
Deeds that Won the Empire.

CARDIFF.

The book sales this Christmas have been
fairly satisfactory, especially for :

Life of Tennyson.

The Beth Book.

St. Ives.

Lang's Pink Fairy Bo k.

The Christian.

Rudyard Kipling's Works.

Deeds that Won the Empire.

Nister's Toy-Books.

BRISTOL.

Sales much as usual. Very little at a
higher price than 6s. No remarkable runs ;
but Stevenson and Crockett showed great
vitality.

EXETER.

Trade not quite up to the average. The
most popular books here were :

Nicholson's Alphabet and Sports.
Mrs. Browning's Poetical Works.
Pot-Pourri from a Surrey Garden.
Captains Courageous.
The "Bab" Ballads (new edition).

BOURNEMOUTH.

The season has been very fair, but heavy
price sets and expensive books have sold
scarcely at all. The demand here has been
for these :

Captains Courageous.
The Seven Seas.
Watson's Potter's Wheel.
Memoir of Tennyson.
Drummond's Ideal Life.
Henty's new books.
Eugene Field's Lullaby Land.
Crockett's Sir Toady Lion.
WiUiam Watson's Hope of the World.
St. Ives.

In Kedar's Tents.
Mrs. Browning's Poems.
Norway's Highways and Byways of Devon
and Cornwall.

BRIGHTON.

Speaking generally, the season for books
has not been a good one, and there has
been no special run, but a decided increase
in " annuals " is noted.

DUBLIN.

"We arehajipy tobe able to report favourably
on the Christmas bookselling here. The most
striking feature is that no particular book
had a great run, with the exception, perhaps,
of Life of John Nicholson unA. Deeds that Won
the Empire. For the latter the demand far
exceeded the supply. Lord Eoberts's book
is still in great request.

CORRESPONDENCE.

THE "AUTHOE'S" FIGUEE8.

Sir, — I am sorry to have to destroy
an illusion of Sir Walter Besant's. I am
not a reader of the Author. I do not
think I have seen more than two numbers
in my life. I again repeat that I should
not have paid one second's attention to any
statement made in its columns had not that
statement been reproduced by the Academy.
It is true that several years ago I had some
correspondence and one or two interviews
with Sir "Walter Besant. I had seen, by
chance, a number of the Author, and I
pointed out in a friendly and good-humoured
way the baselessness of many statements
made therein; in especial, I proved by a
+ h how utterly inexact was the assertion
that publishers always recovered their out-
lay and never made .any losses. That state-
ment and others of which I complained
have since been repeated in the Author
without one word of qualification. Sir
"Walter Besant says that he cannot
understand my change of attitude. Here
is the explanation. Nothing is easier, even
to the most careful and fair-minded man,
than to make mistakes of fact, and then to
base upon them unfounded charges. But
when the mistakes have been corrected the
careful and fair-minded man does not
reproduce them, and he withdraws or
apologises for the charge.

I will be as brief as possible in dealing
with Sir "Walter Besant's answer to my
criticism of his comptes fmitastiques. He
entirely fails to understand the nature of
the charge I make against the Author. A
young writer acquaints it with a proposal
made by a publisher (it now seems that it was
one the latter " had a perfect right to make " ).
Instead of testing the proposal, as could easily
have been done by submitting the MS. to
another firm for publication upon commis-
sion, the result of which test might conceiv-
ably have been to amply justify the Author's
strictures, a series of pure assumptions re-
specting the cost of production of the work
in question is made, and those assumptions
are used as evidence in the Author's campaign
against the publishing trade. I challenge
those assumptions, and assert that they rim
counter to the probabilities of the case, and
that they imply on the part of the Author
" unfair animus or gross and negligent
carelessness." Sir Walter defends those
assumptions. The only result of his defence
is to convince me that my strictures upon
the Author's methods of controversy erred, if
anything, upon the side of undue mildness.

The Author assumes that the work in
question (published at 6s.) woidd run to
272 pages. I assumed that it would run
to 388 pages. Sir Walter triumphantly citea
five books which average 248 pages.
Well, two out of his five examples
{Many Cargoes and A Prisoner of Zendu)
are three-and- sixpenny books. Is it
also carelessness which makes him [over-
look the unfairness of comparing works
by the most popular novelists of the day
with that of a yoimg and untried writer?
Let the comparison stand, however, but then

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 1, 1898.

let it be carried through completely. The
AutJior assumes the figure of £14 for adver-
tising in its imaginary balance-sheet. Does
Sir Walter really believe that the advertising
bill of The Light that Failed or A Window in
ITirums was only £14 ?

Meanwhile, I can only admire the hicky
chance which led Sir Walter to take down
from his shelves precisely those three six-
shilling novels which support the Author's
assumptions. I go into the nearest book-
seller's and look at a number of six-shilling
novels most in demand : The Christian
(474 pp.); The Beth Book (536 pp.); The
Gadfly (390 pp.); The Sorrows of Satan
(488 pp.) ; Phroso (with illustrations, 452
pp.) ; Noemi (with numerous illustrations,
368 pp.). As a simple matter of fact, the
half - a - dozen most popular six - shilling
novels issued by Mr. Heinemann between
August and November of this year average
399 pages ; the first forty numbers on
Messrs. Methuen's list o'f six-shilling novels
average 380 pages, and many of them are
freely illustrated. In many of these cases,
too (e.g.. The Beth Book), the number of
words to the page considerably exceeds the
Author's assumption of 282.

I do not wish to take up the Academy's
space by showing that the other assumptions
made by the Author in order to arrive at its
imaginary balance-sheet are just as reli-
able as the one I have examined. One
assertion, however, is too characteristic to
be passed over. I pointed out that the
Author made no allowance for review and
presentation copies, and I estimated them at
100. Sir Walter asserts that only 40
would be used, and that this number
would come out of the "overs." I
can assure him that the nominal "overs"
do little more than compensate for the
inevitable "shorts" on a long number.
On an edition of 1,500 I should think
myself lucky to get a clear 12 or 15 over
th, nominal number (on an edition of 500
copies, which I have just issued, I get one
oiir), and these have to be reserved against
tao inevitaVjle chapter of accidents, returns
ol damaged copies, &c., the loss entailed by
vrhich would otherwise fall upon the book.

There only remains one point. Sir
Walter Besant accuses me of not deducting
free copies from the author's royalty share;
this is a mistake, as can be seen by refer-
ence to my letter. I do, however, interpret
the agreement differently from him : it
provided that royalties should accrue only
after the sale of 100 copies. I take it they
would then be retrospective. I may be mis-
taken, as the wording is ambiguous ; so, too,
may Sir Walter.

1 think the facts are set forth fully enough
for any fair-minded man to form an opinion.
Apart, however, from any dispute as to
questions of fact, I again protest that it is
not right to base charges against third
persons upon mere assumptions, even if
those assumptions were infinitely better sup-
ported than in the present case.

AuEED NUTT.

Dec. 27, 1897.

neglect and oblivion they court and get,
but when they blazon forth in your respected
colunui.s, and strut about blatantly in their
naked ignorance, they must at least "be
put into their proper place."

It is the poor six-shilling novel whose
cause its quixotic knight gives away so
completely this time that it can never, never
again trust its honour to Sir Walter's
valour. To prove his case he cites among
five examples of six-shilling books two
which are not six-shiUing books at all, but
three-and-sixpenny ones ; and for the rest
of them their size (by the yard) is about as
fair as if you took our own " Bobs's " inches
as a proper computation of the average
height of the British soldier. Not only
does he neglect, in getting his average, the
gigantic dimensions of the Life-Guardsman,
but he drags in naively — shall we say? —
the mignonne vivandiere.

Let him return, Mr. Editor, to his own
quarters. He will be safer there, and,
anyhow, he will be out of the sight of those
who know.

Wm. Heinemann.

Dec. 29, 1897.

HEINEICH HEINE.

Sib, — Our admiration for Heine should
not make us forget his cruel behaviour
towards a fellow-poet, Platen by name, with
whom he had quarrelled, and who thereupon
called him a vile Jew. The revenge Heine
took for the offence is an ugly blot upon his
character ; and Platen died broken-hearted.
When Heine was asked by the Hungarian
writer Kertbeny whether he reaUy believed
all the horrors he had published about him
in his Reisehilder, he coolly replied :

"Not a bit of it, and I consider Platen to
have been one of our most important poets
(bedeutenden Dichter). only, you see, I had to
protect my legs from the bites of all sorts if
curs and I seized the biggest of them all,
skinned him as Apollo skinned Marsyas, drag-
ging his corpse before the footlights to
discourage the others from attacking rae.
Besides which, this Platen was such an arrogant
fellow I He would call me a Jew although 1
more than once requested him not to do so.

And so in my turn I called him a " (Word

untranslatable.)

Is it a fact that Heine killed the Suabian
school of poetry ? That school was hardly
worth his steel, for it only produced one
great poet, Ludwig Uhland, whose lyrics,
however, will live as long as the Buch der
Lieder. Heine could not have kLUed him
had he tried. He did better than that, he
imitated him. Uhland's influence upon the
younger poet is distinctly discernible.

Thomas Delta.
Dec. 27, 1897.

Sib, — When Sir Walter Besant's chimeras
swamp the pages of his own little
monthly pamphlet they are best left to the

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.
"His Grace of The critics all find fault
By Frances with Mrs. Burnett's hero for
Hodgson Burnett, being faultless. Says the
Chronicle :

" Prom almost the hour of his birth the Duke
is an epitome of all the virtues associated, by
idealists, with the name ' gentleman.' He was

a fine baby, a beautiful boy, as a man a sort of
blend of Adonis and the Admirable Crichton.
Throughout ihe book he never does one wrong
thing or harbours one reprehensible thought.
He is a gallant soldier and a favourite of
Marlborough, but he loves not war ; h" i.s a
passionate lover, but as pure as ice ; a brillidut
swordsman, a model landlord — in fact, every-
thing that he ought to be except interesting.
For that deficiency naught can atone ; and we
confess we should have thought Mrs. Burnett
to be too true an artist not to know that mere
virtue, like mere vice, \a insufficient to give
attractiveness to a character in fiction."

The Westminster Gazette agrees :

" In short, his perfection is a little tiresome ;
we long for him to break out in some manner
not quite correct, to show character, to become
human."

The Daily Telegraph and the Scotsman are
more merciful, and the former finds the
portrait of Lord Eoxholm anything but
tedious.

The Daily News critic is very severe on
the relation of the book to its predecessor,
A Lady of Quality : " Tlie book is not a
sequel to, it is in the main a rei^etition of,
its predecessor " ; and he agrees that " to an
unregenerate critic, so perfect a man [as his
Grace of Osmonde] is uninteresting and un-
convincing."

The Standard agrees that as a sequel to
A Lady of Quality the book is a failure :

"Mrs. Hodgson Burnett seems to be in-
fatuated with her own heroine, Clorinds
WUdairs, and no less with that lady's lover,
who in the former book arrived an hour too
late oQ the occasion of the betrothmeut. Thii
has blinded her to the fact that sequels are
usually mistakes, and that this book is no
exception to the rule. We had had enough of
Clorinda, and of her second husband, too, so
that ' His Grace of Osmonde ' (One Vol.,
Warne) comes as an anti-climax, and one that
falls extraordinarily flat. Mrs. Burnett hag
nothing to tell — nothing that is new, at least.
She introduces some minor characters, or,
rather, we will say, some other cburacters,
seeing that Marlborough is among them ; but
they only hang about the book, and do nothing
that was worth the telling or doing, as it is
done and told here. . . . This book must be a
matter of real regret to Mrs. Burnett's ad-
mirers ; the result is only wasted time for
writer and readers."

On Mrs. Burnett's style the Daily Chronicle
has these remarks :

" The attempt to write in the hterary
method of the last ceutury is feeble at best, and
for the most part intensely irrititing. When,
for instance, the characters say ' 'twas ' and
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People's Edition, price ed., with Portrait. (Special terms
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Jax. 1, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

IMPORTANT NOTICE.

On MONDAY, January 3 rd, MESSRS. METHUEN will publish

FROM TONKIN TO INDIA.

By PRINCE HENRI OF ORLEANS.

Translated by HAMLEY BENT.

With a Map and over a Hundred Illustrations from AVood-blocks after G. Vuiixier.

Crown 4to, 480 pp., 25s.

The Travels of Prince Henri in 1895 from China to the Valley of the Bramapatra covered a dis'ance of

,100 miles, of which 1,600 was throngh absolutely unexiilored country. No fewer than seventeen nnges

f mountains were crossed at altitudes of from 11 ,000 to 13,000 feet. The journey was made memorable by

'i^cnvery of llie sources of the Irrawa<Jdy. To the physical difficulties of the journey were added

s from the attacks of savage tribes. The book deals with many of the political problems of the East,

... .-. will be found a most important contribution to the literature of adventure and discovery.

METHUEN ft (X)., Essex Stekkt, W.C.

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EPPS'S COCOA.

Extracts fkou a Lectu be ok * Foods a»d theib Values,*
BY D«. Ahdeew Wilsok, F.R.S.E., Ac.—'* If any motives—
firsl, of due regard fur health, and second, of getting full
food-ralue for money expended — can be said to weigh with
as in choosing our foods, then I say that Cocoa (Epps's
being the most nutritious) should be ma<le to replace tea and
coffee without hesita*ion. Cocoa is a food ; tea and coffee
are not food**. This is the whole science of the matter in
a nutshell, and he who runs may read the obTioas moral of
the story,"

PORTRAIT SUPPLEMENTS TO "THE ACADEMY.

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1896.
November 14

December

1897

January
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UTie following have already appeared: —

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II
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If
If

19
26
3
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17

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 1, 1898.

I*™**;!

IMPORTANT CAUTION.

" Kola is not a Food.

Kola is not harmless."

—MEDICAL WORLD.

CADBUBY'S Cocoa is entirely free from all admixtures, SQch as Kola, Malt, Hops, Alkal,

&c., and the Public should insist on having the Pure, Genuine article.
CABBUBY'S Cocoa is " a Perfect Food."

EXTRACT FROM AN OPINION by

Dr. ANDREW WILSON, F.R.S.E.,

(Combe and Gilchrist Lecturer, &e.), expressed by him in a Lecture on Foods—

" I am distinctly of opinion that the modern tendency to add to Cocoa othei'
substances, mostly of a stimulating nature, is a dietetic mistake, a practice to be

thoroughly discouraged. If you have a pure Cocoa you want nothing
else in the way of constituting it a food, for it contains in itself
all the principles which go to make up a perfect article of diet.

When people begin to add to Cocoa, Hops and Kola and other things, they are
interfering witli and altering its dietetic value. Cocoa thus treated is not Cocoa,
but something else, and I have declined for my part, in all my long advocacy of

Cocoa as a food, to recognise that anything but pure, unadulterated
Cocoa can correspond with this definition of a perfect and

desirable diet. I hope the time is not far distant when the public will awaken
to a knowledge of the fact that ' doctored ' Cocoa is not a thing to be recommended
or advised as a food. To add other matters to Cocoa is ' to gild the lily ' (in a
nutritive sense), and we all know how ofPensive and needless a practice is the
attempt to impi-ove on the Chemistry of Nature's Own Food."

GADBURY'S CGCOA
is Absolutely Pure, & a Perfect pood.

Printed by ALKXANDBB k SHBPHBABD, Lonsdale Printing Works, Obancery Lsne ; PabUshed for the Propristor by PBTKB GBORCiB ANDRBWS, «, Chancery Lane, W.0,

THE ACADEMY.

A WEEKLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.

No. 1340. — New Series.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 1898.

Prick 3<i.

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EPPS'S COCOA.

Extracts from a Lectube git * Foods and theib Values/
BY Db. Andrew Wilson, F.R.S.E., Ac— "If any motives-
first, of due regard for health, and second, of getting full
food-value for money expended — can be said to weigh with
Us in choosing our foods, then I say that Cocoa (Eppa's
being the most nutritious) should be made to replace tea and
coffee without hesitation. Cocoa is a food ; tea and coffee
are not foods. This is the whole science of the matter in
a nutshell, and he who runs may read the obvious moral of
the story.'*

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With the Co-operation of Prof. fl. Sidowiok, Drs. E. Caird, Venn

and Wabd, aud Professor E. B. TiTCUENtn.

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L HEGELS THEORY of the POLITICAL ORGANISM

B. BOSANQL'KT.

II. A CONTRIBUTION towardsan IMPROVEMENT in PSYCHO-
LOGICAL METHOD.-L W. MoDocoAi,!,.

III. ON the LOGICAL SUBJECT of the PROPOSITION. E. 0.

Benecke.

IV. THE DIALECTICAL METHOD.— I. Prof. E. B. MoGii.varv.
V. KANT'S DOCTRINE of TIME and SPACE. J. H. UrSLor.

VL DIBCUSSIONS-

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Andrew Seth, *' Mail's Place In the Cosmos, and other Essays,

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THE FORUM.

Is. (id. — JANUARY, 1898. — Is. lid.
OUR COAST DEFENCES. Maj..aen. Nelson A. Mii.es.
THE FUTURE of BIMETALISM. Senator George G. Vest.
ELECTRICAL ADVANCE in the PAST TEN YEARS. Elihu

Thomson.
EXPORTS and WAGES. Jacob SciioEiiiior.
THE RECONQUEST of NEW YORK by TAMMANY. Simon

Sterne.
THE POLITICAL OUTLOOK. Henry Watterson.
THE INCORPORATION of tho WORKING-CLASS. Hugh

McGrequr.
CHINA,and CHINESE RAILWAY CONCESSIONS. Clarence Oari
IS IT WORTH WHILE to TAKE OUT a PATENT? Uarwood

HUNTINOTOS.

EDUCATION in HAWAII. Henry 8. Townsend.

AMERICAN EXCAVATIONS at SPARTA and OORINTU

J. Gennadius.
THE RELATION of the DRAMA to LITERATURE. Professor

Branoer Matthews.

Loudon G P. PuiNAHs* Sons, 24, Bedford Street, Strand

TIIK ACADf.MY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

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PORTRAIT SUPPLEMENTS TO "THE ACADEMY."

The following have already appeared :-

S.'VMUEL RICHARDSON

THOMAS DE QUINCEY

LEIGH HUNT

LORD MACAULAY .. .

ROBERT SOUTH EY

S. T. COLERIDGE ... .

CHARLES LAMB ...

MICHAEL DRAYTON ,

WALTER SAVAGE )
LANDOR ]

SAMUEL PEPYS ... ,

EDMUND WALLER .

WILKIE COLLINS ... ,

JOHN MILTON ... .

WILLIAM COWPER

CHARLES DARWIN

1897
. . . Jan.

i»

.. Feb.

»i

i»

.. March 6

»!

.. April

ALFRED, LORD
TENNYSON

HENRY WADSWORTH \
LONGFELLOW ... /

ANDREW MARVELL ...

ROBERT BROWNING ...

THOMAS CARLYLE

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

CHARLES DICKENS ...

JONATHAN SWIFT

WILLIAM MAKE-1
PEACE THACKERAY/

WILLIAM BLAKE

SIR RICHARD STEELE ...

ALEXANDER POPE..

DOUGLAS JERROLD

FRANCIS BACON ..

Ajiril 17

May

Jut.e

July

1!
21

Dan. 8, 1898."!

THE ACADEMY.

CONTENTS.

Retiivs :

Napoleon by Flashlights

"Bab"

Travels in Indo-China

Biography in Little

A Provost of Eton

BSIEFEB MlKTIOir

NOTBB AND NkWS

The •'Acadbhy*8" Awards to Authohs -
RiprrATioNs Hscoksidered :

m.. Lord Tennyson

millais at burlingtok housb

The Book Maeext

The Bitter Cry of a Second-band Bookseller
The Week

New Books Received

Peter the Great

GOB&SSPOIfDBirCE

Book Reviews Reviewed

FicTioir ScppLiMiirT .

.. 28

.. 27

.. 28

.. 20

.. 30

.. 31

.. 34

.. 31

.. 3a

.. 37

.. 38

.. 30

.. 39

.. 40

.. 42

3-4

REVIEWS.

NAPOLEON BY FLASHLIGHTS.

New Letters of Napoleon I. Translated by
Lady Mary Loyd. (Heinemann.)

ACEETAIN ancient philosopher was
called "The Bottomless," but with
much better right might the title be given to
Najjoleon. Napoleonic literature pours forth
in endless floods, and yet never is it ex-
hausted. For all which there is a reason —
Napoleon was more than a man : he was an
epoch, and those who have no new light to
throw upon the man may yet illustrate the
epoch while the epoch is illustrated even by
those wlio deal only with the man. Merely
as a man, he is a portent, an extraordinary
revelation of possible human faculty. Here
is a fresh book on the infinite theme,
and a book fascinating exceedingly,
though it is the mere gleanings of
the great Corsican's innumerable corres-
pondence.

By a reader with the smallest knowledge of
Napoleon's career, this book will be found
graphic and vital to the last degree. Here
we have, not the man of the Napoleonic
legend, nor yet the petty domestic
Napoleon of some unedifying backstairs
memoirs, but what we might call the most
private aspect of the public Napoleon. It
does not, of course, show us the Emperor
as a military genius, nor yet Napoleon as seen
by his valet. But in almost all other respects
it is a microcosm of the great conqueror.
The first thing which stands out from it is
his preterhuman administrative power : in
its extensive and unfaltering energy a
Nasmyth steam-hammer, which can crush a
bar of iron or crack a walnut. War,
1 finance, police ; the direction of his subject
kings and kingdoms ; the watching of some

• petty miserable suspect ; the admonishment
I of a pope or a newspaper : he turns rapidly,
i clearly, detailedly, from one to the other, and
' issues the most diversified edicts in a breath.

• Now he is twirling the affairs of Spain
between his fingers Hke a teetotum, now he

1 18 playing the match-making mamma over
I his brothers' obnoxious marriages. He

breaks to shivers the dreaded army of
Prussia, the legacy of Frederick the Great ;
and then pauses on the morrow of Jena, to
decree the preservation of Paris from the
wind of Mme. de Stael's petticoats. He
regulates with the same minuteness the
management of the State moneys, and the
caricatures of the English which are to be
published in the French papers. The
impression is stupendous. Surely never
was there such an organiser.

The next prominent feature in these
letters is the irresistible arrogance of
his autocracy. Our own Kaiser Wilhelm
api^ears by the side of him a very indifferent
performer, though on the present European
stage Wilhelm is the most noted actor of
what the Elizabethans called " a huffing
part." The Kaiser can do little without
rhodomontade and second-rate rhetoric ;
he clucks more over a ship or two at
Kiao-Chau than Napoleon over the de-
position of the Spanish monarchy. There is
a world more stinging masterfulness in
the first Buonaparte's curt matter-of-fact
absolutism; his "It is my wiU," " You wiU
do so-and-so," "You will let so-and-so know
my sovereign displeasure " ; the brief way
in which he treats popes and kings as
children, high functionaries as lackeys ; his
movements of his political pieces as simply
as Blackbume playing a bindfold game.
Bismarck is said to have treated his secre-
taries " as if they had stolen the silver
spoons." It was little better to be a sub-
ordinate of Napoleon. All by turns are rated
like schoolboys. The wretched brothers
whom he set up in the regal business bore
the brunt of the most scathing lectures.
Most of them deserved it. He called them
fools, and he called them by their names.
He paid dearly for the nepotism which led
him to make kings of men with all his own
inadequacy of training, and without his
marvellous compensation of genius. They
all failed him ; for they were not even
soldiers, and what he needed first and fore-
most was soldierly allies. Yet when he tried
a variation, by making a soldier king of
Sweden, his nominee fought against him in
the uprising of Europe.

The King of Westphalia, his brother
Jerome, receives some of his most intoler-
able plain-speaking :

" I have met few men with so little oirctun-
spection as you. Tou are perfectly ignorant,
and you follow nothing but your own fancy.
Reuson decides nothing in your case, everything
is ruled by impetuosity and passion. I do not
desire to have any correspondence with you
beyond what is indispensable as regards Foreign
Courts, because they make you dance step?, and
expose your want of harmony before the eyes
of Europe ; which I am not inclined to permit
y<iu to do. As for your household and financial
affairs, I have already told you, and now tell
you again, that nothing you do accords with
my position and experience, and that your mode
of action wiU bring you hltle sacoess."

To which he adds in his own hand, "I
love you, my dear fellow, but you are
terribly young." In another letter he tells
him : " You do not know men yourself, and
you try to teach me to know them." Of
such kind is letter after letter to Jerome,
whom ho nevertheless held by to the last.

only to find him useless in his final emer-
gency. Louis, King of Holland, is visUffd
with even more astounding language ; and
Louis alone, of all the Buonapartes, was a
man of feeling and principle. He wished
to govern for the benefit of his people;
whereas Napoleon was intent on the
Gallicisation of aU the subject king-
doms. Doubtless the Emperor was
right politically. It was impossible
to make French rule popular with the
annexed states, and the only thing was
to hold them by the strong hand, as the
Germans hold Alsace. But Louis honestly
resented such methods, and was, therefore,
at perpetual war with his brother, till the
Emperor finally deposed him. There is,
perha,ps, nothing hero quite so trenchant
as a previously published letter to the
unhappy Louis, with its recurrent burden —
" Don't be a fool." Nevertheless, such
charming amenities as these are quite
enough :

" What can I say to you ? That which I
have told you a hundred times already. You
are no king, and you do net know how to be a
king ! . . . I have portfolios of complaints
from my shipownTS agaiost your agents, and
if you do not put a stop to the vile behaviour
of your admirals to my flag, beware lest
I put a stop to it myself. . . . You know
very well that everything you do is oppos- d to
my opinion, and that I have often told you
I foresaw the changeableness and foUy of your
action would ruin your kingdom ? . . . I thank
you for the interest you take in my health. I
should not think it very sincere, if I were to
seek its proof in your speeches in which you
strive to tarnish my glory — if that were possible
to a man like you, who has done nothing
at aU."

In another letter, not to Louis but to
Jerome, he tells him : " You make war like
a satrap. Did yoa learn that from me?"
Such phrases are often in his mouth, when
he is addressing his brothers or his marshals :
"You never learned that in my school ";
" This is not what I expect from a man
trained in my school." The Napoleonic
school was as little scrupulous as the school
of Fagin. The naked treachery by which
he tried to occupy Lisbon and seize the
Portuguese fleet together with the king,
keeping Portugal amused with negotiations,
while his army was advancing without
declaration of war, is here flagrantly re-
vealed. The high-handed and secret
methods which he employed during his long
struggle with the Pope are another interest-
ing disclosure of these letters. Treachery,
misrepresentation, falsehood, he is shown
emi)loying as recognised weapons of State.
One of the minor impressions from these
letters is that Napoleon was less able
as a foreign statesman than in his other
capacities. He cuts his Gordian knots with
the sword ; butin diplomacy heappearshardly
a match for the Continental ministers. On
the very eve of the campaign of Jena he is
still sure that Prussia will never venture
war; that she only needs to be humoured
and managed like a tetchy child. He has
no comprehension of the magnitude of his
Spanish task, though history (to which he
frequently appeals with more fluency and
confidence than accurate knowledge) should
have taught him that the difficulties of a

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

Spanish invasion only begin with the over-
throw of the regular army. In the some-
what parallel case of Eussia he probably had
no choice save war ; but the Spanish business
was one of the hugest mistakes of his
career. The army of Sj)ain might have
averted Leipsic, had it been free for
use. The final letter of the volume has
a singular pathos. It is written on the
morrow of Waterloo, and is the mere
feverish raving of a shattered and des-
perate man.

" I will raise a hundred thousand conscripts.
I will arm them with muskets taken from the
Soyalists, and the ill-disposed members of the
National Guard. I will raise the whole of
Dauphine, the Lyonnais, and Burgundy. I will
overwhelm the enemy,"

It almost recalls those piteous words of the
fallen Lear : "I will do such things — what
they are yet I know not." So dramatically
ends a captivating and valuable book, and a
destiny of strangely tragic brilliance which
still sways the imaginations of mankind.

" BAB."

The Bah Ballads. By W. S. Gilbert.
(Eoutledge & Sons.)

In preparing this new edition Mr. Gilbert
was not well advised. In the first place, no
book of comic verse should extend to 554
pages; human nature is frail, it cannot
endure so much. Mr. Gilbert would have
done well to omit all the "Songs of a
Savoyard " — that is to say, the numbers from
his Savoy operas, which are not at all in
keeping with the Bal Ballads and some-
times are positively discordant. Take, for
example, this ingenious mock-Elizabethan
"conceited" lyric:

" Is hfe a boon ?

If so, it must befall

That Death, whene'er he call,
Must call too soon.

Though fourscore years he give,

Yet one would pray to live
Another mom !

What kind of plaint have I,

Who perish in July 't

I might have had to die
Perchance in June !

Is life a thorn ?

Then count it not a whit !

Man is well done with it ;
Soon as he's bom

He should aU means essay

To put the plague away ;
And I, war-worn,

Poor captured fugitive.

My life most gladly give—

I might have had to Uve
Another mom ! "

It is pretty and quaint and very dexterous,
but how ill does it consort with its com-
panions, " Sir Guy the Crusader "—

" His views were exceedingly proper :
He wanted to wed.
Ho he called at her shed,
And saw her progenitor whop her
Her mother sit down on her head "

and " Haunted " ! No ; Mr. Gilbert has
endeavoured to fuse irreconcilable ele-
ments, and the result is a huge and some-
what disconcerting Jumble.

But he has done worse than this : he
has re-drawn most of his best pictures.
The cuts in the original editions, and
in Fifty Bal Ballads published in 1877,
signed " Bab," were almost as good as
cuts need bo : they had crispness, fun,
and they corroborated and strengthened
the text so ably as to make them almost
perfect not only as independent comic
drawings, but as illustrations. Yet Mr.
Gilbert apparently has never shared this
view. " I have always felt," he says
in the preface to the new edition, " that
many of the original illustrations . . . erred
gravely in the direction of unnecessary ex-
travagance. This defect I have endea-
voured to correct." The i^ity of it! — as if
unnecessary extravagance were not the life-
blood of Bab's humour. And the unreason
of it, because the unnecessary extravagance
of the text still remains, even if that of the
pictures has been eliminated. Mr. Gilbert
is, however, the author, and the book is
his, and he may, we suppose, do what he
likes with it ; but we retain the right to
grumble. And more, Mr. Gilbert is not the
draughtsman he was : his hand has lost its
strength, his line is no longer decisive, his
sense of the respective value of black and
white has left him, so that his new pictures,
with few exceptions, are just ordinary
amateur comic work, and we linger with
relief over those ballads whose old cuts have
been permitted to stay untouched — over "The
Eival Curates " and " Sir Macklin," " The
Bishop of Eum-ti-foo "and " The PerQs of
Invisibility." Once the correction of im-
necessary extravagance has compelled the
artist to sacrifice a stanza. It will be
remembered that one of the pictures to
" Thomas Winterbottom Hance " represents
the two gladiators in the ring, and their
mothers, shrunken almost to nothing, look-
ing on. It is a piece of delightful fooling,
emphasised by the explanatory lines :

" The mothers were of decent size.
Though not particularly tall ;

But in the sketch that meets your eyes,
I've been obhged to draw them small."
That has all been swept away ; and the
revised mothers need no apology — and raise
no smile.

Fortunately — and we have now done with
complaints— Mr. Gilbert has not thought it
needful to alter the text of the baUads. It
is true that in the amusing nonsense entitled
" Bamaby Bampton Boo " the young woman
who once was called " Carroty Nell " is now
chastened to " Volatile NeU " ; but in the
main the stories are as they were when they
first diverted readers, some thirty years ago.
Some, we must confess, hardly bear re-
reading, but the best are stiU entertaining,
and we have spent a most agreeable hour in
renewing old impressions. Particularly
have we enjoyed meeting again with some
of the pieces not included in the collection
known as Fifty Bah Ballads, which, for most
people, has been the only edition. Among
these is the story of " Babette's Love."

" Jacot was, of the Customs bold.

An oiHcer, at gay Boulogne,
He loved Babette— his love he told.

And sighed, ' Oh, soyez vous, my own ! '
But ' Non ! ' said she, ' Jaoot, my pet,
Vous etes trop scraggy pour Babette.' "

Instead she loved Bill, a marine, gifted
with a graceful way of leaning against a
post ; and she told Jacot as much :

" ' Oh, mon ! ' exclaimed the Customs bold,
'Mes yeux ! ' he said (which means 'my
eye),
' Oh, chere ! ' he also cried, I'm told,
' Par jove,' he added with a sigh,
' Oh, mon ! oh, chSre ! mes yeux I par jove I
Je n'aime pas cet enticiog cove ! ' "

Bill's captain heard of Bill's depravity.
" He wept to think a tar of his

Should lean so gracefully on posts,
He sighed and sobbed to think of this,

On foreign, French, and friendly coists.
' It's human natur', p'raps - if so,
Oh, isn't human natur' low ! ' "

And so on. Here we have one phase of
Mr, Gilbert's peculiar humour in a nut-
shell : the elevation of an infinitesimal
peculiarity or habit into an offence of
serious import and magnitude. In the
topsy-turvy world which he has in-
vented, every inhabitant of which is mad,
such exaggerations and inversions are the
order.

Humour of this mechanical kind is simple,
but in the hands of a clever workman it
can be made quite irresistible. Mr. Gilbert
does it to perfection ' ' Mister William " is his
masterpiece — but"Captain Eeece" and "The
Martinet," "The Bishop of Eum-ti-Foo"
and "The Bishop of Eum-ti-Foo Again,"
"The Eival Curates" and "Etiquette,"
"Annie Protheroe" and "Gentle Alice
Brown," "Thomas Winterbottom Hance"
and "The Baby's Vengeance," "The King
of Canoodle Dum " and " Ellen McJones
Aberdeen " — these are fine enough per-
formances. One may become a little weary of
the formula, but the execution is admirable.

Another of Mr, Gilbert's tricks is to
extract fun from truthfulness and credulity.
In real life people lie, and disbelieve each
other ; in the land of Bab they accept
all statements. No sooner does Private
James inform General John that they were
changed at birth, than General John de-
grades himself to the ranks and elevates
Private James to the jiosition of commander ;
no sooner does Paley VollairG,who is bank-
rupt, make a similar remark to Frederick
West, than Frederick West hands him his
hard-earned savings.

Again, tenacity to life and respect for hfe
are the ruling jiassions of the normal man.
In Mr, Gilbert's world death becomes, there-
fore, a mere incident, whether of oneseK or
of another. When Gentle Alice Brown went
to confessional and admitted :

" I have helped mamma to steal a little kiddy

from its dad,
I've assisted dear papa in cutting up a little

lad,
I've planned a little burglary and forged a

httle cheque,
And slain a httle baby for the coral round its i

neck ; "

this is what happened :

"The worthy pastor heaved a sigh, and i

dropped a silent tear —
And said, ' You mustn't judge yourself too

heavily, my dear.
It's wrong to murder babies, httle corals for

to fleece ;
But sins like these one expiates at half-a-

crown apiece.

Jan. 8, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

• Girls ■will be girls — you're very young, and

flighty in your mind ;
Old heads upon young shoulders we must not

expect to lind.
We musn't be too hard upon their little

girlish tricks;
Let's see — five crimes at hslf-a-crown —

exactly twelve-and-six.'

'Oh, father,' little Alice cried, 'your kind-
ness makes me weep.

You do these little things for me so singularly
cheap.' "

But when Gentle Alice Brown went on to
say that she had seen a young man and had
winked at him, the pastor held out no hope
of forgiveness. He informed Brown pere,
and Brown pere arranged for the young
man's immediate removal. He said :

" I've studied human nature, and I know a

thing or two ;
Though a girl may fondly love a living gent,

as many do,
A feeling of disgust upon her senses then

wiUfall
When she looks upon his body chopped

particularly small."

All this would be very horrible if we looked
at it calmly, just as so much of that
American humour which jests at death
would bo horrible ; but we are not per-
mitted to be calm. Mr. Gilbert supplies the
right atmosphere — the laughing gas — with
with which to take his extravagance.

How the Bah Ballads will strike readers
who are now coming to them for the first
time, we cannot say. We suspect, however,
that their heyday is over. Taste in humour
has changed, and much that was funny
thirty years ago is funny no longer. Extra-
vagant fun, particularly, is out of date,
owing, probably, to the surfeit of it which
the enterprise of America has offered. The
humorist to-day is required to keep closer
to the fact. But for readers of an older
generation Bab has still strong attractions.

TEAVELS IN INDO-CHINA.

ti-om lonkin to India hy the Sources of the
Irawadi — Jamiary, ISdb-January, 1896. By
Prince Henri d'Orleans. Translated by
Hamley Bent, M.A. Illustrated by G.
Vuillier. (Methuen.)

Exiled royalties have the most difficult
position in the world to maintain with any
dignity ; they are frequently in the ex-
tremest condition of genteel poverty, and
even when this humiliation is spared them
— as it is spared to the House of Orleans —
their path lies along the very brink of the
ridiculous. Yet in this questionable emi-
nence, and, perhaps, by reason of the
pathetic irony in their surroundings, they
succeed frequently in producing picturesque
and taking characters. Prince Henri is a
singularly good example ; the very man to
have headed such a raid as Charles Edward's
in the " forty-five " ; an elegant figure of a
"Young Pretender." France denies him
a career ; he does not seek it (like the heir
of the Buonapartes) in Eussia's service ; but
the world is wide, and, like a young man

of spirit, he sets out to explore it, in the
interests of the country where his uncle
is stUl, to not a few adherents, " the king."
We have heard of him in Abyssinia ; but
this book relates an earlier adventure. In
January, 1895, he set out, accompanied by
M. Eoux, a naval lieutenant, and another
Frenchman— M. Briffaud — from Hanoi, in
Tonkin, to strike the Mekong Eiver, ex-
plore its course up to the Thibetan frontier,
and push west from there into Assam — in
short, to go overland from China to India,
skirting the borders of Upper Burmah, and
keeping south of Thibet. It was a stifE
piece of travel, but the French, so little dis-
posed to settle down in any new country,
have always been among the best explorers.
The book, to begin with, has a consider-
able scientific value. A very careful log,
with observations, was kept by M. Eoux, and
is published in an appendix. So is a list of
the natural history and botanical specimens
collected by Prince Henri, who, although
not a man of science himself, knows what to
bring home ; and perhaps the most interest-
ing of all his finds are the examples of Mosso
and Lolo MSS. reproduced in facsimile
with a translation. The Lolo, like the
Chinese, have separate characters for each
word ; the Mosso are picture writing. There
is, however, no explanation given of these
which is in the least adequate for the im-
initiated. All these scientific matters are
relegated to the appendices ; the book itself
is popular in style and intention ; and a very
readable, light-hearted narration it is, de-
scribing travel among the many peoples of
many speeches who fringe the Chinese
Empire. The queer folk and their queer
customs are diily chronicled ; but even
stranger, perhaps, is the glimpse into mission
life away far up here in the interior among
an imfriendly race with a government who
secretly incite to outrage. After months of
wandering along the Mekong, through great
tracts untraveUed by Europeans, the party
at last debouched upon the plain in which
lies Lake Erhai and the large town of TaU-
fou, the chief centre of commerce in Western
Yunnan.

" At the base of the hills, in stony chaos, lay
the cemetery — the town of the dead at the gate
of the living. We reached the river that forms
the outlet of the lake ; and here three routes
converged — the oue from the capital (Yunnan),
our own, and that from Burmah, called the
Ambassadors' Road. Along the last-named
stretched into the distance the posts of the new
telegraph line from Bhamo — the Future ; and
here, on the right bank of the river — the Past,
a grey loopholed wall, with battlements and
bastions crumbling to decay, vestiges of the
Mussulman war. It was dark by the time
we came to the gate of Tali : luckily, it had
not yet been closed. A tunnel led under the
ramparts, and, once inside, we asked to be
brought to the house of the French Father.
After a long detour, our gfuide stopped before a
dwelling and hailed loudly for admittance;
then, finding a side door open, entered. What
was our surprise to hear a feminine European
voice ! The owner at the same moment
appeared at the head of the staircase with a
companion, both dressed as Chinese, and dis-
closed herself as a young English lady."

She was the wife of the Protestant mis-
gionary. Prince Henri stayed for some time
with the French Father Legmlcher, and

heard later from him of the old persecutions,
when the Christians had to invent a private
dialect for use among themselves ("devil-
talk," the Chinese called it) and of the
secret society, " the United Brotherhood,"
which organised the persecutions. It cer-
tainly seems that mission work in China is
justified of its results ; any religion, indeed, is
an advance on the various forms of Chinese
superstition — for the purer forms of their
teaching have no hold on the people. Prince
Henri notes that the Houi-houi, or Mussul-
mans, are much better to have dealings with
than the other Chinese. But the Christians
whom the expedition took on from Tali —
seven of them — seem to have been real good
men, and the interpreter Joseph a treasure.
He was a youth who had been trained for
the priesthood, but feeling no vocation had
married and become a trader, but preserved
his knowledge of Latin ! In this tongue —
or some modification of it — did he and the
Prince hold communication through the
rocky Thibetan ranges and by the sources of
the Irawadi !

Of Yunnan, the slice of China which
France is likely to annex. Prince Henri
gives no very brilliant account. It
does not seem a rich country, though,
perhaps, if it were rid of mandarins and
their exactions prosperity might appear.
But, even on a Frenchman's showing, the
French system of colonial government is
not much more economical. Here is a
crucial example of what is likely to happen
in the Far East. Mong-tse is a considerable
Chinese town just beyond the French border ;
its trade should naturally come down the
Songhai to Haiphong ; but the freights and
dues are so high on the French water that
nine-tenths of the foreign trade, according
to Prince Henri, goes down the Si-kiang to
Canton and is in English hands. But when
France occupies Hainan — as she wiU cer-
tainly do — she will also occupy Pakhoi, a
port on the mainland opposite ; from Pakhoi
she will push up to the middle of Si-kiang,
and from that moment our trade with
Mongtse will be either cut off or desperately
hampered. It is not an agreeable prospect,
and it is only one of many such.

Except for the Christians, Prince Henri
says little good of any Chinese. It was a
relief to him to reach the Lissous, and other
tribes of the Thibetan border, where edicts
of the Tsung-li-Yamen hardly run ; but no
impression is stronger from reading this
book than the slackness of all ties in that
vast agglomeration of provinces. Even at
Tali people seemed scarcely aware that China
was then at war with Japan. The notion
of a united movement of the Yellow Eace
seems a mere nightmare. It is hardly con-
ceivable that China should ever grow
aggressive ; but it might prove a difficult
coimtry to subdue. Travel was nowhere easy ;
it was most difficult along the march west-
ward from the Mekong to Assam, across an
interminable series of clefts and chasms.
Indeed, at this point the expedition was
in grave danger of loss by starvation ; its
worst time came just at the end, after they left
the Khamtis, tie first people beyond the
border of Assam. It was with a sense of great
deliverance that they reached the outposts
of civilisation, and were cordially welcomed

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

by the English magistrate. This is how
our Eaj strikes a foreigner :

" Sadiya is the extreme north-east outpost
of the British Indian empire. Mr. Needham's
position is that of Assistant to the PoUtical
Service, and he is in supreme and sole charge.
He has passed twenty-eight years in India,
and exercises the functions of Resident, judge,
and commandant of the troops, of whom there
are one hundred under native officers. Another
five hundred sepoys could he summoned by
telegraph within twelve hours. In addition to
the importance involved by his relations with
the frontier tribes, he governs in and around
Sadiya more than 60,000 people. After thirteen
years spent in this district, he speaks besides
Hindustani: Bengali, Thai (of which he has
compiled a grammar), Singpho, Assamese,
Abor (also with a grammar in preparation), and
Mishmi. What an example to Prance of the
right man in the right place ! and what a
simpUfication of the world of vice-residents,
commis de residence, and chanceliers, aU engaged
in manipulating the papers which we deem
indispensable to the administration of a pro-
vince. Here one hand controls the whole. It
is true that he is well paid, and that after
thirty years' service he will be entitled to a
pension. He submits his claim for travelling
expenses, and it is discharged to him direct.
There is none of that system of mistrust to
which we are too prone. The English place
implicit confidence in the zeal of their officers
to work their hardest for the interests of their
empire."

The praise is frank, generous, and merited ;
and it is only fair to admit, what Prince
Henri insists on, that in the East we have
stepped into the heritage of Dupleix. In
how many quarters of the world has such
enterprise paved the way for the English to
enter in and complete the edifice ? Neither
under a monarchy nor under a republic has
France shaken off the curse of officialism. We
commend the book to many readers. The
pictures are lavish ; many are photographs
— some too obviously not : there is a rope
bridge whose top cable is drawn no thicker
than the other strands. The translation has
been done presumably by an Orientalist,
and should have been revised by someone
who knew, for instance, that " trompe "
means an elephant's tnmk. Mr. Bent
translates it " trumpet."

BIOGRAPHY IN LITTLE.

Philip II. of Spain. By Martin A. S. Hume.
Foreign Statesmen Series (MacmUlan
& Co.)

This is pre-eminently the age of the hand-
book. Our writers for the most part cannot
write -and their readers will not read — the
ponderous histories and treatises such as
their ancestors dealt in, and the modem
historian excels in the production of concise
monographs and biographies, of "Epochs of
History,'^ and the like. Such excellence is
by no means to be despised. The books are
usually accurate and scholarly. Often their
modest two hundred pages represent an
immense amount of independent research and
the consultation of many a neglected original
authority, as well as the "boiling down " of
all the old unmanageable tomes in which a
more leisurely age was wont to seek its in-

formation. Mr. Martin Hume's contribution
to Messrs. MacmiUan's " Foreign Statesmen
Series," Philip II. of Spain, is an admirable
example of this kind of work. Mr. Hume,
who is the editor of the Calendar of Spanish
State Papers of Mizaheth, is thoroughly master
of his subject. In the short space of some
two hundred and sixty pages he has brought
together an immense range of material. He
has gone to the original and unpublished
authorities in many cases for his facts, and
has succeeded in making his sketch at once
comprehensive and succinct. His view of
Philip is, on the whole, a favourable one,
though he is free from excessive par-
tiality. As we see him in these pages,
he stands before us as a gigantic failure,
his vast schemes all frustrated, his am-
bitions humbled. To many temperaments
he can never be a sympathetic fig^ire.
He is too cold and hard and calculating.
He lacks dash and brilliancy. His courage
is not conspicuous and his generosity infini-
tesimal; moreover, his reign is pre-eminently
stained with the atrocities of the Inquisition,
and that alone repels many who might
otherwise admire this cold, strong man. As
a statesman, too, he is disappointing, with
his incapacity for rapid decision and prompt
action. Mr. Hume allows all this, but at
the same time he dwells lovingly on his
higher qualities, and no one wUl put down
this book without a feeling of synqiathy and
pity for its subject. Here, if anywhere, was
a man whose epitaph might have been
the famous Miserrimus. The one defect of
Mr. Hume's book seems to us to lie in the
writing. The English is not always im-
peccable, and it is often slipshod. But much
may be forgiven its author for his wide
knowledge, his comprehensive sympathy,
and impartial weighing of authorities.

William the Silent. By Frederic Harrison.
(MacmiUan & Co.)

Mr. Feedeeic Hareison has not left the
world in ignorance as to his preference in
letters and character. Something of the
moralist, a little of the "friend of man"
and liberal philosopher, and a great deal of
the honest lover of plain courage and worth,
are apparent in all his writings. The
Puritan — a very enlightened and liberal
Puritan, to be sure — the uncompromising
hater of MachiaveUianism in every form, is
written so largely over his work that we
do not wonder at his turning to the history
of hopeless struggling against odds, and
men whose natures were of gi-ay, unadorned
simplicity.

The history of the rise of the Dutch
Eepublic has been popularised by the ex-
cellent and rhetorical Motley, and, indeed,
the bare fact is suificiently marvellous. It
is the tale of the wars of one man and a
little people against the greatest power of
the age. More, it is the narrative of the
formation of a nation from apparently hope-
less elements — a mere chaos of fanaticism
and narrow passions. " It was formed
without design," said "Voltaire, " and in the
end it belied all human forecast." And the
man who chiefly worked the marvel was
all his life unsuccessftil ; his record
seemed entirely of defeat; he was by no
means a great soldier, and his materials

forbade prosperous statesmanship ; at the
last he was murdered and ended an appa-
rently ineffectual life in what seemed the
blackest hour of all. And yet the founda-
tion had been laid, and his enemies even in
their hour of triumph had been irretrievably
defeated. The seven Northern provinces,
with the poor, hard, toil-worn populace,
had been endowed with the spirit of a
nation, and were on the eve of making
sounding history among the states of
Europe.

The whole life of the man is a series of
anomalies. Though undeniably brave, he
had no military genius, and he foimd him-
self pitted against the two greatest captains
of the age, Alva and Alexander of Parma, as
well as Don John, its most dashing soldier.
A certain measure of statecraft was un-
doubtedly his, but his diplomacy was less
subtle than ceaseless, and his contem-
poraries read him like a book. Yet he had
to play the game against a master of the
art like GranveUe, and attempt to treat
with Elizabeth and her wary ministers. He
was a Lutheran by the tradition of his
house, a Catholic by uiibringing, and he
ended by becoming a Calvinist — "I am now
bald and Calvinist," he writes, " and in that
faith will I die " — but it is certain that his
temper was very little that of the sectary.
Yet all his life he had to strive with re-
ligious fanaticism both in his own and in
the enemy's camp, and this calm and
reasonable man had to face the whole crazy
tribe of priests and pastors. And for what
end? This, indeed, is the crucial question
in the matter, and we can only g^ve a
hesitating answer. The whole rebellion
had an element of the fortuitous. We
may conceive him as a man of humane
and liberal feeling, with an honest
love for his people's welfare, protesting
against Spanish cruelty. Little by little
the chain of accident draws him deeper into
difficulties, till he is forced into assuming a
bolder front for his very manhood's sake.
Gradually as difficulties thicken he begins to
get sight of a great end — liberty of con-
science, civU freedom, national spirit — and his
soul is hardened to withstand. But it is
always a rebellion under protest ; he is " for
peace " if his foes are " inclined for battle,"
and his policy is slow, cautious, even
timorous at times. The key-note of the man's
character is a certain grave simplicity and
kindliness — which made him pardon his
would-be murderers and ask mercy even for
the assassin — and a certain freedom from
prejudice in all details of life. He is above
sectarianism, and he is not scrupulous about
his political morality. A lofty opportunism
lies at the base of his policy ; a spirit which
was highly necessary for such rough times,
and which, in spite of Mr. Harrison, it
the glory of the much-abused Florentine '
have fostered.

A comparison with his great contemporary, .
Henry IV. of France, inevitably presenti
itself. Both men had real greatness, bu
both had something homely and pedestria
in quality. Mr. Harrison draws an excel-i
lent picture of the Prince :

" His shabby dress, with a loose old gown and
a wooUeu vest showing through an unbuttonedil
doublet, was that of a poor student or a watar-i

Jan. 8, 1»98.]

THE ACADEMY.

man, and he freely consorted -with the burgesses
of that beer-brewing town (Delft). Yet in
conversing with him an English courtier admits
there was an outward passage of inward great-
ness. Now, at the age of fifty-one, he was
bald, worn with wrinkles, and furrowed with
ague and with sorrows ; the mouth seemed
looked with iron, the deep-set watchful eyes,
the look of strain and anxiety, give the sir of a
man at bay, who has staked his life and his
life's work."

Eanke gives a similar account of Henry, who
" preferred the hautboy and the bagpipe to
elaborate music, who would mix with the
common people at inns and fen-ies, and
loved dearly to chaffer with horse-jockeys at
country fairs." Both men had a sort of
scheme for" a Christian Republic, and both
cared little for the squabbling of rival creeds.
" If the Reformed opinions are false," wrote
William, " if the Catholic Faith be based on
eternal truth, their doctrines will melt away
in good time, like the snow before the sun " ;
which may be compared witli the opinion of
Henry, that a man might work out his
salvation in one religion as well as another.
These are the words of the great Laodicean,
and yet we need not say with Montaigne
that " religion ne les touche ni I'un ni
I'autre." William at least was essentially
devout, but after the fashion of the Samaritan
and not of the Levite.

Mr. Harrison has written a scholarly and
shrewd study of a great character. The
book is worthy of its place in an excellent
series.

A PROVOST OF ETON.

Sir Henri/ Woiton : a Biographical Sketch.
By Adolphus William Ward. (Constable. )

This is a book of a peculiarly irritating
type. It was open to Prof. Ward to treat
his subject in either of two ways. He
might have given us a work of research,
exhausting the available material for a Life
of Wotton, disinterring new facts, sifting
evidence, and establishing once for all the
authentic history of the man. This had
been the way of the scholar. Or, taking
some other point of view than Walton's —
some point of view less naive and more
self-conscious — ho might have drawn a
new portrait, created a new, or at least
a_ revised, conception of an unusually fas-
cinating personality. Tliis had been the
way of the critic. Possibly he might have
been felicitous enough to do both these
things. Actually he has not quite done
either of them. He has written a Monday
Popular Lecture for some provincial college
which hovers between the ideals suggested,
and falls short of both. There is scholar-
ship in the book. Prof. Ward has carefully
studied Walton's Life, the miscellaneous
papers printed in the Jteliquice Wottoniance,
and a good deal of illustrative matter bear-
ing on his subject. But he has not done his
work thoroughly : he has left many points
unexamined and many difficulties unsolved.
To take a single instance: "The precise
date of Wotton's death is not mentioned by
Walton, or in the dictionaries. It might
perhaps be ascertainable at Eton." Why,
then, did not Prof. Ward take steps to
ascertain it? We expect this kind of half-

baked work from an amateur, but surely
not from a professor. And if the exigencies
of the lecture-room made incompleteness
necessary, why publish ? On the other hand,
there is an attempt at criticism in the book
also. The contrasts, the paradoxes, of
Wotton's life, the double temperament in him
of the man of affairs and the philosophical
recluse ; these Prof. Ward sees, and seeing
would communicate his vision. Unfortu-
nately he has the heaviest of heavy hands in
these matters, and totally lacks that gift of
phrase without which verbal portraiture can
neither interest nor endure. His picture of
the man is true in its main outlines, but it
is wooden, cumbrous, lifeless ; and an in-
ferior portrait, to be hung as a pendant to
Walton's, stands but a poor chance.

On the whole, then, one fears that the
chief merit of Prof. Ward's book is, that it
recalls one to Walton, and to a subject
worthy of Walton's pen. Walton had
fraternised with Wotton over their common
friend. Dean Donne, in a Life of whom they
had agreed to collaborate. But Wotton
died before the book was written, and it fell
to Walton to complete it and to supplement
it by one of his intended colleague. It was
a congenial task, for Wotton's later years
had all the simplicities and the pieties
which were so attractive to the worthy
draper. Like Donne, he had somewhat
suddenly changed his whole manner of life.
He had been a courtier and a busy diploma-
tist. One of the secretaries of Essex, he
had escaped the fate of his unfortunate
fellow, Henry Cuffe, by a hasty flight.
Disguised as an Italian, imder the assumed
name of Ottavio Baldi, he had conveyed a
warning of intended assassination to James
VI. of Scotland from the Grand Duke of
Florence, together with a casket of anti-
dotes. When James became King of
England he had, though a Stuart, sufficient
gratitude to recall Wotton from his prac-
tical exile and to take him into his service.
Wotton was a persona grata at Venice, and
for many years he was permanent or
" leiger " ambassador in that city of historic
memories. He took a part in the disputes,
partly political, partly theological, between
the Republic and the Papacy, and was
vehemently attacked by that shameless
pamphleteer, Caspar Schioppius. Only once,
however, did Wotton give his enemies a
real handle, when with too ready epigram
he wrote in an album that "an ambassador
is a good man sent to lie abroad for the sake
of his country." Schioppius pretended to
take this as the serious doctrine of the
English Foreign Office, and Wotton had
some difficulty in making his peace with
James. At a later period Wotton became
famous for his chivalrous championship of
"the Queen of Hearts," the fair and ill-
fated Elizabeth of Bohemia, for whose sake
so many brave men went to ruin. It was
in her honour that Wotton wrote his
prettiest verses, those beginning, "Ye
meaner beauties of the night " ; and when he
left the Court of Ferdinand II. he gave
away a jewel presented to him by the
Emperor, " because he found in himself an
indisposition to be the better for any gift
that came from an enemy of his royal mis-
tress, the Queen of Bohemia."

About 1622 Wotton found himself out of
official employment and stranded with an
inconsiderable fortime. Ho thought him-
self happy to obtain, through the friend-
ship of Buckingham, the vacant Provost-
ship of Eton. The income was a poor
£100 a year; but on this he settled
down, took orders, wrote both prose and
poetry in a somewhat dilettante fashion,
leaving most of his writings unfinished ;
fished, enjoyed the friendship of Izaak
Walton and tlie Admirable Mr. John Hales,
and superintended the education of the
scholars of Eton like a virtuous and godly
gentleman. He lived until 1639, and when
seventy years of age wrote the following
pleasant idyll, which appears in the Com-
pleat Angler :

" And now all nature seemed in love ;
The lusty sap began to move ;
New juice did stir the embracing vines,
And birds had drawn their valen tines ;
The jealous trout, that low did lie.
Rose at a well-dissembled fly :
There stood my friend, with patient skill,
Attending of his trembling quill.
Already were the eaves possessed
With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest :
The groves already did rejoice
In Philomel's triumphing voice.
Ths showers were short, the weather mild,
The morning fresh, the evening smiled,
Joan takes her neat-rubbed ptiil, and now
She trips to milk the sand-red cow ;
Where, for some sturdy football swain,
Joan strokes a sillabub or twain.
The fields and gardens were beset
With tulip, crocus, violet ;
And now, though late, the modest rose
Did more than half a blush disclose.
Thus all look'd gay, all full of cheer,
To welcome the new-liveried year."

Wotton's verse is scanty in quantity, and
some of it is of no great account. Many
pieces, moreover, are ascribed to him on
somewhat imsatisfactory evidence. Prof.
Ward would take from him even the famous
epitaph, " On Sir Albertus Morton and his
Lady " :

" He first deceased. She for a little tried
To live without him : liked it not, and died."

In the following lines Wotton strikes a
wise and manly note, struck after him by
Wordsworth in the " Happy Warrior," and
at an earlier date by Vaughan, in a poem
called "Righteousness," which Woi-dsworth
must surely have known :

" How happy is he bom and taught
That serveth not another's will ;
Whose armour is his honest thought.
And simple truth his utmost skill ;

Who hath his life from rumours freed ;

Whose conscience is his strong retreat ;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

Nor ruin make oppressors great ;

Who God doth lat,e and early pray

More of His grace than gifts to lend ;
And entertains the harmless day.
With a religious book or friend.
This man is freed from strvile bands

Of hope to rise or fear to fall :
Lord of himself, though not of lands.
And, having nothing, yet hath tU."
It is a pleasant picture Walton draws of
the aged Wotton, with his books and his
Thames trout. Gladly he left courts and
cities for cloister and pasture.

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

BRIEFER MENTION.

Rowing. By E. C. Lehmann. (The Isth-
mian Library : A. D. Innes & Co.)

WITHIN the compass of some three
hundred and forty pages Mr. E. C.
Lehmann has compressed what is most
necessary to be known of the art of
rowing. His book is written primarily
for the novice, but it will be read with
equal pleasure by the finished oar ; for
though the instructions to the young
oarsman are very full and explicit, there
is much that will interest the expert
in the later chapters. Mr. Lehmann has
had the coUaboration of Mr. Guy Nickalls,
who writes on sculling ; of Mr. G. L. Dayis,
the famous Cambridge cox of the seventies,
who deals with steering ; and of Messrs. C.
M. Pitman on Oxford College rowing, W.
E. Crum on Eton rowing, and E. G. Black-
more on rowing in Australia. Mr. Lehmann
himself deals with rowing in America, a
subject which his recent experiences as coach
of the Harvard Eight specially fit him.
He is also responsible for the chapter on
rowing at Cambridge, and for the remarks
on the recent controversy on the health of
the oarsman. To the freshman and the
second year man at the Universities the
opening chapters on oarsmanship will be of
the greatest use ; and the coach in a small
college who often has to instruct others in
what he scarcely understands himself will
find his duties much simpler if he studies
the cautions and hints carefully before
getting into the stern of a tub. The two
chapters on training and racing also contain
many useful hints from Mr. Lehmann's ripe
experience. As much, moreover, wiU be
learned from the photographic illustrations
of good and bad positions in rowing with
which the text is weU furnished, and after
the awful example which faces page 50, a
round back should be an impossibility.
The book is very well Ulustrated with pho-
tographs, a most necessary precaution, as
few draughtsmen know how to row, or if
they do are singularly unfortunate in their
efforts to put that knowledge on paper.
The Isthmian Library Rowing may be
safely recommended to all those who row or
hope to row.

The Note-Booh of TVistram Risdon. Edited
by J, Dallas, F.L.S., and H. G. Porter.
(Elliot Stock.)

In 1714 the pirate Curll published the Choro-
graphical Description of Devon. This is the
common-place book of Eisdon, its author,
printed aiter a MS. existence of nearly 300
years. It contains several features of in-
terest to the heraldically inclined ; among
others, many coats-of-arms not to be found
elsewhere, and a correction of some early
descents in the Courtenay pedigree. A
few coats are given in facsimile of the
originals. If they are fair specimens of
the bulk of those tricked "by the Travail of
Tristr&m Eisdon, Gent.," it is certain that
the "travail" of the editors in deciphering
them must have been as painful as his own.
Although neighbouring counties are in-
cluded, most of the book is devoted to

Devonshire, in whose armorial roU meaner
escutcheons are glorified ^^^^^J^^^^;^ °*
those of Ealeigh, Drake, Gilbert and Gren-
viUe Here, too, occur the family names ot
the iudicious Hooker and the heraldic Up-
ton. Let it not be forgotten that Devon-
shire gave birth to the father of English
writers of blazon in Nicholas Upton, who in
the loud days of Henry VI. serenely wrote
of "heraldry, colours, and armouries, with
the duties of chivalry, whence our modem
writers have taken great light."

Analecta Ehoracensia. Collected by a Citizen
of York, Sir Thomas Widdrington, Knt.
Edited by the Eev. Csesar Caine, F.E.G.S.
(C. J. Clark.)

The writer of this book sulked about its
dedication, and his book appears 250 years
after time. Sir Thomas Widdrington, a
man of good lineage (he was descended
from the Northumbrian Widdringtons) was
Eecorder of York and many other things
under Charles I. and the Commonwealth,
and he offered to dedicate his book, the
fruit of several years of labour, to the
Mayor and Corporation of York. But the
Mayor and Corporation looked upon the book
as a stone for an eg^ ; and they sent Wid-
drington a pithy, peevish letter, telling him
in plain terms that " a good purse is more
useful to us than a long story," and hinting
that tomakethe Ouse navigable were a nobler
work than compiling history. Sir Thomas was
so chagrined that he forbade the publication
of his book. From that day to this it has
remained in MS., and historians of York,
like Drake, have arisen and helped them-
selves to Widdrington's facts, and said how
sorry they were, and passed on. Now,
when Widdrington's account of ancient York
is itself ancient, it is printed by subscription;
nor would the old knight — a self-seeking,
consequential little man by all accounts —
blush at sight of this handsome folio,
with its list of weighty subscribers and its
" process " illustrations. After all, he got
the "process blocks" by waiting. Wid-
drington was one of our earliest topographers,
and worked under many disadvantages ;
but he went to original documents, and
copied them without mistakes ; he was not
orderly. There we leave him. It is too
late to review a superseded history that was
ready for the press 250 years ago.

The Making of Abbotsford. By the Hon.
Mrs. MaxweU Scott. (A. & C. Black.)

In this handsome and well-printed book
Mrs. Maxwell Scott tells the story of her
home, and discourses pleasantly on several
incidents in Scots and French history. She
has little of the serious historian ; rather,
her essays are the gossip of a well-informed
woman with a love for the past, and some
genuine national enthusiasm. The book is,
of course, in no way propagandist, but it is
clearly written from the standpoint of a
religious party. The paper on "Mary
Stuart," which was originally published by
the Catholic Truth Society, is a pleasant
statement of one side of the case. Her
references are chiefly to violent Marians,
but it is strange to find no mention of
Froude, Sir John Skelton, M. PhiHppson,

and, above all, Mr. Swinburne. "The
Scots Guard in France," which is chiefly
a review of a book by Father Forbes-Leith,
adds nothing to the work of HiU Burton,
and Francisque-Michel. The few purely
antiquarian papers are, as a rule, too slight
to be of much value. Indeed, we like Mrs.
Maxwell Scott best when she merely tells a
good story, such as that of the Chevalier de
FeuqueroUes or the heroic Lady Nithsdale.

Prait Portraits : Sketched in a New England
Suburb. By Anna Fuller. (Putnam's.)

These little studies of New England life are
in the genre which the art of Miss Wilkins
has done so much to render illustrious. The
inspiration is the same, with its constant
effort to render fine qualities of the
human spirit among unpromising sur-
roundings ; and if the narrowness and
weariness of the life painted is more con-
spicuous, and its homely, remote beauty less
conspicuous than in Miss Wilkins's work,
that is, perhaps, partly a matter of tempera-
ment and partly because Miss Fuller writes
of New England, suburban and sophisticated,
Miss Wilkins of the simple village existence
of New England proper. Of the individual
stories, "Aunt Betsy's Photographs," "A
New England Quack," and "A Yankee
Quixote " strike us most. Aunt Betsy hag
her picture done "in front of the grape-
vine, her right hand in a black lace mitt,
reposing upon the wicket-gate, and her
voluminous skirts spreading on either
side." The sitting is a secret one, and
the dramatic production of the photo-
graphs in the family circle is the triumphant
moment of the poor flabby, oppressed lady's
life.

The Central Italian Painters of the Renaissance.
By Bernhard Berenson. (Putnams.)

This little study is a companion to the
earlier volumes on Florentine Painters and
Venetian Painters by which Mr. Beren-
son has already won golden opinions.
A fourth volume on North Italian
Painters will complete the series. Mr.
Berenson's intimate knowledge of tech-
nique, befitting a disciple of Signor Morelli,
together with his genuine critical gift,
make him a most delightful guide to the
study of Italian art. Moreover, he is an
original thinker, and his speculations as to
the psychology of esthetic enjoyment give
to his disquisitions a philosophical breadth
and interest. The Central Italian schools
are those of Siena, the Eomagna, and
Umbria, all of them largely influenced by
Florence, and Mr. Berenson finds in them
aU a common tendency to develop the " illus-
trative" rather than the " decorative" side
of painting ; to excel, that is to say, more in
the representation of ideas than in colour,
tone, form, or movement. To this common
quality individual artists add individual
qualities. Piero dei Franceschi has his
impersonality, Perugino his sense of space,
Eaphael his mastery of composition, m.
Berenson appends valuable index lists of the
works of a large number of painters, and
prefixes a reproduction of Eaphael's La
Donna Velata in the Pitti Gallery at
Florence. It is a practical and a highly
stimulating little book.

S\y. 8, 1898.]

^PHE ACADEMY.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 1898.

No. 1340, New Series.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

THE most interesting literary event of the
week is the publication in the Telegraph,
synchronously with the YoutKs Companion
in America, of Mr. Gladstone's recollections
of Arthur Henry HaUam. It is a sketch of
great beauty. As boys at Eton tliey were
Sie closest friends, bound by ties more
worthy and secure than schoolboys com-
monly are ; and biography is richer for
Mr. Gladstone's tribute. It is surely
a unique performance : an old man of
eighty-seven (the essay was written last
year) setting down luminously and power-
fully the praises of a friend who has been
Bisty-four years in the gi-ave !

We quote a few of the more easily separ-
ated passages :

"It is the simple truth that Arthur Henry
' HaUam was a spirit so exceptional, that every-
I thiug with which he was brought into relation
lUiiiug his shortened passage through this world
cuuni to be, through this contact, gloiifiod by a
touch of the ideal . . . Whether he possessed
tliu greatest genius I have ever known is a
i| icstiou which does not lie upon my path, and
\vlni;h I do not undertake to determine. It is
' • tlie man that I speak, and genius does not uf
If make tho man. When we deal with men,
^ tiius and character must be jointly taken into
view ; and tho relation between the two,
together with the eft'eot upcn tho aggregate, is
I infinitely variable. The towering position of
Shakespeare among poets does not of itself
afford a certain indication that he holds a place
c"inally high among men ... la this world
t hero is one unfailing test of the highest excel-
!• n«e: it is that tho man should be felt to be
gioater than his works. And in the case of
I Arthur Hallam all that knew him knew that
the work was transcended by the man."

tender ; the shrewd and impressive asides
on great and grave questions and issues ;
the incidental words of literary and general
criticism — all serve to make the essay im-
portant and memorable, and to lead us to
■wish that Mr. Gladstone oftener pursued
the reminiscent mood.

The literary partnership between tho late
Alphonse Daudet and Mr. E. H. Sherard
yielded a story which is shortly to bo
published in Mr. Sherard' s English transla-
tion. The original plan was for Baudot
to dictate and for Mr. Sherard subsequently
to elaborate. But tlio dictated matter was
so good and self-sufficient that Mr. Sherard
wisely left it as it stood. The story will be
called "My First Voyage: My First Lie."
It is a reminiscence of the author's boy-
hood.

Mb. Kipling, who, accompanied by his
family and Mr. J. Lockwood Kipling, sails
to-day in the Dimivgan Castle, intends to
make his triji to South Africa a complete
holiday from work. His forthcoming volume
of short stories is to be postponed from
the spring to the autumn of this year.

Me. Henley's Essay on "Burns: His
Life, Genius, and Achievement," which
appeared in the concluding volume of The
Centenary Burns, will shortly bo published
in a separate form by Messrs. Jack, of Edin-
burgh, at a sliiUing.

The glimpses of life at Eton seventy years

r^o; tlio friendly eulogy, at onco so warm

1 so reasonable, so unstinted and so

A NOVELIST in search of a good execution
scene — there is one excellently done in The
Gitdfly — will hnd one all ready to his liand
in a recent telegram from the Daily New>s
correspondent at Berlin. Five haiducks —
Servian robbers — were shot at Czaka a few
days ago. The two most notable were
Brkytsch and Woiko. This is how they
died :

" As tho procession pa'sed a house, at the
window of which Brktysch discovered a pretty
girl, he cried : ' Oh, women, women I It is
you who have brought mo to this.' Woiko
smiled, and conversed the whole way. Of a
high official he asked : ' Sir, do you think as
many people will attend your funeral ? ' Turn-
ing to the gendarme who sat next to him, he
said, ' Brother, do aim at the nipple of my loft
breast, so that I need not suffer so long.' It
was nine O'clock when tho execution groimd
was reached. Each of the haiducks was told to
alight, and to stand next to a post which was
erected by the grave destined to close over his
body. Woiko appeared quite lively, and kept
laugliing and joking. Brkytsch had boo me
senous and smoked a cigar, and the others i tood
silent and immovable as if they were alreidy
dead. Woiko's grave was close to that prepared
for Brkytsch. When he noticed this, be said to
him, ' Brother, don't be anxious. We shall
remain close to each other. We shall soon find
each other again' .... Woiko requested to be
allowed to die with open eyes, but he was
refused. ' Why are you blindfolding us ? ' he
said. ' When I killed men I did not first blind-
fold them.' The people were now forced back
by the gendarmes. Tho Prefect gave a sign,
tho captain fluurished his sword, the crack of
rillos sounded, and the five men were men no
more.

This is more than journalism, it ib literature.

To tho enterprise and industry of Mr.
C. M. Falconer, of Dundee, is due the
"Catalogue of a Lang Library"; which
does not mean a library conspicuous for
length, but one consisting entirely of the
works of Mr. Andrew Lang. For ten years
has Mr. Falconer worked, and he now has a
list mentioning 658 volumes, in which, in
some capacity or other, Mr. Lang figures.
Think of it, think of the industry it
implies — and Mr. Lang was once called
the Divine Amateur ! The divisions of the
Catalogue are five : books written by Mr.
Lang alone ; books written in collaboration
with others ; books edited or prefaced by
Mr. Lang ; books and magazines containing
contributions by Mr. Lang ; volumes con-
taining Mr. Lang's poems.

We have received from Mr. Jerome K.
Jerome a photograph of a Christmas card
which he has received from a band of
Russian admirers. It represents a view of
St. Petersburg surrounded by visiting cards
— one hundred and eleven in aU — and is
ascribed to Mr. Jerome, with the assurance
that other of his works are eagerly antici-
pated in translation by his friends in St.
Petersburg.

The recipient says : "To Eussia is a long
cry in many senses, and to be read and
liked in Eussia is not too common an honour
for an English writer. Madame JarintzofE
in sending the card writes me : ' Certainly
you understand that it would be simply
impossible to send you in that way the
expression of sympathj' from nil your
admirers in St. Petersburg ; if all of tliem
knew of the device and would be allowed to
join us — then surely there would be no
place for that Christmas card in your house !
As it is, I had j ust to mention about it among
our friends, and the idea instantly flew
through many circles, and reached the
theatres, and in a few days I received more
cards than I could use in trying not to be
too plump with our feelings. Please notice
that everyone knew the strict and inevitable
condition : perfect sincerity. You can see
from all this how right we were to tell you
in the summer that the moral success of
your books is enormous here ; all these
persons (and several hundred more in St.
Petersburg) have them and love them : not-
withstanding the general small amount of
bookbuyers with us.' I get so little honour
now [Mr. Jerome adds] from a certain class
of critic in my own coimtry tluit I may be
forgiven some gratification for my recog-
nition abroad."

By the way, the same writer's statement,
which has just appeared in the daily papers,
that he is in no way interested in a certain
forthcoming periodical, is one of the most
complete and emphatic denials we can
remember : " May I, Sir — not entirely in my
own interests — ask your assistance in coun-
teracting this falsehood ? I am neither
directly nor indirectly — not as proprietor in
whole or in part— not as editor nor as cin-
tributor — not even as well-wisher, concerned
witli any such venture,"

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

An English lady is reported to be now at
work in tlie Vatican Library, busily engaged
in seeking corroboration of the theory that
Dante was acquainted with the Venerable
Bede's Latin version of the legend of the
Irish saint Fursey, wherein a suggestion
of the idea of the Divine Comedy is to be
found. The lady has already written an
essay on the supposed influence on Dante by
the Irish legend, upon which Mr. Gladstone
has thus commented : " It is indeed of great
interest, and the presumptions you raise
appear to be important. Dante's being
acquainted with a remote local saint, such
as Bede, is of itself remarkable, and if it
was due to his studying in England, as I am
inclined to believe he did, then Engla.nd
may have furnished the thread which
brought into his view the root idea of his
poem." Very little would be gained by
proving any such dependence. A man's in
spiration is nothing- ^= ^'

his work is everything.

Mr. Jacobs' s . Many Cargoes and The
Skipper's Wooing are to be added to the
Tauchnitz Library. Meanwhile, Mr. Jacobs
has, it is said, decided not to resign his
position in the Post Office, a step which his
Uterary friends are alleged, very unwisely,
to have iirged upon him. Instead, he will
continue to endure what the Bookman calls
" the sober routine of a Government Office."
A number of busy literary men, it might be
remarked, manage to endure it very easily.

A Literary Zoo !

So really clever, too ! , , , ^ ^,

Ah, what ghostly authors shudder from the

' shelves that once they knew !
In the alcoves that the sometime Literary

Lights invaded
Now the plagiaristic monkey thinks he does

as well as they did,
And the Unenlightened Publishers assemble

here to gaze
While the anaconda swallows imdiscrimina-

ting praise! "

In honour of the Star's tenth birthday,
which will be celebrated on the 17th inst.,
Mr. Conan Doyle has written a story,
entitled "The Confession," for which Mr.
Marcus Stone has made illustrations. To
find Mr. Marcus Stone again acting as
illustrator carries the mind back to days
long past.

Mr. Anthony Hope's lecturing tour in
America has been so successful -that he is
postponing his return. MeanwhUe Mr.
Marion Crawford is beginning a lecturing
tour through the Southern and Middle
States, which will occupy him until May.
Another lecturer leaves our own shores for
America in a few days — Mr. Le Gallienne.

with the unction which some of his recent
novels drew forth, nor is it by the average
reader considered quite in his best manner.
Yet America has offered it a very warm
welcome. The Boston Glohe says : " Like
Lorna Boone, it is worth reading many times
over, and the older it gets the more popular it
is likely to become. The story is tremuloua
with human emotions, described as only a
master can pourtray them." The Chicago
Tribune says : " Every page must bo read
and savoured for itself. Every line shows a
compression and a polish that makes it
glitter and flash a new light from a new
facet every time the mind turns it over."
We are the more glad to find Mr. Black-
more's new story so popular in America,
since we could not give it very high praise
ourselves.

The late Sir Edward Augustus Bond,
Sir Maunde Thompson's predecessor as
Principal Librarian of the British Museum,
survived his receipt of the distinction of
K.C.B. only a few days. It is curious that
one of the last scholars selected for honour
by Her Majesty — the late Sir John Skelton,
whose knighthood came with the Diamond
Jubilee — died also within a week of its con-
ferment. The late Sir Edward Bond married
a daughter of " Thomas Ingoldsby."

The first number of L' Enfant Terrible is
probably now in the hands of expectant
Americans. The editors, it seems, are
known as Governors, and the office is called
the Nursery. One of the Nursery Eules
says: "No one not duly appointed an
Honorary Infant shall be allowed to con-
tribute, except on pajrment of the usual
space rates (ten dollars per column)."
Among the contents of No. 1 is the story of
the Winchester Eepeating Hen, which seems
to promise entertainment.

The following story of the late Lord
Tennyson may or may not be true ; but it is
good enough, merely as a flight of pure fancy,
to stand. In company with a few friends,
says a correspondent of the Telegraph, the
Poet Laureate one day entered a public
reading-room and sat down in a large arm-
chair before the fire. Much to the amaze-
ment of the other occupants of the room, he
then proceeded to elevate his feet untH they
rested on the chimney-piece in the fashion
we are led to believe is " real American."
No expostulations on the part of his friends
respecting the inelegance of the position
were of the slightest avail. Suddenly a
brilliant inspiration seized one of them —
the father of one of our leading actors of
to-day. Going close to Lord Tennyson, he
whispered in his ear, " Take your feet down,
or they'U mistake you for Longfellow." In
an instant the poet's boots were on the floor,
and he assumed the ordinary position of an
Englishman.

Apropos of difference of opinion, " A. E. T."
writes : " The following from to-day's
Observer is an amusing instance of that kind
of summary criticism to which Browning
once attributed the retardation of his own
acceptance with the public :

' New Poems. By Francis Thomson. [Con-
stable). — A collection of verses of only mediocre
pretensions. It is dedicated to the late Mr.
Coventry Patmore, but the disciple lingers
longa intervaUo behind his revered master.'

It is not easy to conceive the class of
reader for which guidance of this character
is intended."

" The transformation of the old Boston
Public Library into a menagerie has called
forth verse from Mr. Gelett Burgess, of
L'Enfant Terrible, two stanzas of which
follow :

"A Literary Zoo 1
A Spectacle to view !
Boston used to keep them private, but now

they'll roar for you.
Now they name 'em and they tame 'em, and

they shame 'em and they brand 'em,
And ill spite of guttural dialect, a child can

understand 'em.
Hore'g a Panther with a Purpose and a

Problematic Tail.
An 1 mt-k these neat poetic feet ! Au educated

tniii:

The American Bookman for January gives
its usual returns of the most popular books
in the States. It is interesting to note that
those fine novels. The Choir Invisible and
The Kentuckians, are in high favour. The
popularity of Quo Vadis with American
readers is at last on the wane ; but only,
it would appear, after it has been read by
an enormous section of the American read-
ing public. The different appeals which
this Polish author's novel has made to
English and American readers is surely not
a little curious and suggestive. We happen
to know that the sale of Quo Vadis in this
country has amounted to about 4,000 copies.
Whereas in America 100,000 copies have
been sold.

American opinion of books often upsets
that of England. In this country Mr.
Blackmore's Dariel has not been reviewed

Another correspondent — Mr. C. GifEard —
writes: "During my reading of the last
Weekly Sun — a luminary in whose rays I
frequently bask when the other is obscure-
it seemed to rain cats and dogs. I may be
wrong, but one of the latter looked some-
thing of a ' howler.' ' We hardly know
whether to regard De la Motte Fouque's
[without the accent] Undine (MacmiLlan &
Co.) as an allegory pure and simple or as a
fairy tale. . . . The author's literary style
reaches a high level of excellence, and joy
and pathos are artistically blended in the
narrative.' Shades of die Romantische Schule !
— but perhaps the Weekly Sun is only
playing upon our press-cutting agencies."

Finance, the new weekly paper devoted to
money matters, makes a very creditable
appearance. It has everything handsome
about it, from its deep -red cover to its
headings and initials. A special feature of
" No. 1, Vol I.," is a series of three articles,
entitled " Other People's Opinions." These
are contributed by Sir Edwin Arnold, Mr.
Jerome K. Jerome, and Mr. I. Zangwill.
Sir Edwin likes money ; and will not hear
it abused. He even blesses the millionaire :

" I should no more grudge his luxuries and
splendours to such useful servants of the
sublime History of Man than I should grudge
to the upland lake its golden-spotted trout, its
tranquillity, and the colours of heaven upon
its elevated breast. Allans/ marchons ! then;
Gentlemen of the High and Low Finance!
with the varied and stupendous industries of
your calling ! Make money — si possis, rede .
Start mighty enterprises ! Estabhsh companiw •
Exploit the earth, which is our leasehold
estate ! Pierce isthmuses '. Tunnel under
mountains I Bridge the baffled seas with swift-

Jan. 8, 1896.]

THE ACADEMY.

jeled ships ! If it be money, and the pursuit
■ money, which does all these things— so long
i it does them honestly— I say let Finance
X lawful as eating ! ' "

Mk. Jerome, being, according to the
itest biographical dictionary, "the founder
E the New Humour," ascends the pulpit :

" You [the Financiers] have rewritten the
iW8 : You shall live by the sweat of other
leu's brows. The earth is yours and the
iluess thereof. You toU not neither do you
jiu (unless you call the fevered dice-thrower a
toiler'), yet Solomon in all his glory was not
trayod like you — nay, nor his wives either,
'ou have prepared a new gospel for your-
flves. How long do you think its statutes
ill standi-"

miUion, sayB the Critic, instead of twelve
hundred, not one of them would have given
this line. Nothing could be farther fetched.

Mk. Zangwill is less exclamatory and
lore argumentative than his coadjutors,
ie points out that, according to recent
liblical scholars, the notion that the Bible
jenounces usury and interest is founded on

misprint. Be this as it may :

{ " The Church has long since abandoned its

bjection to the breedmg of money by money,

lid has even, I believe, investments of its own.

lit I cannot help thinking that the old

iclesiastical objection to money and financial

Derations stiU lingers on in a transformed

lape in many modern minds equally narrow.

hese poetic or aristocratic spirits do not see

at the international financiers are keeping the

e-blood of the world circulating, and that

e millennium of peace and brotherhood is

ore likely to come through the Bourses than

irough aU the religions. The interest every

)pulation has in every other is a great pacifi-

.tory force when passions rage, and the profits

ay achieve what the prophets may have

' iled in. Not that this necessarily persuades

to do homage to the great god Per Cent.

it it is for the philosopher to recognise the

ace of everything in life, and then — put it in

I plioe. There is the Stock Exchange now,

much-abused institution in more senses than

le. If people unite their capitals in big

idertakings, there must be shares, and a

, edium for negotiating them. That this pro-

des an opportunity for gamblers is an un-

rtimate consequence, but it can no more be

ilped than the unpleasantly - exaggerated

'■ ' ity of that wind which normally moves

'lips."

,na, to bo sure, it is his spare cash that
Iman spends on literature ; and if he is to
spare cash, he must have much cash.
ill stand or faU together.

I' HE New York Life seems to have been

\N :!dering its readers almost to distraction

''• 'd literary puzzle. A prize of 100 dols.

ifferod to the lucky guesser of the line

.mes by Longfellow illustrated by a

Jcture of an old gentlemen in armour,

lling, in front of his soldiers, over flowers

^■ewn before him by women in mediaeval

' 'nme. More than three-quarters of all

iiesses sent in quoted lines from " The

Jiiry of Bruges" and " Coplas de Man-

tjue." Nothing could have been more

itural. And nothing could have been

i.)re absurd than to intend the picture

t illustrate the line from " Morituri Salu-

tnus " :

' ['or age is opportunity, no less than youth
itself."

i\ the number of guesses had been twelve

Literary London : its Lights and Comedies,
by Mr. W. P. Ryan, will be published by
Mr. Leonard Smithers this month. The
volume deals with most of the prominent
authors and schools of the day, and contains
articles and satires on such subjects as
"The Great Young Man and the New Style
of Literary History," " The New Doom of
Narcisstis," "The DevU. and a Modern
Knight-Errant," "A Lunar Elopement:
the Key to Allen Gaunt's Defection," " The
Passing of the Poets," " The FUght from
the Paineyard."

Last week we said a word on Mr. Conan
Doyle as a poet. There is another popular
prose writer who occasionally plays with
verse, and does it sometimes exceedingly
well. We refer to Mr. Barry Pain, the
author of the satirical comments signed
Tompkins in the Chronicle of a Saturday.
Often they display merely a keen, if mor-
dant, humour, an intimate knowledge of
Cockney dialect, and a true sense of rhythm :
but on Saturday last Mr. Pain, it seems to
us, achieved something finer. In the follow-
ing poem there is a certain imoommon grim
force, which prevails in spite of the slang
setting :

"At Midnight.

" ' Ninety-sev'n,' the beU is syin', tollin', slow,
' Orf yer go,
'Arf-a-moment's aU that's left yer — 'arf-
a-mo,

Doncher know ?
'Arf-a-moment and you're dead,'
Says the big bell overhead,
' And 'Iteen-ninety-ite tikes on the show —
Orf yer go.'

Do yer 'ear the bell a-callin', ' Ninety-ite,

Ninety-ite !
Tike the ribbons of the cheriot of fite

Thet won't wite
While the 'orses gallop fast
Through the midnight dawk an' vast,
Snatch the ribbons from the dead 'ands of
yer mite,

Ninety-ite ! '

Whort's ahead ? The driver speaks not. All
is still.

Dark and chill.
And the 'orses gallop forrud with a will.

Dam the hill.
And the big bells as was swingin',
An' so jooberlantly ringin',
A myster'us silence keep ;
And the world drops off ter sleep
As 'e drives us dam the steep.
Whort's ahead ? Won't no one teU us— good
or iU ? . . .

All is stni."

Recent rearrangements and additions in
the South Kensington Museum include
another Old English Room, which has been
set up in the Western Arcade of the South
Court by the side of the " Inlaid Room "
from Sizergh Castle. The new specimen is
from an old house, now pulled down, at
Bromley-by-Bow, belonging to the early
years of King James I. The spacious stone
fireplace has over it an elaborate mantel-
piece in oak with the Royal Arms very
boldly carved. The ceiling bears in the

centre the same arms with the initials I.R.,
and is covered with fine strapwork ornament,
having floral enrichments and medallions
containing heads of ancient warriors.
Specimens of furniture of the period have
been taken from the museum and arranged
in the room in order to give it a furnished
aspect.

The arrangement of two rooms in the
Cross Gallery connecting the Indian Section
and Science Collections has now been com-
pleted. The first room on descending the
staircase is devoted, for the most part, to
Cairene art. In the second room are textile
fabrics and embroideries from various parts
of the Turkish Empire. On the ground
floor of the Indian Section an important
addition has been made to the plaster casts
by a collection of ornamental details from
the palace of the gToat Akbar, at Fathpur
Sikri, near Agra.

Mb. Vernon Blackburn's T%e Fringe of
an Art : Appreciations in Music, will be
published by the Unicom Press on February
15. It will contain portraits of Mozart,
Berlioz, Gounod, and Tschaikovsky. Mr.
Blackburn is musical critic of the Pall Mall
Gazette.

Sport in the Highlands of Kashmir, by Mr. H.
Z. Darrah, is a new volume to be published
almost immediately by Mr. Rowland Ward,
of Piccadilly, London.

News from Paris states that Lieutenant
Julien Viaud has a holiday from service,
which — under his better-known name, Pierre
Loti — he proposes to use in seeking material
for a new book.

By permission of the Council of the
Church House, four performances of the
Rev. Henry CressweU's ecclesiastical drama,
"The Conversion of England," will take
place in the Great Hall of the Church
House, Westminster, on Saturday, January
15, at 2.30 p.m., and on Monday, Tues-
day and Wednesday, January 17, 18, and
19, at 8 p.m.

Messrs. Swan Sonnenschein & Co. an-
nounce for early publication a translation of
^Education a Port Royal, being extracts
from the writers of Port Royal, on the
theory and practice of education, selected by
the late M. Felix Cadet, Inspector-General
of Public Instruction in France, with an
introduction by the compiler.

The Life of Joseph Arch, M.P., edited,
with a preface, by the Countess of Warwick,
will be published immediately by Messrs.
Hutchinson. Mr. Arch himself tells the story
of his life, but Lady Warwick has prepared
the book for publication, and has con-
tributed a preface, in which she reviews at
some length the history of the Union which
Mr. Arch founded, and the position of the
agricultural labourer at the present day.
Mr. Arch is a Warwickshire man, and lives
within a few miles of Warwick Castle,

I'm ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

THE ACADEMY'S AWARDS
TO AUTHORS.

In reference to our intention to "crown"
two books of signal merit published during
1897, we sent the following communication
to certain men of letters who have been in
touch with the literature of 1897 :

"The proprietor of the Academy having
decided to set apart sums of One Hundred
Guineas and Fifty Guineas as awards to the
authors of books of signal merit pubUshed
during 1897, the Editor asks your kind assist-
ance in selecting the recipients. He will esteem
it a favour if you will write on enclosed post-
card the titles and authors of two or three
books belonging to the period named, which
are, in your opinion, most worthy of being
' crowned.' "

Below are a few of the replies already
received. We shall announce our decision
next week :

Mr. Andrew Lang suggests that the following
books might be suitably " crowned":

Tlie Song Book of Bethia Hardacrc. By
Mrs. Fuller Maitland.

The King With Two Faces. By Miss
M. E. Coleridge.

Admirah All. By Henry Nowbolt.

Mr. James Payn writes :

Among the best books of fiction published
in 1897 are— by weU-known authors:

The Tragedy of the Korosel.

In Kedar's Ihits.
And by new-comers :

Manij Cargoes.

Deborah of Tod^s.

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED

Mr. Clement K. Shorter writes :

Samuel Eawson Gardiner's Jlistory of the
Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1651-
1654.
William Butler Yeats's The Secret Rose.

Mr. I. Zangwill names the following books :

The Will to Believe. By Prof. William
James.

What Maisie Knew. By Henry James.

The Nigger of the ' ' Narcissus. ' ' By Joseph
Conrad.

The Painters of Central Italy. By Bern-
hard Berenson.

Mr. Edmund Gosse writes :

Works by the forty members of your
"Academy" being obviously excluded
from consideration, my vote would be
given thus :

One Hundred Guineas to Mr. Arthur
Symons for his Studies in Two Litera-
tures.

Fifty Guineas to Iklr. Frederic G. Kenyon
for his edition of Bacchylides.

[We have not restricted our awards in the
way Mr. Gosse supposes.]

Mr. W. L. Courtney suggests :

The Diary of Master William Silence, by
Chancellor D. H. Madden, as being the
most illuminative bit of dramatic criti-
cism which we have had for years, as
well as the most definitive answer to
the Baconian theory regarding Shake-
speare's works. The novel I should
suggest would be The School for Saitits.

Dr. W. Robertson Nicoll writes :

Mr. D. H. Fleming's Mary Queen of Scots
deals with a theme of perennial
interest ; is derived direct from the
sources ; and no error has been pointed
out by any critic so far as I know. It
must always be considered and referred
to by every student of the subject. I
venture to think it belongs to the class
of books the Academy should honour.

Mr. W. Davenport Adams writes : — I shoidd

give my vote for :
The Memoir of Lord Tennyson.
The Coming of Love. By Theodore Watts-

Dunton.
The School for Saints. By John Oliver

Hobbes.
Admirals All. By Henry Newbolt.

Mr. Hugh Chisholm, editor of the St. James's

Gazette, makes the following suggestions :

One hundred guineas to Mr. David

Hannay for his Short History of the

Navy ; or, to Mr. William Ernest Henley

for his " Burns."

Fifty guineas to Mr. Henry Newbolt for

his Admirals All; or, to Mr. W. Alison

Phillips for his History of the Greek

War of Independence.

Dr. Eichard Garnett sends the following

list of eligible books :
The Life and Letters of Benjamin Jowett.

By Evelyn Abbott and Lewis Campbell.
Impressions of South Africa. By James

Bryce.
The Hope of the World. By William

Watson.
The Secret Rose. By W. B. Yeats.

Mr. H. G. Wells writes :

Henley & Henderson's edition of Burns
is the sort of book that particularly
deserves "crowning" — a magnificent
performance of the utmost value to
English literature, and not a very
remunerative one to its authors. Mr.
Henry James's What Maisie Knew rscnks
next, perhaps. The Nigger of the
" Narcissus " is, to my mind, the most
striking piece of imaginative work, in
prose, this year has produced. Captains
Courageous I couldn't read by reason
of the illustrations ; so I know nothing
thorO')f.

HI.— LORD TENNYSON.

It would bo useless to deny tliat however
noisy, vulgar, and impertinent may be the
newspaper post-mortem, it is uniformly
successful in laying bare the weaknesses of
its subject. Enmity and scandal soon lose
their power if there is no element of truth
for them to work on. Lt)rd Tennyson did
not fully recognise this. He only saw that
after death a man's reputation has to go
through a grim and savage ordeal, as likely
as not to " shrivel it up like a cabbage," and
having hated publicity all his life, the
greatest terror death held for him was that
it would be no longer possible to fence off
the prying journalist and the gossip-monger.
"The newspapers will get hold of mo at
kst," he exclaimed sorrowfully, wlien taken
with his final illness. It is, tliorefore, with
a sense of relief that we find his reputation
emerging unsullied from the discussion to
which his death and subsequent biography
gave rise. Of other great men of the
century, Scott alone passed tlirough tho
ordeal as well. His popularity never
received a check. From Carlyle downwards
the rest of them have seemed to dwindle
and recede as soon as life was out.

The parallel does not end here. Like
Scott, Tennyson had no dark spot or mystery
in his life to whet a vicious curiosity. Hii-
biography is that of a tranquil and refined
English gentleman who, in early life, fixed
his ambition on a certain object and reso-
lutely pursued it. lie has written no idyl
more beautiful than the story of his owi
quest from the time when the wizard

"... found me at sumise
Sleeping, and woke me
And learned mo Magic,"

tiU that fine ending in which the ancien
sage, gazing frankly and fearlessly over th
very edge of life, finds the light of i>oetr,
shining even on the valley of the shadow o
death : —

" And so to the land's

Last limit I came —

And can no longer,

But die rejoicing.

For thro' the Magic

Of Him the Mighty

Who taught me in childhood.

There on the border

Of boundless Ocean,

And all but in Heaven

Hovers the Gleam."

In any attempt to picture the troubled ai
yet splendid nineteenth century a conspicuoi
place must be given to his great and majest
figure, ever intent on his chosen art, ai
yet eagerly interested in every intelleotu
movement of the day ; listening attentive
to the voices that had anything to say, y
led by none from his own path ; looking
life with his own eyes and reflecting it ml
independent art. Something, too, of th
golden atmosphere which constitutes t
charm of his verse hovered about his p(
sonality. The glamour must have be
great indeed that evoked not only t

Jan. 8, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

respect but the warm and personal love of
so many great minds, that bewitched
Thackeray and Carlyle, Edward FitzGerald
and Spedding, Mr. Gladstone, and the late
Mr. Palgrave. Nor was his life altogether
so sunny and enviable as to justify those
who, like M. Taine, di-ew a sharp contrast
between the opulent peer and the unfortu-
nate race of bards whose lot too often is like
that of Alfred de Musset in his garret or
Bums at the ploughtail. On the contrary,
he had crosses and tribulations enough
to win our sjonpathy. Prosperity did
not come tiU he had reached middle-age.
For long enough he had to encounter jjublic
indifference and hostile criticism. "A bar-
barous people" were "blind to the magic
and deaf to the melody." As he put it in
homelier words, ' ' the mass of Englishmen
have as much notion of poetry as I have of
fox-hunting." Yet this is not quite an
accurate statement to make of a race that
has produced an unequalled literature.
Wordsworth was probably nearer the truth
when he asserted that every great poet must
educate and form his own audience. The
disciple or imitator steps into a place ready-
made for him ; the original man has to
overcome old prejudices and win adherents
to his new convention. It was not till many
years after Tennyson had produced some of
his best work that he came to be generally
recognised.

All this may be said, however, and a
doubt still remain as to whether Tennyson
is entitled to that high place in literature
claimed for him by liis contemporaries. In
reading his son's biography, no one can
help being struck with the indiscriminating
character of their eulogy. Everything men-
tioned seems to be looked upon as a
masterpiece by some person of authority.
As often as not the result is to make
one wonder how bad the criticism of
a great writer may be. We are
told that " Spedding, a first-rate Shake-
spearian scholar, George Henry Lewes,
and George Eliot admired his plays."
The last-mentioned wrote to Mr. Cross :
" Tennyson's dramas are such as the world
should be glad of — and would be if there had
been no pre-judgment that he could not
write a drama." A great deal more, and
with deeper emphasis, has been written to
! the same effect. It can be very well under-
stood when it comes from a great Shake-
spearean scholar. In drama alone did Tenny-
son allow liimself to become an echo and no
voice. It would be slaying the slain to
insist upon the point. Time has gradually
been sapping the work of those critics who
used to enlarge uiron his dramatic capacity,
and it is apparent that here, at least, is
failure. Nor was the failure accidental ; it
was the doom of his temperament. He had
not that gift of imagining human beings
acting under all conditions of light and
shade that Shakespeare had to perfection,
and that Scott among moderns possessed
most highly. If we are to arrive at any
true estimate of his work we must begin by
flinging tlie plays overboard.

Again, we doubt if tlie popular ' ' Idylls of
the liing" have any enduring quality, save it
be in the case of the first and last of them, the
rich and magnificent " Passing? of Arthur."

Even at their first publication Mr. Euskin,
Edward FitzGerald, and many of the choicer
minds, found something amiss. Their effect
on the crowd was partly due to the strange-
ness and romance of the period in which
they were set ; but since then King Arthur
ancl his knights have become familiar
through numerous editions of Malory. It
has become apparent to the dullest that
Lord Tennyson foil below his model in so
far as he tried to render the clash of arms
and the romance characteristic of that old
world, while his allegory sits badly on the
characters, and is not sufficiently trans-
parent for readers whose taste for this
kind of writing has been formed on
John Bunyan. Nor will his excellent style
save the Idylls. There is nothing more
changeable in literature than the fashion of
narrative stylo. Let anyone who doubts it
compare three translations of Homer, each
of which seems to have fulfilled the require-
ments of its day — Chapman's, Pope's, and
Butcher and Lang's Odyssey. Here the
identical story is told, but how the language
of each is varied to suit its generation ! If
it be true — as no doubt it is — that Lord
Tennyson has refined the old stories till they
lost life and colour, and that he has loaded
them with a heavier moral than they can
carry, then their endurance has but a feeble
guarantee in a quality depending on the
fickle caprices of taste.

But our poet is so opident, that a great
body of splendid work remains, even after
the Plays and the Idylls have been laid aside.
"In Memoriam " offers a surer foothold
than either. Judged, not so much as a
tribute to the memory of his dear and
gifted friend Arthur Hallam, but as a
book of elegies dealing with the elemental
mysteries of life and the swaying of an
utterly just and candid mind between faith
and doubt, they reflect as nothing else does
the spiritual struggles of his time ; and the
recognition of obstacles is so full, the inclina-
tion of his mind to the higher view so reason-
able, that it wins the sympathy of all, the
approval of a vast majority. No doubt, it
is conceivable that the twentieth century
may develop a different mood and a different
attitude. On a lower plane. Lord Tennyson
himself saw something of the kind happen
to another poet. When he, a boy of four-
teen, was carving "Byron is dead " on tlie
sandstone rock at Somersby, the most acute
minds of the time were convinced that
Byron had vindicated his claim to a place
beside Shakespeare. But the point of
view was already beginning to shift. New
streams of life and thought were breaking
on the nineteenth century, and to the
young generation Byron made no appeal.
That this could be so did not dawn even on
the clear mind of a Goethe. The mood of
rebellion of which Byron was spokesman
was not insular ; it flushed the entire
thought of Europe, and who coidd tell how
fleeting and transient it Tvas ? Those of us
who have found consolation and spiritual
sustenance in the pages of " In Memoriam "
cannot see any inherent defect that will
make it of less comfort to those who are
stricken with grief and doubt a hundred
years hence ; but wo know that the thought
of the moralist " waxeth old, as doth a

garment," and there are spiritual needs to
which only a contemporary can minister.
How much even of a Jeremy Taylor falls
meaningless on ears that have listened to a
Darwin and a Renan ! Much there is in the
elegies eternally true ; but much, too, that
may well prove transient.

As often happens, it was not in his most
ambitious, but in his simpler work that the
poet achieved his most indisputable success :
in those little country idyls that he always
spelt with one I, to distinguish them from
the "Idylls of the King." The light did not
lead him astray when it fell on

" Silent river,
Silvery willow,
Pasture and plowlaud,
Innocent maidens,
Gan-ulous children,
Homestead and harvest,
Reaper and gleaner,
And rough-ruddy faces,
Of lowly labour."

When Carlyle first read " The Grandmother "
it is said that tears ran down his cheeks, and
he could say nothing but "Poor old body!
Poor old body! " It would be difficult to
imagine a finer tribute to this wonderful
picture of old age. But many of the other
Lincolnshire pieces done at or before the same
period are equally good : " The Northern
Farmer," "Locksley HaU," "The May
Queen," "The Brook" and "Dora." Tomen-
tion the names is to point to literature that has
passed into the life and being of England.
It must not be thought, however, that [
suggest that his charm depends on locality.
On the contrary, it is at its highest, I
consider, in " The Lotos Eaters," which for
finish, melody, and consistency is second to
no work that he has done, is scarcely second
to anything of its kind anywhere.

And it is this inimitable charm — " the
golden atmosphere," as Carlyle named it —
that constitutes Tennyson's unique distinc-
tion. In his time the wells of romance that
had been closed during the materialistic
eighteenth century were re-opened. What
the reader of to-day finds lacking not only
in Pope and Dryden and Addison, but in
Fielding, Defoe, Smollett, Johnson, and the
rest, is the fulness of vision that sees a
human action or a human character not only
as a definite material fact, but as standing
against a background of endless possibility,
endless emotion, endless pathos. This is
what Carlyle meant by liis infinities, eternal
veracities, and so forth. He shook people
out of their materialism, but going too far
on the other side he drove them away from
himself by over-emphasis and exaggeration.
He did not realise, or could not apply, the
truth finely expressed by Robert Browning,
" nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh
helps soul." Tennyson, on the other hand,
was keenly alive to the nineteenth century
awakening of spirit, but he was artist
enough not to insist unduly upon it. One
perceives that his mind was saturated with
the feeling, but it is all suggested rather
than expressed ; it does not come out in set
expression, but in fine, inexplicable cliarui.
The quality is akin to what we find both in
Homer and Shakespeare, but only it is
modified and changed by modem ideas ; it
is the very poetry of to-day.

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

Quite as much as in the pieces we
have mentioned this intensely modem
note is felt in the little snatches of song
scattered through his longer poems. They
are not aU equal. In Tennyson two
natures are always contending for mastery,
and the struggle does not invariably produce
an equilibrium. There is the almost
too gentle and sensitive spirit he inherited
from his mother tempting him ever mto
sentimentaHty, as in his "Home they
brought her warrior dead," a song that
had a great vogue once, but already is worn
threadbare. There is also the sterner and
stronger temperament that came from his
father, accounting for passages in " The
Vision of Sin" which seem to suggest that
there was in Tennyson the possibihty of
grimmer work. But this combination of ten-
derness and strength formed no bad equip-
ment for a poet when the two were blended and
working in equipoise. Even then an immortal
song is produced only at a fortunate hour.
We feel occasionally, as FitzGerald said of
the "Princess" lyrics, that the foam is gone
from the champagne. And they are like
pictures : you must live with them a long
time before being quite sure that they
deserve adding to the world's list of master-
pieces. I could not very well explain why
" Blow, Bugle, Blow ! " loses its savour while
" Sweet and Low " retains it; why " Break,
Break, Break" seems to gain and "Tears,
Idle Tears" to lose in charm. The best
songs are very few in number, and a slight
apparent difference distinguishes the mortal
from the immortal.

These lyrics are of a kind peculiarly
modem, and such as have only been written
by Tennyson and him "who sang to one
clear harp on divers strings." The best of
them are not love-lyrics in the old sense,
but bits of philosophy set against this back-
ground to which aQusion has already been
made. In those of Goethe one finds a
wider, clearer, colder outlook on the universe,
but Tennyson's are suffused with deeper
emotion. The imagination of the former is
at its best when bringing the whole of
existence within focus of a little song ; that
of the latter is rich in magic and illustration.
Indeed, in that respect Tennyson is without a
rival. Of many possible examples it will be
sufficient to give one taken not from a
song, but from the epilogue to "Tiresias,"
where he bewails the fact that " Old Fitz,"
to whom the poem was dedicated, was dead
ore he received it. The passage has always
appealed to me as illustrating what Prof.
Palgrave called the "medioeratas aurea of
Tennyson " :

" The tolling of his funeral bell
Broke on my Pagan Paradise,
And mixt the dream of classic times,
And all the phantoms of the dream,
With present grief, and made the rhymes
That missed his living welcome seem
Like would-be guests an hour too late,
Who down the highway, moving on
With easy laughter, And the gate
Is bolted and the Master gone."

It was by passages such as this, the
exquisite lyric " To Sleep ! " in " The
Foresters," and "Crossing the Bar," that
Lord Tennyson showed that his mind kept
opening and growing to the very last.

There was a period when, unkno^ to
himself, " the light retreated, the landskip
darkened." All those secondary Lincoln-
shire studies, "The Northern Cobbler,
"The Sisters," "The ViUage Wife,
" The Spinster's Sweet-Arts," and " SiJcty
Years After," are written without the
Tennysonian chai-m. He had in them
lost touch of his atmosphere and his fancy.
Yet the great work that accompanied them
showed it to be only a temporary and
accidental lapse. There is no one period of
his life wherein his good work was done ; it
is sown all along his sixty years of labour.
Without denying the very great merit of
his other work, I think, however, that his
strongest claim to immortality lies in the
songs and the idyls with one ?.

At starting it was my intention to discuss
at some length his treatment of nature, but
I have outrun the constable in the matter of
space; and, besides, another "reputation"
will afford an opportunity to enter upon
that subject. -P-

MILLAIS AT BURLINGTON HOUSE.

Sir John Milla.is was young during the
whole of the time when he was joyously
passing through his phases, contemptuous
of the phase just left behind, as a child of
ten scorns his achievement at eight, or as
any one of the growing centuries despised
the work of its predecessor. The century
just dying is old because it admires the
past ; and Millais ceased to be young when
he — painting with an emancipated and
triumphant hand — stopped to admire, be-
cause the world was resolved to admire, the
intense, intent, and constrained work of
1849 and 1850. There seldom was so con-
sistently changing, so intolerant, so honest,
or so long a youth as his. In 1861, when
he had begun to paint in what is called his
second manner, he wished that he could but
get his pre-Eaphaelite pictures into his own
altered hands, that he might tear them in
pieces. It was a hearty wish. But he could
not then buy them back to mend his repu-
tation ; and the owners (not yet very proud
of their possessions — they no doubt called
them " quaint ") kept them until their day of
popularity came at last. But though Millais
got hold of none of his old pictures to
destroy them, he borrowed all he could to
repaint them. He did not spare his earlier
work, having a vivacious and healthy dislike
of it. That dislike might not be particularly
healthy in others, but in him it was a sign
of health and of life. Therefore, it is with
mixed feelings that we see the proofs of an
e&ectuaX pentimento in "The Vale of Rest."
The nun who is sitting by whUe the lay-
sister digs the grave received a new face ;
and something of the same kind may possibly
have befallen the children in "Autumn
Leaves." For the faces are exceedingly
beautiful, whereas our fathers complained
of the ugliness of these girls. The
figures are Primitive, but the faces — two
of them, certainly — belong to the quickly
altering period of "The Ransom" and
"Trust Me." This, however, is not so
certain an incident as that of the intolerant

refitting of the nun. Millais' nun, in fact,
was like a solid doll mended with a new

head. _ _ j

As to this famous picture last-named, it ii'
more than usually mingled work : it has one
of the best skies in the whole collection, and
the painting of the tree that standi
against the lightest part of the after-sunsei
sky is beautiful ; there is, as it were
lighted air between our eyes and these
sprinkled leaves. In colour the upper par
of the picture has beauty, but is the colou:
of the white head-dresses in the cool shadow
less shadows of evening a beautiful studj'
of white? It seems to our eyes greatlj
lacking in tenderness, delicacy, and sweet
ness, nor is there much mystery hen
in any colour. The execution, too, i
painty. But the picture is an imaginative
one and a sincere ; it is the rather naif worl
of a simple-minded working painter who i
inspired by his literary friends. These nuns
by the way, seem to have by some mean
broken into an English Protestant church
yard full of an 1830 kind of gravestones
tablets for the express purpose of recordinj
names and virtues — a "Low Church" church
yard in strongly English provincial taste, b
a modem country town. Nuns lie unde
thin crosses, or without anything excej
their moxmds, and do not wear thei
names even in the seclusion undergrounc
" Ophelia " is the next picture of eque
fame. It is six years' earlier work (1852
than " The Vale of Rest " as this was befor
the partial repainting. And surely a
obvious help to the study of a painter wh
was all things, not by tum so much as b|
passage, would have been the chronologic!
hanging of these collected pictures. N
such order has been observed, but it he
not been neglected for the sake (
dodging the discords of colour, whic
occur here and there. The "Ophelia
has always been famous for the beauty (
its flower-painting. A landscape, howeve
is not a flower-piece, and assuredly this ros'
bush in flower is not a landscape-painter
work. The green leaves must have bee
painted in the studio, for no open-air leave
ever wore this green ; but the equally opt
roses — a very equal republic of roses, e
out — are most ambiguous. The painter h
contrived to fill them — wherever painted-
with rich light, but you must rifle them
find it; at any reasonable distance the wi,
rose-bush is quite dim and cold. It is muc
the same with the flowers in the hands
the floating figure ; but what is really fi:
in the picture is the painting of the fac
Here, and in "The BUnd Girl," the h.
bmsh, the sweetness, and the essential a: .
fundamental finish, have produced a surf a i
far more like that of Velazquez than Milla
work when he set himself to do sou
Velazquez "on purpose." A little furth".
on, the "Joan of Arc" helps us to decii
what was Millais' perfectly duU time- J
was about 1864, when the "Joan of Ar< '
was painted; and 1880— when the m^
picture, " Miss Alcyone Stepney," \<S
painted — was a day of success claimed f
every touch of an easy hand; some of tj
accessories — hair and lace especially — intp
portrait are masterly. As for the "Bht
Brunswicker" (1860), it was painted wl^

1" Jan. 8, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

the Primitive time was over and remem-
bered with, great uneasiness and shame,
when the sentimentality of the painter
, expressed itself, free from the constraining
! inspiration of early friends, and when
MiUais became exceedingly popular. The
parting of these rather uninteresting lovers
divides the interest of the picture with the
white satin dress, of which it seems strange,
j perhaps, to say that it is not beautifidly
i painted, seeing that one is compelled to own
i that it is very Uke white satin.
I To our mind the test picture of these few
! transitionary years is "The Ransom" (1861).
I There are passages of this work that force
' us to caU this particular transition a
fine one ; the hands, the hair of the
children, all the surfaces of the garments
in the middle and left of the picture, are not
leas than magnificent. The drama, indeed,
is too obvious even for this obvious manner
' of painting incidents in suspense ; the
painter insists and insists that we shall see
i how the robbers are hesitating to take the
[ knight's treasure because he betrays his
' anguish of desire to get his children back ;
but the action of one of the little girls with
her arm stretched up over the father's
mailed arm is more really dramatic than
anything MiUais achieved in the expression
of attitude.

I Among the chief early pictures are
'"Christ in the House of His Parents,"
I "Autumn Leaves," and " Sir Isumbras at the
Ford." The first is perhaps the principal and
I the most famous of MiUais' Primitive or
j Pre-Raphaelite works. It has something
[more of affectation (to speak plainly) than
j is inevitable in work forced into the ways of
other men and other times ; the conception
I of the picture is excessively deUberate and
self-conscious, and deUberate are also the
I actions of the figures ; but the boy-Christ is
lan exquisite child, a figure in which sim-
Iplicity wins; it is wonderfuUy painted,
moreover.

j "Autumn Leaves" is the work of a true
colourist, and its sky, if not all that it
ought to be, is fairly atmospheric, and
'has some beauty. This faint praise has
Ito he denied to the utterly duU landscapes,
jfrom " ChiU October" downwards, in which
jthe skies have no Uf e, no Ught, no intention,
no imity, no movement, no repose. The
|truth should be told that MiUais' skies are
miserable. " Sir Isumbras " belongs to the
Primitive period, and has strong beauties.
'\Vhy, one wonders, did they in the middle-
jCentury smile at this " plum-coloured" horse?
There is no visible plum-colour now, but a
'fair enough black. Was it not at the
painting of this picture, by the way, that
Mr. Ruskin, seeing the Primitive inspira-
{tion weakening, broke off finally in his
braise of MiUais, crying, "This is not a
!faU, but a catastrophe ! " Three years earlier
'Mr. Ruskin himself had sat for the deUcately
beautiful portrait in the same room. The
pyes of the young critic watching the young
irtiat, through whom he so desired to
oamt his own wUl and his own way, must
lave been keen to descry decline in " Sir
f sumbras " ; but who shaU say that it had
lot set in so soon as in 1857, seeing that
'leven more years landed Millais in the
lepth he had reached — undone, degraded,

undistinguished — when he painted the por-
trait of a chUd in the Water-colour Room —
" Lily, Daughter of J. Noble, Esq" ? Even
the drawing — and MUlais' drawing is
generally excessively and subtly beautiful
and searching — had fallen into wretched
ruin in the face of this vulgarised
chUd.

But, again, what a draughtsman was
MiUais, whenever the year was not 1864
or thereabouts ! How his drawing turns,
how it grasps and holds, lingers and finishes
and chisels ! And how beautiful it is !
See "The Bishop of Manchester," the ex-
quisitely drawn mouth of the John Bright
portrait, and the weU-constructed hands in a
score of portraits. See, too, the portrait of
Mr. Gladstone, which has masterly Unes;
and the head of Trelawney in the " North-
West Passage." That quality of drawing,
which had given to his primitive work a
value nothing wiU ever lessen, did not
forsake him again, when, in later Ufe, he
had recovered it.

And yet this later work has, in general,
no cheering effect upon a MiUais-lover,
gathered thus as it is at Burlington House,
in a mass. For the display and flagrancy
of the portraits of fashionable middle-aged
women MiUais had not enough distinction
of mind, enough style. He did not deal with
them grandly. He had courage, but not
a grand courage. He had not the gravity
that can present an extravagant stout dress
with dignity ; and he painted extravagant
stout dresses on defiant women by the
score.

In " Hearts are Trumps " the heads are
admirably painted, and f uU of essential life ;
the picture is one of MiUais' masterpieces,
and yet " is it style " ? A grasp at style is
made in the large gray silk dresses — a reso-
lute grasp. Well, in the heads it is attained;
but there is something lacking in aU the de-
liberate rush of labour with which that silk
is executed ; we grow tired of it under the
table. A great painter would not have
wearied us with it even there. Then there
are the landscapes — it is impossible not to
refer to them again. They are not only
ugly, but insipid ; and there is hardly any
possible covering of the same space of wall
that one would not rather look at than
" Dew-drenched Furze," for example.

Perhaps the greater number of the por-
traits of men painted in late years are
MUlais' finest work. They have not more
dignity than nature, but they have extra-
ordinary power, character, freedom, know-
ledge, security, and ease, and if not inteUect,
a most uncommon inteUigence. Next to
these is the beauty, here and there, of a
child's hair and flesh painted with the
freshness he loved; for, having painted
many things, he owned that he rested upon
one thing with unaltered deUght — the
mingled colour in the middle of a chUd's
or a woman's cheek.

THE BOOK MARKET.

BOOK SALES OF 1897.

The end of a year is as much a time for
retrospection as it is for a natural indulgence
in hope for the year to come. Even for the
book-collector or the bookseUer this is true ;
and so, on the eve of a new year, let us see
what the year that has just gone has done
for either of these specidators in the world
of letters. A satisfactory consideration of
this subject would demand the inclusion
not only of the regular auction sales, but of
all the catalogues of the chief bookseUers ;
and as this is practicaUy impossible, let us
restrict ourselves to the more important
pubUc sales, and let us see what conclusions
are to be drawn from them.

At once we are met with a sale for which
the year 1897 must always remain distin-
guished— the Ashbumham Sale. So far,
only two portions of the late Earl's magnifi-
cent Ubrary have been disposed. But those
two portions are in themselves sufiicient to
establish an event in the annals of biblio-
mania. Eight days in Jime and July and
six days in December sufficed to distribute
some thousands of lots, which realised the
enormous sum of nearly £50,000 — a sum
which must represent a substantial advance
on the price paid for the books originaUy.
No doubt the volumes were in good condi-
tion, and the Hbrary was one of the few
private libraries in the country which was
held in high esteem by those who can judge
of what rare books are. But these con-
siderations are not in themselves sufficient
to account for the almost phenomenal sums
paid. We can but surmise that our
American cousins, infatuated with a desire
to possess Ashbumham books, must have
given commissioners carte blanche. Only by
such an explanation can we understand the
giving of £1,050 for a " BibUa Pauperum,"
which fetched £36 15s. the last time it was sold;
or £147 for a pamphlet of nine leaves from the
press of Machlinia ; or £106 for an imperfect
copy of the first edition of Shelton's transla-
tion of " Don Quixote " ; or £81 for Gawin
Douglas's " Palis of Honoure " ; or £390
for Laudonniere's "Foure Voyages unto
Florida "; or £2,100 for Le Fevre's " Lyf of
Jason " (Caxton, c. 1477) — the very copy for
which Payne the bookseUer gave £87 at
Heber's sale ; or £760 for " Les Prophecies
de Merlin," even though it be bound
by Le Monnier; or £41 for a six-leaved
tract containing a " metrical declaration
of the Paternoster." The truth is, such
prices represent the final stage of the
bibUomaniac, and may, in no sense, be
taken as market prices. It may almost be
prophesied that these books when next they
come " under the hammer " wUlfind a much
soberer reception than they received at
Messrs. Sotheby's rooms this year.

It is when we come to examine such sales
as those of the Ubraries of Beresford R.
Hope, Esq., Hon. Ashley Ponsonby (the
Bessborough OoUection), Sir OecU Domville,
H. W. Bruton, Esq., M. C. Scott, Esq.,
and J. J. Farquharson, Esq., that we arrive
at material wliich should help us to legiti-
mate conclusions. Not that these were

THE ACADEMY.

[Jas. 8, 1898.

ordinary collections ; by no means. But
they were treated with a calm judgment and
a business-like attention, which is the rule.
Sensation is the exception ; and if sensation
form good " copy" for the reporter, it must
be avoided when we require a guide as to
the future. The Bessborough Collection
contained a fine assortment of extra-illus-
trated books, and these fetched good prices.
The Bruton Lilirary consisted wholly of
books and illustrations referring to Cruik-
shank, and tlie prices were by no means
insignificant. Mr. Scott's library was rich
in Australasian books, and particularly in
Tasmanian newspapers ; and for such there
is always a good demand. Other libraries
included some fine specimens of eighteenth-
century French works illustrated by such
famous book illustrators as Eisen, Moreau,
Marillier, and Cochin ; many very rare
early gardening book ; nnd a few of the
scarcer first editions of w^rks illustrated by
William Blake. To appreciate properly the
prices paid for the illustrated editions of such
works as Dorat's " Fables Nouvelles" (£30
and £72) ; Dorat's " Les Baisers " (£20 10s.
and £55 13s.); La Fontaine's "Contes et
NouveUes" (£16 10s., £31, and £51);
Montesquieu's " Le Temple de Guide "
(£18 10s. and £46) ; Le Sage's "Le Diable
Boiteux" (£31); "Daphnis et Chloe"
(£35 10s. and £41); and Erasmus's
" L'Eloge de la Folie " (£22 10s.), we must
remember that the illustrations, which form
the real value of these works, are in the
finest " states." Fine impressions of the
plates and fine condition of the books make
tlie collector's heart to expand — it is not
long before his purse opens. That early
gardening books fetch such high prices is to
be explained on the ground of their great
rarity. Most of them, we notice, were
bought either by Mr. Zaehnsdorf or Mr.
Quaritch. Here are a few: "EinBlumen-
buch" (1616), £25 10s. ; Hill's " Gardener's
Labyrinth" (1586), £10; Alamanni's "La
Coltivatione," £14; "Flower Garden Dis-
played" (1734), £13 15s.

However much the market may fluctuate
with regard to Continental books or tem-
porary fads, or privately printed works, the
Englishman is always true to his own.
Thus it is that the rare editions of English
classics are always sure to fetch good prices.
And thus it is that good sporting books,
provided they are rare, of course, always are
certain of respectful attention.

Shakespeare and Milton, Defoe and
Sterne, Goldsmith and Johnson, Bums and
BjTon, Shelley and Keats are names to
conjure with when first editions are about.
Then it not a matter for surprise when we
see the " Merchant of Venice " bring £315 ;
"Paradise Lost," £80; " Lycidas," £60;
"Eobinson Crusoe," £45 10s.; "Moll
Flanders," £10 15s.; "Sentimental Journey,"
£22; "Tristram Shandy," £20 10s.;
Haunch of Venison," £35 ; " Vicar of
Wakefield," £60 ; " Poems " (Kihnamock),
£80 and £86 ; " St. Irvyne," £16 10s. ; and
"Zastrozzi," £15 15s.

That great sporting artist, Henry Aiken,
seems destined to remain at the head of
his class. His " Angling Sports," "Sport-
ing Ideas," and " National Sports," which
realised £9, £18 lOs., and £30, always

maintain a good average. The Badminton
Library " large papers " are still in vogue,
and the volumes on " Hunting " and
"Shooting" still command many times their
original prices. This year a copy of the
former brought £30 and a copy of the
latter £ 1 5.

But early books are things of the past.
What may we collect of the things of the
present, to judge from the sales of this
bygone year? Undoubtedly, first editions
of Mr. Kipling, and possibly of Robert Louis
Ste'wenson. We are not quite sure of the
latter, although his juvenile writings are
realising ridiculous sums: "Pentland Ris-
ing" (£13); "Familiar Epistles" 1896
(£3 18s.) ; Edinburgh University Magazine
for 1871 (£11 Ss.) ; "On the Thermal
Lifluence of Forests " (£14). Mr. Kipling's
works, however, are bringing in more and
more as the months go by. Two years ago
we could purchase, at any bookseller who
had a copy of it, his " Departmental Ditties"
for £5; now the auctioneer obtains £16 from
a bookseller. The magazine " Quartette "
continues to be much sought for, and lately
was sold for £12. Even the shilling
Allahabad editions of his short stories now
command £1, £2, and even £2 68.

From all that we have recorded and
discussed, it is easy to see that the rage for
rare books is by no means soothed. The
passion to have what others have not is as
strong, if not stronger, now than ever it
was. But if we are to indulge our passions,
let us, at any rate, consider carefully before
the fit seizes us. And let us, if we are
lovers of good literature, buy the first
editions of the classical writers ; if we are
sporting men, let us collect the illustrated
works of Aiken and others, especially
those with coloured illustrations ; if we are
amateurs — using that word in its best sense —
let us acquire good states of the illustra-
tions of French eighteenth century masters ;
if we are millionaires, let us go in for
incunahala, Soree, and hand - painted and
illuminated Missals. Otherwise we shall
have much, but shall have gained little.
Let us also think of early-printed books
with woodcuts, for of a surety these will
remain worth their price. But let us never
buy extra - illustrated books without ex-
amining the illustrations ; and, above all,
let us never extra-illustrate books ourselves,
unless we have not only the elixir of life,
but the philosopher's stone as well. Satis-
fied we never shall be, even though we be
as wise as Solon, or as rich as Croesus, or
as patient as Diogenes. Life is too short
for this labour. Far better to attempt the
" higher faking " of a Walton's " Angler."
That, at any rate, can have an end.

T. S.

THE BITTER
HAND

CRY OF A SECOND-
BOOKSELLER.

The preceding article wiU give little
pleasure to a certain London second-hand
bookseller, of good standing, who expressed
himself very freely the other day to an
Academy representative. The subject of
the conversation was the state of the

second-hand book trade. Said the book-
seller sadly: "It is miserable compared
with what it was twenty years ago."

"How do you account for the decline you
speak of?"

" There are many causes; but the greatest
to my mind is the publication of the prices
of books, current in the sale rooms, in annual
volumes. There are two such volumes, as
you know."

" Will you explain ? "
"Certainly. Here am I, a second-hand
bookseller ; my success depends largely on
my inner knowledge of the values of books,
juat as a furrier's knowledge depends on his
knowledge of the values of furs. But
whereas the furrier is able to keep his
knowledge to himself, mine is all printed
in a book and distributed to the public.
Naturally a great part of my knowledge has
been picked up by constant attendanee at the
sale rooms, wliich means time, which means
money ; and by speculations and experi-
ments, which also mean monej*. Then
comes a ' chiel amang us, takin' notes.'
Yes, and ' faith, he'll prent it.' Now,
these annual volimiea of current book prices
are easily compiled. A clerk at fifteen
shillings a week could take down the prices
from the lips of the last bidder. It is
easily done. But what is the effect ? My
secrets become everybody's. My knowledge
is imparted to my customers. Is tliis the
case in any other business ? I don't want
to charge an unfair price for a book, but I
do want to fix its price myself. And I say
that unless I am allowed to do this elemen-
tary thing I cannot prosper. Another
thing : these publications send my customers
direct to the sale rooms."

"Where, however, you can 'run prices
up.' "

" Yes ; but there's no satisfaction in that.
The multiplication of private bidders neces-
sarily spoils trade."

" Have you thought of a remedy ? "
" The remedy is plain, but I fear we shall
never get it. It is cohesion among second-
hand booksellers."

" Is there none now ? "
" None whatever."

" Well, suppose you cohere ; what next? '
" Then we should publish our own ' book
prices ' at 2s. a copy, and limit its circula-'
tion strictly to the trade. That would kil'
the existing publications."
" But would it ? "

" Oh, yes. They thrive now mainly oi
booksellers, who foolishly allow private
bidders to consult these works. The privat
bidders are not numerous enough of them
selves to support such expensive works."

"I see. Then your point is that ther
are enough private bidders and too-know
ing customers to spoil business, but not s
many that you could not defeat them b
the plan you suggest."
" That is my point."
" And you really consider, not as a matt*
of inference only, but as a matter of sho
experience, that the publication of currei
book prices is hurtful to your trade ? "
" It is ruining it."

Jan. 8, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

THE WEEK.

PUBLISHING is languid, after the
holidays, and the arrivals are very
miscellaneous. With the issue of Northanger
\hhey and Persuasion in their series of
Standard Novels," Messrs. Macmillan
junplete their edition of Jane Austen's
')vels. Mr. Austin Dobson has contributed
1 introduction to each volume, and none
:3tter than the one which we find here.
he peculiar fate which overtook the MS,
if Miss Austen's earliest effort is narrated
ly Mr. Dobson as follows :

"Even at this distance of time, the genuine
ivotee of Jane Austen must be conscious of

futile, but irresistible, desire to ' feel the
imps ' of that Boeotian bookseller of Bath
ho— having bought the MS. of Northanger
bhey for the base price of ten pounds —
; trained from putting it before the world.
,'hat can have been the phrenological con-
jtions of a man who coidd remain insensible

I such a sentence as this, the third in the
|)ok: 'Her father was a clergyman, without

iing neglected, or poor, and a very respectable
Jan, though his name was Richard — and he

id never been handsome.' That the sentence

IS an afterthought in the proof cannot be
•ntended, for Northanger Abbey was published
;sthumously, and ' the curious eyes, that saw
]e manner in the f*ca,' had long been closed
;:der a black slab in Winchester Cathedral.
jily two suppositions are possible — one, that
jr. BuU, of the Circulating Library at Bath
i Sfr. Bull it were) was constitutionally
jiensiblo to the charms of that master-speU
jiich Mrs. Slipslop calls ' ironing' ; the other,
jat he was an impenitent and irreclaimable
liherent of the author of the Mysteries of

lolpho. The latter is the more natural con-

jision. Nothing else can explain his sup-
ession for so long a period of Miss
isten's ' copy ' — the scene of which, by
e way, was largely laid in Bath itself. He

II infatuated with Mrs. Badclilfe, and Mrs.
jidoliffe's following: the Necromancer of the

nek Forest, the Orphan of the Rhine, the Mid-
\lht Bell, the Vastle of Wolfenhach, and all the
•it of those wor.hipful masterpieces which
]ibplla Thorpe, in chap vi., proposes for
te d-leotation of Catherine Morlaud, and the
^aeral note of which Crttbbe (on^ remembers
ii»8 Austen's leaning to that favourite poet)
(ticipates so aptly in The Library :

fHence ye profane ! I feel a former dread,
A thousand visions float around my head :
Hark ! hollow blasts through empty courts

resound,
Vud shadowy forms with staring eyes stalk

round.'
It whatever be the solution, the fact remains."

Theee comes to hand a volume of more
I less humorous verse by "Ironquill,"
eeoted and arranged by J. A. Hammerton.
jho is " Ironquill " ? Here is part of the
rawer furnished by Mr. Hammerton :

' The name of ' Ironquill,' though known to
fue in America, and famliar as a household
^rd in the Transmissouri, has yet to gain in
feat Britain that reputation it has so deservedly
<ju beyond the Western wav.i. . . . Most
faericans who know ' Ironquill' know that he
^aone other than the Honourable Eugene P.
Vire, of Topeka, Kansas, who, to use the words

the
his

Mr. Ware is an eminent attorney, and
verses are the fruitful occupation of
leisure."

" Ironquill" is now introduced to English
readers as the typical poetic product of
Kansas. The verses in this volume are
very various. Here are two stanzas from
"TheFlopper":

" Bill was a combination of despondencv and
hope ;

At times he grew gregarious, at times he used
to mope.

There wasn't any office that he thought he

couldu't fill ;
He looked at eich new ism, and embraced it

with a wiU.

He entered all new parties. He pioneered

new creeds.
He ran for sheriff, theu he flopped to register

of deeds.
And then he tried for probate judge— but

none of it would work ;
He tried to be a minister, then flopped to

postal clerk.

"Ironquill's" Americanisms of style and
spelling have been retained throughout the
book.

By s. H.
I2s. 6d.
Longmans, Grean

By John

Mr. E. Farquharson Sharp's Bictiomry
of English Authors is biographical and
bibliographical. "In the case of each
author the essential facts in his career are
stated as briefly as is practicable, followed
by as complete as possible a list of the first
editions of his works, arranged chrono-
logicaUy."

A Bibliography of British Municipal His-
tory has been compiled by Mr. Charles
Gross, assistant Professor of History at
Harvard University. Incidentally, the
author states that " the British Museum
has the largest collection of works relating
to municipal history, including many
valuable MSS. " ; but he adds that it does
not possess more than three-quarters of the
whole body of topographical books relating
to Great Britain. Mr. Gross's volume runs
to more than 450 large octavo pages.

A NEW "Double Section" of the New
English Dictionary is issued by the Clarendon
Press. It has been compiled by Mr. Henry
Bradley, and embraces Frank-Law — Fyz,
and G — Gain-coming.

NEW BOOKS EECEIVED.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

The New Testament of Jesue^ ; ob, TaBisra' Compilitioh

OP Selected Passages. Williams & Norgate.
The Latest Fruit is the Ripest. By Frederick James

Gant. Digby, Long & Co. Is. 6d.
The Staeless Caowif, Aifo Oihie Poehs. By J. L. H.

Elliot Stock. 28. 6d.
Winning the Socl, and Otheb Ssbmons, By Rev. Alex.

Martin, M.A- Hodder & Stoughton.
Logos : Cheist-Ideals, not CsEisnANiTr ! Printed and

Published by the Aathoi*, A. Gottschling.

POETRY, BELLES LETTRES, CRITICISM.
Golden TuEisnEr Seeies : Heinkiob Heine's Liedeeotto
Gedichte. Selected and Arranged by C. A. Bncheim,
Ph. 0. Macmillan & Co. 2s. 8d.
Aeistotlb's Tbeoei of Poetey and Fine Aet.

Batcher. Second edition. Macmillan & Co.
Love's Pedition. By Alfred Gorney.

& Co. 23. 6d.
A Vision op Enoh«-d, and Othek Poems.

Rickards Mozley. Richard Beutley k Son.
Specimens oe the Pse-Shakspeeean Dsama. Edited

by John Matthews Manly. Vol. II. Ginn & Co. 5s. 6d.
Rip Van Winele, and Otheb Poems. By William

Akerman. Gaorge Bell & Sons. 63.
Rhymes ok laoNquiLL. Selected: and Arranged by J. A.

Hammerton. George Redway. 33. 6d.

NEWr EDITIONS 07 FICTION.
NoBTHANGEB Abbbv, and Pebsuasion. By Jane Austen.

Illustrated by Hugh Thomson. MaomiUaa k Co.

38. 6d.
The Teuplb "Wavkelet" Novels: The ANTi^oiKY.

FOREIGN.
Manzoni, Illcsteato da G. Peeviati. U. Hoepli (Milano).
La Divina Commbdia di Dante Aliqhieki. Varioas parts.
Ulrico Hoepli.

TOPOGRAPHY AND TRAVEL.
Oaieo of To-dav. By E. A. Reynolds-Ball, B.A. A. & C.
Black. 2s. Od.

EDUCATIONAL.
Euclid's Elements of Geometey. Books I. and II.

Edited by Charles Smith, M.A., and Sophie Bryant

D.Sc. Macmillan & Co. Is. 6d.
Oedinaky Diffbbential Equations: an Elemeniaey

Text-Book. With an Introduction by James Morris

Page. Macmillan & Co. 63. 6d.
The Pitt Pbess Shakespeabe: the Mbecuant of Venice.

By A. W. Verity. Cambridge University Press. Is. 8d.

jaVENILE BOOKS.
OuB Polly: thb Adveniuses of a Pabbot during hbb
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By Prank Mundell. The Sunday School Union. Is. 6d

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Longmans, Gresn & Co. Ua. A New English
Dictionary on Historic il Principles. Fbahk-Law
—Fyz; G— Gain-coming. Vol. IV. Edited by Dr.
James A. H. Murray, ularendon Press. 5b. The
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Government Printing Office. Knowledge : Vol. XX. :
1897. Knowledge Office. The Commonwealth : 1807 ;
A Social Magazine. Gardner, Darton & Co.

: Dr. John Clark Eidpath, the historian, „„
I'ublicist and man of affairs, is second to none
^ithe leaders of that great commonwealth.'

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
OcB Troubles in Poona and the Deocan. By Arthur

Crawford, C.M.G. Archibald Constable & Co. lis.
Peter the Geeat. By Oscar Browning. Hutchinson & Co.
Christina Rossetti. By Mackenzie Bell. Hurst &

Blackett.
LEriEEs AND Papers of Andrew Robebtson, A.M. Eyre

& Spouiswoode. 12s. ud.

PETER THE GEEAT.

When Sir Henry Irving' intimated, a few
months ago, that he intended to produce a
play by his younger son, Laurence Irving,
on the subject of Peter the Great, there
was no undue surprise expressed in any
quarter, because the young author in one
or two fugitive and experimental pieces had
certainly manifested a dramatic talent above
the average and beyond his years. On
other grounds the ijroduction of " Peter the
Great " at the Lyceum on Saturday night
aroused exceptional interest. It is a remark
fret£uently heard in theatrical circles that
Sir Henry Irving has done much for the

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

drama but little for dramatists— indeed,
the Lyceum "chief," as lie is familiarly
called by his subordinates, made a playful
allusion to this very saying when lie
announced the acceptance of his son s play.
Whether a more enterprising policy like
that pursued by Mr. George Alexander and
Mr. Beerbohm Tree would not have proved
equally advantageous at the Lyceum there
is, of course, no knowing. But it is a
curious fact that on the rare occasions when
Sir Henry Irving has left the safe ground
of classic drama or of ^eU estab ished
French adaptation, like "The BeUs," "The
Lyons Mail," or "Louis XL," he has not
been too happily inspired ; and possibly,
the reception accorded to "Peter the
Great" will check, rather than encourage,
his patronage of contemporary writers. 1 or
it is to be feared that this ambitious ettort
on the part of a very young author will not
repay the expense and the histrionic talent
expended upon it at the Lyceum in so un-
stinted a measure.

ScENiCALLY, "Peter the Great" ranks
with any of Sir Henry Irving's great pro-
ductions, and it employs the entire per-
sonnel of the Lyceum, including not only
" the chief " himself, but Miss Ellen
Terry, although the part of Catherine,
for which she is cast, is a purely episodical
one. Never, indeed, has a young author
had a more magniiacent opportunity for
distinction opened up to him. But oppor-
tunity is one thing and the ability to grasp
it another. I am not sure that the very
wealth of illustration brought to bear upon
young Mr. Irving's tragedy does not tend
by contrast to accentuate its weakness. The
picture might have appeared to more advan-
tage had it been enclosed in a less gorgeous
and less massive frame. Similarly, the
author's talent might have proved more
effective had it been applied to a subject
less ponderous and intractable than the
character of the enigmatical Tsar, at once
a bloodthirsty savage, a monster of cruelty,
an enlightened patron of the sciences, and
a great empire builder. The truth is, that
the youthful author of " Peter the Great "
has confidently stepped in where dramatists
of more experience have feared to tread.
The life of Peter the Great has never been
successfully placed upon the stage except
with the softening accompaniment of music.
It is too harsh, brutal, inexplicable for the
purposes of drama, unless, indeed, the lines
of history are widely departed from.

all His bark is worse than his bite. In
fact, one has a suspicion that this imperial
Bogey-man is merely pretending, like the
ehost which terrifies children until the
Ihite sheet is pulled off its face He is
far too noisy, restless, changeable to be
the strong man that the dramatist would
have us beUeve. The harder Sir Henry
Irving toils at the part the less convincing
this too turbulent Peter becomes. He
veers about like a reed shaken by the

wind, , ,

" One foot on sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never."

This is not how force of character is shown.
Whether such a personage as the Peter of
history— madman and statesman of genius-
could be adequately enacted is, perhaps,
open to doubt. The experiment has never
I believe, been made, albeit the subject must
often have presented itself to the mind of the
1 practical dramatist. There are great natural
forces that defy the art of the stage, such as
' a moving railway train, and commanding
personalities like those of Napoleon and
Peter the Great. In this instance the Peter
of the play stands to the Peter of history
in pretty much the same relation as the
cardboard simulacrum to the railway train
of the workaday world.

Mb. Laurence Ikving has sought, I
imagine, to show us the Tsar on his terrible
side. Peter fumes and scowls and bellows
at his terrified courtiers, who huddle together
at his approach like sheep. He throttles
this knavish poltroon and that, orders off
another to be married against his will, or
whittles away placidly at his ship-building
models, while groans and agonised cries
proceed from the torture chamber where
evidence is being manufactured to his
orders. All this is, theoretically, very awe-
inspiring, and yet, somehow, despite Sir
Henry Irving's imtiring exertions in the
part, one does not feel this monster in
human shape to be so very terrible after

With true instinct Mr. Laurence Irving
has taken the death of Peter's iU-starred
son Alexis as the knot of his story—an
event which history has left obscure. Ihat
the prince died in prison, into which he had
been flung by his father's orders, is certain ;
hut whether from natural causes, by mis-
adventure, or by the Tsar's decree, is un-
known. The author fiUs up the gap left by
the historian. In his view, Peter's great
ambition is that his successor should be
able worthily to carry on his great scheme ot
empire-building. Accordingly, with doating
fondness, the Tsar applies himself to the
task of educating the youth so as to
fit him for his great position. But
Alexis, wrapped up in a worthless woman,
has no stomach for education of any kind
Nor does he aspire to rule Eussia. In tact,
he is a white-faced poltroon of the most
contemptible description. The Tsar sees his
duty before him. Alexis, who had fled to
Italy with his mistress, is brought back,
tried on the charge of treason, and condemned
to death. It remains for the Tsar to sign
the fatal decree. Shall he do it ? In the
interests of the State, which he places before
those of humanity, he takes his dread reso-
lution. There is a final scene, at first ot
recrimination, but ultimately of reconciha-
tion, between father and son. They arrive
almost at the point of understanding each
other. But Alexis prefers death to Ute, and
the Tsar is not unwilling that he should pass
into the hands of the executioner, whose
weapon is poison. And so the ditmcement
comes, the Tsar feeling his son's untimely
end all the more acutely that the young man
has in his last moments betrayed an unex-
pected fortitude.

has given us. For once the play rises
the appropriate tragic plane, and here, to'.
Sir Henry Irving, as Peter, obtains h
finest effects. From being an imspeakab
monster of cruelty, Peter becomes nob
with the nobility of Virginius, and in tl
interests of the State slays his son virtual
with his own hand, as the Eoman fath
slew his daughter in order to protect li'
honour. If the play had all been couch
in this elevated vein it would have been ,
much more satisfactory work. The authi,
however, wastes valuable time in leading .
to his dinoMment; he has neglected >
provide a sufficiency of illustrative actio
three-fourths of a portentously long cast a
mere lay figures (albeit one or two
them are ecclesiastics), and the whole i
rendered in a curiously flippant and triv I
vein of dialogue — the opposite extreme )
the " stagese " of convention. A lay figia
the great Catherine herself would be in j
hands of an actress of less verve a I
emotional power than Miss Ellen Ter .
Perhaps the one consistent and prop-
tionate character of the play is the Alexif f
Mr. Taber, an American recruit to e
company. His sketch of the feeble-spiri d
youth is one that lives in the memory, r
Henry Irving's physical exertions in e
part of Peter require a word of ackm -
ledgment. I have never known him w k
with more zeal and sincerity.

J. F. >,

CORRESPONDENCE.

FIGUEES.

Evidently it was for this idea that the
play was written, and these closing scenes,
in point of fact, are the best that the author

THE AUTROE'S

SiR__It is a common way out of a r 98
to prove your adversary making a siil

error of detail. , , i *

1. Mr. Nutt first declared solemnly it
the "least" number of pages for a i-
shilling book was 388. It was not, aiie
now calls it, an " assumption," but a pi a,
naked assertion. Not the average, ma.
The "least"— on this assertion he \x.

up his figures. .i . i, .„

2. I showed by five examples that he as

wrong.

3. He says that two of these exanies

are 3s. 6d. books, ' ,

4 Very weU. I am out of the reac o!

the books. Let it be so. Three ron n.

How can 388 pages be the " least aU( ed

when three of the most popular of mom

novels contain far less? Down go alus

figures. . ^ , J ,„

That is the whole thing. I showed, . w-

ever, that on other pojiite his letter *j

quite wrong, because I had allowed for

everything. He tries to get outbya^^nt

if £14 is all that is spent on advertis'a

Barrie. A Barrie, indeed! The .0

before me was one which no one vU

produce except at the author s cost. >m

assure your readers that not il4 but ■ '•

nearer the mark in such a book as tlus

Mr. Heinemann's letter gives me «»

pleasure, for it shows-what, ind»,^

knew bef ore-that he loves the AM t^

1 much as he loves the literary agent. in|

for the same reason. He has, mdec

Jan. 8, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

other occasions shown his love of both.
Lastly, however, Mr. Nutt should not con-
tradict himself. In the same paragraph he
says, first, that he has not seen mure than
two numbers of the Author in his life ; and,
ne^^t, that a certain statement, which he
would find it difficult to quote from the
Author, has been repeated without a word
of qualification. If he does not see the
paper, how does he know ?

Walter Besant.
Bath, Jan. 3, 1898.

MATHILDE BLIND'S POETEY.

Sib, — I think that your review of A
Selection from the Poems of Mathilde Blind,
in your issue of December 26, must have
pained and surprised those of your readers
who liave read Mathilde Blind's poems
with care and sympathy. Your reviewer
expends his pity on her " well nigh fruitless
effort to become a poet." Her productions
are "slenderly meritorious." She "has
httle or no imaginative insight, no creative,
and little interjjretative power." Well, I
disagree with these judgments. It so
happens that I know Mathilde Blind's verse
only through the volume on which your
reviewer bases his remarks, and it has
affected me very differently. May I jot
down a few comments and quotations, in
haste and at random ? Your reviewer thinks
that Mathilde Blind has no creative power ;
I think she has it : witness the figiire of Sam
in " The Teamster." Here are the first
four stanzas of a poem which your reviewer
thinks is a " duU and conscientious study " :

"With slow and slouching gait Sam leads the
team ;
He stoops i' the shoulders, worn with work
not years ;
One only passion has he, it would seem —

The passion for the horses which he rears :
He names them as one would some house-
hold pet,
May, Violet.

He thinks them quite as sensible as men ;

As nice as women, but not near so skittish ;
He fondles, cossets, scolds them now and
then,
Nay, gravely talks as if they knew good
British :
You hear him call from dawn to set of sun,
' Goo back ! Coom on ! '

Sam never seems depressed nor yet elate,
Like Nature's self he goes his punctual
round ;
On Sundays, smoking by his garden gate,
For hours he'll stand, with eyes upon the
ground,
Like some tired cart-horse in a field alone,
j And still as stone.

Yet, hows'ever stolid he may seem,
I Sam has his tragic background, weird and
I wild

I Like some adventure iu a drunkard's dream.
I Lnpossible, you'd swear, for one so mild :

Yet village gossips dawdling o'er their ale
i Still tell the tale."

|This is vivid and loving portraiture. Ma-
tliilde Blind could see things and make
;them be seen by herreaders. Take this
|little Millet landscape :

" Swi- tanned men and women, toiling there
together ;
Seven I coimt in all, in yon field of wheat.

When the rich ripe ears in the harvest
weather
Glow an orange gold through the swelter-
ing heat.

Busy life is still, sunk in brooding leisure ;
Birds have hushed their singing in the
hushed tree tops ;
Not a single cloud mars the flawless azure ;
Not a shadow moves o'er the moveless
crops.

In the glassy shallows, that no breath is
creasing,
Chestnut- coloured cows in the rushes dank
Stand like cows of bronze, save when they
flick the teasing
Flies with switch of tail from each quiver-
ing flank.

Nature takes a rest — even her bees are sleep-
ing,
And the silent wood seems a church that's
shut;
But these human creatures cease not from
their reaping
While the com stands high, waiting to be
cut."

This is truly felt, and sweetly set down ;
it is not great poetry, but it is not " duU,"
it is not unimaginative, it is more than
"slenderly meritorious." Your reviewer's
criticism of " The Street Children's Dance "
does not seem to me quite fair. He
says that "the subject of the poem
is not even touched until the fifteenth
stanza is reached." But the children
are introduced in the seventh stanza,
and are not again lost sight of for a
moment. The poem is reflective, and wiU
be seen to be such at once by the discerning
reader. Your reviewer might have com-
plained with justice that its title does not
strictly answer to its contents. But Mathilde
Blind need only have called her stanzas
"Lines Suggested by Street Children
Dancing " to have anticipated his criticism.

Your reviewer seems to ig^nore Mathilde
Blind's wonderful human pity. Yet this is
so pure, profound, and constant as to be
itself poetry. She loved " all things both
great and small " with a sad, deep love. She
remembered the lowly and humble men of
heart; and longed that aU feeble things should
know something of the glory of life. Who
but she would have given that turn, in the
sextet, to her sonnet, " The Red Sunsets,
1883"?

" The twilight heavens are flushed with gather-
ing light,
And o'er wet roofs and huddling streets

below
Hang with a strange Apocalyptic glow
On the black fringes of the wintry night.
Such bursts of glory may have rapt the
sight
Of him to whom on Fatmos long ago
The visionary angel came to show
That heavenly city built of chrysolite.

And lo, three factory hands begrimed with
soot.
Aflame with the red splendour, marvelling
stand.
And gaze with lifted faces awed and mute.
Starved of earth's beauty by Man's grudg-
ing hand,
O toilers, robbed of labour's golden fruit,
Ye, too, may feast in Nature's fairyland."

Note, again, how in trying to express her

own intimate love for another soul she
accumulates tenderly observed images :

" As op'ates to the sick on wakeful nights.

As light to flowers, as flowers to poor men's

rooms,
As to the fisher when the tempest glooms

The cheerful twinkling of his village lights ;

As emerald isles to flagging swallow flights,
As roses garlanding with tendrilled blooms
The unweeled hillocks of forgotten tombs.

As singing birds on cypress-shadowed heights,

Thou art to me. . . ."

I think with Mr. Arthur Sjrmons, who
edits the Selection, that Mathilde Blind
" was a poet, almost in spite of herself."
Let me, in conclusion, quote her sonnet
" Nirvana," in which she seems to say her
last word :

" Divest thyself, O Soul, of vain desire !

Bid hope farewell, dismiss all coward fears ;

Take leave of empty laughter, emptier tears.

And quench, for ever quench, the wasting fire

Wherein this heart, as in a funeral pjre,

Aye burns, yet is consumed not. Years on

years
Moaning with memories in thy maddened
ears —
Let at thy word, like refluent waves, retire.

Enter thy soul's vast realm as Sovereign Lord,
And, like that angel with the flaming sword.

Wave off life's clinging hands. Then chains
will fall
Prom the poor slave of self's hard tyranny —
And Thou, a ripple rounded by the sea.

In rapture lost be lapped within the All."

Put Mathilde Blind's case as you will, she
cannot be dismissed as a woman who went
to Parnassus on a vain errand. Her poetry
has much gp:ace; it is charged with emotion ;
and it is so sincere as to be a relic of her
living self. J.

CRITICS.

Sib, — Will Mr. J. E. Yerbury allow me
to ask him if he has ever read Daniel
Rochate and Malagas ? Has he not simply
opened a catalogue of Victorien Sardou's
complete works and chosen two of the least
known, which he is pleased to give us as
models of criticism? His choice is hope-
lessly unhappy.

If, as Mr. Yerbury claims, I have " a
very limited conception of what a critic
really is," he, at least, has a very large con-
ception indeed. For Mr. Yerbury every
writer — the journalist, the philosopher, the
satirist, the luan who as novelist gives his
opinion on any subject, the author of what
French people call "la piece a these" — is
a critic. This at least appears from his
statement that Daniel Rochate and Rahagas
are " perfect specimens of criticism."

Would the readers of the Academy bestow
on Messrs. Hardy and Grant Allen (I beg
pardon for this juxtaposition) the title of
critic when these authors speak of free love ?
Why, then, should Sardou have a greater
right to be so called for having set forth in
Daniel Rochate the struggle between Atheism
and Christianity anent the question of civil
and religious marriage ; for having given
us in Rahagas— -v/Y^ah, after all, is but a
poor pamphlet — an overdrawn witless cari-
cature of a republican ? No matter ! Hats
off, gentlemen! Long life to Victorien

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan 8. 1898.

Sardou, the great French critic! Would
Mr. Yerbury kindly tell me in what paper
I can find, " at least twice a week, criticisms
of men and things from the pen of Sully-
Prudhomme" ? a philosophical poet whom I
greatly admire. I should be very thankful,
I am sure !

For the articles of Frangois Coppee three
numbers of Le Journal, kept by mere chance,
I assure you wiU give us a good example
of his weekly collaboration. On July 1
Coppee writes on the Jubilee ; on October 28
he tells us of a winter sunset at Geneva,
" above the clouds "; finally, on November
25, he relates at length that on a Sunday
morning at church he saw a poor girl
praying fervently.

But Mr. Yerbury is quite right. Coppee
is sometimes a critic, and this is how he
comes to be so. A young writer, unknown
to the crowd, publishes a book. He goes
to his friend, Fran9oi8 Coppee : " Cher
maitre," says he, "you who have acquired
a universal reputation by your verses and
j'our tales, will you not commend me to the

Eublic?" And the " cher maitre," who
kes the younger generation, for he has not
forgotten the days, long since past, when
he also was yoimg and unknown, kindly
takes his pen and writes :

"I have lived through many years; I have
seen many things, many men ; I have read
many books, good and bad ; therefore I am
able to discern genius when I cime across it.
Be advised by me, read Mr. X.'s book, it is
worth while, for .... I was pleased with it."

And that is all. As we say in France :
" Pour un vrai trio de critiques, c'est un
vrai trio do critiques. 0 combien ! " But
does Mr. J. E. Yerbury understand French?

JeanCyrank.

BOOK EEVIEWS REVIEWED.

..m,- „ . Mr. Watson's new book of

"The Hope of , . ,

the World." poems has received very various
By wiUiam treatment, in which, however,

Watson. ' ' . , . '

a general agreement is dis-
cemable. The Standard and the Saturday
Review critics have each been led to make
an estimate of Mr. Watson's work as a
whole, and their views differ only slightly.
This is the Standard critic's elaborated judg-
ment :

"Mr. Watson has never had very much to
say, and he does not seem to find more as the
years grow upon him. Beautiful as his verse
ofteu is, his poetic ' message ' has always been
slight and unimportant, his philosophy some-
what superficial, his outlook upon life narrow
and limited. He is a poet of the study, or,
perhaps, we should say of the library, and, for
the most part, seems rather to oatoh the echoes
from other lyres than to strike out original
harmonies of his own. But something more
than scholarship and wide reading and a nice
feeling for style are required for the making
of a great poet.

Mr. "Watson does not; as a rule, write out of
the depths of a full and varied experience. But
he has read his Wordsworth, his Tennyson, his
Shelley, his Matthew Arnold ; he has learned
to manipulate a few English metres with
remarkable skill ; he has a gift, assiduously
cultivated, of chaste, lucid, and dignified ex-
pression ; and he has the true poetic command
of imagery and epithet and suggestive allusion.
The result is that we seldom turn his pages

without finding some passages of almost
classical perfection, some exquisite touches,
and a few lines that ring nobly upon the ear.

If a reader can be satisfied with good work-
manship and literary accomplishment, with
many a felicitous simile and metaphor, and
with frequent notes that recall the greater
masters, he may be well content with Mr.
WiUiam Watson. For passion, for depth of
emotion, for profvmdity of thought, for the
magic of one of those inevitable phrases that
live for ever, he must look elsewhere. Mr.
Watson is no Theban eagle ' soaring with
supreme dominion ' through the aziu-e spaces ;
he is only a very cultivated and conscientious
poet of the later strain, whose carefuUy
finished verses can usually be read with
pleasure, but seldom with any dangerous
exaltation of the critical pulses."

The Saturday Review sadly says :
" Serious and sober and edifying as his work
is, it becomes evident that Mr. Watson has no
surprises in store for us : his verse seems to be
already essentially middle-aged. Almost while
we were still prepared to be expectant — for
from Mr. Watson's power of harmony much
might have come had there been enough of
imperative imagination behind it — we found
ourselves beginning to look back to di'cover
him at his strongest. And so the conviction
has steadily increased that whatever rank he
may take in the future must come from work
already achieved."

But the Standard has kind words for Mr.

Watson's lyrics and sonnets :

"The ' Ode in May ' has a spontaneous music,

not disguised by a most elaborate choice of

words, which is quite captivating :
' What is so sweet and dear
As a prosperous mom in May,
The confident prime of the day.
And the dauntless youth of the year ;
When nothing that asks for bliss,
Asking aright, is denied,
And halt of the world a bridegroom is,
And half of the world a bride ? ' "

And the Saturday admits : ' ' We can cordially

praise work which remains sincere, often

large in utterance, and correct in model

without being cold."

The political element in the volume has
made the St. James's Oatette critic ang^ :

" It is really quite time that the author of
' The Purple East ' retired, like Lord Rosebery,
from politics and went back to poetry. This
little volume, though its inspiration is decidedly
meagre, shows once more that there is a field
in which Mr. Watson might yet grow more of
those beautiful fiowers of poetry which gave
such promise in his earlier books. There is
sometimes a new Swinburnian ring in his lines :
' We are children of splendour and flamo,
Of shuddering, also, and tears.
Magnificent out of the dust we came,
An abject from the Spheres.'

The volume is mainly composed of trifles,
some of them pleasing, all the work of a grace-
ful and accomplished writer. But if Mr.
Watson is content with such trifles he wiU
shortly be relegated to the ranks of the minor
poets.'

The Daily News thinks that, regarded in
one way, "the political poems — the 'Poems
on Public Affairs ' as the author calls most
of them " — are but the expression of the same
idea" as the more personal and general
poems :

" We have here much that we have had
before : his deep sympathy with suffering

nations and with lost causes, and the fine in-
sight which shows him the spiritual triuinpl,
where others see only the disasters of the field
But he has, in this instance, given a fuller ex
pression of himself in powerful ' problem
poems, which, in their full significance, are bu
utterances of a sublime despair."

This critic thinks that Mr. Watson'
verse " has not improved in quality." " H,
seems to lose something of the exquisit
workmanship that distinguished him, as h
grows more strenuous in jiurpose. . . , H
has been caught up in the whirl of ou'
political controversies, and his muse ma
suffer from it by losing its dignity an
its sense of repose."

The Times passes from the political poen ,
to praise

"such glowing verse as ' Jubilee Night
Westmoreland ' and the little poem called 'Tl
Lost Eden,' which expounds iu noble langua^
the eternal significance of that ancient stor
At first man dwells in Eden, but he oann
stay there : he is pressed forward by Eve,

' Eve, the adventurous soul within his soul
The sleepless, the unslaked : ' "

And he fares forth on the inevitable pi
grimage of sorrow and of joy :

"Never shall he return : for he hath sent
His spirit abroad among the infinitudes.
And may no more to the ancient pales recall
The travelled feet. But oftentimes he feels
The intolerable vastness bow him down,
The awful homeless spaces scare his soul;
And half-regretfid he remembers then
His Eden lost, as some grey mariner i

May think of the far fields where he was brt
And woody ways unbreathed-on by the si
Though more familiar now the ocean-paths
Gleam, and the stars his fathers never knew

The Manclisster Guardian refuses ■
believe that we have yet had Mr. Watsoi
best work. He still "awaits a supren
opportunity for rising to the full height o: ,
genius that we believe to be great."

"Derelicts." ^^18 story has had, at lea,
By a succes d'estime. The Da'

William Locke. c-Arowetjfo's critic describes t
as " an impressive book." He says :

' ' An impressive book, an important book, t
is not without artistic blemishes, but these '■!
atoned for by its fine spirit, its high feeling, t
deals with a very terrible and a very actual siti -
tion ; it brings home to us vividly the tern 3
conditions in which hundreds of men are & ■
deraned to struggle, here, immediately ah t
us, every day. And then — Yvonne. Yvois
is a creation that any artist might be proud c '

The Daily News says that "this moving 1 1
interesting book, dealing with the trao
fate of a released prisoner," is a book to e
read. " The heroine, Yvonne, is qi 9
charming. She is a sweet, sunny-soul
creature, an artist to the tips of her fingd
and a woman to the core of her heart."

"Few," says the Mancliester Guard t,
" could read without stirring of the h(."t
this picture of the desperate struggles a:*
decent life of a man who has once fall,
but whose instincts remain sensitive .o.
generous."

Jan. 8, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

3^T O T I OB

TN response to complaints as to_the difficulty of obtaining this paper, we now publish a LIST OF AGENTS from whom "THE
idtostp'iiXIdirTJor'Ltr^^^^^^ '^ ---« ^P^"-^^°- ^-'^^-^^ f- BookseUers antZJnSs^

supply them direct or through

LONDON.

Wholeealo.

Messrs. W. H. S1[(TH & SON, Sirand

„ 0*SSEL & LAMB, Salisbury Square
„ DAWSOK & SON, Bream's Buildings
„ KENT & CO., Paternoster Row

KINGSBURY & CO., Racquet Court, E.G.
MARLBOROUUH & CO., Old Bailey, E.G.
H. .MARSHALL & SONS, Temple Avenue, London
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO., Stationers' Hall
Mr. GEORGE VICKERS, Strand [Court

Messrs. H. WILLIAMS & CO., 48, Old Bailey, E.G.

„ TERRY & CO., Hatton Garden
Mr. E. W. ALLEN, 4, Ave Maria Lane, E.G.
Mr. POULTER, 'I'emplo

Meesrs. COWIE & CO., 17, Qreshara Street, E.G.
„ FAREINGTON & CO., St. Bride Street
„ RICHIE & CO., Red Lion Court
Mr. ROGERS, 32, Portland Street, Soho
Messrs. STECKERT & CO., Star Yard, W.C.
Mr. B. P. STEVENS, 1, Trafalgar Square
LONDON and SUBURBAN DISTRIBUTING AGENCY,

Bouverie Street
Mr. WALTERS, Bell Yard, Temple Bar
London, E.O.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, Liverpool Street
Station (Main Line)
„ „ Book Stall, Cannon Street

I, „ ,, Ludgate Hill Station

Mr. BLENKINS, Bream's Buildings, Fetter Lane
Mr. SMITH, 14, Cursitor Street, Chancery Lane
Mr. MANNERS, 58, Fetter Lane

Mr. KBLLY, 2, Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane
Mr. WALKER, Mitre Court, Temple
Mr. JENKINSON, Shoe Lane, Fleet Street
Mr. WALKER, Imperial Arcade, Ludgate Hill
Mr. COLE, 97, Queen Street, Cheapside
Mr. BERRY, Cullum Street, Penchurch Street
Mr. STYLES, Fishmonger Alley, Fenohurch Street
Mr. ABBOTT, .33, Eastoheap
Mr. ATKINSON, London Bridge
Messrs. W. U. EVERETT & SON, Royal Exchange
Mr. POTTLE, Royal Exchange
Mr. BLATR, Royal Exchange
Mr. DA VIES, 1, Finch Lane, Comhill
Messrs. LEATHWAITE & SIMMONS, 1, Pope's Head

Alley, Comhill
Mr. R. GRAVATT, King Street, Cheapside
Mr OWEN, 35, Little- Britain
Mr. RALPH, 67, Little Britain

London, W.©.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stalls, Euston (Express side)
II I, „ King's Cross, G.N.R.

II II „ St. Pancras, Mid. R.

,1 ,1 „ Charing Cross

Mr. WOOD, Portsmouth Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields
Mr. BUNDOCK, St. Martin's Court, St. Martin's Lane
Mr. PERKS, 41, St Martin's Lane

London, S.W.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stalls, Waterloo Station

" II II (Main Line) „

» I, „ (Loop Line) „

,• I, I, Victoiia(L.B.&S.C,)Sta.

I, (L.O. AD.) ,1
„ I, I, „ (District) „

,1 I, „ Richmond

Mr. BLACKBURN, 14, Lowndes Street, Lowndes Square
Messrs. RASTALL & S'3N, Eccleston Street, corner of

Ebury Street
Mr. LOVELL, 149, Fnlliam Road
Mr. NEWBURY, 196. Fulham Road
Mr. H. S. EDWARDS 303, Fulham Road
Mes'rs. H. SPORNE & SON, 270, Fulham Road
Miss LANGLEY, 694, King's Road
Mr. STONE, 510, King's lioad
Mr. J. SUTTON, B9, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea
Mr. OHANNON, 82, Brompton Road
Mr. MONK, 9, Montpelier Road, Brompton Road

London. 8.B.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, London Bridge
Station (Main, S.E.R.)

liondon, W.

Messrs. SMITH & SON, Paddington Station.

II II Book Stall, Kensington

Mr. ANDREWS, I, Bridge Street, Hammersmith
Mr. KETTON, 70, North End Road,West Kensington Station
Messrs. HOBBINS & CO., 164, Earl's Court Road
Mr. BATES, 3, Station BiiildinKS, Gloucester Hoad Station
Mr. HALL, 17, Bute Street, West Kensington Station

PROVINCIAL TOWNS.
Bath.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book StaU, Mid. E.
■ • I, I, G.W.R.

„ STANFORD & MANNi New Street
Mr. ASTON, Smallbrook Street
Mr. BEACON, Pershore Street

Birmingham.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, G.W.R.
" II I, L. & N.W.B.

Bradford.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, Mid.R.

„ " „ II I, L. 4 y. & G.N. Ry.

Messrs. BILLBOROUGH & KITCHINGHAM, Dale Street

Mr. W H. CLOUGH, 28, Forster Square

Mr. HOPPER, Bridge Street

Mr. TROTTER, Cheapside

Brighton.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Agents.

Bristol.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, G.W.R.

Carlisle.

Mr. STEWART, 38, Botchergate, and English Street
Messrs. MUIR & CO.. EnKlish Street
Messrs. CHAS. THURNHAM & SON, English Street
Messrs. MENZIES, Railway Station

" Cheltenham.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Bookstall, G.W.R.

Chester.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, Mid E

Mr. ASTON, Market Square

Mr. MOUNTPORO, Northgate Street

Mr. 0. W. THOMAS, Northgate Street

Messrs. MINSHILL A MKESON, Eastgate Row

Mr. AINSWORTH, 64, Poregate Street

Cambridge
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall
Messrs. DBCUHTON, BELL i CO., Booksellers

Crewe.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Bock Stall

Mr. EARDLEY, Chester Bridge

Mr. W. DISH.\RT, 39, Nantwich Road

Croydon.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Durham.

Mr. CALDCLEUGH, Junr., 8, North Street
Mr. JOHN PALMER, Sadiiler Street
Mrs. SLACK, North Road

Darlington.
Mr. WALKER, Railway Station

Exeter.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, Queen Street

GHoixCGHtGr
Messrs. SMITH <fc SON'S Book Stall, G.W.R.

Ipswich.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Jarrow.
Messrs. ROBINSON & GO, Ormond Street

Kesseick.

CHAPLIN'S LIBRARY

Liverpool.

Messrs. SMITH & SON, Castli Street (Wholesale)

II II Book Stall, Lime Street Station

II II II Exchange „

II I, ,, Central ,,

Mr. McKEON, 8, Exchange Street East

Mr. WINTERBOTTOM, Moorflelds

Mr. PARTINGTON, Renshaw Street

Leeds.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, Wellington Street

Railway Station
II 11 I, Central do.

Messrs. GOODALL & SUDDICK, New Station
Mr. JOHNSON, 1, Call Street

Mr. BURNISTON, 48, Briggate.and Covered Market
Mr. CORNWALL, Upper MiU Hill
Mr. N. G. MORRISON, Bishopsgate
Mr. B. JOWBTT, 51, North Street
Mr. RICHARD JACKSON, 16, Commercial Street
Mr. JAMBS MILLS, 39, Bond Street

Leicester.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stalli Mid. R.

Manchester.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Depfit (Wholesale)

II I, Book Stall, Exchange Ry.Station

I, II II London Rd., L. & N.

W. R. Station
•• •• ,1 ditto, M.S. & L. R.

Station
I, ., I, Central Ry. Station

II „ „ Victoria Rly. Station

Mr. JOHN HEYWOOD (Wholesale Newsagent)

Mr. ABEL HEYWOOD, Oldham Street

Messrs. MORRIS & CO., 43, Deansgato

Mr. WHEELER, Pall Mall

Mr. POWELL, Corporation Street

Malvern (Great).

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stalls

Newcastle-on-Tyne.

Mr. C. 0. BOSS, 33, Side, Dean Street
Mr. WATMOUGH, 40, Newgate Street
Mr. J. COCHRANE, 291, Weatgate HUl
Mr. J. A. DE LACT, 218.V. Westgate Road
Mr. RENDER, Newgate Street
Mr. MACEY, New Bridge Street

^Nottingham.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, Mid. R.

„ ,1 I, Northwich

Norwich.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stalli Thorpe Station

Oxford,
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall
Messrs. WILLIAMS i. NORGATE, Booksellers

Peterborough.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Preston.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Portsmouth.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Plymouth.

Messrs. SMITH & SONS Book Stall (Milllny)

Reading.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Stafford.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Stockton.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall
Mr. J. R. WOOD, Oaxton House

Southampton.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall
Southport.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, L. 4 Y. R.

Shields (JSTorth).

Mr. CLARKE, Nile Street

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S, Railway Station

Shields (South).
Mr. LAWSON, Powler Street
Mr. LEARMOUNT, 75, King Street

Sheffield.

Messrs. SMITH & SON S Book Stall, Victoria Station

Thirsk.
Mr. WALKER, Railway Station

Tunbridge "Wells.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall, S.B.B.

Warrington.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Windsor.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, G.W.R.
.. II II S.W.R.

Wimbledon.
Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Book Stall

Tork.

Mr. BENTLEY, 63, Coney Street

Mr. GILBERT30N, Silver Street

Mr. A. W. OUTHWAITB, 35, Market Street

Mr. SAMPSON, 13, Coney Street, and Book Stall, Ry. Stn.

SCOTLAND.
Edinburgh.

Mr. ARCHIBALD, 2. Dairy Road, Haymarket

Mr. W. G. B. ARCUS, 43, Broughton Street

Mr. ELLIOTT, 26, Princes Street

Mr. PAIRGRlEVB, 7 4 9, Cockbnm Street

Messrs. GRANT 4 SON, 107, Princes Street

Mr. GARDNER, Dundas Street

Mr. JAMES HAIG, 1, Antigna Street

Messrs. KElTH 4 CO., 68, Princes Street

Mr. WM. KAY, 6, Bank Street

Messrs. MOODIE BROS., 9, Antigna Street

Mifs MACK, 10, Clark Street

Messrs. MENZIES 4 CO., Hanover Street (Wholesale)
„ II Waverley .Station (two Stalls)

I, II Central Station (Caledonian)

Mr. MacPHAIL, 33, St. Andrew's Sqnare

Mr. ROBINSON, 111| Leith Street

Mr. F. M. SLOAN, 19, Broughton Street

Mr. W. M. URQUHABT, 46, Queen's Peny Road

Glasgow.
Mr. BLYTHWOOD, Sauchiehall Street
Mr. WM. BARR (Wholesale), 15, Dumbarton Road

„ „ 62, Sauchiehall Street

Mr. M. DICKINSON, 192, Sauchiehall Street
Mr. GRAHAM (Wholesalel, 108, Eglington Street
Mr. GRAHAM'S Book Stall, College St. Station, G.4 S.W.R.

„ , „ Queen Street Station

Mr. HIGGINS, 13, Stobcross Street
Mr. HOLMES (Wholesale), St. Enoch's Square
Mr. KEARNEY, High Street
Mr. HOOD, 229, Argyle Street
Mr. WM. LOVE (Wholesale), 221, Argyle Street
Messrs. MENZIES 4 CO. (Wholesale), 90, West Hill Stree

„ , „ Central Station (two Stalls)

Mr. MOORE, Charing Cross
Mr. ROBERTSON, 142, Dumbarton Road
Mr. STEWART, 187, George Street
Mrs. WALKER, 230, Dumbarton Road
Messrs. WILSON 4 KING (Wholesale), 83, London Road

Leith.
Mr. GEORGE ELLIOTT, 71. Elm Row, Leith Walk
Mr. CHARLES DRUMMOND, 49, Duke Street
Mr. FRASER, 174, Leith Walk
Mr. A. IIARUIE, 8, Eastern Road
Mr. C. HUNTER, 79, Brunswick Street, Leith Walk
Messrs. JOHN NAYLOR 4 CO., 147, Groat Junction Stree

Lockerbie.

Messrs. MENZIES & CO., Railway Station

Stirling.

ENEAS MACKAY, 43, Murray Place

IRELAND.

Dublin.

Messrs. KASON 4 SON, 40, SackviUe Street

AMERICA.

New York.

Messrs. G. P. PUTNAM 4 SONS

PARIS?.
Messrs. OALIONANI, 224, Rue de Bivsli

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 8, 1898.

Blaisdell

have a

pull

over other

Pencils.

BEST LEAD -

- ALWAYS READY -

- NO WASTE.

USED BY

The Wae Office.

Bank of England.

New Zealand Government Offiok.

Bankers' Cleaeino House.

United States Government Offices.

Oxford University.

Cambridge University.

Eton College.

United States Arsenal.

United States Navy.

Pennsylvania and other American

Railway Companies.
The London Stock Exchange.
North British and Mercantile and

OTHER Insurance Offices.

HOW TO USE:

start the paper witli a pin or any pointed instrument — a slight pnll —
off it comes, and the lead pencil is shaipened. Thirty Fresh Points
to every Pencil. The only wear is from use, not from whittling away
or breaking the lead. Z^^

No wood chips are left on the floor, nor any dirty marking-stnff on your
fingers.

WHAT THE PRESS SAYS:

The Queen.

" What an improvement this is upon the old laborioas process of pencil sharpeninir and how much
less extravagant with regard to the consumption of the lead, which cannot snap'ofE when thus
treated ! "

Westminster Gazette.

" It is decidedly an ingenious idea."

Black and White.

"The 'Blaisdell' self-sharpening paper pencil is a remarkahly smart contrivance The lead is
encased in paper, which can easily be unrolled when a fresh point Is required."

Ifyawt stationer does not sell them, send Is. for a set of sample Pencils to

BLAISDELL PENCILS CO., LIMITED,

46, HOLBORN VIADUCT, LONDON, E.G.

Self=Sharpening.

FOUNTAIN PENS AND STYLOS

The objections to them,
and how they have been met.

Cateris paribus everyone would rather
use a fountain pen that carries its own
ink, and can, therefore, be used anywhere
and at any moment, in preference to an
ordinary pen, which has to be dipped in
the ink every minute or so.

But fountain pens have acquired a bad
name from two or three general objections
to them. "A fountain pen is all very
well," people say, " but it has to be
carried upright, otherwise the ink comes
out in your pocket ; in fact, the ink spills
and makes a hideous mess on the smallest
provocation. By way of compensation,
when you want to write, the ink retires
to the barrel (if it isn't aU spilled into
your pocket) and refuses to emerge until
the pen has been shaken and thumped
until it squirts out a blot on the carpet."

This used to be true ; but the CAW
PEN has met the difficulty. It does not
have to be carried upright ; it can be
carried sideways, upside down, or in any
position whatever. The ink cannot
possibly spUl, because it is in a hermeti-
cally closed chamber, screwed tight.
There is no air-hole.

The pen can be jerked or thrown about
as much as you please ; it cannot spill.
On the other hand, until the CAW PEN
is opened for use the nib (which is a gold
one of the finest quality) is immersed in
the ink. Consequently it writes at once,
without giving any trouble.

The CAW PEN is not merely the
only fountain pen which anyone cares to
use who has once seen it as a pocket pen,
but it is so convenient for desk use that
it supersedes all other pens whatever.

It is easily filled, and having a wide
mouth does not clog with air bubbles
during that operation. Prices from
128. 6d.

"Caw pens have a repute beyond their
neighbours." — Westminster Budget.

The objection to Stylographic Pens is
that the point rarely suits the writer's
hand, and cannot be adjusted.

The CAW STYLOGEAPHIC PEN
can be adjusted in an instant. It has
not all the advantages of the CAW
FOUNTAIN PEN ; but for people who
prefer a stylo this is the best stylo on the
market. Prices from 5s.

British Depot —
46, Holbom Viaduct, London, E.G.

Prlnt«d by ALKXANDBB « 8HBPHBABD, Lonsdale Pritdng Works. Ohanoaty Lane; Published for the Proprietor by PHTHB GBOBGB ANDBKWS, «, Chancery Lame, W.O.

Jax. 15, 18»8.]

THE ACADEMY.

CHAPMAN & HALL'S

NEW BOOKS.

READY JANUARY 17th.
AT ALL LIBRARIES AND BOOKSELLERS' .

THE BUILDING of the EMPIRE.

The Story of * Knglanrt's Growth from Elizabeth to
Victoria. By ALFKED THOMAS STORY. Author of
"The Life of John Linnell," &c. With Portraits of
Queens Elizabeth and Victoria in Photogravure, and
upwards of 100 Portiaits and Illustrations. 2 vols.,
large crown Svo, 14s.

THE JOURNALS of WALTER

WHITE, Assistant-Secretary to the Boyal Society.

With a Preface by his Brother, WILLIAM WHITE, and

a Photogravure Portrait. Crown Svo, Gs.
The Saturday Review says :— "The little volume makes
good reading. Mr. White came in contact with celebrities
and notabilities innumerable, and has something nnploasant
and pleasant to say of most of them."

The Pall Mall Gazette says :— " Records of conversations
at Carlyle's, at Tennyson's, and elsewhere, which it is a
pity to have kept hidden so long."

WHAT IS LIFE.o Or, Where are

we? What are we? Whence did we come? And
whither do we go ? By FREDERICK HOVENDEN,
P.L.8., P.G.8., F.R.M.S. With many lUnstiations.
Demy Svo, 68.

MODERN ARCHITECTURE. A

Ituok for Architects and the Public. By H. HEATH
COTE ST.VPHAM, F.R.I.B.A., Editor of the Builder
and Author of " Architecture for General Readers,"
ic. With numerous Illustrations of Contemporary
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The Daily Keics says ;—" This is an eminently readable
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MR. COOPER'S NEW SPORTING NOVEL.

THE MARCHIONESS AGAINST

THE COUNTY. By E. H. COOPER, Author of "Mr.

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MR. WM. JIEINEMANN'S LIST.

THE WORKS OF LORD BYRON.

Edited oy WILLIAM BRISEST HENLEY. To be com-
pleted in Twelve Volumes, Small crown Svo, price 5s.
net each : also an edition, limited to 150 sets for sa'e in
Great Britain, printed on Van Gelder's hand-mad©
paper. Prico £(i i>8. net,
Sabscribers names for this edition of the Complete Works

of Lord Byron, Edited,w\th Copious Notes, by W. E. Henley,

are now being received,

VERSE, Vol. I- Containing " Hours of Idleness/'
" English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," and " Childe
Harold." 'VVithaFortralt after Holmes. INextmonth,

LETTERS, Vol. I. 1804-1813. AVith a Portrait

after Phillips. [Is noiv ready.

Academy.—" These Byron Letters (Vol. I.) Mr. Henley has annotated

BS never surely weru letters aiinotuted before It is sale to say that

henceforth the typical eilitiun of Byron can never l»e8epanited from
tfaesenotes. InconclUBiou,if Byron hoB waited lung fora beavea-sent
editor, he has him at last."

PETER the GREAT. By K. WallszewskL

With a Portrait. 1 vol., 562 pp., 6a.
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and makes it move belore UiS. A ttrauge,
compeU admiration."

terrible story, which

UNDER the DRAGON FLAG. My Experiences

in the Japo-Chinese War. By JAMJiS ALLEN.
1 vol., 3s. lid.
DaHy J/ail.— '* A sensatioiuil little book, which is likely to be talked
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SIX-SUILLINO NOVELS.

THE FOURTH NAPOLEON. By Charles

BENHAM.

THE BETH BOOK. By Sarah Grand.

PitncA.— -'The heroine of 'The Beth Book' is one of Sarah Grand's
most fasciiuLtioD creatioBs. The story is absorbing : the truth to
nature in the chardcters every reader with some expcnence of life will
recognise."

THE CHRISTIAN. By Hall Caine.

The iiJtetcA.- " It <iuivers and lalpitatea with passion, for eTen Mr.
Caine's bitterest detractorK caimut tfeny that he ia the possessor of that
rarest of all gifts, genius,"

THE NIGGER of the "NARCISSUS." By

JOSEPH CON BAD.
The Daily TeUgraph.—" There are few characters among the crew
which do liut stand out with vivid and life-like present imeut. We
know them all. Mr. Conrad has for the first time given to the world
the Engh&h seaman its he is."

THE GADFLY. By E. L. Voynlch.

The St. Ja^iiei'g Cktiette.—" Exciting, sinister, even terrifying, we
inuac a\ow it to be a work nf real tteniun."

Lo.N:,o.i: WM. lil-INEMANX, ::i, BuDtoau Stkeet, W C,

EYRE & SPOTTISWOODE.

LETTERS and PAPERS of ANDREW

ROBERTSON, A.M. Born 1777, died 1845, Miniature
Painter to his late Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex ;
also a Treatise on the Art by ARCHIBALD ROBERT-
SON, of New tork. born 1766, died 1835. Edited by
EMILY ROBERTSON. Paper, 68. ; cloth, 7s. ; art can-
vas,7s. 6d.; oiotli, with 12 Woodbury-type Illustrations,
12s. ed. net.

THE ART Of SEEING. By an Artist.

Elementary and Practical Hints as to the Perception
and Bnjoyment of the Beautiful in Nature and in the
Fine Arts. By ANDREW ROBERTSON. A.M., Minia-
ture Painter to the late Duke of Susses. Edited by his
daughter, EMILY ROBERTSON. Cloth, la. net.

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. By Captain

DAY (Oxfordshire Light, Infantry). Besides describing
the unique collection of Instruments exhibited at the
Royal MiUtary Exhibition, it lumishea a complete
history of each class of Military Band Instruments.
Morocco back, cloth sides, gilt, 15a.

SCORES and ANNALS of the WEST KENT

CRICKET CLUB (1812-189(5). Compiled by PHILIP
NORMAN. With Woodbury -gravure and other illus-
trations. 21b. net.
•*Eall of interest for lovers of cricket, whether on its
practical or its social side. , . , Delightful book."

Tfie Times.

SPECI A L REPORTS on EDU CATION AL

SUBJECTS, 1896-7. 3b. 4d. ; by post, 3s. 9d.

*• Full of the most interesting and valuable information
on a great variety of subjects." — Secondary Education.

** Should be read by everybody who wants to know the
true inwardness of foreign competition." — Daily Aetvs.

THE REFORMATORY and INDUSTRIAL

SCHOOL ACTS. "With Memorandum, Appendices,
and Index. By F. V, HORNBY, Barrister-at-law, and
one of Her Majesty's Assistant Inspectors of Reforma-
tory and Industiial Schools. Cloth, Sa.

A HISTORY of NEWFOUNDLAND from the

ENGLISH, COLONIAL, and FOREIGN RECORDS,
By D. W. PROWSE. Q.C., LL.D., Judge of the Central
District Court of Newfoundland. With numerous Illus-
trations and Maps. Second Edition. Revised and
Corrected. Cloth 6s.

THE PRESERVATION of OPEN SPACES,

andof FOOTPATHS, and OTHKR KIGHTS of WAY.
By Sir ROBERT HUNTER, M.A., Solicitor to the Post
Otfice, and late Hon. Solicitor to the Commons Pre-
servation Society. Demy Svo, cloth, 78. 6d.

London : East Harding Stkeet, E.G.

ENGLISH HISTORICAL REVIEW.

Edited by S. K. HARIilNKK DX'.L., LL 1).. Fellow of Mcrtou

College, (Jiford, ;iua UKUIXALU L. I'OOLE, JI.A., I'li.D.

No. 4i).— J ANUAKV, 1898.— Eoyal Svo, price 5s.

1. Artieteg.

THE EARLY HISTORY of BABYLONIA.-I. The RULERS

of KENUI and KISH. By Sir UbisBV U. HowoKlu,

K.C.I.E., M.y.
THE CoNliUEROR'S FOOTPRIKTS in DOMESDAY. By

F. Baki.no.
THE ADMINISTRATION of the NAVY from the RESTORA-

TION to the REVOLCTION. i-art II., continued. By

T t> Tanner
JOHN DE ROBETIION and the KOBETHON PAPERS. By

J. F. Chance.

2. HoUs aiid Documents.— 3. RevUvts of Jiooks.-4. Correspwikn^e.—

B. Aoliceg of reHcdicala.—a. Litt 0/ tuxeiU HUtorual P«i*It-

CO(WJi«.

LoNoxAKs, GTreen & Co., London* New York, and Bombay.

THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

No. 38S.— JANU.VRY, 1898.— Svo, price 6b.
I. VALMY and AUEKSTAUT.
n. THE ANNALS of a PUBLISHING HOUSE.

III. DONGOLA.

IV. THE IRISH UNIVERSITY IJUESTION.
V. THE SUCCESS of the ANGLOJiAXONS.

VL THE HARLEY PAPERS.
VIL THE BIRDS of LONDON.
VIII THE WORKS of MR. RUDYARD KIPLING.
IX. MR. BRYCE on the FUTURE of SOUTH AFRICA.
X. INDLAN FRONTIER POLICY.
LoNOUANs, Gbeen ft Co., LondoD, New York, and Bombay.

8T0, es.

THE QUARTERLY REVIEW,

No. 373, will be published on WEDNESDAY, Jasl'abt 19.
Contents.
L WAGNER and the BAYREUTU IDEA.
IL IRELAND in '98.

III. THE VENTURE of THEISM.

IV. GEORGE VILLIERS, DUKE of BUCKIMOHAM.
V. FOUR GREAT HEADMASTERS.

VI. NELSON.

VII. COLONIAL CHAMPIONS in the MOTHER COCNTRY.

Vin. GIBBON at LAUSANNE.

IX. ENGLISH ART In the VICTORIAN AGE.

X. THE HOUSE of BLACKWOOD.

XL THE LONDON COUNTY COUNCIL.
XII. FIFTY YEARS of LIBERATIONISM,

Loaion: John Mubhat, Albemarle StreeL

MR.ELKIN MATHEWS'S

SELECTED LIST.

ADMIRALS ALL, and other Verses.

By HENRY NEWBOLT. (Shilling Garland, No. VIII.)
Fcap. Svo, Is. net. {^Seventh Edition.

•* Genuinely inspired patriotic verse There are but a dozen pieces

in this shilling's worth, but there is no dross amonn them.*

St. Jarma'a GazetU.

*' All the pieces are instinct with the national English spirit. Thev
are written in a sturdy rhythmical speech, worthy of their own hign
themes. "~Sco(«m((n.

" Lookiog back to recent achievements in the same line, and includ-
ing even Mr, liipling'g, we do not know where to find anything better
after its own kind than his ballad uf Drake's Dium.'"

WuMtminater GantU.

" To the band of modem ballad -writers a new recruit is always most
welcome. It is therefore with the greatest possible pleasure that we
notice the delightful little collection of ballads which Mr. Newbolt
publishes ucder the title of ' Admirals AIL' Mr. Newbolt has done a
notable thing. He has mananed to wrote ballids full of ring and go.
and full also of patriotic feeling without imitating Mr. Rudyard Kip-
ling 'Admirals Air is practically Mr. Stevens'>n's charming essay

ou 'The Old Admirals* put into ballad form— Mr. Newbolt has im-
proved on the essay, and given us a poem which could be sung by
sailors all the world over." — Spectator.

*' Stirring ballads, written by a man who has force and spirit."

Times.

"These splendid songs will take an eminent and enduring place
among our patriotic poetry.";— /^aily Chronicle.

■' There are here all the qualities of ballad poetry, simplicity, direct-
ness, and vivid impression, aad the quick sympathy which lea.^% from
word to eye, and makes every reader yearn to be up and doing.

Literature.

"We should like to see these stirring verses in the hands of every
high-spirited youth in the Empire."— Gfooc,

CHRIST in HADES, and other Poems.

By STEPHEN PHILLIPS. Fifth Edition, with Addi-
tions, Is. net. [Shilling Garland Series.
" It is a wonderful dream, a dream that stirs the heart in almost
every line, though Christ Himself never utters a word throughout the
poem, but only brings His sad couutenance and bleeding brow and
torn hands into that imaginary world of half-conceived and chaotic
gloom."— Spectator.

TWO ESSAYS UPON MATTHEW

ARNOLB, with his Letters to the Author. By ARTHUR
GALTON. Fcap. Svo, 3s. 6d. net.
" It is good to be reminded of the man himself not only by the re-
appearance of his deliglitfal satire C Frieudship's Garland'), but by
such books as this tiny volume."— jTiWiea.

■* A small lx)ok, hut more in it than in many a heavier appreciation
of the great critic.*'— A'cote»mi>t.
"We heartily welcome this little hook. —Saturday Bev^«v^.

IRELAND, with other Poems. By

LIONEL JOHNSON. (Uniform with '* Poems.")
Crown Svo, 58. net.
" Mr. Johnson's poems, regarded at first rather as the austere exer-
cises of a ripe scholar, have now taken their proper place by reason of
the real fire aud imaginative fervour which underlie their technical
excellence."— H''e8(i?Hn«(er GazfUe. , ,_ _i „

" A poet whom the Irish readier will take to nis heart of hearts,

Freeman'$ Journal.

THE JOY of MY YOUTH. A Novel.

By CLAUD NICHOLSON. Crown Svo, Sa. 6d. net.
" There is very delicate work in * The Joy of My Youth.* There ia
Dot much story in it, but reminiscences from the history of a sen-
sitive man. peculiarly open to impressions and infiueuces from with-
out. It has a Breton background, and. indeed, there is nothing at »U

English about it Its style, its sentiment, its attitude were all made

in France. It has charm and subtlety, and the childhood portion,
with the blithe imaginative pictures of a boiuitiful and irresponsible
past, must captivate all r*adera who have time to linger in their

'*"'The delicate charm of this story is not realised until the reader has
read more than two or three chapters. The first chapter is un-
iutelUgible until the book is finished, and the ' we see that the author
has chosen to tell us of the end of his hero's life before he has told ua
of the beginning of it.. . .Mr. Nicholson writes with rare sympathyfor
and appieciation of French life."— ttltwyoir Herald.

"The hero is a charming child from first to last — Too delicate, too
cultivated, most will vote the iKwk ; but that judgment will ignore its
intentiou, which is fulfilled almost without a flaw."— BooA»ian.

SELECTED POEMS from the WORKS

of the Hon. EODEN NOKL. With a Bioirraphical and

Critical Essay by PEROY ADDLE8HAW. With i

Portraits. Crown Svo, 48. fid. net.

" Mr. Addleshaw hm done hi< work well. . . .It is iuoonceirable that

all will die of a poet endowed with so unleudid nn originality, thouah

clai miug Ictostup. ,by the rare blend of his <nialitie8 with BlaXe, Willi

Victor Jlugo, and with Edgar Poe."- ManclMUr Umrdiait,

AN ATTIC in BOHEMIA : a Diary

without Dates. By E. H. LACON WATSO>f. Author

of '* The Unconscious Humourist," Crown Svo,

3s, ad. net,

*' Mr. "VVatson discourse, with shrewdness and humour upon iuoh

topics as diaries, tea and muffins, golf atd matrimony.. ...Thew are

few writers who cau treat so deftly and so inti rtainmgljr the m<Mt

commouplaoe feelings and incidents of every.<hiy life. —MottntM.

*• The style is always fresh and graceful ; it is always easy witbout
losing a pleasant literary flavour and without degeneraUng into lUp-
shol slangiuess. His humour is sponuneuus (or seema to b« so
because he has the art of concealing hie arti, and a uille subaeld at
times, whereby it loees nothing in piquancy. Of the aeveateju CMJI
which make up the Tolume there is Dot one which does not oontain
some happy fancy, some quaint conceit, or some riirewd^Mtlon.

Loadon : ELKIN JIATUEWS, Vigo Street, \\.

THE ACADEMY.

[.Tatt. 15, 1898.

Mr.

T. FISHER UNWIN'S

SELECTED LIST.

WILL BE READY NEXT WEEK.

TOTJRaUENIEFP and HIS FRENCH OIR-

CLB • a 8»'rie» of Lftters to Flaulwrt. GeorRe Sand. Emile Zolft,
Out de Manoassant. GambetU. and Others. Edited by H.
HALPERINE-KAMINSKY. Trannlated, with a Preface, by
ETHEL M. ARNOLD. Cloth, 78. 6d.

WILL BE READY NEXT WEEK.

WILD NATURE WON by KINDNESS.

Bv Mrs. BBIOHTWEN. Many niustrations. New Edition (the
Eighth). Cloth, Is. 6d.

WILL BE READY NEXT WEEK.

HOW to be HAPPY THOUGH MARRIED.

Bv R«v E J. HARDY. M.A. New Edition, completing the
Fiftieth Thousand. Cloth, 3s. 6d.

THE GREEN OLOTH LIBRARY.

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JOITN OLIVER HOBBES. The School for Saints.

LORD ERNEST HAMILTON. The Outlaws of the Marches.

DR. WEIR MITCHELL. Hugh Wynne.

BENJAMIN SWIFT. The Tormentor.

OBORGB BARTRAM. The People of Clopton.

OLIVE SCHREINER. Trooper Peter Halket.

The WORK of CHARLES KEENE. Intro-
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tnitions. "Buckram. £3 13a. 6d. net.

LETTERS of DANTE GABRIEL" ROSSETTI

to WILLIAM ALLINGIIAM, 18M-1870. IIIu8trat«d, cloth, 128.

An ARTIST'S LETTERS from JAPAN. By

JOHN LA FARGE. Illustrated, cloth, Ifi-i.

The STORY of MARIE ANTOINETTE. By

ANNA L. BICKNELL. Illustrated, cloth. 12s.

LIVES of TWELVE BAD WOMEN. Edited

by ARTHUR VINCENT. Illustrated, cloth, 16s.

MARGARET PORSTBR: A Dream Within

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The LOVE AFFAIRS of SOME FAMOUS

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WILD LIFE in SOUTHERN SEAS. By

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MODERN FRANOE. By Andre Le Bon.

(New Volume of " The Story of the Nations.") Cloth, 58.

WITHOUT PREJUDICE. By I. Zangwill.

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GLIMPSES into PLANT LIFE. Bv Mrs.

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The CROWD = a Stndy of the Ponular Mind.

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THOSE DREADFUL TWINS : Middy and

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LIZA of LAMBETH- A Stuiy of London

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Le SBCVE. A Novel. By Oaida. Second

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LEIfiUBE HOURU in the STUDY. By

JAMES MACKINNON, Ph.D. Cloth, 6s.

AUSTRALASIAN DEVIOORACY.

HENRY DE R. WALKER. Demy 8vo. cloth, 6s.

A SELECTION fmra. the POEMS of

MATHILDE BLIND. Edited by ARTHUR SYMONS. Parch-
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A Set of Prospectuses, Catalotues, and Lists, containing
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Ifdeniredf arrangements can be made for intending
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London :
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HoMer &^ghton;sJnl)licatioDS.

RBADY NEXT WEEK.

Crown 8vo, cloth, 78. 6d.

THE BOOK OF THE

TWELVE PROPHETS.

COMMONLY CALLED THE MINOR.
By Prof. GEORGE ADAM SMITH, D.D., LL.D.,

THE SECOND VOLUME,

GOMPLETINC THE EXPOSITOR'S BiBLE

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They will, we are sure, be much prized by the many admirers of their

author."— fflasffow Herald.

THE CLERICAL LIFE. A Series of

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DAVID LYALL'S LOVE STORY. By

the AUTHOR of "THE LAND o" the LEAL."
Crown 8vo, gilt top, Os.

THE LAND o' the LEAL. By David

LYALL. Crown 8vo, f?ilt top, 6s.
" The tales are tender and pathetic, permeated with simple religious
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known as Sunday Ixwks. '—Tivies.

ON THE THRESHOLD OF CENTRAL

AFRICA. A Record of Twenty Years' Pioneeriag in
the Upper Zambesi, amongr the Banyai and Barotsi.
By FRANCOIS COILLARD, Paris Evanf^elical Mission.
Translated and Edited by C. W. MACKINTOSH, with
Photojfravare Portrait and 40 Illustrations from Photo-
RTapbs by the Author. Imperial Hvo, 15s.

"We do not remember to have read any hook of missionary adven-
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Completing Seventh Thoutand.

FRIENDSHIP. By the Rev. Hugh Black,

M.A., Free St. Georjre's, Edinburgh. Cloth, 2s. 6d.
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things winningly expressed, and though very simply written, is the
result of real thought and experience. Mr. Black's is the art that con-
ceals art."— BrUw^ Weekli/.

TO the ANGEL'S CHAIR. A Story of

Ideals in a Welsh Village. By the Rev. JOHN
THOMAS, M.A., Liverpool. Crown 8vo, 68., cloth.
" Written with a delicacy and sympathy that has not been equalled
for many a long day ."—Cftrwttan World.

THRO' LATTICE WINDOWS. By W. J.

D VWSON. Crown 8vo, cloth. 68.
"The choicest bit of literar,v work that has yet come from Mr.
Dawsou's gifted pen."— TAfi Methodist Recorder,

SBCOND KDITION.

THE LAST THINGS. A Study of the

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the Eternal City of God. By the Rev. J. AGAR BEET,

D.D. Crown 8vo, cloth, 68.

" The Right Rev. G. A. Chadwick, D.D., Bishop of Derry and

Raphoe, says :—" The most sober and careful, as well as thorough and

trustworthy examination known to me of the scriptural teaching on

Future Punishment."

MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. From her

Birth to her Flight into England. A Brief Biography,
with Critical Notes, a few Documents hitherto Un-
published, and an Itinerary. By D. HAY FLEMING,
Crown 8vo, cloth, 78. 6d.
" As a critical history and a magazine of facts, the book is an
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towards an historical judgment of Mary. It will secure Mr. Fleming
an honourable reputation for fine scholarship and patient i'ldtistry."

Academy.

THIRD EDITION.

THE SILENCE OF GOD. By Robert

ANDERSON, C.B., LL.D., Assistant-Commissioner of
Pohce ot the Metropolis. 8vo. cloth, 58.
*' He writes forcibly, elo(|uently, with much knowledge of what
others think and say, and with profound conviction and confidence."

Daily Newn.
Dr. Anderson's book is well worth reading."— TAe Qlaagovu Herald.

BY FAR EUPHRATES: a Tale. By

D. ALCOCK, author of "The Spanish Brothers."
Crown 8vo, cloth, Ss.
•' This is a vivid story of sublime heroism in the face of fiendish
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London: Hoddie & SionoHroH, 27, Paternoster Row, B.C.

OLIP^NT^_LIST.

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THOUGHTS on the SPIBITUAL LIFE.

By JACOB BBHMEN. Translated from the (ierman
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ROBERT FERGUSON.

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In the same Series, uniform in price and style.

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Sir HKNRY IRVING— '*A most interesting Iwok, which ought
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The SyECTATOR.~>*yir. Carter has, by a clear-headed historical
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MODERN PALESTINE ; or, the Need

of a New Crusade, iiy Rev. JOHN LAMOND, B.D.
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Now ready, cloth extra, price 2fi. fld.

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. By

Rev. GEORGE JACKSON, B.A., of the Wesleyan

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The rOUSG JMJV.— "These are, in the best sense of the

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tn settle the problems and difficulties of life according to the spirit and

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THE CHINESE CRISIS-BOOKS TO READ.
CHINA.

A CYCLE of CATHAY : China, South

and North, with Personal Eerainiacences. By
W. A. P MARTIN. D.D., LL.D., ex-Pr sident Emeritus i
of the Imperial Tungwen College, Pekin. With Map
and Numerous lUnstrations. 78. 6d,
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CHINESE CHARACTERISTICS. By

ARTHUR H. SMITH, D.D. Popular Edition. Re-
vised with 16 Fiil!-Pi*i?e Illustrations, 5s.
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• Chinese Ch-iracteristics ' has des«rvedly achiBved for itself a positiou
among ihe standard works indiepensable to every student of the Par
Kast.^

THE GIST

JAPAN.

of JAPAN:

the Islands,

their People, and Missions. By Rev. R. B. PEERY,
A.M With 8 Poll-Paee lUnstrations, pri-e 6s.
The ATREXjEUil 8tys: "Mr. IVery's volume portrays with ad-
mirable truth aud justice the Jiip,iaese people."

FORMOSA.

FROM FAR FORMOSA : the Island,

its People and Mission". Bv GEORfJE LESLIE
MAOKAY, D.D., Twenty-three Yea' 8 a Missionary in
Formosa. Edited by the Rev. .1, A. MACDOMALD.
Third Edition. With Portraits, Illuairations, and
Alani^ 7s Gd
TheZ,O.vV)0y'aiid Cff/iV4 TET.BGRAPg —"'The work is Taltt-

able aud entertaining, and is as good an account of the island as the

general reader will desire."

OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FERRIEB, ;

21, Paternoster Square ; and Edinhur«h.

Tax. 15, 1898."]

THE ACADEMY.

CONTENTS.

■Our AwiBDs fob 1897 :

Mr. Stephen Phillips's Poems
Mr. Henley's Essay on Bums

H«Tixwe :

Pindar's Rival

Popular Anthropology

South Africa

Criticism from a Distance ...

CuirxB Mmtiok

EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.
Iktskvibw with Dr. J. B. C. Wbildox ...
Ebucatioh for thb Civil Sbbvicb of IwdiA-
■What thb People Rbad : VIlI., A Schoolboy

The Trade in School Books

Newspapib English

Eeviews :

Science

English

French

"Thb Classics:

Greek

Latin

Notbs and News

'RxpirrATioNs Reconsidered :

rv., Matthew Arnold

A Fobgottbn Novel bt Jahes Anthony Fhoude

A Gebuan Mabb's Nest

Thi Booz Marxbt

The Week

New Books Received

DXAKA

'OOBBBSPONDEirCS ...

Pi.Sl

... 47

... 48

... 49

... «0

... 51

... 63

OUR AWARDS FOR 1897.

THE "CEOWNED" BOOKS.

IN accordance with our intention to crown
two books of sig^nal merit published in
1897, we have made the following awards :

ONE HUNDEED GUINEAS to Me.
Stephen Phillips, for his volume of Poems.

FIFTY GUINEAS to Mr. William
Ernest Henley, for his Essay on the Life,
■Genius, and. Achievement of Burns, contained
in the fourth volume of the Centenary
Edition of Tlie Poetry of Robert Burns.

The bestowal of the awards has been beset
with difficulties. As our readers have had
an opportxmity of seeing, the men of letters
of whom we requested an opinion differed
flo completely as to be of little help as
guides. The task of selectLag recipients,
therefore, devolved wholly upon ourselves.
Before proceeding to choose, it was neces-
sary first to reply to the question : Are these
awards intended more for the encouragement
or for the recognition of merit ? In other
words : Is it more desirable to find young
writers of striking potentialities and to help
them on their way, or to select two of the
best books of the year irrespective of the
age or standing of their authors? The
answer was that, in the present instance,
€xcellence of performance was to be pre-
ferred above richness of promise, " excel-
lence " as here used implying good matter,
good manner, and good personality. So
much premised, we turned to our duty.

The result of a searching inquiry into the
merits of some half-score of tlie foremost
books of 1897 was that a cheque for one
hundred guineas has been sent to Mr.
Stephen Phillips for his volume of Poems,
and a cheque for fifty guineas to Mr.
W. E. Henley for his essay on Burns.
In other columns the reader will find
articles on these works, which should afford
reasons enough for the faith that is in
us. It is not likely that the choice will
please everyone — indeed, the suggestions
from outside which have already been
printed in the Academy are sufficient testi-
mony to the contrary — but the most patient
consideration of the whole matter convinces
us that we have done well.

Mr. Stephen Phillips's poetical rivals
were three in number — Mr. Francis Thomp-
son, Mr. "Watson, and Mr. Newbolt. We
think, however, of Mr. Thompson's 1897
volume more as a collection of magnifi-
cent experiments than matured poems ;
whQe, on the other hand, Mr. William
Watson's Hope of the World causes us to
glance back to what he has done rather
than to look forward to what he may do.
More persistent rivalry was that of Mr.
Newbolt, whose Admirals All holds in its
thirty pages a kind of straightforward,
vigorous, musical, national verse of which
Englishmen cannot have too much. But good
though we consider these ballads, they have
not the shining merit of Mr. Phillips's work,
nor can we hold them quite worthy of the
honour of "coronation."

In criticism Mr. Henley's position was
contested by Mr. W. P. Ker's JEpic and
Romance, Mr. Walter Ealeigh's Style, and
Mr. Arthur Symons's Studies in Two Litera-
tures. Against each, however, some objec-
tion held. Mr. Ker's volume, erudite and
fascinating though it be, is eminently
academic — that is to say, the good per-
sonality that might be there, and in a work
of literature should be there, has been too
vigorously suppresed in the cause of learn-
ing. Mr. Ealeigh's brilliant essay has
literary skill and distinction in a degree
not often to be met with ; but it savours
over much of a tour de force. Mr. Symons's
Studies in Two Literatures is a thoughtful,
graceful work, but it is detached, a series
of flutters rather than a steady flight.

Other claimants were, especially in fiction,
numerous, and possessed of considerable
right to be heard. Mr. Joseph Conrad's Nigger
of the " Narcissus" TfiOB judged to be too
slight and episodic, although we consider it a
remarkable imaginative feat, marked by
striking literary power. Again, Mr. Benjamin
Swift's The Tormentor stands out as a vivid
and commendable performance, although its
author's method is stiU too immature
anl spasmodic to be within the scope

of the Academy's awards. Mr. Kipling
has himself fixed his standard too high for
Captains Courageous to be satisfying ; and
The Skipper's Wooing by Mr. Jacobs and The
King with Two Faces by Miss Coleridge, in
different ways, do not quite comply with
the requirements set forth in the definition
of " excellence " given above. The author
of St. Ices is, alas, dead. Mrs. Craigie, we
may add, expressed a wish that T}ie School
for Saints should not be entered for com-
petition.

Two otlier claimants remain : Mme.
Darmesteter for her Life of Renan, and
Mrs. Constance Gamett for her admirable
translation of Turgenev's novels into
English. Mrs. Gamett has been at work
for some years in the prosecution of her
task ; but it came practically to an end
in 1897 with the publication of the eleventh
volume — Torrents of Spring. Translation
was held, however, to be outside our
scope ; and Mme. Darmesteter's biography,
beautiful and tender thougli it be, had to
give place to Mr, Henley's Burns.

ME. STEPHEN PHILLIPS'S POEMS.

It is but a fortnight ago that we reviewed
Mr. Stephen Phillips's work at some length ;
and we have not much to add now to what
was said then. Mr. Phillips has qualities
out of which the very staff of poetry is
wrought. He is sensitive, with fibres that
respond quickly to the pity and the passion
of the world ; he is thouglitful, curious
after certain subtleties of thought, ready for
philosophy ; he has a feeling for style
which impresses us as being of natural
growth, rather than painfully acquired ; and
above all, he takes his art seriously. His
heart is attuned to the beauty and the
meaning of tilings, and to those who have
ears to hear he will endeavour to interpret
them. The author of the following lines,
which we had not room to quote in our
review, has surely seen deep into nature's
heart:

"By the Se.*..

" Remember, ah remember, how we walked
Together on the sea-cliff! You were come
From bathing in the ocean, and the sea
Was not yet dry upon your hair ; together
We walked in the wet wind till we were far
From voices, even from the thoughts of men.
Remember how on the warm beach we sat
By the old barque, and in the smell of tar ;
While the full ocean on the pebbles dropped,
And in our ears the intimate low wind
Of noon, that breathing from some ancient

place,
Blew on us merest sleep and pungent youth.
So deeply glad he grew that in pure joy
Closer we came ; your wild and wet dark hair
Slashed in my eyes your essence and your

sting.
We had no thought ; we troubled not to speak;
Slowly your head fell down upon my breast,
In the soft breeze the acquiescing sun;
And Uie sea-bloom, the colour of calm wind,
Was on your cheek ; like children then we

kissed,

THE ACADEMY.

[.Tax. 15, 1898.

Innocent with the sea and pure with air ;
My spirit fled into thee. The moon climbed,
The sea foamed nearer, and we two arose ;
But ah, how tranquil from that deep embrace !
And with no sadness from that natural kiss :
Beautiful indolence was on our brains.
And on our limbs, as we together swayed.
Between the luminous ocean and dark fields.
We two in vivid slumber without haste,
Eetumed ; while veil on veil the heaven was

bared ;
And a new glory was on land and sea.
And the moist evening fallow, richly dark.
Sent up to us the odour cold of sleep.
The infinite sweet of death : so we returned,
Delaying ever, calm companions.
Peacefully slow beside the moody heave
Of the moon-briUiant billow to the town."

Mr. Phillips has also a more realistic
manner. Modem life wants its poet badly
enough ; and if Mr. Phillips can show us
anything of heavenly beauty or of tragic
terror under its tawdriness and its squalor,
ho will earn a reward that all Academies
in the world cannot give him. But, for the
moment, he seems to us confused with the
spectacle he looks at — the glare of the gas-
lamps blind him ; we hear in his verses the
roar of what he calls " the orchestral
Strand," but not any central melody; he
has not set the life of London to any music,
but only reproduced some of its discords.

Yet that he will find a music of his own
we are confident, for in both his long poems
of modem life^i7(<' Wife smA The Wonmnwiih
the Bead Soul — there are passages which,
taken alone, would almost justify our selec-
tion. Mr. Phillips is labouring to find out
precisely what he means, and to put down
none biit true and genuine impressions.
That singular instinct for the right word,
80 characteristic of him at his best, helps
him to flash the picture time after time
upon our consciousness ; and we are con-
vinced that popularity, if it comes his way,
will not tempt him to remit his labour.
He has solidly laid the foundation-stone
of a fine reputation. May the edifice
grow to ample and enduring proportions !

ME. HENLEY'S ESSAY ON BUENS.

The first thing — and, for the matter of
that, the last thing— that strikes one in
Mr. Henley's essay is the victorious art of
it. So far, it is its author's masterpiece,
in the sense that, being more largely and
deliberately planned than any of his former
ventures in criticism, it yet loses nothing,
for all its superadded qualities, of the old
brilliancy, lightness, and deftness of touch.
In Views aud Reviews, Mr. Henley was the
heau sahreur of the weekly press. It was open
to him — you are sure he did not undervalue
the privilege — to take up and lay down his
subjects as he chose, to vent his likes and
dislikes, to kick up his heels in audacity
and paradox, to be personal, whimsical, irre-
sponsible. The result was a suggestive,
fascinating, disputable little book. It was
fine criticism, but not altogether serious
criticism. But in dealing with Bums Mr.
Henley was bouLd to be serious. It fell to
him to say the last words which should sum

up a long and elaborate investigation into
masses of detailed and often inconsistent
evidence. He had to pronounce a deliberate
literary judgment, to take up a considered
position which would be tenable in the face
of almost inevitable outcry. He has not
shirked the responsibilities laid upon him.
Both in this essay and in the commentary,
for which he shares the credit with Mr.
T. r. Henderson, the signs of a minute and
rigorous industry are apparent. And the
verdict given is a solid one, standing com-
plete, four square to all the winds that
blow. Disagree with it who will, it is
impossible to challenge the patience, the
sincerity, the conscientiousness with which
it is formulated. For all this, it is, as we
have said, the art of the thing that strikes
us first and last. Mr. Henley has followed
the Dry-as-dust's method to spurn the Dry-
as-dust's results. The i)ains which he has
spent upon bis work, the mass of closely
studied facts and opinions which lie behind
it, are suffered no whit to affect the vigour
and freshness of the expression which it
finds. The phrasing is as vivid and clear-
cut, the metaphors are as ringing, as ever.
Gregory, schooled in the University, has not
forgotten his swashing blow.

One of Mr. Henley's reviewers — from
" ahint the Border," of course — has ex-
pressed his disappointment that Mr. Henley
" has not even attempted to give Bums his
place in European literature." As though
criticism were a class-list or a liorse-race !
Mr. Henley knew his business better. And
this was, not to compare the incomparables
or measure the incommensurables, but, for
once, to paint from the life ; to thrust aside
the veils of ignorance or idealism, and to give
the man and the poet in his habit as he
stood. Burns has been pawed over often
enough hj patriots and sentimentalists ; let
us for once have the plain imvarnished
truth, not explained away, not excused,
not necessarily even condemned — simply
stated. Such we conceive to have been the
critical ideals which Mr. Henley set before
him in undertaking his task, and with what
vigilance, what zest he lives up to them !
How salient his portrait ! how it stands out
from the canvas! with what economy and
precision of line the artist insists on what
he means to say. Let us recall some of the
fine passages in which Mr. Henley's concep-
tion of Burns, a vital and creative con-
ception, a conception with which it shall go
hard if it be not permanent, is built up.
And first of Burns the man :

" We have to recall the all-important fact
that Bums was first and last a peasant, and
first and last a peasant in revolt against the
Kirk, a peasant resolute to be a buck. . . ,
He was absolutely of his station and his time,
the poor-living, lewd, grimy, free-spoken,
ribald old Scots peasant world came to a full,
brilUant, even majestic, close in his work."

Of the Bums of the sentimentalist, and
especially of the 'unco' guid' sentimentalist,
Mr. Henley wiU have nothing :

" The tame, proper, figmentary Bums, the coin-
age of their own tame, proper brains, which
they have done their best to substitute for the
lewd, amazing peasant of genius, the inspired
faun, whose voice has gone ringing through the
courts of Time these hundred years and more.

and is far louder and far clearer now than wheu
it first broke on the ear of man."

And if Mr. Henley will not palter with or
slur over the facts about Bums, neither will
he apologise for them. What need, indeed,
of apology, now, in the retrospect ? Is it
not enough just to understand ?

" There needs but little knowledge of charac-
ter and life to see that to apologise for Bums is
vain; that we must accept him frankly and
without reserve for a peasant of genius perverted
from his peasanthood, thrust into a place for
which his peasanthood and his genius alike
unfitted him, denied a perfect opportunity,
constrained to live his qualities into defects,
and in the long run beaten by a sterile and un-
natural environment. We cannot make him
other than he was, and, especially, we cannot
make him a man of our own time : a man bom
tame and civil and luiexcessive — ' he that died
o' Wednesday,' and had obituary notices in
local prints. His elements are ail-too gross,
are aU-too vigorous and turbulent for that.
' God have mercy on me,' he once wrote of him-
self, ' a poor damned, incautious, duped, un-
fortunate fool ! the sport, the miserable victim
of rebelUous pride, hypochondriac imaginations,
agonising sensibility, and bedlam passions.'
Plainly he knew himself as his apologists have
never known him, nor will ever Imow."

Nor is Mr. Henley's vision less keen, his
hand less sure, when he passes from the
analysis of Bums's temperament to the con-
sideration of his achievement. Certain
critical points he certainly puts better, more
judiciously then they have ever been put
before. The debt of Burns to his forebears,
to Ramsay and Ferg^sson, and the nameless
many, is insisted on, justly and without
exaggeration ; it is for Bums as the in-
heritor of a folk-tradition, of a long line of
peasant bards, that Mr. Henley claims our
especial admiration. The triumphs that he
allows him are all triumphs of the vernacular
muse. When he "falls to his English " ha
is one stumbling in a foreign language,
imitating liis writing master's copy. Of
the secrets of English speech he knows
nothing. " He wrote the heroic couplet
(on the Dryden-Pope convention) clumsily;"
" he was a kind of bob-naUed Gray." For
the great Englishmen bis sympathy was
imperfect.

"Thus, if he read Milton, it was largely, if
not wholly, with a view to getting himself up
as a kind of Tarbolton Satan. He was careless,
so I must contend, of Shakespeare. With such '
knowledge as he could glean from song-books,
he was altogether out of touch with the
Ehzabethans and the Carolines. Outside the
vernacular, in fact, he was a rather unlettered
Eighteenth Century Englishman, and the
models which he must naturally prefer before
all others were academic, stilted, artificial aud
xmexemplarj- to the highest point."

But " he had the sole ear of the vernacular
muse." As a lyrist, in the peasant manner,
simple, vivid, direct, singing of the elemental
qualities of life, he is unsurpassed ; and of
his descriptivepoems, when it is thepeasantry
that he describes, the level is hardly lower.
His highest, most enduring characteristics,
Mr. Henley is inclined to formulate as
humour, a "broad, rich, prevailing" humour.
Beauty, in the sheer sense of the word, he
would deny him. '^^^-'m

" It is not, remember, for ' the love of lovely
word?,' not for such perfections of human utter- ,

Jan. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

ance as abound in Shakespeare, in Milton, in
Keats, Id Herrick, that we revert to Bums.
Felicities he has — felicities innumerable; but
his forebears set themselves to be humorous,
racy, natural, and he could not choose but
follow their lead. The Colloquial triumphs in
his verse as nowhere outside the Vision and
Don Juan; but for beauty we must go else-
whither. He has all manner of qualities : wit,
fancy, vision of a kind, nature, gaiety, the
richest humour, a sort of homespun verbal
magic. But, if we be in quest of Beauty, we
must e'en ignore him, and 'fall to our English ' :
of whose secrets, as I've said, he never so much
as susjiected the existence, and whose supreme
capacities were sealed from him until the end."

It need hardly be said that Mr. Henley's
treatment, whether of the man or the poet,
has not passed unchallenged. He is not
careful to avoid controversy, rather trails
his coat of purpose, for " the common
Bumsite." The green olive-branch of a
pacific life was never a button-hole for him.
Urbanity has always been unrecognisable
in his literary ideal. But we may leave "the
common Burnsite " to fend for himself.
We do not, indeed, suppose that Mr. Henley
has given us the definitive portrait of Bums.
In criticism, indeed, there is nothing de-
finitive. Always and inevitably the tem-
perament of the critic must colour the
personality seen through its medium. This
is Mr. Henley's Bums ; it is not the whole
Bums. Mr. Stevenson's Bums is another.
The critics who are to come will have their
own. But the balancing of critical tem-
peraments may safely be left to the long
process of time. In the meantime, let us
be grateful to Mr. Henley's art for having
given us the real presentment of a real man.

REVIEWS.

PINDAR'S RIVAL.

The Poems of Bacchylides. Edited by F. G.
Kenyon, M.A., D. Litt. (British Museum.)

Tee revival of classical discovery has come
at a happy time for scholars. Since those
heady days of the humanists, when any
fugitive from Greece might disclose the
priceless MS. of some new poet, some four
centuries had passed. Grammarians and
philologists had long ceased to look for new
materid, and were already within measur-
able distance of exhausting the possibilities
of ingenious speculation afforded by the
old. About Homer and Sophocles there
■was really not much more to be said. The
reconstruction of Gh-eek civilisation — so far,
at least, as the evidence of written texts
was concerned — seemed weU-nigh complete.
Then, slowly, the tombs in the Egyptian
'Bands began to give up their dead, and
the learned world was once more agog.
Among the swathings of mummies, in
the rubbish heaps of ancient cities, ardent
•explorers disinterred papyrus after papyrus.
The museimis of Europe are choked with
■them now, and as they are painfully
flattened out, pieced together, and deci-
phered, every once and again, among the
dehrk of ritual treatises and farm accounts,

some real treasure-trove rewards the labour.
None of the Bii Majores have yet appeared.
Some day we may be electrified by the
announcement of a volume of Sappho's lyrics,
or a play of Menander; but in the meantime
a treatise of Aristotle on the Polity of Athens
has set the constitutional historians correct-
ing their facts and suppressing their hypo-
theses, Hyperides has been added to the
already adequate supply of orators, the
mimes of Herodas have revealed an entirely
new genre of urban poetry, while the Logia
of Jesus form an important contribution to
our knowledge of the conflicting tendencies
of primitive Christianity.

More important than any of these, from
the point of view of pure literature, are the
Odes of Bacchylides, now edited with great
pains and skill from a British Museum
papyrus of the middle of the first century
B.C. by Mr. F. G. Kenyon. Of Bacchylides
we had but a hundred lines of fragments
and the laudatory notices of the Alexan-
drian and Byzantine critics. We knew that
he wrote in the first half of the fifth
century, that he was bom in Ceos, that he
came of poetic stock, being the nephew of
Simonides, that he was exiled from the
island and dwelt in the Peloponnese. Like
Pindar, he found a patron in Hieron, the
tyrant of Syracuse, and the two poets were
in a way rivals. Pindar, indeed, is supposed
to allude to Bacchylides in phrases of some
asperity. He was, however, held to be one
of the nine lyric poets of Greece, and
the author of the treatise De iSublimi-
tate affords him considerable praise. He
does not put him on Pindar's level,
but ascribes to him a " smooth, equable,
and pleasing " genius, which neither
rises so high nor sinks so low as
that of his great contemporary. Thanks
to Mr. Kenyon, we are now able, for
the first time, to verify the substantial
justice of this criticism. It is unlikely that
the papyrus, even when perfect, contained
the whole works of Bacchylides, but even
as it is it preserves enough to make him
once more an actual personality and not
merely the shadow of a name. Certainly
he will not oust Pindar from his pride of
place : he has not the wide sweep —

" the ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bare.
Sailing with supreme dominion.
Through the azure deep of air."

" His merits," says Mr. Kenyon, truly
enough, " are merits rather of art than in-
vention. He has lucidity, grace, picturesque-
ness, and an easy command of rhythm."
More than Pindar, he has certain char-
acteristically classical qualities, the serenity
and the sense of form of the typical Hellene.
Bacchylides is to Pindar, says Mr. Kenyon
again, as Sophocles is to iEschylus. He
might have added as Tennyson is to
Browning.

There is, of course, much work yet to be
done on Bacchylides. It is understood that
an edition by Prof. Jebb is in prospect, and
no one is better fitted for the task. In the
meantime, the admirable editio princeps
which Mr. Kenyon has given us deserves
especial praise. Mr. Kenyon has wisely
boon sparing of emendation, but he has
been liberal of introductory matter and of

apparatus eriticus. He prints on opposite
pages the uncials of the papyrus and a version
in ordinary Greek text ; to these he proposes
to add, in a separate volume, a photographic
facsimile of the whole MS. The measure
of Mr. Kenyon' s labour may be taken when
we learn that his material reached him in
the form of about 200 torn fragments.
These had to be pieced together, like a
Chinese puzzle, and as a result we have,
besides small unplaced fragments, twenty
distinguishable poems, of which six are
practically complete, while the others have
suffered a greater or less amount of mutila-
tion. The first fourteen odes, as arranged
by Mr. Kenyon, were written, like all those
of Pindar that we possess, in celebration of
victories at the athletic games ; the remain-
ing six are of a novel and far more interest-
ing character. Technically they are probably
psoans or dithjTambs, intended tobesimgby
choirs at festivals of Apollo or Dionysus.
But they belong to a stage in the develop-
ment of these forms in which the literary
interest has become predominant, while the
religious element has been reduced to a
perfunctory line or two. In effect they are
lyrical idyUs, brief studies of moments in
legends which had been the subject of
earlier epical treatment. They are full of
appeal to the vision, and, but for the lyrical
form, correspond very closely to such poems of
Tennyson's as " Oinone." The most interest-
ing of all is the eighteenth, for this is the
only extant example of such an idyll pre-
sented dramatically and showing the type
of the lyrical hymn as modified by imita-
tion of the already nascent di-ama. We
venture to offer a translation for the
benefit of Greek-less readers. The dialogue
is between iEgeus, king of Athens,
and his wife, Medea, who speak altemate
strophes. Theseus, the son of uT^geus, who
has been brought up at Troezen, is coming
to Athens, doing deeds of heroism on his
way. A herald has announced the advent
of a formidable stranger.

" ' King of sacred Athens I Lord of the loniaus
who live delicately 1 Why has the trumpet's
brazen note even now blared forth its warlike
message? Is it that some foeman with his
host besets the frontiers of our land? Or
do raiders of evil intent harry the herds by
force, hungry for fat cattle ? Or of what does
thy heart misgive thee ? Speak ; for of all men
thou, I ween, hast brave young hearts at need,
thou, a king sprung from Pandion and Creusu.'

jEQEUS.

' But oven now came a herald, footing it over
the long Isthmian way ; and unheard deeds of
a mighty door he tells. The insolent Sinis he
has slain, strongest among men, the child of
Ki-onos' son who split the ravine and shsikes the
earth. He has slain the man-eater in the glens
of Krommyon, and slain Skiron who lorded it
in might. He has stayed the wrestling-school
of Kerkyon, and the dread club of Polypt^mon
has Prokoptes dropped, for he met with the
better man. My heart misgives me how these
things shall end.'

MEBE.i.

' Whom reports he the man to be, and whence
coming ? What his garb ? Brings he a great
aiTay in hai-ness of war, or comes he alone and
unarmed, like some wandering merchant to an

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 15, 1898.

alien land, this man who is so strong and brave
!\nd bold, that he has quelled the strength of
mighty champions? Sui-ely some god impels
him, that he may wreak justice on the unjust.
How else should one be doing always and light
on no mischance :•* But of all this will time see
the issue.'

MONJS.

' Two squires and no more he tells of, and a
sword on the gleaming shoulders, and in the
hands two pol£hed darts. Upon his auburn
hair is a cunning helm of Lacedaimon, and for
raiment he has a piu-ple shirt and a woolly
mantle of Thessalian weft. The light in his
eyes is as the fires of Lemnos. Only a lad is he,
iu the morning of life. His heart is set on the
joys of Ares — war and the clash of bronze in
battle. And his questing is for the splendours
of Athens town.' "

Surely a living picture of this knight-
errant of the prime :

" A fair}- prince, with joyful eyes,
And lighter-footed than the fox,"

The curious in literary parallels may
compare the relation of this dramatic idyll
to the contemporary drama of Athens,
with tliat of the East Midland poem, " The
Harrowing of Hell," to its contemiiorary
diama of the great mystery-play cycles.

POPULAE ANTHEOPOLOGY.

The nhtortj of Mankind. By Prof. Fr.
Eatzel. Translated from the Second
German Edition by A. J. Butler, M.A.
Vol. II. (MacmiUan & Co.)

ly the present volume Prof. Eatzel deals
with the aborigines of the New World, the
Arctic races of Europe and Asia, and the
Negro and Negrito inhabitants of Africa.
Here are at once seen some of the dis-
advantages inseparable from his geographical
distribution of the subject-matter of this
comprehensive treatise on the main divisions
of the liuman family. The plan answers
well enough for America, which has prac-
tically been an isolated and independent
ethnical domain from the Stone Ages down
to the Discover}'. But it breaks down com-
pletely when we come to the great divisions
of the Eastern Hemisphere. Thus we here
see the Arctic peoples detached from the
Mongolic stock, with which most of these
" H\-perborean8 " (Lapps, Samoyedes,
Ostiaks, Yakuts, Tunguses, &c.) are un-
doubtedly connected. The case is even
worse in Africa, where the Negro and
Negrito aborigines are divorced from the
kindred Papuans, Melanesians, and others
of the Oceanic world described in the first
volume.

It is, however, but fair to add that this
inconvenient arrangement is somewhat
obviated in the introductory section, where
the essential unity of tlie several branches
of each main division is emphasised, and
where a somewhat higher level is maintained
than in the discussion of details. But
perhaps this could not well be other-
wise. It is given to but few to master
the rich materials that have accumulated
in recent years on the countless tribes and
peoples spread over the globe, whereas it

may lie within the jwwer of many to draw
tolerably correct general conclusions on
fundamental ethnological questions even
from desultory reading. Our author may
also plead, in excuse for many shortcomings,
that he writes for the general public, as is
evident enough from his avoidance of all
reference to autliorities, except, indeed, of
the vaguest kind. But we are here re-
minded that even " the man in the street "
has now become critical, and is apt to resent
being put off with the shadow for the sub-
stance when consulting works of this sort
for accurate information. What, for in-
stance, is he to make of the barren and
misleading statement (p. 49) thatthe Yuncas
lived " near Truxillo on the coast " ? Surely
space might have been found to say a little
more about the most civilised, and in every
respect the most important, people of South
America in 2)re-Inca times. Yunca was not,
in fact, the name of any single tribe, but
the collective name applied by the Peruvians
to several highly cultured groups, who were
not confined to Truxillo, but who extended
along the seaboard for about ten degrees of
latitude, and on the site of whose chief city.
Grand Chimu, TruxiUo now stands.

On the same page we are told that "it is
princijjally to Karl von den Steinen and
Ehrenreich that we owe a grouping by
languages of the Brazilian tribes." What
wiU Spix and Martins, d'Orbigny, or even
Dr. Brinton, say to this ? The above-
mentioned travellers have, no doubt, recently
done excellent work in Central Brazil, where
they have discovered the probable cradle-
land of the Carib race. But they would be the
last to claim priority for a general linguistic
classification of the Brazilian aborigines, a
classification which, as far as this writer is
aware, they have not yet undertaken.

Passing to North America, we come upon
a strangely inadequate account of the great
Dakotan (Siouan) nation, whichismainlj' con-
fined to the Mississippi-Missouri basin, as if
that were its original home, although recent
research has j'laced beyond doubt the fact
that their earliest seats lay in Virginia, the
Carolinas, and other parts of the Atlantic
slope. The point should not have been
overlooked, because of its importance in the
history of the Dakotan migrations, which
are now shown to have trended westwards
to their present domain, and not from the
Pacific side, as formerly supposed.

Most perfmictory is the treatment of the
American languages, which are said (p. 22)
to be " based on an agglutinative system,"
whereas most of them are t^'pical poly-
synthetic forms of speech. No examples
are given, without which it is quite im-
possible to convey a clear idea of the
strangely involved structure of this linguistic
group. Here also reference is made to a
" Maklak language," which is not otherwise
located, and which appears now to be heard
of for the first time.

But many of these shortcomings in the
American section may well be forgiven for
the author's opportune remarks on the
evolution of American culture independently
of Old World influences. Those anthropo-
logists who still trace everything to the
Eastern Hemisphere, whence little or nothing
came after the Stone Ages, and -who find

the prototypes of Cholula, Uxmal, and
Tiahuanaco in the pyramids of Egypt, the-
Hindu temples of Java or Camboja, and
the monolithic monuments of Brittany or
Britain, should reflect that

" when peojile began to di-aw parallels between
the cultured races of America and those of the
Old World, they overlooked those numerous-
points of aflBnity existing in the matter of
culture among individual races all over the-
world, from the highest religious conceptions
down to peculiarities iu the style of their
weapons or their tattooing, and looked for a
limited region — by preference in South or East
Asia — as a centre of migration and x-adiation.
But the origin of the old American civilisations
will never be traceable to a particular comer of
the earth, nor to any of the still surviving^
civilised races, and all attempts to do so have
remained fruitless. The roots of those wonder-
ful developments reach down rather to some-
primeval common property of all mankind,
which found time in the thousands of years-
which precede history to spread itself over the-
earth. In other parts of the earth its develop-
ment was more rapid than in America, which
lacks in situation and natural endowment
certain accelerating forces that have been
bestowed on the Old "World. . . . Nevertheless-
we may hold fii-mly to the relationship of the
Americans with the East Oceanic branch of the-
Mongoloid race " (p. 170).

The apparent contradiction implied in the-
last clause of this quotation is explained by
the author's view, enlarged upon elsewhere,
that the American aborigines are autoch-
thonous only in a relative sense, that they
were an offshoot probably oi the Malayo-
Polynesian division of the Mongol stock,,
and that they spread to the New World
in remote prehistoric times. Since then
their relations with the Oceanic peoples
came to an end, or at -least no regular-
communications were ma ntained between
the populations on both si^'es of the Pacific;
consequentiy the culture of the mound-
builders, Pueblo Indians, Mexicans, Maya-
Quiches, Chibchas, Chimus, and Peruvians
are to be regarded as independent local
developments, practically unaffected by tlie
civilisations of the Ea.stem Hemisphere.
This doctrine is not new ; indeed, it was
advocated some years ago in the article on
the " American Indians " contributed to the-
last edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica,
and has since been steadily gaining ground
among ethnologists and archteolog^sts. .
But it is here presented in a somewhat
modified form from several new points of
view, and is supported by a considerable-
number of fresh facts and inferences.

In the Arctic section the student is arrested
by the statement that the Yakuts are
disappearing, and that their ten tribes " do
not number on an average more than three
hundred each," or, say, 3,000 altogether
(p. 226). They are, on the contrary,
the most energetic and progressive of all
the Siberian peoples, and we are told by
M. Sierochevsky {Ethnographic Eenearches,
1896) that they number at present about-
200,000, spread over a territory some two
million square miles in extent, though
chiefly concentrated along the river banks
between the Lena and the .AJdana. The-
Turki origin of these hardy Hyperborean*
is fully confirmed by this observer.

Jan. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

Although the treatment of the Alrican
races is, on the whole, somewhat more satis-
factory, here also occur many views and
statements of facts which must be received
with extreme caution. Both the negro
cradle-land and negro culture, such as it
is, are traced on the feeblest grounds to
Western or Southern Asia. We cannot
find that any exception is made even for
iron, which was almost certainly of African
origin, and which, as clearly shown by M.
Gabriel de MortiUet {Formation de la Nation
Frangaise, 1897), was introduced into Europe
not from Asia, but from the Dark Continent.
In this connexion, Lepsius' exploded theory
of the Hamitic origin of the Hottentot
language is revived, and spoken of as "a
stimulating idea," while the Hamites them-
selves are "immigrants probablj' from Asia"
(p. 248). The home of the Hamites is to
be sought rather in North Africa, and if
the kinship of the Berber and Basque
languages, suggested by the late G. von der
Gabelenz, is ever established, then the same
region wiU have to be regarded as the cradle
of the Semites as well, the fundamental con-
ueidon of the Hamito-Semitic linguistic
family having now been placed beyond
reasonable doubt.

The translation shows no improvement on
that of the first volume. There is the same
painful struggle with involved German
sentences, and too often even with quite
simple expressions, while the defective
knowledge of details is constantly betrayed
by the writer's helplessness when grappling
with obscure or erroneous statements in the
original. Thus we have such expressions
as "two monstrous islands," where vast or
huge is meant ; " Africa is better off for in-
habitants than," &c., meaning more thickly
peopled ; " shabby " applied to wooden
spoons of poor workmanship ; "a pre-
eminent delicacy of tools " ; " foreign bodies
of manners " ; " reaches of the road " ;
"benumbed by Nature's lavishness " ; " the
terribly melted-down Aborigines " ; " mus-
tered up " ; and at p. 250 : "The seclusion
towards the North due to the deserts must
have lasted until seamen, better than
Africans now are, from elsewhere, struck the
coasts of Africa," and, a few lines below, " a
wide belt of retrogression." Then the
Quechuas of Peru are confused with the
Quiches of Guatamala (164); "Prince of
Wied" is, we suppose "short for" Prince
Max von Neuwied (14) ; east for tvest{\0 and
260) and ivest for east (240). Schweinfurt's
Monhuttu everywhere appears instead of the
proper form, Mangbattu, as established by
Jxuiker ; the meaning of Damara is said to
be "obscure" (463), although fuUy ex-
plained in accessible books (Stanford's
Africa, ii., p. 176) ; and we are elsewhere
informed that " Amakosa — also written
Amaxosa — seems to mean ' The People of
Kosa ' (Kosa being a chief). This naming
of a tribe after its chief, a feature of the
patriarchal system, recurs among most
Negro tribes" (446). But the patriarchal
system is not prevalent among most Negro
tribes, being confined to a few groups,
prominent among which are the Zulu-
Xosas hero in question. Ama-Xosa (the
only proper spelling) does really mean " The
People of Xosa," who, howeverj was not

merely "a chief," but the eponymous hero
and founder of the nation, who is tradition-
ally said to have flourished in the sixteenth
century, and from whom all the present
chiefs of the Galekas, Gaikas, and other
Xosa groups trace their descent.

Like the first, this volume is profusely
illustrated, and many of the portraits, being
reproductions of good photographs, are of
considerable scientific value.

SOUTH AFEICA.

Impressions of South Africa. By Prof.
Bryce. (Macmillan & Co.)

In the latter part of 1895 Prof. Bryce
travelled across South Africa from Cape
Town to Fort Salisbury, in Mashonaland,
passing through Bechuanaland and Matabili-
land. From Fort Salisbury he returned
through Manicaland and the Portuguese
Territories to Beira, on the Indian Ocean,
sailed thence to Delagoa Bay and Durban,
traversed Natal, and visited the Transvaal,
the Orange Free State, Basutoland, and the
eastern province of Cape Colony. It is a
tolerably extensive journey, even in these
days of globe-trotting, and the densest of
mankind could not fail, if he undertook it,
to gather some information which would
interest and entertain. When this vast ex-
panse of territory, containing so many con-
flicting races, such incomparable variety of
natural objects, and presenting such in-
numerable problems to the statesman, the
naturalist, and the ethnologist, is brought
under the eye of a man of Mr. Bryce's grasp
of mind, the reader is entitled to expect
something more than an ordinary book of
travel.

He will not be disappointed. Mr.
Bryce's admirable book is as far removed
from the publications of the ordinary
globe-trotter as Treasure Island from a
penny dreadful. It is scarcely too much to
say that what Mr. Bryce has already done
is here surpassed. To any student of South
African affairs this book must of necessity
be as indispensable for many years to
come, as The Holy Roman Empire and
The American Commonwealth already are to
anyone who would understand the rise of
European nationalities and the political
system of the United States.

The work before us is arranged under the
three main headings of Nature, History,
and a Narrative of the Author's Journey.
The physical features of South Africa are
fairly well known by this time, but Mr.
Bryce is certainly successful in presenting a
general sketch of the country which is
far more informing than any collection of
isolated photographs can possibly be. With
him we deplore the rapid destruction of the
large wild animals which is going on, and
most heartily endorse his plea that the
various governments should combine to
prevent their total disappearance. If the
present rate of slaughter is persisted
in, the African elephant will have ceased
to exist within another half-century, and
a similar fate awaits the rhinoceros.
Nevertheless, we cannot help seeing that

there is another side to the picture, and one
which appeals very nearly indeed to the
inhabitants. It is distressingly unromantic
to hear that the establishment of street
lamps has made the lion as rare in Bulawayo
as in Fulham ; but the fact is not without
its advantages to foot passengers. We are
even prepared to pardon a total absence
of enthusiasm for the preservation of the
rare white rhinoceros on the part of that
Dutch governor who, while traversing the
streets of Cape Town, was butted out of his
comfortable coach by one of these engaging
creatures.

The human problem is, however, after
all, much the most interesting which South
Africa presents, and with this Mr. Bryce
deals at length. Of the three native races,
the Bushmen, the Hottentots, and the great
nationality which we, following the Arabs,
call " Kafir," but which proudly calls itself
" Abantu " — the People — the last alone is
now of real importance. Out of it three
men have arisen from whom it is difiicult
to withhold the epithet of "Great." The
Zulu Tshaka was in his way as great a
warrior as Napoleon. He devised a miUtary
system so admirably adapted to the capacities
of his people that no other natives could face
his impis, and so perfect that its defeat taxed
all the resources of European skill. Tshal^
had probably never heard of the Pomans,
but his introduction of the short, broad-
bladed, stabbing spear in place of the lance
shows a thorough appreciation of one of
their greatest secrets of success. Moshesh,
the Basuto, who successfully defied Boers
and natives alike from his fastness of Thaba
Bosiyo, and governed the nation he created
in a manner which compelled the respect
even of his enemies, was no ordinary man.
Khama, the Bechuana, now rules a great
territory with a tact, prudence, and tenacity
of purpose which would do credit to any
European statesman. WeU. may Mr. Bryce
say that "three such men . . . are suffi-
cient to show the capacity of the race for
occasionally reaching a standard which
white men must respect." And this race
shows no tendency to die out. On the
contrary, it is more prolific than its white
conquerors, and therein lies one of the most
difficult problems of the future.

"The native — that is to say, the native o£
the Kafir race — not merely holds his groimd
but increases far more rapidly than he did
before Europeans came, because the Europeans
have checked inter-tribal wars and the slaughter
of the tribesmen by the chiefs and their wizards
and also because the Europeans have opened uj
new kinds of employment."

In fact, the problem before the white
inhabitants of South Africa is very much
the same as that which is beginning to
assume such a serious aspect in the Southern
States of America.

" Two races, far removed from one another
in civilisation and mental condition, dwell side
by side. Neither race is likely to extrude or
absorb the other. What then will be their
relations, and how will the difRciiltios be met to
which their juxtaposition must g^vc rise 'i "

Upon the whole Mr. Bryce is hopeful. Some
sort of lingua franca will, he thinks, spring
up : heathenism will disappear — it is, by the>

THE ACADEMY.

[Jait. 15, 1898

way, curious to note that the existing Kafir
religion does not appear to include any idea
of the Supreme Being — and the natives will
become Christians, at least in name ; but
there will be no intermarriage between the
white and black races. If only the native
can be levelled up by education, and the
European induced to treat him more like a
man and less like an animal, it is possible to
look forward to a day when the two races
will be able to work harmoniously together
in a partnership in which the white man wiU
be the head and the black man the hands.

It is not the least of Mr. Bryee's many
claims to the confidence of the reader that,
in dealing with the Native Question, he never
allows himself to become a partisan or to
cater for cheap philanthropy. To him the
invading European is neither angel nor
demon, but a very human person indeed,
acting as might reasonably be expected in
the circumstances. On the other hand, he
does not pretend that the native altogether
likes the change which has driven him to
work for his living and for the enrich-
ment of his conqueror. We confess that,
in considering this part of the subject, we
draw much comfort from the pictures which
Mr. Bryce repeatedly draws of the miserable
state of the native under his own rulers.
A Zulu king was, indeed, compelled to
admit the right of his people to the soil just
as a Saxon ruler was, but to their lives they,
apparently, had no title at all, and every
man dwelt in the Valley of the Shadow of
Death. Lo Bengula was probably rather
above than below the ethical standard of
the average African chief, but the follow-
ing passage does not inspire one with much
regret that he no longer reigns at Bulawayo :

" Only one old tree marks the spot where the
long used to sit administering justice to his
subjects. A large part of this justice con-
sisted in decreeing death among his indiinas or
prominent men who had excited his suspicions,
or whose cattle he desired to appropriate.
Sometimes he had them denounced — ' smelt
out' they called it — by the witch-doctors as
guilty of practising magic against him. Some-
times he disposed with a pretext, and sent a
messenger to the hut of the doomed man to
tell him the Hng wanted him. The victim,
often ignorant of his fate, walked in front,
while the executioner, following close behind,
•_«uddenly dealt him with the hnohkerry, or
heavy-ended stick, one tremendous blow, which
crushed his skuU and left him dead upon the
groimd. Women, on the other hand, were
strangled."

The rule of the Chartered Company may
be hard, and diamond-mining at Kimberley
is not, perhaps, very agreeable to an ex-
Zulu warrior, but they are, at least, better
than the hideous possibilities involved in
being a subject of Lo Bengula or Mosilikatze.
It is a grim commentary on the happiness
of savage life that the very name of the
Matabili capital means "The Place of
Slaughter." If the Bantu race has not
much for which to be grateful to Mr.
Rhodes, it at least owes him some thanks
for deliverance from the terrors of the king,
and the nameless horrors of the witch-
doctor.

Far below the Native Question in point of
ultimate importance, but still in itself of
considerable moment, come the relations of

the British and the Dutch. And here,
again, we have nothing but praise for the
manner in which Mr. Bryce has discharged
his task. It is not the pen of the Liberal
politician, but of the philosophical student
of men which writes :

" The Boers .... fancied themselves entitled
to add some measure of contempt to the dislike
they already cherished to the English, and they
have ever since shown themselves unpleasant
neighbours. The English in South Africa, on
their part, have continued to resent the con-
cession of independence to the Transvaal, and
especially the method in which it was con-
ceded."

Not even in dealing with the American
Colonies has the British Government made
such astounding mistakes as in South
Africa. From the appointment of Sir
Theophilus Shepstone, whose swart com-
plexion made the Boers think that
he had some tinge of the hated Kafir
blood, to Majuba and Krugersdorp, the
errors have been enough to wreck an empire.
To these Mr. Bryce is studiously gentie —
more gentle, we suspect, than he would
have been if he were not so anxious to avoid
the suspicion of mingling politics with
history. Upon one point he attempts no
sort of concealment. Sooner or later, and
sooner rather than later, the English-
speaking population of the Transvaal will
become politically as well as economically
supreme. He rightly refuses to commit
himself to any statement as to whether this
change will come peaceably or not, but that
it will come somehow he has no hesitation
in saying is inevitable.

We wish that space would permit us to
follow him through the many fascinating
sidepaths into which when dealing with
this and other South African subjects he
frequently diverges. The thorny question
of the suzerainty and the true construction
of the Convention of London ; the light
which the native custom of taking tokens as
pledges of a promise throws upon primitive
law ; the plagues — which he describes as
consisting of white ants, locusts, horse-
sickness, fever, and speculators in mining
shares ; the strange pits of Inyanga, upon
the purpose of which we would with great
deference suggest that possibly Canon Atkin-
son's investigation of the " British Village "
at Danby might give some hint — any
one of these contains the material for a long
article in itself. We venture only, however,
to conclude this necessarily abbreviated
review of a really powerful book with one
more quotation, partly because it is couched
in noble words, but more because of the
grasp and foresight which it displays :

" While Britain continues to be a great naval
power the maintenance of her connexion with
South Africa will ensure the external peace of
that country, which, fortunately for herself,
lies far away in the Southern Seas, with no land
frontiers which she is called on to defend. She
may not grow to be herself as populous and as
powerful a state as will be the Canadian or
the Australian confederations of the future, for
her climatic conditions do not promise so large
an increase of the white race ; but her people
may, if she can deal wisely with the problems
which the existence of her coloured population
raises, become a happy and prosperous nation.
They are exempt from some of the dangers

which thi-eaten the industrial communities of
Europe and North America. The land they
dwell in is favoured by Nature, and inspires a
deep love in its children. The stock they
spring from is strong and sound ; and they
have carried with them to their new home the
best traditions of Teutonic freedom and self-
government."

CRITICISM FROM A DISTANCE.

Literary Statesmen and Others : Essays on
Men Seen from a Distance. By Norman
Hapgood. (Chicago and New York :
Herbert S. Stone & Co.)

Mr. Norman Hapgood is a young
American critic, already known in
country by some contributions to
Contemporary Review, equally remarkabli
for independence of thought and epigram-
matic brilliancy of expression. These are
reprinted in the present volume, together
with various other papers, all marked by
the same high standard of literary excel-
lence. Mr. Hapgood has carefully trained
himself for the work of appreciation ; and
his remarks on American criticism may,
perhaps, be read as partly introspective.
For instance, when he points to the special
study of French literature as characteristic
of contemporary American and English
critics, enumerating various advantages
derived therefrom, we can easily believe
that such training was an important element
in the process by which his own mind
was formed. " Sentimental rhetoric and
heavy truism," he observes, " are killed
by it." On the positive side it gives
"lucidity and prudence " ; while as a draw-
back it "instigates the attempt to assimilate
qualities which seldom enter organically
into superior English style, such as the
studied emphasis of the epithet and the
manner of intellectual sprightliness " (p. 1 66) .
The constraint and clumsiness of this last
phrase indicate another danger against which
the author and his school would do well to
stand more on their guard, and which a niore
assiduous study of French models might
help them to correct. Mr. Hapgood has at
any rate an appreciation of style as such, of
literary technique, which is rare enough in
England, while, to judge by what he tells
us, it is actively discouraged in America.
In letters, as in politics, the democratic
spirit resents an assumption of superiority.
" Expert handling of what we all feel capa-
ble of handling bores us, and even insults
us" (p. 136). One can imagine the American
Philistine finding himself, if not exactly
bored or insulted, at least painfully bewild-
ered by the three papers on literary states-
men that give a title to this collection. Even
a French reader of more than average culti-
vation might feel disappointed at hearing so
much more about the manner than about
the matter of Lord Rosebery, Mr. John
Morley, and Mr. Arthur Balfour. Let us
at once add that this exceptionally trained
American critic, although an expert in style,
is really most interested in the psychology
of his subjects, and that he values the
most serious literary qualities as an index
of qualities which are more than merely

Jan. 15, 1898.

THE ACADEMY.

literary ; while conversely he finds in the
absence of such qualities a key to the
limitations of purely literary excellence.
Thus, according to him, what Lord Eose-
bery lacks is

" as necessary to a philosopher or a poet as it
is to a man of action. . . . There is a want of
unity, of strong single feeling, of purpose.
There is honesty, frankness, generosity ; there
are convictions ; but there is no single unifying
conviction or conception, no faith or passion or
need of accompUshment. So it is that the
more serious the subject, the farther removed
from the spectacular intellectual world, the
nesvrer to a reality demanding action, the less
adequate is Lord Eosebery in speaking or
writing " (pp. 88-9).

"Whether strictly applicable to the late
Prime Minister or not, his critic has here
got hold of a most valuable and far-reach-
ing principle.

In the opinion of our observer from a
distance, Mr. Arthur Balfour is, on the
whole, a failure in literature and philosophy ;
but besides intellectual power he has sin-
cerity and sympathy ; he has succeeded
in practical life by a thorough scepticism
combined with thorough earnestness (p. 64).
Is not this working what Mill called the
inverse deductive method a little hard?
One cannot help suspecting that had " the
picturesque young leader " failed, or, what
is unhappily stiU on the cards, should he fail
after all, Mr. Hapgood would be equally
ready with a psychological explanation
after the fact. Mr. Hapgood is very severe
on Mr. Balfour's style, finding it even un-
grammatical. No examples are given ; and
it is a little odd that the same censor
should apply such epithets as "faultless"
and " impeccable " to Lord Eosebery's
prose, which certainly has not the elemen-
tary merit of perfect syntax.

the paper on Mr. John Morley is a
-necimon of what our critic can do — and he
.11 do a good deal — in the way of detrac-
..on. He has pointed out many blots in the
pages of a perhaps overpraised writer ; but
the total impression left is one of unjustifi-
able violence. For apart from the high
intellectual and moral qualities which re-
I ceive a rather grudging recognition, Mr.
Morley has literary merits not less deserving
of praise than Lord Eosebery's, above all
the power to coin such barbed phrases as
■sombre acquiescence," "shrill levity,"
" end it or mend it," and of these no
account has been taken. "We note, also, in
the analysis of Mr. Morley's intellectual
uliaracter a complete lack of the historical
method, without which it can never be
understood, to such an extent have the
studies and opinions of this literary states-
man been determined by the lead of ante-
j cedent thinkers, more especially Comte,
I MiU, and Buckle.

Like other young critics, Mr. Hapgood

•aids it easier or more exciting to blame

than to praise. But the "prudence" as

,\vell as the "respect for expert opinion"

[supposed to be acquired by the study of

French models might have suggested that

^tondhal was not a safe object for kittenish

ittacks. That great master, we are told,

■ is little read in France, and scarcely at all

elsewhere." "The solution of his doubt

whether he would not by 1930 have sunk
again into oblivion seems now at least as
likely as it was then [in 1830] to be an
affirmative" (pp. 69, 70)— a sentence the
extreme clumsiness of which offers one more
proof of the ill-luck that attends mere
talent when it falls foul of immortal genius.
He who, apart from all psychology, apart
from all intellectual interests, has experi-
enced in himself as a simple reader seeking
only for amusement the overwhelming and
inexhaustible charm of Le Rouge et le JSfoir,
will not let his enjoyment be disturbed by
the disclosure of any foibles in the life
of its creator; he who has failed to
experience that delight may seek elsewhere
for sesthetic objects better suited to his
somewhat limited sensibility; but let him
not dream that he can analyse away the
ultimate facts of taste. Mr. Hapgood
himself, after quoting some unfavourable
judgments passed by his countryman, Mr.
Kenyon Cox, on the "Assumption" and the
" Presentation," dryly observes : " That may
be true, but it may well be said that Titian
is not adequately accounted for " (pp. 106-7).
Nor has he himself adequately accounted for
Stendhal.

In Mr. Henry James, on the other hand,
he has a subject exactly commensurate with
his means — a phrase that must not be taken
as intended to emphasise the limitations
either of the novelist or of his critic. Both
have the delicacy of touch, the subtlety of
discrimination, the finely modulated expres-
sion which we have learned to regard as
characteristic of the American intellect in its
present phase of elaboration. Every reader
of Mr. Henry James will recognise "the
unusual shadings given to words, the compli-
cated and facile syntax, the broken sentences
in dialogue that suggest a shrug ... the
irrelevant parentheses, the completions that
are so close to repetitions" ; as weU as
" the habit of pricking a thought here with
delicacy, then there, so near that sometimes
here and there seem like one point" (p. 193),
although few, or none, could have conveyed
their impressions with equal felicity. But
not every reader will have felt for himself
before it was pointed out the false note
struck when, in " The Tragic Muse," Julia
takes Dick's head in her hands and kisses
it. StiU less could he picturesquely formu-
late his discomfort by observing that "the
airy world so parallel to the real world, so
representative of it, is shattered when such
material is forced into it" (p. 202).

Such quotations might be multiplied ad
libitum. But enough has been said to show
that in Mr. Hapgood we have a critic who
may be wilful, but who is never weak.

BRIEFER MENTION.

Geological PanLicATioxs. (Government
Office, Washington.) We have received five
huge volumes, from the United States Govern-
ment Printing Office at Washington, dealing
with the geology of the States. Two of the
volumes are devoted to the Seventeenth
Annual Eeport of the United States Ge-
oloo'ical Society to the Secretary of the In-
terior, 1895-96. The other four belong to a
series' of important "Monographs" which
is in course of being presented by the same
society.

A Mediaval Garland. By Mme. James
Darmestoter. Translated by May Tom-
linson. (Lawrence & Bullen.)

THIS is a dainty collection of old-world
stories, gathered with Mme. Darme-
steter's unerring art from that " garden of
romance," the Middle Ages. Some of them
are touched with jewelled colour, like minia -
tures on the borders of a book of hours ;
others, and these the majority, have the
delicately faded hues of once bnlliant gar-
ments. If one may vary the metaphor,
they are plaintive melodies, recording the
quaint thin tones of an old spinet; and
this dreamy aloofness of manner suits well
their themes of joyous knights, fair ladies,
and massive stone castles, long since crumbled
into dust.

"Flowers found between the leaves of
old books," Mme. Darmesteter calls them.
Placed there, rather than found there, one
thinks, for Mme. Darmesteter has let her
imagination play at will' around her trou-
vailles, and the pages of monkish chroniclers
of France or Italy blossom into fresh life at
her bidding. Of her dozen tales, liking
them all, we like best "Philip the Cat," with
its memories of Joan of Arc, "The Countess
of Dammartin," and " The Wife of Ludovic
the Moor." This last is really a gem.
Ludovic is Duke Ludovic of Milan, and his
wife the Duchess Beatrice, she who had her
husband's nephew assassinated for his
popularity, and invoked the invasion of
Italy by the French. The narrator had
imagined her " some young and lovely Lady
Macbeth of Lombardy," or "the exquisite
and sinister type of Luini's daughter of
Herodias." Then she visited the tomb of
the Duchess in the Certosa of Pavia.

" She is a delicious child, who, even in sleep,
is full of checked vivacity. Her long hair
falls in disordered curls, spread over the pillow
and on her lovely shoulders, and tiny Utile
crisp curls hide her round, infantine forehead.
She has an admirable expression of candour—
the candour of a child. She is graceful, with
that irresistible grace which defies laws. Her
eyebrows are scarcely marked, but her closed
eyeUds, curved Uke the petals of a thick white
flower, are richly fringed. She has the small
nose of a child, and this gives her a pathetic
naivete. Her cheeks, also, are rounder than
those of a grown-up woman. The H9rodi*^'
daughter of Luiui would find them enturely
wanting in distinction ; I find them charming.
. . . But the face is nothing. It is the
attitude. It is that childish figiure, so small
and so full of life, so soft, so deUcately supple
and rounded beneath the sumptuous court-gown
of silk and embroidery, with its long traon
artisticaUy arranged not to hide or impede the
feet— those little feet which only ceased dancing
four hours before death, and seem still so ready
for the awakening."

Miss May Tomlinson has performed the
translator's task admirably, catching the
exact fragrance of the original, its rich sub-
dued beauty and the sentiment of "old,
unhappy far-ofi things " that clings around
it. Eeading, you hardly recognise that it is
a translation you read. And this is the
highest praise.

THE 1ACADEMY.

[Jajt. 15, 1898.

Etching, Engraving, and the Other Methods of
Printing Pictures. By Hans W. Singer
and William Strang. (Kegan Paul
&Co.)

This treatise is addressed less to artists,
producers of fine prints, than to collectors
of these, who are often sorely puzzled to
distinguish between an etching and an
engraving, and are occasionally even at the
mercy of a debased photographic rejiro-
duction. Many such difficidties should
vanish after a perusal of Messrs. Singer and
Strang's luminous treatment of the subject.
They divide it into the three heads of relief,
intaglio, and plane prints, and imder each
they give a clear and business-like account
of the various processes employed and of
the characteristic effects which can be ob-
tained. They have abundant resources alike
of book-learning and of practical experience,
and are not without a considerable gift of
lucid and intelligible exposition. Mr. Strang
is himself, of course, one of the most dis-
tinguished of our younger etchers, of the
school of Prof. Legros, and he enriches
the volume with a dozen experiments of his
own in the principal methods described.
These are particularly interesting, as show-
ing the way in which a marked artistic
individuality adapts itself to varying
conditions ; and several of them, notably
the example of etching proper, are
intrinsically beautifid plates. In a chapter
on the appreciation and enjoyment of
prints, the authors allow themselves a
digression upon the vexed topic of aesthetic
theory. Eejecting the formulse alike of
idealism and realism, of decoration and of
physico-psychology, they broach an hypo-
thesis that art is essentially " the manifesta-
tion of human will exercised over nature at
large" :

" When a picture presents us some features
of nature, clearly recognisable as buch, but
upon which some one hiuuan intellect has
impressed its stamp, then it is a work of art,
and I belies e that the simultaneous intertwined
presentation of the two great factors of the
world — mind and matter — is what creates in us
the distinctive art enjoyment."

This doctrine has at least the advantage
over many of its rivals, that it is a catholic
one, and the essay in which it is elaborated
is remarkably stimulating and suggestive
The concluding chapters of the book give
a contemptuous attention to the various
mechanical processes by which the methods
of true engraving are respectively mimicked.
These are accurately described and tm-
hesitatingly condemned :

"Anybody who claims that a photograph
or a photograviue gives him any artistic
pleasure is his own dupe. It may help to
recall the pleasure that he experienced once
upon a time in face of the original painting,
and thus cause him to rehearse it mentally, but
ihat is all."

Surely this is too sweeping. A photo-
graph loses much, yet it continues to
afford an artistic pleasure, quite apart from
association or merely literary interest. But
with the general tendency of the authors'
polemic against the devastation of black
and white art by photography we need

Strong Men and True. By Morley Eoberts.
(Downey & Co.)

SuEELY a somewhat misleading title for
Mr. Morley Eoberts's vi\'id studies of the
manners and customs of colonial man.
"Strong" they are, these drovers and
miners, but "true" only in a sense which
perhaps Polonius might have understood,
but which is certainly compatible with a
very alert vigUance for any opportunity to
" do " their neighbours. Mr. Eoberts's
background is generally some American
mining-camj) or bit of Australian bush,
and against this the " strong " man is
sketched with rough fidelity in a few
bold strokes. Among the rest the Arrow-
maker pleases us the most, because he was
wholly uncivilised, and not partly civilised
or " decivilised." He was a noted artist in
warlike implements, but found his handi-
work one day distanced by a rival manipu-
lator of the flint; determined to learn the
secret of the superior workmanship, he crept
to the hostile camp and waited.

" On the third day of his long waiting he
saw a tall young Ast come ambling towards
the little flinty hiU, and The Dog's heart beat
fiercely as the slaver gathered on his thin lips.
' Was this the arrow-maker ? It could not be
so young a man,' he thought. But in a little
while his little eyes glittered and his corded
muscles ridged themselves heavily, for this Ast
was chipping flint on the hillock, working
dexterously. The Dog watched and learnt
something.

As he stayed and waited, he doubted whether
he should slay this Ast with his own arrow or
not. At last he plucked out the sharpest and
smoothest of the three, and in a moment it
was buried in the Ast's heart.

# # * *

' It was good enough,' said The Dog."

Mr. Morley Eoberts is evidently familiar
with his characters and their surroundings,
and his command of their habitual modes
of expression is masterly. They do not
speak European English when slang is
available, and the literary as well as the
ethical code of the drinking saloon prevails.

A Benedictine Martyr in England. By Dom
Bede Camm, O.S.B. (Bliss, Sands & Co.)

John Eobeets is looked upon with reverence
by the Benedictines as the first of their
order who, after the suppression of the
monasteries, " attacked the gate of heU,
and provoked the prince of darkness in his
usurped kingdom " — that is to say, in less
flowery language, preached Catholicism in
Protestant England. Of Welsh descent
and Oxford training, he was converted
when on a visit to Paris, and devoted his
life to the propagation of his faith in his
own country. After spending some years
in preparation for his task at VaUadolid
and ComposteUa, he began a series of
missionary visits to England in 1603. These
were brief, because he was time after time
taken and banished from the country. At
last the patience of the Government was
exhausted. Father Eoberts was arrested
in the very act of saying mass. He

. ^ ^ ^ , refused to take the Oath of Allegiance, and

harlly say we heartily agree. A careful suffered death under the law of treason,
bibliography completes the book. > Dom Camm has taken infinite pains to

disinter the minutest details of his hero's
biography. His book should be of service
to scholars, alike for its learning and for its-
clear expression of the Catholic view with
regard to the Jacobean executions. Dom
Camm does not fear polemic ; he courts it
by his display of aU the somewhat ridiculous
zeal of the convert. For poor Archbishop
Abbot he has a particular distaste, painting
him as a "sour fanatic" inspired by "fana-
tical fury" and a "bloodthirsty hatred"
to Catholics. The following passages giv&
evidence of a very extraordinary condition
of intellect. It would seem that Dom
Eoberts and other Catholics executed imder
Elizabeth and James have become thft
objects of an unofficial cultus, and that
Pope Leo XIII. was moved to take the
first steps towards their formal beatification r

" More than ten years have elapsed since
then, but no one who knows anything of the
mature and dehberate care by which the Holy
See, in its wisdom, conducts such examinations
will wonder that the cause of our martyrs ha»
not meanwhile made many steps further towards,
the longed-for goal."

This does not seem to be meant for irony ;
and Dom Camm adds :

" Meanwhile, we should add that those who-
privately invoke the martyrs to obtain any
great grace or miracle should not turn to one
or another of that glorious band, but should
invoke them all; so that, if the miracle be
granted, it may serve for the cause of the
beatification of all. For, in such cases as this,
it is impossible to prove miracles for each
member of so great a band of martyrs."

But, let alone the ethics of this proceeding,

does Dom Camm really suppose that the

Pope will be imable to determine which of

! the candidates it was that actually answered

to this general invocation ?

" Hajtobook to Christian and Ecclesias-
tical EosiE."— Part n. : The Liturgy in
Rome. By H. M. and M. A. E. T.
(A. & C. Black.)

This should be a most valuable book to
tourists abroad, who generally flock to
ecclesiastical functions, especially at Eome
and in Holy Week, with the very vaguest
idea as to what precisely it is that they are
seeing. The author prints the Ordinary and
Canon of the Mass, with notes and an
English translation, and adds chapters on the

nature of the liturgical vestments and orna-
ments, the chief services and ceremonies,
the festivals, and in especial the Good
Friday and Easter functions. Appendices
contain the Eoman Calendar and a biblio-
graphy. The information given is weU.
aiTanged and clearly put, and good use
has been made of various trustworthy
authorities, such as the Abbe Duchesne's-
Origines du Culte Chretien. Some of the
historical statements, however, are open to
criticism. Thus the account of tropes does
not seem to owe much to Gautier's masterly
researches into the subject. To say that the
Easter sejiidchre may have had its origin m
one of the "Miracle Plays" is a curious
inversion of the true order of things, and
the "pascal," so common in English church
accounts and inventories, is surely not ' an
elaborate detached stone sepulchre," but a
candlestick for the cereus, or Paschal candle.

SPECIAL EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT

THE ACADEMY.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 15, 1898.

MESSRS. METHUEN'S NEW BOOKS.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE.

Adventure in the Far Bast. The Crisis in China. Second Edition in the Press.

FROM TONKIN TO INDIA.

By PRtNCE HENRI OP ORLEANS. Translated by HAMLEY BENT. M.A. With
over lOt.) Illustrations and a Map. Crown 4to, gilt top, 258. The crisis in China lends
importance to the travels of Prince Henri in 1895 from China to the valley of the
Bramaputra, which covered a distance of 2,100 miles, of which 1,600 was through
absolutely unexplored country. No fewer than seventeen ranges of moimtains were
crossed at altitudes of from 11,000 to 13.000 feet. The journey was made memorable by
the discovery of the sources of the Irrawaddy. To the physical difficulties of the
journey were added dangers from the attacks of savage tribes. The book deals with
many of the political problems of the East, and it will be found a most important
contribution to the literature of adventure and discovery,
"A welcome contribution to our knowledge. The narrative is full and interestiog, and the appendices
gire the work a suhetantial value.— 7*/^ Timet.

The story is instruotiTe and fascinating, and will certainly make one of the books of 1898. Tlie book
attracts by its delightful print and fine illustrations. A nearly model book of travel."— Pnii Afall Gazette.
I " China is the country of the hour. All eyes ar.' turned towards her, and Messrs- Methuea have oppoi*
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THE NIGER SOURCES. By Colonel J. Trotter, R.A. With a

Map and Ulustrfttions. Crown 8vo, 5s. A book which at the present time should be
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ADVENTURE and EXPLORATION in AFRICA. By Major

A. ST. H. GIBBONS, F.R.G.S. With 8 Full-Page Illustrations by C. Whymper, 25
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Customs, Characteristics, and History. IJan. 20.

THREE YEARS in SAVAGE AFRICA. By Lionel Decle. With

an Introdaction by H. M. STANLEY, II.P. With 100 Illustrations and 6 Maps. Demy
8vo, 31s. Few Europeans have had the same opportunity of studying the barbarous
parts of Africa as Mr. Decle. Starting from the Cape, he visited in succession
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on the Zambesi, Xyasaland, Ujiji, the headquarters of the Arabs, German East Africa,
Uganda (where he saw fighting in company with the late Major " Roddy" Owen), and
British East Africa. In his book he relates his experiences, his minute obser\-ations of
native habits and customs, and his views as to the work done in Africa by the various
European Governments whose operations he was able to study. The whole journey
extended over 7,000 miles, and occupied exactly three years. [Feb. 6,

HISTORY AND BIOQRAPHY.

RELIGION and CONSCIENCE in ANCIENT EGYPT. By W. M.

FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L.,L1,.D. Fully lUustrated. Crown 8vo, 2b. 8d. [Jan. 20.

A HISTORY of the GREAT NORTHERN RAILWAY, 1845-9S.

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ANARCHISM. By E. V. Kenker. Demy 870, 7s. 6d. [Feb. 1.

THOMAS CRANMER. By A. J. Mason, D.D., Canon of Canterbury.

With Portrait. Crown 8vo, 33. Od. Leaders of Religion, [Feb. 1.

THE LIFE of ERNEST RENAN. By Madame Darmesteter.

With Portrait. Second Edition in the Press. Crown 8vo, 68.

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THEOLOGY.

TBE CHTJBCHMAN'S LIBHART. Edited by J. H. Burn, B.D.

A series of books hy competent scholars on Church History, Institutions, and Doctrine,
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THE BEGINNINGS of ENGLISH CHRISTIANITY. By W. E.

, COLLINS, M.A. , Professor of Ecclesiastical History at King's College, London. With
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SOME NEW TESTAMENT PROBLEMS. By Arthur Wright,

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I MESSRS. MSTHUEN have arranged to publish mider the above title a number of the
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Mr. Laurence Housman has designed a Title-page and a Cover Design, Pott Svo, 23.
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I with an Introduction and Notes, by C. BIGG, D.D., late Student of Christ Church.

ITHE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By John Keble. With Introduction

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^ BOOK of DEVOTIONS. Edited by J. W. Stanbridge, M.A.,

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Author of " Hurrish," " Maelcho," &c. Crown Svo, 68. [Jon. 20.

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THE STORY of the PERSIAN WARS as TOLD by HERODOTUS. In English. Selected.

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A DetaiUd List of Jfr. MURRAY'S SCHOOL PUBLICATIONS will he sent on application.

JOHN MURRAY, Albemarle Street.

Jan. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

i ^trurati0nal Su^pltmcnt.

i SATURDAY: JANUARY 16, \^^8.

SCHOOL BOOKS IN THE
SCHOOL.

INTEEVIEW WITH THE HEAD
MASTER OF HAEEOW.

WHEN (writes a representative of the
AcujEire) I was asked to obtain
the views of a head master upon current
educational literature I applied to Dr.
J. E. C. "Welldon, the Head Master of
Harrow School. Dr. Welldon kindly
offered to submit to some questioning
on the large and important subject of
school books. It was not on the classic
height of Harrow, and in the venerable
school buildings, that I found the head
master to whose care six hundred boys are
committed. Instead, I journeyed to the quaint
little town of Southwold, on the Suffolk
coast. There I received a welcome from
Dr. WeUdon that made my task easy from
the moment of my arrival. Dr. WeUdon gave
me carte blanche to ask him questions. Facing
me, the waves, brown and fretful, moaned
on the pebbles only fifty yards off ; and
while I framed a question, or listened to
Dr. Welldon's animated replies, the horizon
woidd be broken by a passing ketch under
half-sail, or the vague and distant form of a
coasting steamer. I ought, perhaps, to
explain that I do not profess to reproduce
Dr. Welldon's precise words throughout
this article. I reproduce his sentiments
exactly, and his words as nearly exactly as
possible.

' " What shaU I teU you first ? " said Dr.
'WeUdon.

"WiU you give me," I repUed, "some
'idea of the manner in which school books
: find their way from the London publishers
to the bo3-s' desks at Harrow."

" Certainly. You will understand that
jnew school books are sent to me in great
(numbers. I am assisted, therefore, by a
I Book Committee, consisting of a few of the
Harrow mastei-s, who carefuUy examine the
I books and report upon them to me — or
i rather to the regularly-held masters' meet-
, ings over which I preside."
! " I imderstand. Then you closely foUow
I in this way the developments of educational
publishing? "

" Yes. It is our endeavour to learn what
improvements are introduced, and to discover
the best book on any given subject."
I " Do you believe in making frequent
changes in school books ? "

"Provided such changes are fuUy justified
■by an examination of the merits of new
; books — I do. Of course, change for change's
I sake is a mistake. But I am of opinion
that fickleness in tlie choice of school books
' is not a common fault with schoolmasters.
The tendency is the other way. I should
I rather complain that schoolmasters have a
tendency to go on using books with which
they are familiar after better ones have

become available. It is a very natural ten-
dency, but it can be indulged too far."

" And, as a matter of fact, do you at
Harrow make frequent changes of old
school books for new ? "

'' Oh, yes. There are books, of course,
which remain in use for very long periods.
The Latin PubUc Schools Primer, for in-
stance, which was compiled by Dr.
Kennedy at the request of the head masters
of English public schools, was in use for
a great many years. It has been revised,
but never superseded. There was a kind of
agreement, expUcit at first, but now I think
only tacit, that this book should remain in
use, thus preserving uniformity in the teach-
ing of Latin in the schools. Other grammars
and, of course, lexicons, &c., are given long
leases. But setting aside these, we have
no sujierstitions or prejudices. Our aim is
to secure the best book of its kind."

" Do you, as one means of obtaining the
best book, have primers speciaUy compiled
for use at Harrow ? "

" No ! " said Dr. WeUdon, with emphasis.
" I have never been able to see advantage
in that system."

" You prefer to come into the open
market, and look round, and select the book
that is nearest to your ideal ? "

"I do. It is best that books should
stand upon their own merits. The book
which survives in the keenest competition
is generaUy the best book."

" But now. Dr. WeUdon, may I put
another aspect of the enormous production
of new school books before you ? You wiU
admit, I think, that it is enormous — not to
say bewildering ? "

Dr. WeUdon smiled his complete assent.

"Would you say that the actual progress
made toward the production of the ideal set
of school books for a Harrow or any other
schoolboy is at aU to be gauged by this
extraordinary activity in multiplying primers
and re- editing classics term after term, and
year after year? "

" Oh, dear, no. The progress is very
small. More than half the new school books
are probably produced for the benefit of the
authors or editors, not of the boys."

" I should not have dared to suggest that
to you, but I have always imagined so."

" It is not difficult for a scholar to f)roduce
an edition of a classical author. Schools
are many ; school books seU readUj- ; and if
such an edition makes its way even into a
limited number of schools, it soon brings a
fair remuneration both to editor and to
publisher. It does not foUow that the
edition is in any marked degree superior to
others which preceded it or which will f oUow
it. In fact, scholastic education would suffer
no loss if the editing of classical books were
now suspended for twenty years."

" You mean that textual criticism and
commentary — so far as they can be useful
in classical school books — have now reached
their limits?"

' ' Yes, I mean that. As regards texts there
is not likely to be any progress worth con-
sidering. Of course, commentary has greatlj-
widened its scope since the days of the
' pure Fcholars ' ; geographical and archro-
ological contributions to the elucidation of
classical authors have poured in. But I

think that we have got a surfeit of com-
mentary ; in short, boys have now got aU
they want, and perhaps more than is good
for them. I mean the new school books
give too much help. They do not leave
enough for the boys' own research. The
modern boy hardly knows what difficulty
is — what with elaborate notes, vocabularies,
and tran.slations of difficult phrases. The
system of making things easy is being
pushed to the extreme. The compilers of
school books are forgetting that knowledge
is best retained when it is acquired by real
effort."

I now took the Uberty of turning the
conversation upon the teaching of English
literature. "Have you," I asked Dr.
WeUdon, " any general criticism to make
on the English classics as thej' are jiresented
to schoolboys ? "

"They are apt to be regarded too much
as a medium for teaching grammar and ety-
mology ; and there is not enough effort
made to make boys feel the beaut}- of
masterpieces of literature. At the same
time, such efforts must rest with the
schoolmaster using a classic, rather than
with the editor who annotates it. In the
teaching of English literature the personal
element counts for almost everything."

" You believe, then, Dr. Welldon, that it
is possible to teach English Uterature to
boys — I mean in the sense of inspiring them
with a love of it ? "

" Most certainly I do ; and I regard it as
of the utmost importance to rouse in boys'
minds the sense of literary beautj'. Nothing
is more refining, more educating."

" But is there not a danger of ' staleing '
fine passages of Uterature by jiresenting
them, more or less as task work, to imma-
ture minds? "

"Yes, there is some danger; but where
discretion is used in choosing the right
books for boys, according to their age,
I think no such mischief need ensue.
Teachers, I admit, do not always sufficiently
consider boys' ages in selecting English
subjects. Milton and Shakespeare, for
example, are not suited to young minds ;
on the other hand, such a book as The
Pikirini'a Progress, if it is not read in
childhood, is never reaUy iinderstood and
appreciated. Let me again insist on the
importance of the personal element in the
teaching of English literature. Men like
Dean Farrar and Mr. Bosworth Smith —
both Harrow masters — have shown a won-
derful faculty for making boys appreciate
good literature, and it is this faculty that
counts — not books overloaded with intro-
ductions and notes."

" Do j-ou approve of repetitions as a
means of implanting literary feeling?"

"Oh, yes. When I went to Harrow
I induced one of my colleagues to make a
selection of simple and beautiful poems, such
as appeal to boys ; and these have been in
use ever since for repetitions. Too much
care cannot be exercised in selecting pas-
sages that shall charm boys, and leave an
indelible impression of beaut}-. But the
spirit of freedom must inform aU efforts to
teach English literature. It is important
that every large school shoidd have its
Ubrary, and that this Ubrary should be a

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

[Jan. 15, 1898.

comfortable room to wliich the boys may
retire imobserved, and take down books at
their own wills. I attach the greatest im-
portance to school libraries. Boys' private
reading should be encouraged as far as
possible."

" Do you think that public school boys
are interested in current literature ? "

" Not in an effective way. You see, we
have no writer who is taking the nation by
storm. No writer is generating a powerful
current of sympathy, as did Scott and
Dickens. It requires such an influence in
our midst to make current literature really
a topic and a subject of thought among
boys."

"Tou have insisted. Dr. Welldon, on the
need to awake in boys the sense of literary
beauty. I believe. you have made special
efforts at Harrow to awake their sense of
artistic beauty, also, by reviving the teaching
of drawing? "

" Yes ; and I am glad to say that we now
get remarkable results at Harrow. I must
explain to you that every young boy at
Harrow is compelled to study either draw-
ing or singing. The compulsion, however,
to study either ceases after a time ; and
thus the music and drawing masters' chance
of retaining their pupils is, in general, to
arouse in them, during the compulsory
period, a genuine love for one or the other
of these studies."

" And now. Dr. WeUdon, an old question
in conclusion. Does the constant widening
of the curriculum alarm you ? Do you find
that thoroughness is giving place to variety ? ' '

" The two are certainly, in some sense,
antagonistic ; there can be no denying that.
Glxammatical accuracy, for instance, tends
to suffer when much time is given to the
development of the literary sense. It is a
balance of gain and loss, and all we can do is
to be watchful and see that the gain is
greater than the loss. I ask myself at
Harrow : How can I make the best of the
boys as future citizens of the greatest
empire of the world ? And I do not doubt
that it is my duty to g^ve the widest,
the most various, the most liberal teaching
possible. Moreover, there are other ends to
be kept in view than mere learning. It is
the function of the public schools to teach
public duty. Wherever possible, book-
learning should be made the medium of
inspiring this sentiment in English school-
boys. I may mention that before leaving
Harrow I gave the Harrow boys Mr.
Fitchett's Bee As that Won the Empire as
their holiday task."

"Indeed! That is interesting. And will
they be examined in it on their return ? "

" Oh, yes."

"You have a large Army class at Har-
row ? "

" Yes ; and we have recently started a
Navy class. What is more, we have just
passed a boy first into the Navy direct
from Harrow School. He is the firstfruits
of a new system, in which Mr. Goschen
takes the liveliest interest — a system of
training young boys for the Navy at our
public schools."

Time forbade further conversation; but
as I rose to go, I launched yet another
fjuestion in summary of all my others :

" What broad tendency. Dr. Welldon, do
you discover in education to-day ? "

"I think the tendency should be freedom,
variety, elasticity. I think a schoobnaster
should try, within certain broad limits, to
ascertain what a boy can do best and let
him do it. No doubt, there must be a
backbone of compulsory subjects in all
education ; but the secret of educational
success lies not so much in rigidity as in
the sympathetic study of dispositions and
abilities."

EDUCATION FOR THE CIVIL SER-
VICE OF INDIA.

By a late Member of the Bengal Civil
Service.

As Charles Lamb used to say that his real
works were to be found in the old India
Oflice in Leadenhall-street, so might one
say of Macaulay that his best and most
enduring work (even beyond the History)
is to be found in the present constitution of
the British Government in India. It is to him
that India owes her wonderful Penal Code,
immatched for clearness, and so well suited
to its purpose that the amendments which
the experience of nearly forty years has
shown to be necessary may almost be
counted on one's fingers. How great and
exceptional is this praise will be best known
to those who have seen how the two other
great Indian Codes — those of procedure —
have been added to, modified, and recast
within the same period. It is a common-
place to say that most Englishmen know
no more of their great dependency than
Macaulay has told them in his essays on
Olive and Warren Hastings — and it would
be well if all knew even so much, for i^pace
Matthew Arnold) there is g^eat political
wisdom, not useless for the present time,
to be found therein. Macaulay, too, had
a great share in the reform, in 1833, of the
East India Company, and it was mainly due
to him that the close service was, in 1854,
thrown open to competition, and the masterly
report of him and his colleagues is the
foundation of the system by which the
administrators of India have been chosen
from that day to this. And by general
consent, of foreigners no less than of our-
selves, no more able, loyal, and devoted
service is to be found in the world now, or
has been known in the past.

The principles laid down in the famous
minute must be sought there, but are also
to be found in outline in the speech of
June 23, 1853, which (with his nephew and
biographer) we regret was by its author
excluded from his collected speeches. The
changes that have been from time to time
made in the conditions under which Indian
civilians enter on their career fall mainly
under three heads : first and most im-
portant, age of admission ; second, period
and place of probation; and third, sub-
jects of examination, marks assigned, and
matters subsidiary thereto. Most important
is the question of age, wliich is now again
very nearly the same as that which was at
first fixed, and ,whieh many of the best

judges think is too high. In my opinion
they are right. The age which the candidates
selected at the final examination in 1897 had
reached at the time of that examination
ranged from 1Z\ to very nearly 25 years.
This is too late for young men to enter the
Indian Service, for reasons which I shall
presently give, since there are other considera-
tions which weigh against that physical
maturity which prompted the change, made
five years ago, from the low range of age
which had been the rule for some ten years
previous — and which was as much too low
as the present is too high. As there
is no danger of a return to that low
standard, it wiU be enough to say here
that the change was made at the urgent
and repeated instances of the Indian Govern-
ments, local and Imperial, it having been
found that the mortality among the
junior civilians, as among soldiers who
went to India under twenty, was alarmingly
great. The change made, however, was too
sweeping. When the age of candidates was
originally fixed (in 1854) the system of
examination for public service was new,
special training for the contests was un-
loiown, and the advantages of the Indian
Service were very much greater than now.
Promotion was rapid, the average duration
of service considerably less, and the pay
(nominally not very different) was really,
grade for grade, about double. All these
things make the service much less attractive
to the older men now proceeding to India,
and they wiU feel the pressure of the
changed conditions more as the years pass
on, and they find that they cannot claim their
pensions tiU they are nearly fifty years of
age (say sixty in our own land), that their
service will be mostly spent in comparatively
subordinate positions, and that the pecuniary
reward of zealous and self-sacrificing work
is not very great. All this would, for
obvious reasons, be much mitigated if the
superior limit of age for admission were
again fixed at twenty-one instead of twenty-
three ; and supplementary to that, probably
it would be an advantage to put the lower
limit at " over eighteen " instead of " over
nineteen." (Of course it would be unfair not
to set in the balance for Indian service the
increased advantages, in health, liberal leave
rules and much more ; but no one interested
is likely to overlook or moderate these.)
Another thing that must be mentioned is,
the first competition-waUahs went out to
India at once, and served their probation in
Calcutta, &c., after their period of service
had beg^n. The present one year's proba-
tion in this country is too short for its
purpose, and it seems a mistake to have
only one examination for selected candidates
(in Riding there are no less than three in
the same period). Progress in the com-
pulsory subjects should be tested at least
once before the Final Examination ; this
might prevent such a disaster as befell
one candidate on the last occasion. This
leads me to notice the case of the candidate,
a native of Bengal, who heads the lists both
at the entrance and for seniority — and who
hai utterly failed in the essential qualification of
riding. Under the regulations, this gentle-
man wiU proceed to Calcutta, and, if he still
fail to qualify, the responsibility and in-

Jan. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

justice of retaining him (being unfit), or tlie
odium of ejecting him from the service,
-will be thrown on the Bengal Government
— which is neither fair nor politic.

In regard to the subjects of examination,
I should like to see several changes. The
range embraced was originally, is now, and
•should always be, very wide — so as to reap
from among the best intellects of the
■country of all bents. But the reasons
which in 1892 led the Commissioners to
•strike Italian out of the list are not con-
vincing. It should be restored, and both
Spanish and Russian should be added. No
one who really considers will maintain that
Tiy one of the three is easy, is useless, or
ill be crammed. The last objection does
apply, in large measure, to the various
divisions of history, and to mental and
political science, all of which are highly
marked, and are, of course, great favourites
with tlie candidates. It is just the opposite
with law, with natural science, with lan-
guages thoroughly studied, and, above all,
with mathematics. Having regard to this,
the table of marks might with advantage
he reconsidered.

Again, under the system that has ruled
since 1892, the education of the Indian
civilians has been falling more and more
into the hands of Oxford and Cambridge,
from which have come 210 out of 283 suc-
. ssfid candidates since 1892, excluding
''Oe, where the published tables do
not allow exact figures confined to the
I.C.S. (The numbers were: Oxford 141,
Cambridge 69.) In this matter the great
English universities have fully earned the
reward of their enlightened policy towards
education for India, and before the change
they had already secured a practical mono-
poly of the training of selected candidates,
for whom both colleges and universities did
their utmost. On the contrary, the univer-
sities of Ireland and Scotland have practi-
cally thrown away their share in preparing
candidates, and still more in training pro-
bationers. The arrangements made by the
Scotch universities, as the official paper in
•the reports shows, are ludicrously in-
adeciuate ; no teaching is offered in any of
"the vernaculars, or law, or history of
India. Barren all ! It is not for the best
advantage of the Empire that this should
continue. Each of our three nations excel
the others in some valuable points, and
each should give of its best (as in
olden days they all did) to the rule
of India. Why should the part played by
Scotland and by Ireland in the Army,
Public Works, and other Government de-
partments be so great, and in the Civil
Service so small? In >)oth countries are
plenty of fit candidates, plenty of able
teacliers ; why do they not find one another
out? But if they are falling behind, not
so the natives of India. The latter, passing,
of course, through Oxford or Cambridge,
furnish a steady proportion of successful
candidates ; and as their years of service,
being passed in their own land, wiU be
larger, the initial proportion will always
"tend to increase. In this many wiU see
political danger : it seems clear that we are
not entitled, except by superior capacity, to
rule India, and that when we have enabled

them to set up equally good — and safe —
government for themselves, we should leave,
as we are pledged to go from Egypt. This
paper is long already, so I will notice only
one more point. The names of examiners
at the Open Competition are not given, but
for the Final they are, though the same
reasons would seem to operate in both cases,
and in neither need the names be known
leforehand. It does, however, seem strange
that j'ear after year the teachers of Persian
and Hindustani in Oxford should be ex-
amining one another's pupils — also, no
doubt, their own : there are many other
competent and willing examiners, and the
arrangement is, to say the least, not seemly,
and, if noticed, would give German and
French scholars many a good laugh at us !

AVHAT THE PEOPLE READ.

VIII. — A Schoolboy.

He walked slowly round my room, whistling
gently, and affecting to examine the contents
of my bookshelves. But now and again he
looked wistfully towards a pile of boys'
books in the corner. The pile was diminish-
ing daily ; for rumours of it had got abroad
among my more youthful friends. I told
him he might choose three for himself ; and
he selected The Camp of Refuge, Paris at
Bay, and Afloat with Nelson. Why had he
not chosen The Boys of Huntingley, which
was a public school story, since he was a
public schoolboy himseK ? Well, he didn't
much care about stories of schoolboys ; the
boys were generally such "rotters." Yes,
they had Eric; or, Little hy Little, in the
library at school, and he called it rank
piffle, what he had seen of it. But Tom
Brown's Schooldays wasn't half bad ; of
course, everybody read that. Poetry ? No,
he hadn't read much poetry. Oh, yes ! he
had read The Bah Ballads, also The Barrack-
room Ballads ; Burnup had lent them to
him— Bumup was his house tutor — and
they, too, weren't half bad; but they weren't
poetry. Poetry, I elicited finally, was the
stuff you had to turn into Latin verses —
Milton, for choice.

On the whole, the best book he had ever
read was Harry Lorreqxter, though he had
been reading Oliver Twist these holidays,
and found it not half bad. Rolinson Crusoe'^
No, he hadn't read that, though he knew
the work in pantomime form ; nor yet the
Swiss Family Rolinson, which he had been
told was rather footling. Should a book
have a girl in it ? or did girls spoil books ?
The question seemed to make him a little
uneasy. But, when we had threshed the
matter out, we agreed that a girl does not
necessarily ruin a book, that she often
improves it, and that, in fact, the best kind
of book is the book which has a good deal
of fighting, and just a little bit of girl.
Like the Prisoner of Zenda ? Yes ; a chap
had brought it back to school last term, and
it wasn't half bad. He liked Princess
Flavia.

Had I any of Stevenson's books? Yes,
I had, but not to give away. And was he
an admirer of Stevenson ? Well, he had

read Treasure Island, and it wasn't half bad ;
but it wasn't that so much as Burnup — the
house tutor, you know. Burnup, you see,
was awfully keen on getting the chaps to
read good books, and Bumup thought no
end of Stevenson. Bumup always wanted
to know what you had been reading during
the holidays, and it wouldn't be half a bad
idea to read one of Stevenson's books — for
the benefit of Bumup. Burnup could do
a lot for you if you did get into a
hole. So Kidnapped was added to the
other three— as a loan. Yes, taking them
all round, books about the sea were the
best — Westward Ho > for instance, and
Midshipman Easy. Whence it would seem
that no quite recent writer has quite got
the grip of Marryat and Kingsley on the
schoolboy. But he had never heard of
Sandford and Merton.

StUl, when you have to play football and
go in for house runs and do prep., to say
nothing of spending some hours a day in
form, you don't get very much time for
reading. Besides, it's rather smuggish to
read much out of school. The thing to do
is to read in form, which is quite easy when
your form master is short-sighted. Just
stick your book in the lid of your desk,
under your construe and you can read away
as much as you like. Only it has to be a
thin book. The best for this purpose is the
Red Rovers of Mexico, because it is printed
on very thin paper, and has a paper cover.
Besides it only costs a penny, and even this
expense may be diminished by tearing out
the pages and passing them round as you
read them. Every chap in the upper fourth
has read the Red Rovers of Mexico. Its —
well — rather steep, you know ; you can't
believe all of it ; but it really isn't half bad.
And then he departed to read Kidnapped
for the benefit — primarily of Bumup, but to
his own ultimate profit.

THE TRADE IN SCHOOL BOOKS

Steoxg Protests from Booksellers.

We have thought it interesting to ascer-
tain the position which school books occupy
in the esteem of booksellers. The result of
our inquiries has surprised us. We had
supposed that the profit on school books
was good, and that the sale of this class of
literature was one of the bookseller's com-
pensations. We now know better. From
every part of the coimtry we have reports
written in a tone of almost bitter complaint.
The trade in school books is appropriated
by wholesale firms, who obtain school books
on terms which make it impossible for the
bookseller to compete. Incidentally, our
bookseller corresi^ondents make various
shrewd suggestions, which we commend
to aU who are interested in educational
matters.

A large London bookseller leads the way
with the following statement :

" This is undoubtedly the worst feature of
what has to be considered ' a bad business.'
The bookseller comes into competition with
almost the whole of the publishers of school

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

[.Tax. 1.5, 1898.

books, -with disastrous results to himself; and
trade is goiug from bad to worse. All cbe
largest schools buy dii-ect : orders are booked by
publishers' travellers, and the terms are
frequently (if not aH-ays) better than those
given to booksellers. In addition, fashions in
school books are constantly changing, and the
stock room gets choked with ' overs.' These
remarks do not, however, apply to terhnical books
or books for evening classes, &c., which are con-
stantly increasing in number and excellence,
thus compensating one for the loss(?) of the
school trade."

A Brighton bookseller writes :

" We do not consider the sale of educational
books by any means a profitable one, for the
following reasons :

(1) Educational books are always wanted
quickly, which necessitates the keeping of a
large stock in order to do any trade in this
department.

(2) The purchasers of school books always
require the utmost discoimt obtainable.

(3) The pubhshers' terms are more strict over
these books than on any other class of literature.

(4) Much dead stock is inevitably made by
frequent issue of new editions, rendering old
ones unsaleable, and by change of text-books
in the schools.

We think that all school books should be
exchangeable for new editions when issued, and
better terms given oh educational books all
round."

Bristol is the educational metropolis of
the West of England, but a Bristol book-
seller writes in no jubilant strain about the
profits of the school book trade in that city :

" The school book trade is so cut, the profits
are so small, and the changes of books so
frequent, that it is dangerous to stock school
books. By the way, are not booksellers very
foolish to alwaj's tell the public the cost price
of these goods ? Does any other trade act thus
foolishly 'r "

A Birmingham correspondent sends iis a
message which confirms, from a bookseller's
point of view, some of the opinions expressed
by Dr. Welldon in the interview which
appears in another colxmin :

"Tlie trade in school books and educational
books] generally is verj- risky: the frequent
changes, the modem plan of using books for
one term only, the modest price at which they
are published, and the short life of so many
tchool books, make the business a most hazard-
ous one. Not-sj-ithstandrng, it is fairly profitable.
We supply all the colleges and high schools in Bir-
mingham, but we avoid the elementary schools.
There are too many school books. We wish it
were possible to punish the next person who
writes, prints, or pubhshes a new Greek, Latm,
French, or German ' System,' ' Couree ' or
' Reader.' "

This report is not contradicted by another
emanating from Birmingham :

'' I have for years avoided the school trade
as far as school books, &c., are concerned. The
discounts to the customer are larger, and the
terms from the publisher to the trade smaller,
than in any other department of the book trade!
£1,00() of the turnover in school books are
sold at a loss to the retailer when working
expenses are calculated. The net system is
better apphed to school books than many other
classes of literature."

An Oxford bookseller's experience is this :

"I cannot speak as to ordinary school books

but those used in the ' Schools ' are always in

brisk demand, and a book that has something
in it of real value to Oxford men, even though
the price be high, is bought imgrudgingly.

But is it not a waste of energj- and scholarship,
to say nothing of money and booksellers' brains,
that so many chips from the Classics should be
duplicated and quadruplicated as they are
nowadays? "

From a Chester firm of booksellers we
have this report :

"Fortunately, we have not a large business
of the class indicated. We doubt very much
if it can be profitably conducted, unless on a
verj- large scale, and with travellers. The
infinite detail, the cut prices, and defen-ed
payments — not to mention bad debts — render
the bulk of such customers unprofitable, though
there are, in our connexion, one or two large
accoimts which we value highly."

A Cardiff bookseller writes :

" I have never attempted to do business in
school books and educational works. I find
that wholesale houses, who get special tei-ms
from publishers, take advantage of this privilege
to obtain orders against the retail bookseller.
I think it is too bad that traders, who obtain
special discoimt for the piuijose of supplj-ing
retailers, should go direct to the retailers'
customers — the schools."

Our Cheltenham correspondent is not
ent'iusiastic :

" I supply most of the high-class schools here
with books. The class of books used constantly
changes, so that it is unwise to stock school
books, as the profit realised is small at the best.
The reduction in price, and reissues of cheap
editions, such as the 'Penny Poets,' &c., tells
much against the returns."

A HaiTogate bookseller brings an indict-
ment against Leeds :

" My experience of school-book trade is that
the less I stock of school books and sell the
better under present conditions. This class of
trade is most unprofitable. A certaia Leeds
fii-m has obtained the contract for our School
Board at one-third o£f. I offered 25 per cent.
Now 8J difi'erence means a lot to the Board and
absolutely nothing to the contractor. Bear in
mind that carriage on the books has to be paid
to Leeds. Then the books must be overhauled
and sent out again, carriage -paid to HaiTOgate.
Can you show me where the profit comes ui ?
This apphes not only to the School Board but
to most, if not all the private schools as well.
All the publishers are sending out travellers
now in all dii-ections, waiting upon the teachers,
and supplj-ing their wants. Our experience is
unmistakably this— to keep off aU school books
and matenal for schools. Prize books only we
cultivate, for Sunday and day schools."

From a Norwich bookseller :

,.,'''^® °^y opinion I can oflTer is that it is
httle use trjing to do a school and educational
trade unless one is able to offer large discounts
and employ canvassers to solicit orders. This
district IS well covered by large wholesale
houses who can offer exceptional terms, against
which a retail bookseller is unable to compete."

A bookseller of Darlington writes :
"Our exijerience of school books is the same
as of books m general, only worse. A powerful
monopoly, in the shape of a limited company
consisting mainly of school teachers, have the
matter lu their own hands in a radius of over
100 miles. Booksellers are poweriess. It is

quite hopeless to attempt to compete with sucii
an organisation. They have, therefore, to look
for other branches of trade to eke out a living.
The second grade schools take a few books;
but the frequent changes they make entail a.
loss on books left over and imsalcable. Yet
we are obliged to keep up the fiction of selling-
school books for the sake of keoi)iug the con-
nexion together. An unprofitable class of
trade!"

A leading firm of Edinburgh booksellers
echoes the universal complaint, and adds a
suggestion :

"The enormous increase in the number of
educational books published, and the consequent
rajjid changes in those used in any given school
or college, render this department the most
difficult to deal -n-ith in the whole business of
bookselling. The stock increases, and books-
which one year sell well may next year be
worthless. Could booksellers not invent a^
system of exchange which might be for mutual
advantage ? "

A Dublin bookseller writes favourably of
the trade in school books, but with strong
resen-ations :

" After a long experience in everj- branch of
education books — from the most abstruse subject
in mathematics and science to the elementary
school book — we stiU look upon it as an impor-
tant department in bookselling, and a fairly
remunerative one.

It is a department which requires constant
attention ; and great care must be exercised
in ordering stock, as a book in demand to-day
may he superseded by another next week, and
become dead and useless stock.

We are strongly of opinion that where this
class of business cannot be done ^vithout accept-
ing contracts at ' cutting ' prices, it had far
better be left severely alone."

Lastlj-, a Belfast bookseller writes in
vehement strain :

" Educational books are now made up for
cram, not eihtcation, and they are a great
nuisance to the bookseller, who must be wide
awake if he wishes to keep soul uud body
together."

NEWSPAPEE ENGLISH.

In a recent issue Mr. Earl Hodgson found
fault with certain turns of phrase that are
met with in current English. His list was
not a long one. He coidd, no doubt, have
extended it considerably, and if he had done
so I should probably, for mj- part, have
been able thoroughly to disagree with him
on many points. As it is, I could not, with
a clear conscience, subscribe to his protest
in all particulars. But that is neither here
nor there. I merelj' cite our divergence of
view as typical. Hardly any two writers of
English are at one in their ideas as to idiom
or construction, and if they were they would
still be liable to be bowled out by the
printer's reader, who has his views on the
subject too. At present it is the printer's
reader who rules the roost — or is it
roast? If he were always of one
mind that would not greatly matter, since
what we want above all things is uni-
formity or rule. Unfortunately every

Jax. 15 1898.]

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THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

' great printing establishment has methods of
its own, both of spelling and phraseology.
The great London newspapers ought to be
I weUs of English imdefiled. As every critical
reader knows, they are very far from eam-
} ing that distinction. In one of our leading
i journals, for instance, you will never find
the good old Saxon phrase " five and
I twenty." The writer may write it, but the
! printer's reader, acting upon some rule or
I tradition of the office, turns it into "25."
jNow "five and twenty," I submit, is not
exactly 25. It is a more indefinite numljer
j The writer who says five and twenty does
I not mean to be as precise as an accountant
or a bank clerk. Consider what would be
the effect of expressing Tennyson's poem,
"The Charge of the Light Brigade," as
" the charge of the 600." Some of the
' delicate suggestiveness of the line would at
; once fade out of it. For many years the
Times tried to introduce "holyday" as the
[spelling of "holiday." It has given it
I up, and very properly, because holiday has
]long ceased to be holy-day. Another
questionable idiosjiicrasy of the daily press
I may be mentioned. Finales, in music,
lis given in italics — thus, finales. This is
i wrong, because " finales " is an entirely
English word. The italicised form would be
[right if the word were French. But it is
not French. We take it from the Italian,
pronouncing it in three syllables — fin-al-e
— and g^ve it an English plural. To be
italicised it ought to be given the Italian
plural, final;'. As pronounced and written
lit is English and notliing else, and there-
jfore ought to be printed in the ordinary
Enman character. On the same principle
" impresarios" ought not to be italicised, as
it usually is.

The other day I read in an eloquent
article : " Everybody is entitled to their
opinion." This is very bad, of course, but
'" everybody " and " everyone " are bother-
jing words. Ought we to say " everybody is
[entitled to his or her opinion," or is " his "
|opinion enough ? Everybody on this ques-
Ition is not agreed. Then consider the various
ways of saying the equivalent of on pent :
I" one "You can," "they can," "we can,"
'jan," " people can." Is there any great
[language but English lacking in the im-
personal pronoun represented by " on " ? And
[wouldn't it bo supplied, or, rather, restored,
iEor it existed in Anglo-Saxon ? " Mon sceal
i3od lufian," said the Englishmen of the
bleventh century, the "mon" being a near
irelative of the Gorman "man," as in "man
Imgt." Perhaps the "mon" has become
mpossible ; but of the various equivalents in
ise which is the best ? " No one was there
put I " is a very common phrase. I think
1 1, nevertheless, wrong. The " but " seems
|;o me to have the same force as " except,"
iind to be entitled to carry an objective
with it — i.e., " me." This word " me "
jbrings up a crucial point. In answer
TO the question, "Who is there?" nine
English people out of ten say "Me." The
|Latin-minded grammarians contend for " I "
!>n the strength of the rule of Latin that the
yorb " esse " takes the same case after it as
Iriefore it. But there is something to be said
tor the popular usage. The modem English
pxpression is borrowed from the French,

" C'est moi," and is at best aVhybrid. In
Old English they had a distinctively English
form: "I am it," corresponding to the
German, "Ich bin es " ; and we still say
in analogous circumstances, "Who is it?"
Could we have " I am it " restored, or at
least " It's me " sanctioned ?

Many purists condemn such a phrase as
"no sort or kind" on ' the ' ground of
tautology. I should be sorry, however, to
see it disapjDear, because it is a landmark in
English philology ; it is a relic of the
fusion of Saxon and Norman-French At
that period many phrases of a bi-lingual
character crept into use, and this is
one of them. " Truth and honour " is
another, truth being "troth," or honour,
as in " by my troth." " Voice " as a verb
is much objected to, coming to us modems
as it does f from'' American sources - e.g.,
to "voice" the public sentiment. I don't
like it, and never use it, but it occurs in
Shakespeare. Notoriously many so-called
Americanisms are old English provincial-
isms. The purists threaten, indeed, to
become insufferable pedants. It is now the
custom of the printer's reader — our great
authority — to treat "none" as invariably
singular, a contraction for no one. But it
is useful as a plural, and is so used in
Shakespeare — e.g., "Speak daggers, but use
none." 'Why may we not continue to say,
"I spoke to no women at the meeting
because there were none present " ?

More objectional still is the growing
practice of treating a collective phrase as
a plural. The printer's reader no longer
allows us to say: "His life was marked
with . a goodness and truth that was un-
deniable." We are now expected to use
" were." Presently we shall be saying
" Thirteen and fourpence are the price."
Already some people say " Five pounds are
a large sum "; and we are losing, if we
have not already lost, the right to speak of
"five foot ten." The pedant, too often
ignorant of the Saxon idiom, will have it
"feet." Our plurals certainly want regu-
lating. Macaulay speaks of " a shambles,"
but it gives me a shudder to read of "a
gasworks." "Why not "a gaswork " or " a
soapwork " ? "Politics" and "news" are
becoming established as singular nouns ;
but the newspaper scribe is still bothered
with " lock-out," the plural of which is given
both as locks-out and lock-outs. To my mind
" locks-out" is not defensible because " lock"
there is not a noun but a verb. Of ' ' author "
and " authoress " as applied to a woman,
which is the better ? There appears to be
no rule. Miss Braddon on her title-pages
always calls herself an " author." Again,
is it Whitsun Day or Whit Sunday ? We
say " Whitsuntide," but then we also say
"Whit Monday. I should say Whitsun was
correct. For years that excruciating phrase
"Parcels Post" obtained official sanction.
It is now happily changed to " Parcel Post,"
which is truer to English idiom, though
"Telegraphs Department" remains to vex
our souls ; and, of course, there is still the
"London Parcels Delivery Company " flying
in the face of philology. Possibly " Parcels
Post " was suggested by such phrases as
" heart's desire " or "money's worth," but
there is no real analogy between them.

One abomination is no sooner got rid of
than another (to my thinking) grows up.
We say " Macmillans are publishing a
book," or "Longmans." Indeed, the latter
firm adopt "Longmans" as their style and
title, though everybody knows the members
of the firm are the Messrs. Longman. This
does not appear to me to be good English.
The analogy is "the baker's" or "the
greengrocer's," but it is once more a false
analogy. " Later on " is objected to by Mr.
Earl Hodgson, and it strikes me, too, as a
vulgarism. But it has its analogy in " fur-
ther on," which is perfectly good English.
It is a coming-on phrase. "Later" is
rather a bald expression ; the " on " helps
it somehow, and I imagine "later on"
has come to stay. We badly need an
authoritative declaration with respect to it.
Also on the question of the "split infini-
tive." I don't like " to greatly increase,"
preferring " greatly to increase " ; but I am
not prepared to say that it is un-English.
Pretty much the same remark applies to
what is called the flat infinitive. " Come
and help us kill the fatted calf " instead of
" to kill" has something in its favour ; but
I draw the line at the Americanism, " to
help persons appreciate the scenery."

I have by no means exhausted the de-
batable points of idiom or construction.
Every writer of experience could add
to the list. Only the more obvious have
I touched upon. Many of a subtle
character remain. "Wliat reporter, for in-
stance, knows how to render correctly, in
the third person, such a qualifying phrase
as "I dare say " ? I have seen " he dared
say" and " he durst say," but both fail to
render the sense — which is, " he rather
thought." Again, in such a sentence as,
" This has had the more effect that many
of the speeches were," &c., which is the
better word after " effect " — " that " or
" because " ? Both are used. Again, is
"bluff" good English or slang? I say
nothing of a general reform of English
spelling. That is never likely to come now.
It could not be attempted without the
adoption of a greatly extended alphabet to
render the many half-sounds that occur in
English. We should never accustom our-
selves to saying that an article was "mad
in Jermani " or "mad in Frans." Nor is
it necessary that we should. I have always
thought the spelling reformers mistook the
conditions of the problem. Our spelling
may be erratic, but the printed word is a
kind of visual counter. We learn to recog-
nise it, and to spell it, by the eye. How
often do we feel that a word looks wrongly
spelt ? Words have to be taken en bloc, and
it would be exactly the same with the
" fonetic " monstrosities proposed as their
substitutes. In reading, we never get at the
sense of a word by spelling it, and " cough "
and "plough," although theoretically anoma-
lous and incongruous, present no practical
difficulty. Still, spelling might in certain
cases be simplified witli advantage. "Pro-
gram " and " jewelry " are better than the
accepted forms " programme," "jewellery."

At present English is like a luxuriant
garden running wild. It needs trimming
and weeding.

J. F. NiSBET,

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

[Jan. 1.5, 1898.

REVIEWS.

SCIENCE.

MATHEMATICS AND MECHANICS.

An Elementary Treatise on the Metric System of
Weights and Measures. By J. Hamblin Smith.
(Longmans, Green, & Co.)

University Tutouial Series. — Euclid : Bojks
I.^IV. By Kupert Deakin. The Tutorial
Trigonometry, By William Briggs and G.
H. Bryan. (W. B. Clive.)

Elementary Geometrical Statics. By W. J. Dobbs.
(Macmillan & Co.)

Applied Mechanics. By John Perry. (Cassell

&Co.)
Steam Boilers. By George Halliday. (Edward

Arnold.)
If the recommendations of the Parliamentary
Committee appointed in 1895 to consider our
system of weights and measures had been
accepted, the use of the Metric System would
now be compulsory. But though Parliament
passed an Act to legalise this system for the
purposes of trade, the Government very wisely
decided not to ask for powers to enforce the
use of metres, grams, and litres, upon a nation
which had learned to think in yards, ounces,
and quarts. Nothing but good can result,
however, from a wider acquaintance with the
metric system than is possessed at present by
commercial men. But familiarity with the
system must be obtained by actual measure-
ments rather than by abstract arithmetical
exercises on its various units. We are there-
fore of the opinion that Mr. Hamblin
Smith's treatise will not be nearly so useful
in extending the knowledge of metric units of
measurement as the penny rules and tape
measures which are nowr sold, marked in
both centimetres and inches.

Several excellent editions of Euclid's Elements
have been published in recent years ; and Mr.
D -akin's rendering of the first four books takes
its place among them. The propositions are
clearly set down, both in figure and text, and
many most helpful notes are given upon the
methods of proof. Moreover, special care has
been taken with the exercises; and if the
student pays attention to the hints given, he
will soon find as much pleasure in working
riders as he does in solving puzzles.

Another book in which the student is given
every assistance which it is possible for a text-
book to render is the Tutorial Trigonometry, by
Prof. Bryan and Mr. Briggs. Believing— and
rightly so— that "a thorough grasp of the nature
and general properties of trigonometricf unctions
is just as essential as facility in manipulating
trigonometric expressions," general definitions
referring to angles both greater and less
than a right angle are introduced at an early
stage. Rather more than a half of the book
is dev ited to functions, formulae, and equa-
tions referring to one or more angles, while
the remainder deals with logarithms and the
solution of triangles. The introduction of
a chapter describing the methods of repre-
senting trigonometric functions by diagrams
is much to be commended. Graphical methods
of representing facts and relationships not
only aid the student, but are of the utmost
value to the practical man.

Mr. Schooling has shown how statistics
can be made intelligible by means of diagram',
and science teachers are rapidly learning that
gejmetrical constructions appeal much more
forcibly to the mind than mathematical
formulas. In Mr. Dobbs's Elementary Oeo-
metrical Statics the subject of graphic statics
is dealt with in a systematic manner. It is

easy to understand that any force acting
upon a body can be represented by a line,
both as regards the point at which it is
applied, the direction in which it acts, and the
strength or magnitude. Taking this as a
fundamental principle, Mr. Dobbs shows how
the resultants and conditions of equilibrium of
forces having various lines of action can be
represented by geometrical figures. True it is
that the rods and strings involved in the pro-
blems are assumed to have neither weight nor
thickness, and that the frameworks to which
attention is given are indeformable ; neverthe-
less, the principles described may be applied
to stresses generally, and should form an essen-
tial part of the education of every engineer.

In contrast with the purely geometrical
aspect of forces presented in Mr. Dobbs's work,
we have Prof. Perry's aggressively practical
views expressed in his Applied Mechanics.
Prof. Perry holds very strong opinions upon
the manner in which mechanics should be
taught, and he airs his views in his text-book
in a way which a candid critic might describe
as egotistic. But when he descends to gibes at
academic teaching, he irritates the reader and
spoils his studeuts. Surely a student must have
received a fair amount of academic training
before he can use the differential and integral
calculus, yet the calculus is introduced on p. 15
of Prof. Perry's book. However, the students
who use the book may, and probably will, evade
the paragraphs in which the calculus is used.
There will stiU remain a practical course on
general principles which should be known by
every student of mechanical engineering.

For apprentices and workmen who have not
had a preliminary training such as the book
affords, but who wish to learn something of
the scientific principles involved in the con-
struction of boilers, Mr. Halliday's mauual on
Steam Boilers is admirably suited. The practical
knowledge gainei in the workshojj or factory
finds an adequate supplement in this manual,
which is intermediate between the abstract
text-book of heat or steam and the highly
specialised treatise. The volume is a very
valuable addition to technological handbooks,
and may profitably be read by everyone who
has to do with the construction, trial, or
management of steam boilers of any type.

ELECTRICITY AND MAGNETISM.

Theory of Electricity and Magnetism. By
Charles E. Curry. (Macmillan &. Co.)

The Theory of Electricity and Magnetism : being
Lectures on Mathematical Physics. By Arthur
G. Webster. (Macmillan & Co.)

First Principles of Electricity and Magnetism.
By C. H. W. Biggs. (Biggs & Co.)

The Principles of Alternate Current Wm-king.
By Alfred Hay. (Biggs & Co.)

Dk. Cukky's treatment of the Theory of
Electricity and Magnetism is based upon a
work by Prof. Bolizmann, who contributes a
preface to it. The treatise could have been
appropriately entitled a, philosophy of electricity
and magnetism, and is a good example of the
manner in which electric and magnetic theory
is studied on the Continent. As a rule, British
men of science (mathematicians excepted) like
to deal with phenomena first and theory after-
wards, but the philosophical German mind
reverses this order and considers how the facts
fit the theory rather than how the theory
explains the facts. In Dr. Curry's book the
deductive method of reasoning is strictly
followed, the aim being "to show that
Maxwell's theory, with its recent modifications
and developments, suffices to explain all
phenomena of electricity and magnetism, and
on the other hand, that all electric and
magnetic phenomena follow directly from it."

To students already familiar with modem views
of electricity, the treatise will be of service iaJ
showing how electric and magnetic phenomenaJ
may be derived from Maxwell's fundamental!
equations. I

Prof Webster's work also deals with thft4
mathematical theory of electricity, but from »l| j
different standpoint, being an introduction to •
Maxwell's classical treatise rather than a bri«{$
to show the soundness of the Max wellian theoiyM
The first half of the book is devoted to th
treatment of departments of mathematics
theoretical mechanics bearing upon mathen
tical physics, and not until p. 243 is reache^
are electrostatics, electromagnetics, and magne-',
tism brought into consideration. It may bei
doubted, however, whether such an inordinat(
amount of introductory matter is desirable i
a work intended for University students ; fori
even granting that a student should be weUl
provided with tools for his mental work, the|
value of the tools can best be understood
using them at once upon concrete mater
If the theorems which occupy the first half <
the book are " simply matters of geometry an
analysis," the title should have made this fact
clear. Putting this aside, there is no doubt
that Prof. Webster's treatise will assist students
who intend to devote attention to the more
difficult works of Maxwell, Helmholtz, Hertz,
and Heaviside.

Very little mathematical knowledge is needed
to understand Mr. Biggs's book on Electricity
and Magnetism. The book contains a clear
statement of the principles xmderlying the
construction and use of apparatus employed in
the laboratory and in simple electrical in-
stallations. The treatment is original in many
resi^ects, and the information given is often of
a practical kind, not found in similar elemen-
tary works. The free use of the first person
singular is not unpleasing, though here and
there it jars upon the reader. For instance,
the expression "This is the fifth time I have
bad a shot at this preface " is not altogether
happy.

Mr. Hay's book on Alternate Current Working
brings us right into the domain of electrotech-
nics. It is a very helpful little volume upon
a difficult branch of electrical engineering, and
as a stepping-stone to the more advanced
treatises of Fleming and Jackson is much to be
commended. We doubt if there is another
book which will serve that purpose better than
Mr. Hay's does.

CHEMISTRY.

A Course of Practical Chemistry. By M. M.
Pattison Muir. Part I. : Elementary. (Long-
mans.)

Chemistry for Photographers. By Chas. F.
Townsend. (Dawbam & Ward.)

Agricultural Chemistry. By R. H. Adie and
T. B. Wood. 2 vols. (Kegan Paul.)

Mr. Pattison Muir has so freely criticised the
methods of teaching chemistry set forth in
various text-books that we opened his own book
with a certain amount of curiosity; and we
confess to a feeling of disappointment at the
result. The book is good in some respects, but
it does not possess those original qualities which,
wrongly perhaps, we have been led to expect.
It is now generally conceded that a student
should begin the study of chemistry by a course
of practical work on the properties of substances
and by investigatijus of simple physical and
chemical changes. This is the method f iiUowed
by Mr. Muir, nearly one-half the book being
taken up with experiments on important in-
organic substances. The student is thus trained
to use his reasoning powers before he reaches
qualitative analysis proper. The first part of
the book has, therefore, a distinct educational

Jax. 15, 1898.

THE A.CADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

' value, but in our opinion qualitative analysis
has none, and only those students wLo intend
to become analysts ought to give time to it.
I The analysis of simple salts is, however, usually
jan obligatory part of a course in chemistry, and
this being so, Mr. Muir's book is as good as any
! other to work from. The book is built upon a
I definite plan, and the information given is sen-
sible as well as sound.

I It differs entirely from Mr. Towusond's
{chemistry for Photographers, which aims at
'being serviceable rather than educational.
jAmateur photographers, and professionals as
'well, are as a rule content to be profoundly
Ignorant i f the chemical processes involved in
jthe production of negatives and prints. Let
Ithem read Mr. Townsend's book and they will
find that they will be able to extend their work
considerably, even though in a few cases the
descriiitions of chemical reactions are more
forcible than accurate.

The Agricultural Chemistry, of Messrs. Adie
i.iud Wood, is by no means a success, either in
[plan or execution. The pages are uncut (a
distinct drawback to an elementary work), the
^figures are bundled together at the commence-
ment of the first volume, and numerous para-
l^raphs and sentences are placed iu square
brackets without any reason being assigned,
jlhe only good points about the volumes are
jrimplicity of treatment and a progressive series
bf experiments, but we are sure these are not
sufficient to attract the teachers and students
::or whom the work is intended, or to divert
ittention from the many deficiencies.

BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES.

d Text-book of Physiology. By M Foster.
Assisted by C. S. Sherrington. Part III.
"The Central Nervous System." (Macmillan.)

Lectures on Physiology. First Series : " Animal
Electricity." By Augustus D. Waller.
(Longmans.)

Elements of the Comparative Anatomy of Verte-
brates. Adapted from the German of Dr. R.
Wiedersheim, by W. N. Parker. (Macmillan.)

rhe Vertebrate Skeleton. By Sydney H. Reynolds.
(Cambridge University Press )

'jissona in Elementary Biology. By T. Jeffery
Parker. (Macmillan. )

4 I'ext-book of General Botany. By Carlton C.
Curtis. (Longmans.)

'"OF. Michael Foster's Text-book of Physi-
' is a classic. It is a book which must be
„-d by the earnest stu'lent of physiology, and
ji'hich every practitioner should keep by him for
;efi-rence. More than twenty years have elapsed
ince the work first appeared, but throughout
jhat ijeriod it has occupied the foremost place
,mong books dealing with the science of vital
|Uachiun-y. The present edition— the seventh
j— of the part of the book devoted to the central
'lervous system has been largely revised to bring
|t into line with the remarkable advances which
he study cf the brain has made within the past
ew years.

t After reading Prof. Waller's lectures on
\hiimal Electricity we are more than ever sony
hat he has resigned his chair at the Royal
Institution, where they were delivered ; for
'hey constitute a most important contribution
o the physics of living matter. Animal elec-
|ricity is considered to have had its origin in
•he observation by Galvani of spasmodic move-
fieuts in the legs of freshly-killed frogs sus-
•lended on copjjer hooks. The nerves in the
fcgs were receiving a weak current of electricity
'nd they expressed their feelings in spasms.
)r. Waller's experiments consist in removing
he nerve from its natural organ and exciting it
lectrically to see how it responds. The isolated
lerve thus treated produces an effect upon a gal-

vanometer connected with it, and the effect can
be proved to be an exact measm:e of its physio-
logical activity. Only living nerves produce
these electrical effects when stimulated; dead
nerves having no excitability whatever. The
activity of a nerve under various influences,
such as anaesthetics, heat, acids, alcohol,
tobacco smoke, &c., can, therefore, be found by
observing the change in the character of the
normal electric response when the nerve is
stimidated under the different conditions. That
is what Dr. Waller has done, and the results of
his interesting inquiries are described in lucid
language in the present volume.

The third edition of Dr. Wiedersheim's stan-
dard work on Comparative Anatomy forms the
basis of Prof. W. N. Parker's text-book, which
differs, however, so much from the original that
it is practically a new book. By treating the
German edition freely, abridging it in some
parts and adding new material to others, the
work is made far more suitable to English
readers than if the text had merely been
translated. The plan of the book is to com-
pare the organs of animals and to show how
they individually have suffered evolution. A
general knowledge of zoology is necessary
before the book can be usefully studied, but
the illustrations are so numerous and instructive
that they alone provide the means for a liberal
education in compar.ative anatomy. Medical
student!!, and workers in vertebrate morphology,
should certainly add the book to their libraries.
The skeleton comes in for a large share of
attention, and in Mr. Sydney Reynolds's Verte-
brate Skeleton it is treated in detail. For each
group of animals the general skeletal characters
are first described ; then the skeleton of the
selected type is taken, and this is followed by
the treatment of the skeleton as developed in
the group organ by organ. The book covers
a wide field, some animals which are not strictly
vertebrate being included ; but Mr. Reynolds
has dealt with them all in a satisfactory manner.

The course of general biology contained in the
late Prof. T. J. Parker's Lessons in Elementary
Biology (third edition) serves to give students
who have studied zoology and botany separ-
ately a connected view of organic life from the
simple blobs of protoplasm known as amoebae
to the more complex organisms. The types
described illustrate all the more important
modifications of structure, and the chief physio-
logical processes, in plants and animals. Prof.
Parker was singularly successful as a teaoher,
and his lessons stand as a memorial of his
exceptional powers.

The Text-book of General Botany of Dr.
Curtis is a laboratory manual and class-book
combined. The practical exercises contained
in the book are many in number and in some
cases difficult of execution, but the student who
performs them will not only gain considerably
in knowledge, but also in self-reliance and
intelligence; and the development of these
faculties is, after all, the most important aim of
scientific work. The book is, however, too
elaborate to be of service in the colleges below
university rank.

GEOLOGY AND PHYSIOGRAPHY.

A Text-book of Geology. By W. Jerome
Harrison. (Blackie.)

Physiography for Advanced Students. By A. T.

Simmons. (MacmiUan & Co.)
Elementary Practical Physiography. By John

Thornton. (Longmans.)

Geology cannot be learnt from books, but
books can be of immense service in directing
observation, and showing how observed facts
may be co-ordinated. This is done admirably
by Mr. Harrison in his Text-book of Geology.
The book is a connected statement, clearly

printed and well illustrated, of the lessons
taught by the rocks. It is intended more
especially for students in classes under the
Science and Art Department, but it deserves,
and will doubtless receive, recognition from
the general reader.

Another Departmental text-book is Mr. A. T.
Simmons's Physiography for Advanced Students,
and it is even better than Mr. Harrison's. The
book is really a concise encyclopaedia, in which
the earth, the sea, the air, and the sky are
dealt with in all their varying aspects. The
illustrations — there are more than two hundred
— are the best that have ever appeared in a
volume designed for use by physiography
students of the Science and Art Department,
and the information given puts the reader in
touch with the researches and views of the
foremost authorities in the various branches of
science comprehended by physiography. It
would be difficult to produce a volume which
better facilitates the work of the teacher, or is
better adapted to the wants of the student.

Mr. Thornton's Practical Physiography is also
deserving of praise, but, being more elementary
in character and less comprehensive in scope,
it lacks the numerous descriptions of recent
woi'k which give life to Mr. Simmons's book.
This notwithstanding, the book provides a good
course of lessons and experiments in elementary
mechanics, physics, and chemistry.

POPULAR SCIENCE.

Light, Visible and Invisible. By Silvanus P.
Thompson. (Macmillan & Co.)

The Induction Coil in Practical Work. By
Lewis Wright. (Macmillan & Co.)

By H. W. Conn.

The Story of Germ Life.
(Newnes.)

Peof. Silvanus Thompson's book on Light,
based upon a course of lectures delivered at the
Royal Institution, should be in the possession
of everyone who takes an intelligent interest
in science. The book is a model of what a
scientific work intended for general readers
should be. It is attractive in appearance, pro-
fusely illustrated, and an accurate statement of
the present state of knowledge of the subject.
There is no descent to buffoonery, such as one
finds in some popular books of science, and no
florid language. The reader is shown clear
pictures of the science of optics from the best
aspects, and he can obtain intellectual enjoy-
ment by contemplating them. Rontgen rays,
and their relationships to other rays, form the
subject of a very interesting chapter of the
book.

The apparatus for producing Rontgen rayo,
and for studyiug the phenomena of the elec-
tric discharge in partial and in high value, is
ably described by Mr. Wright in his book on
the Induction Coil in Practical Work. All the
information required to understand and mani-
pulate an induction coil, and to obtain the best
results from it, is given in this unpretentious
handbook. For persons who wish to take up
Rontgen-ray work, either as a scientific recrea-
tion or with surgical applications iu mind, the
volume is particularly suitable.

Mr. Conn's Story of Germ Life will assist in
correcting erroneous impressions concerning
bacteria, and in extending the knowledge of
the functions of bacterial life in nature. Who-
ever reads the book with attention will profit
by it.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Humane Science Lectures. By various Authors.
(George BeU & Sons.)

Psychology. An Introductory Manual for the
Use of Students. By F. Ryland. (George
Bell & Sons.)

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMEN1\

[Jak. 15, 1898.

The Mathematical Psychology of Oratry and

Boole. By Mary E. Boole. (Swan Sonnen-

schein.)
Model Drawing. By William Mann. (Nelson.)
UlTDER the auspices of the Hvunanitarian
League and the Leigh Browne Trust, a series
of Humane Science Lectures were delivered
last winter, and are here reprinted. The maiii
object of the lectures seems to be to bring senti-
ment into the domain of science. Men of
science have feelings as well as others mortals ;
but just as art students leave their passions in
the ante-room with their hats and coats when
they are studying the nude, scientiiic investi-
gators are in the habit of lockiug up their
emotions in a cupboard when they are studying
the habits of Dame Nature. The Humanitarian
League would alter this strictly intellectual
mode of procedure, and make all vital phe-
nomena anthropomorphic.

As a means to its end the League might
usefully encourage the study of a course of
psychology, such as is provided in Mr. Ey laud's
manual, now in its seventh edition. The
phenomena of sensation, memory, conception,
emotion, and will are there presented in a
way which gives the reader clear and connected
ideas on the rr-lations between mind and
matter. That is more than can be said of
Mrs. Boole's Mathematical Psychology. A more
incoherent production it has rarely been our
lot to read. The mathematics are often shaky,
and the psychological conclusions are not above
reproach, while the whole is nebulous in
structure.

What Mr. Mann considers to be the true
principles of model drawing are set forth in bis
book. Under the system at present used, all
objects are represented by the draughtsman as
they would appear on a vertical plane. The
picture plane is thus always kept at right
angles to the ground, whereas Mr. Mann pleads
that objects should, in most cases, be represented
upon oblique planes. To the universal use of
the vertical plane he ascribes most of the
difficulties met by students of model drawing,
and all the distrust of the fundamental maxims.
The purpose of his book is to put the matter on
a more scientific basis.

ENGLISH.

First Book of Physical Geography. By Ralph S.
Tarr, B.S., P.G.S.A. (New York : The
MacmUlan Company ; London : MacmUlan
&Co.)

This is a valuable book, on a branch of science
in which Prof. Tarr is a recognised master.
He aimed, he tells us, at producing an
elementary work, siaited to introduce the
subject into high schools ; he has done that, and
a great deal more. If any large proportion of
school-books in the States be of this high
quality, we at home may weU envy them. But
if the usual way of teaching science be "to
assign certain pages to be memorised, and to
stop there " (p. ix.), we think our methods are
better. (Memorise means, we suppose, to learn
by rote.) The book is adorned and illustrated
by a profusion of excellent diagrams, maps of
large land or water areas, photographs of
celestial objects, meteoric appearances, and
remarkable terrestrial objects and landscapes.
Taking the high modem view of the subject of
the science, " the earth as the abode of man, in
aU its aspects," the writer gives first a most
interesting account of the generally accepted
modem theory of the stages by which our planet
reached its present condition, and the views
most prevalent of the constitution of the
universe. But he carefully refrains from
dogmatising, and dwells strongly on the
necessary limitations of human intellect in
regard to these problems of infinity. He then

deals, in their order, with the conditions of the
earth as a satellite of the sun, and its alterna-
tions of seasons, climates, day and night. Then
are considered the great elemental forces, in their
constant interaction — the atmosphere, with its
heat, electricity, and magnetism, influence on
temperature and climate, winds and stonns,
and plant and animal life. Next comes the
ocean, with its calm depths and ever-moving
surface, and its mighty influences for welfare
and destruction. Last of all come the
phenomena of the dry land, its stages of
formation, rocks, and soU ; the action of water
and fire upon it ; its prominent physical features,
and the marks it bears of the march of ages
past. This is but a brief summary of a few of
the most striking points in the book. It is
well written, and we can thoroughly recom-
mend it.

On the (Jhoice uf Oeo(/rapIi icul Books. By H. R.
Mill, D.Sc, F.R.S.E. (Longmans.)

All who have, like ourselves, suffered imder the
old system of teaching geography will welcome
from the pen of the learned secretsiry to the Royal
Geographical Society this clear and full guide
to the best literature of his science. He con-
ceives of it on the grandest scale — " the
description of the Earth in relation to Man, in
all the bearings of that relationship," and
points out that only those can fully know its
value who will, to some extent at least, study it
in all its branches. The first chapter, on the
" Principles of Geogi-aphy," is masterly, as a
statement both of the claims he makes for his
subject, and the interest that attaches to it.
Then come chapters on methods of teaching,
text-books, atlases, works of reference ; on
geography in special relation to physical
conditions, flora and fauna, and races of men ;
and lastly, what is to most of us the whole
subject — natural and political divisions of the
globe. Only a specialist could properly judge
of Dr. Mill's work, but its value will be tested
in actual use by teachers and students. An
index should have been added, for at present it
is not easy to say whether a particular book has
been registered. We should have liked to see
included Spencer St. John's delightful work on
Borneo, Palgrave's Central Arabia should be
named in the standard (2 vols.) edition, and we
miss Elisee Reclus's great work. Dr. Mill's
style sometimes halts : " advancement to high
civilisation" (p. 12), " plenty books " (p. 112),
"displacement of standpoint," and the like,
needlessly offend the eye.

Geography of Africa. By Edward Heawood,
M.A. '(MacmiUan & Co.)

For many reasons the Dark Continent claims
our very earnest attention ; yet we know almost
nothing of it save a little that concerns the
coast-lands and Egypt. Here it is treated
under every aspect. Physical features, climate,
ethnology, political relations are all in turn
presented in clear, precise language. An
excellent sketch-map introduces the book, and
it is completed by an exhaustive summary and
full index. We may note as worth particular
attention the pages dealing with the Races of
Men, French Activities, Tunis, Madagascar,
and the Dutch Republics.

XlX.-Century Prose. By J. H. Fowler, M.A.
(A. & C. Black.)

This new "Literary Epoch Series, " — to be com-
plete in six volumes — deserves praise for its aim,
but we fear the conditions laid down make
success difficult. English prose during the
century now closing is too vast, rich, and varied
in its excellence to be critically presented even
to a schoolboy in a large-type voliune of 120
pages only. We think, too, that an author is
' better represented by several short pieces than

by one long one. The choice here made does
not seem to us the best possible, either of
authors or of tj^iical extracts from their
writings. For the present purpose we should
have preferred " George Eliot " and " Elia " to
Coleridge and Thackeray ; and De Quincey's
prose should be illustrated rather from the
Opium-Eater — say, by the gorgeous dream.
From Macaulay we should choose part of the
Trial of Warren Hastings or of the Seven
Bishops ; from Carlyle, some pages of the French
Revolution ; and from Ruskin, flowers and gems
out of Sesame and Lilies. It is due to Mr.
Fowler to say that his criticism, though rather
formal, is painstaking and generally con'(x;t ;
but with some of the views in his Introduction
we cannot agfree.

XlX.-Centnry Verse. By A. C. McDonnell,
M.A. (A. & C. Black.)

Our remarks on Mr. Fowler's " Prose " apply
mutatis imdandis to this book also. And why
was the long criticism of Tennyson included,
since extracts could not be given from his
works ? Browning, more masculine and, to
our thinking, more truly representative of the
age, would have served the purpose equally
well. Here, again, we are not satisfied with the
work chosen as typical. Wordsworth's Laoitumia
is splendid, though some would prefer Itidlt or
the Intimations uf Immortality ; but surely some
of the sonnets, the noblest since Milton's, should
have been included — and Goody Jilake should
have been excluded by one who holds that " it
shows Wordsworth at his worst" (p. 16). Scott
wrote higher poetry, in Marrnion and The Lady
of the Lake, than the stirring tale of Deloraine't
Quest ; the latter part of the long extract from
Doit Juan is in Byron's worst vein ; and Shelley
would have been better shown in his Cluud and
Arethusa. From the views in the Introduction
we wholly dissent. England had not to leam
from the French Revolution that men are free
(p. 6) ; the years which preceded, which em-
braced the whole life of Bums and the poetic
life of Cowper, should not be describtnl as
" remarkable for their barrenness " (p. 2) ;
and we should be puzzled to find where
Tennyson " goes deeply into the spirit of
evolution " (p. 9).

Selections from Wordsworth. By W. T. Webb,
M.A. (MacmiUan & Co.)

We have here an excellent addition to an
excellent series, and another witness to that
revival of Wordsworth's fame which was
initiated by Palgrave and enhanced by Matthew
Arnold. The poems chosen are all worthy of
the poet, and show him at his best; but, of
course, every lover of Wordsworth will wish that
more had been included, especially of the
" Sonnets." We are glad to find, most
appropriately close to the " Ode to Duty," the
" Happy Warrior," than which there are few
nobler short poems in the language. Mr.
Webb's introduction is a carefid piece of
work, and shows insight into his author's
spirit. In particular, his comparison of Words-
worth's " Sonnet to the Skylark " with Shelley's
Ode is admirable, and it is well in these days to
be reminded, from the lives of Wordsworth and
of his great forerunner Milton, of the duty of
patriotism and the need of a lofty, unbending
love of freedom, combined with obedience to
moral law. We believe we could show good
cause against Mr. Webb's judgment on " She
was a phantom of delight," and we think
he has not said enough of the evenness of
Wordsworth's poetry, the absence of fire and
passion, qualities so marked in Byron. The
notes are full and instructive, almost too full.
and at times just a little prosy. In another
edition, which, we hope, may soon be called for,
Mr. Webb will no doubt correct (p. xix.)
" Common Law" to " Ciuil Law."

Jan. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS'

EDUCATIONAL LIST.

FOB SECOMiART SCHOOLS AND LEAVINO
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and Bell University Scholar. [/» a few days.

Higher Greek Unseens.

Selected, with Introductory Hints on Translation, by
H. W. AUDKN. llmmediately.

Lower German.

Reading and Supplementary Grammar, with Kxercises
and Material for Composition. By LOUIS LUBOVIUS.
[/« a few days,

Latin Verse Unseens.

By G. MIDDLETON, M.A., Lecturer in Latin, Aber-
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Cambridge ; Joint-Author of *' Student's Companion to
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Latin Historical Unseens.

For Army Classes. By L. C. VAUGHAN WILKES,
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Greek Verse Unseens.

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Latin Authors." Crown 8vo, Is. 6d. [Ready.

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By J. LOGIE ROBERTSON, M.A., Senior English
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Part I. Chaucer to Coleridge. Part II. Nineteenth

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London :
WALTER SCOTT, Limited, Paternoster S^iuar.

Jax. 15, 1898.]

Gnd- Vases: Historical and Descriptive. By
Susan Homer. (Swan Sonneuscheiu.)

Deeming that previous writers on the subject
jhaye been accustomed to dwell rather upon the
[artistic aspect and on the chronological styles
jof Greek vase-paintings to the neglect of their
epical qualities, Miss Suoan Homer has con-
ceived the novel idea of compiling an elemen-
tary handbook for the benefit of such as may
be " unacquainted with the Greek language,
jhistory, and legends." For them, indeed, her
(little treatise is not without its uses. It begins
|with a tabulated list showing in outline the
typicaJ forms of Greek vases, their several
jQames and purposes being clearly and suc-
binctly stated. There follows a descriptive
'-atalogue of some selected specimens from the
British Museum and the Loma-e collections, in
Vuir chapters, devoted one each to the four
leriods of Greek vases, from the earliest to the
)e8t, and ending with the latest period, that of
lecadence. The work concludes, in lady-like
j'ashion, with " an expurgated Lempriere " account
l)f the different divinities, herops, and other
|uythical beings depicted on Greek vases. How
Hgidlythis version is a.da.ytedvMp)iibiis}meH$qiie
juay be understood when it is" found that the
'lisiinctive feature of the Amazons is not so
■ ' -h as hinted at— they are defined merely as
race of warlike females " ; while of the
. yrs, whose questionable habits were quite
•roverbial, the authoress, with becoming
eticence, says "they were addicted to wine
nd led a life of wild pleasure."

Tarbutt's Plastic Method, and the Use of Plasti-
cine in the Arts of Writiwj, Dratvimj, and
Modelling in Educational Work. By Wm
Harbutt (Bath). With o(i lUustratious.'
(Chapman & Hall.)

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

a generation of scholars in the use of Plasticine,
if only half the tale be true, ought to be an
immense gain ; but, if all of it be true, then,
indeed Mr. Wm. Harbutt (Bath) will deserve
to rank among the greatest benefactors of
the age.

^'i^ Ti-ttinir,g of a Craftsman. -Written by
Fred. MiUer. Illustrated by Many Workers
in the Art Crafts. (J. S. Virtue & Co.)

HE existence of a general proclivity among
oung children to manipulate mud-pies and to
!ear tottering fortresses in wet sand is a fact
leyond dispute ; but such that the significance
jf it has not hitherto been properly appreciated.

1 or unto whom has it ever been given, until
\°\ *° .discern in these phenomena the forecast
|t the gifts of sculpture or architectural con-
jtructiveness ? But that this is the case Mr
:Vm. Harbutt (Bath) bears testimony. Hence-
prth, therefore, let arbitrary " O^j-mpians "
ike warning that in repressing the natural
ent of infant genius they incur the gravest
asponsibility. How many potential Pheidiases,
'raxitaleses, Abbe Suger», and Williams of
kykeham the shortsighted tyranny of parents
nd pedagogues has rendered inoperative, to
le consequent irrevocable loss of the human
ice, 18 awful to contemplate ; the number
;mst far exceed that of the silently inglorious
liltons, even reckoning all those of a minor
legree .' On the other hand, we may reflect

2 the numbers of Pearsons guiltless of tamper-
iig «ith so many Peterborough fa.;ades, and be
lianktul for that we have escaped. Mr. Wm.
i.^rbutt (Bath) is no meie theorist; he
ladently has the courage of his convictions,
etemuned that for the future means shall
Jtlackof developing innate childish talents.
^^» Vjo^ded a modelling material named
|Plasticme," the virtues of which, by word
|id lUustration. he celebrates throughout some
wee score and a hundred pages. This new
)mposition is warranted not to lose its
ictabiUty, at the same time that it requires
|J wet cloths as does ordinary clay. The
l-aKitical advantages of using it are many
•Id varied; they range from the acquisition
_ ttie accomplishment of reading and writing
;ithout tears, to the fashioning of shoe-lasts
) much does the author of Plastinine nWi-n

^T^^^^' j^ ^'^ *'® 1"^^" willing to aUow that
Mr. Ired. Miller is a practitioner of no mean
abihty m several different departments of art
industry it is clear that the literary gift is not
to be reckoned among them ; unless, indeed, we
may assume that his book on The Training of
a Craftsman had to be put together in so great
a hurry that the writer was prevented from
domg proper justice to his powerS. The
impression, indeed, that one receives from it
IS that of an iU-digested work, diffuse, and
full of repetitions, as though cuttings from
various papers upon similar subjects had been
hastily patched together, without method and
without revision. The most valuable part of the
book consists in the extracts, introduced now
and again, from certain recognised authorities on
the several crafts. The result, however, becomes
not a little confusing when their testimony
agrees not together,asinthe caseof Bookbinding.
Thus, whereas Mr. Cobden-Sanderson (whose
last name, by the way, is persistently mis-spelt)
holds that with just a "few tools endless
combmations are possible," and "that the fewer
the tools used in book-cover decoration the
better," Mr. MacColl is represented as ridicul-
ing the practice as "acrobatic." "There is
s..mething amusing," he says, " in the attempt
to obtain numerous combinations out of an
arbitrarily limited set of forms." These two
mutually destructive opinions are quoted by
Mr. Miller with apparently equal approbation.
There is, no doubt, much to be said for Mr.
MaoColl's contention, that the wheel tool need
not be confined exclusively to the ruling of
straight lines ; yet the illustrations intended to
establish the point are distinctly unconvincing.
On the contrary, the vagaries of the wheel seem
to be as wild and irrational as those of
" Planchette," and go to prove, if anything,
that the tool in question is apt to mn away
with the hand that employs it, unless it be kept
under most rigorous control. For the rest, the
book is plentifully illustrated, though a large
number of the blocks are only resuscitations of
those that have already appeared in the Art
Journal.

mucli does the author of Plasticine claim
r ms invention, that it sounds worthy of
iioption, at least as an experiment, in technical
lid other schools. The residt of training up

The Building of the Intellect. By Douglas
M. Gane. (Elliot Stock.)

This "contribution towards scientific method
in education " is rather bewUdeiing. The
author has given us a wealth of quotations from
men of all ages and degrees of authority, but
his own doctrine is, so far as we can gather it,
neither rigorously deduced nor plainly stated!
It is impossible, we hold, to educate a child as if
he were an Athenian of the Periclean age, and
the product, morally, was not of the best. Nor
does it help us much to have a little bit of
embryology introduced. We regret that we
cannot speak more favourably of what is
evidently an honest attempt to grapple with a
problem of the highest importance.

Selections from Sir Thomas Malory's Morte
d' Arthur. By W. E. Mead, Ph.D. (Leipsig)
(Boston, U.S.A. : Ginn & Co.)

This volume is introduced most appro-
priately to the English market by Mr.
Jfutt, who has himself done so much for our
early classics. It adds to the already large
body of good work that has been done by our
American brethren in many departments of

English literature, particularly in its origins
for the publications of which Messrs. Ginn are
so woU known. It is very pleasant to have a
scholarly rexjroduction of about one-fourth of
Malory's noble romance finely printed, carefully
edited after Caxton's original, and equipped
with aleamed (and not too long) introduction,
copious notes, a vocabularj^ of obsolete and
unusual woi-ds, and full indexes. Mr. Mead
treats his romance as a monument of literature,
not as a philological exercise-groimd ; and he
examines its origin, its worth as literature, and
its influence on later authors — especially the
poets of our own age — Tennyson, Morris
Swinburne, and Spenser. The portions se-
lected are those of most interest to modem
readers, and in the notes the connecting links
of the whole stoiy are given.

A History of Rome for Beginners. By Eveh-n

S. Shuckburgh. (Macmillan & Co.)
The author gives in a single small volume
a good outline of the gi-owth and develop-
laent of Eome, from its small and obscure
beginnmg to the culmination of its glory
under the first Augustus. The story of nearly
eight hundred years is told with admirable
brevity and due sense of proportion. The
steps by which the city first consoUdated
its own local power, then gradually extended
Its sway over Italy, grappled -with, and at last
crushed, the great maritime power of Carthage ;
and, finally, under Lucullus, Sulla, Pompey,'
Csesar, Antony, and Augustus, subdued all the
countnes east and west, north and south,
around the groat central sea, are clearly traced.
Nor are the awful stories of the civil wars for-
gotten, those recurring storms of savage
violence that raged with only short lulls from
Marius to the victorj- of Actium, and swamped
the Republic in waves of blood. But the best
and most instractive part of the book is that in
which Mr. Shuckburgh traces Rome's internal
development, the march of freedom among the
citizens, the progi-ess of law and abolition of
privileges, and the gradual perfecting of that
tremendous engine of conquest— the Roman
army. Several chronological and other tables,
illustrations, and maps, enhance the value of'
the book.

England Under the Later Hanoverians, 1760—
1837. By A. J. Evans, M.A., and C. S.
Fearonside, M.A. (CHve.)

This text-book of English historj- is a good
piece of work—brief without obscmity, clear
and impartial, giving with fulness enough
for all ordinary readers the storj' of a veiy
involved and momentous period in the annals
of our countiy. The style is pleasant and
generally con-oct, and the constant references
to and comparisons with the most recent
events lend vividness and interest to the
naiTative. Designed first of all as a text-book
for students for London University degrees, the
necessities of the case have forced the authors
to_ publish this, the second part of vol. iv.
(I'l-l — 1837), before the first, which is a dis-
advantage ; but the constant references to the
unpublished chapters show that they must be
nearly, if not quite, ready for the press, and we
hope, therefore, soon to see the historical chain
completed. The book is illustrated by some
clear maps and plans— especially that showing
the partitions of Poland (p. 236)— and by full
chi-onological and other tables; and a feature
most praiseworthy is the array of authorities
quoted, thus refeiring the reader to the best
sources for further study. One or two small
defects we notice. Why say that Charles II.
"lay low" instead of "dissembled" (p. 11)?
■\VTiat is "clerical Presbyterianism " (p. 16) P.
Is Ireland a "colony" of England (p. 17) ■•
and " given out " is not good English for
"exhausted" (p. 326).

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

[Jan. 15, I89iv,.

Xiiiii Lear. Edited by A. W. Verity, M.A.
(Cambridge: University Press.)

Mr. Verity has here given us a model edition
of the tragedy which Hallam ranked with
" Othello " and " Macbeth " as Shakespeare's
supreme work. Introduction, notes, glossary,
and index — all are good. Nothing that bears
on his subject-matter seems to have escaped the
editor, and — which is even more rare — his wise
self-restraint has imported nothing alien into
his work. What we like best in the introduc-
tion is the analysis of the chief characters in
Jthe play, the careful way in which the meaning
and development of the plot are traced, and
the criticism on the play's tragic ending. The
glossary is full and painstaking. Unfamiliar
words and phrases in any way strange are
carefully registered and explained, with ety-
mology sufficient for schoolboys, and that
•etymology ^always accurate ; and the frequent
grammatical notes are excellent. In a word,
this edition seems to us to contain in short
compass all that it should — and nothing
•else. Cambridge has done noble work for
Shakespeare's text and for the extension of his
fame, and the book before us is a substantial
gain. Mr. Verity's style is clear, simple, and
elegant : few better books coidd be chosen for
•class use.

Milton's Paradise Lost. Book II. Edited by

F. Gorse, M.A. (Blackie & Son).
We have here a careful and instructive
■edition. Intended for less advanced pupils than
Mr. Verity's, it is less elaborate. The intro-
duction is a good bit of work, containing an
interesting sketch of Milton's life, illustrated
from the " Sonnets," and by a suggestive table
of great contemporary events. The theme of the
poem is then analysed, and its cosmogony and
metre explamed. The text is well printed,
divided into sections with explanatoiy headings.

The Talisman ("Sir Walter Scott" Continuous
Readers). By W. Melven, M.A. (A. & C
Black.)

What Constable did as pioneer of cheap good
books m 1825, when The Talisman was first
published, Messrs. Black are now doing over
again m a form better suited to the needs of
the present day. It was the first of Scott's
novels which we ourselves read, and ranks with
Kenilworth and Ivanhoe, we think, as the best
■ of them all for boys who are not Scotch. Mr.
Melven has done the work of abridgment well
preserving the main story in the author's
words, and his introduction is scholarly and
interesting. "^

The Tllustrated Teacher's Bible. (Eyre & Spottis-
woode.)

This new and revised edition of Messrs. Eyre &
Spottiswoode's Teacher's Bible wiU be found
admirable f>,r private and class study. Nearly
sff. ,J°}T'' *' occupied by " Aids to the
mudent. These are arranged in twenty-four
chapters, and consist of short, but fairly exhaus-
cfl *^?, * ""^ Biblical subjects. The history
-of the Bible, as a whole, is written by the Kev.
H. B. Swete, D.D. Such lesser subjects as the
plMits of the Bible, the animal creation in the
Bible, weights and measures of the Bible, and
Biblical chronology, are also the subjects of
special treatment. Room is found for a concord-
ance containmg over 40,000 references. Not the
least important part of the work is the lone
series of plates, placed together at the end of
the volmne. In these the attempt has been
made "to outhne the entire field of BibKcal
archiBology and to stimulate the growing taste
for a knowledge of the results of modefn dis-
covery m Babylonia, Egypt, and Assyria."
Ihere are also numerous photographic repro-
ductions of ancient writings and monumente.

THE PITT PRESS SERIES.
We have received a batch of new publica-
tions belonging to this series which we can
commend to the attention of schoolmasters.
In Greek we have 'the Medea of Euripides,
edited by Mr. Clinton E. S. Headlam, who
has based his interpretations on those of
Wecklein, Lenting, Verrall, Paley, and others,
and has followed Prinz in his method of
designating the MSS. tradition. Mr. E. S.
Shuckburgh edits those of the Lives of Nepos
which were not included in the three volumes
of Nepos's texts, published by him pre-
viously. Ample notes and vocabularies are
added, as in the other volumes. Cassar's De
Bello CiaUieii, Book II., is also edited by Mr.
Shuckburgh on the same lines as the Nepos,
but with the additions of a map and a few
useful illustrations.

In Modem Languages we have The Fairy
Tales of Master Perrault. It has not been the
object of the editor, Mr. Walter Rippmann, to
furnish a critical text, but "one that will be
suitable for children who would like to enter
the garden of French literature, hand-iu-hand
with their old friend Cinderella and little Red
Biding Hood." For older students the Pitt
series now offers La Fortune de d'Artagnan,
edited by Mr. Arthur R. Ropes, and Beini
et ses Amis, edited by Margaret De G. Verrall.
The firot is an episode from Dumas' Le VicMmte
de Brngelonne. Mr, Ropes sums up Dumas,
the man and the writer, in a pithy intro-
duction, not sparing tj point out his fre-
quent historical inaccuracies as distinct
from allowable anachronisms. He remarks
that while " Dumas wept when he had to kill
Porthos, it would seem as if he had to depute
the death of d' Artagnan to one of his assistants."
Miss VerraU's book is an abridgment of Hector
Malot's Sans Famille, a work which was
crowned by the Academic Fran(;aise in 1878.
Miss Verrall details the story sufficiently to
make her abridgment of it clear, and to whet
the appetite. Notes and a vocabulary are duly
added. For German students two new reading
books are Lessing's Minna von Barnhelm,
edited in a very thorough and scholarly manner
by Mr. H. J. Wolstenholme. Mr. Walter
Rippmann, whoM Perraulfs Fairy Tales is
noticed above, has also prepared Eight Stories
from Andersen for the yoimgest learners of the
German language. Grammatical points are left
for the teacher to clear up, but notes and a
vocabiilary are supplied.

Turning now to the Pitt Press English
Readers we have A Selection of Tales from
Shakespeare, by Charles and Mary Lamb. This
volume is edited by Mr. J. H. Flather as a
useful book for study or practice in reading,
and as a pleasant introduction to Shakespeare
himself. It was a happy idea to prepare an
edition of that curious work Earle's Micro-
Cosmoyraphie ; or, a Plea of the World Charac-
terised for school use. Not only does it, as
the editor, Mr. Alfred S. West, says, "abound
in allusions to features of English social life
at the beginning of the seventeenth century,"
but it is packed with pithy observations,
such as one is glad to think may sink into
young minds. Here are a few of Earle's quaint
remarks picked at random from various charac-
ter sketches :

"A Child. — The elder he growes, hee is a staire
lower from God.

"A Me EKE FoiiMALL Man — He apprehends a
jest by seeing men smile, and laughs orderly him-
selfe when it comes to his turne.

"A Medling Man.— He will take you aside, and
question you of your affaire, and listen with both
eares, and looke earnestly : and then it is notliinc
so much yours as Lis." °

Such observations are a profitable study in
that school which we only quit when we quit
life.

FRENCH.

Quand felais Petit. Par L. Biart. Editc<l bv
J. Boielle, B.A. Part II. (Cambridge-
University Press).

This doHghtfiU reading-book gives us the story,
told by himself in later years, of that eventful
twelvemonth in the life of a little Versaillais,
when— in his eleventh year— his parents are
compelled to migrate to Paris. The writer
follows admirably, in clear, simple, idioiuatic
language, the workings of a child's mind, more
mature, however, than would be that of an
English boy of the same age. The scene is laid
in 1838, "sixty years since," when Louis
Philippe was king; and chap. ii. contains
an interesting picture of a bygone Paris, with
its mingling of magnificence and squalid filth,
where the public vehicles, Ifalles, pillory, rag-
pickers, &c., pass in strange panorama before
the little rustic's eyes. School life, with its
ambitions, literary and other ; boyish friend-
ships, and first introduction to polite society,
as "Jack among the maids" at a girl's birthday-
party (chap, iv.) are charmingly told. The
chief gem of the book, however, is the father's
lesson to his son on the dignity of work, a
pendant to Mr. Caxton's famous lesson to
Pisistratus on the broken flower-pot; while
another is the death of Leontine, with which
the boy's transition-year closes. The book is
admirably got up, and the notes are usually
clear and good, especially on points of granniiar.
But there are slips, both in Notes and Vocabu-
lary. Samir-faire, sauvai/e in jiartibus, a(iir a
Ve'tourdie (all on p. 3) should be explained;
avant-ijoU (74), p„iiit de rephe (benchmark),
faille's, and other words are not in the Vocabu-
lary; and griuchus (73) is in Littr^ and in
Uatzfeldt, grineheux. Surely witty Scapin is not
a mere "buffoon"; a will-o'-the-wisp that
" dogs one's footsteps " would be highly
comical, and the note on the Buddha (p. 1 1.j) i-
nonsense that shotdd not have come from w
countryman of Burnouf.

A Complete Course of French Composition (inn

Idioms. By Hector Rey. (Blackie & Son.)
M. Rey's title challenges criticism, for he is a
bold man who undertakes, in a single post
octavo of 214 pages, to give a romplete course oi
French composition and idioms. Apart, how-
ever, from a little exaggeration in the claim,
the book is a thoroughly good one ; the idiontj
are abundant, careftilly chosen, and wet
rendered into good English, and the pieces set
for composition are varied on an ascending
scale of difficidty, and each made the subject o^
real, thorough study. The pupil who goes
honestly through M. Rey's book with a gooc
teacher, and (what the author rightly insist*
on) carefid and exact reading of the hesi;
French, classical and modem, will not oftei
find himself at faidt, either before an examine)
or even in French society. The table o
comparative idioms, with which the hool
opens, might well be learnt by heart, and at al
events deserves very close study. (It is a slip
of course, to render se couper le doiijt by cut one'
finger; it means cut off one's finger, the othe'
being . . . au doigt, p. 15.) The arrange
ment by which the use of the preliminar;
exercises is to be postponed till after later one
have been mastered does not seem very good
Would it not have been simpler to put them ii
the order in which they were to be taken ? Th
phrase "translate in accorrlante with Frenr,
grammar," sometimes used and more oftei
omitted, suggests a paradox. " On the spot'
(p. 134) is generally " stcr-le-champ." '^'
don't recognise "scribble-book" as correc
English, and boys should not be encouraged t
write of being " mixed-up " (p. 156). How
ever, these are but small defects in a ver
useful book, which we heartily recommend.

jAlf. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

' Histoire de la Langue et rje la LittSrature
Franfaise des Origines a 1900. Par L. Petit
I de JuUeville. Tome IV. (1600-1660). (Paris :
I Armand Colin et Cie.)

|"VVe cannot in our limits do justice to this
I valuable section of a valuable work. We can
I only mark one or two outstanding features, and
'strongly advise our readers to get the book.
I The fii-st half of M. de JuUevUle's great
i task is now ended, and the final volume, dealing
I with contemporary writers, is, most fittingly, to
j appear during the course of the proposed great
Exhibition of 1900. Like the earlier volumes,
ithis also is made up of chapters on the literary
'history of the period, each Ijy a specialist in his
[subject, with a concluding section on the state
land progress of the language. The sixty years
■oi which it treats, splendid with the names
,of Comeille, Descartes, and Pascal, and boasting
many a gi'eat writer besides, were as an overture
to the full orchestral music of France's
(Augustan Age. The language, regularised,
pruned, and chastened from the somewhat rank
luxuriance that followed on the Eenaissance,
[became that polished instrument of precise
;thought which is the pride of every Frenchman.
iMalherbe as an individual, and as a body the
,Acatle'mie, child of Richelieu's genius, contri-
|buted mainly to this result — they by precept,
land the three great men of genius already
[uamed by then- practice.

The sections which will probably prove of

luiost interest to English readers are that on

Ithe Academic and the three which treat of the

jiise and progress of the drama to its culmina-

ition in Comeille. The former is by the editor,

livho also deals with the poets of the age —

Malherbe, Eacan, Eegnier, &c. ; his chapter on

whom is admirable and most informing criticism.

A.S one reads how a little social club, formed

n 1629, took root, and grew up into the literary

Senate of France, one is driven to wonder

whether Johnson's Club, founded a century

ater in circumstances not unlike, could have

I'eudered analogous service to our language and

literature, if (say) Chatham had thought as

Richelieu did. The story of the Academie, its

|:onstitution and development, and the worthy

jpirit in which from the first it understood its

iluties, is deeply interesting ; yet there is to us,

jis well as to Frenchmen, something veiy comical

a its formal condemnatory pronouncement on

Ihe Cid, which Comeille contemptuously left to

ts mercy. The chapter is further adorned with

I he portrait of Chapelain, one of the founders,

I nd the shield bearing the names of the first

lorty " Immortals." Mention of the Cid

jiaturaUy introduces the drama. The story of

|ts first stage is told with learning, critical skill,

ind minuteness by M. Eigal, who shows how it

Iprang from the Mysteries and Moralities of the

lliddle Ages. The earliest playwright was

jdexander Hardy, whose first plays, crude and

[lartistic, but Uving productions, were put on

ihe stage about 1610, just as Shakespeare was

'losing his wonderful literary career. It is

[urious to see how long and chequered was the

|ght to establish the " Unities," and how com-

lete was the victory, till Victor Hugo arose

Imost in our own day. Everyone will remem-

er with what skiU Voltaire defended them —

lad also how he justified his choice in Bajazet

|f a contemporaiy plot, whereas Hardy had

Iramatised both the execution of Mary Queen

|E Scots and the murder of Henri IV. The

^st of the book is quite as valuable as what

e have noticed. Full and impartial justice

done to the great leaders of thought and

lasters of style who were the glory of France

1 the first half of the seventeenth century.

'omprt-hensive French Ma mud. By Otto C.
Xaf, M.A. (BlacHe & Son.)

s the author frankly states, this is a book
signed to help the examination candidate to

defeat the subtle attacks of the crafty examiner,
and for its purpose it will be found very
serviceable. That is to say, it should be used
after, and supplementary to, a thorough
grounding in grammar and a pretty extensive
course of reading and easy composition. The
plan adopted is that of a varied selection of fifty
passages of standard French prose, each of
which is made the subject of thorough study
—through grammatical notes, vocabularies,
imitation composition, and retranslation.
Then foUow some representative pieces of poetry,
and then a few passages of English prose for
translation into French, equipped with useful
vocabvJaries. In the appendices will be found
very brief outlines of French political and
literary history, grammatical notes, commercial
language, examination papers, and some notes
on etymology, with a useful list of military
terms. The two last are excellent, especially
the former — a piece of thoroughly good work.
"We have examined the book with gi'eat care, as
it deserves, and will add that its usefulness
would be much increased by making the
index fuller : the grammatical matter is so
scattered as to require this. A few things we
should like changed. If Sinbad the Sailor was
to open the ball, he should have appeared as
dear old Galland dressed him, and not mas-
querade as from De Fivast ; and the prose
extracts should have been aiTanged in chrono-
logical order. We do not think that "neuter"
should be used in the grammar of modem
French, with the one possible exception of ce ;
and Mr. Naf really should not talk of " female
persons," grammar being concerned with gender
not sex. It is improper to write Fendlon, and
rash to speak of Telemaqrie as " his only gi-eat
work." But the book as it stands is useful and
practical, and could easily be made even more
so.

A New Orammatical French Course, By Albert
Barrfere. Vol. I. (Parts 1 and 2); Vol. II.
(Part 3). (Whittaker & Co.)

M. Barreee is an experienced teacher, and his
position and titles mark him out as a distin-
guished man. We have before us two small
volumes, forming the elementary and inter-
mediate parts of his French coui-se, and we are
compelled to say that we expected from him
something better. There are already in the
field so many good French grammars and
exercise books that a new one must have very
high qualities to justify its appearance. Those
qualities we do not find here. The work is
good, accurate as a whole, and eminently
simple and easily progressive. But some
of the rules are stated too absolutely —
as, for instance, that on the position of
adjectives ; the difiicult question of the plural
of compound nouns is not treated' at sufficient
length, and the crucial case of compounds of
garde is not mentioned. Similarly, the agree-
ment of the past participle and the use of the
subjunctive are too summarily dismissed. The
foregoing remarks apply to the second volume
(intermediate). In regard to the elementary
section, it is divided into two parts, in the first
of which the pupU is taught to use words and
phrases without any rules at all, these coming
only in the second part. We confess to doubting
whether this is a plan likely to be successful.
On the other hand, we like the arrangement by
which the rules are placed (as here) on one page
and the examples on the opposite. The pronouns
and possessive adjectives, and the verbs
especially, are fully and clearly treated, and this
is a great advantage to pupils. One oversight
we must correct. M. Barrere says twice (pp.
40 and 42, vol. i.) that " adjectives agree with
the pronoun subject" — byinference, therefore not
with the pronoim object. Would he not say —
"Je la veux noire" ("I want it black), the
pronoun standing for eucre or the like ?

THE CLASSICS.

GREEK.
Sophocles. The Text of the Seven Playg.
Edited, with Introduction, by E. C. Jebb.
(Cambridge : University Press.)

Prof. Jebb's Sophocles wiU be welcomed by
many as supplying a real want. Fifty years
ago well- printed texts of the Greek dramatists
appear to have been fairly common; but of
late the would-be reader has had to take his
choice between some mean little text, usually
German, and a larger volume, usually Euglish,
consisting for the most part of notes. Even
Prof. Jebb's own editions of the plays of
Sophocles, though their excellence is proverbial,
will seem to some lovers of the poet almost a
less boon than this simple text. We only wish
the fragments had been included. There is a
short introduction dealing with the MSS.. Ac,
and at the bottom of each page are printed the
varies lectiones. Are we mistaken, or can it
be really true that neither the Oxford nor the
Cambridge press is quite as accurate in matters
of printing as was once the case ? At any rate,
at the very outset we come across an irritating
blunder for which the printers are alone respon-
sible {(Edipua Hex, 1. 46 ) :

T3\ & $pOTuv &piiTT*, ^v6p0w<fiv iro\(i'.

The Works of Xenophon. Translated by H. G.

Dakyns, M.A., late Assistant Master, Clifton

College. (Macmillan & Co.)
This so-called third volume, which is really
two volumes, serves as a welcome reminder
to the critic that the compilation of school
books and popular manuals is not the be-
all and end-all of scholarship. What Jowett
did for Thuoydides and Plato, Mr. Dakyns is
doing for Xenophon. He follows the late
Master of Balliol, as he says in his preface, tion
passihus cequis : but he would be a bold man
indeed who attempted to do more, and it is a
pleasure to catch even an echo of the old
familiar accents. But in this book we have no
mere echo : every page that Mr. Dakyns writes
testifies to his own sterling scholarship and to
his intimate acquaintance with the subjects of
which he treats. The first volume (published
in 1890) contained the Hellenica. Books I. and
II., together with the AnahaMs; the second
(1892) included the Hellenica, Books III. to VII.,
the Agesilaus. the Polity of the Athenians, the
Polity of the Lacedeemoniana, and the Ways and
Means. Part I. of the present " volume "
embraces the Memorabilia, the Apology, the
Economist, the Symposium, and the Hiero :
Part II. is devoted to the treatises "On the
Duties of the Cavalry General," " On Horse-
manship," and " On Hunting." The Cyropcvdia
is reserved for the fourth volume, " which will,"
Mr. Dakyns hopes (and all English scholars
must share the hope), " see the light of day
before the century has ended." Sauppe's text
is followed, but with discrimination. The
translations are furnished with ample intro-
ductions, in which the arguments are analysed
in detail, and the various questions connected
with the several treatises are carefully discussed.

The remarks on ancient and modern cavalry
in the introduction to " The Duties of a Cavalry
General " are especially interesting. The most
seasonable treatise, however, is that entitled
" On Hunting : a Sportsman's Manual," which
has a direct bearing on current controversies.
We almost wonder that Mr. Dakyns did not
leave untranslated such sentences as these, sen-
tences that will make some recent writers on
Public School Athletics shudder : " Among the
many pleasures to which youth is prone, this
one alone (hunting) is productive of the greatest
blessings. ... Of such stuif are good
soldiers and good generals made." "Some

THE ACADEMY: EDUCATIONAL SUPPLEMENT.

[Jas. 15. 1N98,

people tell us it is not right to indulge a taste
for hunting, lest it lead to neglect of home con-
cerns, not knowing that those who are bene-
factors of their country and their friends are in
proportion all the more devoted to domestic
duties. If lovers of the chase pre-eminently fit
themselves to be useful to the fatherland, that
is as much as to say they will not squander
their private means ; since with the state itself
the domestic fortunes of each are saved or lost.
The real fact is, these men are saviours not of
their ovm fortunes only, but of the private
fortunes of the rest, of yours and mine. Yet
there are not a few irrational people omong
these cavillers, who, out of jealousy, would
rather perish, thanks to their own baseness, than
owe their lives to the virtue of their neigh-
bours." " These are the youths who will prove
a blessing to their parents, and not to their
parents only, but to the whole state ;^ to every
citizen ahke and individual friend. Nay, what
has sex to do with it ? It is not only men en-
amoured of the chase that have become heroes,
but among women there are also to whom our
Lady Artemis has granted a like boon —
Atalanta, and Prooris, and many another hunt-
ress fair." Xenophou, thou should'st be living
at this hour !

The Troades of Euripides. Edited by E. Y.

Tyrrell. (Macmillan & Co.)
This is avowedly an edition for the use of
schoolboys. Schoolboys are extremely fortu-
nate in commanding the services of such a
commentator as Prof. Tyrrell, whom the sad
removal of Prof. Palmer now leaves almost at
the head of that brilliant galaxy of Dublin
scholaiship which happily, despite that loss,
still shows no signs of fading lustre — "imo
avulso, non deficit alter." The conjecture

(1. 1188) SOirrai Tf KAli-ai (MSS. vrrui t' ^itf ifoi)

IS particularly ingenious. In line 700, how-
ever, why assume that the optative aorists
«aToiK(ir«io>' and 7«Voito are attracted (from the
aorist subjunctive) ? Even were the possibility
of such a construction granted, would it not be
far more natural to take the two words in
question as "pure " optatives of wish ? Trans-
lations, by the editor and others, into English
poetry of many of the most striking passages
are embodied in the notes.

An Historical Greek Grammar, Uliiefly of the
Attic Dialed, as Written and Spoken from
Classical Antiquity Dotvn to the Present Time:
Founded upon the Ancient Texts, Inscriptions,
Papyri, and Present Popular Greek. By A. N.
Jannaris. (Macmillan & Co.).

This work, a volume of 737 large pages, the
labour of five years, is well indexed, and is
evidently full of matter, but it is hardly, we fear,
suited to the English reader. A quotation from
p. xi. of the preface will illustrate our meaning :
" To enumerate here all the new features of the
work, or seek to justify them as well as some
novel terms {e.f/., phonopathy, metaphony, tri-
syllabotany, tonoclisis, synenclisis, antectasis,
revection, secondary subjunctive for optative,
&c.) introduced for the sake of precision or
convenience, would lead to an unduly long
excursus and serve no practical purpose."
The book is far too long and cumbrous. All
the classical paradigms ought to be omitted,
and an intelligible nomenclature should be
adopted. Such remarks as (§99(5, with reference
to the future of irln«) " irtoyiai (imprt. irifli) " are
an ofi'ence against the traditions of two
thousand years of scholarship. It is impossible
to treat both ancient and modem Greek with
any fulness in one and the same book ; they
are as unlike as, say, Tbermopyla; and Domoko.

Pylos and Sphakteria, from Thucudides, Book
IV. (Eivingtons), edited by Mr. W. H. D.
Bouse, contains a simplified Greek text, with
notes, a geographical introduction, and eight

pieces of English prose for translation (or one
mio-ht almost say "retranslation") into Greek.
The book is intended for fifth-form use,but might
perhaps be read with advantage a form lower.
The note on § 1, 2 is a little misleading. The
article is surely only omitted when the Persian
kino- is spoken of in his represtntative and
public capacity. Thus, in the sentence " Persia
declared war against Greece," " Persia" would
be BmriAeiii : but " the Persian king is at
dinner " would be b BairiAtuj Sa-nvf!. The Eng-
lish distinction between "the Queen" and
"the Crown " is somewhat parallel.

The Anabasis of Xenophon, Book III. (Cam-
bridge : UnivH'sity Press), edited, in the Pitt
Presj series, by Mr. G. M. Edwards, is fur-
nished with an excellent introduction, useful
notes, and a good vocabularj'. The remarks on
(i yivqaiiifBa (§ 1, 13) need revision. Surely the
commonplace of the class-room is quite cor-
rect— viz., that the future indicative (or in oratio
obliqua, after past tenses, the future optative) is
used with «;, instead of the subjunctive with 4dy,
when the speaker regards the hypothesis as
(1) highly improbable, or (2) highly distasteful.

Mr. C. C. Tancock's Story of the Ionic Revolt
and Persian War as told by Herodotus (Murray)
consists of "selections from the translation of
Canon Eawlinson, revised and adapted to the
purposes of the present work." It was a happy
inspiration of Mr. Tancock's to undertake this
task of selection and revision, and the thanks of
many readers will be due to him,

Mr. W. B. Donne's Euripides (Blackwood it-
Sons) , in the series of "Ancient Classics for
English Readers," under the general editorship
of the Eev. W. L. Collins, consists of a brightly
written survey of the life and times of Euripides,
together with a very sensible account and
appreciation of his plays. The author, how-
ever, for one presumably acquainted with the
Greek language, seems strangelj' unfamiliar
with the Greek text of his poet. On p. 6
he refers to Athens as " the new centre of
Hellas," and then adds: "'Hellas,' although
a word unknown in the time of Euripides, and,
indeed, of a much later date, is used here and
elsewhere in these pages as a convenient and
comprehensive term for Greece. . . ." " A
word unknown in the time of Euripides, and —
indeed, of much later date " .' ! ! What of
Pindar's 'zwiim ^pfit^a, xMival •AJS»oi ? What
of Euripides' o^vn frequent use of the word—
e.g., Hecuba, 330 ; Helen, 882 ; and the first line of
the famous fragment of the Autolycus ?

Mr. W. C. P. Walter's Hints and Helps in
Continuous Greek Prose (Blackie & Son) will, in
the hands of a good master, be useful for fifth-
form work. The idioms in the appendix are
well chosen ; but a considerable portion of the
information given will be superfluous in the
case of boys properly grounded in their Greek
exercises in the lower forms.

GEEEK AND LATIN.

Mr. G. B. Green's Notes on Greek and Latin
Syntax (Methuen & Co.) is written in the hope
that it " may prove useful in the higher forms
of schools, and to candidates for university and
public examinations." The examples of con-
structions, which fill twenty-three pages out of
197, are excellently chofsn, and the student
who is set to answer a "critical paper" will
find them of value. In the syntax proper Mr.
Green has essayed a difficidt task. It is im-
possible to treat the subject of Latin and Greek
conditional sentences satisfactorily in twelve
pages, or to deal with the Oratio Obliqua (in
both languages) in nine. But the attempt has
not been altogether a failure. Perhaps it would
be almost better in such a book to sacrifice
theoretical completeness by taking for granted
a knowledge of the elements of syntax.

LATIN.

Mr. F. W. Hall's The Fourth Verrine of |
Cicero (Macmillan & Co.) is the model of a '
good school edition. Che introduction is
carefid, adequate, and interesting. The text,
where doubtful, has been chosen with sotmd
judgment. The notes are always useful and
sometimes brilliant. At the end of the book
are to be found an areha-ological appeudix, a
short discussion of the chronology of the trial
of Verres, and a very complete index. The
edition is altogether one that may be confi-
dently recommended for sixth-form use.

Mr. H. W. Auden'g Cicero Pro Plancio
(Macmillan & Co.) is also a good school book,
but less careful than Mr. Hall's. For instance,
in the note on § 59, 22, Mr. Auden writes :
" Nusquam erant 'never really existed,' but
were mythological " (of Agamemnon and
MenelausI). This note overlooks the word
jam in the text (" Quse t-cripsit gravis et
ingeniosus poeta, non ut illos regios pueros,
qui jam nusquam erant, sed ut nos et nostros
liberos ad laborem et ad laudem excitaret.")
The true translation is obviously : "who had
already passed from the earth."

Macmillan's Elementary Latin-English Dic-
tionary (Micmillan & Co.) is handy and
serviceable. If, however, the schoolboy
attempts to use it for the purpose of verse-
making he will find that, as is the case with
many oth<-r recently-printed books, its value
is impaired by a serious typographical defect —
viz., that at a little distance from the eye the
mark over a short syllable is hardly to be
distingtushed from the mark over a long
syllable. From practical experience, we would
suggest that both marks ought to be made
much larger and more distinct.

Mr. S. E. Winbolt's Exercises in Latin
Accidence (Methuen & Co.) are "intended to le*d
up to Latin Syntax by Mr. Botting." The book
is well adapted for use in Preparatory Schools.
It follows the lines of the Latin Primer.

Mr. J. A. Stevens's Junior Latin Synt'ir
(Blackie & Son), a little volume of 56 pages, is
meritoriously compiled, but it is difficiilt to see
of what use it will be to the boy who possesses
an ordinary grammar and an ordinary exercise-
book.

First Latin Exercises (Longmans), by the Eev.
J. Went, who appears from the title-page to he
headmaster of two schools at the same time (a
little joke, we suppose, of the Charity Com-
missioners), are " avowedly designed to lead
young boys, as rapidly as possible, by means of
very simple exercises, to some easy reading
book." "In ordinary Grammar Schools only
a limited amount of time can be given to
Latin ..." "It is hoped that the exercises
may prove useful to a considerable number of
boys who enter Grammar Schools at the age of
thirteen or fourteen, and who wish to obtain
some knowledge of Latin in a comparatively
short time. These boys necessarily cause a
certain amount of difiiculty in a class. They
are usually quite up to the averaee of their age
in other subjects, but being beginners in lan-
guages they have a difficulty in maintaining in
the class the position which properly belongs
to them." These extracts dannent <i penser.
But, granted the object in view, the book is
well conceived and well executed.

Passages from Latin Authors for Translation
into English (MacmUlan & Bowes), by Mr. E.
S. Shuckburgh, have been " selected with s
view to the needs of candidates for the Cam-
bridge Previous, L^cal and Schools Examina-
tions." Parts II. and III. have been familiar for
years to schoolmaster and examinee : Part 1. 1-'
new, and contains forty-two somewhat easiei
• pieces.

Jan. 15, 1898.]

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SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

Important notice.-"arundel society's publications."

ArraHgements have been made with the " .Arundel
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eligious subjects. These Works of Art can now be
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THIRD EDITION. REVISED AND ENLARGED.

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HISTORICAL CHURCH ATLAS. Illustrating

the History of Eastern and Western Christendom until the Reformation, and

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GERTRUDE B. RA.WLINGS. With lOS Illusiratioas
from Coins iQ the British Museum.

PREVIOUS VOLUMES.

THE STORY of GERil LIFE— Bacteria. By
H. W. CONN. With 34 Illustrations.

THE STORY of the EARTH'S ATMOSPHERE.
By DOUGLAS ARCHIBALD, M.A. With 41 Illustra-
tions.

THE STORY of the WE-iTHER. By G. F.
CHAMBERS, F.R.A.S. With 47 DIustrations.

THE STORY of FOREST aud STREAM. By
JAMES RODWAY, E'.L.S. With 27 Illustrations.

THE STORY of the CHEMICAL ELEilENTS.

By M. M. PATTISON-MUIR, M.A.

THE STORY of EXTINCT CIVILISATIONS of

THE EAST. By E. B. ANDERSON, M.A., P.A.8.
With Maps.

THE STORY of ELECTRICITY. By J. Muniw.

With 100 Illustrations.

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CHAMBERS, F.B.A.S. With 28 Illustrations.
THE STORY of the EARTH in PAST AGES.

By Prof. H. G. SEKLEY. With 40 Illustrations.
THE STORY of the PLANTS. By Guant

ALLEN. With 49 Illustrations.
THE STORY of PRIMITIVE MAN. By Edward

CLODD. With S8 Illustrations.
THE STORY ot the STARS. By G. F. Chambers,

p. R.A.S. With 24 Illustrations.

THE STORY of LIFE in the SEAS. By

SYDNEY J. HCCK80N. F.R.8., Professor of Zoology
in the Owens College, Manchester. With 42 IIIustr».
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To be followed by other volames, of wbicu due notice will
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Loitsox: GB0B3E NEWNES, Lto., Southampton
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[Jak. 15, 1898,

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SATURDAY, JANUARY 15, 1898.
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NOTES AND NEWS.

IN connexion with the awards which w
have made, it might he useful to say
'or the benefit of readers wlio liave not yet
een Mr. Henley's essay on Burns, that the
publishers, Messrs. Jack, of Edinburgh, have
list issued it in a shilling edition. In its
)riginal form it is to be found at the end of
he four-volume edition of Bums — The
''entenanj Burns — edited by Mr. Henley
nd Mr. T. F. Henderson, a work which, we
night remark, is not easily to be met with.
I'he request for it one day this week at
ihree of the leading London bookshops
tielded no result whatever ; and at Mudie's
I he edition, quite naturally, has not been
i)ut into circulation at all.

Ireland, an admirable collection of mateiial,
a monument of seLf-sacrificing and dis-
interested energy, and a permanently valu-
able contribution to knowledge. May I
urge, however, that you should not limit
your field of selection so rigidly. The fund
which the Academy proposes to establish
is practically the only one in the countrj'
available for the encouragement of works
which do not make a direct appeal to the
average book-buying public. I would
jjlace the claims of the following works
upon j'our consideration : Prof. Ker's Epic
and Romance, an achievement of constructive
critical scholarship ; Dr. Jevon's Introduction
to the Science of Religion ; Mr. Crooke's
North- West Provinces of India ; Miss Gamett's
Greek Folk-Poesy ; and Dr. Sigerson's Bards
of the Gael and Gall. These two last works
have the merit of interpreting to the English
reader two alien and highly interesting
bodies of romantic literature."

In addition to the replies to our request
or the names of books suitable for
' coronation," which were printed last
veek, we have received others. Among
hese is one from Prof. Dowden, running as
oUows :

" I have read too few books of 1S9T to be
.bio to express an opinion of their comparative
Inerits. But I think some of the most beautiful
j)lank verse wiitten in recent years is to be
joimd in Mr. Stephen Phillips's Poems, published
it the close of the year, though dated 1898."

'rof. Dowden should be gratified to learn
)ur decision in this matter.

Sir DotTGiiAS Straight, the editor of the
Pall Mall Gazette, selects The Nigger of the
" Narcissus," by Mr. Joseph Conrad, and
Miss Kingsley's Travels in West Africa.

Mr. Andrew Lang is a bold man. He
has compiled ('tis true a little late) an
English Academy, AND HE HAS IN-
CLUDED THE NAME OE ME 8WIN-
BUENE. So much has been said about
our humble attempt to "play the old
Academy game" that we feel we are
entitled to ask just one question of Mr.
Lang — who might the Macchailean Mohr
be ? Here is Mr. Lang's forty, as printed
in Longman's Magazine. They are not his
personal choice, " but the forty who would,
perhaps, have a good chance on the French
principle " :

Mr. Gladstone.
Dean Farrar.
The Bishop of Eipon.
The Bishop of London,
The Bishop of Chester.
Mr. Euskiji.
Lord Acton.
Prof. Masson.
Prof. Butcher.
Prof. Bryce.
Prof. Jebb.
Prof. Mahaffy.
Prof. Com-thope.
Lord Eayleigh.
Sir W. Crookes.
Lord Kelvin.
Sir Eobert BaU.
Mr. Eobert Bridges.
Mr. S. E. Gardiner.
Mr. E. B. Tylor.

"There is not a

The Macchailean Mohr.
Mr. James Knowles.
Mr. Herbert Sjiencer.
Sir Henry Irving.
Mr. George Meredith.
Mr. Leslie Stephen.
Dr. J. A. H. Murray.
Mr. Binning Monro.
Mr. Francis Galton.
Dr. Fau-baim.
Mr. Alfred Austin.
Mr. Swinburne.
Mr. Lecky.
Mr. Thomas Hardy.
Mr. Morley.
Mr. Max MuUer.
Sir George Trevelyan
Mr. A. J. Balfour.
Prof. Sidgwick.
Mr. Frederic Han-ison.

emancipated novelists. Mr. Henley solicit-
ing the vote and interest of a bishop would
be an example of unappreciated greatness,

and it would be pleasing to see Mr. 's-

call on Mr. Swinburne."

Mr. Lang's doubts, implied above, concem-
ing Mr. Max Miiller's friendliness to himself'
wiU perhaps bo set at rest by learning that
that gentleman's forthcoming book of remin-
iscences is to be entitled Auld Lang Syne.
The volume so named will, we fear, run
risks of enjoying a KaUyard reputation.

I Mr. Alfred NuTT writes : "If choice is
b be rigidly limited to two works, one of
iwhich is to receive 100 guineas and the other
1)0, I think the first prize shoidd go to the
edition of Bums by Mr. Henley and Mr.
[Henderson, the first adequate edition of the
poet from the standpoint of literature, and
')ne which really does reflect honour upon
)ur national scholarship. The second I
would award to Mr. Borlase's Dolmens of

P.S. — Following this section of Mr. Lang's-
Longman's gossip on Academy - making,
is a paragraph concerning ghosts, which,
of course, we did not read, and then a para-
graph about ants, which we also were dis-
regarding until the last sentence caught the-
eye. Alas ! it compels us to withdraw the-
compliment to Mr. Lang on his boldness.
For it says : " This reminds me that Sir
John Lubbock was left out of my Academy.
I therefore scratch Mr. Swinburne, who
does not love such laurels."

Mr. William Nicholson's Almanack of
Twelve Sports is being issued in a French
edition, with a preface by M. Octave-
Uzanne, the most entertaining dilettante
now writing. It is amusing to find the
panegyrist of the fan and other boudoir
trifles standing as the apologist of pictures
celebrating le cricket and le box. Mr.
Kipling's verses, we suppose, have not
been translated.

a literary gent, among
them, unless Mr. Stephen and Mr. Harrison
may accept the title," is Mr. Lang's com-
ment on his list. What sort of " gents.,"
we wonder, are Mr. Meredith and Mr.
Hardy ?

Mr. Lang continues: "Imagine the
pleasure of going canvassing ! I think of
presenting myself, for instance, before Lord
Kelvin — or Mr. Max Miiller — or a bishop,
unless he were an old friend of unregenerate
days. Long-haired poets would get little
encouragement out of Mr. Herbert Spencer,
and the clergy would soon dispose of your

American critics are becoming un-
pleasantly accusative. Two charges of
plagiarism against English authors have
just crossed the Atlantic. One paper
attacks Sir Edwin Arnold ; another accuses
Mr. Anstey for having in his Baboo Jabberjee
" stolen or obviously paraphrased many ex-
pressions from the celebrated Memoir of
Onocool Chtmdee Mookerjee, the classic in
Baboo-English, and from a pamphlet by the
Honourable T. Hart-Davies on the Ilbert
Bill ; both extremely humorous, but of a
sort of humour of whic^ a little goes a long
way." This is a serious charge to base light-
heartedly upon a necessary similarity of
diction. No living writer has less occasion
than Mr. Anstey to borrow the work of
others. Eeviewers ought to be very careful
how thej' employ so dangerous and damning
a word as plagiarism.

Messrs. Hutchinson & Co. write that
they are surprised to find in this month's
Contemporary Review an article by Mr.
W. T. Stead based upon the Countess
of Warwick's forthcoming Life of Joseph
Arch, M.P., since the book is not really
published until to-day, the 15th. "We
think it," they add, "due to ourselves to
explain to you that not a single copy of the
book has yet been sent out by us, and that
the advance re\iew has not appeared under
any arrangement made by us." Certainly
an irregularity has been committed ; but we
cannot see that the publishers are much to
be pitied. No paper is likely to refuse to
notice the book because an advance copy

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 15, 1898.

has fallen, probably by way of tlie author,
into the hands of a Contemporary Reviewer.

FiKST, the Nelson celebration of 1896,
and the consequent interest in the navy,
and second, Mr. Kipling's Seven Seas,
and Mr. Newbolt's Admirals All, and Mr.
Rennell Eodd's Ballads of th Fleet, together
or separately, may be held responsible for
the naval poetry that we now see in so
many places. Even the American Chap-
Book prints a " Song of the Spanish Main "
of which these are stanzas :

■" Out in the south, when a twilight shroud
Hangs over the ocean's rim,
Sail on sail, like a floating cloud,
Galleon, brigantine, cannon-browed,
Rich from the Indies, homeward crowd,
Singing a Spanish hymn.

There comes a song through the salt and
spray,
Blood-kin to the ocean's roar :

' All day long down Florez way

Richard Grenville stands at bay.

Come and take him if ye may ! '

Then hush, for evermore."

And even a Member of Parliament attunes
his mind to poesy, for in the Newcastle
Daily Chronicle is a nautical song by Mr.
WiUiam Allan, M.P., one stanza of which

■" The flag that cowed the roving Dane,
And shattered Gallia's might,
Tho' leagued with proud and haughty Spain,

Waves still in glory's light.
As in triumphant days of old.

Its laurels bright appear.
While from the hearts of seamen bold
This song salutes the ear :

The soldier may be lord on land.

And brave in battle be,
While Britain's sons man British guns
Jack shall be King at Sea !
Hurrah ! Hurrah ! "

The Chap-BooV s poetry is not, however,
entirely naval. We find in it also the follow-
ing elegiac gem, copied from a child's grave
in an Australian bush town :

" Oiu' Emily Frances was so fair
That the Angels envied Her,
And Whispered in her Ear

We will take you Away on

Tuesday night."

By the death of Mr. Stacy Marks we
lose a clever painter and a genial Bohemian
•of the old school. Mr. Marks was the
Royal Academy's jester ; no other painter
used pigments as humorously as he. If he
has a successor it is Mr. Dandy Sadler. Mr.
Marks was not a great artist, but he made
the quainter side of bird-life his own, and
worked there without a rival. His later
•colour studies of macaws and cockatoos,
parrots and adjutants, are more highly
prized by their owners than even his oil-
paintings will be. Mr. Marks turned
author a year or so ago, and produced the
necessary volume of reminiscences. It is
marked rather by good spirits than good
literary style. Socially Mr. Stacy Marks
will be greatly missed.

Among the latest results of Mr. Glad-
stone's leisure is the invention of a screen
constructed to hold, like the cases in St.
Deiniol's library, " the maximum of books
in the minimum of space." The screen is
easily movable. It is made of light wood,
enamelled white. The front consists of
shelves for four hundred books, the back is
covered with tapestry. On the top may be
placed ornaments. The Gladstone screen
should be put on the market.

A CORRESPONDENT writes : " It is a curious
fact, due, no doubt, to the limited knowledge
of Dutch in this country, that a remarkable
linguistic blunder in Mr. Bryce's valuable
Impressions of South Africa [which we
review this week elsewhere] has passed
undetected, although the book is now in a
second edition. On p. 509 the author says
the Boers' ' usual term (when they talk
among themselves) for an Englishman is
"rotten egg." The other common Boer
name for an Englishman is " red neck,"
drawn from tho fact that the back of an
Englishman's neck is often burnt red by the
sun. This does not happen to the Boer,
who always wears a broad-brimmed hat.'
Mr. Bryce has unconsciously done the Boors
an injustice. They never call an English-
man a ' rotten egg ' at aU. What they say
is roode nek, popularly rooic nek or rooinek —
i.e., ' red neck.' As the oo is the same as
our long 0 (as in old, door, yeoman, &c.), the
phrase, when pronounced quickly, sounds
to English ears not unlike ' rotten egg.'
This is, no doubt, what has given rise to the
misunderstanding which has imposed on so
careful a traveller as Mr. Bryce."

Mb. W. L. Alden is writing the London
literary letter for the ]\^ew York Times
Saturday literary supplement. Beginnings
are notoriously difficult, and therefore we
may justly expect better communications
than his first, which chronicles only the
proceedings of a school of inferior novelists
who are already too much written about.

The verses written by Mr. Bliss Carman
for the unveiling of the Robert Louis
Stevenson memorial at San Francisco ran
as follows :

" TiiE Word of the Water.
I.
God made me simple from the first,
And good to quench the body's thirst.
Think you He has no ministers
To glad that way-worn soul of yours ?

II.
Here by the thronging Golden Gate,
For thousands and for you I wait,
Seeing adventurers' sails unfurled
For the four corners of the world.

III.
Here passed one day, nor came again,
A prince among the tribes of men.
(For man like him is from his birth
A vagabond upon this earth.)

IV.
Be thankful, friend, as you pass on.
And pray for Louis Stevenson,
That by whatever trail he fare,
He be refreshed in God's great care."

The Canadian poet has here caught some of
Stevenson's own spirit.

It is announced that Lady Murray has
purchased, near Antibes, in the Riviera,,
a large house, which she proposes to convert
into a home of rest for authors and artists
in poor health and circumstances. The
home will be opened from February 1 next to
May 31, and henceforward from November 1
to May 31. Particulars may be obtained
of Lady Murray, Villa Victoria, Cannes.
Meanwhile the following rules are made
public by the JDaili/ Mail :

"1. That the health of the applicant is such|
as to make a winter in a mild climate necessary,
or at least advisable.

2. That he is unable to obtain this without
such assistance as he will find here.

3. That his medical advisers are able to givi
a fair hope that with the benefit of a wintei
abroad he will be able to return to his work.

4. That those admitted pay their journey out
and back, and £1 a week for board and lodging.
Personal washing, extra fires and lights, and
wine, will be charged extra. No dogs allowed."

Mr. John Morley will open the Passmort
Edwards Settlement on Saturday evening,
February 12. Lord Peel will take the
chair. Among the arrangements for the
spring term are a course of eight lectures
by Miss Jane Harrison, on Delphi. M
Homolle, Director of the French School ai
Athens, has kindly lent Miss Harrisoi
photograjihs of some of the recent dis
coveries, which will accompany her lectuit -
as lantern illustrations.

Mr. Le Galliexne, who is about to visi
America, will stay there at least a year, an(
he may reside permanently in New England

Messrs. Chapman & Haxl announce .
work by Mr. Alfred T. Story, entitle
The Building of the Empire, which purjiort
to be the story of England's gi-owth fron
Elizabeth to Victoria. The book will hav.
more than a hundred illustrations from i m
temporary prints.

Messrs. Methuen will publish iiiiiii
diately a work entitled The Niger Souri- -
by Colonel J. Z. Trotter. The work wil
contain a route map and illustrations.

We understand that Mr. Elliot Stool
will be the London publisher of the Nei
Birmingham Ruskin Society's magazine
Sai)it George.

The author of ^Liza of Lamleth, Mr. W^ i?
Maugham, has written a second novel of i
very different character, the principal even
of which is a revolution in an Italian towi
in the fifteenth century. This looks hki
versatility with a vengeance.

The date for the publication of th
biography of the Prince of Wales, whicl
Mr. Grant Richards has long had in pre
paration, is now definitely fixed for Monda
next.

The Queen has accepted a copy of Mrs
Craigie's romance Th« School for Saints.

Jan. 15, 1»98.]

THE ACADEMY.

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED.

IV.— MATTHEW AENOLD.

"TN a slight but interesting contribution
jj_ to Lord Tennyson's biography Mr.
pheodore Watts-Dunton draws a shai-p con-
Irast between two kinds of poetiy : one, which
lie calls popular, " appealing to the unculti-
j-ated masses" ; the other, artistic and appeal-
jag only to those "who are sensitive to the
Upression of deep thought and the true
■eauties of jioetic art." But in carrying
lut his argument he unwittingly shows that
la be " artistic " in his sense is to be limited,
jor the greatest poets appeal both to the
liany and the few. He instances Shake-
ipeare, who is "the most popular," and j'et
jranscends all others in beauty of expres-
ion. Homer, Dante, Moliere — all the
upreme poets might have been added,
jnong those who do not win attention from
11 sorts and conditions of men, but whose
oetiy commands a select and intelligent
udience, Mr. Watts-Dunton would pro-
ably number Keats, Shelley, Eossetti,
winbume, and Mr. Arnold. No one who
)ves what is beautiful and appreciates
ne expression can fail to be attracted to
lem, and yet they are not popular in the
mse in which Tennyson or Burns or Mr.
'udyard Kipling is popular.
To find the reason it seems to me we
ust dive a little deeper than Mr. Watts-
unton has done. Popularity or unpopu-
rity has nothing to do with the question,
he coarse, ill-equipped modem novelist,
Imning his "big human passions" as if
liey were "the greatest show on earth,"
bpeals to a huge multitude ; but so did
pott, Dickens, and George Eliot. It tells
pthing, therefore, to say that a writer is
iidely read. He may, as Tennyson did,
jitract all that is best in the several grades
' soeietj-, or he may only collect a crowd of
norant admirers from the under sections,
ut, on the other hand, that readers are
w is no guarantee that they are fit. In
lose days of cliques and schools it is
)t very difficult for a versifier of very
oderate attainments indeed to gain the
!ir of a small band of admirers, and be
j little Pope to them. Such a one is
imost certain to call himself "artistic,"
jid feel, or affect, a disdain of popular
|)provaI. Like Montaigne, he abhors "to
) preach to the first passer-by, to become
Iter to the ignorance of the first I meet."
et this air of superiority is not of itself
lent. Popularity or unpopularity tells
j)tlung about a poet.

I And still, although Mr. Watts-Dunton is
j>t happy in the choice of terms, he has
'idently been brooding over a very real
'stinction. There is a class of poets, at the
»ad of which stands Bums, whose interest
la wholly in the workaday world, whose
srongest note is a love of life, and who
vpeal almost wholly to pity and fun, tender-
^ss and passion. Another class, the
! eatest of whom is Milton, with less warmth
*d sympathy, have a deeper appreciation of
ie more august and remote beauty of life,

the sense of the sublime, the glory and music
of words. They do not make a very strong
appeal to those simple elementary instincts
that Bums grouped compendiously into one
expression, ' the hairt,' but speak to the
pesthetic, the cultivated sense. It was to
the order of Milton that Matthew Arnold
belonged.

To make this apparent it is only neces-
sary to take a fine verse from him and
compare it with a typical one from Bums.
The familiar " Dover Beach " gives us
exactly what we want, a stanza representing
Arnold's art at its highest, and also express-
ing his mental attitude :

" The sea of faith
Was once, too, at the full, and roimd earth's

shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle fiirl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long withdrawing roar,
Retreating to the breath

Of the night- wind down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world."

It needs no saying that the part of man
which responds to this is very different from
that which gives back an echo to ' ' Ae fond
kiss," or "Had we never loved so kindly,"
or "My luve is like a red, red rose." A
thousand hearts will leap at a cry of per-
sonal regret or passion for one imagination
that will be stirred by this large sadness and
the sustained and dignified metaphor by
which it is expressed.

I am not instituting a comparison between
the two j)oets in point of greatness, but only
trying to make clear the difference of
temperament, a difference that sufficiently
explains why Arnold failed to appreciate
Bums truly. The next point is that a mind
of the very highest rank embraces both.
One finds it even in those passages which
embody the impassioned dejection to which
the greatest poets are subject —

" Tears from the depth of some divine despair."

In the Odyssey and the Purgatorio, in the
Booh ofJoh, and Macbeth a despondency more
profound than Ai-nold's is over and over
again expressed. But the difference between
a Homer or a Shakespeare, even a Tenny-
son, and those minor "artistic" poets who
have not succeeded in becoming popular, is
that the former connects the facts of life
directly with its mysteries, while the latter
appeal to a secondary sentiment. The
ordinary wayfaring man has no difficulty in
grasping what Shakespeare meant when he
makes Macbeth exclaim :

"... Out, out, brief candle !
Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage.
And then is heard no more."
But no one can fully appreciate the fine
lines quoted from Arnold without under-
standing the religious doubts and contro-
versies of the period in which they
were written. And this brings us to
the great weakness of him and his kind.
Dealing as they do with themes and senti-
ments lying apart from daily experience,
and appealing to those emotions which are
not like love and grief, elemental, but are
fostered into an artificial shape by reading
and cultivation, they are ever tempted to
refine and refine, to assume more and more

of special preparation in the audience, to
widen the distance between art and ordinary
life, till in the end they find themselves
separated from all but a small selection of
their fellows. That this was so with Mr.
Arnold does not admit of doubt. He had
not that tremendous will and self-confidence
that kept Tennyson steadfast to his purpose
in face of many early discouragements.
For twenty years before his death he had
practically ceased to write poetry. Either
he was not sure of himself, or not sure that
great art is bound to conquer in the end —
bound to conquer even the Philistine.

Yet in one sense he has won the battle.
The much maligned British public is really
not so bad as it is called. Its worst fault
is a kind of easily imposed upon good nature,
which is apt to deify humbugs and char-
latans on their first appearance, and to
neglect all merit that is not pushing and
clamant ; but this worship is never of long
duration ; sooner or later the grain is
winnowed from the chaff. Merit will always
have a few honest admirers, and these
steadily increase as time goes on, while
mere empty pretentiousness, whatever its
momentary vogue, is pricked and tossed
aside ; and Matthew Arnold's poetry has
quietly and surely emerged from the neglect
of those early years, and is probably esteemed
more to-day than it was in the author's
lifetime. It is seen now that he filled an
important place in his generation, that he
expressed as no other has done the wide
imaginative asjiect of the flux and change
of the period in which he lived ; and if he
had dared to be a little bolder, and to think
less of what Goethe or Milton would have said,
and more of his own impressions, his place
would have been higher still. However,
the slim volume of selections from him
published by MacmiUan is a book the lover
of nineteenth-century poetry would not com-
posedly lose. If we except " Balder Dead,"
it omits very little of his essential work.

It is curious that while the neglected
verse is emerging from obscurity, his prose
which attracted so much attention when
published appears to be losing ground. Yet
it must always command at least an historical
interest, as marking a stage in the evolution
of style. There are four writers of the
century who dealt with kindred topics and
who represent as many sides of life. In the
first place came Macaulay with a manner of
his own, indeed, yet no now voice. Eather
the last of the old voices — brilliant, well-
informed and full, dwelling mainly on
the superficial and external, not aware of
those deeper currents of thought that were
to characterise the time that was coming.
He has wielded an influence out of all
proportion to his strength, mainly because
his prose was at once extremely striking
imitated. But, as a
said, his thought all
Dutch dykes." Next
flooding these narrow
sea of new ideas,
but rugged of language and careless of
form, making a complete alteration in the
point of view, yet influencing mere style to a
very small extent, because his language
was so peculiarly his own, so mannered,
and so flushed with personality, that it was

and very easily
recent critic has
ran in "orderly
we have Carlyle
channels with a

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 15, 1898.

simply impossible for anyone else to adopt
it without producing the most grotesque
effect. At Hs heel followed Euskin, loving
grace and music and beauty, and rendering
them with a kind of sweet formality and
ceremoniousness : a taste for purity of words
and classic models — a descendant, in short,
of De Quincey. Finally, we arrive at
Matthew Arnold, and his perception that
something still was lacking. Of the three
styles aUuded to, it may be said that all of
them lacked flexibility. The very archi-
tecture of Macaulay's work excluded it.
His rounded sentence and antithetic con-
struction are fatal to the play of light and
shade ; they are not meant for laughter
and tears, and all that lies between.
Carlyle's harsher periods, though not un-
fitted to the display of a grim humour,
are as much lacking in suppleness as
Macaulay's ; and Mr. Euskin, especially
in his first period, was too earnest and
stately to express a variety of moods.
Matthew Arnold was able to do what the
others had not done. His verse is almost
painfully melancholy, but his natural
buoyancy and playfulness, his archness and
vivacity, were exquisitely displayed in his
prose. He coiild, as none of his contem-
poraries did, pursue an argument stead-
fastly and yet with all the liveliness of
spirit and laughing resources of a particu-
larly keen and weU-furnished mind. To
find his equal in this respect we must either
go to France or our own excellent prosemen
of the eighteenth centurj', to Addison and
Fielding. And he has wielded an influence
scarcely second to Macaulay's. The best
features in the prose of to-day, its aim at
clearness, its intolerance of the formal and
pompous and obscure, are very largely due
to him.

But if this be so, it may well be asked, is
it not inconsistent to say that he is going
out of favour ? Well, if an honest answer
be returned to that it must be personal. No
one can really reply for his fellow men.
He can only say : "I read Matthew Arnold
once with pleasure and delight, he taught
me much for which I am grateful, but
whether it is that he can be sucked dry, or
that a change has come over the spirit of
things, very languidly now do I return to
him." The reply will no doubt appear un-
satisfactory to those who still find an in-
spiration in his pages, and yet it is capable
of defence. Mr. Arnold answered to a need
of his generation, the century is vastly better
for his having lived and spoken, but that may
be so, and yet his influence may have ceased
to be direct. And his was not one of those
supremely rich and full natures at which
one can, so to speak, cut and come again, as
you return, for instance, to Charles Lamb
or Sir Thomas Browne. That he was
true to one of his doctrines, that he was
lucid, is to say all ; he ofliers no second
banquet. In thinking of his prose I often
contrast it with that of another poet,
Heinrich Heine. Arnold apprehended the
qualities, the finest qualities, of French
prose, its clearness, logic, and -vivacity, and
reproduced them with success. So did the
other, but to French lucidity Heine added
German dreaminess and poetry. Language
in his hands is as supple and changeable.

but it exhibited a larger variety of moods,
passing with the easiest grace from fun and
satire to a deep pathos or a glowing fancy.
To be a master of prose one must have
not only a right theory and a full command
of material, but a richly endowed mind.

And, finally, the part Arnold played in his
chosen rdle of critic was bound to be tempo-
ary. The method of his time, as is the
case in all periods of original work, was to
refer direct to nature. " Is this life as I
know it?" was substantially the question
by which the claims of art had to stand or
f aU. Carlyle knew no other test ; Euskin
delighted in applying it. But Arnold's
function was to insist on the value of tradi-
tion and the classical models. His own
judgment was perpetually guided by the
principle laid down in a famous passage
beginning :

" Thei-e can be no more useful help for dis-
covering what poetry belongs to the class of the
truly excellent, and can therefore do us most
good, than to have always in one's mind lines
and expressions of the great masters, and to
apply them as a touchstone to other i^oetrj'."

A most excellent device for expelling the
banal and pretentious from current literature,
but one that may lead the judgment far
astray in regard to any new and original
work, which is as likely as not to go, or
appear to go, in the teeth of old models ! No,
the true touchstone is supplied by those
exquisite moments in which poems have been
"lived but left unsung," and if you substitute
for them the memories of those ,of other
people as expressed in verse, then you are
deliberately breaking contact with nature.

It was worth while reviving this view of
criticism, however, because it brings Arnold's
prose into harmony with his verse, and shows
the weakness of one to spring from the
same cause as that of the other. Yet,
although it would be against the spirit ol
his own teaching not to look frankly at his
limitations, let us not forget his merits as a
great educative influence, a teacher of clear
thinking and precise statement, a singer
whose imagination was entranced by the
great spiritual change that in his day swept
over "the naked shingles of the world."

A FOEGOTTEN NOVEL BY JAMES
ANTHONY FEOUDE.

When " Zeta " first published his little I
volume of three hundred . pages, called
Shadows of the Clouds, the world of 1847
was duly impressed, both with the general
ability which the book displayed and the
force and vigour with which it preached
some rather heterodox doctrines. When it
leaked out, as it soon did, that Zeta was
none other than James Anthony Froude,
Fellow of Exeter College in Oxford, brother
of Hurrell Froude of Oriel, the zealous
High Churchman, public interest waxed
gi'eater. It waxed, perhaps, greatest of all
when not long afterwards its author bought
up all the copies he could lay his hands on
and destroyed them. The suppression seems
to have been singularly thorough and suc-
cessful, for the book is now almost unknown.

It never figures in the catalogues of second-
hand booksellers, and is very rarely to be'
seen even in private libraries. The British
Museum, of course, has a copy, for there,
if anywhere, is the proverb proved true,
Litera scripta manet. An author may buy
up or call in his book, but the Museum will
never restore what has once fallen into its
clutches.

The reason generally assigned for Froude'e
suppression of the book, is that it was
too autobiographical, or at least appeared
to the outer world to be so. The relationi
of the hero with his father were thought tc
reflect somewhat closely the quarrel between
Froude's father and himself, and there
are other possibly accidental resemblances
between the careers of hero and authoi
which might lend colour to the idea
that the book was, in fact, though not
in form, an autobiography. Another pos-
sible motive for withdrawing Shadowi
of the Clouds is supposed to be found
in the hero's heretical views on certain
points. The heresy, viewed by the standard;
of to-daj', is of a mild character ; but ortho-
doxy readily took offence in the Fifties
Indeed, the story runs that when Froude';
next book. The Nemesis of Faith, appearec
Sewell, Fellow of Exeter and ardent Higl
Churchman, who afterwards founded Eadle}
School, solemnly burnt it in the middle o:
the Quadrangle ! Public feeling ran higl
in those days on matters of faith an(
religion in Oxford, and it is quite likely
that the orthodox Churchman of that timt
would have found much to reprobate ii
Shadows of the Clouds. But if this hac
been the reason for its withdrawal, woul(
Froude so very shortly afterwards havi
published (not anonymously, but under hi;
own name) the far more heterodox Netimi
of Faith ? A curious story about Froude'
election to the Exeter Fellowship used ti
be told in Oxford in the Fifties. Hurrel
Froude, the High Churchman, was, o
course. Fellow of Oriel, and the Provost o
Oriel, Hawkins, a man of small capacity
and little wisdom, hated the High Churcl
Party cordially. When J. A. Froude trie(
for the Oriel Fellowship he was not elected
When he subsequently tried at Exeter, oi
the other hand — apronouncedly High Churcl
college in those days- he was elected, asrepor
said, under the misapprehension that he hai
been rejected by Oriel as a High Church
man and friend of Newman ! If there i
any truth in this old story it is not difficul
to understand the rage of the Exete
Common Eoom and men like Sewell whe:
Froude proceeded to publish heterodox, o
Latitudinarian, works.

Shadows of the Clouds, or at least th
longer of the two stories it contains, is an ex
tremely interesting book to read, even a
this time of day, and as an example o
the "psychological novel" was considerabl.
in advance of its day. It may be admitte'
that it is at times "heavy" reading. I
has scarcely any plot, no "incident," ver
little "action," and next to no dialogue
This gives it a certain monotony inseparabl
from that kind of fiction. But that muc
of it is tremendously impressive cannot b
denied. Briefly, it is a character-study c
an unhappy boy, Edward Fowler, tn

Fan. 15, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

a of a hard, gloomy Church dignitary,
■ly deprived of a mother's care, and
iTOundod by utterly uncongenial brothers
I sisters, who, after a miserable existence
home and at school, pulls himself together
\ a great effort of wiU, and at length
I'elops into something of a man, only to

I of consumption before his efforts have

I I time to bear fruit in any noteworthy
jiievement. The interest of the storj' is
(olly in the character of the boy, in the
intal phases through which he passes,
i|l in tlie picture which is incidentally
■ en of the ideas and the manners of
.iO-40. In technique, of course, and as a
iro example of how to tell a story, the
x)k fails. Froude was not a great novelist
mque, but merely a man of deej) insight
p character and wide sympathy with
inan fi-ailtj-, who has left behind him one
mremely interesting study of a human
^1. Artistically, indeed, the book comes
li.r to being an actual failure. The events
li not follow one another in satisfactor}-

er and sequence, there is a shade too
ch of the author in the book, and too
le of the characters :

N'ever dares the man put ofP the Prophet."

4 Froude is perpetually at his reader's
il iw, jogging him lest he should miss any
Mat or fail to draw from it its legitimate
KJclusion. But with aU these disadvan-

aa?s Shadows of the Clouds remains to
4 day a book that well repays reading.
itjontains many vivid pictures of the life
; the great major'ity of respectable God-
•ing English people lived in the second
[ijrter of tlie nineteenth century. There
BjEor example, a terrible picture of life at
djEnglish public school (Westminster) in
bjie days ; but of much more real and per-
alient interest than these are the often
iilound and original views on life which
hiauthor puts forward in the course of his
ative. Here, for example, is a singularly
utterance on the subject of education :

[ take it to be a matter of the most certain
rience in deaHug with boys of au amiable
a disposition, thatexactly the treatment they
Ti' from you they \vill desei-vo. In a general
|E it is true of all persons of unformed character
d come in contact with you as your inferiors ;
It High with men it cannot be relied on with
B( iame certainty, because their feelings are
»i)Owcrful, and their habit of moving this way
rjiat under particidar circumstances more
eiminat*^ But with the very large class of
©3 of a yielding nature who have veiy little
lij:oufidence, are very little governed by a
Wmined will or judgment, but sway up and
*V under the impulses of the moment, if they
rercated generously and tiiistiugly, it may
e jkon as au axiom that their feelings will be
»%s stroug enough to make them ashamed
lOBo deserve it."

^re is the father's view of his unfortu-
lalson : —

to the character of the entii'O boy, his
'hsposition, health of tone in heart and
ill that was presmned. It made no
it school exhibitions, and, at least
. assumed no fonn of positive import-
regarded after-life. So this was all
itself. Of course, if a boy knew half
1 by heart at ten and had construed the
y througli at eleven, all other excellences

were a matter of course. . . . He was naturally
timid, and shrunk from all the amusements and
games of other boys. So much the better, ho
would keep to his books."

The boy goes to Westminster and is placed
on the Foundation, " where for one year,
at least, to all boys, and to some for every
year, the life was as hard, and the treat-
ment as barbarous as that of the negroes in
Virginia."

The lad's character at school is thus
summarised :

" The defect in Edward's nature, as I under-
stand it, was that he was constitutionally a
cowai-d. Constitutionally, I say. It was not
his own fault. Kature had ordered him so just
as she orders others constitutionally brave.
One may like these the best, but one must be
cautious how one praises them for what they
have eai'ncd by no merit of their own. Courage
of this kind — animal courage — is a gift, not an
accomplishment. . . . Neither animal courage
nor animal cowardice result from any principle,
they are merely passions ... so different from
moral courage and moral cowardice that they
seem to me to have nothing in common except
the name. . . . What Fowler had not was
animal courage, ho was subject to the passion
of timidity, in the same way as other boys are
subject to the passions of anger, jealousy,
cruelty, or gross appetites ; and it ought to
have been understood that he was falling be-
fore a constitutional weakness instead of being
supposed that he had a formed, settled character
of meanness and cowardice."

After this powerfully subtle analysis of
the boy's character the rest of the story
follows on the whole with logical necessity.
He is removed from Westminster, and after
a miserable year or two at home, sent to a
private tutor, where he is happ}- enough,
and afterwards to Oxford, where he is
generally popular. It seems questionable
whether a youth who had passed through
such a boyhoo.d would have thus blossomed
out into the jjossession of attractive social
qualities ; but probably had the story been
worked out with greater care, this would
have been accounted for. As it is, both in
style and in construction the book is often
slipshod. While at Oxford he falls in love
and into debt. He is engaged for a brief
space, and the engagement is broken off on
the debts being made known. He takes to
dissipation to drown care, and is rusticated
from Oxford. From this stage begins the
work of his redemption, and by sheer force
of will and hard work he ultimately blossoms
out into a decent member of society. The
girl to whom he had been engaged marries
someone else in a rather fantastic manner,
though her love for Fowler remains un-
changed. Fowler pulls her son out of the
water at Torquay, which gives an oppor-
tunity for reconciliation and mutual ex-
planations, and finally he dies in a highly
unorthodox frame of mind. This in itself
must have fluttered the dovecotes of 1847
somewhat, though the author exerts con-
siderable ingenuity to make it appear that
he is himself quite as much shocked as his
readers at the heretical views of his hero.
Indeed, this attitude is kept up, throughout
the book. Altogether, Shadows of the Clouds
is a noteworthy book, and is worth reissu-
ing, if only as a literary curiosity.

A GEEMAN MARE'S NEST.

The problem of Shakespeare's Sonnets is
yet imsolved. The literary arena is dusty
with the onsets of rival j ousters, champions
of Pembroke, champions of Southampton.
The publication of Mr. Sidney Lee's Die-
tionanj of Natmml Biography article, and of
Lady Newdegate-Newdigate's Gossip from a
2Iuniment Room, have aroused the controversy
in an acute form. Mr. William Archer has
flung himself into the fray with a magazine
article. Nor are the lists yet closed. Herr
Georg Brandos has yet to run his course ;
Mr. George WjTidham has to run his.
To the impartial observer it would seem
as if this were the one question on
which no scholar could be trusted to
keep his head or to refrain from the
delightful but illegitimate sport of mare's-
nesting. The spoils of a chase recently
undertaken have come into our hands.
Herr Gregor Sarrazin is a student of no
mean repute, though with an imhappy
penchant for seeing the verbal parallel stand-
ing where it ought not. On Hamlet, on
Thomas Kyd, he has done good and sug-
gestive work. His contributions to the
speculative biography of Shakespeare arft
not to be despised. He has made the long-
rejected hypothesis of an early Italian journey
by the poet seem plausible. Nevertheless, in
his recent JFiUiam Shakespeare^ s Lehrjahrc,
he most undeniably puts his foot in it over
the Sonnets. With his general standpoint
on the matter we have no quarrel. Follow-
ing Hermann Isaac he reiterates the point,
which Mr. Tyler and his fellow upholders
of the Pembroke theory have yet to meet,
that the style and thought of the Sonnets,
or at least of the Dark Woman and Jealousy
Sonnets, are the style and thought of the
plays and poems written before 1595, and
not those of the plays written between 1598
and 1601. Herr Isaac holds the Friend of
the Sonnets to be the Earl of Essex. In this,
however, Herr Sarrazin does not follow
him, but is content with Drake and Gerald
Massey to believe that Southampton was
the person addressed. Incidentally, he
makes a very sensible observation for the
benefit of those who think that the whole
question does not signify a brass button.
"It is not," he says,

" a matter of indifference to our judgment of
Shakespeare's character whether these poems
were addressed ... to a weak-headed
sensualist like William Herbert, or to one
who, like Southampton, was, for all his faults
and acts of rashness, a chivalrous, brave, and
high-minded gentleman."

But we are not concerned with the general
question as between Southampton and Pem-
broke. Herr Sarrazin, in support of his
thesis, ventures upon the dangerous ground
of textual emendation. He is troubled by
the 143rd Sonnet, which runs as follows:

" So, as a careful house>vife runs to catch
One of her feather'd creatures broke away.
Sits down her babe, and makes all swift de-
spatch
In pursuit of the thing she would have stay ;.,
Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,'
Cries to catch her whoso busy care is bent
To follow that which Hies before her face, :
Not prizing her poor infant's discontent ;

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 15, 1898.

So runn'st thou after that which flies from

thee,
Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind ;
But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind :
So will I pray that thou mayst have thy

Will,
If thou turn back and my loud crying
stiU."

It has been held that there is a pun
in the last line but one, and, on the
face of it, as Pembroke's name was
William Herbert, while Southampton's
was Henry Wriothesley, this tells for
Pembroke. But what if this pun should
somehow have displaced another, an earlier
pun ? and if this earlier pun could be shown
to be somehow significant of Southampton ?
So should the righteous come to his own
again, and Pembroke, " the man of sin,"
be ousted. Can we reconstruct, divine the
original state of the text? What is the
root-metaphor of the sonnet ? What is all
this about the poultry-yard ? Aha ! Eureka !
Hoch ! Let Herr Sarrazin announce his
incomparable discovery in his own words :

" As in a palimpsest J! read the original text
of the closing lines, thus :

^So will I pray that thou mayst have thy
" Hen,"
If thou turn back, and my loud crying pen.'

For ' pen,' cf. Lucrece, 681 : ' He pens her
piteous clamours in her head ' ; and ' Hen ' is an
abbreviation of Henry, not, indeed, so common
as Harry or Hal, but still not altogether un-
usual. Henry Wriothesley was the name of
Shakespeare's friend, who would seem, also, to
have been his rival."

The reader will think, as we thought, that
the learned German, with that impassive
Teutonic humour of his, is joking with us.
But no ! you may search in vain for a sign
that he regards his suggestion in any other
light than that of the most serious com-
placency. Well, well! as the tragic poet
says,

iroX\&Tek Vcic^ KovBiy avBptitnov Seivirfpov irfXti.

But surely this is the biggest mare's-nest
upon which unhappy quester after the
problem of the " Sonnets " has ever lighted,
and contains the most stupendous wind-egg
-of them all.

is recognised by all that, exceijt for those book-
sellers who, in consequence of vast sales, are
able to buy in large quantities on special teruis,
bookselling, as now conducted, affords a ridicu-
lously insufficient net return for the capital and
energy which the calling demands. The legiti-
mate profits are, in fact, deliberately handed
over to the public, while the 'intelligent'
bookseller toils all the year round for the
benefit of his landlord, and for the getting of
a bare living profit for himself by the sale of
fancy articles, stationery, and other auxiliaries.
Briefly, and in other words, the bookseller
demonstrates himself to be what the immortal
Mr. Bumble once denominated the law. The
futility of appealing to anything in the shape
of esprit de corps has been proved nd nauseam,
and, instead of combining for the common
welfare, each bookseller fights only for his own
individual hand, and all agree to pursue the
suicidal policy of the ' happy dispatch ' by
cutting each other's commercial throats. Every
suggested remedy has, so far, failed, and we
believe that only one other now remains — viz.,
the redndio ad ahsurdiim of making it unprofit-
able to sell books at all. With this object in
view we have decided to sell, in future, all new
books published at any price whatever, from
one shilling upwards, at the actual prices at
which they are supplied by the publisher to the
bookseller, and we shall use every means in our
power to make the public acquainted with this
fact. When the time anives, if it ever should
arrive, that booksellers revert to a policy of
common sense by agreeing to sell their goods
at the full published price, and only at that,
we pledge ourselves to fall in line, and do as
they do ; but not untU then. This course has
been decided upon in no spirit of antagonism
to booksellers, but, on the contrary, for their
own benefit, in the hope that it may succeed,
where other experiments have failed, in restor-
ing bookselling to the status of a profitable
and self-respecting calling, instead of one that
leads {facilia descensus Alter no) to the wide-open
doors of the Court of Bankruptcy. J

THE DISCOUNT QUESTION.

A Desperate Remedy.

We have received a rather remarkable com-
munication from a London bookseller of
good position, who assures us that he
seriously contemplates taking the measures
proposed in the draft circular of which we
give a copy below. We offer no comment
on this communication, which, however,
<jannot, at all events, be described as dull
reading. Messrs. 's circular is addressed

TO B00KSEIXER8,

and the following is its text :

"During 1897 the condition of the book
trade has been a subject of anxious discussion
Among publishers, booksellers, and authors. It

I! |It [is to be assumed that this combative
bookseller expects that a short, sharp fight
on these lines will result in victory — or that
the moral effect of his attempt to solve the
discount question will be worth a large
sacrifice.

THE WEEK.

Mrs. Bishop adds that the two best book
on Korea have become obsolete, and tha
the traveller must now find his own fact,'
Accuracy has been her greatest aim, an'
her success in this particular is vouched fo
by Sir Walter C. Hillier, who was rint
recently the British Consul-General fc
Korea. The book is illustrated with view
of national types ; and a map of Korea an
the neighbouring countries is supplied.

A BOOK for big-game sportsmen is M
Arthur H. Neumann's Elephant Hunting
East Equatorial Africa. Mr. Neumau
claims that he has penetrated into regioi
not hitherto trodden by the British sport
man. The book is admirably produce
and the illustrations are exciting. In oi
Mr. Neumann is discovered on the groui
being attacked by a furious cow elephan
" Kneeling over me," he writes, " she ma(
three distinct lunges, sending her left tus
through the biceps of my right arm, ai
stabbing me between the right ribs ; at tl
same time pounding my chest with her he,'
and crushing in my ribs."

THERE has been a curious little rush of
books of travel during the last week.
Mrs. Bishop's (Isabella L. Bird's) Korea
and her Neighlows, in two volumes, makes a
particularly timely appearance. The book
is based upon observations made in four
visits to Korea, between January, 1894, and
March, 1897, and Mrs. Bishop's interest in
the country was aroused only gradually.
She writes :

"My first journey produced the impression
that Korea is the most uninteresting country
I ever travelled in, but dming and since
the war, its political perturbations, rapid
changes, and possible destinies, have given me
an intense interest in it ; while Korean character
and industry, as I saw both under Eussian rule
in Siberia, have enlightened me as to the better
possibilities which may await the nation in the
future. Korea takes a similarly strong grip on
all who reside in it sufficiently long to overcome
the feeling of distaste which at first it undoubt-
edly inspires."

A THIRD volume of travels is Mrs. Maiy
Walker's Old Tracts and New Zandmm;
Here we have wayside sketches in Orel
Macedonia, Mitylene, &c. Mrs. Walker h
written of Eastern Europe in several previo
works. Here she opens an old portfoli
and chats pleasantly on the experienc
which her sketches recall.

The edition of Bo»welVs Life of Johm
in the " Temple Classics " is completed
the issue of the fifth and sixth volumes.

A WORK of importance is Mr. Edwa
Jenks's J^w and Politics in th^ Middle Aj
The writer's first aim is to show that Law
the Middle Ages was not "the arbitra
command of authority, but somethi
entirely different."

NEW BOOKS RECEIVED.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.
Stvsikb of thk Miitd iir Christ. By the Rev. Tho

Adamson. T & T. Clark. 48. Cd.
The Clerical Lipb : a Sebies of Lettxbs to MiiriaTi

By Dr. John Watson, and Oiher Writers. Hodde

Ston^hton. 5s.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
The Life of Napoliow the Third. By Archi'
Forbes. Chatto & Windas. 128.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRK8.
The Poetical Works of Aubrey de Verb. Vol. ■

Macmillan <& Co. 6s.
Twenty-five Caktos fbou the Diviita Commedia '
Dahte. Translated into EnKlieb Verse. Dii >
Long & Co.
The Ophtm-Eater asd Essays. By Thomas De Qnin .
Edited by Richard Le Gallienne. Ward, Look A Cc

FICTION.
Thb Gow» iiTD THE Mvif. By Prester St. George. D; '

Long &, Co.
QcxEirs AitD KiTAVEs. By Celia Nash. Digby, Long i ■
38. Cd.

NATURAL HISTORY.
Bdds of THE Bbitish Empiee. By Dr. W. T. Greene, F ■ '

The Imperial Press, Ltd. 68.
The Feen World. By Francis George Heath. Ei»'

edition, revised. Ths Imperial Press, Ltd. fis.

AN. 15, \X^S.'\

THE ACADEMY.

TBAVBL AND TOPOGtRAPHY.

1 iSD FOBMOSI; THB SlOHT OF A SUCCESSIOL MlS-

loK. By the Rev. Jas. Johnston. Third edition.

lazell, Watson & Viney, Ltd.

rr Mbkoeif.8 of iif Ikdiah Wiittse. By Sara H.

3ann. Walter Scott, Ltd. Cs.

H AFEiCi OF To-Dir. By Captain Francis Yonng-

lusband, CLE. Maemillan & Co.

Ei AKD BEE NeiGHBOUES : A NaEBATITK OF TbaTEL.

3y Mrs. Bishop. 2 vols. John Murray.
Tbacks awd New Lahdhabks: Wayside Skbtckis
(t CEKtB, Macedon ia, MiTitENE, &0. Eichard
Bentley & Son-

fHAKT-HuSTIirO IK EaST ElJUATOBIAL AfBICA. By

\nhur H. Neumann. Rowland Ward.
[,'s Cathedbai. Seuies: Thb Cathedral Chuboh of
EiiTEE. By Percy Addleshaw, B.A. George Bell &
Sons, Is. 6d.

EDUCATIONAL.

TTxivEiisirr Tutoeial Seeibs: thb Tctobial
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jJs. 6d.

liiTET FOE BEsiyKEEs. By George M. Minchin, M.A.
[rhe Clarendon Press. Is. 6d.

'IB3T Year's Codksb of E:<peeimestal Wobk llf
pHEMisTRT. Edward Arnold. Is. 6d.
I Peeceptoes' Series : The Pekcepiobs' Fbinch
!:;ouESE. By Ernest Weekley, M.A. W. B. Clive.
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VicTOEiAJ Riti SsaiKS. John Bright. 2a. 6d.

Prebs Series (Cambridge University Press) : La

OETDitB DE D'Aeiagsax. By Alexandre Dumas.

Slited by Arthur U. Ropes, M.A. A Selection from

I.amb's Tales fuom Shakespeare. Edited by J. H-

I'lather, M.A. Minna Ton Barnhelm. By G. E.

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■ NOQRAPHs of the United States Geological
KVEY. Government Printing Oflfice.

DRAMA.

THE literary man fares none too well at
the hands of the dramatist. He is,
indeed, rarely to be seen on the stage at all,
which, by him, may be accounted a blessing,
since it is chiefly as a caricature that he is
of any dramatic utility. Mr. L. N. Parker
has introduced a popiJar novelist into " The
Happy Life," and what is the type ? A
yeUow-haired, curled (and probably scented)
dandy, who works two hours a day — a fit
companion for the amiable lady novelist,
" too popular to need reviews" and an ever
welcome guest at the houses of the great,
who tiitted through the curious melodrama,
manufactured not long ago out of Miss
Marie CoreUi's Sorrows of Satan. But
surely the most unrecognisable gendelettre
(as the French humorist has it, basing
himself upon the etymology of gendarme) is
the " David Holmes " of Miss Mai-tha
Morton's play, "A Bachelor's Eomance,"
in which Mr. John Hare makes his welcome
reappearance on the London boards. Mr.
David, as he is affectionately called by his
familiars, is an "eminent literary critic."
The chief contributor to a weekly paper of
repute, vaguely named The Review. He has
a den of books with an outlet upon the roof,
to which he occasionally betakes himself to
escape bores. In what city or even what
country ? impossible to say ; but presumably
London. Here, as old bachelor, in the
autumn of life, our literary recluse has spent
many years — so absorbed in his books that
he has had no time to see his ward — a young
lady of seventeen, to whom he continues to
send dolls and rocking-horses. Mark you !
he is not the editor of The Beview, but a
contributor to that organ. Nevertheless, he
keeps on the premises a couple of hungry
young literary lions, to whom he tosses an
occasional bundle of books for review with
the intimation that tliey may or may
not sign the " notices " of the same —
notices which they scribble off there
and then on their knee, without, so far, as
one can see, even glancing at the contents
of the volumes. Also, there is an aged
retainer, or literary hack, who "potters
about " (in the classical idiom of " Peter
the Great ") at a side table. The status
of Mr. David's young assistants maj- be
inferred from the fact that they share a
dress suit with each other. Yet the eminent
critic is not ungenerous. He is ever ready
to buy an old Plato for a guinea, or put
his hand in his trousers pocket (where he
carries his gold loose), to help a deserving
case. The aged retainer, who, by the way,
in his doddering senility writes a realistic
novel, must be an almost unique example
of the literary critic's bounty, since he is an
acknowledged failure in life, and of no
possible use to his patron. In what city,
in what country, one Wonders, have such
literary types been observed ?

is not described on the playbill as original,
is curiously suggestive of the old-world
romance of Adolph L'Arronge or his period
before the realism of Sudermann invaded the
German stage. Miss Martha Morton, of
whom one does not remember to have
heard as a dramatist, may have done this
play off her own bat, as the saying is ; but
I should not be surprised to learn that it
had a German original, and that the literary
critic who practises his craft in such
strange surroundings was in his previous
state of existence a professor of some
kind with disciples or assistants in his
laboratorj'. Such a literary workshop as
Mr. David's is certainly inconceivable at the
present day, and it is a curious commentary
upon the pretensions of the stage to be
" exact " and educative that a picture of
this kind should not only pass muster,
but receive a ceitain measure of popular
applause.

Here criticism may end and admiration
of Mr. Hare's work begin. The production
of " A Bachelor's Eomance " at the Globe
adds appreciably to the pleasures of the
theatre-going public. Providing one accepts
the eminent literary critic as an indispensable
postulate — and the public have no difficulty
about that — the story of the withered old
bachelor's new-found love for his youthful
ward, who brings a ray of sunshine and an
atmosphere of buttercups and daisies into
the musty old den of books, is fraught with
a rare charm. Mr. David is one of Mr.
Hare's most delightful impersonations.
"What a finished " character" actor he is to
be sure, albeit a trifle sharp and decisive in
manner for so unworldly a recluse as this
aging bookworm. "When the young lady
of seventeen looks up her guardian in his
study he dees not know who she is, nor
does she immediately tell him. She is
merely, he thinks, one of the competitors
for the thousand-pound prize offered by
The Beview, and of which ho is appointed
adjudicator, for a story. Indeed, everyone
around him is a competitor ; so that between
his honesty and his good nature there is a
sore struggle for predominance. But the
ordeal of the prize adjudication is, after aU,
a lighter one than that he is unwittingly
called u}! to face when he falls head over
ears in love with the artless and winsome
Syhda, young enough to be his grand-
daughter.

The truth is, that they have never
been observed at all. They are not even
"made in Germany," as the structure of
Miss Martha Morton's play itself may have
teen — fcr "A Bachelor's Eomance," which

Not only would it be improper to avail
himself of his official position to captivate
the young lady's affections ; but he hardly
knows whether he is in love. Like Mr.
Barrie's Professor GoodwiUie, he is merely
conscious of some new influence having come
into his life like a strain of melody into a
great silence. But Sylvia is thrown upon
his hands and something must be done with
her. He thinks to marry her to a youthful
admirer — the successful competitor for the
other prize ; but Sylvia herself is imwilling.
He is blind to what everybody else sees
clearly, that the young lady's affections are
fixed upon himself. How it came to be so
is the author's secret. I confess, I do not
understand Sylvia's primary infatuation.

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 16, 1898

Mr. David is the last man in the world that
one would pitch upon as the beau ideal of
an emancipated schoolgirl already attending
concerts and dances. But the dramatist is
an autocrat within his own domain. He
says a thing is, and provided he and the
actor succeed between them in rendering it
acceptable, it forthwith assumes the com-
plexion of truth. This marvel is accom-
plished in Mr. David's case. The schoolgirl's
caprice becomes a delightful motive for the
play, whose development the house follows
with undisguised satisfaction. It is a pure
fairy-tale, but Mr. David is so simple, so
unselfish, so kind, so deserving, that no one
has it in his heart to grudge him his good
fortune.

CORRESPONDENCE.

Is it in very truth good fortune for a man
of middle age to win the love of a schoolgirl?
For the purposes of this play, no doubt.
These may in a special sense be described as
amours sans lendemain. We do not trouble
to follow them beyond the fall of the curtain.
The soimd of wedding bells has always been
accepted as a satisfactory climax on the
stage, and Miss Martha Morton gives us
not one wedding, but two, if not three.
One of the young lions captures a fascin-
ating widow, David's sister, charmingly
impersonated by Miss May Harvey. The
other, it is true, having set his affections
upon Sylvia, is left lamenting. He has
"been spoilt, we are told, by his success in
the literary competition, having by this time
procured no fewer than twelve suits of
clothes. But this drawback, to the satisfac-
tion of the audience, is speedily redressed
by a brother of Mr. David's — a sad dog to
begin with— who wears a sporting overcoat
and helps himself too freely to the brandy-
bottle, but ultimately a reformed character,
thanks to a little rustication in a rose-decked
cottage and a course of milk and turnips,
which he adopts in preference to alcohol
and tobacco. He, too, causes the wedding
bells to ring by making up some long-
standing difference with his innamorata.

Aftee being harassed by the problem
drama of Mr. Pinero and the fashionable
cynicism of Mr. Henry Arthur Jones, it is
curious with what relish the public turn to
this simple diet. To be sure, the acting of
Miss Martha Morton's rather conventional
romance is all that could be desired. Mr.
Hare's part as Mr. David I have mentioned
as one of his best. He has had the luck to
discover a most winning little actress in Miss
Nellie Thome, who looks the heroine to the
life. Miss Nellie Thome has the charm of
youth and simplicity unspoilt as yet by the
artifices of the stage which make French
and American inginues so mannered and in-
sufferable. Miss May Harvey as the widow
brightens the scenes in which she appears,
and Mr. Frederick Kerr shows a (!om-
mendable adaptability first as the dissipated
young man about town, and afterwards
as the reformed candidate for matrimony.
Quite a remarkable study of "pottering"
old age is given by Mr. Gilbert Hare.
There is senility not only in his voice and
manner, but in his very clothes.

J. F. N.

THE AUTHOR'S FIGURES —A
CHALLENGE.

SiB^ — Sir Walter Besant is imfortunate.
Why does he not give in and admit himself
mistaken ? One can't shine at all points of
the compass, and it is no disgrace to him
that he writes better than he reckons. If
you are a master at one thing, why show
yourself a ridiculous blunderer at another ?
And it is no excuse for liim that in most
other things the Amateur is " on the town."
He cannot distinguish between three-and-a-
half and six — this dilettante of aritlimetic ;
calls his bungling a " small error of detail "
(as if a " small error of detail " could not
upset a nation's budget), and would, never-
theless, establish himself our " Comptroller
of Figures."

Sir Walter is equally unfortunate in his
playful allusion to myself. His psycho-
logical nose should have made him scent the
difference between my feelings towards the
Literary Agent and my feelings towards his
Magazine. For the one, as I know him, I
have the same natural shrinking that one
has from contact with a maquereau ; for
the other, in moments of malice, a smile
— in moments of good-nature, surprise at
its blundering ignorance — yet never a
suspicion of intentional deceit.

I thank Sir Walter all the same ; and I
wonder if in his genial humour he will
withdraw his Catonian jest : "Heinemannus
delendus est! " — I am, dear Sir, very truly
your (and Sir Walter's) obedient servant,
Wm. Heinemann.

P.S. — We publishers are anxious — no
class more so — to purge our ranks of black
sheep, if they exist. I hereby challenge
Sir Walter to prove his assertions, and to
name the person who pretends to have spent
" £14 on advertising, when £5 is nearer the
mark." I further undertake, in case of a
libel action, to pay aU his out-of-pocket
expenses (and let him engage the best
counsel), if he can prove his assertion to
the satisfaction of a jury. If he cannot, let
him admit it, and at all costs let us get rid
of these unseemly innuendoes.

W. H.

Sm, — It would, I think, be discourteous
to Sir Walter Besant to take no notice of
his last letter, and yet I do not see that I
can say anything fresh. So far from fixing
upon this or that detail, I stated, in the
broadest way, a charge, which Sir Walter
Besant makes absolutely no attempt to meet.
Let me restate it — finally, I hope. A
publishing proposal is submitted to the
Author ; whether that proposal be fair or
not obviously depends upon the special
circimistances of the case — extent of the
work, presence or not of illustrations, quality
of paper and binding, amount expended in
advertising, &c. Instead of ascertaining
definitely what these circumstances were,
the Author, so far, at least, as the outsider
can judge, imagined what they were likely
to be, and, upon the strength of its imagin-
ings, proceeded to criticise the proposal. I

showed that these imaginings were contn-
to probability, and involved grave erro.
In defending them Sir Walter Besant ma^
further and even graver errors {e.g., ij
statement that a nominal edition of 1,.')
would yield enough " overs " to supj-
press and presentation copies). I had, '
course, to point out these errors, but I i
not wish to insist upon them. Even if ii
Author's imaginings were probable, instct
of being, as I contend, improbable ; oven !
they were free from error, as I contend tl •
are demonstrably not, I should still ui'
that it is wrong to criticise another ma ■
conduct upon the basis not of what (■
knows to be the facts, but of what (i
thinks are likely to be the facts. Thai i
the question, and until Sir Walter Bes!
addresses himself to it I think I may fai
neglect all side issues. — I am, yours, &c.,

AiFEED Nun

THE BITTEE CEY OF A SECONl
HAND BOOKSELLEE.
Sir, — How the publication of the prii
of books at sales works may be Ulustra I
thus : Three years ago a book was marl .
in a bookseller's catalogue at £4. ]•
various reasons I was probably the o-
man alive who would have given £4 •
that copy: I had another of the eai
edition. I paid £4 ; and then, in J :
Trices Current, or some such manual, fm .
that the bookseller had bought the copy •
£1, probably at the Auchinleck sale, as
as I remember. I don't grudge the ho
seller his success, nor do I want to sell ■
book for £4 : the price was a matter
sentiment. But I cannot join in the lam
tations of your aggrieved second-hand boi
seller. Whether £4 for a £1 book is
fair price " is a question of metaphysi
but, as the Yankee said of eternal puni
ment, " our people would never stand it.' '
I am, yours, &c., Andrew Lxsa

Jan. 8 : St. Andrews, N.B.

A "LANG CATALOGUE."

Sir, — Your notice of my "Lang Ca
logue" surprised me, as I sent out
copies to the press.

It is a catalogue of books in my priv:
library, and does not profess to be comple
far less to be a bibliography. It has b(
sent to friends who are in a position to h
me to complete my set of Mr. Lang's boo!
and already I have got valuable assistanc

It expressly excludes Mr. Lang's periodic
and journalistic work, though I have a vi
large collection of articles, leaders, &c.

Thanking you for your kindly notice, a
regretting I have no copy to send you.-
am, yours, &c.

C. M. F-ilOOSEB.

Dundee, Jan. 10, 1898.

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THE ACADEMY.

CONTENTS.

RiTllWS :

lU-fftted Fergnsson

Christina Roesetti

Peter the Great

A Book about Dungeons

A Trades Unionist Cyclopaidia

In Southern Seas

Beiefes MBKTIOir

flctiob suppdemeht

Notes ahd News

"Lewis Cabeoll"

"Lewis 0»kboli." at Oxfokd

The "EDiNBUkOH"' ON Mb. Kipling

PAKIS LETrBB

Tkb Booe Mabeet

The Titles of Newspapers

Tlie Future of the /dJer

Tbe Wbee

New Books Received

COBBESPONDENCE

Boos Bbtiiwb Riviewbd

Piei

... 87

... 90
... 91
... 91
... 92
... 93
... 05
... 98
... 99
... 100
... 100
... 101
... 102
... 102
.. 103
... 103
... 103
... 105

REVIEWS.

ILL-FATED FEEGUSSON.

Robert Fergusson. By A. B. Grosart.
" Famous Scots " Series. (Olipliant,
Anderson & Ferrier.)

THE merits of Dr. Grosart as a bio-
grapher are such as spring from a life-
'ong admiration of his hero. Nearly fifty
ears ago he wrote a life of Fergusson,
ind ever since he appears to have kept
p the study, adding fact to fact till,
rhat with searching libraries, examining
ecords and importuning correspondents,
i; may be assumed that he has collected
ill that is Ukely to be known of a singidarly
literesting and attractive figure. Dr.
jrosart's demerits are, firstly, that he is too
rmtroversial ; what was needed was a bold,
I tuple portrait, not a series of attacks
1 David Irving and the obscure critics
ho see in Fergusson only an example
justly punished vice and profiigacy.
lie second drawback is the more serious
le, that despite his zeal Dr. Grosart
cks judgment and imagination. For
jample, his hunt for such petty facts as
jike up his "ell of pedigree " is a mere
jiste of energy ; of wliat eartldy use is it
I show that if you go back to his great
fandfather, the impecunious bard had re-
^sctable connexions, " wadsetters," kirk
ilnisters, and such like ? And, on the
cier hand, not enough pains has been
tken to reproduce the environment of the
pt, to reconstruct the St. Andrews and
i^inburgh of a hundred and fifty years

|[t is not tiU he gets to the University
tit we can form any picture or idea of
ftgusson as an individual. His father and
ntther were honest, worthy people, who
eiiently made great sacrifices to educate
tlir children. Among the documents
fii od up by Dr. Grosart is a little budget
slwing how William Fergusson made a
nlerable income of twenty pounds a year
ccjor the family expenses. It was charac-
teistic that less was paid for the house in
Ci( and Feather Close than for the school-
"I of the bairns. Robert acquitted himself

well at his books, eventually winning a
bursary or scholarship that carried
him first to Dundee Grammar School,
and then to St. Andrews. It is here
that Dr. Grosart should have gone
outside the lines on which he had been
previously working to obtain material for
helping us to realise what Scotch University
life was in the sixties of last century. "We
do begin to catch sight of the boy — a slim,
delicate youth, with a sweet voice, and wide,
black, laughing eyes, full of spirit and
devilment, already beginning to rhyme and
hand round bits of his witty, satirical
verse. What were his companions like ?
Dr. Grosart has got together a list of the
more distinguished names ; but it is the
impecunious and reckless unknown we are
curious about. The professors, too, must
have been very different from what their
successors are. There was WUkie, who
appears to have taken a warm liking to
Fergusson, made him a sort of amanuensis,
and carried him off to his farm at week-
ends. He is little more than a name in Dr.
Grosart's book ; yet in good sooth he was
one of the most extraordinary of professors,
and it would help us much to know what
was the bond between him and "Eab."

Let us try to realise him. Externally
he certainly was not attractive. A lum-
bering. Parson Trulliber sort of man,
with bushy eyebrows, a clay tobacco-pipe
in his mouth, Ul-dressed, unwashed — it
is related, among other items of true or
untrue contemporary gossips, that he could
not sleep except in foul sheets. He was
miserly to a degree ; and when not lecturing
at the University, toiled like a day labourer
on his farm, and was most unsocial and
unpopular. Nevertheless, this pig-dealing
professor was every inch of him a man.
And his mind must have been nigh as versa-
tile as Mr. Gladstone's. He was a subtle
theologian, a natural philosopher, one of
the most advanced agricidturists of his time,
and a voluminous author and poet ; his
" Epigoniad " is a long (and frightfully dull)
poem in nine books. At bottom, neverthe-
less, he was simple and strong and kindly.
"I have shaken hands with poverty up to
the elbow," was his eloquent apology for
being miserly, but he set aside twenty
pounds a year for charity ; and (let this,
too, be set to his credit) he was regularly
cheated at market, and his high farming
did not pay. Now, is it not extraordinary
that this singular professor should have
singled out young Fergusson as a favourite ?
The eclogue in which the poet lamented
the death of Wilkie shows that the esteem
was warmly returned.

To make a life of Fergusson convincing
it would be necessary to recall not only
professors and students, but old collegiate
usages and customs, and all that which
made up the university life of his time.
The mere anecdotes retailed in succession
by Irving, Somners, Chambers, and the
rest, and now repeated by the present author,
lose their air of reality unless we can imagine
their " setting." We fuUy agree with Dr.
Grosart that the freaks and follies at St.
Andrews, though they ended once in a short
rustication, were not really viciou.s, but
only the outcome of a very merry, high-

spirited temperament, combined with unusual
audacity. In fact, this St. Andrews period
is the one bit of unclouded sunshine in a
very touching history.

The clouds soon gathered round him.
His father died the year before he left the
University and he was obliged to look about
not only for his own livelihood but means
to support his widowed mother. An ill-
starred visit to an uncle in the North was
disappointing in itself and brought on a
serious illness. On recovery the lad drifted
into a position similar to that held by his
father, that of a copying clerk, the worst
paid and most irksome task to which he
could be put. The natural result followed.
All day Fergusson was "a base mechanic
drudge" ; he only began to wake up when
the office closed. It was the hey-day of
tavern life. Dr. Grosart might have found
excellent illustrative material for this period
in Ramsay of Ochtertyre's Scotland in the
Eighteenth Century, as well as in Guij
Mannering and MedgauntUt. Fergusson was
probably no worse than his time, but he
was no better, and the best of his hours
were spent at Luckie Middlemist's or
Johnny How's. He was very welcome, for
people soon began to look upon him as a
celebrity, his poems in Muddinven's Magazine
achieving an immediate success. In
addition he had a fund of " auld Scots
crack " and was a fine singer. One of his
biographers describes him as " the best
singer ever heard of ' The Birks of Inder-
may.' " Indeed, his name is very closely
associated with Mallet's small lyric. He
chose it for unique praise in his " Elegy
on the Death of Scots Music " :

" Can lav'rocks at the dawning day,
Can liuties chinning frae the spray,
Or todling bums that smoothly play

O'er gowden beds,
Compare wi' Birks of Indermay ? "

It was pre-eminently his favourite song.
When out of his wits the poor mad poet sang
it in Bedlam "with such exquisite melody
that those who heard the notes can never
forget the sound." Our tastes have changed
since then, and no anthology of to-day
includes "The Birks of Indermay"; yet
words that have so charmed a true poet
should not be forgotten, though the first
four lines do contain the jewels " smiling
morn," "breathing spring," "tuneful birds'"
which " warble from each spray," and
" universal lay." Still, there is a linger-
ing charm like some half-exhausted fra-
grance about

" Let us, Amanda, timely wise,
Like them improve the hour that flies,
And in soft raptures waste the day
Among the Birks of Indermay."

Fergusson was doing better work than that
if ho had known it. He was, as Stevenson
called him, " the poet of Edinburgh," and
not even Sir Walter has given u» livelier
pictures of its streets and causeways, its law-
courts and races and amusements. Not by
any means that we claim him to have been
a Scott or Bums, he lacked the pith and
grip. Yet a clever, sly humour, a keen
observation, and a something of freshness,
reminding one of the gleam of jjrass when
the sun comes out after rain, entitle him to

THE ACADEMY.

[Jaw. 22, 1898.

a high place among the minors. His
" Farmer's Ingle " will compare even with
"The Cotter's Saturday Night," and when
Bums imitated the following verses he did
not altogether surpass his original :
" In July month, ae bonny morn.
When nature's rokelay green
Was spread owre ilka rig o' corn

To charm our rovin' een,
Glowrin' about, I saw a queaa,

The fairest neath the Utt ;
Her een were o' the siller sheen,
Her skin like snawy drift,
Sae white that day.

I dwall amang the cauler streams

That weet the land o' cakes.
And aften tune my canty strings

At bridals and late- wakes.
They ca' me Mirth. I ne'er was kenned

To grumble or look sour.
But blythe would be a lift to lend
Gif ye would sey my power
And pith this day."
One cmnot help doubting Dr. Grosart's
wisdom in trying to whitewash the reputa-
tion of Fergusson. E. L. Stevenson had
abundant grounds for using the terms
" drimken " and " vicious " towards him.
Biography is worthless if it be not true,
and surely there are few so weak that they
cannot look the good and the ill frankly in
the face. Not the least pathetic of the
many stories about Fergusson is that which
tells how he tried to get the Knights of the
Cape — the jovial society that once every
seven years celebrated the " jubilee " of
Jemmy Thomson — to limit their expenditure
to sixpence a night. He was sorry for and
ashamed of his indulgence. He drank, he
said, "to forget my mother and my poor
aching fingers." It is pity and not blame
that this calls forth. One other point
deserves to be alluded to :

" In a time of hcense," says Dr. Grosart,
" and fast living no so-called love-Uaisons ever
came up against him, no ' woman's skaith '
was ever laid at his door, no such salutations
with defiance of illegitimate offspring as we
mourn over in the greater Eobert."

This is whitewash pure and simple.
Stevenson, in his Edinburgh, has frankly
stated the truth : " Love was absent from
his life, or only present, if you prefer, in
such a form that even the least serious of
Bums's amourettes was ennobling by com-
parison."

We have no desire to enlarge upon the

Eoint. It was a cold caught while (after
e had dosed himself with " a searching
medicine ") he was electioneering that
brought on Fergusson's madness and death
at the age of twenty-four, a death not alto-
gether unlike that of Bums himself. The
fact that a hundred pounds came from his
friend Burnett while he lay a corpse in an
institution for jjaupers was but one of many
circumstances enhancing the pathos of the
end. Dr. Grosart may well claim for his
hero "the meed of a melodious tear" ; but
it will come the more honestly from those
who refuse to gloss anything over or adopt
the recent Scotch fashion of crediting a
favourite with virtues to which he himself
makes no claim. It was foolish in the case
of Bums; it is more foolish in that of
Fergusson.

Fergusson's reputation does not need to be
bolstered up. He will continue to have
readers were it only because critics so
difficult to please as Bums, "Wordsworth,
and Carlyle unite in his praise. Lovers of •
R. L. Stevenson have a stiU deeper reason
for studying Fergusson. What it is will
best be explained by a remarkable letter
printed by Dr. Grosart in his introduction.
It was addressed to Mr. Craibe Angus, of
Glasgow. Stevenson writes :

" When your hand is in, will you remember
our poor Edinburgh llobin !' Bums alone has
been just to his promise; follow Bums. He
knew best; he knew when to draw fish — from
the poor, white-faced, drunken, vicious boy
who raved himself to death in the Edinburgh
madhouse. Surely there is more to be gleaned
about Fergusson, and surely it is high time the
task was set about.

I may tell you (because your poet is not
dead) something of how I feel. We are three
Eobins who have touched the Scots lyre this
last century. Well, the one is the world's. He
did it, he came off; he is for ever; but I and
the other, ah, what bonds we have. Bom in
the same city, both sickly, both vicious, both
pestered — one nearly to madness and one to the
madhouse — with a damnatory creed ; both see-
ing the stars arid the moon, and wearing shoe-
leather on the same ancient stones. Under the
same pends, down the same closes, where our
common ancestors clashed in their armour,
rusty or bright. . . . He died in his acute,
painful youth, and left the models of the great
things that were to rome ; and the man who
came after outlived his green-sickness, and has
faintly tried to parody his finished work.

If you will collect strays of Robert Fergusson,
fish for material — collect any last re-echoing of
gossip ; command me to do what you prefer :
to write the preface — to write the whole, if you
prefer; anything so that another monument
(after Burns') be set up to my unhappy prede-
cessor, on the Causey of Auld Reekie. You
will never know, nor will any man, how deep
this feeling is. I believe Fergusson lives in
me. I do. But ' tell it not in Gath.' Every
man has these fanciful superstitions coming,
going, but yet enduring ; only most men are so
wise (or the poet in them so dead) that they
keep their follies for themselves."

Among the unwritten books it is probable
that one of tho greatest was Stevenson's
life of Fergusson. No man is living (or
likely to live) who is equally qualified by
knowledge and sympathy. Of the self-
revelation it would almost be desecration to
speak. Dr. Grosart attempts to weaken
the comparison ; but he did not know
Stevenson, and he has penetrated but a
short way into the inner recesses of Robert
Fergusson, whereas the author of the letter
understood both. A biographer with young
and modem sympathies might yet achieve
a great success by taking the letter as the
basis of a new study.

CHRISTINA EOSSETTI.

Christina Eossetti : a Biographical and Critical
Study. By Mackenzie Bell. (Hurst &
Blackett.)

Heee is a volume inspired by sympathy and
personal friendship, and executed with un-
sparing conscientiousness ; yet sympathy and

friendship would desire it undone, or done
otherwise, and it would have been better
had it been less conscientious. Some bio-
graphy of Christina Rossetti was needed and
advisable, but this biography was inadvis-
able, and would not have been missed.
We are sorry to say so, for the author's
sincerity, and unassuming desire to do his
best, are conspicuous on every page. There
is no aggressive fault of taste ; it does not
rank with those biographies which are sins
against the dead by their sins against the
living; there are no "painful exposures,"
and so forth. Christina Rossetti, indeed,
offers no chance for such offences. The
difficulties of her life are quite in a contrary
direction. Externally, she lived the lite
which our forefathers laid down as proper
and typical for women — quiet, uneventful,
unmarked, drab, conventional. She de-
parted from the law of our forefathers in
only two respects : she published books, and
she did not marry. (It was, of course, d»
rigueur with our forefathers that a woman
should be neither an old maid nor a blue-
stocking.) We are not blaspheming against
our forefathers. With the modifications
mentioned, the life worked well enough for
Christina, who never in the least dogbee put
on the new woman, however much she
strove to put off the old man. But it is
clear that such a life offers little foothold
for the biographer. His one chance is to get
a grip on that internal life which must
be the total life of such a woman.

But, unfortunately, Christina Rossetti's
present biographer is in thorough harmony
with her external life ; he is drab to the soul,
drab in all his methods. (Of course, we
speak of his book.) And yet he means so
well! His faults result from a too indis-
criminate insistence upon detail. Convinced,
quite rightly, that the . lightest detail about
a genius may be fuU of importance, he
records everything, without observing per-
spective. But because a light detail may
have importance, it does not follow that
every light detail has importance. It is
true we have had impressionists who acted
upon the principle that an assemldage of
seemingly trifling details constituted a
character, though they might not be able
to discover the law by which this was so ;
trusting to the veracity of Nature for
the result. But these impressionists were
geniuses, who were guided by inward
instinct to the right selective traits.
It is a mistake to suppose that the mere
painstaking setting down of every trivia)
trait that one can observe will consti-
tute a picture and evolve a meaning. This if
Mr. Bell's mistake ; and it is with mosi
honest intention we counsel him that s
judicious selection is necessary, in order tc
make trifling details sig^ficant and charac
teristic.

This mistake of principle — or, rather
want of principle- flows through the whol(
book, and is responsible for its defects. I
shows itself in the minute inventory o
Christina Rossetti's house at Torrington
square. It shows itself in the selections fron
her letters — if we can call them selections
for they are reported with pertinaciou:
fidelity, irrespective of their importance
Absolutely, in connexion with one letter, W'

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

are given an inventory of lodging-houses,
with such soul-stirring details as —

" Bed and sitting room in one, 25s. per week.

Gas, Is. 6d do.

Boots, Id."

The reminiscences of her youth and of
her conversation are related with the same
painful want of scale : how she sat a long
time in a garden by a piece of ornamental
water, until she saw a water-rat or a water-
haunting bird, and how she was much
gratified by it, with a neat little moral
reflection to follow. It is true that she
herself published this anecdote, but it might
well have been omitted from her biography.
Yet, of course, amid so much con-
scientious reporting, there are interesting
details, from which it is possible to get an
idea of her personality. Bom in 1830, at
Charlotte-street, Portland-place, she was tho
youngest of a family of four. Except the
eldest, Maria Francesca, all have become
publicly known. She was not very pre-
cocious, and is said to have read less than
the other members of the family. There
is really very little of interest chronicled
in this book about her early years.
She was always delicate, and in youth
serious, reticent, and given to melancholy —
as her poems show. Moreover, she was
essentially a city girl, and essentially a
'religious g^rl. Therefore her outward life
jwas quiet and humdrum; and, for a girl
;brought in contact with so many eminent
[people, singularly unromantic. It is a great
|contrast to the life of her brother Dante.
iShe had no desire to run glittering in the
jopen Sim, or if she had, she suppressed it.
She had no fanciful love-affairs, it would
!!eem. Twice she was asked in marriage, and
refused both offers from religious scruples.
But what romance there may have been in
ihese affairs must be sought in her poetry,
|t does not appear on the surface. Mr. Bell
'iierely says that she had a " regard " for
;)oth her suitors, and that she was much
addened by the necessity of rejection, espe-
liaUy in the case of the second. It may be
joubted whether passionate love was in her
'ature, although one is liable to be mistaken
,1 regard to these reserved characters.
I Her religion, which helped to crush ex-
I'mal romance, supplied little romance in its
llace. She was a poet, and in a certain way
lid measure a mystic ; yet there is nothing
i' the St. Teresa about her devotion. She
jas of the "pensive nun" kind, "sober,
•eadfast, and demure." But the " pensive
im" in a dark London house, amid the
josaic details of Anglican parish organisa-
im, is apt to be a discouraging subject for
(ography. Moreover, she set herself to over-
«me her outward reserve and pensiveness ;
td settled down into a cheery, chatty old lady.
Jjwas bravely done ; but the romance of it
jS behind the veil which she never lifted,
jim within which came at rarest intervals
s^gestions of pain and silent strife. The
^mpses of her personal appearance in girl-
ed which Mr. Bell gives are taken from
ajcady published memorials. Bell Scott's
iime :

r By the window was a high narrow reading-
d k, at which stood writing a slight girl, with
a'irious regular profile, dark against the pallid

wintry light without. This most interesting to
me of the two inmates tamed on my entrance,
made the most formal and graceful curtsey, and
resumed her writing."

That is a suggestive outline : fill it in
from Mr. Watts-Dunton's account :

" She had Gabriel's eyes, in which hazel and
blue-grey were marvellously blent, one hue
shifting into the other, answering to the move-
ments of the thoughts. And her brown hair,
though less warm in colour than his during
his boyhood, was still like it. When a young
girl, she was, as both her mother and Gabriel
have told me, really lovely, with an extra-
ordinary expression of pensive sweetness."

Mrs. Frend, again, speaks of her as "a
dark-eyed slender lady ... in appearance
Italian, with olive complexion and deep
hazel eyes." She mentions, also, "the
beautiful Italian voice all the Rossettis
were gifted with." Many friends noticed
this peculiar charm in Christina, and
the melodious, un - English distinctness
with which she articulated her words,
" making ordinary English words and
phrases fall upon the ear with a soft,
foreign, musical intonation, though she
pronounced the words themselves with the
purest of English accents." She read
poetry exquisitely, as both Mr. William
Sharp and Mr. Bell declare, and as, with
such a voice and the poet's mind, she ought
to have done.

Let us add a few correcting touches to
this clear and charming picture. It is open
to doubt the assertion of her mother and
brother that she was ever strictly "lovely."
Her brother's portraits bear out the descrip-
tion ; but he was too idealising to be quite
trustworthy. Other portraits suggest a
different version ; and even in Dante
Eossetti's pictures there is a marked differ-
ence between the face in the " Assumption "
and that in the " Ecce Ancilla Domini "
(both painted from Christina). In the
latter the face is hardly beautiful from a
strict physical standpoint ; and it happens
to be borne out by James CoUinson's por-
trait of Christina given in Mr. Bell's book.
In the same way we gather hints that, to
some people, the young Christina may
have been a little repellant. "A certain
degree of restraint and pride" was
observed in her. A lady told her (as
she herself confessed) that she " seemed to
do aU from self-respect, not from fellow-
feeling with others, or from kindly considera-
tion for them." We get a pretty clear
idea of a girl hardly pretty or attractive,
not very sympathetic, reserved, quiet,
melancholy, shy, and appearing proud
from her shyness and defect of ready
sympathy. When she had to struggle with
natural sadness, reticence, and self-conscious-
ness, no common sfrength and sense of duty
was it which converted her into a sweet,
cheerful, self-forgetful woman.

Her life was inward. Outwardly, thare
seems really nothing to record but that she
nursed ailing relations, was foremost in
religious and charitable duties, was ever
ready to sacrifice her time to visitors, went
little (in her latter years) out of doors, put
forth some prose-works, mainly religious,
not of the very highest literary quality, and
published from tune to time poetry of high

rank. She had, naturally, little sympathy
with the movement for female rights,
being herself so undesirous of external
activities. Of her talk it is impossible to
judge from the not well-chosen specimens
given by Mr. Bell. She could utter — and
indeed write — platitudes like other women ;
that is made evident. But her best poetry
is work of genius, and upon that rests her
name. She wrote, her brother says, with
great spontaneity, and seldom revised what
she wrote. Yet she was artist to her finger-
tips, and not the less so because her art was
an inward shaping spirit, not outward prun-
ing and paring. But this is not the occasion
for an essay on Christina Rossetti as poet.
We have dealt with an attempt at a diffi-
cult, perhaps a hardly possible, biography
of a woman who lived the inner life. And
with regret we must pronounce it a chronicle
of small beer.

PETER THE GREAT.

Feter the Great. By Oscar Browning, M.A.
(Hutchinson.)

Mr. Oscar Browking has no particular fit-
ness to write a history of Peter " the Great,"
or, if he has, we were not aware of the fact.
Indeed, in the brief preface attached to his
life of that worthy, he confesses that,
in gathering material for his book, he
has confined himself for the most part to
one or two well-known and generally acces-
sible authorities. He has made no exhaus-
tive researches among historical archives
and unpublished documents, as M. Walis-
zewski did when preparing his magnificent
study; and Waliszewski's work itself,
he tells us, " did not come into his hands
until half the present book was in type."
This is at once our loss and Mr. Browning's,
for his biography would certainly have
gained in vividness and interest if Mr.
Browning had been able to lighten its very
sombre pages with some of the curious
details which were unearthed by M. Walis-
zewski. Lovers of Russian history, by the
way, wiU learn with pleasure that a cheap
edition of that gentleman's work in one
volume has just been issued by Mr. Heine-
mann.

Mr. Browning comes, then, to his task as a
compiler only. His object is merely to sum
up in brief for the general public the
principal facts of Peter's life as they have
been brought to light by the researches of
earlier students. Judged by this standard,
is the book valuable ? That is the question
we have to ask ourselves. On the whole,
we think it is. It is written in a clear,
readable style. It is not overloaded with
details— indeed, some interesting matters
are omitted— and the principal characters
and events are described with straight-
forwardness and a certain ability. It is in
no sense a brilliant book, but it la work-
manlike and, on the whole, sound. Of
course Mr. Browning has been unable
wholly to avoid the modern quasi-reveren-
tial attitude towards Peter as the " maker
of modem Russia," and the rest, a^d he
respectfully eulogises his "genius and

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 22, 1898.

" force of character," but he admits at
times that his wisdom may be questioned.
With regard to Peter's services to Eussia
and his determination to Europeanise his
country, he points out frankly what may be
said against his Baltic policy :

" The foundation of St. Petersburg was paid
for by the disasters upon the Pruth and the loss
of Azof. Some compensation was foimd in the
attacks upon Central Asia and Persia, which
have ever since remained a principal object of
BuBsian ambition. Undoubtedly Peter owed
his first prominence in Europe to the fact that
he was regarded as the principal European
bulwark against the Turks, and as the leader
of the Vanguard of the Cross against the
dangerous barbarism of the Crescent. It may
be questioned whether it would not have been
better to have sustained this part with more
tenacity and to have sought an outlook into
Europe rather through the Black Sea and the
Mediterranean than through the Baltic and the
North Sea."

Mr. Browning attributes the course which
Peter actually took to " fate and perhaps
accident " ; but that verdict has an un-
scientific ring about it, and it may more
reasonably be affirmed that it was Peter's
defective judgment, and not fate or accident,
which caused him to devote his country's
energies to expansion towards the north
rather than towards Constantinople.

No historian has ever managed to paint
Peter as an amiable character, though many
(Waliszewski among them) have warmed
to enthusiasm over his " greatness." Mr.
Browning takes the common-sense view —
admits Peter's many-sided activity, accepts
him as a man of large ideas and great will-
power, but makes no attempt to disguise
the fact that he was a coarse and brutal
ruffian. He is inclined to deny the charges
of cowardice that have been brought against
him (Waliszewski considers them proved),
but his other vices are too patent and
glaring to be worth disputing :

"The story of his life and works is his best
monument. Most remarkable is the energy of
his vitality, the passion which he put into
everything he did — ^work and play, humanity
and cruelty. . . . One might say that he was
European in his intellect, Asiatic in his sport,
Savage in his wrath."

This is perhaps a somewhat unflattering
estimate of the intellect of Europe. Peter
waa a monster, but a monster gifted
with a considerable intelligence and a
gigantic activity. He was not quite sane,
but no one could call him imbecile. His
madness is tlie madness which is found
in the gigantic schemes of Caligula,
and traces of which are found, by some,
in the restless activity of William II.
of Germany. There seems little doubt that
he was epUeptic. In his physical peculiari-
ties he resembled another Emperor of Eome,
Claudius, for we read of his swaying head
and clumsy, shuffling walk, his constant
nervous twitcMngs and endless grimaces.
In his personal cowardice, too, he resembles
Claudius, but there all resemblance with
that amiable weakling ends. He was not a
man of commanding intellect, but made up
for this by a certain intellectual nimbleness
which enabled him to throw himself heart
and soul into lialf-a- dozen things at once.
In this his resemblance to the present

German Emperor is certainly striking. His
schemes for his country were grandiose in
the extreme, and he was, perhaps, wise
in his determination to sever Eussia from
her Past and "turn her face Westward " ;
but his methods of doing it were never ju-
dicious, and occasionally were disastrous, and
he had a madman's inability to count the
cost or adapt the means to the end. More-
over, looking at the Eussia of to-day, in
so far as it is his creation no one can pre-
tend that the result is altogether satisfac-
tory. The virtues of the nation are still
Oriental, while its vices are largely the
vices of Europe. It is impossible to forgive
Peter's treatment of the mutinous Streltsi.

A word may be said of his relations
with his son Alexis, especially as these form
the subject of Mr. Laurence Irving's play at
the Lyceum. As to the death of Alexis, Mr.
Browning is indisputably right, Mr. Irving
entirely wrong. It may be said that a drama-
tist need not be true to history, but no one
denies that he must be true to character, and
the Lyceum reconciliation between Peter
and his son requires a different Peter and a
different Alexis. The true facts of the story
of the son's death appear to be that after his
conviction he was repeatedly tortured with the
knout by Peter's orders and in his presence.
Whether the Tsar actually struck the fatal
blow himself is of no importance and cannot
be ascertained now. But his treatment of
his son stamps him with indelible infamy,
and was unworthy even of the worst of those
ancient kings of Persia who also claim for
themselves the title of "Great," perhaps
with equal justice. Peter, in fact, was an
Oriental despot, not of the first ability. He
had the true despot's indifference to the
lives, the comfort, the dignity of his sub-
jects. He grafted upon his country a
civilisation which she was not fitted to
receive, and attempted to force upon her
from without a development which, to be
valuable, could only have come by slow
process of years from within. But his reign
was long, and he was utterly devoid of
scruples. Naturally, therefore, he "left his
mark " on his country, but his influence has
been greatly exaggerated, and any attempt
to whitewash him as a moral character is
quite preposterous.

A BOOK ABOUT DUNGEONS.

The Dungeons of Paris. By Tighe Hopkins.
(G. P. Putnam's Sons.)

In this book Mr. Tighe Hopkins tells the
stories of the old prisons of Paris in a series
of episodes. In succession he takes us
to the Conciergerie, the Bicetre, Chaletet,
Sainte-Pelagie, the Bastille, and others. The
survey is mainly confined to the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries. Indeed, the
marrow of the book is Mr. Hopkins's
accounts of the operation of Uttres de cachet in
the years that preceded the French Eevolu-
tion. We look on Paris from the gates of
the Paris prisons. At Vincennes, in the
dead of night, a coach draws up. Who
now ? For whom do the turnkeys assemble
and the lanterns gleam on gallery and stair ?

It is the good Abbe Prieur, state prisoner of
Louis XV.

"The Abbe had invented a kind of short-
hand, which he thought would be of some use
to the ministry. But the ministry would none
of it, and the Abbe made known his little
invention to the King of Prussia, a patron
of such profitable things. But one of his
letters was opened at the post-office by the
Cabinet Noir, and the next morning Monsieur
Abbe Prieur awoke in the dungeon of Vincennes.
He inquired the reason, and in the course of
months his letter to the King of Prussia was
shown to him.

' But I can explain that in a moment,' said
the Abbe. ' Look, here is the translation.'

The hieroglyphs, in short, were as innocent
as a verse of the Psalms ; but the Abbe Prieur
never quitted his dungeon."

Here is another story — ^racy of the time :

" A venerable and worthy nobleman, M.
Pompignan de Mirabelle, was imprudent
enough to repeat at a supjier party some
satirical verses he had heard touching Mme. de
Pompadour and De Sartines, the chief of police.
Warned that De Sartines had filled in his name
on a lettre de cachet, M. de Mirabelle called at
the police office, and asked to what prison he
should betake himself. ' To Vincennes,' said
De Sartines.

' To Vincennes,' repeated M. de Mirabelle to
his coachman, and he arrived at the dungeon
before the order for his detention.

Once a year De Sartines made a formal visit
to Vincennes, and once a year punctually he
demanded of M. de Mirabelle the name of thi'
author of the verses. ' If I knew I should not
tell you,' was the invariable reply ; ' but as a
matter of fact I never heard it in my Ufe.' ,
M. de Mirabelle died in Vincennes a very old
man."

It is impossible to read of such arrests and
incarcerations without a sort of admiration
for the tremendous power of the king to
imprison, and the security with which a
prisoner, lodged on a word, might be
retained all liis life. In the matters of
security and hopelessness of escape Mr. Hop-
kins awards the palm to Vincennes, whose
architect, he says, " was up some half-hour
earlier than the architect of the Bastille."
Impenetrable walls, door after door sheathed
in iron, galleries from which sentries over-
looked every avenue of escape, towers tliat
commanded miles of coimtry — such were tho
equipments of this last home of "audacity
in high places," this foul witness to
the murder of the Due d'Enghieu. The
solitude within Vincennes extended outside'
its walls.

' ' The sentries had orders to turn the eyes o;
every passer-by from the dungeon towers. Nc
one might stand or draw breath in the shado\\
of Vincennes. It might be a relative or s
friend seeking to learn in what exact cell thi
cai^tive was lodged. From light to dusk thi
sentry reiterated his changeless f ormida : ' Passf
outre cluiiiin !"'

And yet within the walls there was ai
odd freedom. Prisoners could give trouble
could get their own way. Mirabeau wa
a match — considering the odds — for tha
most brutal of the governors of Vincennes
De Eougemont. "Night or day he g^V'
his gaoler no peace." He wanted a table
knife. You would think it was a questioi
of Yes or No. But Mirabeau spent " fou
months in altercation with De Eougemont'
about that table-knife, and got it at last

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

He clamoured for his trunk, his clothes,
his linen. Refused paper, he tore fly-leaves
from prison books, and wrote his quivering
sentences on Lettres de Cachet^ and hid them
in his coat, and not all the king's horses
nor all the king's men kept them from being
printed. He wrote a letter of many pages
to De Rougemont demanding a looking-
glass for his toilet, and got it. He roared
for freedom itself, and won it.

If Vincennes excels all the other old
French prisons in strength, Bicetre for
horror ! It was half a lunatic asylum, half
a gaol for beggars and ' ' young men worn
out by debauchery." A third element was
not long wanting. Granted a roomy prison,
political prisoners were sure to be provided
— the lettren dt cachet were innumerable as
flies in August. Horrible shades! where
" now and again the warders and attendants
amused themselves by organising a pitched
battle between the ' mad side ' and tho
'prison side'"; the wounded were easily
transferred to the infirmary, the dead were
as easily packed into the trench beneath the
walls." So awful were the tales that leaked
through the chinks and doors of the Bicetre
that this Paris prison, round which free
men and women circulated, under whose
walls little children danced in the street,
became peopled, in the popidar imagination,
with " imps, evil genii, sorcerers, and shape-
less monsters compounded of men and
beasts." The Bicetre's blackest day dawned
on Sunday, September 2, 1792, when, says
Carlyle, " all France leaps distracted like
the winnowed Sahara waltzing in sand
colonnades." Each prison of Paris had its
massacre, but the accounts of the massacre
at the Bicetre are contradictory. The
fog of slaughter was too thick and foul
for anything clear to emerge. One turns
with reUef to the far different scene at the
Sainte-Pelagie on this same Sunday of
blood and bell-ringing. " Citizens," cried
the heroic governor Buchotte to the pike-
bearing mob, " you arrive too late. My
prisoners are gone. They got warning of
your coming, and after binding my wife and
myself as you see us, they made their
i escape." It was one of the noble lies of
I history. The prisoners were all in their
I cells. The binding was a ruse. But the
I mob had not time to doubt, and it swept
on its way.

' Sabite-Polagie swarmed with debtors.
' Among these was a kindly hearted Croesus,
; who had refused to pay a certain debt for
'conscience' sake. This was the American,
I Colonel Swan, the good genius of the place.
j His little remembered acts of kindness and
; of love make Sainte-Pelagie fragrant. Many
I a small debtor left the prison, free," after
,five minutes' talk with Colonel Swan. To
I one such man, who asked to be his sen-ant
I for six francs a month, the Colonel replied :
|"ThatwiU suit me very well, here is five
lyears' pay in advance." It was the amoxmt
[of the man's debt, and he went weeping
[back to freedom.

But such relieving touches are as Little
I squares of sunlight on the paved floor of a
[cell where hope dies daily. One horror
jlinks all these prisons together, till they
form a bad dream of humanity. In some
cells of the Conciergerie the prisoners

had to shield their faces, leaving their
bodies to the rats. Fevers stalked the
wards, aided by drunken turnkeys and
careless doctors. Vincennes had abysses
for those whose lettres de cachet were in-
scribed "Pour etre oublii:' The cells of the
Chatelet were infested with reptiles, and
received air only from above; "there was
no current, but only, as it were, a stationary
column of air, which barely allowed the
prisoners to breathe." But enough. It is
well to read of such things once in a way.
But if you lay down Mr. Hopkins's book
late in the evening — take a walk before
you sleep, prove your liberty; else your
dream-land may be the Question Chamber
of the Conciergerie.

A TRADES UNIONIST CYCLOPAEDIA.

rndiistrial Democracy. By Sidney and
Beatrice Webb. (Longmans, Green, &

Co.)

An immense amount of wild and random
speaking and writing on the Engineers'
Strike would have been saved if this book
had been published six months ago. Such
an inside view of the aims and methods of
modem Trades Unionism has never before
been furnished to the public. The authors
have spared no pains in the collection of
their facts. By the study of documents,
by interviewing employers. Trades Union
offieials, and workmen, and by jiersonal ob-
servation— in Mrs. "Webb's case as a "rent-
collector, a tailoress, and a working-class
lodger in working-class families " — they
have accumulated a mass of authentic in-
formation which renders the book indis-
pensable to the legislator, the journalist,
and the social student.

Save for the too frequent sneers at the
" middle-class man," whom Mr. and Mrs.
Webb appear to regard as a soulless
creature, incapable even of understanding
their arguments, much less of appreciating
them, the tone and temper of the book are
excellent. Naturally it is written with a
strong Trades Unionist bias ; but there is
no endeavour to suppress inconvenient facts.
Indeed, a clever advocate, using no other
data than are to be found in it, might
construct a very powerful indictment against
the principles and practices of modem Trades
Unionism.

The very interesting chapter on " The
Higgling of the Market " would provide
such an advocate with one of his points.
The authors point out that the tendency
towards a reduction of wages in certain
trades is due to the pressure exercised
upon the retail trader — and through him
upon the wholesale trader, the manu-
facturer, and, finally, upon the workman —
by the consumer who desires to buy in the
cheapest market. But they do not point
out, even if they perceive it, that consumer
and workman are in reality one, and that it
is his desire qua consumer to buy cheaply
which causes his wages qua workman to
fall. The decline and ultimate disappear-
ance of the hand-loom weavers is contrasted

with the survival and aggrandisement of
the hand-made-paper maker and the hand-
made-boot maker. Mr. and Mrs. Webb
attribute it to the fact that the hand-
loomers cut down their prices to compete
with the new machines, while the boot-
makers and papermakers insisted on main-
taining theirs. That, no doubt, is partly
the reason, but may it not also have
been due to tho fact that the papermakers
and shoemakers produced something which
the machine could not imitate, while the
hand-loomers did not? The authors, in-
deed, appear to hold that the higher the
wages asked for by the workman the more
workmen will be employed ; which is quite
contrary to the view of the despised middle-
class man, who is under the impression that
it is not so much what a man earns as what
he produces that encourages the employment
of others.

Every man, however, who reads the book
can form his own conclusions on this and
other vexed questions. The important thing
is that the authors have provided such an
ample array of facts, so carefully collated
and arranged, that even the general reader
can find interest in a subject which has
hitherto been attractive in inverse proportion
to its importance. In so doing Mr. and
Mrs. Webb have deserved well of their
generation.

IN SOUTHERN SEAS.

Wild Life in Southern Seas. By Louis
Becke. (T. Fisher Unwin.)

This is a book of sketches, written with
that intimate knowledge and humorous ex-
pression of life in the South Sea Islands
which have made the reputation of the
author, and you will not read them without
a longing to " excede, evade, erump " at
once to one of those enchanted islets where
it is always afternoon ; where a man need
not toil or spin, and may look back on a
fair day's work when he has sat on the beach
with hibiscus flowers in his hair, smoking
cigarettes and playing the concertina. For
exercise you raay fahahelle, which is Samoan
for surf • swimming, the game which "takes
possession of your innermost soul like unto
cycling and golf"; and when you read
Mr. Becke's sketch of "A Noble Sea
Game " you will wtait to fahahelle very much
indeed. They are absurd, irresponsible
people, these South Sea Islanders ; good-
natured too, for even a cannibal may be a
pleasant companion between meals ; and
their language is delightful. A little girl
is a tama-fafine-toatsi.

As a specimen sketch, take the paper on
" My Native Soi-vants." Mr. Becke, landing
on Nine — which has rightly lost its formet
name of Savage Island — stepped into his
new house, and

"there, sitting on the floor in solemn silence,
with their backs to the wall, were about fifty
women. They had come to seek the post of
nurso to tho white man's trtma-fafiiie-toahi .
On being requested to clear out, they said

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 22, 1898.

' they would come again in the morning with
somefriemh, and talk the matter over.' "

Moemoo, the cook, was a promising young
man. When shown the kitchen "he said
' AU right,' sat down on a stool, and, asking
me for mj' tobacco pouch, began to fill his
pipe." Left to himself, Moemoe appears
to have forgotten that he was a cook, but
remembered that he was a man :

" At noon I went out to the cook-Louse to
see how my chefwms getting on. He had taken
ofF his coat and shirt, but was still sitting down,
playing an accordion to an audience of a dozen
young women, all more or less in a state of
Mshubille—even for Niue women."

Nine women ! The phrase sounds familiar
even on this side of the world.

Hakala was engaged as head nurse,
because she was a widow. But it was
soon found that Hakala had two children,
to say nothing of a husband, all of whom
she wished to share her mat in her master's
house. But Hakala was nothing to Hakupu,
the nursemaid, who tied the white man's
tama fafine-toatsi on her back, and balanced
herself on the edge of the coral reef.
Hakupu was soundly whipped, but she
had her consolations :

"We heard the mm-mur of voices from the
cook-house. "Walking softly over, I peeped in
through the window. The place was in semi-
darkness, but there was still enough light to fill
me with wrath at what I saw. There, stretched
upon the floor, face down, was the under-nm-sc,
supporting her chin upon her hands, a cigarette
in her mouth, and that villain of a Moemoe
lubricating her glossy browu back with a
freshly opened tin of my Danish butter, into
which he now and agaiu thrust his fingers."

But this island of innocent, deceitful,
genial, and altogether delightfully improper
people, has its drawbacks. Literally, as
well as metaphorically, there are flies on
the Niue natives.

" You meet a native. He looks like a
j>erambulating figure composed of flies. As
he passes he gives himself a vigorous brush
with a branch he carries. You do the same.
Two black clouds arise and assimilate, and then
divide forces. If the native is a bigger man
than you, he gets most."

Missionaries, too, have not been an un-
mixed blessing to the South Sea Islanders.
Mr. Becke has many good words to say for
individual missionaries ; but he is very
severe on them in one matter. They insist
that their converts shall wear clothes.
Compulsory clothing has begotten con-
sumption and other pulmonary disorders
which have almost depopulated some of the
islands. Wild Life in Soutfmrti Seas is
not exclusively humorous. " Hino the
Apostate " is as pathetic as anyone could
wish. And here and there the author has
inserted slabs of information — geographical,
geological, and otherwise. These may be
skipped by the judicious reader in search of
amusement. But of .amusement he will find
plenty. For no one has written with such
knowledge and humour of the Southern
Seas since "The Earl and the Doctor"
wrote South Sea Bubbles, and that must be a
quarter of a century ago.

BRIEFER MENTION.

Tfw Prince of Wales: An Account of his
Career, including his Birth, Education,
Travels, Marriage, and Home Life ; and
Philanthropic, Social and Political Work.
(Grant Eichards.)

AS this elegant tome has been reviewed at
length in the daily papers, we presume
it has a popular interest: literary merit it
has none. It is a conscientious but tiresome
narrative reconstructed from old newspaper
articles, paragraphs and memoirs, inter-
spersed with venerable pictures and portraits.
Here is a specimen sentence, a portentous
announcement, taken at random. " When
dinner is over His Eoyal Highness gives a
signal for smoking to begin, then an ad-
journment is made to the large drawing-
room." The cover of the book is rather
pretty. It would make a nice present for —
say, a lady who keeps a Berlin-wool shop.

A Bidionary of English, Authors. By E.
Farquharson Sharp. (Eodway.)

The design of this book of reference is a
happy one. Mr. Sharj) treats of 700 living
and dead British authors, and to each
devotes from one to three columns of space,
in which he gives as tersely as possible the
leading facts of their biographies, and a
chronological list of their works and of the
most important works about them. But the
value of such a compilation must, of course,
depend upon its absolute accuracy, even in
minor details, and we regret to find that,
judged by such tests as we have applied,
Mr. Sharp is not, so far at least as literary
history is concerned, absolutely accurate. Let
us look, for example, at two sixteenth century
writers. The first is Henry Vaughan.
Mr. Sharp, in a half-column notice, spells
the poet's birthplace as Skethiog instead of
Skethrog, and states that he matriculated at
Jesus College, Oxford, in 1628. Probably
he did not matriculate at Jesus at all ; but
if he did, it was certainly not in 1628, as
he was then only six years old. Slips,
perhaps, but then a slippery biographical
dictionary is not of much use. We turn to
John Donne, and the errors become more
magnificent. Mr. Sharp attributes to Donne
two works which were not his. The Bomie's
Satyr of 1662 was by his son, who was
inconvenient enough to have the same
Christian name ; and The Collection of Letters
of 1660 was edited by the same son and
made by Sir Toby Matthews. A few only of
the letters in it are of Donne's writing.
Then Isaak Walton cannot have edited an
edition of Donne's Poetical Works in 1779,
for he had been dead the greater part of a
century ; and we have some doubt whether
Dr. Hannah did so in 1843 or Sir John
Simeon in 1858. At any rate, those editions
are not in the British Museum, nor have we
come across them elsewhere. So far as
living writers are concerned, Mr. Sharp
appears to have obtained most of his in-
formation from themselves : his list is fairly
complete, but considering who are included,
Mr. Stopford Brooke, Mr. A. H. BuUen,
Mr. Sidney Lee, Mr. Francis Thompson,
Dr. Grosart, and a good many others ought

not to have been left out. We suppose that
Mr. George Meredith did not authorise Mr.
Sharj) to include among his novels one
called Mary Bertrand which a Mr. Francia
Meredith published in 1860.

Chambers's Biographical Dictionary. Edited
by David Patrick, LL.D., and Francis
Hindes Groome. (W. & E. Chambers.)

The sub-title of this book—" The Great of
All Times and Ages " — had been hotter
omitted. Too many small men of the i
present time are included — men who have
no pretensions to greatness. The volume
contains eccentricities and flippancies which
are frankly claimed as virtues by the
editors :

" The world's Upper Ten Thousand, these
mainly ; still, the lower, even the lowest, have
not been wholly neglected. For we include
assassins like Abd-ul-Hamid and Ravachol,
knaves like Arthur Orton and Jabez Balfour,
madmen like Herostratus and Nietziche, im-
postors like Joseph Smith and Mme. Blavatsky,
traitors Uke Pickle the Spy and Benedict
Arnold, tagrag and bobtail — every other page
offers examples."

But with all its faults, if these be faults,
this Biographical Dictionary strikes us as
being very well done. It is wonderfully
comprehensive ; and after testing a great
many of the articles we can pronounce them
both useful and accurate. Shakespeare
receives 4J columns — the longest notice.
Napoleon I. gets a quarter of a column
less. Wordsworth has ^k columns. Nelson
has 2} columns, Wellington the same.
Voltaire 2 columns, Milton the same, Cowper
the same, Mohammed the same. Cardinal
Newman \\ columns, Euskin the same.
The entries are well up to date, though in
their desire to make them so the editors
describe Mr. Bernard Shaw's Plays as having
been published in 1897, whereas we still
await them. On the other hand, it is grati-
fying to find under the name of George
Thomson, the friend of Bums, the reference,
" See his correspondence, edited by Cuthbert
Hadden, 1898." Mr. Hadden's book has
just been published. Great families, as
well as individuals, are treated ; thus three
useful and informing columns are given to
the house of Stuart. Difficult notices wliich
we have examined strike us as very,
justly written. Such a man as George Fox,
the founder of Quakerism, affords a good
test, and we find his career summarised
sanely and fairly. We note that Mr.
Jerome K. Jerome is described, without
further explanation, as " the founder of the
'New Humour.'" This is a meaningless
statement even to his intelligent contem-
poraries ; what will it be to posterity ?
If Mr. Jerome had really founded a new
humour in the serious sense of the words,
we should not have expected his notice to
be shorter than that of the saint of the
same name.

Of course there are omissions. Mr. B.
W. Leader was as eligible for mention as
scores of other living men who are given a
place. We note also that John Thomas
Smith, whose biography of Nollekens and
topographical works on London entitled him
to mention, is ignored.

THE ACADEMY

FICTION SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

The War of the Worlds.

By H. G. Wells.

Hebe in volume form is Mr. Wells's narrative of the terrific attempt
made by certain of tlio inhabitants of Mars to conquer this little
world of oiu's. The story, as everybody knows, ran through
Pearson'' 8 Magazine last year, where, indeed, many read it who usually
find serial fiction tiresome. Since then Mr. Wells has altered and
re- written much of the story. The dedication runs thus : "To my
brother Frank WeUs, this rendering of his idea." (W. Heinemann.
303 pp. 6s.)

The Triu.mph of Death. By Gabriele d'Annunzio.

A TRANSLATION by Georgina Harding — the first English translation
of this remarkable example of d'Anmmzio's genius. Certain
passages have been toned down where the author's point of view
was a little too fresh for English readers. The Triumph of Death
has had a great vogue in Italy and France. (W. Heinemann.
315 pp. 68.)

De. DumXny's Wife.

By Maukus J6kai.

A TB.\NSLATiON, by F. Steinitz, from the Hungarian. This is that
I bugbear of some readers — a story within a story. It Ibegins with
I a railway accident, luridly described, in which the narrator saves
Ithe life of a millionaire's son. The boy is carried to his father's
arms in Paris, and the same evening the millionaire tells the
rescuer the history of his life. It begins on page 68 and continues
until page 308, and is sufficiently surprising. But we do not care
for this indirect method of making romances. (Jarrold & Sons.
312 pp. 6s.)

John Gilbert, Yeoman. By E. G. Soans.

|A. ROMANCE of the Commonwealth. It is also a romance of Sussex ;
jis much, we fancy, because its exemplar, Lorna Boone, was a
|romance of Exmoor, as for any other reason. John Gilbert,
'Yeoman, writes the story in the first person, and is pleasantly
jirchaic the while. "Hath" for "has" and " wi'" for "with"
md "o*" for "of" and "'tis" for " it is "—these are among his
terbal tricks. His bailiff was one Alfred Mynns, which good
llientish cricketers may resent. There are plenty of hard knocks,
|joth in battle and out of it, in the book ; aye, marry, and there are
j:omely wenches too. A pretty enough piece of Wardour-street
I'omance for those that have leisure. (Wame & Co. 488 pp. 68.)

IChe Confession of Stephen Whapshare.

By Emma Brooke.

|l NEW novel by the author of A Superfluous Woman is not lightly
p be set aside. Here we have a woman who was more than
uperfluous — a positive hindrance — " a woman with a dead soul."
ler husband (who tells the story) endured her for seven years, and
jien could endure her no longer ; for another woman — a woman
'ith a Hill-top soul — had come into his life. So he administered a
jouble dose of chloral and spent the rest of his life in good works.
'Hutchinson & Co. 297 pp. 6s.)

By B. M. Croker.

iTiss Balmaine's Past.

story of love, misunderstanding, sorrow, re-understanding, and
,ve again. The hero is at first an engineer and ultimately a lord,
ihe heroine is Eosamund of Eomney Marsh. They are brought
kgether not by a mad bull, but by a tramp, who does just as well.
, facile, glib holiday book. According to one of the fly-leaves of
W volume Mrs. Croker's novels now total sixteen. (Chatto &
findus. 325 xjp. 6s.)

The Fourth Napoleon. By Charles Benham,

A long-winded but very dexterous romance of modem political life
in France. The hero is Walter Sadler, a young barrister, with a
phenomenal resemblance to the first Napoleon. In the year 189 — ,
weary and dispirited, he seeks Paris, and is there taken for a
veritable Buonaparte and elevated to the dignity of king. The
story gives his adventures among a company of unscrupulous
intriguers. One needs a week's holiday to read the book, but there
wiU be entertainment on the way. (Heinemann. 600 pp. 6s.)

The Gown and the Man.

By Preston St. George.

An historical novel. The period, it is scarcely necessary to say, is
Stuart. John Hampden's denunciation of ship-money begins it,
and the execution of Charles comes at the end. There is also one
Colonel Cromwell. In the interim Puritanism is discussed as fully
as any reader can want. A quiet, serious story. (Digby, Long
& Co. 345 pp. 68.)

The Cedar Star.

By Mary E. Mann.

A STUDY of a wilful temperament. The heroine is Betty, who
begins by having her own way as a child, and continues to have
it until soiTow and suffering are hers. A charming book,
beginning with good chapters of child life, and containing memor-
able figures, notably BiUy the curate and Betty herself. Betty
is, indeed, quite a discovery. (Hutchinson & Co. 347 pp. 6s.)

Queens and Knaves.

By Celia Nash.

Here we have modern life with a vengeance. Tlie transpontine
stage offers nothing more chromatic. It is the story of a wicked
Jew, drawn strictly on accepted melodramatic lines, and his victims.
Could his name be anything but Steinsen ? There is the usual run
of triumphant villainy, and then the downfall. What need to say
more? (Digby & Long. 212 pp. 3s. 6d.)

The Man in the Check Suit.

By T. W. H. Dblf

A WORK which, according to the publisher, "will be found to
appeal to the masculine rather than the feminine reader " ; because,
"for once in away, 'Love' plays but a small and subordinate
part." In place of "Love" we have provincial humours, the
punishment of fraud, and the restitution of rights. The man in the
chock suit is an unknown benefactor, of a kind familiar to the
readers of Dickens. If there is no distinction of style or thought in
the book, there is plenty of compensating high spirits. (Jarrold
& Sons. 317 pp. 6s.)

A Chapter of Accidents. By Mrs. Hugh Fraseb.

A SMART, worldly story of a widow's infatuation for a young man
whose debts and discretion bid fair for a long time to forbid him
marrying either well or badly. In the end, or rather in the middle
of the story, the worldly widow realises the hopelessness of her
suit. " I've made a mistake ; but I'U never make any more. I'U
leave you alone to your heart's content in futuro, and we'll put up
the shutters in the sentiment shop." And they do, but meanwhile
the author has started another love affair of a more idyllic kind,
and in this case the shutters remain down. (Macmulan & Co.
251 pp. 6s.)

The Story of the Beautiful Girl
Who was Hated by Hee Own
Father. And Other Tales.

By a Barrister.

Six stories of wrongful conviction, quashed wills, attempted murder,
conspiracy, &c. We do not know why "a Barrister" gives the
stories such needlessly long titles. They are all named on the pattern
of the first. (Horace Cox. 109 pp. Is.)

THE ACADEMY FICTION SUPPLEMENT.

[Jaw. 22, 1898.

By Mks. Lovett Cameron.

Devil's Apples.

This is a simple, moving story by the author of In a Grass
Country and A Soul Astray. The headings of the four parts ot
the story— Eenunciation, Temptation, Degradation, Expiation—
tell much. And it is all foreordained that Jenny MaxweU s hair
shaU be sprinkled with grey, and that " no hospital in London, ^^
" no poverty-stricken slum," shall be without her " gentle presence
when the " lover of her youth " returns " very quietly one wet
afternoon in November." (F. V. White & Co. 302 pp. 6s.)

REVIEWS.

Derelicts. By William J. Locke.
(John Lane.)

This is a really fine novel. Its theme is mainly the sad one of two
lives — one wrecked by crime, the other by Ulness and misfortune-
finding, rescuing, and protecting each other. Stephen Joyce is
a man of education who has given way to the temptations of debt.
He has committed fraud, and has suffered two years' imprisonment.
The story takes him upon his emergence from prison — hopeless,
full of the profoundest self-contempt. It follows him in his painful
quest for employment, and shows him in the direst straits of poverty
befriended, to his amazement, by a little warm-hearted concert-
singer. She coaxes up the dormant fires of ambition and self-
confidence by the mere breath of her child-like and happy
sympathy. Yvonne's relations to Stephen throughout the book
are touched with the most delicate and gentle feeling. She is all
pity, all trust, to this outcast, the struggles of whose weak
will are so arduous. She becomes little by little the light of
his eyes, yet in the most natural way in the world never looks on
him as a lover. Thus she slips into marriage with his cousin,
a dignified and worthy ecclesiastic, consenting she scarce knows
why:

" ' Yvonne would gfive any m»n her head, if he whimpered or
clamoured for it,' continued Geraldine, rising to her feet, ' and then
tell you in her pathetic way, "But he wanted it so, dear." And there
isn't a man living who would be good enough to Yvonne.' "

What strikes one as of peculiar excellence is the skiU with which
Mr. Locke, in portraying the soft and sympathetic nature of Yvonne,
has avoided the facile error of conveying that she is all an amiable
passivity. When the final crisis arrives (the supreme crisis that
calls for determinate action in all of us sooner or later in our lives),
Yvonne, tender, yielding-natured as a child, takes her courage in
both hands, and with not a qualm goes forth to inflict deadly pain
on behalf of the man she loves. When she did not love, but merely
liked and respected, she was passive, and allowed herself to be
married to a man in whose society, after six months, she felt herself
small, wicked, and bored. 0 to exchange the dull routine of a
cathedral town and rectory for a month of the old, easy, irregular
Bohemianism of a concert-singer's flat in town! "And, oh, Dina,"
she confides to her intimate friend, " I should so much like to hear
a man say ' damn ' again ! "

A quotation from an interview with this friend will best illustrate
Mr. Locke's manner, and the situation at the rectory after Yvonne's
marriage with the Canon.

" ' I don't think you would do very well married, Dina,' says
Yvonne. ' You are too iudepeudeut. A woman has to give in so much,
you know, and do so much pretending, which you could never do.'

' And why pretend f '

' Oh, I don't know. You have to — in lots of things. I suppose we
women were bom for it. Men have all kinds of strange feelings, and
they expect us to have the same, and we haven't, Dina ; and yet they
would be hurt and miserable if we told them so — so we have to pretend.'

Geraldine looked at her with an expression of pain on her strong face,
and then she bent down — Yvonne was on a low stool at her side — and
flung her arms about her. ' Oh, my dear little philosopher, I wish to
God you coiUd have loved a man — and married him ! That is happiness —
no need of pretending. I knew it once — years ago. It only lasted a few
mouths, for he died before we announced our marriage — no one has ever
known. Only you, dear, now. Try and love your husband, dear ; give
him your soul and passion. It is the only thing I can tell you to help
you, dear. Then all the troubles will go. Oh, darling, to love a man
vehemently — they say it is a woman's greatest curse. It isn't ; it is the
greatest blessing of God on her.'

' You are speaking as men have spoken,' replied Yvonne, in a whisper,
holding her friend's hand tightly. ' I never knew before — but God will
never bless me — like that.' "

Nevertheless, Yvonne is blessed in the end.

# * * #

Weeping Ferry, and Other Stories. By Margaret L. Woods.

(Longmans.)

Is Weeping Ferry Mrs. Woods returns to the pastoral motive of
her first powerful book, A Village Tragedy. That she quite succeeds
in recapturing the note of that poignant and uncompromising bit
of realism we should hesitate to say; yet the present story is
certainly, neither in structure nor setting, unworthy of its writer.
Like its predecessor, the tale passes in the quiet Midland country
near Oxford, with its sluggish river, and its elms, and its water-
meadows. Long Marston, with its famous ferry, is the precise
locality chosen. The landscape and the life it shrouds are treated
in the delicately observant way so characteristic of Mrs. Woods.
There is little or none of that atmosphere of mingled antiquity and
pagan sensuousness which Mr. Hardy loves to throw about his
peasants, the characters are plain country men and women, natural
and life-like, fuU of the practical common sense so inevitable in a
life where bread is won quite literally by the sweat of one's brow.
Both points of view are true ; it is merely that one is Mr. Hardy's,
the other Mrs. Woods'. A touch of the uncanny is introduced in the
old deaf Catherine, said to be a witch by the villagers, and resorted to
for charms and spells. She it is who supplies Bessie with a so-called
" love-charm " whereby to win back her lost gentleman lover. We
confess that we should have liked the book better without the bit of
superstition, a thing so difficult to render plausible in a novel, and
surely at best disputable art. The love-story itself is well enough,
although the hero, Geoffrey Meade, the young man lodging at the
farm, and ostensibly "reading," is somewhat colourless. But to
our mind the charm in the book is Bessie's mother, the shrewd,
tender-hearted, bustling, market-woman, with her capable hand
and secret heart. Her colloquy with Tryphena, a child of whom
we would gladly know more, is irresistible :

" ' Mrs. Vyne,' said Tryphena imperiously.

Elizabeth measured the dough on the board with her eye and pulled a
bit off before she repUed :

' Yes, Miss Tryphena.'

' Why is blue cheese blue ? '

Mrs. Vyne deposited the superfluous dough in the big red pan at her
side, and powdered the remainder with flour. Then she answered
mildly :

' Some folks do say it's the stuff that's put in it.'

' But you don't put stuff in yours, do you ? '

' Oh, dear, no, Miss,' and Mrs. Vyne smUed.

' Then why is it blue '^ '

Mrs. Vyne passed the roUing-pin over the dough several times.

' Other folks say it's the land,' she replied at length, with the same
mild impartiality.

' But you made it the same when you were at the Meades, didn't you .-'
So what makes it blue ? '

' There's folks do say 'tis the season of the year,' returned Mrs. Vyne,
carefully shaping the two balls uf her loaf ; then clapping the smaller
one firmly on to the larger, she added with sudden frank contempt:
' But they none of 'em knows what they're talkin' about.' "

Bessie Vyne's story is a sad one. Her love-charm proved to be
a poison, and she is found dead one wild night at the door of the
witch's cottage. She is well and patiently drawn throughout, yet
we feel that the charm of the book is less in the narrative or the
characters than in the background — the sentiment of the externid
things that gird in life. The scene where Bessie's botly is carried
back to the farm is a fine bit of writing :

"At break of day they brought her home across the fields. The
floods were no longer vapourously still under a grey sky. A fresh
breeze bent the willows and hurried the surface of the water along in
tiny crests that caught the hght. An orange sunset shot up its ragged
edges half-way to the zenith, and reflected itself on the distant water m
obscure yellow. The body was laid on a low truck, which was just long
enough for it, and covered -vvith a sheet. Elizabeth dragged it and
Catharine assisted with her hand on the shaft of the handle. So"ie-
times she looked back, sometimes peered in Elizabeth's face, wth a look
half sympathetic, half terrified."

The three shorter stories which make up the book call for little
comment. " An Episode " has most stuff in it. " Miss Brighteyes
and Mr. Queer " is on the verge of silliness.

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 1898.

No. i342, New Series.

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Offices : 43, Chancery Lane, W. C.

NOTES AND NEWS.

A METHODICAL correspondent who has
a passion for preserving literary odds
jiind ends, and a capacity for finding them
iwhen needed, sends us the following ad-
vertisement. It was forwarded wholesale
through the post by Lewis Carroll at the
end of the year 1893 :

" For over twenty-five years I have made it
my chief object, with regard to my books, that
they should be of the best workmanship attain-
able for the price. And I am deeply annoyed
Ito find that the last issue of Through the
\Lo6king-Glasa, consisting of the Sixtieth Thou-
sand, has been put on sale without its being
luoticed that most of the pictures have failed so
imuch in the printing as to make the book not
tworth buying. I request all holders of copies
Ito send them to Messrs. Macmillan & Co.,
i29, Bedford-street, Covent Garden, with their
Barnes and addresses ; and copies of the next

issue shall be sent them in exchange.
Instead, however, of destroying the unsold
;opie8, I propose to utilise them by giving
j.hem away to mechanics' institutes, village
I'eading-rooms, and similar institutions where
|he means for jjurchasing such books are scanty.
'Vccordiugly, I invite applications for such
jfifts, addressed to me, ' care of Messrs.
rfacmiUan.' Eveiy such application should
lie signed by some responsible person, and
hould state how far they are able to buy books
jr themselves, and what is the average number
f readers.
I take this opportunity of announcing that,
.it any futiue time I should wish to com-
jmnicate anything to my readers, I will do so
'y advertising in the ' agony ' column of some
■ the daily papers on the first Tuesilay in the
•'III- Lewis Cabeoll.

Christmas, 1893."

A coRUEsrosTDENT Writes: "I read with
iterest your ' Book Eeviews Eeviewed '
jlumns every week ; and it may interest
jme of your readers to know how Alice in
Yonderhiiid was received on its first appear-

ance. I cannot discover that its merits were
fuUy perceived, or its success predicted, by
any critic. The Times, reviewing the book
among a dozen other Christmas books, gave
high praise to Mr. Tenniel's drawings, but
concerning Lewis CarroU's text only re-
marked that it was ' an excellent piece of
nonsense.' The Spectator did not, I think,
review the book at all on its first appearance.
The Athenceum indulged, of course, in a
little dragon-slaying :

"This is a dream-story; but who can, in
cold blood, manufacture a dream with all its
loops and ties, and loose threads, and entangle-
ments, and inconsistencies, and passages which
lead to nothing, at the end of which Sleep's
most dUigent pilgrim never arrives. Mr.
Carroll has laboured hard to heap together
strange adventures and heterogeneous combina-
tions, and we acknowledge the hard labour.
Mr. Tenniel, again, is square and grim and
uncouth in his illustrations, howbeit clever,
even sometimes to the verge of grandeur, as is
the artist's habit. We fancy that any real
child might be more puzzled than enchanted
by this stiff, overwrought story."

In his sermon at Christ Church, Oxford,
on Sunday morning, Canon Sanday, Mar-
garet Professor of Divinity, referred to the
death of Lewis Carroll. We quote a few
words :

" Might they not say that from their courts
at Cbrist Church there had flowed into the
literature of their own time a rill bright and
sparkhug, healthgiving, and purifying wherever
its waters extended? . . . They in that place
knew how fully the man bore out the promise
of his books. . . . They knew his fondness
for children and what trouble he took to make
them happier and better. But, most of all,
they knew what was the fount and spring from
which all these varied activities took their
direction. They knew how behind them all
there lay a deep background of religion — a
reUgion severely quiet and retiring, like his
character — a religion almost of the closet after
the pattern of the Gospel."

Mr. Dodgson's own manner as a preacher
was earnest and slow. For several years
he delivered the New Year sermon at St.
Mary's, Guildford.

Lewis Carroll was as fortunate in his
illustrations as any writer could be. Under
any circumstances the Alice books would
have won tremendous favour, but not a
little of tlieir popularity must, none the less,
be due to Sir Jolin Tenniel's drawings.
Artist and author have rarely been in such
perfect accord. Again, in The limiting of tlie
Siiarh, Mr. Henry Holiday is the poet's very
faithful and admirable ally, catching the
spirit of the nonsense to perfection. His
beaver, looking "unaccountably shy," is the
prince of beavers. And in Sylvie and Bruno,
Mr. Furniss did some of his best work.
One reason of this high level of excel-
lence is undoubtedly Lewis Carroll's interest
and desire to have everything quite "right,"
and according to liis own ideas. Of no
man may it more truly be said that until he
was satisfied he was dissatisfied.

Liddell — died within four days of the
author of the Wonderland books. Dean
LiddeU's name will ever be associated with
that of Dr. Scott, Jowett's predecessor as
Master of Balliol, for their invaluable
lexicon. The fame of Liddell and Scott is
inextinguishable. It may not here be out
of place to tell again an old story of Dean
LiddeU and an undergraduate. " What
Sophocles do you know ? " the Dean asked.
" Oh, I know aU Sophocles," was the
answer. "Really! I wish I could say the
same." The victim began to translate
"Where did you get that from?" asked
the Dean with reference to a " howler.''
"Oh, LiddeU and Scott." "Then," said
Liddell with much gravity, "it was Dr.
Scott's doing and not mine."

France is just now offering the spectacle
of M. Zola standing almost alone as the
champion of justice. It is a fine thing when
a man of age and reputation can place
public spirit before private welfare. When
the champion is a writer literary men all
over the world may justly feel proud.

On this subject Mr. F. Norreys Connell
writes : ' ' May I suggest that it would be
a gracef id act on the part of the literary men
of Britain publicly to thank M. Zola for the
splendid civic action he has lately taken?
Though it be of little moment to us in these
islands whether a Semite or Aryan should
have sought to enrich himself at the expense
of French militarism, surely it comes very
near to our professional pride that the one
g^eat citizen who dares in the teeth of
popular prejudice, at the imminent risk of
his commercial ruin, to demand ' more
light' should also be one of the greatest
living brothers of the pen. Traditionally, I
am of the other party, but at this juncture
I esteem it an honour to sign myself M.
Zola's most Humble Admirer."

By one of those curious and not un-
common coincidences, Lewis Carroll's friend,
the fither of the original Alios — Dean

Meanwhile Bjornsterne Bjiirnson has
written to M. Zola in terms of most enthu-
siastic approbation :

" Very honoured Master, —How I envy you !
How I wish that I were in your place, in order
to be able to render to couatry and to humanity
a service like that rendered by you ! ... Be
assured that Europe admires whit you have
done, even if everybody does not assent to
everything that you have iaid. I have always
hold it as an opinion, for my part, that the work
of a romance writer or a poet be irs the same
relation to himself personally as notes do to the
bank whence they are issued, and which should
have in hand securities corresponding to its
deUveries. We now see that if your works are
circulated all over the world to increase courage
and enrich the heart of humauity, it is bacause
you are yourself a mau of courage and of
heart."

Mr. David Christie Murray write,
from Glan y Dow, Pensam, near Abergele :
" By the courtesy of Mr. J. N. Maskelynes
who has generously placed the Egyptian
Hall and his lantern apparatus at my dis-
posal, I shall deliver a lecture on Sunday
evening, the 30th January, on the Dreyfus
case. By the aid of highly magnified photo-

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 22, 1898.

gi-aphic reproductions of the letter attributed
to Captain Dreyfus and of the man's real
handwriting, I hope to prove to demonstra-
tion that they could not by any possibility
have been written by the same hand. This
view is endorsed by twelve of the ablest
experts now living. May I beg you to
publish this letter, and to allow me to say
that any person desiring to attend may
receive a ticket of admission by sending to
me a stamped directed envelope ? "

The approaching arrival of Mr. Eudyard
Kipling at the Cape — the poet must now
be jjassing the Line — is exciting great
interest in South Africa. It is pointed out
that there are already many allusions in his
works to this part of the world. At St.
S'mon's Town the "flat iron" described in
" Judson and the Empire " in Many Inven-
tions, founded on a famous incident on the
Zambesi, is proudly shown. Mr. Kipling's
most striking South African verse is per-
haps :

" To the home of the floods and thimder,

To her pale dry heaty blue —
To lift of the great Cape combers,

And the smell of the baked Karoo.
To the growl of the sluicy stamp-head —

To the reef and the water-gold,
To the last and the largest Empire,

To the map that is half unrolled ! "

In another place he speaks of the Cape's
vineyards, of its heath and lilies, and of
Table Mountain ; and in " The Native
Born " there is the mention of the " Empire
to the northward " and the allusion to the
fashion in which the Cape Colony has
changed owners — " Snatehed and bartered
of the free hand to hand." We understand
that the present is Mr. Eudyard Kipling's
second visit to South Africa.

Apropos of the curious little slip in Duteh
in Mr. Bryoe's South Africa, mentioned last
week, it may be of interest to state that Her
Majesty's High Commissioner for South
Africa adheres to his determination to master
the taal. Sir Alfred MUner is now taking
lessons in Duteh with his private secre-
tary twice a week from the Eev. Adrian
Hofmeyr, of Cape Town.

The quaintest comment upon the
Academy's awards comes from Birmingham.
A writer in the Birmingham Post refuses to
believe in tlie existence of Mr. Phillips.
"Is there," he asks, "a real Mr. Phillips,
or is it only the mystic name conferred by
the Academy on some ethereal and hopeless
ideal? Does it cover a whole theory of
' excellence,' concealed like the darker im-
plications of ' chops and tomato sauce ' ? Is
it a pregnant mode of telling all the others
that their work is but as nothingness ? It
behoves the Academy next to produce Mr.
Phillips as a guarantee of good faith."
Considering that Mr. Phillips is descended
from the Birmingham Quaker family of
IJoyd, Birmingham shoidd know more of
him. The locd booksellers must look to it.

The following extract from a letter, which
we cut from Wednesday's Chronicle, affords

an instance of the woes of poets. In this
case Mr. Stephen PhiUips is the victim :

" SlE, — In a most able and kindly review of
my poems, which appears in to-day's Chronicle,
there are several misquotations, which I cannot
allow to pass. One couplet is quoted thus :

' Fell ; and existence lean, in shy dead-gray,
Without steadily, starved it away ; '

Thus the second line is not only made into non-
sense, but does not even scan. The lines should,
of course, read:

' Fell ; and existence lean in sky dead-g^ey,
Witholding steadily starved it away.' "

To the foregoing complaint the Editor of
the Chronicle appends the following apology :
' ' We greatly regret these misprints, but
the fault is whoUy our reviewer's. As he is
a distinguished critic, Ms ' copy ' was fol-
lowed by the printer without question, and
in every instance it read as the words ap-
peared in our columns." But distinguished
critics are precisely the gentlemen who most
require to see a proof. They write badly,
they do not spell very well, and at making
extracts they are .

Mk. William Gkeen is a bold man. He
sends to the Morning Post the following
letter :

" How to see all the new books is a question
of widespread interest. Readers peruse the
criticisms in the papers, and then desire to see
the books criticised in order to judge whether
to purchase or to order from the library for a
leisurely perusal. To see an attractive book is
to desire either to read it carefully or to possess
it. If readers wish to see all the new books
they must unite in a society for this purpose. I
should be glad to hear from those interested in
the subject."

It is not clear to us why people should be
enabled to see all the new books. They
had better read the old ones. But if they
must see them, why not enter a bookshop
for the purpose ? Although Mr. Green says
that seeing a book is more an incentive to
purchasing it than reading a review thereof,
we imagine that his Society might not un-
fitly bo named " The Society for Completing
the Euin of Booksellers."

We cut from the current Dome the fol-
lowing striking little poem by Mr. Laurence
Binyon, a young and observant poet of
London life :

" The Pakatytic.

" He stands where the young faces pass and
throng ;
His blank eyes tremble in the noonday sun ;
He sees aU life, the lovely and the strong,
Before him run.

" Eager and swift, or group'd and loitering, they
Follow their dreams, on busy errands sped,
Planning delight and triumph ; but all day
He shakes his head."

When Sir Walter Besant praises London
on a platfonu — and he does this very often
—he generally has the good fortune to pro-
voke distinguished opposition. Not long
ago ho said that London is beautiful with
such emphasis that his own chairman, Lord
Eosebery, demurred. Last week, at the
College of Preceptors, he claimed so much
for London's brain that the Bishop of

London rose and declared that London had
produced comparatively few distinguished
men of her own. The bishop quoted the
opinion of Dr. Stubbs that London had always
been the purse, seldom the head, andnover the
heart of England. And now the names of
lots of distinguished Londoners are being sent
to newspaper offices. London produced :

Chaucer.

Spenser.

Pope.

Seats.

Browning.

It is true that many writers of great abiUty
still elect to be born in the country ; but
they nearly aU come to London to write the
moment it is worth their while.

Canning.

Fox.

Lamb.

Beaconsfield

Milton.

Ruskin.

Gray.

Byron.

Turner.

A quaint and unexpected glimpse of
Mark Twain is afforded in Mr. Alfred P.
Ilillier's newly published liaid aiid Reform,
in a chapter consisting of extracts from a
diary kept by Mr. Hillier when he was a
political prisoner in Pretoria. The prison
life is minutely described by Mr. Hillier,
and it is after describing some of his dis-
comforts that he introduces the following
passage :

"Mr. Clemens (Mark Twain) visited va
yesterday, and gave us a bright hour of his
conversation. . . . He spoke of prison life as in
many respects an ideal existence, the one be
had over sought, and never found — healthy,
undisturbed, plenty of repose, no fatigue, uo
distraction— such a life as enabled Bunyau to
write the Pilgrim's Progress and Cervantes I)im
Quixote. , , . For himself, Mark Twain con-
tinued, he could conceive of nothing better than
such a life ; he would wilhngly change places
with anyone of us, and, with such an opportunity
as had never yet been offered him before, would i
write a book — the book of his life. Of course, j
some of us failed to look at it in this philosophic
light, and he admitted that it was not always
easy to discover the concealed compensation
which invariably existed under apparently
adverse circumstances. Still, this was such a
clear case that he would assuredly, in the
interview which he was to have with the
President on the following day, endeavour to
get our sentences extended. For Clement —
one of the prisoners who improperly spelt his
name with a ' t ' — descended, like himself, on
the left-hand side from a long papal ancestry,
he would endeavour to get thirty years."

In the new volume of the Edinburgh
Edition of Stevenson (to wliich we shall
return later) occurs this memorable sentence,
in a letter from the novelist to a friend,
concerning his method of work : " I am
still ' a slow study,' and sit for a long wliile
silent on my eggs : unconscious thought,
there is the only method : macerate your
subject, let it boil slow, then take the M
off and look in — and there your stuff is —
good or bad." The next volume of the
Edinburgh Edition, which will also be tlie
last, will contain St. Ives.

Ibsen's seventieth birthday will he
celebrated on March 20. On that day a
complete nine-volume edition of his works
in German will be published in Berlin.
Christianin, we presume, will adopt methods
of its oytn.

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

Mb. Eobeet Buchanan issues from his
own depot in Gerrard-street, Soho, a cheap
edition of Saint Abe and His Seven Wives.
This poetical tale of Mormonisni was written
in 1870, "when" (writes Mr. Buchanan in
a bibliographical note) " all the Cockney
bastions of criticism were swarming with
' . . . . sliari)shooters on the look-out for the

' (1 d Scotcliman ' who had dared to

denounce Logrolling." Mr. Buchanan
recalls the kindly reception given to the
book, alike for its poetry and humour,
when it appeared anonymously. He writes :

" The present is the first cheap edition of the
book, and the first which bears the author's
name on the title-page .... I shall be quite
prepared to hear now, on the authority of the
newspapers, that the eulogy given to St. Abe
ou its first appearance was all a mistake,
and that the writer possesses no humoiu:
whatsoever."

We hope that Mr. Buchanan wiU have no
isuch experience, but he still protests too
'.much; he is too like the " fretful porpentine."
'"Printed cackle about books," he writes,
I" will always be about as valuable as spoken
backle about them." But the best spoken
iiackle about books is very good, and critics
i^an but cackle their best.

Mb. Edwabd Heron-Axlen's literal prose
iranslation of the Eubaiyat of Omar Khay-
yam and facsimile of the MS. in the
|3odleian (H. 8. Nichols & Co.) is before us.
;yter FitzGerald's version this certainly is
he most interesting contribution to Omar
iterature. Mr. Heron-Allen has worked
ong at his task, and it is presented with
lerfect order. The poem consists of 158
l(uatrains, and some idea of how Fitz-
rerald (whom Mr. Heron-AJlen always
Uudes to wrongly as Fitzgerald) worked
lay be gathered from the two following

'tanzas — the 149th and 155th :

I desire a little ruby wine and a book of verses,
I just enough to keep me alive, and half a
1 loaf is needful,

and then, that I and thou should sit in a
desolate place,

is better than the kingdom of a sultan.

If a loaf of wheateu-bread be forthcoming,
a gourd of wine and a thigh-bone of mutton,

I and then if thou and I be sitting in the
wilderness —
that would be a joy to which no sultan can
set bounds."

|rom these twain FitzGerald produced his

[ A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
I A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou
I Beside me singing iu the Wilderness —
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow."

Ms,. W. P. James, in his interesting
ierary notes in the St. Jameses Gazette,
ijminds us that the two most eminent men

t letters whose centenaries fall this year
both Italian — Metastasio and Leopardi.
I'le two-hundredth anniversary of Metas-
^sio's birthday is already over, for he
lis bom on the January 6, 1698. An
Jiglishman could hardly be expected to
ijsl much excitement about it ; yet Metas-
tjiio is well worthy to be had in remem-
Vnce, even among ourselves, for the
^portant part he played in the develop-
ipnt of opera. Leopardi is a hundred

yeaxB nearer to us in time, and nearer than

that in sentiment. The pessimism, however,
which nowadays is a fashionable affectation
of young novelists, was a bitter reality to
the young Italian of genius, who suffered
pain and ill-health all his Ufe and died
before he was forty years of age. Yet,
sincere as was his pessimism, his poetical
appeals to death did not prevent him ex-
hibiting considerable alarm at the approach
of cholera. His centenary falls on Jime 29
next.

Mk. T. D. Sullivan, writing in the
Nation, offers reminiscences of Father
Meehan, the author of The Fate and Fortunes
of the Farls of Tyrone and Tyrconnell and The
Rise and Fall of Irish Franciscan Monasteries,
and the friend of James Clarence Mangan.
From a humorous poem, contributed by
Father Meehan to the Nation many years
ago, entitled "The Last Words of Zozi-
mus," we take some Unes. Zozimus was
an old blind ballad singer, whose stand was
on Carlisle Bridge. This is how Zozimus
asked to be buried :

" One coffin and one horse iz quite enough.
One mourning jingle will be ' quantum

suff.'
I'll have no coronet to go before me
Nor Bucepha-li-us that ever bore me.
But put my hat, my stick, and gloves together
That bore for years the very worst of weather.
And, rest assured, in sperit will be there
' Mary of Agypt ' and ' Susannah ' fair.
And ' Pharaoh's daughter,' with the heavenly

blushes
That tuk the drowning goslin from the

rushes.
I'll not permit a tombstone stuck above me.
Nor effigy ; but, boys, if still yees love me,
Build a nate house for all whose fate is hard,
And give a bed to every wanderin' bard.
If gayuious yees admire, I have yees show it
By giving pipe and porter to the Poet."

The Home University is a new monthly
magazine embodying an educational experi-
ment, which has evidentiy been conceived
by a thoughtful mind. The editor declares
that The Home University is not a school
book nor an encyclopa3dia, nor a journal of
science and literature, but that it partakes
of the characters of all three. The general aim
is to convey knowledge in such a way that it
can be easily assimilated by home students,
to whom the magazine is offered as ' ' the best
substitute for university residence " which
the editor can devise. No particular system
in the arrangement of the contents of the
magazine is adopted, or the only system is
variety — the attempt " to supply intellectual
food in somewhat the same fashion as a man
takes his daily meals." Hence, in this first
number, we have a "Chronology of the
First Christian Century," "Memoranda as
to Greece," " Schedule of the Life and
Times of John Milton," " Ana and the Table-
Talk of Distinguished Men," "Our Ambu-
lance Class," and much besides. Illustra-
tions are provided; and, indeed, expense
does not seem to have been spared on this
interesting publication.

This year we may expect an unusual
supply of books dealing with cricket. A
little volume of verses and drawings, with a

frontispiece of the late Sir Frank Lockwood,
has, indeed, already appeared, although it
is stUl winter. The success of K. S. Eanjit-
sinhji's work and the growing interest in the
game are certain to induce other writers to
turn to this subject. Mr. "W. G. Grace is
even now proceeding with his Eeminiscences,
and Mr. Horace Hutchinson is said to be
engaged in compiling the history of the
game. So long as young men do not prefer
the literature of the game to the game itself,
we do not see why books should not be
written about it.

A second edition of Mr. Stephen PhUlip's
Poems will be issued next week. In this
edition several misprints which marred the
first issue will be corrected, and we under-
stand that Mr. Phillips has revised, and,
indeed, largely re- written his poem, " The
Wife."

Mr. Fisher Unwin announces for the
29th inst. Sir Charles Gavan Duffy's My
Life in Two Hemispheres. Sir Charles, we
are informed, tells his story fully from the
stormy days of his connexion with the
Nation to the time when he became the
Governor of a Crown Colony. The letters
and conversations are a notable feature of
the book. Among the writers of the former
will be found Cardinal Newman, Thomas
Carlyle, Thackeray, Father Matthew, Leigh
Hunt, and Sir Henry Parkes. Interesting
matter concerning Browning, John Stuart
Mill, and the author of Bark Rosaleen is also
given. Sir Charles Gavan Duffy lives now
in retirement at Nice, but he still engages
in literary pursuits, and is the general
editor of the Netv Irish Library.

Mr. Unwin also announces for the 29th
Mr. J. F. Hogan's The Gladstone Colony :
an Unwritten Chapter of Australian History.

Messrs. W. Thacker & Co. inform us
that they have purchased from Messrs.
Neville Beeman, Ltd. (who are giving up
business as publishers), the following publi-
cations : The Naval Pocket-Book, by W.
Laird Clowes, the next edition of which
win be ready on February 7 next ; The
Captain of tlie "Mary Pose," by the same
author ; The Pose of Putchers Coolly and
Wayside Courtships, by Hamlin Garland,
and three new books by the same author to
be published shortly ; and others.

Mr. S. a. Strong, librarian to the House
of Lords, will contribute to Longman^ s Maga-
zine for February an article based on the
Duke of Devonshire's papers at Chatsworth,
showing the connexion between the sixtli
Duke and some of the leading writers of
his day. In the article will appear for the
first time a letter from Thackeray to the
Duke, in which he sketches out the further
fortunes of the leading characters of Vanity
Fair after the close of the story.

A NEW work, called A Bepartwe from
Tradition, and Other Stories, from the pen
of Miss Eosaline Masson, daughter of Prof.
Masson, will be published immediately by
Bliss, Sands & Co.

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 22, 1898.

"LEWIS CAEEOLL."

Born, 1833; Died, 1898.

"If I have written anything to add to those
stories of innocent and healthy amusement that
are laid up in books for the children I love so
well, it is surely something I may hope to look
back upon without shame and sorrow (as how
much of life must then be recalled !) when my
turn comes to walk through the valley of
shadows."

These words were written in 1876 by
Lewis Carroll in " An Easter Greeting to
Every Child that loves Alice." And now
his turn has come. Truly, he had no cause
to feel anything but satisfaction. The world
can show few writers who from first to last
have used their talents so joyously, diligently,
and to such kindly purpose as Lewis Carroll.
Lewis Carroll's best period lasted, rouglily,
from his thirtieth to his forty-fifth year.
He began Alice's Adventures Underground in
July, 1862; he finished converting it into
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (abbreviated
in the nursery to Alice in Wonderland) in
1865 ; he published Phantasmagoria, which
contained " Hiawatha's Photographing," in
1869 ; he finished Through the Looking- Glass
in 1871, and The Hunting of the Snark in
1876. After that came a decline. His wit
was as keen, his brain as masterfully in-
tricate, as ever ; but simplicity left him.
Indeed, he never again quite caught the
simplicity of his first book. Alice in Wonder-
land is an outpouring of inspired nonsense
which flowed forth without hindrance and
without perceptible impulse. But in Through
the Looking- Glass we now and then hear the
pumi) at work. The quality of the nonsense
18 no whit the worse; but simplicity is
endangered. In Through the Looking- Glass,
for example, there is the White Queen's
exposition of living backwards, and the
theory advanced by Tweedledum and
Tweedledee that Alice and themselves had
no existence apart from the Eed King's
dream — a perilous approach to metaphysics.
Moreover, Through the Looking- Glass is a
game of chess, which is the sheer super-
fluity of cleverness. But Through the Looking-
Glass is only a shade less admirable than
its companion. Has it not the White Knight
and tJie two Queens, Tweedledum and
Tweedledee, Humpty Dumpty, and the
Walrus and the Carpenter ? Has it not
also the following passage, which has
always seemed to us the perfect example of
the higher foolishness ? —

" ' Crawling at your feet,' said the Gnat ....
' you may observe a bread-and-butter fly. Its
wings are thin slices of bread and butter, its
body is a crust, and its head is a lump of
sugar.'

' And what does it live on ? '

' Weak tea with cream in it.'

A new difficulty came into Alice's head.
' Supposing it couldn't find any '< ' she suggested.

' Then it would die, of course.'

' But that must happen very often,' Alice
remarked thoughtfully.

' It always happens.' "

We may, indeed, feel quite certain of the
longevity of the Alice books. They belong
to no one period, but to all. They touch
nothing actual but human nature, and
human nature is continuous and imchanging.
Alice is a matter - of - fact, simple - minded

child, and the world is fuU of Alices, and
always wiU be. Hence the assured popu-
larity of her history. Again, in the manner
there is no sense of antiquity, although
some thirty years have rolled by, each
bringing its modification to literary style.
Lewis Carroll wrote as plainly and lumin-
ously as he could; and we read and read
and can think of no emendation whatever.
The words are the best words in the best
order. Of hardly any other humorist can
it be said that in no instance do we ever wish
his manner of narration altered. But Lewis
Carroll was a merciless critic of himself
and a tireless elaborator of his work, and
he sent nothing forth until it was perfect.

By his art Wonderland is made not less
conceivable than Fairy Land. It is almost
impossible to believe that there is not
somewhere such a region, where dwell for
ever the Cheshire Cat and the Mock Turtle,
the Gryphon and Humpty Dumpty, the
Eed Knight and the Duchess. They
have each and aU an individuality ; and
they are at once so mad and so reasonable :
as real and recognisable as the people
in Dickens. Pfirtly it is Lewis Carroll's
favourite trick of finding fun in pedantic
literalness that persuades us. Again,
the illusion is assisted by the abruptness
with which the stories open. Alice in
Wonderland has no preamble, there is no
laboured description, we are in AVonder-
land in a moment, before there is time I
to think about the pinch of salt with which
to season the exaggeration. These are the
first words : " Alice was beginning to get
very tired of sitting by her sister on the
bank, and of having nothing to do," and
then, on the third page, Alice has followed
the white rabbit down the burrow. Again,
in Through the Looking Glass, the beginning
is immediate : " One thing was certain, that
the white kitten had had nothing to do with
it — it was the black kitten's fault entirely,"
and so on.

Alice in Wonderland has been translated
into at least three European languages — •
French, German and Italian — but without
much success. Each coimtry has its own
humour and cares little for borrowing. In
the title, at any rate, the German version
bears the palm for conciseness : Alice's
Abenteuer im Wonderland. The French and
Italian are almost forbidding : Aventures
d' Alice an Pays des Merveillcs and L' Aeventtire
d' Alice nel Paese delle Meraviglie. The two
Alice books together were converted to stage
purposes some few years ago by Mr. Savile-
Clarke, and the little play had an auspicious
career both in London and the provinces.
Lewis Carroll took the keenest interest in
this dramatic version — the stage, indeed,
was among his hobbies — and when the
company was at Brighton he journeyed
thither and played fairy god-father (his
favourite r6le in life) to some of the little
performers. At that time a discussion was
going forward in the papers concerning the
proposed movement to make it illegal for
children of less than ton years of age to
appear on the stage, and Lewis CarroU, in a
letter to the St. James's Gazette, referring
especially to a meeting of ladies in favour of
the movement, contributed to it. The views of
a man so fond of children and so passionately

zealous for their happiness are pecuHarly
interesting. Here are extracts from his i
letter, which was entirely opposed to the
projected measure :

" I spent yesterday afternoon at Brighton,
where for five hours I enjoyed the society of
three exceedingly happy and healthy little girls,
aged twelve, ten, and seven. We paid three
visits to the houses of friends ; we spent a long
time on the pier, where we . . . iuvested
pennies in every mechanical device which in-
vited such contributions and promised anything
worth having, for body or mind, in return; |
we even made an excited raid on headquarters,
like Shylock with three attendant Portias, to
demand the ' pound of flesh ' — in the form of
a box of chocolate-drops — which a dyspeptic
machine had refused to render. I think that
anyone who could have seen the vigour of life
in those three children— the intensity with
which they enjoyed everything, great or small,
that came in their way — who could have
watched the younger two running races on the
Pier, or have heard the fervent exclamation of
the eldest at the end of the afternoon, ' We
have enjoyed oiirselves ! ' — would have agreed
with me that here, at least, there was no
excessive ' physical strain,' nor any immiiteid
danger of ' fatal results ' ! ... A drama,
written by Mr. Savile-Clarke is now being
played at Brighton ; and in this (it is called
' AUce in Wonderland ') all three children have
been engaged. . . . They had been acting every
night this week, and twice on the day before
I met them, the second j)erformance lasting
till half-past ten at night, after which they got
up at seven next morning to bathe I That such
(apparently) severe work should co-exist with
blooming health and buoyant spirits seeius at
first sight a paradox ; but I appeal to aoyoue
who has ever worked con amure at any subject '
whatever to support me in the assertion that,
when you really love the subject you are work-
ing at, the 'physical strain' is absolutely nil;
it is only when working ' against the grain '
that any strain is felt ; and I believe the appa-
rent paradox is to be explained by the fact that
a taste for acting is one of the strongest passions
of human nature, that stage-children show it
nearly from infancy, and that, instead of being,
as these good ladies imagine, miserable drudges
who ought to be celebrated in a new ' Cry of
the Children,' they simply rejoice in their work,
' even as a giant rejoiceth to run his course.' "

From one who could write and believe :

" Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy.
The heart love of a child ! " —

these are striking words.

With The ILmting of the Snurk (1876),
which, although to most persons it seems
more fitted to adult intellects, was dedicated
by the author to a child, and frequently
presented by him to children, Lewis CarroU^s
best period came to an end. Of this classic
of comic verse it is hard to speak. No one
has ever had a dream less coherent, less
satisfying. Indeed, it may be said of Lewis
Carroll that, above all men, he had the art
of dreaming with a pen. His great colleague
as a nonsense maker — Edward Lear — could
be foolish enough, but always with direction
and with responsibility. Lewis Carroll, as
does the mind when asleep, took the fine of
least resistance. From The Hunting of th
Snark illustrations have been excavated, hy
leader writers and politicians, for every
kind of purpose ; but the meaning of the
complete work eludes us, and will elude.
Because there is none. It is simply fooling,
the best fooling on record. Why, indeed,

J.Uf. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

'99^

ek a meaning in a poem, when the preface
it can contain such a passage as this, in
;planation of the line :

rheu the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder

sometimes " !'
"The Bellmau, who was ahuost morbidly
iisitive about appearances, used to have the
)n'sprit unshipped once or twice a week to be
varnished, and it more than once happened,
hen the time came for replacing it, that no
le on board could remember which end of the
ip it belonged to. They knew it was not of the
ightest use to appeal to the Bellman about
—he would only refer to his Naval Code, and
ad out in pathetic tones Admiralty Instruc-
jus which none of them had ever been able to
iderstand — so it generally ended in its being
stened on, anyhow, across the rudder. The
•Imsman used to stand by with tears in his
ts ; he knew it was all wrong, but, alas !
lie -12 of the Code, ' No one shall speak to the
an at the Helm,' had been completed by the
(•llnian himself with the words, ' and the Man
( the Helm shall speak to no one.' So remon-
lance was impossible, and no steering could
1 done till the next varnishing day. During
ese bewildering intervals the ship usually
iiled backwards."

' le resemblance in one of the illustrations
I Dr. Kenealy, the Claimant's advocate,
ill some people at first to seek for a parable
< tlie Ticlibome Case. Others have said
^at the Snark is popularity — " a boojum
Hu see." But the story that the poem
j Bw out of that line —

' For the Sn:irk was a boojimi you see " —

(lich one "day flashed into the author's

I'lin, is the best explanation of all. In

\|rkmanship, The Himting of the Snark is

a|iiiracle of dexterity.

(\iter The Hunting of the Snark came

lull. Then there appeared, in 1883,

ijms Y and lieason ? practically a reprint

Phantamnagoria and the Snark ; A Tangled

'e (1885), a mixture of mathematical

piblems humorously enunciated, which

vro printed first in tlie Monthly Packet ;

'«;»^ o/Zo^ec (1886), Sylvie and Bruno

' , and, later, its second part, a whimsical

mdloy comprising a story of modern life, a

liie exquisite nonsense — for example :

I' He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
I Descending from the 'bus :

He looked again, and found it was
' A Hippopotamus.

' If this should stay to dine,' he said,
' There won't be much for us ' " — •

w much theology. Sylcie and Bruno,

'i grew from a little story contributed

itt Judy by Lewis Carroll in 1868, was

od with some disappointment, owing

habit that readers have of demanding

lurite author to cut aU his wares from

ime piece. The theology was resented,

nu because it was not good — many of the

pijjages are indeed beautiful and dictated

b,;rare wisdom — but because it was con-

sinred to be out of place. Lewis CarroU,

ht'ever, had grown to be of another

ojiion, and the two Sylvie and Bruno

vt^imes were his favourites among his

wtk. In the same Easter greeting from

wlch we have quoted at the head of this

arjsle he wrote (in 1876) :

_ 'I do not beheve Qod means us to divide
liflinto two halves — to wear a grave face on

Sunday, and to think it out of place to even so
much as mention Him on a week-day. Do
you think He cares to see only kneeUng figures,
and to hear only tones of prayer, and that He
does not also love to see the lambs leaping in
the sunUght, and to hear the merry voices of
the chQdren as they roll among the hay?
Surely their innocent laughter is as sweet in
His ears as the grandest anthem that ever
rolled up from the ' dim religious Ught ' of
some solemn cathedral ? "

Lastly came, in 1896, the first part of
Symbolic Logic, in which the young student
is offered quite the most fascinating series
of sorites ever propounded, where it is
proved beyond all question, among other
things, that ' ' No Hedgehog takes in the
Times."

Lewis Carroll has had many imitators —
some quite shameless, and none worthy to
stand beside him. They were, of course,
doomed to failure, since they had neither
his temperament nor his motive. Lewis
CarroU, whose attitude to children was more
devotion than mere affection, approaching
even to adoration, was not a professional
author : he was a kindly playmate of little
people, and he wrote Alice in Wonderland
to give pleasure to two friends, the little
daughters of Dean Liddell, one of whom —
the original Alice — is now Mrs. Hargreaves.
It was published that others might share
that pleasure. Of not many of the diligent
writers who have attempted to reap in the
same field can it be said that their stories
proceeded from a similar impulse. Indeed,
the failure of the many imitations of Alice is
another proof that good work must come
from within, must be bom of the author's
own individuality. There has been, and can
be, but one Lewis Carroll. To borrow his
formula) is not to reconstruct himself.

Lewis Carroll in private life was the Eev.
Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, of whom we
have hitherto said nothing, in accordance
with his wish that his two characters should
be kept apart. One proof of this desire is
to be found in the letter which he wrote
when, in 1888, Mr. E. H. Caine, the editor
of a collection of humorous verse, asked
him for permission to include certain of
Lewis Carroll's pieces in that volume. Mr.
Caine received this reply :

" Mr. C. L. Dodgson begs to say, in reply to
Mr. Caine's letter received this morning, that he
had never put his name to any such pieces as
are named by Mr. Caine. His pubUshed
writings are exclusively mathematical, and
woiild not be suitable for such a volume as
Mr. Caine proposes to edit."
Against this rebuff might be placed the
following letter to a child (written in 1875)
wherein the gulf existing between the two
personalities is at once emphasised and
removed ; but it must be remembered that
Mr. Dodgson would do for a child what he
would not do for anyone else :

" My dear Magdalen, — ■! want to explain to
you why I did not call yesterday. I was sorry
to miss you, but you see I had so many conver-
sations on the way. I tried to explain to
the people in the street that I was gomg to see
you, but they wouldn't hstou ; they said they
were in a hmrry, which was rude. At last I
met a wheelbarrow that I thought would attend
to me, but I couldn't make out what was in it.
I saw some features at first. Then I looked
through a telescope and found it was a a coun-

tenance; then I looked through a microscope
and found it was a face ! I thought it was
rather like me, so I fetched a large looking-
glass to make sure, and then to my great joy I
found it was Me. We shook hands, and were
just beginning to talk when Myself came up
and joined us, and we had quite a pleasant
conversation. I said, ' Do you remember when
we all met at Sandown ? ' And Myself said,
' It was very jolly there ; there was a child
called Magdalen,' and Me said, ' I used to like
her a little. Not much, you know - only a
little.' Then it was time for us to go to the
train — and who do you think came to the station
to see us off ? You would never guess so I
must tell you. They were two very dear friends
of mine, who happened to be here just now,
and beg to be allowed to sign this letter as your
affectionate friends, Lewis Cabboll and C. L.
Dodgson."

Mr. Dodgson was born in 1833, the son
of a. well-known Churchman, Archdeacon
Dodgson. He proceeded to Christ Church,
Oxford, and in 1854 graduated with a first
class in mathematics. In 1861 he was
elected Senior student of his college, and
in the same year became Mathematical Lec-
turer, a post he held until 1881. In 1861
he also took orders. His mathematical works
were numerous and valuable, although his
championship of Euclid against more modern
systems of geometry is held by many
to be fantastic. Mr. Dodgson had many
of the eccentricities which so often
accompany proficiency in his particular
science, and many good stories are told of
him at Oxford. He was a very watchful
guardian of Oxford's honour, and used occa-
sionally to put forth a whimsical pamphlet,
in which some phase of the university's
well-being was examined. These produc-
tions were always witty and marvellously
ingenious. Mr. Dodgson was shy and
reserved, a resolute celibate, a man of few
friends but fit, and the patron saint of
children. Incidentally we might mention that
he liked them all to be familiar with Lewis
Carroll's writings. His hobbies, after mathe-
matics, which he looked upon both as work
and play, were photography and the stage.
His photographs of children must be well-
nigh countless. Mr. Dodgson — as sage, as
wit, and as saint — will be mourned by
those that knew him, as Lewis Carroll will
be mourned by readers all the world over.

"LEWIS CAEEOLL" AT OXFOED.

My earliest sight of " Lewis Carroll "
was when, as a freshman, raw and
abashed, I had once the honour of sitting
opposite him at dinner. With all a
boy's nervousness at dining for the first
time at a college "high table," in utter
ignorance of the allusions which filled the
talk, and tortured by a desire to escape to
more congenial society, I found huge conso-
lation in the fact that now I was regarding
with my own eyes a god of my childhood.
To one fresh from a very different place, and
not yet habituated to the real Oxford, he
seemed the living embodiment of the old
Oxford of a boy's fancy. I desired to attend
his lectures till I found that he was a
mathematician. Dreary people in his own
college, when questioned concerning their
great man, confessed to having lived in

100

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 22, 1898.

ignorance that a prophet was among them.
To certain he was simply an old mathe-
matical tutor ; to others a great name in
letters which they had never connected with
a local habitation ; but to none was his
figure noticeable. Few of Oxford's famous
men have been so unconspicuous in her
midst. Froude was constantly to be
observed ; even "Walter Pater was known
by sight to a large part of the under-
graduate world; but I scarcely remember
to have seen "Lewis Carroll" half a dozen
times in the street.

In a sense he was the most old-world of
all the elements in the place. The Oxford
of ecclesiastical bustle and honest doubt, of
Newman and Mark Pattison, of Arnold and
Clough, though actually earlier in time, was
years later in sentiment. And what shall I
say of all that fills the gap between — the
days of the new Liberalism, the rosthetic
craze, the University Extensionist, the times
whicli have "learnt a stormy note of men
contention-tost, of men who groan," and are
given over to many new things ? The world
of " Lewis Carroll " was ages removed from
this. Though full of the wide human
nature which delights in all things contem-
porary, his mind, alike in its piety, its
ingenuities and its humours, belonged to
an earlier and quieter world. His flute
never lost "its happy country tone."
His Oxford was sleepy and early Victorian,
a haunt of people who played croquet and
little girls with short frocks and smootlily
brushed hair and quaint formal politeness.
It seems to me that the exact subtlety of the
humour of the "Alice" books could never
be caught again, for the sleepy afternoon
air, the quaint grace and the mock dignity
are all the property of an elder and vanish-
ing world.

In Oxford his works enjoyed a surprising
popularity, and formed the storehouse for
undergraduate nicknames. In my own day
it even became the fashion for a man to set
them in foolish paradox by the side of
Shakespeare when incautiously questioned
on his preferences in letters. The Hunting
of the Snark was popularly supposed to con-
tain all the metaphysics in the world. I
once heard a distinguished college authority
explain his course of lighter reading during
one vacation. "The first week," he said,
" I read Sylvie and Bruno." " And then ? "
some one asked. "And then," he said, " I
read the Second Part." "And then?"
"And t'ien," he murmured in doubt —
"then," brightening up, "ah, then, I went
back to Through the Looking- Glass."

J. B.

THE EDINBURGH ON ME. KIPLING.

The most serious and comprehensive criti-
cism of Mr. Kipling that has yot appeared is
to be found in the new Edinburgh. The
writer has looked with a friendly but dis-
criminating eye upon the twelve books that
now stand to Mr. Kipling's name, and has
come to certain interesting conclusions He
does not attempt to place their author — that
would be too bold — but he says words which
he hopes may help Mr. Kipling's fluid state
towards crystallisation. Let us look at the
article.

Not
literature.

Outer

circle of

literature.

laner

circle of

literature.

The critic begins with a definition of
literature, which for ordinary working pur-
poses wiU suffice. The sum of it is this :

1. Books containing mere records v
of material facts, valuable only for /
their accuracy, without regard to (
form or expression. )

2. Books containing records of"|
facts of general human interest,
history, obeervation of life, &o.
either drawn up with some regard
to form, or pervaded by interest of
expression.

3. [a) Books dealing with facts-»
or ideas of general and permanent
human interest, in which form and
expression are essential qualities ;
and (6) books dealing with subjects
of little inherent interest, but which
are remarkable for perfection of
form and expressiou.

The bulk of Mr. Kipling's work, it is
then decided, comes within the outer circle,
the clause "observation of life" having
been inserted for his benefit.

" For of the many remarkable qualities in
Mr. Kipling's publications, the most remarkable
of all is the extraordinary faculty of observa-
tion which they display. . . . Nothing he
comes in contact with seems to escape his
notice ; and, while still a young man, he gives
one the impression in his books of having lived
two or three lives, and lived them pretty
thoroughly. ' Choses Vues ' might be the
general title for a great deal of his work ; with
the important addition that he not only sees
things himself, but he makes the reader see
them."

The critic turns then to the examination
of some of the stories which best illustrate
this gift of observation ; finding much
praise to give them, although never allow-
ing them to win to a higher place than the
outer circle.

The Light that Failed and Captains Cour-
ageous are next disposed of, and the Jungle
Books reached. We agree with the critic in
considering these Mr. Kipling's most won-
derful accomplishment, and his two works
most likely to retain a permanent place in
literature. Says the reviewer :

"He has attempted nothing less than to
project himself, in imagination, into the beast
raind, to put things as beasts might put them
had they the faculty of intelligible expression.
The imaginative power which he has brought
to ttiis task is really extraordinary ; how extra-
ordinary we do not become fully aware till we
come to those passages, here and there, in
which human speakers intervene in the story,
as the father and mother and child do in the nar-
rative of Eikki-tikki-tavi, the mongoose. . . .
The individuality of the animals is admirably
kept up ; the author has stamped their
characters and names on them; we shall
always think of the tiger as ' Shere Khan,'
and of the black panther as ' Bagheera.' The
rules arid laws among the animals as to hunt-
ing and killing impress one as what might
really exist in some crude but understood form
among them ; and, indeed, the ' water truce,'
when the drought became such as to nearly dry
the river and make water scarce, may almost
be said to be founded on fact. The animal
idea of fire as 'the red flower,' of the rifle-
bullet as 'the stinging-fly that comes out of
the white smoke,' of spring as 'the time of
new talk,' are all remarkable instances of the
author's power of putting himself, in imagina-
tion, in the place of the brute mind."

Against much of the poetry is brought

the charge of hasty, slap-dash writing '

though wo cannot agree that " McAndrew's
Hymn" and "Tomlinson" suffer in this
way — and its slang is also deprecated. This
is the sum of the matter :

" That Mr. Kipling can rise to the higher
level of poetry he has shown us every now and
theu in such poems as ' L'Envoi,' and ' Kabul
Town,' and ' The Legend of Evil' (first section),
and ' Mandalay,' aud that grand Uttle poem,
'Lest we forget,' which a short time since sent
a thrill through the length and breadth of
England. And perhaps the glorious racket of
' The Bolivar ' and chivalrous climax of ' East
and West ' may avail to keep alive such com-
paratively short poems, in spite of roughness
of style and execution. But, taking his verse
comirositions altogether, one may say that the
author has just let us see that ho might he a
poet if he would, but has done but httle yet
towards a serious achievement of the position."

And so we reach the conclusion of this
inquiry. The critic is of opinion that
almost anything is within Mr. Kipling's
power if he will cease to " play to the
gallery." In short :

"If he wishes for future fame, for a per-
manent place in the world's library, we beUeve
he has it within his choice, if he woidd go to
work seriously and aim at gfiviug us his best,
instead of being content to please and interest
us for the moment. If he prefers the latter
way of expending his genius, his own genera-
tion may have no reason to complain — it is a
most brilliant Variety entertainment, and never ,
seems to flag for a moment ; but in that case
future generations will not hear much of him,
unless it may be in this way — that with his
varied interest in life and his ubiquitous habits
he has, perhaps, the best chance of all men
living of ultimately becoming a Solar Myth."

PARIS LETTER.

(From our French Correspondent.)

The " Mercure de France" is the ostentatious
protector of minor poets. But in Paris
the minor poets have no chanco. Nobody
reads them, nobody reviews them ; they
alone take themselves seriously.

M. Pierre Louys adequately displayed the
bent of his narrow and distinguished talent
in his classical study Aphrodite. One may
question the value of such a tour rfc force,
but the achievement is a considerable one.
M. Louys is a nineteenth century pagan—
oh, but a real pagan such as not even the
pagans themselves dreamed of. When a
gentleman of modern times turns his back
upon eighteen centuries of Christian civihsa-
tion, and plunges devoutly into the worship
of the gods, he usually makes his confession
of faith with an ardour that leaves nothing
to be desired. As far as I can see, modem
paganism is mere deification of the courtesan.
Not that one need journey so far backwards
as Greece and the pagan deities for that. The
article in latter-day Paris enjoys imlimited
consideration. A host of geniuses from the
days of Baudelaire to our own are occupied in
hymning her praises. Such edifying half-
penny papers as Le Journal are maintained
exclusively in her interests ; to which eveu
middle-aged Academicians like Coppee, to

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

101

lay nothing of MM. Catulle Mendes,
Sichepin, Leon Baudot, Marcel Prevost,
tc, are proud to contribute, all wielding a
jen herein steeped in the same ink for her
mtertainment.

Four-and-twenty centuries to come another
;rudite and investigating mind like that of M.
Pierre Louys may be tempted to reconstruct
:or another, and, let us hope, austerer civi-
isation, a picture of this gallant high life.
We may venture to predict that he wiU
liardly, if he sticks to facts and the news-
papers and the fiction of the hour, succeed
in producing anything so poetical as M.
Louy's Chansons de Bilitis. To the mere
Philistine, who cares not a jot for the poetry
)f paganism, and who thinks the world all
;he better for the introduction of Christian
ihastity, such literature, however fine and
lelicate, is both nauseous and monotonous.
\.n entire volimie on a single theme indicates
uorbidness of concentration of interest few
\<i us, happily, are capable of. If you
Iiave read the book tlu'ough at a single
itting, as I did, you feel you would
like to go abroad into the clean woods
nd play for several days with little chil-
ren or nice innocent animals, who know
either Latin nor Greek, and have many
liings else to think of besides an unhealthy
;3vival of pagan sensuality. As if our
iwn were not more than enough !
I M. Louy's prose is highly polished, of
j simplicity too self-conscious, with a
liythmic wave which is charming, and a
JBlicacy of colour to suit the high ver-
jiction of form. In a word, he is an incom-
lirable artist. Lacking in sense of humour
id irony, he has not the art of an
luatole France of giving vitality and a
prsonal speU to Ids erudition. He never
jses above the coldly sensuous. The bent
I his talent leaves us in some doubt of the
iility of a classical education. Indeed,
ere are times when the troubled and
•.asperated reader is inclined to ask him-
ilf if humanity would not be improved by
1e suppression of all education, or rather
le art of reading and writing, for a while.
lOf those songs of Bilitis there are but few
\iich are not devoted to the usual details
(| a courtesan's existence. Perhaps the
^Dttiest is the cradle song :

, ' The woods are palaces built for thee alone,
idch I have given thoo. The piuo trunks
the columns ; the high branches ai-e the
vJts. Sleep. That he may not awaken thee,
I'ould sell the sun to the sea. The breeze of the
dre's wing is not so light as thy breath.
Ilughtcv of mine, flesh of my flesh, thou wilt
81 when thou dost open thy eyes if thou
WLildst the jJaiu or the town, or the moimtaiu
othe moon, or the white procession of the
gls."

jChe poet Henri de Eegnier also chaunts
niler the winged protection of the French
Mrcury. His last volume is in prose,
a jllection of extravagant tales — La C'anne
dfjaspe. They are cleverly written, with
djinction and some grace. But — and
h«e we may call on the pagan gods
fd enlightenment, since M. de Regnier
is'mother neo-pagan — what does it all
mm ? Not that we are before a mystifica-
ti<i like Poe's. A writer who can write so
lujdly and so well of the sea should give

us stories of a solider value than these, and
even the fantastic can leave a definite im-
pression. But here no impression whatever.
Now and then a neat and witty definition.
Then the reader hopes. Again, a really
fine description in the most elegant prose.
The reader expands, and cheerfully turns
the page. Lo ! neither sense, nor pro-
priety, nor the vaguest semblance of mean-
ing or idea, and the offended reader yawns,
and laments with Solomon the excessive
production of literature. This is what M.
de Eegnier can do when he has a mind to
make himself understood :

" I have seen all the sea's faces : her morning
visage of childhood, her mid-day face stream-
ing with gold, her Medusan mask of the
evening, and her formless aspect of night. After
the slyness of the temporary lull comes the
vehemence of the tempest. A god inhabits the
changing waters. Sometimes he rises, clutching
the mauo of the waves and the long locks of
sea-weed, with the rattle of the wind and the
roar of the surge. He is fashioned of foam and
spray. His mysterious hands contract in claws,
and standing with his water-spout torso, his
cloak of mist, his visage of cloud, and his eyes
of lightning, he raises his prestige from in-
numerable waves and storms, shattered in the
monstrous howling of sm-ge, shouted down by
wide jaws, and torn by naUs, he succmnbs in
the crush of his fall, and relives in the spiune of
his own fuiy."

Goh, by M. Pol. Neveux, reprinted
from the Revue de Paris, is a dull and
melancholy country novel, the study of a
carpenter's apprentice who is seized for the
standing army of France, and goes away to
China and elsewhere, in love with an un-
interesting peasant girl, who declines to
wait five years for his return. He comes
back to find her married, breaks his heart,
takes to drink, and commits suicide. The
book is well-written, but nobody awakens
the faintest interest or sympathy.

H. L.

THE BOOK MARKET.

EEMAINDER8.

WE published last autumn an article on
" Eemainders," which excited some
interest, and we appended to it a list of books
with their original and reduced prices. We
now give a fresh list of such prices, taken
from the catalogue of a weU-known "re-
mainder" bookseller:

BIOGRAPHY AND REMINISCENCES.

„ . . , Pres'-nt

0"*?°'^" Remainder'
Price.

Bastien - Lepage and
his Art

Admiral Coligny, by
Sir Walter Besant. . .

Alphonse Daudet, by
R. H. Sherard ...

Oliver Goldsmith :
Forster's Life

Jchn Mitford : Letters
and Reminiscences .

Lord Nelson : Public
and Private Life, by
G. Lathom Browne

10s. 6d.

2s. 6d.
15s. Od.

7s. 6d.

3s. 6d.

Price.
4s. Od.

Is. 3d.

3g. Od.

38. Od.

Is. Od.

Original
Price.

18s. Od. ds. 6d.

Pepys : Diary and
Correspondence, by
Lord Braybrooke . . .

George W. SmaUey :
London Letters and
Some Others, 2 vols.

Pridtiof Nansen, 1861-
1893, translated by
William Archer ...

Garibaldi ; Autobio-
graphy, translated
by A. Werner, 3 vols.

The Book Lover, by
James Baldwin . . .

Bancroft's History of
the United States,
7 vols. 12mo.

The Study of English
Literature, by J.
Churton Collins . . .

Gibbon's Decline and
Fall of the Roman
Empire, 4 vols. ...

Goethe's Faust, with
Retsch's Etchings .

Remains of the Earlier
Popular Poetry of
England, by W. C.
Hazlitt, 4 vols.

The Town, by Leigh
Himt. Illustrated
edition

The Best Plays of Ben
Jonson, edited by

B. Nicholson and

C. H. Herford, 3
vols.. Mermaid
Series

The Falcoii on the
Baltic, by E. F.
Knight

Early Popular Poetry
of Scotland and
the Northern Bor-
der, edited by
David Laiug, and
re-edited by W. C.
Hazlitt, 2 vols. ...

The Voiage and Tra-
vayle of Sir John
Maundeville

Shelley's Complete
Poetical Works,
edited by W. M.
Kossetti, 3 vols. ...

328. Od.

128. 6d.

Present

' Remainder "

Price.

12s. 6d.

48. Ud.

lOs. (id.
78. 6d.

108. 6d.

7s. 6d.

3l8. 6d.

Gs. Od.

2s. 6d.

Is. 3d.

178. «d.

98. Od.

48. 6d.

Is. 9d.

308. Od.

14s. Od.

3s. Od.

Os. 9d.

208. Od.

88. Od.

12s. 6d.

58. Od.

5s. 9d.
28. Od.

lOs. Od. 48. Od.

3s. Od.

228. 6d. 10s. 6d.

TRAVEL, TOPOGRAPHY, ETC.

Memories of Mashona-
land, by the Right
Rev. Bishop K.
Bruce lOs. 6d. 23. Od.

Camden's Remains
Concerning Britain
(Library of Old
Authors) OS. Od. 28. Od.

Capitals of the
World, with intro-
duction by H. D.
Traill, 2 vols.

A Comprehensive
Scheme for Street
Improvements in
London 2l8. Od. 28. Od.

638. Od. 258. Od.

102

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 22, 1898.

_ . . , Present
Original .. Remainder'
Price. pri^jg

Ormerod's History of „ „,

Cheshire £.30 Os. Od. £4 lOs. Od .

Cruise of H.M.S.

Bacchante 528. fid. 98.0(1.

Wissman's My Second
Journey Through
Equatorial Africa... 16s. Od. os. Od.

Boulger's England
and Russia and Cen-
tral Asia, 2 vols. ... 36s. Od. ^ 3s. Od.

To Gipsy Land, by

Joseph PenneU ... 68. Od. 2s. 6d.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Idols of the French
Stage, by N. Suther-
land Edwards, 2 vols. 24s. Od.

History of Newmarket
and Annals of the
Turf, by J. P. Hore 37s. 6d.

Lesser Questions, by
Lady Jeune ... 10s. 6d.

Legal Lore : Curiosi-
ties of Law and
Lawyers, edited by
W. Andrews ... "s. 6d.

Acrobats and Mounte-
banks, by Hugues
leRoux. Translated
by A. P. Morton.
Illustrated by Jules
Gamier 16a. Od.

The Thousand and
One Days, edited by
Justin H. McCarthy 1 2s. Od.

Where Art Begins, by
Hume Nisbet ... 7s. 6d.

Original Poems, by
Anne and Jane
Taylor 3s. 6d.

Quaker Poets of Great
Britain and Ireland,
by E. N. Armitage 7s. 6d.

2s. Od.

9s. Od.
9d.

2s. Od.

4s. fid.

OS. Od.
2s. fid.

Is. Od.

2s. Od.

THE TITLES OF NEWSPAPERS.

With the exception of trade journals and
some denominational organs — e.g., the
Braper'H Record and the Presbyterian — the
most successful periodicals have titles which
fail to express their distinctive character.
That this is overlooked is due simply to
custom, for we get into the way of using
the name of a well-known paper very much
as we use an algebraic symbol. For in-
stance, who, by a priori reasoning from the
titles, could get at the difference between
the Morning Advertiser, the Morning Leader,
and the Morning Post ? We all know the
leading features of the Dailg Chronicle, the
Dailg Mail, the Dailg News, and the hailg
Telegraph, but, again, these are not differen-
tiated by their titles. The Times and the
Standard are as vague. Nor can the evening
papers be quoted as illustrating the principle
laid down by the hasty critics who sometimes
complain of the title of a new publication
that it is not sufficiently " expressive."

Differences of policy and tendency are
even more notable in the weekly religious

papers, but the title seldom gives any clue.
The Christian, the Christian Age, the
Christian Commonwealth, the Christian Globe,
the Christian Herald, the Christian Leader,
the Christian Million, the Christian TForld—
what philosopher could extract their true
inwardness with no guide but the name?
Within one ecclesiastical organisation alone,
we have such variations as the Church Times,
the Guardian, the Record, and the Rock.

Not a few magazines bear the name of
the publisher. This is a neat way out of
the difficulty, but it is quite unenlightening.
An acquaintance with the personal idio-
syncrasies of Messrs. Cassell, Chambers,
Longman, Macmillan, and Pearson would be
of little service to an investigator of the
periodicals of which these publishers are the
patron saints. Of late years the fashion has
grown of laying claim to some street or
district of London. So we have publica-
tions, daily, weekly, or monthly, named
after Belgravia, Comhill, Ludgate Hill, Pall
Mall, St. James's, the Strand, the Temple,
Temple Bar, Westminster, and Whitehall.
The only predictions that one would have
ventured to make would have been that the
Cornhill would deal with finance, and that
there would be a legal flavour about the
Temple. These forecasts, however, would
have been as unfortunate as the expectation
that there would be an especially courtly
tone about the Windsor.

In some cases it might be contended that
the title not only fails to express the
character of the periodical, but, if it were
not so well known, would be actually mis-
leading. An intelligent foreigner might
easily trip up over the Fortnightly Review.
He might naturally suppose that the Tablet
was the organ of the craft of monumental
masons. The Critical Review might seem
to have something to do with first nig:hts at
theatres, or possibly with the private view at
the Academy, but it is occupied solely with
theology. And the Cable is an agricultural
journal, and has no connexion whatever
with submarine telegraphy.

The study of synonyms yields curious
results. The Globe is an evening newspaper,
the World is a society weekly, while the
Universe is Roman Catholic. Ansivers, the
Inquirer, and Notes and Queries would seem
to have a good deal in common; but the
first is a collection of anecdotes, the second
is serious and Unitarian, and the third is a
medium of communication for antiquarians
and students of literary oddities. The
Guardian belongs to the high section of
Anglicanism, the Sentinel is an anti-opium
journal, and the now defunct Watchman
represented the conservative side of
Methodism. Neither Justice, with its advo-
cacy of social democracy, nor the American
Judge, with its quips and cranks, is in
danger, except from its title, of being
mistaken for the Law Times. The Broad
Arrow is devoted to the interests of the
military and naval services, the Dart is a
provincial comic paper, and the Quiver is a
decoroiis religious monthly ; and not one
paper of the three has anything to do with
archery. Brotherhood speaks for Christian
Socialism, Chums is a lively paper for boys,
and Fellowship (now dead) was started by a
Wesleyan minister for the promotion of

" the higher life." A club lounger who
took up the Leisure Sour by mistake for
the Idler could hardly help moralising
on the difference of similarities. The
Sun and the Star contradict all the usual
astronomical phenomena by their habit
of appearing simultaneously about ten in
the morning ; the Morning Star is a millen-
narian monthly ; Sunshine is published
" for schools and families " ; Moonshine is
humorous ; and the Meteor is the journal of
Rugby School. The Lamp is a CathoUc
magazine ; Light concerns itself with spooks ; ■
Light and Leading ministers to Sunday-school
teachers ; and Lux deals with Christian
evidences. There is a considerable actual
diversity between the Fcho and Public
Opinion, and between the Era, the New Age,
and the Nineteenth Century. Nor is there
any reason in the fitness of things why the
difference between the Baptist denomination
and the Home Rule movement should not
find more striking expression than in the
slight variation between the Freeman and
the Freeman'' s Journal.

In choosing a title, then, there is little
need to trouble about seciiring a concentra-
tion of the contents bill. It is enough if
the name is brief, easily remembered, and
likely to " catch on."

THE FUTURE OP TEE IDLER.

" Is it true, Mr. Dent, that you have taken
over Tlis Idler ? " An Academy representa-
tive asked the question of Mr. J. M
Dent, whom he found installed in Messrs.
Macmillan's old premises in Bedford-st'eet
" Quite true." ,

"You will, no doubt, transform the ap-,
pearance of the magazine — give it youi
own impress ? "

" Well, no— not yet, at all events! W(
have to consider the present readers of tlu
magazine, who perhaps do not want t
change."

" And will you maintain the character ol
the contents ? "

" Yes. We shall try to improve them, hu
on the same lines. Thf Idler will be ligh
and literary, pleasant and optimistic."
' ' And humorous ? "

"Mr. Anstey and Mr. Barrie Pain wil
write for it."

" And artistic ? "

Mr. Dent waved his arm round the room
indicating that many beautiful drawings ii
black-and-white which I saw about wen
intended for reproduction in The Idler.

" Have you any other notable contributor
in prospect '? "

" Oh, yes ! Mr. Austin Dobson, for one
But you must not judge us too much b;
our first number, which we shall issue in i
fortnight. It will be a good number, oi
the old lines."

" Will you keep up 'The Idlers' Club a
a feature ? "

"Yes, certainly. And I may add tha
we shall make country life, scenery, am
sports— among the latter fishing in par
ticular— the subjects of many articles m
pictures."

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

THE WEEK.

HtUDENTS of Bums cannot complain of
^ any lack of material. Besides Mr.
jlenley's Burns, a host in itself, there
'appeared last year Burns and his Times ;
^'he Ayrshire Homes and Haunts of Burns ;
pums, Excise Officer and Poet; Burns' s
\Clarinda ; and Burns from Heaven. Now
kppears George Thomson, the Friend of
fiurns : His Life and Correspondence, by Mr.
jr. Cuthbert Hadden. Thomson's weU-
biown correspondence with Bums is not
ncluded in the volume, which is made up of
he correspondence of Thomson with Hogg,
'3yron, Moore, Lockhart, Campbell, and
ithers, including Beethoven, whom he
imployed to write airs for his Collection of
Scottish Songs and Airs. A convincing por-
rait of Thomson is given by way of
rontispiece.

In Tourgueneff and his French Circle we
lave a record, mainly in the form of letters,
|if the great Eussian novelist's relations with
hat brilliant band of French writers with
jrhich he became connected. We extract
|lie following passage from Miss Ethel M.
imold's translation of the French edition
f the Letters by M. Halperini-Kaninsky.
;t tells what Tourgueneff's " French Circle "
pally was, and how he was introduced to it :

I " It was the Viardot family who introduced
I'ourgueneff to the French world of art and
litters. In their house, soon after he arrived
|i Paris in 1847, he met for the first time
eorges Sand, an old friend of Louis Viardot's,
jitli whom she had founded, in 1841, the
jV-ywe Indepeiidante. But it was not till later
u that, owing to Flaubert, their intercourse
?came regular.

About the same time he made the acquaint-
ice of Merimee, who was already known as
le translator of several of the masterpieces of
ussiaa Hterature ; about the same time, also,
' 8 friendship with Charles Edmond developed
^ to intimacy. He had first met M. Edmond at
lerlin, and came across him again at the house
I' Mme. Jazykov, one of his compatriots, which
iiuse the famous revolutionary Bakonnine,
id the exiled Bussian author Herzen also
iBquent.

It was Charles Edmond who, on one single
teasion, introduced Tourgueneff to all the men
jrming the Slite of the literary world at this
iriod— Sainte-Beuve, Theophile Gautier, Flau-
prt, the Goncourt brothers, Taine, Berthelot,
;3nan, Gavami, Paul de Saint- Victor, Scherer,
larles Blanc, Adrien Hibard, Fromentin,
i-oca, Ribot, NefFtzer, &c.— in a word, to all
:e guests of the famous dinners at the Magny
istaurant. He met them then for the first
iue, except Flaubert, whom he had known
lice 1858. In this connexion we read in the
tiirml des Ooncourt, under the date of the 23rd
• January, 1863 :

i' Dinner at Mayiiy's : Charles Edmond
ought Tourgueneff, that foreign writer with
i|ch a graceful talent, author of T/ie M^moires
im Seigneur Basse, and of The Hamlet Russe.
-3 is a great, big, charming fellow, a gentle
(int with bleached hair, and looks Uke the
Jadly genius of a mountain or a forest. He
■ handsome — magnificently, immensely hand-
sale—with the blue of heaven in his eyes, and
W charming Eussian sing - song voice, in
"uch there is just something both of the
<ild and of the negro. Being put at his ease
I the ovation that was given to him, he

103

telked m a curious and interesting way about
Russian hterature, which he declares to be weU
launched upon the tide of reahsm, from the
novel to the play.'

Guizot had already expressed the wish to
know the author of Le Journal d'un Homme de
trop. which had greatly struck him ; and
Lamartme describes enthusiastically his first
meeting with Tourgueneff. The Russian
novehst was also on terms of regular inter-
course with Jules Simon, Edmond About,
Gounod, Augier, Maxime Ducamp, Victor
^ngo, Jules Janin, Francisque Sarcey, and
Jule^ Claretie ; and later on he was mtroduced
by i^Iaubert to the young naturalistic school
represented by Zola and Daudet, who, together
with Ed. de Goncourt, Flaubert, and Tourgueneff
made up that httle ' Company of Five ' which
met at a monthly dinner, sometimesat Flaubert'n
sometunes at the house of the Goncourt brothers.
Fmally, through Zola, Tourgueneff made the
acquaintance of the young writers who col-
laborated in the Soirees de Medan, and especially
of Guy de Maupassant.

The Book of the Year is a new work of
reference, and is issued by Messrs. Eoutledge
& Sons. The volume before us is a carefully
compiled chronological table of 1897. The
events of last year are arranged under their
dates day by day, and a copious index
enables the reader to discover at once the
page on which the race for the Waterloo
Plate, or the Opening of the New Gallery,
or the Arrival of M. Faure at Cronstadt,
or any other event, is recorded. It is extra-
ordinary that such an annual has not
been issued before ; but surely a better title
would be The Book of Last Year.

An event of the week has been the pub-
lication of D'Annunzio's Tlie Triumph of
Death in an English translation by Mrs.
Georgianna Harding. This is the first of
D'Annunzio's novels to be rendered into
English and to be published in England.
There have been American translations of
some of his works.

NEW BOOKS EECEIVED.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

The GosPEt of Commow Skhhe. By Stephen Claye.

Simpkin, Marshall & Co.
The Bibli Teok feom the Beqinking. By Edward

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Si. Paci's Epistle to the Kpuzsians. By Charles Gore,

D.D. John Murray.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
Joseph Aech: the Stoet op His Life. Told by Himself.

Hutchinson k Co. 12s.
Raid and Refoeu. By a Pretoria Prisoner : Alfred P.

Hillier. Macmillan & Co. 6s.
Under the Dbagon Flag : Mt ExpEuiBircss in the

Ckino-Japanese Wak. By James Allan. Wm. Heine-

mann.
Petek the Qeeat. ByK. Waliszewski. Translated from

the French by Lady Mary Loyd. Wm. Heinemaun.

Cheap edition in 1 volume. 6s.
TouBGu^NEFP AND His Fesnch Cibclb. Edited by E.

Halferine-Kanlnsky. Translated by Ethel M. Arnold.

T. Fisher TJnwin. 78. 6d.
Social England Series : Alien Ihuigeants to England.

By W. Cunningham, D.D. Svran Sonnenschein & Co.

4s. 6d.
History of the City of Rohb in the Middle Ages. By

Ferdinand Gregorovius. Translated from the Fourth

German Edition by Annie Hamilton. Vol. V. : Parts

I. andlC. George Bell 1 Sons. 9s.
Index to the Peeeogative Wills of Ireland, 1636-1910.

Edited by Arthur Vicars, F.S.A. Edward Pousonby.

France (St. Louis). By Rev. E. J. Davis. Samp«,n

THE Bcilding of the Khpiee. By Alfred Thomas Story
2 vols. Chapman & Hall 14g. """uw owiy.

POETRY, CRITICISM. BELLES LETTRES

'"j'rDer^cr "'• ^''''' '^ "■ ^^^ «"^'''-

The Tekple Classics: the Vicar of Wakefield. By
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Domestic Verses. By D. M. Moir (Delta). Centenary

Edition. Wm. Blackwood ft Sons.
Ephemera : a Collection of Occasional Vebse. By J M

Cobbett. AldenftCo. (Oxford). 28. 6d
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NEW EDITIONS OF FICTION.
A Monk of Fife. By Andrew Lang. Longmans, Green
&Co.

EDUCATIONAL.
Modern Persian Colloquial Geammae. By Dr. Fritz
Rosen. Luzac&Co. Passages foe Unseen Teansla-
TION (Latin and Greek). Edited by A. M. Cook,
M.A., and E. C. Marchant, M.A. Methnen&Co. 38. 6d.
The Stylogeaphy of the English Language. By
Dr. BrojonathShaha. Patrick Press Co. (Calcutta). A
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Longmans, Green & Co. 28. 6d. The Stoey of ih»
Geeeis. By H. A. Guerber. Wm. Heinemann. 3g. 6d.

MISCELLANEOUS.
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Some Account of Cbuechgoing. Watts & Co. Golf.
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ON Somb of the Phenomena of Natuee. By James
Walker. Swan Sonnenschein & Co. The Antkjuaky:
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Small Incomes. By Florence stacpoole. Walter
Scott, Ltd. 28. 6d. Allegoeies. By Frederic W.
Farrar. Longmans, Green ft Co. 6s. Complete Peb-
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189J. Swan Sonnenschein & Co, 28. 6d.

CORRESPONDENCE.

THE AUTHOR'S FIGUEES.

Sir, — Mr. Nutt, by way of wriggling out,
shifts his ground. I cajinot allow him to
do so.

(1) His "main issue" was a statement
which had no foundation. This I bowled
over with the greatest ease. In consequence,
down dropped all his figures.

(2) He now says that his "main issue"
was that an inquiry should have been made.
Very well. An answer to that is quite as
easy. The essential conditions of the case
were before us. We had nothing to learn,
because we knew exactly what was proposed
to do.

(3) Mr. Heinemann wants me to with-
draw my "Catonian jest": "Heinemannus
delendus est." Dear me ! I have never
made any such " Catonian jest." I am
sorry to say anything that may wound
Mr. Heinemann's feelings, but I really have
never expressed any such sentiment. I can
assure liim that I should contemplate his

104

THE ACADEMY.

[Jaw. 22, 1898.

destruction with no emotion at all, either of
joy or sorrow.

(4) He wants me to " prove my asser-
tions, and to name the person who pretends
to have spent £14 on advertising, when £5
is nearer the mark." I really wish your
readers would turn to your columns of
January 8, or let me repeat my assertion.
This I cannot but call an unfortunate mis-
representation. Nothing at all had been
spent; we were talking only of an agree-
ment. There had been no account. There
was not the slightest allegation of any
pretence whatever. These are my actual
words :

Mr. Nutt " tries to get out by asking if £14
is all that is spent on advertising a Barrie.
A B»rrie, indeed! The book before me was
one which no one would produce, except at
the author's cost. I can assure your readers
that not £14, but £5 is nearer the mark in
such a book as this."

Where is the pretence ? — I am. Sir,
yours, &c., Walter Besant.

Jan. 18, 1898.

[This correspondence must now cease. —
Ed. Academy.]

EDUCATION FOR THE CIVIL SER-
VICE OF INDIA.

Sir, — May I crave permission to add a
few remarks to the article in your valuable
paper of Saturday last on education for the
Indian Civil Service, by way of supplement-
ing it by a series of facts bearing on that
subject?

In speaking of the institutes where Indian
Civil Service candidates are prepared for
the Open Competition, the writer of the
article does not say a word about an educa-
tional institute where more than one-third
of the successful candidates have received
an education enabling them to pass that
examination. I mean Mr. Walter Wren's
Institute. Surely, when candidates, after
having gone through two or three years of
Oxford or Cambridge, fail at their first
attempt at the Open Competition, and then,
after a year's instruction at " Wren's," pass
at their next trial, it cannot in common
fairness be said that they were prepared at
Oxford or Cambridge. Yet this is what is
officially and semi-officially said. The can-
didates themselves, of course, know better.
A " man " who at his first trial made 1,000
marks and failed, and at his second trial,
after a year's study at Wren's, makes 2,100
marks and passes, such a man - and their
number is very considerable— will hardly
think that he owed the great success of his
life to an institute other than that of Mr.
Wren.

Sir, I have the honour to be one of Mr.
Wren's lecturers ; yet in calling attention
to the above facts I am not speaking pro
donio. Mr. Wren can well dispense with
my pleading. I am prompted by a sense
of justice to the great pedagogical achieve-
ments of a teacher who has, both in
person and through his lecturers guided by
him, taught I.O.S. candidates how to be
accurate, lucid, and terse, and thereby
secured the success of hundreds of men
who have ably done the work of English
rule in India. — I am, yours, &c.,

Emil Reioh.

" WHAT A SCHOOLBOY READS."

Sir, — I hope you will allow one who
read with much pleasure, and not a little
amusement, your recent article on "What a
Schoolboy Reads " to add a few words on
this subject, which is, perhaps, of more real
importance than one is inclined at first sight
to think.

Eighteen months ago, as a young school-
master, responsible among other things
for the essay-writing of the upper classes
in a small grammar school (about fifty
boarders) in the South of England, it was
one of my chief cares to get the boys, by all
possible means, to read good English with a
view to improving tlioir own. I was, in
fact, like " Burnup," in your article,
" awfuUy keen on getting the chaps to read
good books."

Almost immediately after my arrival, with
a view to finding out what the boys had
read, I set as my essay subject to the first
two classes (boys ranging from 17 to 13
years of age), "Your favourite author."
The best essay shown up was on Thackeray
by a boy of fifteen, who had read Vanity
Fair, Esmond, The Newcomes, and the
Ballads. One boy (aged 16) chose Dickens,
one Conan Doyle, and four or five Sir
Walter Besant, who was, I found, a general
favourite with the bigger boys. Among
the yoimgsters Henty was almost uni-
versally chosen ; but the fact that almost
all his books have a thread of history run-
ning through them was generally considered
a blemish. Not one boy, so far as I could
discover, cared much for Kingston.

As the school library was unfortunately
not very largo, I decided, not without some
trepidation, to give the elder boys the run
of my own library, such as it was. The
results were interesting.

The boy who had written on Thackeray
took at once to Miss Austen and Charlotte
Bronte and, I think, read all the works of
these two authoresses in the course of the
year I remained at the school. Three or
four other boys read and enjoyed Jane Ei/re
and Villette, but could not read Miss Austen
at all. To five or six boys, all aged about
fifteen, I read Stevenson's New Arabian
Nights, and they all took the keenest interest
in it. There was a curious divergence of
opinion concerning Mr. Stanley Weyman's
books. Some boys thought him splendid,
others " couldn't stand tindsr tht Red Robe
or The Red Cockade at any price." I could
never persuade the boys to venture on any
poetry except Tlie Bah Ballads, Verses and
Translations (omitting the translations), F!y-
Leares and Humorous Poems of the Cenluri/.
Essays were in no demand ; in fact, my only
success in this line consisted in once getting
a boy to read The Pleasures of Life, which
he described as "not half bad."

Lorna Boone was an immense favourite,
Rodney Stone was popular with the boys of
fourteen to sixteen. My copy of Baron
Munchausen was so much read by the smaller
boys that it soon became worthless.

I had no copy of Eric ; or. Little hy Little,
in my library, but I never yet came across a
manly boy who could stand it. One very
favourite book I find I have omitted — The
Three Musqueteers. One or two of the bigger

boys enjoyed, somewhat to my surprise,
Kenneth Grahame's Golden Age.

I hope that these jottings may be of some
interest to those interested in boys' litera.
ture. — I am, yours, &c.,

Charles H. S. MATrnEws.

Leeds, Jan. 18, 1898.

THE BOOKSELLING QUESTION
AGAIN.

Sir, — May I without giving mortal offence
to a deserving body of men offer my own
observations on the bookselling question ?

In most businesses the trader possesses
some special technical knowledge of the
goods in which he deals. The draper or
silk mercer can form his own judgment of
the quality of his cloths or his silks. The
jeweller must possess very special know-
ledge. The dealer in musical instruments
knows something of music ; and so with
other trades. What special knowledge of
books does the ordinary booksellers possess ?
Less, I should say, than the average well-
infonned customer. There is, indeed, one
branch of the bookselling business which
demands (and I suppose repays) special
knowledge^namely, that which is con-
cerned with second-hand books ; and in
London and some other cities there are
men of great skill and intelligence who
devote themselves to this. In the city from
which I write (one of the most important in
the kingdom, but which I refrain from
naming), although there are many
second-hand bookshops, there is not one
that seems to be managed with the skill
which such a business, to be thoroughly
successful, requires. Is there any reason
why a bookseller in a provincial town
should not combine the old and the new
book trade? It would be good for him,
good for the customer, and, I should think,
good for literature. Then, again, as to
foreign books. The foreign booksellers in
London form a separate class,' well-in f(jrmed
and capable of advising their customers.
In this city, as in most provincial towns, the
same bookseller deals in English and foreign
books, but of the latter he is scarcely able
even to read the titles, even if he can do
that. He is, in fact, dependent on his
London agent. I myself buy a good many
foreign books, and one or two London firms
from time to time bring to my notice books
which they think likely to attract me. The
local bookseller has not knowledge enough
to do this: he knows of nothing but the
parcel sent him from London. It appears
to me that this is not the way in which other
businesses are conducted. Bookselling of
this character could be carried on quite as
well by a stationer or a draper. — I am
yours, &c., 2.

NEWSPAPER ENGLISH.

Sir,— While I am substantially in agree-
ment with Mr. Nisbet, I should like to
enlarge on one particular in which he has
neglected to fall back upon the Anglo-Saxon
evidence, which he has in other cases shown
himself able to use trenchantly and well. 1
refer to what he says on "none" as a
plural, and to his condemnation of "a

Jan. 22, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

105

lambles," "a gasworks," which though
■eated by him as a sojiarate item, really
ills under the same head, because the
•ucial point in both instances turns uj)on
a" or "one," of which "none" is merely
I derivative. What I wish to observe is
■lat in Anglo-Saxon (as in Icelandic)
iural words with a singular moaning can

0 preceded by "one" with plural inflec-
bns; although " to a gasworks " naturally
1)68 not occur, such a dative as to aniim
lidhea/dum is exactly parallel. A further
ost interesting example of such plural con-
Iruction is afforded by the phrase '| a few
lords." To the modem man " few " is here

1 singular noim ; even the J^eio English
\ictionary treats it as such ; but historically

is a plural adjective, and " a " before it is
|so plural, as is proved by the Anglo-
jixon anefeawa worda. — I am yours, &c.,
James Platt, Junior.
177, St. Martin's-Iane : Jan. 19, 1898.

I Sir, — The remarks of Mr. Earl Hodgson
lid those of Mr. J. F. Nisbet in the
jcADBMY concerning newspaper English
light, no doubt (as the latter justly says),
ii considerably extended. It is likewise
jue that in his meticulous exactitude the
reader" in newspaper offices often trenches
I the absurd, and that the intelligent com-
]isitor is at times a fearsome wild beast.
jot — and Mr. Nisbet, one is sure, would be
iger to admit it — all of us who have to
«ter these offices owe a debt for many
1 inadvertence remedied, many an error
i indolence or momentary forgetfulness
aoided, to the patient man with the strong
ijectacles who " reads us " for press.
And (equally, of course) all of us have
S)ries to tell of weird adventures in this
(jQnexion. I remenxber once being sent by
droligious newspaper to "do" a descrip-

38 account of a memorial sermon, by (I
Ink) the late Master of Balliol. Prof.
Jwott opened with an impressive citation of
1. Ixviii. 17 (the printer's reader will cor-
i;t me if the reference is wrong), and I
tiuscribed the exordium verhatim — perhaps
i couple of stickfuls. When the paper
Que out this opening passage was thus
ijnted: "The chariots of God are 20,000,
^3n thousands of angels." The figures
Hd an effect indescribably funny on e very-
da but me !

,One wonders whether the printer has
tan maligidy illustrating Mr. Nisbet's
aictures with the word " objectional"
y.ich your contributor is made to use, or
fc? Mr. Nisbet rebelled against a word
Vich is certainly an "objection-to-able"
0(3 as ordinarily used. It is difficult to
Si how "objectionable" is better than
' oliable." Someone once questioned Mr.
\. 8. Gilbert's use of " coyful," as an
ajjective (it rhymes so usefully to an other-
V|<e rather unrhjrmeable word, that " Bab "
iiirather fond of it). The critic said that
yi "cannot very well be full of coy."
\. Gilbert, whom none criticise with safety,
rwrted that bashful is a good word enough
'let I cannot, or at least I don't think I
cji, be full of bash," and the criticised
c|dc had not wherewith to reply! — I
a, yours, &c. T. B. E.

Oulwich: Jan. 18, 1898.

DB. BEANDES AND SHAKESPEAEE'S

SONNETS.

Sir, — The author of the article, " A
German Mare's Nest," in your last number,
is apparently unacquainted with the opinions
which Dr. Brandes has expressed concerning
the date of the Sonnets and the persons
with whom they are mainly concerned. This
I infer from his saying that " Herr Georg
Brandes has yet to run his course." As
I have just been reading with much interest
Brandes's German work on Shakespeare
(1895-6\ I am able to give some infor-
mation on the matter. As to the date,
Brandes accepts as entirely convincing
the evidence which I adduced (first in
the AtheiKBum for September 11, 1880),
that the fifty-fifth sonnet distinctly shows
an acquaintance with Mere's well-known
book, which was entered on the Stationers'
Eegister September, 1598. For Sonnet 104,
with its intimation that three years had
elapsed since Shakespeare became acquainted
with his yovmg male friend, Brandes accepts
the date 1601. With respect to the coinci-
dence between some e.xpressions in the
Sonnets and others in the Venus and Adonis
and the earlier comedies, these, he main-
tains, in no way suffice, notwithstanding
what was put forth by Hermann Isaac, to
demonstrate the date of the Sonnets.

Shakespeare's friend " Mr. W, H."
Brandes finds in young William Herbert.
In his case alone " agree name, age, worldly
circumstances, outward appearance, virtues,
and vices." Coming to London in the
autumn of 1597 or the spring of 1598,
Herbert then, in all probability, formed an
acquaintance with Shakespeare which lasted,
apparently, till the poet's death.

The claims of Herbert having been thus
admitted, there was little difficulty with
respect to Mary Fitton, having regard to
facts in that lady's history which are cer-
tainly known. Quoting Lovers Labour's Lost
(1598), and referring to the title, which
states that the play had been " newly cor-
rected and augmented," and that it was
given as it was presented at Court "this
last Christmas," Brandes easily attains the
conclusion that Biron's eulogy of his brunette
love had been expressly added, or modified,
to accord with the characteristics of Mrs.
Fitton, who would be, in the ordinary-
course, one of the spectators. The agreement
between the play (iv. 3) and Sonnet 127 is
thus easily accounted for. Brandes, also,
rightly attaches importance to the allusion
to the lady's name ("thy name") in
Sonnet 151. This allusion entirely agrees
with the name " Fitton," though it involves
a word-play which would scarcely be re-
garded as decorous in these Victorian days.

I have been referring to Brandes's German
work. Mr. HeLnemann has in the press a
translation of the same author's Danish
work, which has been partly executed by
Mr. William Archer. The two works were
published about the same time, and though,
so far as I am aware, the one is not stated
to be a translation of the other, the views
set forth are no doubt in essential agreement.
— I am, yours, &c.,

Thomas Tylkk.

London: Jan. 17, 1898.

THE BITTEE CEY OF A SECOND-
HAND BOOKSELLEE.

Sir, — It is difficult to understand in what
way Mr. Andrew Lang's experience in the
matter of the cost of a book which he pur-
chased for £4 bears upon the question of
the fairness of a public statement of the
same. Is it not well known that second-
hand booksellers are never rich in the sense
applied to business men generally? Who
ever heard of a millionaire second-hand
bookseller? Yet he is often a man of
considerable intelligence ; becomes a book-
seller not for the sake of making money one
half so much as because he loves that litera-
ture which Mr. Lang adorns ; and he labours
at his calling all the year round, with, per-
haps, but a brief fortnight's rustication
within hearing of the sad sea waves, unso-
laced even by the amenities of goU. He
spends, perhaps, a fourth of his waking
hours in the auction rooms, wasting many a
weary hour, at the gain only of a splitting
headache ; and when, by rare chance, he
does manage to pick up a bargain, Mr.
Lang — a brother, however far removed on a
higher plane, but still a brother in literature
— appears to begrudge him the market
value, and presumably would prefer that he
himself profited by the bookseller's patient
search.

If bookselling were a commercial instead
of a dilettante business the matter would
have been different. Steel pens, for instance,
can be ground out by the million, can be
bought and sold any day, and should
bear an easily ascertainable rate of profit.
Or, leading articles in newspapers can be
written to order and produced any day, and
the rate of remuneration be easily fixed.
But a second-hand book is often a scarce
commodity, and when found is worth its
market value, whatever may have been
given for it. As a matter of fact, it does
not pay for a bookseller to be notoriously
dear, and self-preservation makes him
regulate his prices according to the
true value of his wares. With regard to
an article which cannot be produced to
order, I altogether fail to see why the
dealer, when he does meet with a piece of
luck— all too rare, alas ! — should share his
good fortune with, say, Mr. Lang. In the
opinion of many persons the publication
of trade information for the sake of making
personal profit is unjustifiable to a degree,
and should be protested against by all
concerned. Personally, I care very little
about the matter. It is on principle only
that I object. — I am, yours, &c.,

The Second-hand Bookseller
IN Question.

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.

The Times praises Mr. Phillips's
"Poems." Poems with a certain caution,
^pwnr^r " Marpessa," says this critic, is
"a very lovely treatment" of
the story on which it is based. Some ob-
jection is taken to the subject-matter of one
or two of the poems, and the critic concludes
by saying :

"On the whole, the volume reasserts the

106

THE ACADEMY.

[Jam. 22, 1898.

claini to attention which was made so strikingly
in Mr. Phillips's first poem, but the world
must wait a little longer before it admits him
without cavil or question into the narrow circle
of those poets who have at once a message for
the many and for the few."

The JDaily Chronicle is less hesitating in
its approval. It points out that " in the
science of verse Mr. Phillips is a disciple of
Milton." Of Mr. Phillips's subjects and
outlook we read :

" Almost the whole of this book is concerned
with life and death, largely and liberally con-
templated : it is precisely that kind of contem-
plation which oiu- recent poetry lacks. Poetry,
says Coleridge once more, ' is the blossom and
the fragrancy of all human knowledge, human
passions, human thoughts, emotion, knowledge.'
It should not be didactic, it cannot help being
moral : it must not be instructive, but it must
needs be educative. It is, as it were, the mind
of man 'in excelsis,' caught into a world of
light. We praise Mr. Phillips for many ex-
cellences, but chiefly for the great air and
ardour of his poetry, its persistent loftiness."

The Saturday Revieio regrets the Miltonic
character of Mr. Phillips's verse :

"His blank verse is as beautiful as any
that has recently been written. But he is at
present very much under the influence of the
dangerous Miltonic tradition ; a tradition
dangerous because it tends towards a beautiful
lifelessness, a mechanical replacement of the
living voice by an instrument on which careful
fingers touch elaborate stops. Good Miltonic
verse is, after all, other things being equal, one
of the easiest kinds of verse to write, if one will
permit oneself to write after any model. "When-
ever it is done well, it has an undoubted
charm ; and its actual, as apart from its
relative value, is apt to be over-rated by critics
and readers who do not realise that it is not
enough to do over again, however well, only
what has been done before. . . . Mr.
Phillips has so much genuine poetic quality,
he thinks so poetically, that we are the more
regretful that he has not found his own voice."

The Spectator declares Mr. Phillips shows
the promise of a true poet :

" The true poet must ... be classical, that
is universal. He must lift his subject and its
expression into the sublimer air, and make us
feel that though he writes of England and to-
day, his arrows of song would have gone home
in Athens or Rome, or in the London of
Elizabeth or Anne. He must find his subjects
here and among us, but once found he must
bear them aloft and place them, as stars, in the
heaven of invention, there to rain light and
harmony on us mere ' mortals militant ' below.
To these requirements Mr. PhiUips responds.
He is modem and he is classical. He has
passion and he has imagination."

Literature hails Mr. Phillips as a poet of
much achievement and more promise :

"No such remarkable book of verse as
this has appeared for several years. Mr.
Phillips boldly challenges comparison, both in
style and subject, with the work of great
masters ; the writers whom he makes you think
of range up to Milton and do not fall below
Landor. He attempts nothing smaU, and his
poetry brings with it that sensation of novelty
and that sufi'usion of a strongly marked per-
sonality which stamps a genuine poet. The
volimie of his work is not great, but it is con-
siderable, about equal in length to the
' Gteorgics ' ; it contains abundant perform-
ance; and even when promise exceeds per-
formance it is promise of the most interesting
kind."

This critic quotes the following passage
" as showing Mr, Phillips not perhaps in
Ms inost original or characteristic aspect,
but at the height of his technical achieve-
ment " :

' How wonderful in a bereaved ear
The Northern "Wind : how strange the summer

night.
The exhaling earth to those who vainly love.
Out of our sadness have we made the world
So beautiful ; the sea sighs in our brain,
And in our hearts the yearning of the moon.
To all this sorrow was I bom, and since
Out of a human womb I came, I am
Not eager to forego it ; I would scorn
To elude the heaviness and take the joy,
For pain came with the gap, pangs with the

bloom :
This is the sting, the wonder.'

No man in our generation and few in any
generation have written better than this."

The Standard reviews Mr. Phillips's book
among a crowd of volumes of minor verse,
and does not so much as mention "Mar-
pessa."

"Dariei." • ^HE critics do not think
By E. D. Black- Dariel quite worthy of Mr.
more. Blackmore. " The novel, as a
whole," says the Standard critic,

"is very far from being a fair type of what
Mr. Blackmore can do. His humour is de-
generating. It is not funny when George has
asked Bob Slemmick,' Did you spend the whole
of your time in that enchanted valley ? ' to have
Bob answering, ' Ah, a chant it were, by gum !
A chant I could listen to,' nor humorous to talk
of a window being ' lighted by leaded diamonds
which were certainly not brilliants.' Nor to
tell us that Farmer Ticknor was ' rather crusty
now, as a man is apt to be who lives on a crust
for the benefit of foreigners.' Nor is any of the
talk between George and his sister Grace the
least conceivable ; given that, though they are
poor, and George is practically a farmer and
Grace a dairymaid, they belong to the squire-
aichy, are the children of Sir Harold Cranleigh,
and of a family that had been on its land
before the Conquest. It seems, by the way,
that the families of Saxon descent, in our Eng-
land of to-day, treat their women-folk in quite
a different fashion from that favoured by those
who have Norman blood in their veins. The
portions of the story which entitle it to be
called a romance are interesting, and as fan-
tastic as any of Mi-. Blackmore's admirers could
wish. But they might have been unfolded
more gradually. Much hangs on Sur Imar's
story, which is narrated in three chapters."

The Daily Hews' critic calls the story " a
good book marred." He takes objection to
the author's Protectionist views, and likens
Mr. Blackmore to Jeremiah. ' ' This blemish,
alienating sympathy, and appealing to the
grossest class selfishness, mars an otherwise
picturesque and exhilarating romance."

The Daily Telegraph is kinder: " The story
is admirably told " ; but there is a hint of
agreement with more severe critics : " To-
wards the end, where the interest becomes
more concentrated, it grips the reader's
attention like a vice. In the earlier parts,
pleasant and charming as Mr. Blackmore
always is, his discursive tendencies impair in
some degree the attractiveness of the tale."

"LordOrmont ^nE new revised edition of

and this novel, issued by Messrs.

ms A^inta." Constable, has elicited the fol-

George lowing from a Daily Mwn

critic. "We shall quote the

latter half of it. The writer says :

"It is interesting that in Lcrd Ormont and
His Aminta Mr. Meredith should again have
chosen a couple who ' offend good citizenship,'
the woman being stUl one to ' walk on the
straight line.' "We have more than one
allusion to the ' Nature versus Society ' problem
which occupied him in One of Oar CoiKjuerors.
Here, indeed, he does not so often mount the
lecture-rostrum, and the resiJt of h-s self-denial
is a novel more perfect in form — an altogether
better story. But he evidently desires to show
how a man and a woman may succeed where
Victor Radnor aud Nataly came to grief, and
there can be no doubt that in both novels he is
preaching rather than narrating. In Lord
Ormont, at least, he seems to be not altogether
honest, for the happiness of Weybui-n and
Aminta is made to dej^end on an ' economy of
truth,' a basis that seems to us essentially un-
Meredithian. It is evident from their conver-
sation in the last chapter that tbey were living
under false pretences, even concealing their true
position from the parents of their pupils. That
they were not foimd out by society, that their
plans and hopes were not shattered and them-
selves driven, like "Victor and Nataly, from
place to place, was a pure fluke, and it is im-
possible not to see it. They shirked the conse-
quences of their action just as Victor did, aud if
Mr. Meredith sought to show that Victor's
overthrow was inevitable we cannot see any
logical ground for their success. One does not
necessarily mean that this couple were under
any obligation to advertise the world of what
they had done, but they should not have jiriic-
tised deception upon those whom it concerned
to know the truth. Nor is it necessary to
discuss the question whether their elopement
was justifiable or not; it is their subsequent
behaviour that is the essential matter of inte est,
and we contend that in breaking a convention,
and then pretending that they have not broken
it, "Weybum and Amita do not follow the
course which tiie author in One of oar Con-
querors seemed to approve. It is, of course,
unpleasant to be forced on to these lines of
criticism; but Mr. Meredith practically lays
them down for one by his 'asides.' It is im-
possible to accept the story simply as a narrative
of events that happened so, when one is con-
stantly told how and why such and such things
'ought' to happen. Lord Ormont uitd His
Aminta is weak in those stern qualities which
make the strength of One of Our Gonqmrors,
but it excels in nearly every respect in which
its predecessor is deficient. There are passages
in this book unsurpassed in beauty and grace by
anything Mr, Meredith ever wi-ote. There are,
of course, the usual puzzles— e.g., why does Mr.
Meredith call the mark over the n in Pagnell
a cedilla ? "What does he mean by a man who
is a distinguished ' member ' ,and ornament of
chosen seats above ? And what language does
he draw upon for the epithet ' thrasyloon,'
which he applies to a coxcomb f Presumably
it means presumjituous, but is it either Greek
or English ?

And why, finally, is Mrs. Lawrence Finchley
(like Mrs. Mountstuart Jenkinson and others)
constantly denied her surname and called
Mrs. Lawrence, or Isabella Lawrence? But
such chapters as the first two, 'Lovers
Mated,' ' A Marine Duet,' aud the pages im-
mediately before it arc enough to prove that
Mr. Meiedith's fancy has preserved its fresh-
ness, and his style all its old vigour and colour
and charm."

Jan. 22, 18y8.^

THK ACADEMY.

107

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Jan.

1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

Ill

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• OP THE

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poets, as well as the English poets, pretty closely But scholarship has not destroyed the

writer's spontaneity. Some of his lyrics are quite exquisite. But neither the classical nor the
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CONTENTS OF THE MAGAZINES.

BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.

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And Eight Complete Stories by

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CHAPMAN i HALL, Ltd., London.

EPPS'S COCOA.

Extracts feo.« a Lecibrb on ' Foods and theib Valcib,'
Br Db. Andrew Wilson, F.R.S.E., ic— " If any molives-
flrst, of dae regard for health, and second, of getting full
food-value for money expended— can be said to weigh with
Us in choosing our foods, then I say that Cocoa (Epps's
being the most nutritious) should be made to replace tea and
coffee without hesitation. Cocoa is a food ; tea and coSee
are not foods. This is the whole science of the matter in
a nutshell, and he who runs may read the obvious moral of
the story,"

114

THE JACADEMY.

[Jan. 29, 1898.

with his apple wasn't in it ; it was a case of
once bitten soon gone. Then I would hurry
on to make up for my diwdliog with only the
hunch of barl-y bre id in my wallet, the joys of
the dumpling behind me, and before me the
day's drudgery with perhaps a thrashing
thrown in."

No coukur de rose peasanthood here, but a
struggle on the utmost confines of existence !
To complete the picture, take the following
paragraph and consider the pathos of that
pride which the author expresses by italics :

' ' Numbers of people used to go to the
rectory for soup, but not a drop of it did we
touch. I have stood at our door with my
mother, and I have seen her face look sad as
she watched the Uttle children toddle past
carrying the tin cans, and their toes coming
out of their boots. 'Ah, my boy,' she once
said, 'you shall never, never, do that. I will
work these fingers to the bone before you have
to do it ! ' She was as good as her word. /
■never went to the rectory fw soup."

We can scarcely be wrong in assum-
ing that the extracts will serve to show
what a stern view is presented in this book
of the life of country swains. Here Corydon
blows not " on chaunter or on oaten straw,"
but is visible only as a grim figure shoulder-
ing the pickaxe or the spade. And if at
times he refreshes himself with music, it is
indignation that makes the verses. A number
of the ditties sung by shepherds are given
here. In most cases their character will be
indicated by the first line, such as " There's
a man who represents our shire," " 0, work-
man, awake, for the strife is at hand," or

" Arch is goin? to ParUament
With a grand majority."

Phyllis is not seen dancing on the village
green, but is doing laundry and charing
work at next to nothing a week. Both ex-
press what dim poetry is in them by being
pious and Methodist, and singing hymns
that are mere doggrel, if those quoted by
Mr. Arch are good samples. A very dismal
account of country life, says the reader; and
he is right, but in dismalness lies its dis-
tinction.

And now the literary conscience bids
us add a few words of criticism. The
Countess of Warwick has done her work
well, but she would have done it better
had she persuaded Mr. Arch to tone
down his rhetoric and compress his lan-
guage. The book would have been of
priceless value if more of those reminiscences
of yiUage life had been given and the aston-
ishingly tedious discourses shorn away. Mr.
Joseph Arch on the Game Laws to the
tune of thirty pages, emigration twenty-two
pages. Franchise twenty - two pages, the
Agricultural Labourers' Union x pages (we
cannot sum them all up, they are the most
tedious of all), and that bugbear the Agricul-
tural Depression twenty-three pages, is not
stimulating. He is not a thinker, therefore
makes no great addition to our knowledge ;
not a great writer, and so fails to keep our
attention. Also he interlards his narrative
with yards of old speeches — a most repre-
hensible practice. Nothing grows old sooner
than a political oration — why, even those of
Bright and Gladstone and Disraeli can only
be read now with an effort. But on the
other hand, all his anecdotes and sayings

and doings are worthy of careful preserva-
tion, because they help to build up a
character that any novelist would have been
proud of creating. For conceive what a
fertile imagination could have made of him !
A Eadical of the Eadicals, repeating the
notorious phrase that angered Bishop
Fraser, to the effect that he would view with
equanimity streets flowing with the blood
of landlords, yet proud to represent the
Prince of Wales, and be patronised by the
Countess of Warwick ; an agitator and
organiser obliged to defend himself from
the gravest accusations brought forward by
his own colleagues, yet declaring himself
the chosen of God ; a political propagandist,
a Methodist preacher, the " champion
hedger," and a Member of Parliament, at
one moment scuffling for his share of charity,
at another dining with peers and celebrities
— was there ever such a grotesque mingling
of attributes ? The book is one for future
novelists to plunder.

THE LATE PEOF. DEUMMOND'S
POPULAEITY.

The Ideal Life, and Other Unpublished Ad-
dresses. By Henry Drummond, F.E.8.E.
(Hodder & Stoughton.)

This volume contains some dozen addresses
or short sermons delivered by the late Prof.
Drummond between his twenty-sixth and
thirtieth years, and before he had gained
the ear of the public. They are all devoted
to points of what is called practical re-
ligion, and any discussion of them here
would therefore be out of place. The two
biographical sketches by Dr. Eobertson
NicoU and Ian Maclaren with which the
book opens, will, however, give much
food for reflection to all who are interested
in literature.

This is the gi-eater paradox, as Prof.
Drummond's place in literature is a very
small one. During his University career at
Edinburgh he distinguished himself in
science, and his subsequent appointment to
the lectureship in Natural Science (after-
wards raised to a professorial chair) at the
Free Church College in Glasgow, seemed to
mark out his future course in life. He
appears to have been an excellent teacher,
especially in geology and botany, and to
have kept himself thoroughly familiar with
the biological theories of the day. His
devotion to his work was shown by the
visit that he paid to Lake Tanganyika,
and the privations which he there suffered
in the collection of specimens. Although
in orders, he never allowed himself to be
addressed as "Eeverend," abjured clerical
clothes, and seldom went to church. But
for his early death, he might have been
expected, by those who knew only this side
of him, to sink into the ordinary type of
college professor, and to write, in his old
age, a gigantic work on the Lepidoptera
which would be praised by many and read
by few.

But Henry Drummond was, both by birth
and training, a Celt, and possessed the
double personality so often to be found in

the Celtic race. Within the quiet and
undistinguished man of science, there lurked
another Henry Drummond animated with
the evangelical fervour of a St. Francis
d'Assisi or a Savonarola. Born of the
straitest sect of Calvinists, there is no reason
to suppose that he ever wavered in his faith ;
but it is evident, to anyone who will read
between the lines of the present sketches,
that what Calvinists would call his "con-
version" dated from the visit of "the
American evangelist, Mr. Moody," to Edin-
burgh in 1873. Thereafter he joined him-
self with Moody ; conducted for two years
an evangelical campaign in England, Scot-
land, and Ireland ; and, according to Dr.
NicoU, saved the Free Church from the
doom which its too conservative view of
" traditional Christianity " was bringing
upon it, by showing the world that the most
characteristic doctrines of Calvinism were
perfectly consistent with the acceptance of
the latest conclusions of natural science.
Spurred on by his success as an evangelist,
he resolved to appeal to a wider audience
than he had hitherto addressed, and pub-
lished, in 1883, a selection from his spoken
lectures under the title of Natural Law in
the Spiritual World. The residt must have
exceeded his wildest hopes. Dr. Nicoll tells
us that 120,000 copies have been sold in
England alone, while the American and
foreign editions are "beyond count." A
smaller book on something of the same lines
ran into the third of a million, and his
charmingly written but extremely brief
account of his adventures in East Central
Africa reached a sale of 34,000. Dr. Nicoll
is certainly within the mark when he
suggests that no living novelist ever had
so many readers.

Some small part of this success may,
perhaps, be accounted for by the extent of
his personal influence. Henry Drummond
appears to have been one of those rare
persons who win everj'body with whom
they come in contact as if by magic.
To a handsome presence, and manners so
gentle that he is said never to have uttered
an unkind word, he joined a real refinement
of mind and qualifications not to be foimd
in the ordinary evangelist. His information,
if not profound, was extensive and accurate,
and both his biographers dwell significantly
on the fact that he was always perfectly
dressed. When we add to this a real gift
of humour and the utter absence of vanity,
it is no wonder that he made his way
equally with high and low.

"He received," says Dr. Nicoll, "more of
the confidences of people untouched by the
ordinary work of the Church than any other
man of his time. Men and women came to him
in their deepest and bitterest perplexities. . . •
He was an ideal confessor."

To Ian Maclaren, indeed, his personal mag-
netism is so extraordinary that he thinks it
necessary to record that " he had given
much attention to the occult arts, and was at
one time a very successful mesmerist." If
this were the cause of it, the sooner occult
arts are added to the present curriculum of
every theological college the better.

But whatever effect his personal influence
may have had on his hearers, it is plain that
thousands of his readers can never have seen

Jan. 29. 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

115

his face or heard his voice, and we must
therefore look deeper for the cause of his
popularity as a writer. It was certainly not
due to the literary merit of his books. In
his earlier works, consisting as they did of
lectures largely addressed to working men,
his style, perhaps rightly, did not rise above
that of the ordinary sermon. Natural Law
in the Spiritual World in particular is full of
piled- up illustration and rhetorical repetitions
designed to produce in slow minds the
assent which apparently follows the adver-
tiser's constant assertion that somebody's
tea is the best. His later books, such as
Tropical Africa and the Ascent of Man, show
a g^eat advance upon this, and display in
parts hterary gifts of a high order. Yet
the change can hardly have been to the
taste of his readers, for the sale of these last
is reckoned by tens instead of hundreds of
thousands. Nor can it be said that his
theories gained universal acceptance. People
do not so readily change their preconceived
opinions, and while from the Agnostic camp,
Mr. Samuel Laing courteously complained
that Prof. Drummond should have proved
instead of assuming the existence of a
spiritual world before attempting to describe
its legislation, many orthodox writers de-
tected in his utterances such theological
unsoundness that they talked much of
a prosecution for heresy. These attacks
were, perhaps, to be expected, but it is
certainly astonishing to hear from Ian
Maclaren that Drummond saw before his
death the weakness of the position which
Natural Law inthe Spiritual World was written
to defend, and that he no longer believed
the laws of nature to extend beyond the
physical universe. "My own idea," says Ian
I Maclaren of the book in question, ' ' is that
i he had abandoned its main contention and
i much of its teaching, and would have been
I quite willing to see it withdrawn from the
I public." A theory so soon given up by
its author could hardly be expected to make
I many converts.

I On the whole, therefore, we are led to

think the popularity of Drummond's writings

due to their purpose rather than to their

contents. He was the first to notice that

I the reluctant acquiescence by the leaders

I of religious thought in scientific doctrines

I which they had at first rejected, haddone more

; than anything else to create distrust of their

I judgment. Those who saw, for instance,

the open teaching in religious seminaries

I of the evolutionary theories once scouted

I by the orthodox as contrary to revelation,

] could hardly help looking in future to

reason rather than to authority for the

support of their faith.

I "The authority of authority," saidDrummond,
I" is waning. . . . And it was inevitable.
lAuthority — man's authority, that is — is for
jchildren. And there, necessarily, comes a time
iwhen thoy add to the question — What shall I
do ? or, What shall I believe ? the adult's inter-
rogation—Why ? "

Nor did he blink the fact that the study of
■latural science and its methods in itself
"aised obstacles to the unquestioning accept-
ince of religious dogmas :

"No man can study modem science," he
laid, " without a change coming over his view
M truth. , . . And the integrity of the scientific

method so seizes him that all other forms of
truth begin to appear comparatively unstable."

Later, he tells us what are the "other
forms of truth " he means :

" Science cannot overthrow Faith; but it
shakes it. Its own doctrines, grounded in
Nature, are so certain that the truths of
EeUgion, resting to most men on authority,
are felt to be strangely insecure."

It was, then, to those who had found
their religious faith shaken by their acquain-
tance with science that his princijial works
were confessedly addressed, and the result
proved that this class of doubters is an
astonishingly large one. Yet to doubt is
not to deny, and the majority of those who
rushed to read Drummond's books un-
questionably hoped to find in them the
main truths of religion established by proof
as cogent as that of any scientific proposi-
tion. That they did not do so is, of course,
notorious ; and, as we have seen, Drum-
mond's arguments eventually failed to
satisfy even himself. Hence the constantly
increasing army of unwilling doubters has
had to betake itself to newer, but no surer
guides, and a large audience is therefore
waiting for any writer who wUl attempt to
bridge over the gulf which still yawns
between science and religion. Let us hope
that everyone who does so will bring to the
task the high ideal, the deep earnestness,
and the candid mind of Henry Drummond.

THE PEOPHET AS POET.

JEzekiel. Edited by E. &. Moulton, M.A.
"The Modern Eeader'sBible." (Macmillan
& Co.)

Most people read the Bible from a religious
standpoint, an historical standpoint, a tex-
tual standpoint, everything except a literary
standpoint. Wherefore, Messrs. Macmillan
have put forward the Modern Reader's
Bihle — a series of small volumes by an
American, Dr. Moulton, in which the
Biblical books are arranged to bring out
their literary character. The idea is to
print them as nearly as possible as they
would be arranged by a modem author.
Our aim is not to criticise this edition, or
we might say something about certain
fanciful excesses in the editor's arrange-
ment. But it is a move in a needed direc-
tion, and the prefaces do excellent work in
awakening readers to the fact that the Bible
is literature. We propose, somewhat on
the line of these prefaces, to deal with the
most literary of all the Biblical writers — the
prophets. The prophecies are not, we
believe, in Hebrew poetic form. But their
character is, from a modem standpoint,
poetic in a high degree. As poets we
design to consider the prophets; and we
begin with the least read among the major
prophets (yet not the least in a literary
view), Ezekiel.

To give, in a column or so, the pith and
quality of Ezekiel ! It is a hazardous attempt,
and more hazardous because he is so little
studied that we can presume no g^eat ac-
quaintance with him to lighten the task.
Ezekiel (if we may so speak) is not a popular

prophet. He is too remote from Europeans
in general, and Englishmen in particular.
Of all the prophets he is the most Eastern.
All the prophets speak in figures ; Ezekiel
in hardly anything else but figures. All
the prophets are abrupt, sudden, dramatic
in transition ; Ezekiel hardly has transitions.
He does not proceed by pedestrian steps ;
he flies, he baffles, he eludes — you see him
only, as it were, when he alights from his
brusque flights. He leaps from jag to jag
of precipitous utterance, and leaves the
reader to bridge the connexions. He speaks
forked lightnings. All the prophets are
often obscure by consequence of this Hebraic
abruptness ; Ezekiel is yet more obscure. AH
the prophets are at times obscure with in-
tention ; Ezekiel is habitually obscure with
intention. Parable is the common counter
of his speech. He knew it, and knew that
it was dark to the Jew. What, then, to
the Englishman ? In a curious and valuable
passage, he remonstrates with Jehovah for
this constant feature of style :

" Son of man " (says Jehovah), " set thy face
toward the South . . . and prophesy against
the forest of the field in the South ; and say to
the forest of the South .... Thus saith the
Lord God : Behold, I will kindle a fire in thee,
and it shall devour every green tree in thee,
and every dry tree."

Ezekiel objects : " Ah, Lord God ! they say
of me, Is he not a speaker of parables ? "
Whereupon the prophet, in the person of
Jehovah, absolutely translates himself- — the
allegoric passage gone before — into plain
Hebrew :

" Son of man, set thy face toward Jerusalem
. . . and prophesy against the land of Israel ;
and say to the land of Israel, Thus saith the
Lord : Behold, I am against thee, and will
draw forth my sword out of its sheath, and
will cut off from thee the righteous and the
wicked."

It is a literal translation, from which the
student may get an interesting insight into
the allegoric language of the prophets.

" Is he not a speaker of parables ? " That
is the instinctive complaint of the English-
man against Ezekiel. The Englishman loves
not looking through brick walls. Yet more,
Ezekiel acts parables. It is hopelessly
Eastern, dreadJuUy un-English ; and what
worse can one say of a thing than that it is
" un-English " ? Conceive that John Henry
Newman (who was both preacher and poet)
believed himself to have a mission of warn-
ing against the national sins of England.
He enters Trafalgar-square, bearing a
cavalry sabre. Amid the gathering crowd
he draws it from its sheath, declaring it to
be the sword of the Lord drawn forth
against England ; turns from side to side,
lunging it hither and thither, with pas-
sionate denunciation. Then throwing it to
the ground, he smites his hands together,
and with rai.sed ej^es wails over the coming
woes of the land ; and still he stamps his
foot, and claps liis palms. Another time,
he appears daily in the environs of London ;
lies on his side, looking toward the city,
and regales liimself at intervals on a pro-
vision of cats'-meat. Thus, he explains,
shall the German army lie round London,
till the inhabitants are reduced to live on
cats'-meat and refuse. What articles, even

112

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 29. 1898.

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THE ACADEMY.

118

CONTENTS.

Biniws :

The Real Peasant

Prof. Henry Drammond's Popularity

The Prophet as Poet

The New Education

Some Recent Theology

The Complete Mrs. Browning ...

" The LiRht Fantastic Too "

A Book of Es ays

BaiirsE MixTioH

AOIDIMT SUFFIIMIICT

KOTIS AKD NlWB

RlPUTATIOl'S RkCOKSIPBBED :

Th» Sjli»«'s SlGiriFIClKCB ..

TH» LoNDOF OF THB WbiTB

THB THAHBS

Tbb Book Makbbt

Tbb Wbbk

New Books Received

DBim

OOEBBSPOITDBirCB

Book Bxtibws Bbviiwis ..

lil

Hbnbt FlBLDIirO

:s : v., The Poets

Pasi

113
lU
116
. 118
117
117
118
119
119
-12-1
125
127
128

130
131
132
132
133
134
136

REVIEWS.

THE EEAL PEASANT.

Joteph Arch : the Story of His Life Told by
Himself. Edited, with a Preface, by the
Countess of Warwick. (Hutchinson & Co.)

THE Academy is not a political journal,
and in considering this book we pro-
; pose to ignore its highly controversial aspect,
'and concentrate attention upon its value as a
[literary document of the very first import-
ance. At no previous time have so many
limaginations been directed to the rural
iswain. Not only by the flourishing Scotch
school, but by novelists of France, Germany,
iRussia, Hungary, and America the peasant
has been accepted as a central figure of
Imodem romance. Even criticism has been
'forced into the same groove. Mr. Henley has
]^uite recently shown that an understanding
|)f the peasant is a key to the poetry
|jf Burns. It is equally important to
li full comprehension of Carlyle's life
iind of the best of Tennyson's verse.
Snglish literature, indeed — from Chaucer
:ind Shakespeare to George Eliot and
iChomas Hardy — is peculiarly rich in scenes
'Irawn from rustic annals. But we know of
iio book exactly similar to this life of Mr.
irch. Here is a full-drawn picture of the
leasant given by his own hand. WilHam
iJobbett alone could have furnished its com-
iianion, but, unfortunately, he left others to
?rite his biography. To contrast the real,
hen, with the ideal, the peasant of fiction
I'ith the peasant of fact, cannot fail to be of
3rvice both to those who read and those
■ho write works of the imagination. And
ine of the first reflections is, what a heaven
A earth must Drumtochty, say, be in com-
|arison with Barford in Warwickshire.
I'or Ian Maclaren has bathed his Scotch
amlet in mercy, charity, loving-kindness ;
;i8 folk have rough exteriors but warm
tearts ; they sacrifice themselves for one
'lother and positively overflow with senti-
ment at the slightest provocation. The
^ace teems with pathos and all " the finer
lelmgs of our nature." Yet the Scottish
aasant is generally supposed to be as hard
I mind as he is harsh in feature, possessing
,')out a pennyweight of sentiment to a ton of

sterner qualities. In Barford it is the other
way about. The "jolly English plough-
boy," by repute a merry, beer-swilling, good-
natured oaf, turns out quite different when
seen through the eyes of Mr. Joseph Arch.

In the article of religion he is a greater
fanatic than the Scot. There are no " meta-
feesics " about Mr. Arch ; no twisting and
dividing of doctrine, none of that criticising
of sermons which seems to be the joy of Ian
Maclaren's dramatis personm, but in place a
fanaticism that blazes out as it has not done
since the day of Praise-God-Barebones and
those who signed the solemn League and
Covenant.

" The Almighty Maker of Heaven and Earth,"
he says, "raised me up to do this particular
thing ; in the counsel of His wisdom He singled
me out and set me on my feet in His sight aud
breathed of the breath of His Spirit into me,
and sent me forth as a messenger of the Lord
God of Battles."

It is a curious illustration of the isola-
tion of one section of society from another
that in years when, as some thought, the
sea of faith was at its lowest ebb, men
should have gone on mixing prayer-meetings
with politics, not in opposition to doubt,
but wholly unconscious that doubt existed.
Some of the incidents which account for the
fiery Methodism of Mr. Arch are very
characteristic of village life and manners.
When he was bom, in 1826, Dissent was
not strong in Barford, and, as retainers of
the house of Warwick, his people attended
the parish church. His grandfather was a
hodger and ditcher, his grandmother an old
servant of the great Midland family, for
whom they kept a lodge ; his father was a
steady shepherd who married a coachman's
widow. He himself took to wife a domestic
servant, whose character is summed up in
these words :

" She thought ' As it was in the beginning, is
now, and ever shall be, world without end,
Amen.' "

These facts prove that Mr. Arch is a peasant
to the bone. No yeoman or middle-class
blood of any kind mixed with his. Further,
he has been all his life in touch not only
with poverty, but with hunger and want. He
sums up his life with all its bitter and all
its tender memories in a passage that
deserves quotation as a deeply felt and
well-expressed piece of English :

" As I sit here in my little cottage at Barford
and review the past, it seems at one moment a
long look back ; at another it seems but yester-
day that my grandmother sat in the chair I aiu
sitting in now — a chair which is over a hundred
years old — and I stood by her a little chap of
six. And there is the old eight-day clock
which my father bought in Leamington fifty
years ago. He, I have heard him tell, carried
home the case over his shoulder, and my
mother trudged at his side with the works in
her market basket. I can see my good mother
cutting the barley bread for u», with fears in
her eyes because there is so little of it for the
children who are so hungry. I can sre my
father step in at the door, come in for a bite or
sup of whatever is going. I can see myself
tramping off in my little smock-frock, clapper
in hand, to scare away the birds; then jumping
the clods at sixpence a day, and so on to the
great year of 1872, when I held that first meet-
mg under the Wellesboume chestnut-tree on

the February evening which saw the birth of
the Agricidtural Labourers' Union."

That is peasant life, lying tranquil and
softened in "the moonlight of memory."
It grows harsh and bitter as the facts come
into clear and definite shape. The urchin
in his smock - frock writiiing under the
farmer's switch, and, later, trembling at the
whip of a bullying carter ; the wife going
out to do charing ; that father who came
home so triumphantly, carrying the clock, old
and past his work ; the son Joseph forced
to gulp down his pride and ask relief for
him from the parish ; the offer of the
workhouse — these are the shadows of that
Arcadian picture. It is not Ian Maclaren's
golden age and reign of all the virtues,
but neither is it the gross and worse than
beast-like world of La Terre.

Having thus obtained a slight notion of
the man, we may now return to those
quaint scenes of village life that might have
been lifted clean out of, or into, a modem
novel ; premising, however, that they would
gain immensely if divested of the bitterness
with which Mr. Arch, rightly or wrongly,
presents them, and looked at with a little
humour and imagination. We shall begin
with two pictures of the village church.
The first is this :

" I can remember the time when the parson's
wife used to sit in state in her pew in the
church, and the poor women used to walk up
the church and make a curtsey to her before
taking the seats set apart for them."

But how one would like to have Jane
Austen's description or Hugh Thomson's
drawing of this parson's wife ! The second
has a more personal interest, as it shows how
Mr. Arch became a Dissenter. One Commu-
nion Sunday, when lie was seven, he peeped
through the keyhole to find out what
happened after tlie children were turned
out. This is what ho saw :

" First up walked the squire to the com-
munion rails ; the farmers went up next ; then up
went the tradesmen, the shopkeepers, the wheel-
wright, and the bhicksmith ; and then, the very
last of all, went the poor agricultural labourers
in their smock-frocks. They walked up by
themselves ; nobody else knelt with them ; it
was as if they were unclean, and at that sight
it was if the iron entered straight into my poor
little heart, and remained fast imbedded there.
I said to my myself, ' If that's what goes on,
never for me.' "

Our next extract is selected as one of the
very few recollections that are simple and
human and boylike, and aro not tinged or
distorted by bitter party feeling Little Joe,
after his bird-scaring experience, was pro-
moted to be a plough-boy, and this is a
description of " apple-dumpling day." He
carried his dinner afield in a wallet. He
says:

" Apple-dumpling day was a red one in my
boy's calendar. When I had such a dainty bit
in my bag it seldom stayed there many minutes.
Although I had despatched a hearty breakfast
before starting, out would come the dumpling.
' Just to have a look at it, and to see if it is as
big as mother generally makes them,' I would
say to myself. Then I would turn it about and
admire its size. From handling the dainty to
tasting it was a sure process. ' I'll have one
little bite, only a nibble,' I would suy. When
I had got my tooth into that dumplmg Adam

116

TfiE ACADeM.

[Jan. 29, 1898.

in the religious papers, rebuking him for
degrading religion by freaks worse than
those of a captain in the Salvation Army !
"What suggestions of inquiry into his sanity !
Yet these things, or like to these, Ezekiel
did among the Jews of the Captivity ; and
it was thought an impressive and solemn
performance. So far is East from West.

" Is he not a speaker of parables ? " But
try a little to see like an Eastern ; overcome
your most Saxon hatred of parable, and you
shall find compensation ; majesty in the
parables, boldness in the imagery. You
shall find that impressive review of the
iniquities of Israel and Judah, under the
figure of the two harlots, with its grand
brutalities. For a hirsute power of demm-
ciation, a terrible minatory plainness from
which our modernity recoils, are among this
propliet's marked characteristics. He has
not the lofty and most moving pathos of
Jeremiah, nor the lyric sublimity of Isaiah ;
in spite of his lavish use of figure, he is less
lyric than either of these, has more of the
character of harangue. But he has fuU
grandeur. Yea, one passage is also power-
foUy lyric. It is that most imaginative,
solemn, and majestic denunciation of Egypt,
who is bidden to join the mighty nations
perished in their glory, that shall welcome
him to their abode in the earth.

"The strong among the mighty shall speak
to him out of hell. . . . Asshur is there and
all her company ; his graves are round about
him. . . . There is Elam with all her multi-
tude . . . they have set her a bed in the midst
of the slain with all her multitude ; her graves
are round about her; all of them uucircumcised,
slain by the sword."

So, with formal pomp of lyric roiiotition,
the spacious and sombre catalogue proceeds.
The famous and indecipherable vision of
the cherubim, for those who are not repelled
by the peculiar forms of Hebrew symbolism,
has a strange sublimity of conception. To
us, at least, it is tremendous : but it must
be read in a receptive mood. A certain
mystic and inscrutable beauty is a frequent
character of Ezekiel, with his tendency
towards symbolic vision. Such is the lament
over Tyre, which foreshadows the character
of the Apocalypse. " Thou wast in Eden,
the garden of God ; every precious stone
was thy covering — the sardius, the topaz,
and the diamond," &c. To him, indeed,
everything comes by way of vision and
concrete sign. Such is that bold (and for
once readily comprehensible) image of the
dry bones.

In fine, this is a poet without the softer
graces ; rugged, eloquent, Hebraic to a
degree, with his sharp transitions, his crowd-
ing imagery ; yet affording, also, passages
of direct and pregnant common sense, akin
to his uncompromising plainness of invective;
pre - eminently a visionary, who sees all
things through the eye, and with the fre-
quent grandeurs of the bom visionary ; yet,
in his style, lacking somewhat the lyric
form and the lyric wing.

THE NEW EDUCATION.

The Sub-conscious Self, and its Relation to
Education and Health. By Louis "Wald-
stein, M.D. (Grant Eichards.)

The author of this book, which appears to
be of American origin, aims high. He pro-
poses to improve both our health and our
morals, to heighten our artistic and esthetic
tastes, nay, to manufacture genius itself and
at the same time to diminish crime, insanity,
and other evil tendencies of human nature
by — what ? The proper cultivation of the
sub-conscious self. It must not be assumed
that this sub-conscious self is the possession
of the privileged few. We all have it,
though in varying degrees. Dr. Waldstein
divides mental action into two classes — the
conscious and the sub-conscious. Tho latter,
he contends, plays a large, though commonly
unsuspected, part in our lives.

" What is often called heredity is simply the
expression of a sub-conscious self, the beginnings
of which can be traced to early childhood
wheu the actions of the parents are sub-
cousciously perceived and by their constant
repetition form fundamental impressions which
make up a great part of the memory. . . .
From conscious impressions and the accumula-
ti"n of them the intellectual, the calculating,
the deliberate man is formed. From the rich
material of the unconscious impressions is
evolved the emotional, the spontaneous, the
passionate man."

Although Dr. Waldstein minimises the
part played by heredity in the mental and
physical equipment of the individual, he
cannot, of course, get rid of it altogether.
That a child may inherit the particular kind
of liver or stomach of a parent as well as
the nose or eye he admits, and in the face
of the family likenesses that are met with
every day it would be hopeless to deny the
fact. But these are all-important sub-con-
scious impressions. They, too, are obviously
dependent upon an inherited system of
nerves and nerve-oells, as Dr. Waldstein is
fain to own :

" The colour of an object, for instance, affects
the eye of one who is oolour-bhnd differently
from that of another whose coloiu--8ense is
normal. Again, certain sounds and chords
produce different effects upon the ear according
to the constitution of that organ in different
persons. . . , The same original variations
exist in the nerves which conduct and in the
brain which receivt-s the impressions."

Thus, on the very threshold of his inquiry,
Dr. Waldstein is confronted with a physical
condition of things which gravely discounts
his theory as to the effects of education both
conscious and unconscious. It is clear that
the nature of tho tune to be played must
largely depend upon the quality of the
instrument, and that important condition is
hereditary, or rather, as the Weismannites
would say, is duo to the particular blond
of germ-plasm that takes place at con-
ception. We have no quarrel with
Dr. Waldstein's theory ; it is not,
indeed, new, but may be traced as
far back as Schel'ing's speculations as
to the "Ego " a Imndred years ago ; for the
" Ego " of the old metaphysicians and the
Consciousness of the modern psychologist
are practically one and the same. In

elaborating a theory of the Sub-conscious, or
any other theory, care must bo taken not to
ride it to death. Tho following proposition
may be accepted without question :

" The accumulated contents of our memory
govern our emotions, our thoughts and actions,
and therefore that portion of our memory made
up of sub-conscious impressions, and their aggre-
gate, must necessarily play a great part in our
individual Ufe."

But the danger of overworking (he theory
becomes apparent when, after condemning
the notion that a vicious mental organisa-
tion is necessarily transmittible from father
to son. Dr. Waldstein fwints to the cultiva-
tion of sub-conscious impressions as "a cer-
tain means of prevention and of cure "
(p. 19).

" Is it too bold," asks the author, " to assert
that the crying baby who makes a slave of its
mother develops into the habitual nialcoutent
of society 't That the child surrounded by
every outward fign of shiftlessness, cheerless-
ness — that lives in an atmosphere of egotism,
discord, and white lies, may grow to the mim
who may some day surprise his friends by acts
that seem out of harmony with the life he had
been leading among them ': "

Yes ; for our part wo think the assumption
is too sweeping, if Dr. Waldstein moans to
put down the degeneracy of the child solely
to its sub-conscious impressions of its
parents' worthlessness. For what justifica-
tion is there for excluding hereditary in-
fluence here ? Parents who would live the
life supposed could not themselves be nor-
nmlly constituted citizens ; and it is plausible,
at least, to argue that the instability of
tlieir cerebral and nervous system should
be transmitted, along with various physical
attributes, features, complexion, stature, &c.,
to their offspring.

If Dr. Waldstein is right, then children
brought up and educated under similar
conditions ought to be as like each other as
two peas. Indeed, he asserts as much :

"The refined tastes and joyous dispositions
of the elder children iu a family with whom I
often came into contact was a matter of some
surprise to me, as I could not account for the
common trait among them by the position or
special characteristics of the parents ; they were
in the humblest position socially, and all but
jjoor. My first visit to their modest home
furnished me with the natural solution and
gave me much food for reflection. The children
— there were six — occupied two rooms into
which the sunlight was pouring as I entered
. . . the colour and design of the cheap wall
paper were cheerful and unobtrusive, bits of
carpet, the table cover and the coverlets on the
buds were all in harmony, and of quiet design
in nearly the elementary colours ; everything
in these poor rooms of poor people had been
chosen with the truest judgment for iesthelic
effect."

Again :

"A young boy of my acquaintance had an
invincible dislike to music, and could not be
prevailed upon to continui bis piano lessons.
I was impressed by the violence of his aversion,
and upon inquiry was told that he was bom
and passed his infancy iu a house next to a
conservatory of music ; no doubt he had been
constantly disturbed in his sleep by the
discordance of sounds from a number of
instruments played at the fame time,"

Jan. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

117

These seem certainly far-fetched assump-
tions. One wonders, for instance, from
what kind of conservatory of music would
flow a " discordance of soimds " sufficiently
loud to be heard next door. Dr. Waldstein
evidently spares no pains to make his facts
fit his theory. To some of the commonest
experiences of life he pays no heed.
Notoriously, children brought up under the
same conditions differ morally and mentally
as much as they do in feature. Has
Dr. Waldstein never heard of the " black
sheep" of the family, or, on the other
hand, of the genius '? And would he
propose to reduce them all to the same dead
level of aptitude by a systematic and uniform
cidtivation of the sub-conscious ? Just a
closing word on the question of genius.
Dr. Waldstein is unquestionably right in
assigning the workings of genius to the
sub-conscious strata of the brain. The poet's
and artist's best ideas suddenly come from —
they know not where, and during sleep
pre-existent thoughts are often fashioned
and developed in an amazing degree. That
the sub-conscious plays indeed a large part
in our lives is self-evident ; but from a
recognition of that fact to proposing to
educate it, and by its means fashion the
moral and intellectual man to pattern, is a
far cry. StiU, this ingenious book will not
have been written in vain if it directs atten-
tion to a branch of education that is perhaps
too much neglected. The sub-conscious may
not be as impressionable or as tractable as
Dr. Waldstein supposes ; but as regards the
possibility of storing up agreeable impres-
sions in the child's mind it may be as well
to err on the safe side.

SOME EECENT THEOLOGY.

Genesis Critically and Exegetically Expowuhd.

j By Dr. A. Dillmann. Translated by

W. B. Stevenson, B.D. (T. & T. Clark.)

\K Mxrcn needed translation of a well-known
work by the late Professor of Theology in
jBerhn. Dillmann was one of the best
pxamples of the conservative school of
iBiblical criticism, and to the last maintained
iiis hostile attitude towards the more daring
rlieories of WeUhausen and Kuenen. In
fhe present commentary he disimtes their
iwndusions as to the post-Exilic character of
|he Priestly Code, which he considers to be
jhe oldest component of the Pentateuch, the
jvork of the Elohist coming next, and that
'>f the Jehovist last. On less technical points
lie asserts, with robust common sense, that the
''days" in Gen. i. mean daj's and not geo-
logical periods, that it is the serpent in his
,.nimal capacity, and not the devil in his
likeness, wlxo tempts Eve, and that the
'sons of God" who are represented in
iJen. vi. as intriguing with the daughters of
hen are angels, and nothing else. The
luthor is in only a few respects behind the
ime, as when he says that the Bohu or Bahu
!«.»., Chaos) of Gen. i. has no equivalent in ' ' the
jissyro-Babylonian mythological circle," Dr.
Jommel having pointed out some years ago
|bat the Chaos-goddess Balm was one of the
[arliest divinities of the Suiueriau pantheon.

Mr. Stevenson's translation is careful, but
occasionally harsh, and in many cases the
clumsy locutions of the German original
are reproduced with hardly any alteration.
On the other hand, he has added three
excellent indexes which the German work
does not possess. No one interested in the
orthodox view of Scripture can afford to
neglect this book.

The Datvn of Civilisation. By Prof. Maspero.
Translated by M. L. McClure. (S.P.C.K.)

A THIRD edition of this deservedly popular
work. To the Egyptological portion Prof.
Maspero has added four new pages dealing
with the discovery made by Prof. Flinders
Petrie of the existence of an early cannibal
race in Egypt Among the additions to the
Assyriological part we may notice the texts
announced last year by M. Heuzey, which
go to show that the patesis, or "priest-
kings " of Lagash, were really the vice-
gerents of a dynasty of emperors comprising
the conqueror Sargon of Accad and his
successors. So much has been said about
the defective translation of Prof. Maspero' s
second volume, that we feel boimd to notice
that on p. 550 of the present book : " Les
premiers peuples [of Mesopotamia] parais-
sent avoir appartenu a des types tres
differents," is translated by: "The first
races .... seem to have belonged to
three (!) different types," thereby making
nonsense of the paragraph.

The Mysteries, Pagan and Christian. By S.
Cheetham, D.D. (MacmiUan & Co.)

This book, containing the Hulsean Lectures
for 1896-97, was apparently written in refu-
tation of the theory advanced by the late
Dr Hatch, that the Christian Eucharist is in
part a survival of the Eleusinia and other
Pagan mysteries Canon Cheetham makes
the best of his case, and effectually disposes,
at any rate, of Dr. Hatch's statement that a
lamb was actually offered on the altar in early
Christian times. But there is a good deal
to be said on the other side ; and we confess
that the allusion in certain early papyri to
bread and wine as the body and blood of
one of the heathen gods seems to us very
difficult to get over. However that may
be, we can all enjoy the lucidity of state-
ment and ripe scholarship which Canon
Cheetham brings to bear upon his subject,
while we fully appreciate his good temper
and fairness to opponents.

The Supernatural in Nature. By Joseph
William Eeynolds, M.A. (Longmans
&Co.)
This is, as we learn from the preface, a new
and cheap edition, published at the expense
of General EUiot. The book is said to be
written for doctors and "other truth-loving
men in danger of being beguiled by the
sophisms of imperfect science "; but we
doubt if anyone having the slightest ac-
quaintance with science, however imperfect,
wiU pay any attention to it. Prebendary
Eeynolds appears to have the conviction,
not imcommon among popular preachers,
that in scientific matters appeals to the
emotions and tricks of rhetoric can usefully
replace sober thought and exact reasoning.
At all events, a fairly careful perusal of his

book has failed to disclose to us a single
important point of difference between
science and religion where the issue is
fairly faced, or where his arguments rise
above the level of those which Macaulay
describes as just good enough to be used
once. The following is an example of his
style :

" As far as the eye of science has hitherto
ranged through nature, no intrusion of purely
creative power into any series of phenomena
has ever been observed. [This is quoted from
an Apology for the Belfast Address without the
author's name or other means of verification.]
What a fib ! Science knows not a milUonth
part of nature, and of what she does know it is
certain that every moment nature is afresh
maintained in every part by forces from the
eternal Power. The assertion stands sell-
convicted of inadequacy."

We are afraid that Sir Alexander Elliot has
wasted his money.

The Story of Jesus Christ. By Elizabeth
Stuart Phelps. (Sampson, Low & Co.)

Yet another attempt, this time by the
author of The Gates Ajar, to make the
history of Jesus more impressive by telling
it in the language of to-day. Miss Phelps
— to call her by her best-known name-
approaches her task with much reverence
and gentle piety, her phrases in some
passages rising to the height of a true
pathos. Under these circumstances one has
no more right to be annoyed with her
frequent Americanisms than to complain of
the early Italian painters of the Crucifixion
for dressing the Eoman soldiers in the
trunk-hose of the period ; yet it must be
said that such words as "disgruntled"
somewhat jar upon one. And then — cui
bono ? All these modern versions of the
Gospel story seem to bo consciously or (as is
probably the present case) unconsciously
inspired by Eenan's Vie de Jesus ; but the
pure and perfect grace of Eenan's style
has descended to none of his successors.
For the rest, Eenan was a scholar of world-
wide reinitation, who devoted twenty years to
the writing of his book. Miss Phelps, in
her preface, modestly disclaims all preten-
sions to scholarsliip, and has probably done
her work within twelve months.

THE COMPLETE ME8. BEOWNING.

The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett
Browning. (Smith, Elder & Co.)

Elizabeth Baerett Browning was a poet of
abundance — of abundant thoughts, feelings
and aspirations, abimdant labours, abundant
failures, and a vocabulary superabundant
and redundant. She sowed with a lavish
hand, retaining nothing, storing nothing;
and her harvest is profuse — the wheat and
the tares. Into 600 closely printed pages,
with double columns on each page, are here
gathered all the poems she ever printed,
and you wonder afresh to find how many
they were and how various were the in-
terests in love, in religion, in politics of this
abounding woman. The standard copy-
right edition of 1866, in six volumes, con-

118

THE ACADEMY.

[Jaw. 29, 1898.

tained all she had cared to preserve from the
former issues of 1838 and 1844, together
with new additions. But the early verses
omitted by her own hand are now restored,
Mr. F. G. Kenyon, the judicious editor,
saying that the republication can do no
harm to the fame of one "whose place
among English poets has long been as-
sured," while they have a literary and bio-
graphical value that amply justifies their
reappearance. An exception is made as to
the first translation of " Prometheus Bound,"
published by Miss Barrett in 1 833, inasmuch
as she prepared a second translation, here
printed, in expiation, as she somewhere
says, of that " sin of her youth."

In addition toherpoems — we know only one
poem which hasescaped the editor's vigilance,
and by no fault of his, for it is in MS. in a
private collection — the volume has her prose
essays, "The Greek Christian Poets" and
"The Book of the Poets," the last-named
an exuberant survey of English poetry,
containing appreciations, especially of later
poets, that might cry to her now for revision
and be accounted as more sins of her youth.
Her judgment of past poets, however, was
more judicious than that of poets still new.
Like Dr. Johnson and Hazlitt, she refused to
pay the honours of a first class poet to Gray,
yet conceded them to Byron.

Besides these essays, the new volume
contains, as it ought, the preface she
put to former editions, and also Mr.
Browning's " Prefatory Note " of 1887,
mostly, though still very scantily, bio-
graphical. We miss, however, the brief
preface he put to the " Selections " he made
with " aU care and the profoundest venera-
tion " from his wife's works in 1865. Any
of the few words uttered of the other by
either of these two have a more than
common sacredness, conferred by the con-
ditions of that "marriage of true minds."
Yet Mr. Browning, it must be confessed,
was the lover rather than the critic. His
eulogy, as is the phrase, ' ' her glories shall
never fade," is magnificent ; but is it true?

The Dedication of " The Battle of Mara-
thon," published in 1820, is reprinted among
the rest. It is " to him to whom I owe the
most — to the father whose unwearied affec-
tion I never can repay." But above all
does the dedication of the edition of 1844
strike us with an ever fresh pathos— "To
My Father " is the headline :

"My desire is," she says, "that you, who
are a witness how, if this ait of poetry had been
a lees earnest object to me, it must have fallen
from exhausted hands before this day — that
you who have shared with me in things bitter
and sweet, softening or enhancing them every
day — that you who hold with me, over all
sense of loss and transiency, one hope by one
Name, may accept from me the inscription of
these volumes, the exponents of a few years of
an existence which has been sustained and
comforted by yon as well as given. Somewhat
more faint-hearted than loused to be, it is my
fancy thus to seem to return to a visible per-
sonal dependence on you, as if, indeed, I were
a child again ; to conjure your beloved image
between myself and the public, so as to be sure
of one smile, and to satisfy my heart while I
sanctify my ambition by associating with the
great pursuit of my hfe its tenderest and holiest
affection."

That was in 1844. Two years later came
the marriage with Mr. Browning, which the
Barretts did not approve. Henceforth
between the happy wife and the father she
adored " the rest is silence." Yet not quite.
Now and again, from Italy and elsewhere,
that wounded thing — " half angel and half
bird," said Browning; " scarcely embodied
at all," said Hawthorne — sent forth cry after
cry to her old home. But never again did any
exchange of greeting pass between father
and daughter. Her crime in marrying an
ineligible man was never blotted out. What
love owes to poets we may all know ; but
how has the debt been repaid, how have
poets been treated as lovers ? In our time
Tennyson, too, was an " ineligible " who
had to wait twenty years for the woman
of his choice. And Browning could secure
his bride only at the cost of her severance
from earlier ties — Miss Barrett could only
win a husband at the sacrifice of a father.
At the head of all lists of paternal tyranny
must stand to all time this instance of it,
the full folly and misery of which have been
realised only now that Mrs. Browning's
letters have been published. Browning's
capacities were equal to the occasion — he
could be lover, husband, and father in one ;
aud his wife's last words when she died in
his arms, a worn-out body tenanted by a
soul too stirring for it, compose the fitting
epitaph for her life and his together — "It
is beautiful."

"THE LIGHT FANTASTIC TOE."

A History of Dancing, from the Earliest Ages
to Our Own Times. From the French of
Gaston Vuillier. With a Sketch of
Dancing in England by Joseph Grego.
(William Heinemann.)

" You and I may be past our dancing
days, good Cousin Capulet," but that is no
reason why we shouldn't enjoy studying the
pictures and glancing at the text of Mr.
William Heinemann's remarkably hand-
some edition of M. Gaston VuiUier's astonish-
ingly ill- written jEr/«<wy of Dancing. The text,
indeed, is as Ul-written as it very well could
be, as thin, superficial, and uninstructive.
It breathes a general air of having been
hastily and perfunctorily " got up " at a
public library, and sometimes it rises to
quite supreme heights of ineptitude, as
where, for example (p. 176), M. Vuillier
observes of the gavotte, " This dance was
of very ancient origin ; it dated from the
sixteenth century." One had never till now
thought of the sixteenth century as apper-
taining to " very ancient " times. Again
(p. 39), M. Vuillier informs us, "It was by
her dancing that Salome obtained the head
of John the Baptist." This, to be sure,
would be an interesting item of news — if it
were only new. But one has heard it before.
However, the text is worth glancing at, for
the sake of the lovely words that keep
recurring in it. Branle and Sarabande,
Pavane and Tarantella, Carole, Farandole,
Seguidilla — they are as sweet as the names
of old-fashioned flowers. And some of the
famous dancers whom M. VuiUier is con-

strained to mention had pretty names too,
or pretty pseudonyms: Rose Pompon (which
sounds like something good to eat), Camargo,
Eigoletto, Pomare (which sounds like a
sparkling wine). After these, what shall we
say of our contemporary "Grille d'Egout,"
" Mome Fromage, or " Nini Patte-en-1'Air"?

But the pictures — the pictures are the
thing. One has seldom opened so sumptu-
ously be-pictured a book. There are more
than 400 of them ; and if they are not all
of transcendent excellence as works of art,
they are all, at any rate, diverting. They
show us Jack piping and Jill dancing in
many lands and in many ages : in ancient
Egypt and in modem Paris, in Greece
and Rome, in Spain, India, England, aud
Algiers, even in Patagonia and Berlin — for
savage dances are dances still. They show
us peace dances and war dances, sacred
dances and profane, the " Dance of Death "
and the " Danse du Ventre." They show us
odalisques dancing in the pasha's seraglio,
and houris dancing in Mahomet's paradise.
They show us balls under Louis XIV., balls
under the Directory, under the Empire, and
those amazing " Victim Balls " that followed
the Terror. They show us valses in the
Chaussee d'Autin of 1830, and cotillions in
the Champs-Elysees of last year. They show
us Ranelagh and Mabille and VauxhaU;
and incidentally they set us wondering why
we have nothing like Vauxhall in the London
of our degenerate days. The entertainment
begins on the very cover, where a group of
plump, cherubic four-year-olds are repre-
sented dancing in a ring. If it were still
permitted to quote Hans Breitmann, we
should intimate in passing that the four-
year-olds have "nodings on." Then the
frontispiece is a photogravure of Carpeaux's
spirited dance of nymphs, from the facade
of the Paris Opera House. So that we are
put in a proper humour at the outset. One
suffers a pang, it is true, a few pages later,
on discovering that there is no index to the
pictures. There is a list of the " twenty
full-page plates," but none of the "409
illustrations." However, one mustn't ex-
pect everything here below ; and the iihilo-
sopher wiU be content to take his 409 as he
finds them— though he may continue to
speculate why " 409 " is printed in figures,
while "twenty" receives the honour of
being spelled out.

The full-page plates include Mr. Whistler's
portrait of Miss Connie Gilchrist, Mr. Sar-
gent's " Carmencita," and Watteau's "The
Pleasures of the Ball." They include, also,
a very jolly print of Lancret's ' ' Mademoiselle
Camargo," more Watteau-like than Watteau
himself. But that was Lancret's glory —
the uninitiate could detect his canvases
from his master's only by the circumstance
that they were " a trifle too like." There
are other AVatteaus and other Lancrets
among the unindexed pictures ; there is a Fra
Angelico ; there is a delightful Domenichino,
a dance of cupids (after a drawing in the
possession of Mr. William Heinemann — lucky
Mr. William Heinemann !) ; there are two or
three Teniers ; one or two Gavamis ; and (a
superlative distinction) there is a Degas.
Fancy having a Degas and not boasting of
it in an index. It is one of the master's
ballet-girls, of course; a thing brimful of

Jan. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

119

light and movement ; a thing of inexpressible
charm, even in this process reproduction,
without the master's colour. She is poising
on one leg, in a white diaphanous skirt that
is like a puff of fragrant air made visible ;
there's a ribbon of black velvet round her
throat, there are flowers in her corsage;
and then — her face, her eyes, her arms!
We kiss our hand to her ; and since there
is no index, we will mention, for the hesi-
tating purchaser's encouragement, that she
adorns page 368. The more interesting of the
two Gavamis will be found on page 289 —
a Parisian ball under the Restoration. Oh !
the pretty frocks of the ladies, their sloping
shoulders, their ringlets, and their ankles,
and the graceful costumes of the men, with
their pantalons colles d la peau ! One
thinks of Eastignac and Delphine, of
Lucien, of the Marquise d'Espard. It is
a page of Balzac translated into black
and white. Two of the pleasantest pic-
tures in the book, by the by, are not
attributed. One is a pen-drawing of MdUe.
Guimard, the other a pen-drawing of Marie
Antoinette in the " Ballet de la Eeine " ;
and they both occur on page 174. They
are so delicate, so sprightly, so exquisitely
naif and winning, it would really have been
worth while to recall the draughtsman's
name.

By reason of its pictures, in short, this is
a very precious volume. It is a thousand
pities the letterpress should be so dreary.
Why doesn't Mr. Heinemann bring out a
new edition, with a new letterpress written
by someone who understands 'i Think of
the subject ! Dancing — the most beautiful
of all human pastimes. What an oppor-
tunity for good literature ! M. VuiUier's
letterpress, stiff in its joints, creaking as it
moves, smelling of the musty purlieus of
the Bibliotheque Nationale, is as reluctant
as an ill-coached schoolboy before an ex-
aminer.

And, of course, in the new edition the 409
illustrations will be indexed.

A BOOK OF ESSAYS.
Varia. By Agnes Eepplier. (Gay & Bird.)

■ Miss Eepplier has in this volume reprinted

nine essays contributed to the magazines.

The subjects are nearly all literary in char-
I acter. Four are concerned with various

aspects of fiction, one with diaries, one with
' drinking songs, one with Froissart, and one

with " the eternal feminine." AU reflect

the views of a clever, cultivated woman,
1 who is frankly enamoured of life's pleasures,
' has a clear flexible style, and has taken Mr.
! Andrew Lang for a model. She rej)roduces
'aU of her master except that background

of melancholy which gives even to Mr.
I Lang's drolleries a peculiar and touching

charm. Naturally, then. Miss Eepplier is
I a romantic, filled with a huge admiration
• of Scott and Dumas, a dislike of those who
would vex a reader's soul with problem
plays, or realistic studies, and a frank taste
for out of the way literature, even of
i" ribald (drinking) songs with which refined

femininity is not presumed to sympathise."
She has gathered quite a garland of those
flowers in her discourse on "Cakes and
^ei " — perhaps the best in the volume. The
place of honour is given to Burns :

" It is the moon, I ken her horn,

That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie ;
She shines sae bright to wile us hame,
But by my sooth she'll wait a wee."

She does not quote the famous song in
" Gammer Gurton's Will "—

" Let back and belly go bare, go bare "

— but the seventeenth century is ransacked
for examples. Coming nearer to our own,
she draws a capital picture of that Pagan
full o' pride, Thomas Love Peacock, and
quotes his inimitable " In life three ghostly
friars were we," and "Seamen three:
what men be ye ? " — drinking songs as
admirable as the seventeenth century pro-
duced. Quite in Mr. Lang's best manner
is the funny way in which she rounds off
this praise of drunken hilarity with Long-
fellow's glorification of cold water glistening
"in the head of old SUenus." She might
have contrasted his simple innocent direct-
ness with the pawky fun Eobert Fergusson
applied to the same theme :

" Ere faither Adie first put spade in
The bonnie yaird o' ancient Eden,
His awmrie had nae hquor laid in

To fire his noou'
Nor did he thole his wife's upbraidiu'

For gettin' fou !

And she ends all with an ironical lament :

" Once Charles I. sent Ben Jonson, as poet
laurate, one hundred pounds a year and a tierce
of Spanish Canary. No such generous drink
comes now from Queen Victoria to lend sparkle
and vivacity to Mr. Austin's verses. Once Dr.
Johnson, ' the real primate and soul's teacher
of England,' says Carlyle, declared roundly and
without shocking anybody, ' Brandy, sir, is the
drink for heroes.' It is not thus that primates
and teachers of any land now hearten their
wavering disciples. Once the generous pub-
Ushers of Marmion sent Scott a hogshead of fine
claret to mark their appreciation of his verse.
It is not in this graceful fashion that authors
now receive their tokens of goodwill."

From this outline of one of Miss Eepplier' s
essays it wiU be easy to gather what the
rest are like. Always urbane and smiling,
she avoids such themes as cannot be dis-
missed with a light and weU-bred laugh.
And even when a difference of opinion
arises she mocks opposition with the remark
that the book that keeps her fast in an
armchair is the book for her, whatever
critics may say. And, indeed, if the in-
telligences of all were as keen and cultivated
as those of Miss Eepplier, the critic well
might say, " My vocation's gone." For if a
laugh that is too genial to be called a sneer
means anything, it is that Miss Eepplier
has very decided likings and dislikings, and
that she is ever ready to push aside Mr.
Hall Caine and Ian Maclaren, and another
of her bugbears, Mr. Hamlin Garland, for
the gallant page of Froissart. But even
those who differ from her point of view will
find a great deal that is agreeable in these
cultured and well-written essays.

BRIEFER MENTION.

27u) Clerical Life : a Series of Letters to
Ministers. (Hodder & Stoughton.)

THIS is a theological variant upon Hamer-
ton's Intellectxial Life — a sort of gnomic
handbook to the pidpit. We confess to having
read these letters with genuine interest and
amusement, though we are far enough from
hoping to make any practical use of them.
The conception of the clergyman, to be sure,
is a limited one ; in the eyes of the writers
he is what they succinctly describe as a
"Christian specialist." This being so, it is
reasonable that he should have good advice
g^ven him whereby to direct his specialisation
and guide his difficult steps. The tone of
the book is kindly and sensible, and, in
general, there is a total absence of the in-
spired fatuity usually found in a work
of this nature. The writers write like honest
men who have been at the trade before,
and one or two are abundantly humorous.
Faults of taste are rare, and wit is grateful
in such a connexion. The letter " To a
Minister Who is given to Anecdotage in the
Pulpit" is quite a polished little piece of
irony ; so, too, is that " To a Ministerial Sir
Willoughby Patteme," and, funniest of all,
the letter " To a Minister who has Studied in
Germany." In the more serious epistles
there is a tendency to fall into a sermonising
vein and vulgarise the fine words of Scripture
by a half-sentimental ajiplication. But this
is a common weakness nowadays, and the
book as a whole is fresh and attractive.

Letters from Julia ; or, Lights from the
Borderland. (Grant Eichards.)

Once upon a time there were two friends in
America, named Julia and Ellen, both of
whom were known to Mr. Stead. They
were devout Christians, and they made a
compact that whichever of them died first
would, if it were permitted, return to the
other and manifest herself to her, and thus
prove existence beyond the grave. Then
Julia died and appeared to Ellen. The
apparition did not speak, but softly and
silently vanished away. Shortly after-
wards EUen came to England and told Mr.
Stead about it, and Mr. Stead suggested
that as he had recently acquired the gift of
automatic writing he should constitute him-
self the medium between EUen and Julia.
Now, an automatic writer is one who holds
a pen in his hand, but refuses consciously to
control it. The hand writes of itself. The
matter proceeds either from the sub-con-
scious self or from invisible intelligences,
such as Julia. Time after time Mr. Stead
wrote to Julia's dictation, and a selection of
the correspondence forms this little volume.
JuHa writes very much as living persons do,
and her pictures of spiritual life wiU interest
those who are interested in pictures of spiritual
life from the automatic hand of Mr. Stead.
Here is a passage :

"The Angel Guardian who came to me had
wings, as I said. It is not usual, but if we
please we can assume them. They are no more
necessary than any of the contrivances by which
you attempt to attain the mastery of the spirit
over the burden of matter. We think, and wo

120

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 29, 1898.

are there. Why, then, wings ? They are scenic
illusions useful to convey the idea of superiority
to earth-bound conditions, but we do not use
them any more than we use steam-engines. But
I was glad my Guide had wings. It seemed
more like what I thought it would be and
ought to be, and I was at once more at ease
than I would otherwise have been."

To say anything more about the book is
unnecessary.

Picturesque DuUin Old and New. By Trances

Gerard. (Hutchinson & Co.)
The weight of this book, whether it lie in
paper or binding, is so extraordinary, that it
takes an athletic man to read it. The writer
had an excellent subject to her hand, and it
is a pity that she was not capable of turning
it to better use. It is a farrago of anti-
quated gossip and uninteresting detail —
exactly in the style of a foolish local guide-
book. The arrangement of the subject is
thoroughly chaotic, and the present writer
in despair gave up the attempt to follow
the involution of the author's mind. The
manner of writing is slipshod, and the
grammar frequently to seek. For example,
on p. 226 she uses "potential" when she
obviously means "potent." The work
evinces a perfect genius for the making of
foolish and inappropriate remarks in every
conceivable context. This is especially
evident in the literary criticism. For ex-
ample, take this acute note on Charles
Lever :

" One of the best of Irish novelist?, the edge
of his wit being so keen, and his knowledge of
human nature (especially of his own country-
men) so true, that his books will live when
those of. in a sense, better writers are for-
gotten."

As an example of exquisite humour in the
choice of a nickname, we are told that an
old gentleman who suffered from tender
feet was called "Bunions." "These," says
the author (she quotes some other instances),
" will give an idea of the talent for sarcasm
which is inherent in Irish men and women."
The one good story we can find has been
told before in a different connexion :

" A certain lady sat next to Archbishop
Trench at a dinner party, and to her surprise
found him constantly pinching her leg. She
was about to remonstrate, when he suddenly
said : ' I fear I am developing paralysis ; my
leg has no feeling, though I have pinched it
many times.' "

We are sorry to speak hardly of what is,
after all, a very amiable performance.
Doubtless the book will please in its own
class. A word of praise should be given to
the illustrations, which are often good.

JTeine^s Lieder und Oedichte. Selected by
C. A. Buchheim, Ph. D. " Golden Treasury "
Series. (MacmiUan & Co.)

A SELECTION from Heine's songs is a season-
able publication after the revived interest in
the poet on the Continent and in this country
at the end of the past year. Heine, who is
well-nigh the worst subject for translation
conceivable, repays judicious selection, for
he fell often below his best. " Poems which
have the swiftness and certainty of exquisite
physical sensations " : so Mr. Henley with
truth, for in his best lyrics the age-sickness

is less felt, and we have the very song of
the mystery and joy of life. For his lyrical
work at its best is modelled on the old
Minne-songs; and whether one speak of
the Volkslied or the Volksballade, it has all
the note of the great poetry of the people.
Sometimes he went straight to the old story,
sometimes to a modern adaptation, as in the
immortal Lorelei ; and, says Dr. IJuchheim,
" we need not wonder that bis poems have
become themselves Volkslieder." The
editor has done his work carefully, and
contributes an awkward, hesitating, but
sympathetic little introduction.

Modern France, i 7 89- i 895 ('The Story of
the Nations"). By Andre Lebon, (T.
Fisher Unwin.)

It is but natural that France should not
have been particularly happy during the
past century, for she has been making
history at a furious rate. The hundred and
six years dealt with in M. Lebon's book are
well worthy of a place in " The Story of the
Nations " series, for they comprise the
history of Modem France, which is in every
respect an utterly different country from the
France of Louis XIV. and XV. M. Lebon
begins with the meeting of the States-
General on May 5, 1789, having rapidly
sketched the position of France under the
Ancien Regime, and then plunges at once
into the welter of revolutions, wars,
dynasties, and ministries with which we
are all more or less familiar, coming
out successfully at the beginning of
M. Felix Faure's presidency in 1895.
The book is a very excellent summary
of a period of volcanic upheaval, and
is extremely useful as a groundwork of
further study, or as a means of refreshing
the memory. But in many places it is
choked by detail, and too frequently the
broad issues are obscured for awhile by a
summary of events which might have been
put with less minuteness. Nor is the
English irreproachable — occasionally it reads
unnecessarily like a translation — and the
dates given during the first revolution are
at times confusing. Still, M. Lebon has, of
course, a thorough grip of his subject, and
he makes it clear that of the three — Liberty,
Equality, and Fraternity — only civil equality
has really been the outcome of these vast
disturbances. There have been too many
revolutions for liberty ever to flourish, and
the nearest approach to it is that which
now obtains under the Third Republic.
After the wild orgies of the Revolution
quieted down, the power of the State was
placed in the hands of a dictator, and on his
fall the middle-classes, by means of a narrow
and restricted franchise, were the depositaries
of power. They got up the revolution of
1830 to break the jrower of the Crown, and
had their brief spell of glory from 1 830 to
1848. Then the democracy rebelled against
the middle- classes, and once more resorted
to the expedient of a dictator. Since 1870,
the democracy has done its best with parlia-
mentary institutions, which are by no means
a success, but which have weathered the
quarter of a century owing chiefly to the
fact that they are the form of Government
which divides Frenchmen the most. The
moral of the whole period is that freedom is

best where it gradually broadens down
from precedent to precedent, and that a ,
great people cannot hope to achieve freedom
and occupy a becoming place in the world
by flying from one excess to another.

AristotWs Theory of Poetry and Fine Art.
By S. H. Butcher. (Macmillan & Co.)

This is a second and carefully revised
edition of Prof. Butcher's treatise. The
importance of Aristotle's Poetics, to students
of poetry in general and to critics in par- ,
ticular, can hardly be over-estimated, nor is
there any better edition than this, with its
elaborately established text, its excellent
translation printed page for page with the
Greek, and the eleven essays which make
up in bulk three-fourths of the volume, and
are themselves a most valuable contribution
to critical literature. In the present edition
the translation has been reconsidered and
the textual notes enlarged. The essays are
only touched in minor points, and the book,
which first appeared in 1895, remains sub-
stantially the same.

Specimens of the Pre - Shalcesperean Drama.
("Athenaeum Series.") By John Matthews
Manly. Vol. II. (Ginn & Co.)

A FEW weeks ago we reviewed the first
volume of Prof. Manly's helpful and
scholarly work. The second volume is now
before us, and consists of texts taken from
the drama of the early Elizabethan period.
The first four of these are the four plays
generally regarded as the beginnings of the
" regular " drama — UdaU's Roister- Doiiter,
Still's Gammer Gurton's Needle, Preston's
Cambists, Sackville and Norton's Gorhoduc ;
and to have these together in a handy form
is a very convenient thing. The remainder
of the volume consists of individual plays
by Lylj', Greene, Peele, and Kyd. These
are perhaps less valuable, as Lyly and Peele
are already well edited, and complete edi-
tions of Greene and Kyd are promised by
the Clarendon Press. As specimens they
may be useful, although Prof. Manly's canons
of editing are somewhat rigorous for the
type of student to whom specimens are
likely to be of service. But we wish
that all critical editors would adopt Prof.
Manly's plan of editing the stage directions
as well as the text, and bracketing all addi-
tions to the original of these. To Prof.
Manly's third volume, with its promised his-
toric^ sketch of the English drama from the
tenth to the sixteenth century, we shall
look forward with zest.

Bad Lady Betty: a Drama in Three Aeti.
By W. D. ScuU. (Elkin Matthews.)

Mr. Scull's comedy, or, if you prefer it,
comic melodrama, is founded on the career
of Elizabeth Luttrell, the heroine of Mr.
W. K. E. Bedford's Tfie LuttreUs of Four
Oaks. She was the sister of the Duchess
of Cumberland, " coarse, vulgar, and a
gamester" ; she kept a faro-table, and ended
her days cleaning the streets of Augsburg,
and chained to a barrow. Mr. Scull adds to
her crimes by making her come between
two lovers and their happiness. He writes
fair dramatic prose, but surely people do
not read melodramas.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOR NOVEL READERS.

(Job's Foundling.

By a. J. Dawson.

j Entombed in Flesh.

Tales in Peose and Verse.

By David Christie Murray.

I " The belief they express is this," says the author in the dedica-
itory epistle to this collection of stories and ballads, " that there is
no degradation into which man can fall, out of which it is im-
ipossible for man to emerge." The stories are nine in number and
the poems ten. The last of all is a little comedy in dialogue
sntided "A Question of Fetters." (Chatto & Windus. 271pp.
38. 6d.)

Ceaits and Confidences.

By the Hon. Emily Lawless.

The author of Hurrish and Orania always deserves attention,
!ven when she offers mere scraps. This new book is like Mr.
l!hristie Murray's, a bundle of stories, sketches, and poems, a
iiixture of sad and merry, in the Irish way. Here are two titles
ihosen at random: "Of the Influence of Assassination upon a
fjandscape," and " On the Pursuit of Marine Zoology as an In-
entive to Gossip." (Methuen & Co. 272 pp. 6s.)

pHiLip Greystoke.

By Evan May.

: This capacious fiction begins thus : "Midnight! Midnight, amid
lensest, awful mountain silence. Such silence as habitual dwellers
II valleys among their fellows neither know nor can conceive,
jlidnight ! where the passage of time, as it flies, is only noted by
'eart-throbs. . . ." and so on. In the midst of this midnight a
oung man stands on the top of an alp and holds a conversation
iith himself. It is (of course) Philip Greystoke. How could it be
loyone else ? Afterwards come love, tons of it, and all the warp
lad woof of a Digby & Long novel. (Digby & Long. 341 pp. 6s.)

iza. By Marcus Reay.

I Liza was a bad woman. Obviously ; for she backed herself to
noke more cigarettes than any man in town ; she drank like a
ifh ; and she drew patrons to the stalls of the Frivolity by the
jtitude of her kicks. Dick Mortimer was the son of a retired
|itcher. With him affaires de ccetcr were short-lived, and une grande
pmn was yet to come. So he made love to Liza in her maisonette,
jid consequences followed. A very silly story. (Digby & Long.
[6 pp. 3s. 6d.)

This story, by the author of Middle Greyness, tells how Mr.
Morley Fenton — married and come to fullest wisdom (he is the
only man at Sunbury to whom the station-master invariably opens
the carriage door on his arrival) — solved problems connected with
liis unaekiowledged son, Harold Foster. Harold is a young
medical " whose red lips, sensitive as an i33olian harp's strings,
reflected every fleeting thought which crossed his mind, and seemed
to tinge with hesitancy's g^ejTiess the vivid pertinence of much that
he said." Much that he says sounds like that. The end is
liappier and more conventional than the reader might expect
from this note. (Heinemann. 310 pp. 6s.)

'TwEEN the New and the Old.

By George Wemyss.

This is a tale of three lovers, two of whom are bom in the same
village on the same day. One mother exclaims : "Who knows but
what they mightn't some day be husband and wife " ; and the
other answers, "Stranger things nor that hev happened."
Stranger things did happen. The third lover's name is D'Arcy de
Blois ; and what might have been a rustic wedding between a
shepherd and a kitchen-maid becomes something else. When
its improbabilities are condoned, the story is fresh and pleasing
enough. (John Macqueen. 327 pp. 68.)

A Man with a Maid.

By Mrs. Henry E. Dudeney.

By M. H. Dziewicki.

Brighton between Saturday and Monday is drawn in these pages
to the life, and it is all pretty real and pretty sad. Tom's
way with Tabbie turns out sad, mad, and bad ; and Tabbie's way
out of her trouble is mad and sad, too — and if the story were not
well told, which it is, one would resent it, which one doesn't.
(Heinemann. 183 pp. 2s. 6d.)

j A supernatural romance of the battle between Lucifer
land Phantasto, a starry and beneficent Presence. Lucifer
desires the ruin of a maiden. Phantasto would preserve her
pure. The two immortals make a compact : Phantasto is to
i enter the body of a human being and do what good he can on
I earth, for mankind in general and the maiden in particular, while
•Lucifer opposes him. Thus far the Prologue. The story, which is
of modern English life, follows. (Blackwood & Sons. 282 pp. 6s.)

Dunty the Droll.

By John Tweeddale.

This book of Scotch episodes is written in a dialect which even
the author recognises he must translate as he goes along. But we
are not taking lessons in broad Scotch just now ; and such a
sentence as this merely annoys : " The clatter's gaun that Lucky
Muckle's (Meikle's) waul's (well's) turned itill no mask (infuse)
tea, 'at wull't. Think ye the deil and Michael Scott can hae ony
han'in't?" We don't know about Michael; but, decidedly, we
think the deil has a hand in dialect stories. (Alexander Gardner.
101pp.)

REVIEWS.

The War of the Worlds. By H. G. WeUs.
(Heinemann.)

I. — The Story.

Mr. Wells has done good work before, but nothing quite so fine
as this. He has two distinct gifts — of scientific imagination and of
mimdane observation — and he has succeeded in bringing them to-
gether and harmoniously into play. Upon the scientific imagination
depends the structure, the plot, of the whole thing. The worlds
are Mars and the Earth. The Martians, whose planet, older and
further from the sun than ours, was becoming uncomfortably cool,
planned a descent upon a new abiding-place. Their extraordinary
mechanical development enabled them to accomplish this. Projected
with stupendous velocity in cylinders they alighted upon Woking
Common. Here is Mr. Wells's description of one of them :

" A big greyish, rounded bulk, the size, perhaps, of a bear, was rising
slowly and painfully out of the cylinder. As it bulged up and caught
the Ught, it glistened like wet leather. Two large dark-coloured eyes
were regarding me steadfastly. It was rounded, and had, one might
say, a face. There was a mouth under the eyes, the lipless brim of which
quivered and panted and dropped saliva. The body heaved and pulsed
convulsively. A lank, tentacular appendage giipped the edge of the
cylinder, another swayed in the air. . . . There was something fungoid
in the oily brown skin, something in the clumsy deUberation of the
tedious movements unspeakably terrible. Even at this first encounter,
this first glimpse, I was overcome with disgust and dread. Suddenly
the monster vanished. It had toppled over the brim of the cylinder and
fallen mto the pit, with a thud Uke the fall of a great mass of leather.
I heard it give a peculiar thick cry, and forthwith another of thes
creatures appeared darkly in the deep shadow of the aperture."

The narrator is a student of moral philosophy living at Maybury
Hill, and he becomes an eye-witness of many of the strange events
that follow : of the construction by the Martians of their fighting-
machines, of their advance upon London, of the rout of the military

122

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Jan. 29, 1898.

and flight of the populace, and of the ultimate and remarkable
collapse by which the world is freed from the invaders. The course
of evolution on Mars has been very different to ours : the Martians
have all gone to brain . Here they move heavily because the gravita-
tional force of the earth is greater than they are accustomed to.
But their mechanical appliances are irresistible. They mount
themselves upon vast walking tripods.

"Seen nearer the thing was incredibly strange, for it was no mere
insensate machine driving on its way. Machine it was, with a nnging
metallic pace, and long flexible glittering tentacles (one of which
gripped a young pine tree) swinging and rattling about its strange body.
It picked its road as it went striding along, and the brazen hood that
surmounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable suggestion of a head
looking about it. Behind the main body was a huge thing of white
metal like a gigantic fisherman's basket, and puflFs of green smoke
squirted out from the joints of the limbs as the monster swept by me.
And in an instant it was gone."

With the accuracy of Mr. "Wells's speculative science we deal
elsewhere. It is extraordinarily detailed, and the probable depar-
tures from possibility are, at least, so contrived as not to offend
the reader who has but a small smattering of exact knowledge. The
consistency and definiteness of the descriptions create an adroit illu-
sion. And, in anj' case, given the scientific hypotheses, the story as
a whole is remarkably plausible. You feel it, not as romance, but as
realism. Mr. Wells's art lies, we fancy, in the fact that, while
his monsters are sufficiently like mankind to be terrible, his
human beings are throughout so completely human. The
inhabitants of Chertsey and Woking behave, in presence
of the Martians, precisely as a Surrey suburban population
would. Mr. Wells never relaxes his hold on the commonplace,
everyday life, against which his marvels stand out so luridly. A
thousand deft and detailed touches create an atmosphere of actuality,
bring the marvels into the realistic plane. The moral philosopher
himself is thoroughly natural from beginning to end. So is the
drunken artilleryman, who devises a brilliant scheme for living the
life of a rat in a London subject to the invaders. He is not sure
that it wiU not be better than civilisation. On the other hand, the
imbecile and greedy curate with whom the narrator foregathers,
and whom he is reluctantly compelled to slay, seems to us to intro-
duce a needlessly farcical element. Mr. Wells must have suffered
from curates lately, we should think.

As a crowning merit of the book, beyond its imaginative vigour
and its fidelity to life, it suggests rather than obtrudes moral ideas.
The artilleryman with his scorn of the "damn little clerks" who
would willingly be fattened for Martian dietary, and might even be
trained to hunt their wilder fellows, has some truth on his side. In
the light of the imagined cataclysm certain follies and meannesses
of our civilisation stand out. Our smallness, after all, in the universe
receives its illustration. It is a thoughtful as well as an unusually
vivid and effective bit of workmanship.

II. — Me. Wells's Science.

Mr. H. Or. Wells has probably a greater proportion of admirers
among people actively engaged in scientific work than among any
other section of the reading public. It is not difficult to understand the
reason of this. Nothing irritates a man of science more than incorrect
assertions with reference to natural facts and phenomena ; and the
writer who essays to use such material must obtain information from
Nature herself, or he wUl provoke the derision of better informed
readers. Mr. Wells has a practical familiarity with the facts of
science, and this knowledge, combined with his imaginative mind,
enables him to command the attention of readers who are not
usually interested in romance.

The fact that Mr. Wells has been able to present the planet
Mars in a new light is in itself a testimony to originality.
The planet has been brought within the world of fiction by
several writers, but in the War of the Worldn an aspect of it is
dealt with altogether different from what has gone before. We
have had a number of stories of journeys to Mars, but hitherto, so
far as we remember, the idea of an invasion by inhabitants of Mars
has not been exploited. Astronomers can make out just enough
of the planet's surface to justify the conclusion that water and ice
or snow exist there, and that the land areas are at times traversed
by a network of canals or channels more or less enigmatical in
origin. According to Mr. Percival Lowell, who made an exhaustive
study of Mars in 1 894, these canals are really belts of fertilised

land, and are the only habitable tracts on Mars, the remainder of
the land surface being desert. The view that the Martians — it is
less unreasonable to think that Mars is inhabited than that it is
not — would look towards our earth with longing eyes is thus quite
within the bounds of legitimate speculation ; and the fact that
Mr. Wells put it forward before Mr. Lowell had brought before
the attention of British astronomers the reasons for thinking that
Mars at the present time is mostly a dreary waste from which all
organic life has been driven, is a high testimony to his perceptive
faculties. In other words, the reasons given for the invasion
of the Earth by Mars are perfectly valid from a scientific point of
view, and are supported by the latest observations of the nature of
tlie planet's surface.

Then, as to the intellectual status of whatever inhabitants there
may be on Mars, there is every reason for thinking that it would be
higher than that of man. On this matter the following words,
written by a distinguished observer of Mars — M. E. M. Antoniadi —
in July last, give evidence to the view of the Martians pre-
sented by Mr. Wells. Referring to the origin of the canal
systems, M. Antoniadi wrote :

"Perhaps the least improbable — not to say the most plausible— clue
to the mystery stiU attaches to the overbold and almost absurd assump-
tion that what we are witnessing on Mars is the work of rational beings
immeasurably superior to man, and capable of dealing with thousands
and thousands of square miles of grey and yellow material with more
ease than we can cultivate or destroy vegetation in a garden one acre
in extent."

Naturally, the view that beings immeasurably superior to man
exist upon Mars is repugpoant, but we see by the words quoted that
astronomers are being forced to accept it as the easiest method of
explaining the phenomena observed. Mr. Wells's idea of the
invasion of the earth by emigrants of a race possessing more
effective fighting machinery than we have is thus not at all
impossible ; and the verisinulitude of the narrative appeals more
strongly, perhaps, to scientific readers than to others not so familiar
with accepted opinion upon the points deftly introduced.

The most striking characteristic of the work is not, however, the
description of the Martians, but the way they are disposed of
after they had invaded the Earth. We venture to assert that
scientific material has never been more cleverly woven into the web
of fiction than it is in the epilogue of this story. The observations
of Pasteur, Chaveau, Buchner, Metschnikoff, and many others, have
made the germ theory of disease an established truth. In the
struggle for existence man has acquired, to a certain extent,
immunity against the attacks of harmful micro-organisms, and there
is little doubt that any visitors from another j)lanet would not be
able to resist these insidious germs of disease. The Earth itself
furnishes analogous instances : Englishmen who migrate to the
West Coast of Africa, or the strip of forest land in India known as
the Terai, succumb to malarial disease, and the Pacific Islander who
comes to reside in London or another large British city, almost
certainly perishes from tuberculosis. Mr. AVells expresses the
doctrine of acquired immunity so neatly that not to quote his words
would be to do him an injustice. He says :

"These germs of disease have taken toll of humanity since the
beginning of things — taken toll of our pre-human ancestors since life
began here. But by virtue of this natural selection of our kind we have
developed resisting power ; to no germs do we succumb without a
struggle, and to many — those that cause putrefaction in dead matter,
for instance — our living frames are altogether inimime. But there are
no bacteria in Mars, and directly these invaders arrived, directly they
drank and fed, our microscopic allies began to work their overthrow.
Already when I watched them they were irrevocably doomed, dying
and rotting even as they went to and fro. It was inevitable. By the
toll of a bUlion deaths, man has bought his birthright of the earth, and
it is his against all comers ; it would still be his were the Martians ten
times as mighty as they are. For neither do men live nor die in vain."

The book contains many other paragraphs which happily express
scientific views, but we must refrain from quoting them. Not for
an instant, however, do we think that Mr. Wells owes his success
to mere correctness of statement. Science possesses a plethora of
facts and ideas, yet not once in a generation does a writer arise
competent to make use of them for purposes of romance. Already
Mr. Wells has his imitators, but their laboured productions, distm-
guished either by prolixity or inaccuracy, neither excite the admira-
tion of scientific readers nor attract the attention of the world m
general.

Jan. 29, 1898]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

123

Middle Greyness. By A. J. Dawson.

(John Lane.)

In a dream it sometimes happens that the vagrant imagination
strikes out a phrase of surprising dignity. Slowly and tentatively,
the sleeper, if he be a person interested in words for their own
sake, gropes his way back to consciousness, grasping with both
hands his fluttering inspiration. For all that he can do the
captive is rarely brought home ; and if once in a while, being a
person of discrimination, he have his will of it, the glow has
quickly faded out. Mr. Dawson can dream with the best of us, but
he does not discriminate so well. One night he had a dream (let us
conjecture our way to the springs of Middle Greyness) : he was rapt
by a torrent of oratory. Of the stream of eloquence which
inebriated his soul but one precious drop won through to daylight.
"England and we who be English" — these were the words.
They rang in his head ; they became an obsession ; and about
them grew up the conception of Eobert Darley.

About this time a distinguished career had been blasted by
a scandal. That shall be embodied in our novel ; and because we
are aU Ibsenites now, the imijulse to evil shall be (as Dr. Middleton
might phrase it) hereditarily inherited. Which gives rise, on the
one hand, to EoUo Croft with his Odalisque and an indeterminate
lure named Bete, of which we are told nothing except that it has
a " piquant profile " ; and, on the other, to a father who in early
life had broken down under the same moral infirmity as shall
ruin the son. Him Mr. Dawson exiles to a New South Wales
gunyah, with a dog for his helpmeet. " Satan " and " fool dog "
are the terms by which in inflicting his confidences upon this
quadruped (for soliloquies are disallowed) the beachcomber
habitually apostrophises it. The person named EoUo revels in
redundancy. This is the way (he has a languid voice, beautifully
modulated, and wonderfully musical) :

" ' I thought you were supposed to be studying Hampshire rustics, or
Parliamentary debates, or something . . . This afternoon I've been
' working with a man who has a studio at Twickenham, and I came on
i here because I like the crowd and the river, served [!] with a band and a
! sunset. You may have noticed that the combination is distinctly
1 picturesque, though either taken separately are [sic] insipid, with the
exception, perhaps, of the simset, and even that wants something to
I focus it, don't you think ? ' "

I And in an epicurean tasting of life's flavours, thus :

" ' But tell me, what effect on you does the slow movement of that

' waltz have, taken with the sunset light on the water ? How does it

affect your immediate incUuations in the matter of what one ought to do

and where one ought to do it ? I ask, because it would be finfully

I Gothic under the circumstances to do anything which would not

I harmonise with this atmosphere.' "

I If this kind of thing amuses, Mr. Dawson's book will amuse.

j In a collection of short stories published some months ago under
the title Mere Sentiment, Mr. Dawson promised better things ; better
things he may give us in the future ; but this present volume is

■ beyond the limits of patience pretentious and vulgar.

Wayside Courtships. By Hamlin Garland,
(Neville Beeman.)

These are stories of the beginnings of love, love at first sight ;
! stories in which the chance encounter of two pair of eyes becomes
fraught with fate, happy or unhappy, for two lives. For the most
part Mr. Garland takes his theme seriously — sometimes, perhaps
i unconsciously, he burlesques it. Burlesque, at least, is to us the
leffect of the impulsiveness in "Upon Impulse." The hero who
j" looked into the upturned faces of the girls as if they were pansies "
iis suddenly smitten by one. Thus her friend comments :

1 " As they streamed away in files she said, ' Isn't he good-looking ?

We've known him for years. He's all right,' she said significantly, and

pqueezed Miss Powell's arm.

I ' Well, Lou' Blakesley, you're the same old irrepressible ! '

! ' Blushing already, you dear ! I tell you he's splendid. I wish he'd

take to you,' and she gave Miss Powell another squeeze. ' It would be

IsMcA a match ! Brains and beauty too ! ' "

I Surely this sort of thing rather rubs the bloom off young
bomanoe. Mr. Garland will appeal to those who like American ,

slang, American local colour, and American provincial character,
for he is redolent of up-country life. We confess to a feeling of
irritation at the ugliness of the setting, and the hideous iteration of
clipped words and elided vowels. Here is a specimen of Mr.
Garland's vernacular :

" Y'see, my division ends at Warsaw, and I run back and forth here
every other day, but I don't get much chance to see them, and I ain't
worth a cuss f'r letter- writin'. Y'see, she's only aunt by marriage, but
I like her ; an' I g^ess she's got about all she can stand up tmder, an' so
I like t'help her a little when I can. The old man died owning nothing
but the house, an' that left the old lady t'rustle f'r her Uvin'. Dummea
if she ain't sandy as old Saul. They're gitt'n' along purty."

We find some relief in the "Alien among the Pines," where the dia-
logue passes between English-speaking people, with only a faint salt
of Americanisms. This is a picturesque story of pine-wood clearing,
with, for central figure, a musician who has seen better days, but
chooses to efface himself as a woodcutter whUe he conquers his
passion for drink. Mr. Garland's landscape is vividly touched :

" The trail (it was not a road) ran like a graceful furrow over the hills,
around little lakes covered deep with snow, through tamarisk swamps,
where the tracks of wild things thickened, over ridges of tall pine clear
of brush, and curving everywhere amid stumps, where dismantled old
shanties marked the site of the older logging camps. Sometimes they
met teams going to the store. Sometimes they crossed logging-roads —
wide, smooth tracks artificially iced, down which mountainous loads of
logs were slipping, creaking, and groaning. Sometimes they heard the
dry click-clock of the woodsmen's axes, or the crash of falling trees deep
in the wood."

Mr. Garland has imagination and artistic intention, but his methods
are crude, and he seems to find it difficult to wind up his stories
without leaving ragged ends.

SOME APHOEISMS.
I. — Mk. Geohge Mebedith.

In that pleasant American budget of quoted matter, Current LiterO'
ture, we find a page of aphorisms snatched with varying judgment
from the pages of Mr. Meredith's novels.

The hero of two women must die and be wept over in common
before they can appreciate one another.

What a woman thinks of women is the test of her nature.

Convictions are generally first impressions that are sealed with
later prejudices.

One may be as a weed of the sea while one's fate is being decided.
To love is to be on the sea, out of sight of land.

Intellectual differences do not cause wounds, except when very
uninteUectual sentiments are behind them.

It has been established that we do not wax diviner by dragging
down the gods to our level.

Women don't care uncommonly for the men who love them,
though they like precious well to be loved.

After forty, men have married their habits, and wives are only
an item in the list, and not the most important.

That small motives are at the bottom of many illustrious actions
is a modem discovery.

Observation is the most enduring of the pleasures of life.

We women miss life only when we have never met the man to
reverence.

The young who avoid the region of Eomance escape the title of
Fool at the cost of a celestial crown.

True poets and true women have the native sense of the divine-
ness of what the world deems gross material substance.

The slave of a passion thinks in a ring, as hares run ; he will
cease where he began.

Success is costly. We find we have pledged the better part of
ourselves to clutch it ; not to be redeemed with the whole handful
of our prize. -*

124

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Jan. 29, 1898.

.-Masculine ideas are one thing ; but let feminine ever be feminine,
or our civilisation perishes.

Whether a woman loves a man or not, he is her lover if he dares
tell her he loves her, and is heard with attention.

II. — By E. L. Stevenson.

It is curious that a little publication, entitled The Steven/ion
Birthday Boole (Marcus Ward & Co.), has not received more notice.
True, birthday books fall into the category of books which are not
books. But Stevenson's name is magical, and the booklet in
question is at least interesting as a collection of his aphorisms.
Below we give a selection of those used by the editor of this
publication :

If a man love the labour of any trade, apart from any question
of success or fame, the gods have called him.

Habit and practice sharpen gifts ; the necessity of toil grows less
disgusting, grows even welcome, in the course of years ; a small
taste (if it be only genuine) waxes with indulgence into an exclusive
passion.

Marriage is of so much use to a woman, opens out to her so much
more of life, and puts her in the way of so much more freedom and
usefulness, that, whether she marry ill or well, she can hardly miss
seme benefit.

The time comes when a man should cease prelusory gymnastic,
stand up, put a violence upon his will, and for better or worse,
begin the business of creation.

Idealism in honesty can only be supported by perpetual effort.

To be a gentleman is to be one all the world over, and in every
relation and grade of society. It is a high calling, to which a man
must first be bom and then devote himself for life.

If you are to continue to be a law to yourself, you must beware
of the first sigps of laziness.

We live in an ascending scale when we live happily, one thing
leading to another in an endless series.

Style is the invariable mark of any master ; and for the student
who does not aspire so high as to be numbered with the giants, it
is still the one quality in which he may improve himself at will.

He is a wise youth who can balance one part of genuine life
against two parts of drudgery between four walls, and for the sake
of the one manfully accept the other.

To be truly happy is a question of how we begin and not of how
we end, of what we want and not of what we have.

Man is indeed marked for failure in his efforts to do right. But
when the best consistently miscarry, how tenfold more remarkable
that all should continue to strive.

There is not a life in all the records of the past but, properly
studied, might lend a hint and a help to some contemporary.

The mere privilege of beholding a comely woman is worth
paying for.

The essence^ of love is kindness; and indeed it may be best
defined as passionate kindness ; kindness, so to speak, run mad, and
become importunate and violent.

To know what you prefer, instead of humbly saying amen to what
the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul
alive.

Love rests upon a physical basis ; it is a familiarity of nature's
making, and apart from voluntary choice.

The thought that prompted and was conveyed in a caress would
only lose to be set down in words.

It 18 by careful method, and minute, unwearied attention, that
men rise even to material exactness, or to sure knowledge even of
external and constant things.

A generous prayer is never presented in vain ; the petition may
be refused, but the petitioner is always, I believe, rewarded by
some gracious visitation.

An intelligent person looking out of his eyes and hearkening in
his ears, with a smile on his face all the time, will get more true
education than many another in a life of heroic vigils.

Most of our pocket wisdom is conceived for the use of mediocre
people, to discourage them from ambitious attempts, and generally
console them in their mediocrity.

Dissatisfaction with our life's endeavour springs in some degree
from dulness. We require higher tasks, because we do not
recognise the height of those we have.

There is nothing so monstrous but we can believe it of ourselves.

Falling in love is the one illogical adventure, the one thing of
which we are tempted to think as supernatural, in our trite and
reasonable world.

0 to be up and doing, 0,
Unfearing and unashamed to go.
In all the uproar and the press,
About my human business !
My undissuaded heart I hear
WTiisper courage in my ear ;
With voiceless calls, the ancient earth
Summons me to a daily birth.

Though I have all my life been eager for legitimate distinctions,
I can lay my hand upon my heart, at the end of my career, and
declare there is not one — -no, nor yet life itself — which is worth
acquiring or preserving at the slightest cost of dignitj'.

BECKY SHAEP.— AFTEE.

In the February Longman^ n 3fagazme Mr. S. Arthur Strong brings
to light some letters written by Dickens and Thackeray to William
George Spencer, the sixth Duke of Devonshire. The gem of the
collection is a letter written by Thackeray to the Duke in which he
satisfies that nobleman's curiosity as to the career of the Vanity
Fair puppets after they had disappeared from the view of Thackeray's
readers. We quote a portion of this letter :

"Mrs. Eawdon Crawley, whom I saw last week, and whom I
informed of your Grace's desire to have her portrait, was good
enough to permit me to copy a little drawing made of her ' in
happier days,' she said with a sigh, by Smee, the Eoyal Academician.

Mrs. Crawley now lives in a small but very pretty little house
in Belgravia, and is conspicuous for her numerous charities,
which always get into the newspapers, and her unaffected piety.
Many of the most exalted and spotless of her own sex visit her,
and are of opinion that she is a most injured woman. There is no
sort of truth in the stories regarding Mrs. Crawley and the late
Lord Steyne. The licentious character of that nobleman alone
gave rise to reports from which, alas ! the most spotiess life and
reputation cannot always defend themselves. The present Sir
Eawdon Crawley (who succeeded his late uncle. Sir Pitt, 18.32;
Sir Pitt died on the passing of the Eeform Bill) does not see his
mother, and his undutifulness is a cause of the deepest grief to
that admirable lady. ' If it were not for highsr things,^ she says,
how could she have borne up against the world's calumny, a
wicked husband's cruelty and falseness, and the thanklessness
(sharper than a serpent's tooth) of an adored child ? But she has
been preserved, mercifully preserved, to bear all these griefs, and
awaits her reward elsewlwre. The italics are Mrs. Crawley's own.

She took the style and title of Lady Crawley for some time after
Sir Pitt's death in 1832 ; but it turned out that Colonel Crawley,
Governor of Coventry Island, had died of fever three months
before his brother, whereupon Mrs. Eawdon was obliged to lay
down the titie which she had prematurely assumed.

The late Jos. Sedley, Esq., of the Bengal Civil Service, left her
two lakhs of rupees, on the interest of which the widow lives in
the practices of piety and benevolence before mentioned. She has
lost what little good looks she once possessed, and wears false hair
and teeth (the latter give her rather a ghastly look when she
smiles), and — for a pious woman — is the best-crinolined lady in
Knightsbridge district.

Colonel and Mrs. W. Dobbin live in Hampshire, near Sir E.
Crawley ; Lady Jane was godmother to their little girl, and the
ladies are exceedingly attached to each other. The Colonel's
History of the Punaub is looked for with much anxiety in some
circles."

Jan. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

125

SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 1898.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

SOME time ago, it will be remembered, the
German Emperor said that no man who
was not a Christian could be a good soldier.
A week or so afterwards the Kladderadatsch
published a drawing representing Leonidas,
Frederick the Great, Alexander the Great,
Napoleon, and others, laughing over the
remark. Herr Trojan, the editor, an old
man, who has filled his place with honour for
thirty- six years, has in consequence been tried
for lese-majesU, convicted, and sentenced to
two months' imprisonment. We have
nothing to say, except that we are surprised
at Herr Trojan's removal, because Germany
is just now much more in need of a humorist
than an Emperor.

Apropos of the theories as to the Snark's
significance, which we print elsewhere, it
may be added that some excellent persons
still believe that the Bellman (who in Mr.
Holiday's illustrations is like a blend of
Longfellow and Tennyson) is no other than
Mr. Gladstone himself. In sujiport of this
belief as many reasons can be brought
forward as against it.

Meaxwhile, according to the Speaker,
the story is told of a certain bishop who
complained to Mr. Gladstone that the nature
of the Snark was not clearly defined. " But
the Snark, you know, was a Boojum," said
Mr. Gladstone. " Yes," replied the bishop,
"but what is a Boojum?" Mr. Gladstone
is said to have hinted, with his customary
delicacy, that a prelate who confessed to
doubts about the identity of the Boojum
was unworthy of ecclesiastical preferment.

So far the Speaker is a valuable commen-
tator on Lewis Carroll. But in continuing
its remarks it errs rather sadly. Eeferring
to " Jabberwocky " it says : " To a dis-

cerning Eadical, the Jubjub bird is
obviously Lord Salisbury, and the gru-
mious Bandersnatch haunts the Colonial
Office, while a Unionist will argue with
some show of reason that the most grumious
thing in creation is Mr. Labouchere." But
who said anything about " grumious " '?
Frumious, Sir Wemyss Eeid, frumious !

What was probably the last contribution
of Lewis Carroll to mathematical science
appears in Nature of January 20. It is a
long letter on a new method of abridged
long division, and is dated from Christ
Church, Oxford, on December 21, 1897.
As an example of the working of the method,
the number 86781592485703152764092 is
divided by 9993. To do this sum by ordin-
ary division involves the writing of 202
digits, and 204 additions or subtractions,
whereas by Lewis Carroll's method the
example can be worked by writing 44 digits,
performing 25 additions or subtractions, and
22 multiplications. The letter is distin-
guished by the severity of exactness which
marks all Lewis Carroll's mathematical
expositions.

It is always interesting to observe what
English books attract attention on the
Continent. Miss Kingsley's Travels in West
Africa is, we notice, the subject of two long
1 and exhaustive articles in J)e Nederlandsclie of
Amsterdam, the leading literary journal in
HoUand. The reviewer, Mr. A. G. le Van
Duyl, the doyen of the Dutch journalists,
speaks in the most enthusiastic terms of the
book, which he declares he has read no
fewer than three times.

A WRITER in the Publishers' Circular has
made an interesting list of the alterations —
very slight they are, but, from the point of
view of the careful literary artist, important
— made by Mr. Henley in the reprint of his
Bums Essay. We quote a few. In one
instance, the "Be this as it may" of the
original editions is changed in the reprint to
" For all this, though " ; in another, " not "
issubstituted for "none." Again, "knower"
gives place to " student " ; an " and " is
deleted at the beginning of a sentence,
" unknown " is interpolated in a quotation
from Burns ; " which means that " is turned
to "despite which." "I think" in one
case is altered to "I believe"; and "a
discrediting variety of causes " becomes " a
variety of discrediting causes."

The humorous and fanciful dramatic
adaptations of Hans Christian Andersen's
stories, which are now being played at
Terry's Theatre, should be held in mind
by those of our readers who wish to give
their little people amusement. Captain
Basil Hood, the author, has been com-
pelled to arrange each story — "The Tinder
Box," " The Emperor's New Clothes,"
and " Big Claus and Little Claus " — in a
single scene, and any departure from
the original sequence of events (and such
departures meet with severe criticism from
child critics) must be pardoned for this
reason. Considering his difficulties, he has

preserved an astonishing amount of -the
Danish writer's spirit. The acting is excel-
lent. Mr. Clarey, as the Emperor in one
play and the Mayor in another, is so engag-
ing as to make us wish a theatre might
permanently be set aside for such innocent
entertainments, with himself always in the
cast.

A NOTICE has been posted up in the
Nottingham Free Public Libraries to the
following effect: "The Librarian suggests
that Sir Walter Scott's Waverlev Novels be
read in chronological order, as below." Then
follows the list of novels in column, while
to each title is appended the dates of the
period of which the story treats, and the
locality in which it is laid. The Librarian's
request that this routine should be followed
assumes a good deal. Very few people
would care to go through the Waverley
Novels in any order, and those who did it
in chronological order would be students,
not novel-readers. Even the student might
be better employed. The table is interest-
ing, and useful for reference ; but we shall
be surprised if Nottingham readers consent
to read Scott by rule. There might be some
point in a publisher issuing the novels in the
order suggested. But what publisher would
allow Count Robert of Paris to be the first
volume of his series ? Our advice to persons
about to read Count Robert of Paris is —
Don't.

Is it a fair presumption that a literary
man should write brilliant letters to his
friends ? Perhaps, but there is no law.
Some writers — Turgenev, it seems, was
one of them — not only fail as letter-writers,
but their letters do not even suggest genius.
To the Eussian novelist we read, in Miss
Ethel Arnold's biography :

" Letters were precisely what they have been
to many hard - working literary men and
women, such as Balzac and George Eliot, for
instance — viz., merely a means to an end, that
end being the communication of necessary in-
formation to his correspondents. They made
no demand upon his literary sense, and, conse-
quently, obtained no response from it."

Matthew Arnold's letters were a similar
disappointment.

In considering Mr. Benjamin Swift along
with other " Younger Eeputations " in our
issue of December 4, we quoted a scrap of
his verse. Mr. Swift has contributed the
following little jingle to the Magazine of
Glasgow University :

" Phases.

" The clematis climbs
Like a purple adder,
And the sun's on the limes I

The moon has her paces.

The winds have the sea for a harp,

The stars their sure places.

Ah me, and the heart its own rue
Like a hush midnight burglar
Climbing up and through."

A correspondent suggests that Mr. Swift owes
his University readers an explanation — of
the last three lines at least.

126

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 2y, J 898.

At one time or other most bookhimters
are confronted with a nice problem in ethics :
they are asked to pay for a book a sum
which to their certain knowledge represents
only a fraction of its value. Some settle
such diificulties for themselves, others
ask advice. In the latter class is Mr.
J. A. Edmonds, who writes to us : "I am
not so unfortunate as to be a seller of
books, either new or secondhand, but, as a
•question of metaphysics,' it would be in-
teresting to know Mr. Lang's opinion of the
morality of the gentleman {vids the West-
mimter Gazette) who was recently lucky
enough to buy a copy of the first edition
of Charlotte Bronte's Villette (three volumes)
for one shilling from a secondhand book-
seller in the Eastern Counties."

Oxm impression is, that Mr. Lang has
already given his verdict in the moral
aspect of such " bargains." (By the way,
the very word " bargain " implies that the
dealer has been paid less than absolute
equity would dictate.) The sophism (or
sound argument) with which most book-
hunters satisfy their conscience is, that they
cannot be both buyer and seller too, and a
dealer should know his business. There
are also those who permit their lucky pur-
chases to stand against their unlucky ones,
and cry quits.

Mr. Davidson is a poet of whom we
have tidings too seldom; but a little re-
minder of his Fleet Street Eclogues comes
to us in the form of A Foursome at Rye,
a poem designed on somewhat similar lines
by Mr. John SomerviUe. The game of golf
has never had more zealous eulogy than is
ofEered it in this bright little poem. Here
is a sonnet on the Golfer's Joys :

" Seven are the golfer's joys. And first, the

drive,
Which flies o'er bunkers straight towards the

green :
Second, the cleek-shot, taken strong and clean,
Which makes him feel 'tis good to be aUve ;
Third, is the perfect loft which does not dive
Into the ditch, but drops and rolls serene
Straight towards the hole: and fourth, the

keen
Joy with a worthy foemau well to strive.

Fifth is the noble putt, so fair and true,
Which like an arrow speeds towards the hole.
And makes the sky look bright, tho' it be

stormy :
Sixth, is a hole in hand, when all looked

blue :
And seventh the crowning joy which calms

the soul —
The almost perfect bliss of being dormy ! "

And now comes Through a Glass Lightly,
a most attractively printed little book, a
mere featherweight of literature, by Mr.
T. T. Gregg, who writes thus in his prefatory
note of the editor who printed the majority
of its contents : — " It would not be easy for
me to repay Mr. W. E. Henley the deep
debt of gratitude I owe him for the literary
encouragement which, in common with
many others, I have always received at his
hands."

How many more books still lie buried in
the old National Observer ? We ask, because
almost from the inception of that paper
the writers in its pages have been gathering
their contributions into volumes; yet still
more volumes come, whose germ, at any
rate, found place there. Already there
are published, for instance, Diogenes in
London, The Autohiography of a Boy and
Monologues of the Bead, Old John and The
Stone Bragon, The Celtic Twilight and Barrack-
Room Ballads, The Lavi's Lumher-Room and
Th^ Rhythm of Life, The Golden Age and
Women's Tragediet,

"We like Mr. Gregg's dedication : " To
my father, from whose generous cellars has
floated up much of the inspiration of the
following essays." It is a wise author that
has such a father. Here is a taste of that
inspiration :

"Nectar is but a vague and shilly-shallying
poetasterism, which can by no stretch of
language be applied to the nobler stuff. For
the gods, and primitive man in their image,
draiA only when they were athirst. They
never sipped their liquor. Not theirs (poor
devils !) to roll it round the tongue, to toss it
playfully against the palate, to let it trickle ex-
quisitely down a gullet of educated sensibiUty."

And here we leave a book clearly not in-
tended for us.

In the dedicatory letter to a friend
which Mr. David Christie Murray prefixes
to his new volume of Tales in Prose
and Verse, he says that his versified
Tales have been all improvisations. One
was dictated to a friend after dinner. We
may yet be called upon to consider Mr.
Murray as a serious poet, for he writes :
' ' I have long been labouring on an ambitious
something which may yet turn out to be a
poem, and in the profound quiet and loneli-
ness of the winter retreat into which I have
stolen I may yet have the good fortune to
finish it."

At a time when competition among the
popular magazines is so keen as at present,
a bold advertisement is, we suppose,
necessary. But the following almost sins
against the rules of the game :

"RANJY'S BAT

may be depended upon to make a game of
cricket interesting and exciting. That is the
secret of Ranjy's popularity. The ' ■ Maga-
zine ' may be depended upon to provide each
month the most interesting budget of articles
and stories published. That is the secret of its
success."
And so on.

An Irish correspondent writes :

" Early among the celebrations of '98 comes
the Fainne an Lae ( ' The Dawning of Day ') a new
weekly paper published at Dublin in the Irish
language. The number which lies before me
consists of an eight-page sheet, printed partly
in English, and partly in the graceful Irish
type, which has come down almost unchanged
from the beautiful uncial characters of the
Book of Kells and other admired Irish M8S.
The Saxon will probably sniff at certain
eccentricities of Irish orthography. Not
that I am among those who condemn it as
a clumsy medium even for spelling Irish. It
seems to me well enough adapted to express the

native sounds, but hopeless for foreign names
or words. Thus New York appears as Nuadh
Fabhrac ; WiUiam Coinnigh, Ard Dligheadoir,
somehow seems less convincing than William
Kenny, Solicitor-General ; but the most in-
genious perversion of all is Ciao Tseamh for
Kiao Chow. This is so grotesque that a stranger
to the language will scarcely believe me when
I state that it fairly reproduces the correct
Chinese pronunciation. But laugh as you may,
the appearance of a journal for the piupose of
intensifying Irish nationahty by rehabilitating
its almost forgotten language is a serious
matter. Had such a weapon been possible in
the past we might still have the Pictish language
and nationality among us. Some will retort,
perhaps, that it is as well we have not, and, un-
deniably, although we may admit the fervid poetry
of the cry of Thomas Davis ' to have lost entirely
the national language is death,' in our saner
moments, in plain prose, we may doubt if Corn-
wall would be better off to-day if her ancient
language had not died with Dolly Pentreath."

On the authority of C. K. 8. in the IlluS'
trated London News, we may state that Mr.
Eudyard Kipling has completed a new
novel, entitled The Burning of the " Sarah
Sands," which is described as " a stirring
historical tale of maritime adventure." The
title itself is stirring enough, as Mr. Kipling's
titles are apt to be.

The authoritative memoir of the late Sir
Frank Lockwood is to be written by a
fellow Q.C. M.P., Mr. Augustine Birrell.
It is to be hoped that the book will be
kept short.

Mr. Murray announces a memoir of
Her Royal Highness Princess Mary Adelaide,
Buchess of Teck. This biography, based on
Princess Mary's private diaries and letters,
wiU be prepared by the editor of The
Sporting and Dramatic News.

Mr. Alfred Nctt has expressed a wish
to reply to the letter of Sir Walter Besant in
our last week's issue, but we regret our
inability to depart from the announcement
we then made that the correspondence upon
"Th^ Author's Figures" must cease. We
think that our readers, having heard both
sides over a period of some weeks, will have
no difficulty in making up their minds on
the questions raised.

Mr. Eichard Le Galliense left for New
York, in the Teutonic, with his wife last
Wednesday. Mr. Lane has in hand, for
production next month, Mr. Le Gallienne's
new novel The Romance of Zion Chapel.

A POSTHUMOUS volume by the late PhiUips
Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts, will be
issued shortly by Messrs. Service & Paton.
It will be entitled The Best Methods of
Promoting Spiritual Life, and wiU contain a
portrait of the author.

The author of The Gadfly— M.ra. E. L.
Voynich, whom most reviewers have taken
for a male novelist — is now engaged on a
novel of Austrian life. Mrs. Voynich is
an American lady who has lived much on
the Continent.

Jav. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

127

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED,

HENEY FIELDING.

Ox the first day of January, 1898, 1 departed
this life at my lodging in London. The
reader who has perused an Account of a
Journey from this World to the Next, discov-
ered by Mr. Fielding a hundred and fifty years
ago in Catherine-street, Strand, will need
no further description of the stages and
incidents of my soul's passage from the
Palace of Death to Elysium. The fashions
of the dead do not change. I did not, as
might be expected, travel in an immaterial
Pidlman car, and cross Cocytus in the
ghost of an excursion steamer, these modem
inventions not having as yet been imitated
by mechanics of the invisible world. It was
the ancient coach drawn by ghosts of dead
posting horses, though I will not swear they
never drew a tramway car or an omnibus,
that carried me off from the house in
Warwick-lane. The old ferry-boat bore me
across the dark river. Without further
particulars, then, I beg you to conceive me
as having passed through the usual adven-
tures, and been admitted to Elysium by
Minos. There is nothing very new to tell
until my arrival at the delicious grove of
orange-trees, which is the favourite haunt
of such spirits as in life pursued art. You
remember, do you not, that here my fore-
runner heard Orpheus play and Sappho
sing, and meanwhile talked with Homer,
who sat listening with Madam Dacier in his
lap ? Virgil came up to him with Mr.
Addison under his arm, and Dick Steele
following, and the author talked with
Shakespeare and Milton.

I began eagerly to inquire for the great
men who had died in my time ; but a tall
ghost, curiously like a picture of Thackeray,
replied, " My dear Sir, it is useless to seek
for them. It is the same here as yonder.
The new-comers are like little children.
'They roam the Elysian fields and rest in the
jmeads of asphodel, and have no desire to
|be spoken to. But after a time — well, after
jyouhave been as many years here as I have
Ibeen — you'll say the novelty begins to fade ;
!;ianitas vanitatum — is that not so ? " and he
[turned familiarly to the ghost of Charles
[Dickens.

"No place can bo dull," was the answer,
that has Father Henry in it. What a
smile he has, to be sure ; it is not a plain,
onunon, ordinary smUe, formed by parting
;he lips and showing a set of teeth. It
lOegins with a little twitching of the muscles,
Imd then it runs up the side of liis cheek
.md plays over his features, and mocks and
llances and gleams amid the ghostly smoke
sucked by ghostly lips out of the ghost of
lis old tobacco pipe."

"His pipe and his smile," interrupted
Thackeray: "that's you all over, Charles.
Set the oddities of a man and it's as much as
j'ou know of him." Upon which it seemed to
jne that Dickens was a little out of counten-
ance; but I did not observe him closely, for at
[his moment Fielding came up, leaning on
the arm of Sir Walter Scott. Beholding them

thus I could not but think that their expres-
sions had a similarity never to be noticed in
their pictures ; but spirits are less distracted
by such mere differences in shape and contour
as that the countenance of one inclines to
length and the other to heaviness. These are
but superficial characteristics due to the acci-
dents of birth and race. From the scraps of
conversation I heard, it appeared they had
been discussing matters not often spoken of
in Elysium, and the result was an animation
in the bearing of each that made me see at
once how they possessed an equal love of life
and stiU were alike capable of regarding it
genially from the outside. Scott, now that
the baths of Elysium had washed off the
imprint of care and tribulation, was the
more gleeful and pawky, and his laugh was
very frank and loving ; yet it appeared to me
that Fielding's was the keener wit, and he
surveyed even the orange groves and the
spirits who haunted them with a glance of
unsurpessable irony that was more amiable
even than Swift's, because it had no bitter-
ness. And, indeed, I noticed that the famous
English novelists (as could be seen by their
use of the term Father) bowed to him as their
chief. Scott did so and Thackeray and
Dickens, and I noticed that when G-eorge
Eliot came past, were she ever so much
engaged discussing the establishment of a
sociological school in heaven with George
Henry Lewes, she dropped a curtsey when
she came near Fielding. But though many
poets paid him an equal respect, he re-
turned all their greetings carelessly though
not unkindly, and seemed listening tq
Sir Walter, who was mirthfully upholding
the pre-eminence of eighteenth-century
Scotland as the hardest drinking country in
the world.

" Many a time down below there, Harry,"
he was saying, " I wished you could have
foregathered in Aidd Reekie with some
of our five and six-bottle men. Put ' a
tappit hen' between Squire Western and
Duncan Forbes, Lord President of the
Session, and the President wouldn't be first
under the table. As to your clergy they
were a feeble folk, if one were to judge
from your Supple, not to be compared with
such a man as Dr. Alexander Webster,
nicknamed ' Magnum Bonum.' Ministers,
lawyers, and lairds in my young days were
all jovial alike."

"'Pon my soul, Walter," said Fielding,
" thou makcst me almost wish Minos had
turned me back to be reincarnated as a
jolly Scot, though my experience of them
was none of the pleasantest ; but here is a
new-comer. Let us ask him what has been
going on down there since thou left it, and
whether our ancient craft is flourishing or
not."

"E'en as you like, Harry," said Scott;
" but the last I heard was that a regiment of
duU fellows were still beating the old drum
I handed to Dumas, and that the big bow-
wow style is succeeding better than ever."

" Prithee, friend," said Fielding, turning
to me, " if thou hast imagination enough to
conjure back the memory of an earthly
appetite thou mayest also fancy I have
asked thee to supper and a bottle of wine.
Thou wilt then converse of what interests
thee, which I have no doubt is the kingdom

of letters, for the inkstains are not yet entirely
washed from thy face. What sort of
histories do writers compose now ? "

"I have no doubt you are aware, Mr.
Fielding," was my answer, "that the reading
world is vastly enlarged since your day.
Population has increased, education has
been extended to all classes, bringing in
millions of new readers; and beyond sea,
in the United States and Canada, in Aus-
tralia and India and South Africa, there is
a public many times larger than you knew."

Scott appeared to kindle at these words.
"A man must have a real grip of human
nature to appeal to them all," he said.

" It does not work out that way," I
answered. "The novelists are divideid into
groups. Some call themselves romantic and
write historical novels somewhat like yours,
except that they depend on situation and
leave out character and humour." Scott's face
expressed the utmost amazement at this
exception ; but I proceeded — " A very good
line is to work theology or politics." ("This
is the way we used to talk of tradesmen," in-
terjected Scott. ) " Then there are large num-
bers who work the sea business, and others
who tilt at the marriage law, or the Married
Woman's Property Act, or the war between
male and female."

" God bless my soul," said Fielding, "has
it come to that? Then I wrote all those
initial chapters to Tom Jones in vain. It
was the bookseller fellow who began it. His
Pamelas and Clarissas crowded attention on
one little sickly spot in life instead of
human nature with all its different sides.
But to think of him being imitated ! Well, to'
be sure, 'tis easier to imitate Richardson"
than to follow Cervantes ; and I'U warrant
these newly educated crowds have little
knowledge of the ancients to qualify the
crudity of their taste. Let's go on comparing
our merry days on earth," he said to Scott,
and half turned away. " I printed my
pamphlets «« pamphlets," he added.

Scott, however, turned on me with a little
touch of severity in his voice. " I hope,"
he said, " that writers still recognise Field-
ing as the father of the English novel. I'd
expect them to turn against Shakespeare
as soon as against him."

"The best admire liim as much as
ever," I replied ; " but the women don't
like him." Fielding smiled, and said
that for all his praise of women he never
expected them to read him, but still he
would like to hear their objections ; so
in that region where nothing but truth can
find utterance I was literally compelled to
act the part of devil's advocate.

' ' They say that the Tom Jones theory of
life is degrading to the sex," I replied.
" That to let him escape punishment for his
licentiousness and give Sophia to his em-
braces was criminal. One eminent novelist
complains that Tom had no conscience ;
another says he would turn out a drunken, ,
profligate husband, and that your happy
ending was only a beginning of misery."
Scott was about to reply to this with heat,
when his companion motioned him to be
silent.

" If this be criticism," quoth he, "criticism
is as bad as it was in my own day; but
don't they like my women ? "

128

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 29, 1898.

■ "Oh, Mr. Fielding," I said, "the names
of your shady females are scarcely fit for
mention. Mrs. Slipslop and Lady Booby,
Miss Matthews and Mrs. Waters, Molly Sea-
grim, Laetitia Snap, and Lady BeUaston,
what a disreputable crew, to be sure ; then all
your landladies, barmaids, kitchen-wenches
— frailty, thy name is woman ! "

Fielding's good-humour was imperturb-
able. "Pray tell me," he said— "and
pardon me for using the direct terms of the
time I lived in — would it be considered
a very unusual occurrence in the world
thou hast left if a yoimg sqtiire seduced a
gamekeeper's daughter ? Is there no
Miss Matthews, no Lady BeUaston, no Lady
Booby in the elegant society thou hast come
from ? Are the inns kept by virtuous land-
ladies and piire barmaids ? No, thou
answerest ; why, then, had I to go back
to the world I would prefer my own
truth-telling time."

" But they say," I argued, " that you
must have actually preferred the shady side
of life— in short, that these characters are
brought in for the sake of playing with
vice ; that you positively enjoy a risky
situation."

" WeU, weU," said Fielding, " I re-
member, before thou camest, Walter, there
was a fat man, who had been a critic and a
poet, sought me all over Elysium. I was
sitting with William Hogarth at the time,
and both wishing there was some vice and
ugliness here, were it only to heighten the
good and beautiful by contrast, when he
posted up to say that Eichardson's work
was diseased and mine healthy. 'Pen my
word, he never gave me a chance to thank
him, but talked of Kant and Hegel and
object and subject till I was glad to escape
from him. He knew that I had drawn the
human animal, not, indeed, with all those
deep passions and aspirations which are
discovered by Homer and Shakespeare, but
as he was in our unheroic age. I was
entirely honest in the matter, I assure thee,
and painted society just as I saw it."

"They hold that you never saw the
spiritual side," said I. "There is no
Sturm und Brang experience in your heroes,
no struggles of the soul, no deep insight
through the garmentage of life into what is
essential and eternal."

"What the devil does this all mean?"
cried Fielding in surprise. " I know that
Minos has turned my old friend Square, the
philosopher, back into the world, but he has
picked up a new lingo if this be he under
another shape. Canst thou explain it, Scott ? ' '
" Not a doit ! " answered Sir Walter.
"Yet I seem to remember to have heard
mutterings of the kind while still in the
flesh. They were encouraged by Goethe and
a Scotch disciple of his, to whom I paid
scarcely as much attention as he deserved."
" I suppose, then," said Fielding, " the
principal use now of Tom Jones and Joseph
Andrews and the rest is only to serve as
butter paper — that is \o say, if any copies of
these worKs still survive."

"Not at all," was my reply. "The
number of readers is now greater than ever.
More new editions and more copies are issued
to-day than in your lifetime. Why, not long
ago one of your descendants made an |

expurgated edition for women and children."
Fielding stared at this piece of intelligence,
and asked me to explain who read him.
' ' Always at a time of great literary activity
and healthy movement," I said, "you are
admired and placed at the top. The strong
men recognise your strength. It is the weak
second-rater who runs you down, and when
I left the game was aU in the hands of the
second-raters. They make a great noise, and
perhaps fancy or deceive themselves into
fancying that they express the opinion of the
day. But they have no influence at all on
the best intellects, further than to make them
ignore contemporary literature altogether,
and go back to you and the rest."

As was to be expected from his frequent
invocation of " the bright love of fame," the
great novelist appeared highly gratified at
this intelligence, and asked what it was they
most admired in him. Did they like those
exercises in the mock heroic, the composition
of which had made him so proud ? Or the
copious and learned extracts that illiterate
Gtrub-street could not imitate ? Or the
sparkling essays in criticism disposed like
a kind of framework round the story ?

" Only a httie for these things," was my
reply ; " but most of all for that they hold
you to be the greatest master of narrative
style who ever wrote in the English tongue.
The supple, sinewy strength of the sentences ;
their apparent ease and simplicity; their
real force and expression and mastery are
unapproached. Other writers may beat you
in detaU. Sterne's dialogue is occasionally
ipore vividly characteristic. Swift's irony,
though never quite so fine and finished, is
at times more bitterly effective. Sir Thomas
Browne is richer in imagery and sug-
gestion. Johnson has more force and
dignity, but the prose of Tom Jones,
taking it all round, is easily first, be-
fore even that of Addison or Steele, and
far before that of Thackeray, who alone
among recent writers has approached it. And
in Tom Jones your style is at its best. In
Joseph Andrews it had not fully matured ;
while in Amelia it is past its meridian. This
is an age of scholarship, and there are
scores of youths who could make a show of
as much learning as you possessed. What you
prided yourself most-on was capable of being
acquired ; the style which was only half-
conscious is inimitable."

Sir Walter Scott heard this with very
slight admiration. " When I was launching
my three-deckers," he said, " we paid much
less attention to mere form. I myself liked
Tom Jones best, because I felt the grip of
a man in it. There never was any weakness,
whatever the other faults might be, in
anything done by Fielding. And there is
not one of the women you mention brought
in merelj' for the sake of a ' warm ' scene.
MoUy and Mrs, Waters have their place in
as grand a plot as was ever laid. As to
Lady BeUaston, faith, Harry, you went just
a trifle over the score for once ; but the rest
are drawn frank and free from Mother
Nature, though you were luckier with the
women characters than the men. Squire
Western and Parson Adams are two that
never were beaten, and are never likely to
be. The rest are not very extraordinary.
There is Partridge — he has too much of

our old friend Sancho Panza in him ; and
Allworthy makes me think of Taylor the
water-poet's prayer when he, being drunk,
asked the Virgin for strength to leap on his
horse, and she gave him so much he fell on
t'other side — ' Oh, Lady Mary ! Dear Lady
Mary ! when you are good you are too

good ' — and Thwack' em and Square "

"Hold, hold, Scott," cried Fielding, "or
thou wilt leave me as poor in reputation as
my Lady Floribel was after two dowagers had
caught her leaning on the shoulders of Joseph
Andrews. Come, we have had enough of
this, and I cannot help myself })y printing
it in a new initial chapter. Orpheus and
Sappho are going t<j give a concert; let us
go and hear them again, for, 'pon my word,
I protest 'tis the nearest approach to a play-
house that Elysium aiiords."

Here the MS. suddenly breaks off, just as
its predecessor had done ; and if there were
any more, it has, as Fielding said of the
other, probably been destroyed in rolling
up pens, tobacco, &c., and those who know
the passage know also the warning it
contains. P.

THE SNAEK'S SIGNIFICANCE.

Much fruitless speculation has been spent
over supposed hidden me£inings in Lewis
Carroll's Hunting of the Snark. The inclina-
tion to search for these was strictly natural,
though the search was destined to fail.

It is possible that the author was haH-
consciously laying a trap, so readily did he
take to the inventing of puzzles and things
enigmatic ; but to those who knew the man,
or who have divined him correctiy through
his writings, the explanation is fairiy
simple.

Mr. Dodgson had a mathematical, a
logical, and a philosophical mind ; and when
these qualities are united to a love of the
grotesque, the resultant fancies are sure to
have a quite peculiar charm, a charm so
much the greater because its source is subtle
and eludes all attempts to grasp it. Some-
times he seems to revel in ideas which are
not merely illogical but anti-logical, as
where the Bellman supplies his crew with
charts of the ocean in which the land is
omitted for the sake of simplicity, and
"north poles and equators, tropics, zones
and meridian lines " are rejected because
" they are merely conventional signs." Or,
as in the Barrister's dream, where the Pig,
being charged with deserting his sty, the
Snark pleads an alibi in mitigation. At
other times, when the nonsense seems most
exuberant, we find an underlying order, a
method in the madness, which makes us
feel that even when he gives Fancy the
rein the jade knows that the firm hand is
there and there is no risk of a spill, such as
seems to be the fate of so many nonsense-
writers, if we may judge by the average
burlesques of the day. Take "Jabberwocky,"
for instance. The very words are unknown
to any language, ancient or modem; but
they are so valuable that we have adopted
them and translated them into most Ian-

Jan 29, 18!*8.]

THE ACADEMY.

129

guages, ancient and modem. What should
we do without " chortle," " uffish," " heam-
ish," "galumphing," and the rest? The
page looks, when we open it, like the wander-
ings of one insane ; but as we read we find
we have a work of creative genius, and that
our language is enriched as to its vocabulary.
Whether the humour consists chiefly in
the conscious defiance of logic by a logical
I mind, or in the half-unconscious control by
! that logical mind of its lively and grotesque
' fancies, in either case the charm arises from
^the author's well-ordered mind; and we
jneed not be surprised if the feeling that
I this is so leads many to look for some
hidden purpose in his writings.

The real origin of T/ie Hunting of the
Snark is very singular. Mr. Dodgson was
walking alone one evening, when the words,
"For the Snark was a Boojum, you see,"
icame spontaneously into his head, and the
poem was written up to them. I have
heard it said that Wagner began " The Eing
tof the Nibelungs" by writing Siegfried's
["Funeral March," which certainly contains
the most important motives in the work, and
that the rest of the trilogy, or tetralogy,
'was developed out of it ; but as this great
work, though finished after the publication
of The Hunting of Uw S)iark (1876), was
.certainly begun beJEore it, it is scarcely open
Ito me to maintain that the great German
iiaster of musical drama plagiarised in his
Methods from our distinguished humorist.

Starting in this way, our author wrote

.hree stanzas of his poem (or "fits" of his

' agony," as he called them), and asked if

i would design three illustrations to them,

lixplaining that the composition would some

ilay be introduced in a book he was con-

omplating; but as this latter would certainly

lot be ready for a considerable time, he

|hought of printing the poem for private

lirculation in the first instance. While I

,.-a8 making sketches for these illustrations,

e sent me a fourth "fit," asking for another

rawing; shortly after came a fifth "fit,"

•ith a similar request, and this was followed

y a sixth, seventh, and eighth. His mind

ot being occupied with any other book at

le time, this theme seemed continually to

e suggesting new developments ; and having

xtended the "agony" thus far beyond his

riginal intentions, Mr. Dodgson decided to

jublish it at once as an independent work,

[ithout waiting for Sylvie and Bruno, of

hich it was to have formed a feature.

I rather regretted the extension, as it

semed to me to involve a disproportion

jetween the scale of the work and its

fibstance ; and I doubted if the expansion

ere not greater than so slight a structure

;0uld bear. The " Walrus and Carpenter "

bpeared to be happier in its proportion, and

mattered little whether or not it could

rtablish a claim to be classified among

cerary vertobrata. However, on re-reading

j.e Snark now I feel it to be unquestion-

)ly funny throughout, and I cannot wish

jiy part cut out; so I suppose my fears

pre unfounded.

jl remember a clever undergraduate at
(sford, who knew the Snark by heart,
filing me that on all sorts of occasions, in
tl the daily incidents of life, some line from
je poem was sure to occur to him that

exactly fitted . Most people will have noticed
this peculiarity of Lewis Carroll's writings.
In the thick of the great miners' strike of
1893 I sent to the Westminster Gatette
a quotation from Alice in Wonderland
about a mine; not a coal-mine, it is true,
but a mustard-mine. Alice having hazarded
the suggestion that mustard is a mineral,
the Duchess tells her that she has a large
mustard-mine on her estate, and adds, "The
moral of that is — the more there is of mine
the less there is of yours " ; which goes to
the root of the whole system of commercial
competition, aud.was marvellously apt when
landowners were struggling for their
royalties, mine-owners for their profits, rail-
way companies for cheap fuel, and miners
for wages; each for "meum" against
"tuum."

In our correspondence about the illustra-
tions, the coherence and consistency of the
nonsense on its own nonsensical understand-
ing often became prominent. One of the
first three I had to do was the disappearance
of the Baker, and I not unnaturally invented
a Boojum. Mr. Dodgson wrote that it was
a delightful monster, but that it was inad-
missible. All his descriptions of the
Boojum were quite unimaginable, and he
wanted the creature to remain so. I assented,
of course, though reluctant to dismiss what
I am still confident is an accurate repre-
sentation. I hope that some future Darwin,
in a new Beagle, wiU find the beast, or
its remains ; if he does, I know he wiU
confirm my drawing.

When I sent Mr. Dodgson the sketch of
the hunting, in which I had personified
Hope and Care —

" They sought it with thimbles, they sought it
with care,
They pursued it with forks and hope " —

he wrote that he admired the figures, but
that they interfered with the point, which
consisted in the mixing up of two meanings
of the word " with." I replied, " Precisely,
and I intended to add a third — 'in com-
pany with' — and so develop the point."
This view he cordially accepted, and the
ladies were admitted.

In the copy bound in veUum which he
gave me the dedication runs: "Presented
to Henry Holiday, most patient of artists,
by Charles L. Dodgson, most exacting, but
not most ungrateful of authors, March 29,
1876."

The above instance will show that though
he justly desired to see his meanings pre-
served, he was not exacting in any un-
reasonable spirit. The accompanying letter,
written after the work was complete, will
sufficiently show the friendly tone which
had characterised our correspondence.

Henry Holiday.

Jan. 26, 1898.

[copy.]

' ' My deak Holiday, — I floished off my letter
at Brighton yesterday in a hurry, and omitted
to say how pleased I am with the proofs you
sent me. They seem to me vmst successfully
cut, and I agree with you in thinking the head
of ' Hope ' a great success ; it is quite lovely.

On my return here last night, I found the
charming chess-boards, for which accept my
best thanks. My sister and I have played

several games of ' Go-bang ' on them already.
(I need hardly remark that they serve just as
well for that, or for draughts, as they do for
chess.)

Now for another bit of designing, if you
don't mind undertaking it. MacmUlan writes
me word that the gorgeous cover will cost
Is 4d. a copy ! Whereas we can't really afford
more than od. or 6d., as we must not charge
more than 33. for the book. My idea is this,
to have a simpler cover for the 3g. copies,
which will, no doubt, be the ones usually sold,
but to offer the gorgeous covers also at 4s. , which
will be bought by the rich and th'se who wish
to give them as presents. Whit I want you
to do is to take ' Alice ' as a guide, and
design covers requiring about the same amount
of gold, or, better, a little less. As ' Alice '
and the ' Looking-GIass ' have both got
grotesque faces outaide, I should like these to
be pretty, as a contrast, and I don't think we
can do better than to take the head of ' Hope '
for the first side, and ' Care ' for the second ;
and, as these are associated with ' forks ' and
' thimbles ' in the poem, what do you think
of surrounding them, one with a border of
interlaced forks, the other with a shower of
thimbles ? And what do you think of putting
a bell at each comer of the cover, instead of a
single line ? The only thing to secure is that the
total amount of gold required shall be rather
less than on the cover of ' Alice.'

All these are merely suggestions : you will be
a far better judge of the matter than I can be,
and perhaps may think of some quite different,
and better, design. — Yours ever truly,

L. Dodgson.

The Chestnuts, Guildford, Jan. 15, 1876."

II.

Human perversity has identified the Snark
with everything possible and impossible.
There exist people who, led away by the
exquisite demonstration given to the
Butcher by the Beaver, have seen in it
a treatise on pure mathematics. Others
will have it that the Bellman is only
an Arctic explorer and the Snark the
North Pole ; while a few, basing their
conjecture on the fact that the Barrister
bears, in his portrait, an extraordinary
resemblance to the late Dr. Kenealy,
maintain that the Snark is the Tichbome
Claimant. In fact, each reader finds the
Snark that he deserves. My own is Fortune,
and I am always lost in astonishment at the
people who think it can be anything else.
Observe the things with which its capture
was attempted. Why, the mere mention of
railway shares and soap is sufficient of itself
to establish my thesis. And then look at
the dramatis persona and their actions. The
Butcher, perceiving that novelty is the
secret of success, announces himself as tho
only beaver-butcher in this or any other
country, and the Baker aims at interest
by specialising in bride-cakes. Even the
Banker, whose celebrated interview with
the Bandersnatch gave him so great a fright
" that his waistcoat turned white," abandons
his legitimate business in favour of the issue
of insurance policies against fire and damage
from hail. The Barrister dreams of points of
the utmost nicety and rarity, and the influence
of luck in the court is prettily emphasised
by the Snark's assumption of the preroga-
tives of the Judge. The Bellman is a truly
pathetic figure. He is the type of the man

130

THE ACADEMY.

[Jaw. 29, 1898

who pursues fortune without any sufficient
consideration of the facts of practical life,
and I fancy that he must, at one time or
another, hare lost a good deal of money on
the Stock Exchange. His sorrowful remark
that "he had hoped, when the wind was
due East, that the ship would not travel
due West," is just what one could expect
from a disappointed speculator. Of the
Billiard-marker nothing is recorded, save
that " his skill was immense " ; but that of
itself was more than sufficient justification
for his joining in the search for Fortune,
and he may well have been the most success-
ful in the end of all the crew. The
dichotomy of Snarks into those which have
" feathers and bite " and those which have
" whiskers and scratch " does not, I think,
indicate anything more than a belief that
there is more than one sort of good fortune,
and that all are somewhat to be feared.
The habit — common, apparently, to all
Snarks — of breakfasting at five o'clock tea
and dining the day afterwards, so obviously
typifies the tendency of Fortune not to come
to a man until it is too late to give him any
pleasure that it is unnecessary to labour the
point. The taste — " meagre and hollow,
but crisp " — I regard as finally settling the
question. All varieties of Snark have them,
and the most fortunate of mankind freely
admit that this is the real flavour of success.
On my hypothesis the Bandersnatch would
be Scandal. In Through the Loohing-
Glau this creature is more than once
referred to as extraordinarily difficult to
stop or to catch, and the judicious reader
will remember how the Banker entirely
failed to divert its attacks by the offer of large
discount or even bearer cheques. But what,
then, is the Boojum ? It is a kind of Snark
— that is clear from twenty passages. But
if a sort of good fortune, how could it have
so distressing an effect upon the man they
called Ho? Well, I think a Boojum is
that sort of sudden, unexpected luck which
puts a man " above his boots," carries him
into a sphere in which he is miserable, and
makes his wife cut the greengrocer's lady.
It is a very dangerous creature, and the
warning of the Baker's Uncle is more than
justified. M. H. T.

III.

Ax ingenious friend of mine once main-
tained, with considerable speciousness, that
The Hunting of the Snark was written as a
satire on the craving for what is called
"social advancement." According to his
view, the people who hunt the Snark are
the people who try to " get into Society,"
the bankers, bakers, butchers, billiard-
markers, and barristers of our day. They
are headed by an individual who rings a
bell because their endeavour is to attract
attention. They never do get into Society,
these good people. The Snark is never
caught. They only find a Boojum, which
my friend interpreted as a kind of suburban
set, where they " never are heard of again "
— in the Morning Post. The theory, on the
face of it, has much to be said in its favour,
and I trust to get further details from my
informant. Why, for instance, did the

Bellman always repeat everything three
times :

" What I say three times is true,"

he says, with marked emphasis ?

"Ah," said my friend, "the Bellman was
one of those tedious people who always repeat
themselves, and who believe that a thing is
proved if it is only asserted sufficiently often.
I have met loads of them. Can you wonder
that they never get into Society 't The suburban
Boojum ^which I take to be a kind of Browning
Society) is the only place for them."

This seemed convincing, and I next inquired
why it was the Baker who found the
Boojum, and not one of the others. My
friend's reply was oracular. "Bakers," he
said, " never get into Society. Barristers
and bankers sometimes ; bakers never. The
Baker, therefore, was very rightly put out
in the first round." No further information
could I extract from my friend, and when
my questions g^ew pertinacious, he yawned
and went away. For myseK, I am tempted
to accept his view, and to believe that
the whole poem is a prophetic satire on
the career of the late Barney Bamato.
Students of the poem will remember that
all the Snark-hunters' names begin with a
" B," which is, I think, strong evidence of
my theory.

St. J. E. C. H.

THE LONDON OF THE WEITEES.

V. — The Poets of the Thames.

The Thames has been sting in all ages of
song. The Elizabethans, naturally, saw it
most as a pure and limpid stream, haunted
of nymphs and whispering of love. Spenser
made it murmur through a bridal lay.
The urban Thames, the Thames which re-
flected the spires and gardens of London,
does not live much in Elizabethan verse.
The thoughts of the Elizabethans were not
domestic, but were in the ends of the earth.
Yet Herrick could not have faUed to sing of
the London Thames. He loved London.
He greeted it with lyric rapture on his return
to its streets, and when he bade them fare-
well it was to the river that he committed
his tears. No lovelier lyric of the pride and
sweetness of Elizabethan London remains to
us than this song, in which the " silver-
wristed Naides" and "golden Cheapside"
are quaintly packed :

" I send, I send here my supremest kiss
To thee, my silver-footed Thamasis
No more shall I reiterate thy strand,
Whereon so many stately structures stand :
Nor in the summer's sweeter evenings go
To bath in thee, as thousand others doe ;
No more shall I along thy ehristall gUde,
In barge with boughs and rushes beautifl'd
With soft-smooth virgins for our chaste

disport,
To Richmond, Kingstone, and to Hampton

Court:
Never againe shall I with ftnnie ore
Put from or draw unto the faithfull shore,
And landing here, or safely landing there,
Mate way to my beloved Westminster,
Or to the golden Cheap-side, where the earth
Of Julia Herrick gave to me my birth.

May all clean nimphs and curions water-
dames i
With swan-like state flote up and down thy

streams :
No drought upon thy wanton waters fall
To make them leane and languishing at all :
No ruffling winds come hither to disease
Thy pure and silver-wristed Naides I
Keep up your state, ye streams; and as ye

spring
Never make sick your banks by surfeiting !
Grow young with tydes, and though I see ye
never '

Deceive this vow, so fare ye well for ever ! " '

Michael Drayton did us a like service.
He traced the river from Windsor down-
wards, and it was on the river flowing through
London that he spent himself :

" Then to Westmiaster the next gi-eat Thames

doth entertain ;
That vaunts her palace large, and her most

sumptuous fane
The land's tribunal seat that challengeth for

hers
The crowning of our kings, their famous

sepulchres.
Then goes he on along by that more beauteoos

strand,
Expressing both the wealth and bravery of

the land.
(So many sumptuous bowers, within so Uttle

space.
The all-beholding Sun scarce sees in all his

race)
And on by London leads, which like a

crescent lies.
Whose windows seem to mock the stwr-

befreckled skies ;
Besides her rising spires, so thick themselves

that show.
As do the bristling reeds within his banks

that grow.
There sees his crowded wharfs, and people-

pest'red shores,
His bosom overspread with shoals of labour-
ing oars ;
With that most costly bridge that doth him

most renown
By which he clearly puts all other rivers

down."

But we owe the earliest deliberate poetical
eulogy of London's river to WiUiam Dun-
bar, Scotland's g^eat disciple of Chaucer.
The pomp of his lines has seldom been ex-
celled. He saw London in the first years of
the sixteenth century, when he came over
from France in the train of ambassadors
sent to negotiate the King's marriage.
And thus he saluted the " Flour of Cities of
All":

" Genune of all joy, jasper of jocunditie,

Most mighty carbxmcle of virtue and
valour,
Strong Troy in vigour and in strenuitie ;
Of royall cities rose and geraflour ;
Empress of townes, exalt in honour,
In beawty berying the crone imperiall ;

Swete paradise, precelling in pleasure :
London, thou art the Flour of Cities all.

Above all rivers thy River hath renowns,
Whose beryall stremys, pleasant and pre-
clare,
Under thy lusty wallys renneth down,
Where many a swanne doth swymme with

wingis fare ;
Where many a barge doth saile, and row
with are.
Where many a ship doth rest with toppe-
royall.
O towne of townes, patron and but compare
London, thou art the Flour of Cities all."

Jan. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

131

" Where many a swanne doth swyinme
with wingis fare" : surely all the beauty of the
Thames that we have not seen is suggested
in that line. A living poet has sung of the
Thames swans with a note of sadness. The
scene is Westminster and the song Mr.
Watson's. We quote two stanzas :

" Two stately swans ! What did they there ?
Whence came they ? Whither would they

go?
Think of them — things so faultless fair —
'Mid the black shipping down below I
On through the rose and gold they passed,
And melted iu the morn at last.
We ne'er shall kuow : our woudermeut
No barren certitude shall mar.
They left behind them, as they went,
A dream than knowledge ampler far ;
And from om- world they sailed away
Into some visionary day."

Thus the centuries have distanced the
I " glory and the dream " !

Some fine lines in praise of the urban

Thames occur in Cowley's poem on the
, completion of Queen Henrietta Maria's re-
I pairs of old Somerset House. The poet
. endows the renovated j)Lle with personality,
i and makes it sing its Queen's and its own
i praise. Note thejjicture of the " glorious
! bow " (Michael Drayton's " crescent ")
1 formed by the river between Westminster

and Blackf riars :

" Before my gate a street's broad channel

goes.
Which still with waves of crowding people

flows.
And ev'ry day there passes by my side.
Up to its western reach, the London tide,
The springtides of the term : my front looks

down
On all the pride and bus'ness of the Town :

My other fair and more majestic face

(Who can the fair to more advantage place ;•)

For ever gazes on itself below.

In the best mirror that the world can show.

And there behold, in a long, bending row,
How two joint cities make one glorious bow ;
The midst, the noblest place, possess'd by me.
Best to be seen by all, and all o'er see.
Which way soe'er I tm-n my joyful eye,
Here the great Court, there the rich Town, I

On either side dwells Safety and Delight,
Wealth on the left, and Pow'r upon the right,
T' assure yet my defence, on either hand,
I Like mighty forts, in equal distance stand
' Two of the best and stateliest piles which e'er
: Man's Hb'ral piety of old did rear,
; Where the two princes of th' apostle's band.
My neighbours and my guards, watch and
command."

The interest of the poem, as a tribute
of the Thames, is not exhausted in the
above passages. We have not space t»

^ quote the Imes in which the poet pleads

I against the "virtuoso's" condemnation of
the shabby Surrey side. But the follow-

'ing lines ring true to-day, and in-
struct the Londoner how, as a patriot, he

I should eye the waters that chafe the

j Embankment :

j" And thou, fair River ! who still pay'st to me
I Just homage in thy passage to the sea.

Take here this one instruction as thou go'st :
I When thy mix'd waves shall visit every coast,
j When round the world their voyage they shall
I take
I And back to thee some secret channels take.

Ask them what nobler sight they e'er did meet,
Except thy mighty Master's sov'reign fleet,
Which now triumphant o'er the main does

ride.
The terror of all lands, the ocean's pride."

Savage — of all men — struck the same note
in his poem, "London and Bristol Com-
pared." It is a pity that his outburst of
love to London was inspired by hate of
Bristol :

' ' Now silver Isis brightening flows along,
Echoing from Oxford shore each classic song ;
Then weds with Tame ; and these, O London,

see
SwelHng with naval pride, the jiride of thee !
Wide, deep, unsullied Thames, meandering

glides
And bears thy wealth on mild majestic tides.
Thy ships, with gilded palaces that vie.
In glittering pomp strike wondering China's

eye;
And thence returning bear, in splendid state.
To Britain's merchants, India's eastern

freight."

The poets of the Pool and of the lower
Thames are few. As it is, we have the
jingles of Taylor, the Water-Poet, remark-
able as records of seventeenth century
water-life. We have the breezy and
melodious songs of Charles Dibdin, in which
the sailors and watermen of Georgian
days, their debauches, their loves, and their
ships, are celebrated. But of imaginative
poetry we have little below bridges.

THE BOOK MARKET.

THE SALE OF MINOE POETEY.

WE believe that a revival of interest
in the works of living "minor"
poets has resulted from the crowning of
Mr. Stephen PhiUips's Poems by the
Academy. Inquiry shows, however, that
this is not universally the case. We give
below a selection of replies we have received
from booksellers on the subject. It appears
that Mr. PhiUips's Poems are in brisk
demand, and that the sale of other con-
temporary poetry has in places been stimu-
lated :

A London bookseller sends the following
report :

" A new interest in poetry generally has
been created by the Academy in " crowning"
Mr. Stephen Phillips's Poems, and in bringing
so prominently before its readers the merits of
some other of oiu' modern, not minor, poets ;
for if the opinion of a bookseller be worth any-
thing (which is doubtful, according to your
egotistical anonymous correspondent), the
poetry of some of our so-called minor poets
will bear comparison with, if it does not excel,
much that has been written by the great poets
of the past.

When the award of the Academy became known
there was a brisk demand for Mr. PhiUips's
Poems and Mr. Henley's Essay on Burns — the
former going out of print in three or four days.
Two other books to which attention was drawn
— Mr. Newbolt's Admirals All and Mr. Wat-
son's Hope of the World — have been seUing
well ; whUe there has been a fair demand for
Colonel John Hay's Poems, Mr. Watts-Dunton's

Coming of Love, &c., Mr. Owen Seaman's Battle
of the Bays, Mr. Francis Thompson's Poems,
and the two volumes by Carmen Sylva. There
has been a large demand for Mr. Austin
Dobson's Collected Poems, and Mr. Kipling's
Barrack-Room Ballads, Seven Seas, and Depart-
mental Ditties always sell weU.

Another London bookseUer's experience
is less rosy. He writes :

" I do not hesitate to say that, so far as our
experience goes, the sale of the poems of Mr.
Stephen Phillips and Mr. Henry Newbolt has
had no effect whatever on the sale of minor
poetry generaUy — it is, and always wiU be, a
' drug in the market,' and with the exception
of the spurt three or four years ago, when we
were infaroduced to Mr. Watson, Mr. Francis
Thompson, Mr. John Davidson, and one or
two others, who are stiU popular, there is
absolutely no change to note. The general
pubUc wiU not have it at any price, and the
number of bookbuyers is too smaU to make
many volumes reaUy successful."

A Bristol correspondent writes :

" Mr. Kipling's Barrcxk-Room Ballads is
worth more to the trade than the whole of the
output of other versifiers. Of the latter, Mr.
WiUiam Watson always seUs. Mr. Stephen
Phillips's work is of interest now, but we have
not yet met with an enthusiast among the
purchasers of his Poem'. Mr. Newbolt's
Admirals All seUs freely."

From Birmingham we learn :

" Mr. Stephen Phillips's Poems had been
recognised in Birmingham by a small circle
before he was crowned by the Academy, but
since then a greater interest has been awakened
in him. Mr. Newbolt's Admirals All is stiU
in demand."

A Bournemouth bookseUer writes :

" I have always found a steady sale for some
of the minor poets. Mr. Watson's new poems,
as issued, have always sold very fairly. Mr.
Davidson's baUads used to sell weU, and sell stiU.
Mr. John B. Tabb's Poems have sold fairly
this season. Mr. Francis Thompson's first
volume of verse sold weU, and his later volume
has gone fairly. I think Mr. WUUam Watson
is generally accepted here as the favomite of
modem minor poets, and Mr. Le GaUienne's
poetry sells."

A Cheltenham bookseUer makes a sugges-
tion :

" We have done fairly well with Mr. Phillips's
Poems, but minor poets are very unsaleable. I
would suggest that minor poets would issue
their early works iu dainty Uttle volumes,
elegantly bound and printed, with one or two
very pretty illustrations, thus making attractive
and inexpensive gift-books."

An Eastbourne bookseUer, who has little
demand for the works of Hving poets,
endeavours to account for the fact :

' ' I have received orders for Mr. Phillips's
I'oems, but cannot say that it has caused any
increased demand for minor poetry. Pei'sonaUy,
I think the cause of the decline in the readers of
poetry is the dropping out of Poetry from
most of the leading schools, more particularly
boys'. At one time it always formed a part of
education ; now it is quite an exception, except-
ing in high-class ladies' schools."

132

THE ACADEMY.

[Jan. 29, IS98

THE WEEK.

THE principal books of the week are
biographical ; and there is a continua-
tion of the output of books of travel. But
publishing, as a whole, remains inactive.

Mk. Austin Dobson is the guardian of
Hogarth's fame in our generation ; and he
has just issued a new and revised edition of
his biography of the artist. It contains much
more matter than its predecessor, which was
published in 1891. The " Memoir " has been
revised, the " Bibliography " extended, and
the catalogues of Hogarth's Prints and Paint-
ings have been verified and supplemented.
In a special preface to this edition Mr.
Dobson makes the following interesting plea
for Hogarth as a colourist :

"The unprecedented modem development of
the graphic arts, and the prevalence of a milder
method in satire, hare, perhaps, somewhat
attenuated the interest hitherto felt in Hogarth
as an engraver and a pictorial moralist. But
the tenacious admirer cannot fail to have
observed with complacency that Hogarth's
reputation as a painter has grown, and con-
tinues to grow. It is not of great importance
now that dimng his lifetime Churchill called
him ' Dauber,' and Wilkes spoke of his por-
traits as ' almost beneath criticism,' since they
were simply flowers of faction. Yet it must be
remembered that others of his contemporaries
said much the same thing. Horace Walpole,
for example, held the colouring of the Sigis-
munda to be 'wretched,' and he asserted in
sober earnest that ' as i painter Hogarth had
but slender merit.' The verdict of the Straw-
berry Hill virtuoso was echoed by many, long
after the deaths of both artist and critic ; and
Hogarth's pictures, dispersed for the most part
in private hands, were not forthcoming to
plead their own cause. When at last a
selection of them was brought together in
1814 and 1817, it began to dawn upon the
spectator that secondhand report had been
more at fault than usual, and this view gained
ground steadUy imtil the exhibition of 18C2,
when the matter ceased to be oven doubtful.
Since then, as specimen after specimen has been
submitted to an unbiassed pubUc at Burlington
House and elsewhere, the reaction has gone on,
and though here and there a jarring voice is
still heard, the practical consensus of critical
opinion in England, in America, and on the
Continent, is to the effect that, so fir from
being an indifferent coloiuist, William Hogarth,
at his best, was really a splendid painter,
worthy to rank in aU respects with the greatest
of his contemporaries of the brush."

The book is beautifully produced, and
runs to nearly 350 large octavo pages.

A LETTEK from Mr. Gladstone does duty
as a prefatory note to Mr. James Francis
Hogan's (M.P.) The Gladstone Colony. This
proposed colony is now all but forgotten.
But Mr. Hogan makes the object of his
book clear in the following passage in his
introduction :

" In this book, then, I have endeavoured to
present a complete and comprehensive survey
of Mr. Gladstone's poUtical connexion with the
Colonies. For the iirst time a fuU and detailed
account is given of Mr. Gladstone's most in-
teresting experiment as Colonial Secretary,
namely, his attempted establishment, just fifty
years ago, of a new colony to be called North
Australia. That colony did sot succeed in

securing a permanent place on the map, but its
intended metropolis — the site on which Mr.
Gladstone's frontier settlers encamped — was
successfully estabhshed, and continues to have
Mr. Gladstone's name to this day. ... In
addition. ... I have devoted some space to
Mr. Gladstone's ideas on the problem of the
treatment and reformation of the prisoners
transported from the British Isles to the penal
Colonies — a subject in which, as Colonial Secre-
tary, he took the deepest interest, and which
was the main impulse and inspiring motive of
the new colony that he endeavoured to
establish."

It will be of interest to quote Mr.
Gladstone's prefatory letter. It is dated
"Hawarden, April 20, 1897," and is as
follows :

" Dear Me. Hogan, — ^My recollections of
Gladstone were most copious, and are now half
a century old.

The period — December, 1845, when I became
Colonial Secretary — was one when the British
Government had begun to feel nonplussed by
the question of transportation. Under the
pressure of this difficulty Lord Stanley, or the
Colonial Office of this day, framed a plan for
the establishment, as an experiment, of a pure
penal colony without free settlers (at least at
the outset).

When I came in, the plan might have been
arrested in the event of disapproval ; but the
Government were, I think, committed, and I
had only to put the last hand to the scheme.

So it went on towards execution.

In July, 1846, the Government was changed,
and Lord Grey succeeded me. He said he
would make none but necessary changes in
pending measures. He, however, annihilated
this scheme. For that I do not know that he
is to be severely blamed. But he went on, and
dealt with the question in such a way as to pro-
duce a mess — I think more than one — far worse
than any that he foiuid. The result was the
total and rather violent and summary extinction
of the entire system.

Here I lost sight of the fate of ' Gladstone.'
It has my good wishes, but I have nothing else
to give. — Yours very faithfully,

"W. E. GLVDSTOira:."

We may add that Mr. Hogan's book wiU
not be aU pleasant reading to Mr. Gladstone.
A chapter headed, " A Grievous Error of Mr.
Gladstone's," revives the circumstances of the
recall of Sir Eardley Wilmot from his post
as Governor of Van Diemen's Land in 1846.
The case excited intense interest at the time,
and was used by Mr. Gladstone's opponents.

An interesting arrival is the Autobiography
of Arthur Young, the writer on agriculture,
whose work. Travels in France Buring 1787-
1790 is still consulted as a remarkably
graphic description of the state of France
just before the French Eevolution. The
autobiography has been edited by Miss M.
Betham Edwards, who writes :

" From seven packets of MS. and twelve folio
volumes of correspondence I have put together
all that a busy pubHc will probably care to know
of Arthur Young — his strength and weakness,
his one success and innumerable failures, his
fireside and his friends."

Arthur Young was a magnificent blun-
derer. The editors of a recently published
biographical dictionary tell us that on a
small farm in Essex, which he rented from
his mother, he made three thousand un-
successful experiments. On a larger farm he

ruined himself. Yet he was " one of the

first to elevate agriculture to a science."

In the later years of a chequered and
many-sided life, Arthur Young fell into
religious melancholia.

NEW BOOKS EECEIVED.

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The Book o» thk Twelve Peophets. By George Adams

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Gainnees Rogers, D.D. James Bowden.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
The Life or Peikois Puce, 1771—1854. By Graham

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Ebhest R. BiLrouB. By R. J. Mackenzie, M.A., and the

Rev. 0. G. Lang, M.A.
Mr Liri iir Two Hbmisphebes. By Sir Charles Oaran

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The CrrizEK or Ihdia. By W. Lee- Warner, C.S.I. Mac-

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POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTaES.
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Death or Faust froh tbb Secohd Past. Longmans,

Green 4 Co.
Br Seveeh Sea, axd Otheb Poems. By T. Herbert

Warren, M.A. John Murray. 7s. «d.
The TowitELET Plays. Re-edited from tbe unique MS, by

George England. With Side-notes and Introduction by

Alfred W. Pollard, M.A. Kegan Paul.

NEW EDITIONS OF FICTION.
The Oaxtoss. ByLordLjtton. Service 4 Paton.

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A Teit-Booi or Zoology. By T. Jeftery Parker, D.80.,
and William A. Haswell, M.A. 2 vols. Macmillan 4
Co. 368.

TOPOGRAPHY AND TRAVEL.

ExPtOEATIOH AXD HUHTINO IJT CENTRAL AFRICA, 1895-W.

By A. St. H. Gibbons, F.R.G.S. Methuen 4 Co.
Tub Niobb Soubces, ahd the Borders or the Nlw

SiEEEA Leohb Peoiectobate. By Lieut-Col. 1. K.

Trotter, R.A. Methuen & Co. 5s.
The Cockxey Columbus. By David Christie Murray.

Downey 4 Co. 6s.
Travels asd Exploratioits or the Jesutt MissioitiEiis

iif New Fbahob. Edited by Reuben Gold Thwaites.

5 vols. Elliot Stock.

FOREIGN.

La Fiif DU Classicisms, et lb Hktour i l'Abihjuj.
Par Louis Bertrand. Librairie, Hachette et Cie. (Paris).

EDUCATIONAL.
AiroiEBT Classics fob Exglish Readers : Ovid. By the
Rev. Alfred Church, M.A. Livr. By Rev. Lucas W.
Collins, M.A. Wm. Blackwood 4 Sons. History or
BirGLABD roB the Use or Middle Forms of Schools.
By F. York Powell, M.A., and T. F. Tont, M.A.
Part II. Longmans, Green 4 Co. 28. 6d.

MISCELLANEOUS.
WmxBT or THE FuTUBE, BBixG A FoBECAST. By Lieut.'
Col. B. Lowslpy. Swan Sonnenschein. Ss. 6d. Tbe
Yeab-Book of Treatmebt fob 1698. Cassell 4 Co.
78. ed. The Stoby of the Bbitish Coixase. By
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APPLICATIOX or PsTCBOtOOY TO BdUCATIOX. BJ

Jobann Friedrich Herbait. Translated by Beatrice C.
MuUiner. With a Preface by Dorothy Beale. Swan
Sonnenschein 4 Co, 4s. 6d.

Jan. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

133

DRAMA.

i~^7"0 Shakespearean play is more read
|_[^ or oftener quoted than "Julius
iCsesar" ; but this popularity it does not owe
to the modern stage, which has shown a
strange disposition to relegate it to the
iupper shelf. The last great English actor
who revived " Julius Caasar " in London was
Phelps, and with the exception of a few
istray performances of the tragedy at Drury-
lane, his triumph (in the part of Brutus)
dates back to the golden period of Sadler's
AVells. From this limbo of neglect the
noblest of the historical plays has at length
been rescued by Mr. Tree, and no one
witnessing the ornate and impressive pro-
duction at Her Majesty's can help a feeling
of surprise that this play, with its wonderful
adaptability to the art of mise-en-scene, should
inot earlier have attracted the attention of
;the modem manager. From the acting point
of view, no doubt, "Julius Cresar " presents
Idrawbacks. It contains little or no " female
interest," and the three chief characters —
Brutus, Cassius, and Antony — stand so nearly
!jn an equality that the actor-manager must
be as much jjuzzled to choose among them
18 the ass in the fable between his bottles
pf hay. CiTjsar himself is a striking character,
;:hough his greatness is manifested chiefly in
;he deference paid him. Brutus attracts by
lis faultless rhetoric and pose, Antony and
IJassius by their intellectual subtlety. Mr.
iCree elects to play Antony, assigning
Brutus to Mr. Waller, and Cassius to Mr.
Franklyn McLeay. This distribution of
)art8, on the whole, is happily made; it
yould be difficult, with the present resources
|>f the London stage, to suggest a better.

1 But it is mainly by reason of its pictorial

[ualities that the present production, in

.vhich Mr. Alma Tadema, E.A., has taken

Ji important hand, excels. The Lyceum

Itself has shown us nothing finer in mount-

;Dg. The busy streets of Eome, with their

loingled crowds of senators, patricians, and

ilebeians, live before us, the whole showing

igainst a background of marble edifices

ind stately architecture indicative of a

lawning imperialism. When the Saxe-

leiningen Company visited this country

fteen years ago to play "Julius Oeesar"

I'ley surprised London managers by their

exterous manipulation of the crowd. Mr.

i'ree has profited by the example. By

lint of the expression given to the popular

lasaion, the forum scene, where Brutus and

'ntony successively harangue the crowd, is

ne of the most moving episodes known to

lie stage. Swayed now this way, now that,

jie crowd becomes a veritable factor in the

^rama, as well as a curious object lesson in

lemocracy. The shouters are with Brutus

hile he is addressing them ; but Antony,

aving his opportunity, deftly turns their

lassions in his favour, and the exhibition

f the " bleeding lump of clay " that once

as Csesar, and of the dagger-rent and

ilood-stained cloak of the dictator, rouse

'le fury of the mob to its height. It is, in

iiith, a memorable scene. But everywhere

jie plastic hand of the artist is in evidence.

jvery scene has the careful composition of

a picture. Notably is this so with Csesar's
assassination in the Senate House. In
order to throw Antony into prominence,
Mr. Tree has edited the text so as to extend
the first act to Antony's entry to the dead
body of Cajsar. This gives an act of two
hours' duration, probably the longest on
record. On the whole, a representation
worthy of its subject !

If the Stage suffers a little in general
from the lack of candid friends it cannot
be said at the present time to lie under
that disadvantage. To Mr. Clement Scott,
who has been assailing it on the score of its
morality, succeeds Mr. Pinero, who exposes
its ill-manners, its pose, its pretentiousness,
its insincerities. There could be no severer
indictment of the theatrical profession than
Mr. Pinero has drawn up in the guise of his
genial comedy, "Trelawny of the Wells."
To be sure, the period of the story is not of
the present day, nor is the scene laid in a
West End theatre. Mr. Pinero treats of the
" early sixties " and of life behind the scenes
at Sadler's Wells, familiarly known as " the
WeUs " ; but if the externals of the pro-
fession have been modified since that time,
its spirit assuredly has not. The Ethiopian
does not change his skin nor the leopard
his spots within a generation. And what a
sordid picture it is thus limned by a master
hand ! One is almost surprised to find
actors lending themselves with so much zeal
and cordiality to an exposure of the seamy
side of their calling, which, even to the pub-
lic in front, is in some degi'ee painful.
Many dramatists — English and French —
have brought the actor before us with a halo
of romance on his brow — David Garrick,
Nance Oldfield, Kitty Clive, PegWoffington,
being examples. It has been reserved for
Mr. Pinero to turn his lantern upon the
green-room, and even to follow the popular
idol home to his shabby theatrical lodg-
ing. Nothing more painfully realistic than
" Trelawny of the WeUs " — a section of the
public, perhaps, will call it comic — has
proceeded from this painstaking dramatist's
pen since he wrote " The Second Mrs.
Tanqueray."

"Stoey" one speaks of in connexion
with this play, but story is hardly the word ;
for the plot is meagreness itself. ' ' Trelawny
of the WeUs " is a sketch-book rather than
a play. Such dramatic effect as it embodies
is obtained by contrast, the inner life of the
stage, with its tawdry squalor being thrown
into sharp relief against a background of
West End society. The " Trelawny " of
the title is, in fact. Miss Trelawny, leading
lady of " the Wells," who in the first act
is being feted by her colleagues at a dinner
on her departure for the West End, as a
preliminary to her marriage with the grand-
son of Sir William Gower. The Bohemianism
of a Clerkenwell lodging in contrast with
the formality and straitlacedness of Caven-
dish-square ! Such is Mr. Pinero's theme,
which he proceeds to illustrate act by act.
For the better working of the scheme a
curious condition is imposed upon Miss
Trelawny's emancipation. She leaves the
stage, but not immediately to wed her
aristocratic fianci. She has to pass a few

weeks in the house of her prospective father-
in-law, in order, we are told, to become
acquainted with the usages of good society.
Strange society it is, even for the abode of
a senile Vice-ChanceUor in the early sixties !
In the sombre drawing-room, after dinner,
everybody dozes ; music is tabood ; the most
violent distraction indulged in is family
whist. Here, perhaps, there is a touch of
caricature introduced, for the sake of
heightening the effect. Sir William is
pompous, tetchy, old-fashioned, with his
eternal silver snuff-box, and his " much
olleeged " ; and he has a maiden sister more
fossilised, if possible, than himself. That
such a family should be receiving a theatrical
lady into its bosom is passing strange.

What Miss Trelawny's social training has
been we learn from the dinner at which
" pro's " of every line of business — the heavy
father, the tragedy queen, the singing
chambermaid, the low comedian, and the
rest — assemble to pay her their respects.
Mr. Pinero has noted the actor in his habit
as he lives, and fills the scene with realistic
portraits. In his delineation of the actor's
vanity, of his bombast, of his jealousy, of
the sham glitter and tinsel of the theatrical
profession, he is unsparing. It is, in truth,
a squalid picture. Stimulated with draughts
of beer from the public-house round the
corner, the company grow hilarious and
loud. The tragedian picks his bones with
his fingers while declaiming against the pre-
judice of those who declare that the actor is
not a gentleman ; the low comedian thinks
it a capital joke to sit down to table with a
lady's bonnet on his head. The note of the
gathering is vulgar, rowdy. But every
reveller, even in his cups, is an actor still,
strutting with a stage stride, re-echoing in
his trivial talk the rhetoric of the Sheridan
Knowles drama, and passing the salt with a
theatrical air. How Miss Trelawmy relishes
her transplantation from amid such sur-
roundings to the boredom of Cavendish-
square may be guessed. She pines for her
liberty like a caged bird. After the manner
of the heroine of "Le Mariage d'Olympe,"
she is seized with la tiostalgie de la houe.
Here is contrast, indeed, and the effect is
heightened when one night she gratifies her
Bohemian yearnings by introducing into the
seigneurial drawing-room, after Sir William
and his sister have gone to bed, a party of
her old colleagues from "the WeUs." The
men suck their dirty pipes, help themselves
to the Vice-Chancellor's Uquor, quarrel and
fight; the women scream. The scene is
pandemonium, in the midst of which Sir
WiUiam and his sister appear in their
dressing-gowns. Naturally the experiment
of civilising Miss Trelawny ends. She goes
back with her coUeagues to "the WeUs," and
the aristocratic engagement is broken off.

So far, contrast has been obtained by
bringing the players imder Sir WiUiam's
roof. It is now Sir WiUiam's turn to look
up the players in their proper habitat. This
he does with a view to "doing something"
for Miss Trelawny. He finds her in Sie
ClerkenweU lodging-house where the mem-
bers of " the Wells " company " dear " and
" darUng " each other in the free-and-easiest

134

THE ACADEMY.

[Jax. 39, 1898.

of eamaraderie, and have tte run of each
other's rooms. Contrast again ! Among the
"pro's" is a young dramatist engaged in
" general utility," in whom can be detected
some affinity with the late T. W. Eobertson,
for Mr. Pinero remembers that the early
sixties saw the germs of the "teaoup-and-
saucer drama." By way of a reaction
against the rhodomontade of the Sheridan
Knowles school, the young dramatist
dreams of a drama in which men will appear
in tweed suits and girls in muslin frocks.
It is Sir William who gives him his chance
by financing the production of one of his
plays, " Life " — a Eobertsonian title — at the
Parthenon Theatre for the benefit of Miss
Trelawny. After that, in the fourth act,
comes a realistic rehearsal of the new play
with Sir William as an interested onlooker ;
which yields contrast again, thanks mainly
to the presence of a noisy stage-manager
who "darlings" all the ladies of the com-
pany ; and here, somewhat perfunctorily, the
long estranged lovers are reunited with Sir
William's blessing. From this circumstance
it will be guessed how little plot, properly
so-called, there is in the piece. This
absence of story tends to make the play
drag and may jeopardise its chance of a pro-
longed popularity, but the contrasted types
of character are vivid and interesting to the
last. In this effect, the costumes play their
part — the hideous crinoline, the pork-pie
hat, the gi-easy bag-net, the white cotton
stockings, the elastic-sided boots, the peg-
top trousers, of the period, all showy and
vulgar. The company of the Court Theatre,
where "Trelawny of the Wells" is pro-
duced, appear to find it a congenial task to
enact the "pro's" of a previous question.
One and all, they do it as though to the
manner bom — Miss Irene Vanbrugh, Miss
Hilda Spong, Miss Pattie Browne, Mr.
Athol Forde, Mr. George du Maurier, Mr.
E. M. Eobson, and others. A graphic em-
bodiment of old-world senUity is given by
Mr. Dion Boucicault as Sir William, and the
prototype of Eobertson is sympathetically
rendered by Mr. Paul Arthur. A young
peer sustains the part of the fance, disguising
his identity under the name of " James
Erskine."

J. P. N.

CORRESPONDENCE.

NEWSPAPEE ENGLISH.

Sir, — In his recent interesting article on
" Newspaper English " Mr. Nisbet raised a
point that deserves further consideration
before his conclusion can be accepted. In
his judgment, the phrase " No one was
there but I " is wrong, because the word
" but " has the same force as " except,"
and should, therefore, be followed by the
objective " me." The common usage is,
however, not only- defensible, but also
probably correct. Take another instance :

" The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled."

When this was proposed to me not long
ago as an example of questionable grammar,
my first opinion was in agreement with

Mr. Nisbet's, although it seemed that the
rule which would substitute " him " for
" he " in these lines was one more honoured
in the breach than in the observance. Then
other phrases were examined : "AH but he
were saved." It sounded right. "They
saved no one but he." It seemed un-
utterably wrong. After turning many other
sentences about in the same way, I came to
the conclusion that the pronoun followed
the case of the collective word with which
it was placed in contrast, and that this was,
therefore, an instance of attraction over-
riding any dubious prepositional force in
the word " but."

Perhaps it were best to make no hard
and fast rules. I cordially agree when
Mr. Nisbet affirms that the purists threaten
to become insufferable pedants. If the
"garden" of our English speech is " running
wild," still there are seasons when the tares
must be left to gi-ow for awhile, because
weeding is more dangerous to the crop. The
language is not a dead thing, to be cut to
measure. Is not Mr. Nisbet a little in-
consistent in his desire for " an authoritative
declaration with respect to" one of his
puzzles ? There is, so far as I am aware,
no authority great enough to settle these
matters, except the English people. It may
be objected that they are not capable. They
were capable, though, of creating the lan-
guage ; and, as a matter of fact, they are at
this present time settling one of the minutest
details of it — a small affair of spelling.

It is well known that every trade has a
number of technical words, wliich are good
English, but are by no means familiar to the
general public. So long as these words
are not used outside the factories, it is
common to find that they may be spelt in
a variety of ways, all coiTect. You take
your choice. A wheelwright tells me, for
instance, that it is quite optional whether
you write "lynch pin," or " linch-pin," or
"lince-pin"; that "felley" is as common
as "felloe"; and so on. But, he says, the
spelling of " tyre " is becoming fixed. Ten
years ago, "tire," "tier," or "tyer"were
permissible alternatives, the word probably
standing for the thing that tied a wheel
together. But now that it has escaped from
the wheelwright's shop and every bicyclist
uses it, we are coming to an arbitrary
decision in favour of " tyre." It probably
has not occurred to either wheelwright or
bicyclist that the question should have been
submitted to an authority.— I am, yours, &c.,

G. S.

Sir, — If the endless controversy between
the rights of " Whitsun Day " and " Whit-
sunday," to which Mr. J. F. Nisbet alludes,
could be put to a "Folks-Eeferendum," or
in appeal to the language traditions of the
common people, judgment must certainly
be given on behalf of the earlier of the two
forms. I have been in the habit for some
years past of taking evidence upon the point
whenever I have come across any contem-
porary mention of the season in seventeenth
century documents. To empty the contents
of my notes into the columns of the Academy
would require more of them than you could
possibly spare. But I wiU select four,
which prove that the " Whitsun " use pre-

vailed among all classes of the Englis
people throughout the seventeentli centur
1615 : Parish Eegister of Youlgrove, c.
Derby, "Witson Week." 1634: SirWilliai
Brereton {Travels in Hollund, p. 12) — "Upo
Whitsun-Tuesday, about 11 of the cloe!
we took waggon for Dort." 1 660 : WUliai
Caton the Quaker {AutoUograjihy, p. 99)-
"The time called Whitsuntide." 1672
Oliver Heywood (one of Calamy's Tw
Thousand Nonconformist Confessors, Hunter
Life of 0. H., 2.39, 240)— "God hath c(
out work for me in a new place, for upc
Whitsun Tuesday, May 28, I was calk
to preach at John Butterworth's house i
Warley."

The oral tradition still survives. C
Bank-holiday, June 6, 1892, I had
chat upon the road with an octogenarisi
townswoman, who said to me, "A gre,
many more people came to Harrow la
Whitsun-Monday."

I doubt whether the contraction of " Whi
sun" into "Whit" is especially characte
istic of the modem English love for shoi
ness as some imagine. The contraction
"Pfingsten" into "Pfingst," in the cor
pounding of a pentecostal phrase, has becon
no less frequent among the Germans ai
the German Switzers. The word " Pfin
sten " is generally restricted in the popul
Calendars to the Sunday, while the ne;
day is called " Pfingstmontag," and n
" Pfingsten-montag." Similarly Whitsi
plays or games are now generally calli,
" Pfingstspiele." — I am, yours

T. Hancock, i

Harrow-on-the-HiU.

NEWSPAPEE LATIN.

Sin, You will be doing a service if yi
will call attention to two familiar blunde
which one meets with too often in new
papers, and even in more permanent litei
ture.

Why should a priori, a posteriori, a f
tiori, &c., be so often written A prio
d posteriori, d fortiori, as if they w(
French, not Latin ?

The use of ctci bono in the sense of j
what good purpose ? is one for which,
Macaalay would have said, any fifth foi
boy wovdd be fiogged. No other meani
of the words is possible than that in whi'
Cicero used them in his celebrated oratio
for whose benefit ?

Is it not possible to check the use, m

adopted even by writers who ought to '

us a better example, of the word phemmei

in the excruciating sense of "remarkable

Alfred W. Bexnett.

EDUCATION FOE THE CIVIL
SEEVICE OF INDIA.

Sm,— With reference to Mr. Emil Eeic,
letter complaining that my article contaii)
no reference to Mr. Wren's success:
training-college (not to use an invidic
word) — he himself gives a sufficient i
planation, if any is needed, in the f'
that the Eeports of the Commissioners '
not furnish statistics of such estabhshmer
However, no injustice was intended, a-
Mr. Wren's success is matter of comm

Jan. 29, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

135

knowledge. I think, however, that probably
Mr. Reich claims too much for him ; if not,
he could easily establish his case by a few
figures. Taking the official returns for
1892-3 and 1895— the only ones I have at
hand — I find that in those years there passed
into the Indian Service from Oxford and
Cambridge seventy-three and thirty-eight
respectively, and that of these there were
"subsequently specially prepared " twenty-
two and eighteen respectively. Whether
the final year, which Mr. Reich seems to
indicate, is really the causa camans of suc-
cess or not, each will judge for himself. It
would have been unfair in me to mark

! out Mr. Wren's establishment when others
— perhaps quite as worthy, though less
\axge — were not named. And would not
Mr. Wren have been more gracefully

I championed by one of those who owed
success to him than by one of his able
assistants ? — Yours faithfully.

The Wbitee of the Article.
Jan. 22, 1898.

Sir, — In your last week's number you
published a letter containing the astounding
statement that while a certain proportion
of those who pass for the Indian Civil
j are " educated at Oxford, a certain other
proportion — I forget the figures — are
"educated" by Mr. Wren. Mr. Wren is,
I believe, an extremely able man, and I
am inclined to think that he would never
advance so preposterous a claim. Mr.
Wren makes no pretence of " educating "
anybody. It is not his mitier. He teaches
people to pass examinations. The two
functions are quite distinct, and "educated"
people do not confound them. — Yours
faithfully,

St. John E. C. Hankin.

Jan. 21,1898.

"MACCHAILEAN MOHR."

Sib, — I am not a reader of Longman^ s, and
do not know the precise connexion in which
the expression occurs ; but " Macchailean
Mohr " is a correction of " The MaccaUum
More," which you probably met with in
Scottish history. " Macchailean Mohr "
means the Gtreat Son of Colin — apparently
a family name of the house of Argyll.
Mr. Lang, of course, was referring to the
Ihike of Argyll, for whom a place was
claimed in the list of Academicians. — Yours
very truly, Hector Macatthw.

Beowsa Church, Stornoway, N.B. :
Jan. 20, 1898.

BACCHYLIDES.

Sib, — Your reviewer (January 15) on Mr.
Kenyon's Bacchyiides, says airily, " None
of the Bii Majores have yet appeared.
Some day we may be electrified by the
announcement of a volume of Sappho's
lyrics, or a play of Menander." Short of
I being "electrified," since he is a lover of
iMenandor, he. may be glad to know six
fragments of the Georgics, one of the most

celebrated of the plays of Menander, have
been discovered, and may be read in the
edition just published of M. Jules Nicole. —
I am yours, &c.. Lane E. Harrison.

Sesame Club, 28, Dover-street :
Jan. 20, 1898.

[Owing to pressure upon our space, we
have been obliged to hold over corres-
pondence on "A Benedictine Martyr in
England" and Prof. Ratzel's History of
Mankind tiU next week.]

BOOK REVIEWS REVIEWED.

"The Bab ^^^ collected edition of The

Ballads and Bob Ballads, to which is added

w? s^^GiibS. a selection of the songs and

ballads in Mr. Gilbert's operas,

has been widely noticed. The Times' critic

somewhat discounts the "raptures" of a

recent Quarterly Reviewer who hailed Mr.

Gilbert as a considerable poet. But he

admits that readers of this volume

" will find wit and fun in plenty ; endless
amusement if they are gifted with the sense
of humour themselves ; many charming songs,
so liltingly written that they seem to set
themselves to music as one reads them — in
short, they will find all the qualities that have
won Mr. Gilbert's popularity, and made many
of his phrases and topsy-turvyisms household
words."

The Daily News' critic considers Mr.
Gilbert simply as a fanciful and brilliant
humorist. He writes :

" Mr. Gilbert has been said to base his
humoin: upon a sort of ' topsy-turveydom ' in
morals and social practices. Topsy-turveydom
is, indeed, the direct subject of ' My Dream ' ;
it flourishes again in that delicious piece of
nonsense, ' The Periwinkle Girl ' and her aristo-
cratic lovers ; and is traceable in ' Blue Blood,'
from lolanthe, which imagines a state of
existence wherein a title and a vast rent-
roll are positive bars to success in love. It
would, on the other hand, be a great mistake
to say that the fun of the ' Bab Ballads '
depends wholly, or even for the most part, on
the trick of reversing social conditions. It lies
more often in satire of the sort which is found
lurking in the Judge's song, and the Usher's
charge in Trial by Jury in ' They'll none of
them be missed,' from The Mikado and in the
'Darned Mounseer' — ^the latter an obvious
satire upon popular British Chauvinism, though
from Isome unaccountable perversity of inter-
pretation it greatly wounded the susoeptibiUties
of the Paris Figaro."

The Westminster Gazette, referring to our
recent suggested list of forty names for an
" Academy of Letters," writes :

"In a recent symposium concerning the
writers who would form a British Academy of
Letters, if such an institution existed, someone
had the good sense to suggest that Mr. W. S.
Gilbert should be among the number. _ ' "What !
include a comic writer ? ' cried certain serious
persons, who straightway proposed instead the
names of certain inconspicuous solemnities.
We are not ourselves enamoured of academics
in any form ; but if forty representative
English writew have to be selected for any
purpose whatever, dare anyone say that Mr.
Gilbert ought not to be among them ? "

" studiea in ^^- Whibley's onslaught on

Fraoknesa." Puritanism in literature has

whibiey!' pleased some critics immensely.

The Ball Mall Gazette heads its

review " Free, Frank, and Fearless," and

the reviewer writes in a vein of sympathetic

irony :

" So great is his zeal, indeed, that he inclines
us to the uncomfortable suspicion that no man
can project a masterpiece till he stands, Marius-
like, amid the ruins of the Decalogue, and that
to rob a tUl is but the first step to literary
greatness. Mr. Whibley's open and wanton
delight in the artistry of crime was manifest to
all whose fortune it was to read his Book of
Scoundrels, and so here his sympathy with
needy rapscallions in whom is developed the
artistic sense, and with nondescript villains who
point their peccadillos and adorn their crimes
with tags of Horace and quotations from the
classics, flashes along every line of his brilliant
and masterly essay on Petronius. In fact, so
insistent and so dominant are these sympathies,
and — a plague on him ! - so well does he write,
that we would hesitate ere we entrusted him
with our purse or even our life, though we will
do him the justice of admitting that the con-
veying would be effected with distinction and
the killing consummated with style."

The Chronicle also packs its review into
the title thereof : " Unfrank Studies in
Frankness."

"Though," it says, "we find ourselves now
and again revolting from Mr. Whibley's judg-
ments, yet there can be no dispute that the
body of the book is a serious and learned
contribution to letters. All the more do we
regret that he should have sought to commend
his solid wares by a claptrap title and a per-
versely paradoxical preface. . . . The preface
deals mainly with those trite subjects which
are dear to the heaii; of the Oxford examiner —
art for art's sake, genius is a law to itself, the
good writer must be a good man. Over this
familiar ground we are not minded to follow
Mr. Whibley ; but, not content with re-asserting
the liberty of prophesying, he-tries to carry the
war into the enemy's country. Not content
with the claim that for the artist no fig-leaves
exist, he would make it a note of genius to
have stripped off the fig - leaves of conven-
tionahty, and laid bare the nakedness of nature.
. . . Mr. Whibley insists on our admiring the
great satiiists, playwrights, and romancers,
because of their least comely parts, though,
when he comes to details, he is, as we have
said, very careful to keep these parts out of
sight. This is, as his favourite Aristotle
would put it, to defend a hypothesis with a
vengeance."

The Speaker is genial and mildly critical.

Of the essays it says :

"All are good, but we like the last best.
Nothing, indeed, could well be happier than its
tone and temper throughout, yet the subject,
being a whimsical one, is hard to treat. Mr.
Whibley dubs Sir Thomas Urquhart of Cro-
marty, the translator of the earlier parts of
Rabelais, and the author of at least two of the
most astounding books in the world, the ' most
fantastic of Scotsmen.' Now, how fantastical
Scotsmen can be, have been, and are, it is given
to few authoritatively to pronounce ; but that
Sir Thomas was the most fantastical Scot who
ever put his fantasy into print is a proposition
easy to defend."

136 THE ACADEMY. [j^. 29, i898.

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[Feb. 5, 1898

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140

THE ACADEMY.

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Feb. 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

141

CONTENTS.

|R«tiewb: Pao»

D'Annanzio in English 141

' Clarence Mangau 142

I The Black Monks 143

I Chanffe in Coren 144

, The Philistine Abroad 145

I Lay Sermons 148

I American Traits 146

; Neat Paraphrases 147

I A View of Do Quinoey 147

IBeiefer Mestioit 148

lACiDEMT SnFPI.EM«rT 149—162

INoTEB Airn News 153

Ithe Pobtby of Mr. Robert Beidges 155

What the PEori.E Bead: IX., As Aetibt 166

Ipabis Letter 157

The Week 158

} New Books Kecoived loO

The Booi Mareet 159

CoBRESPOKDEIfCE 160

nooK Reviews Reviewed 162

REVIEWS.

D'ANNUNZIO IN ENGLISH.

The Triumph of Death. Translated from
the Italian of Gabriele D'Annunzio by
(reorgina Harding. (London : Heine-
mann.)

iX is three years since D'Annunzio's
Triumph of Death was translated in
;hat most orthodox of French organs, the
Revue des Deux. Monies, and now a London
-lublisher of courage, Mr. Heinemann, has
jiven us an English version. Three years
dnce the most spiritual of French critics,
\\.. de Vogiie, master of a great prose style,
ailed D'Annunzio as the leader of a coming
Latin Renaissance : three years, and how
lid the modest welcome of the Anglo-Saxon
vorld take shape? It has been sym-
bolised by the prosecution of D'Annunzio's
iVmerlcan publisher on the ground of circu-
ating immoral literature — an unsuccessful
prosecution, instigated by Mr. Anthony Com-
itock, of New York, whose trade is virtue
jind whose eye is hungry for wickedness
a books. And now The Triumph of Death
ies before us Englished — very much so.
I Amusing it is to note the condition in
Iphich poor D'Annunzio reaches English
liand.s. The Italian master comes to us
irith a European reputation for poetry, for
'tyle, for voluptuousness, for occasional
I'rutal indelicacy. Well, he roaches the
lager public's timorous hands mn» style,
ym naughtiness, mrw poetry. It is all there
-the rest — all, except the essence, the spirit.
I . HeroUe, in his graceful French trans-
^ition, failed often at D'Annunzio's poetiy
if nature, but he always kept a breath of
loetry in the voluptuous passages he essayed.
iliss Harding has sacriticed both poetry
ind voluptuousness. It is a safe translation :
l)'Annunzio is thoroughly Britiiniiicised, and
ue English Mr. Comstocks and the English
joets will alike be disappointed. And the
psidt is most intensely interesting to the
fitic.
AVe say the result is interesting because
brings out most strongly tlie opposition
otween the Anglo-Saxon and the Latin
lorlds. The whole question is one of beauty.

D'Annunzio's great power lies in an intense
appreciation of the beautiful in nature, art,
and life, and in his ability to analyse his
very subtle sensations and re-create a
beautiful world by the most delicate verbal
images, by language rich in cadence, warm-
coloured and glowing with life. He is, above
all things, the poet of the senses, and he
will probably live in Italian literature for
the qualities by virtue of which Keats and
Mr. Swinburne have taken their place in
English literature. Obviously, then, if
D'Annunzio is to be translated, an indis-
pensable qualification of his translator
should be a fine sense of style. We cannot
blame the English translator, her task was
one beyond her powers. There can be no
doubt that she has failed, for her version
never brings with it a sense of poetry. The
innumerable descriptions of nature which
abound in The Triumph of Death, as
EngUshed, show that insistent touch of
commonplaceness which annihilates beauty
altogether. A fine sense of style is lacking
in every page, every paragraph, every line ;
and so D'Annunzio's essence is destroyed.
Let us take the following passage, which
Ouida has translated {Fortnightly Revieio,
March, 1897), and compare it with Miss
Harding's version :

Ouida : " A rock of tufa hanging above a
melancholy valley ; a city so silent that it seems
empty : the windows are closed, in the grey
lanes grass grows ; a Capuchin crosses a square ;
a bishop descends from a closed carriage before
the gate of a hospital ; a tower rises in a white
and rainy sky ; a clock strikes the hour slowly ;
all at once at the end of the street a miracle in
stone — the Cathedral."

Miss Harding: " A. rock in the middle of a
melancholy valley, and on the top of the rock
a city, so deathly silent as to give the im-
pression of being uninhabited — every window
closed — grass growing in the dusty grey streets
— a Capuchin friar crosses the piazza — a priest
descends from a closed carriage in front of an
hospital, all in black, and with a decrepitold
servant to open the door ; here a tower against
the white rain- sodden clouds — there a clock,
slowly striking the hour, and suddenly at the
end of a street a miracle — the Duomo ! "

It is a translator's minute touches that
show whether he has or has not style. In
the first version the picture is seen, in the
second it is not. Miss Harding's translation
may be more close to the original, but it
is false to the spirit of poetry. A trifling
difference which, repeated everywhere,
darkens D'Annunzio's world thereby, as
with a pane of opaque glass ! But, further,
this muddying the colour and blurring the
form of D'Annunzio's creation is, we think,
curiously symbolical of the average Anglo-
Saxon's attitude towards art. In certain
passages of the novel where an Anglo-
Saxon would see "immorality," "sensu-
ality," a Latin would see beauty — of a
kind. And why ? Because the artist's
intensity of sensation carries along with it
an PRsthetic current of joy, which physi-
ologically is a vindication of the feeling,
and therefore his delight in the senses is
a law of his being, a morality to himself.
But the Puritan, who is not so affected by
pleasure, has not this inner law of joy in his
sensations, even when they are more delicate,
and therefore his moral judgments on art

often prove that he is affected by a nun-
beautiful sequence of sensations. And so
the opaque translation before us is, in
reality, typical of that Anglo-Saxon judg-
ment which, having annihilated beauty by
not seeing joyously the form of its ideas
or emotions, pronounces a solemn judgment
— in fact, on itself !

We do not, of course, deny that D'An-
nunzio oversteps here and there the line
of good taste in art, or that at times, in
a brutal mood, he passes into indecency.
And we do not deny that certain passages
cannot be put in English, and that other
of his scenes would try the skill of a master
of English, and thereby be to him a triumph.
But, seriously, we do affirm that the
Italian's world is primarily one of beauty,
though at times he comes near ugli-
ness; and that on the translator's fine
perception of style depends whether
D'Annunzio's world shall be seen or not.
We say, at times D'Annunzio's work passes
into ugliness, and it is precisely on the
point — how far has he shown great sesthetic
power in constructing his peculiar world of
beauty, decadent passion and dilettanteism ?
— that his rank in literature depends.
What is his world ? It is the word-tapestry
of a poet's weaving — a poet whose musical
cadences and delicate analysis of subtle
emotions seem to float over and around a
world of nature's beauty, a world brutal
with appetite, with ugly fact and morbid
impulse. D'Annunzio's world is a bizarre
fusing of many conflicting influences —
Pagan, Christian, scientific — interacting on
his delicate temperament, weary of so much
richness. And thus the critical question
to ask is, has not he assimilated too much ?
It is his quality to assimilate everything,
and thus in a single novel, side by side
with a pagan joy in voluptuousness, comes
a scientific analysis of the melancholy strife
between flesh and spirit; and the triumph
of the animal in man over his higher nature
is mourned by the Christian in him, studied
d la Husse, and conveyed in musical prose of
poetic beauty ! For ourselves we think
that his Bosthetic sense has been rather
squandered over boudoir scenes and "hig
lif," and that unless he purifies it of dilet-
tanteism and bends it to a higher creative
ideal — as perhaps he has done in his latest
romance, Le Vergini delle Rocee — his great
gift as a poet will scarcely redeem
his strangeness to future ages. Which
triumphs, the decadent or the poet ?

The question of D'Annunzio's attitude
towards what is ugly in life, as we have
said, determines his rank, Dostoievski is
greatest as an artist when his world, the
world of Crime and Punishment, is wholly
morbid. But D'Annunzio has a certain air
of aesthetic affectation at times, which con-
trasts badly with the Russian's intensity of
purpose. Both VInnocente (Z'Intrus) and
// Piacere {V Enfant de Volupte) set forth the
struggle of a man's higher and lower nature,
a man who cannot shake off corrupting in-
fluences, and thereby loses his world of pure
delight. Many scenes in L'£njant de P'olupf':
are painted with a warmth of colour that
woukl disquiet St. Anthony, but the contrast
between the heroines — the spiritual MHrieanil
the sensual Hiilune-^is rendcied »«iili »o-ii.i

142

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

delicacy of moral feeUng. D'Annunzio's
hero, it may be remarked, is the Modem
Youth, standing not between virtue and
pleasure, but between pleasure and pleasure
plus virtue, who in trying to grasp everything
loses his mistress, his soul, his life. As
the hero, Andre, loses both mistresses in
L' Enfant de Volupti, the novel, indeed, may
be said to have a moral tendency ! L'Intrus
is a graver and more sombre work. It
shows Russian influence, and is an able
study of a man's senseless, inevitable in-
fidelity. The exquisite portrait of the wife,
Juliane, is certainly from the hand of a true
artist. Les Vierges aux Eoelwrs is a most
dreamy piece of symbolistic poetry. We
think D'Annunzio here touches his highest
point. Here is no bizarre mixture of many
influences which cannot go deep enough to
create a sense of an organic, artistic whole,
but, on the contrary, the artist's pure
impulse towards beauty gives the romance
a sense of strength and unity.

We have, we think, said enough to show
that to ceJl D'Annunzio "immoral" is
worthy only of Mr. Comstock. If the
English reader finds D'Annunzio's men too
effeminate, affected, or corrupt for his taste,
let him be thankful for the Italian's pictures
— most exquisitely wrought — which go so
far to establish the Anglo-Saxon in his own
estimation, and enlarge his conception of
life. Nothing, indeed, is more striking than
the ingratitude with which our nationality
resents the introduction to it of foreign
worlds which do not echo our own limited
tastes, business standards, moral ideas. If
we are insensible to the beauty of
D'Annunzio's world, it can only be because
we hold art too low. And that is, perhaps,
the reason why Mr. Heinemann and Miss
Harding between them have presented The
2i-iumph of Death to English eyes through
a sheet of smoked glass.

CLAEENCE MANGAN.

The Life and Writings of James Clarence
Mangan. By D. J. O'Donoghue. (Edin-
burgh : Patrick Geddes & Colleagues.)

TnK g^-eatest Irish poet who has ever sung
in English died half a century ago, and has
at last found his first and final chronicler.
Famous men, such as Mitchel and Sir Charles
Gavan Duffy, have given us glimpses of
him, and others less distinguished have done
their parts, but Mr. O'Donoghue's work is
the first to aim at completeness ; and it is
final because there is little or no hope of
recovering from the obscure past anything
of value concerning Mangan that has
escaped the researches of Mr. O'Donoghue.
For, as Irish men of letters know well, Mr.
O'Donoghue's gift of investigation, his
instinct in inquiry, his talent for amassing
and remembering fa;cts, amount to something
very like genius ; and when, as emphatically
here, his labours are of love, when patriot-
ism and compassion add their ardour to his
spirit of research, we may be very sure that
his work is as complete as sad circumstances
allow Mangan's biography to be. Mr.
O'Donoghue tells his story with oxceUeut

sympathy, and at the same time with
sobriety ; and thus, though it is his industry
that we most admire, we are by no means
without admiration for his art. Mangan
would be the last person to appreciate the
accuracy and the industry, but he would —
perhaps does — feel grateful for the sympathy
and the skill .

No one can thoroughly realise Mangan's
life without some knowledge of Dublin ; not
knowledge of Ireland at large, for Mangan
had practically none, save by reading ; but
knowledge of that Dublin " dear and dirty,"
splendid and squalid, fascinating and repul-
sive, which was Mangan's from the cradle
to the grave. There is there an unique
piteousness of poverty and decay, a stricken
and helpless look, which seem appropriate
to the scene of the doomed poet's life. It
was a life of dreams and misery and mad-
ness, yet of a self-pity which does not
disgust us, and of a weakness which is
innocent; it seems the haunted, enchanted
life of one drifting through his days in a
dream of other days and other worlds,
golden and immortal. He wanders about
the rotting alleys and foul streets, a wasted
ghost, with the "Dark Rosaleen" on his
lips, and a strange light in those mystical blue
eyes, which burn for us yet in the reminis-
cences of all who ever saw him and wrote of
the unforgettable sight. And, with all his
remoteness, all his wretchedness, there was
a certain grimly pathetic and humorous
common-sense about him, which saved him
from being too angelic a drunkard, too
ethereal a vagabond, too saintly a wastrel.
Hard as it is to believe at aU times, he was
an intelligible, an explicable human being,
and not some " twy-natured" thing, some
city faun. All the accounts and descriptions
of him, collected so indefatigably and quoted
so aptly by Mr. O'Donoghue, show us a man
whom external circumstances, however pros-
perous and bright, would not have prevailed
upon to be as other men are. As has been
said of other poets, " he hungered for better
bread than can be made of wheat," and
would have contrived to lose his way, to be
"homesick for eternity," despite all earthly
surroundings of happiness and ease. Sen-
sitive in the extreme, he shrank back into
the shadows at a breath, not merely of
unkindness, but of unpleasantness ; he
shuddered and winced, blanched and
withered away, at a touch of the east wind.
His miseries, which dictated to him that
agonised poem, " The Nameless One," were
primarily of his own creation, realities of
his own imagination, and, therefore, the
more terrible ; they were the agonies of
a child in the dark, quivering for fear of
that nothing which is to him so infinitely
real and dread a " something." For
Mangan's childhood, boyhood, first youth,
though hard and harsh, were not unbearably
so ; many a poet has borne far worse, and
survived it unscathed. A rough and stern,
ra,ther than cruel, father; office drudgery
with coarse companions; stinted, but not
insufficient means; a general absence of
congenial sympathy and friendship — these
are rude facts to face ; but even a poet, all
nerves and feeling, need not find life a heU
because of them, the world a prison, all
things an utter darkness of despair. And

even Mangan's failure in love, whatever be
the truth of that obscure event, would hardly
account, by its own intrinsic sadness, for his
abysmal melancholy and sense of doom.
Further, when we find him in true
deeps of actual woefuLness, the bondslave
of opium and alcohol, living in the degra-
dations of poverty, enchained, as St.
Augustine has it, sua ferrea voluntate, by the
iron chain of his unwUling will, yet it
is not his fall that haunts him, but that
sense of undeserved early torments and
tortures, enfolding him as with a black im-
penetraljle cloud. It was not only the lying
imaginativeness of the opium eater or of the
drunkard that made liim teU stories of
fearful things which never happened ; nor
was it merely his artistic instinct toward
presenting his life, not quite as it was, but
as it might have been, nor yet his elvish
turn for a little innocent deception. Beyond
a doubt, his temperament, immeasurably
delicate and sensitive, received from its early
experiences a shock, a shaking, which left
him tremulous, impotent, a leaf in the wind,
upon the water. His first sufferings in life
were but the child's imagined ghosts ; but
the " shock to the system," to his imagi-
native, sensitive temperament, was lasting,
and he lived in a penumbra of haunting
memories and apprehensions. In Browning's
words, it was :

" The glimmer of twihght,
Never glad confident morning again ! "

Life had struck him in his affections and
emotions : he could never recover from the
blow, could but magnify it in memory and
imagination, conceive himself marked by it,
go apart from the world to hide it, go astray
in the world to forget it. That was Mangan's
tragedy.

But he did not suffer it to cloud his poetry
with darkness of expression at any time,
nor, at its finest times, with darkness of
theme or thought. It forced him into
writing a deal of unworthy clever stuff,
and a deal of excellent work far below
his highest ability and achievement. But
not a faint shadow of unhappiness dims
the radiance of his " Dark Rosaleen," its
adoring, flashing, flying, laughing rapture
of patriotic passion. It is among the great
Ijrrics of the world, one of the fairest and
fiercest in its perfection of imagery and
rhythm ; it is the chivalry of a nation's
faith struck on a sudden into the immortality
of music. And Mangan's next glory, his
version of "O'Hussey's Ode to the Maguire,"
is no less perfect upon its lower, yet lofty,
plane. A certain Elizabethan poet has this
pleasing stanza upon the Irish of his day,
as he viewed them :

" The Irish are as civil, as
The Russies in their kind ;
Hard choice, which is the best of both,
Each bloodie, rude, and bHnd."'

The " Ode to the Maguire " gives the noble
side to the question, a ferocity that is
heroic, in lines of the largest Homeric
simplicity and greatness; and as the "Dark
Rosaleen " sings the devotion of a nation to
their country in oppression, so this chants
that of a follower to his chief in defeat;
but in neither is there the note of despair,
in both the note of glory. Other of Mangan's

Feb.

1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

143

poems upon Ireland, original or based upon
Gaelic originals, have a like lustrous quality:
he loved to lose himself in Ireland's past
I and future, and thereby made poems which
! will have helped to make the future Ireland.
I Upon such work as this he left no mark of
' his mental miseries and physical dishonours ;
! indeed, his poems, though often tragic with
'sorrow, or trivial with levity, or both at
once, are always pure and clear in every
sense ; in poetry, at least, he lived an
I innocent life. Beside his own Ireland there
were two chief worlds in which he loved to
wander : the moonlit forests of German
I poetry, often painfully full of " moonshine,"
and the glowing gardens or glittering deserts
of the Eastern, the " Saracenic " world. He
wished, half-whimsically and half -seriously,
to make his readers believe that he knew
some dozen languages ; certain it is that he
had a strong philological instinct, and
much of that aptitude for acquiring avast
[half-knowledge of many things not com-
imonly known, which he shares with the
;very similar, and dissimilar, Poe. But his
'"translations" from many tongues, even
jwhen, as in the case of German, he knew
'his originals well, were wont to be either
frank paraphrases or imitations, often to
his originals' advantage. Some of his
[work in this kind is admirable and of a
[cunning art — the work of a poet to whom
|rhythm and metre, with all technical
Idifficulties and allurements, are passionately
jinteresting ; yet we regret the time spent
(upon most of them, and lost to his own
ivirgin Muse. He seems to have felt that he
[Was content to earn the wages, upon which
he lived from hand to mouth, by such
secondary work, as though he despaired of
attempting, or preferred to keep in sacred
silence, his higher song. He has given us
Little of that. A selection from his poems
|:!an be bought for sixpence, and one could
[spare, may be, a hundred out of its 144
pages. But what remains is, in its marvellous
(moments of entire success, greater than
Imything that Ireland has yet produced in
English verse, from Goldsmith to Mr. Yeats.
We do not endeavour to summarise Mr.
jO'Donoghue's volume ; from Mangan's birth
|in 1803 to his painful and merciful death in
11849, if there be anything joyous or pleasant
|» record the reader forgets it in the woes
jind glooms that precede and follow. He
I'iiad true friends, he could talk with them
prUliantly, books were ever a solace and
[lelight to him ; little as he cared for fame,
[le knew that he deserved it, and he loved
pis art. His curious humour, chiefly at his
)wn expense, was sometimes more than a
Heinesque jesting, and shows him with
sudden phases or fits of good .spirits. But,
j'or the rest, his life is a record of phantasmal
lejections and cloudings of soul, as though he
vere rejected of God and abandoned of man.
'\t almost every page, a reader fresh to his
jiame and fame might expect the next to
l^ronicle a suicide's end, like those of
I!hatterton and Gerard de Nerval ; and we
ire grateful to Mr. O'Donoghue, that with
ill his passion for facts and for information,
iie has not striven to give us a "psycho-
logical study " in dipsomania or melancholia
i)r neurasthenia, in the "modem manner."
»Vhat ho has done is to preserve, and to

discover, all the essential facts that can be
ascertained about a great Irishman and agreat
poet, of whom no adequate account existed ;
and he has done it with entire success. Poor
Mangan is here with all his weakness and
woes, but gently, reverently touched. The
book is infinitely sad, but never abjectly or
repulsively so. Here is the foredoomed
dreamer, of fragile body and delicate soul,
the innocent victim of himself, about whom
we know much that is frail and pitiable,
nothing that is base and mean : the voice,
often tremidous in lamentation and broken
by weeping, from which rose and rang the
very glory and rapture of Irish song.

" Him grant a grave to, ye pitying noble.
Deep in your bosoms : there let him dwell !
He, too, had tears for aU souls in trouble
Here, and in Hell."

THE BLACK MONI{:S.

The English Black Monks of St. Benedict. By
the Rev. Ethelred Taunton. (Nimmo.)

In Tlie English Black Monks of St. Benedict
the Eeverend Ethelred Taunton, a secular
priest, offers us an enthusiastic — if some-
what desultory — survey of the order's
fortunes during the thirteen centuries of its
English history. Mr. Taunton's literary
style is circumdata carietate — full of sur-
prises ; he is not a good writer, but he is
saturated with his subject, and these peculi-
arities serve at least to obviate any incon-
venience that might have arisen from his
erratic use and neglect of quotation marks.

To the modern world, habituated to the
aggressive centralisation of the contemporary
Eoman Church, and particularly to the
methods of the Society of Jesus, the Bene-
dictine constitution seems astonishingly loose
and vague. The Jesuit order came into
existence primarily as a fighting force at a
moment when the fabric painfully uj)reared
upon the rock of Peter seemed to be tottering
to its fall, when whole nations were falling
away from their allegiance. The Society
had a soldier for its founder ; its disciplinary
bonds were devised to constitute it a great
corporate machine which, by a touch upon the
lever at Home, could be directed and reg^ated
with the nicety of a Nasmyth hammer. In
the churches, in the schools, at the univer-
sities, at the Court, the sons of St. Ignatius
were every moment under a straiter than
military discipline ; a discipline at the same
time elastic and adaptable, which left them
lightly equipped of ceremonial obligations
and free to exercise for the good of the
world the accomplishments which so many
of them had learned from its intercourse.
They were tried and trained men all of
them, to whom hope meant the restoration
of religious order, religious order the subju-
gation of the world afresh to the Holy See ;
and this work, none ever doubted, Providence
had raised up their order pre-eminently to
accomplish. But if the Society was an
ecclesiastical army ; the bl^ck monks were
a religious horde.

The primitive Benedictine made a three-
fold vow : of stability (that is, to remain
attached to his monastery), of conversion of

life, and of obedience to the abbot. Except
for a similarity in the general course of life
in the various monasteries, springing in part
from the identity of the vow prescribed, and
a certain association in offices of hospitality
and mutual charity (as in praying for each
other's dead), the monastery of St. Augustine
at Canterbury, for instance, had no closer
connexion with St. Alban's or Glastonbury
than has the Birmingham Oratory to-day
with the Oratory at Brompton. The process
of centralisation was begun by the Fourth
Coimcil of the Lateran, which decreed :

" In each province or kingdom let all the
abbots and priors of houses which are not
abbeys meet togcthar (saving episcopal rights)
every three years in some convenient monastery,
and there hold a chapter. . . . Whatever
is decided and is approved of by the four
presidents is to be held as binding upon all."

The English monks, in enforcing the
decree, followed the line which divided the
provinces of York and Canterbury. Later,
by the bull Benedictina (1334), the two
chapters were united. The internal dis-
cipline of the houses was further regulated
by the same document. For example, it was
ordained :

" One monk in twenty must be sent to the
Universities for higher studies, and he is to
have a fixed allowance. Superiors, under
penalties, have to seek advice as to whom they
send to the University. ... In monasteries
all priests are to celebrate [mass] at least twice
or thrice a week. Those who are not priests
confess at least once a week and communicate
once a month."

All legislation had for its end the spiritual
welfare of the various communities and of
the individual souls which constituted them.
The business of the monks was the direct
service of God by the divine office and by
the sacrifice of the mass. The day began at
Westminster Abbey, to take an example, at
2 a.m., with the matin office or night hours.
Three or four cowled brethren to every
gorgeous folio, whose pages twinkled with
its gilt under the shining of the rare candles
that dotted the range of stalls — picture it ! —
and fancy the rhythmic roll of the sombre
melodies that flooded the choir and over-
flowed into the darkness of nave and aisles.
Lauds — five psalms of praise, with hymn
and Benedictus — concluded the night office,
and the brethren trooped back in silence to
their pallets. At five the beU sounded for
the first of the day-hours, prime ; after
which the community assembled in the
chapter-house for confession of offences
against the rule of the house. The penance
was of a corporal kind. At six was cele-
brated the short chapter-mass of our Lady.
Till nine the monks studied in the cloister
under close supervision ; then came the
second day-hour, terce, followed by the
High Mass, the central act of the day.
Sext was sung at its close. Eleven was the
hour of the first meal, except upon fast
days, when it was postponed. The quality
of the food varied at different houses and
at different times. The quantity seems to
have been ample. The drink was cider or
ale, and wine was served upon feast-days,
at least in those houses which had vineyards
of their own either in this coitntry or, as
was often the case, in France.

144

tflfi ACADEMY.

[Feb. o, 18fe8.

, -,r..,^-^-»^

The cloister was tlie workshop. Here
some would be poring over folios, others
would be transcribing or illuminating or
embroidering. Each had his allotted place
and work. No voice disturbed the silence ;
necessary communications must be made by
signs. On Saturday the cloister was the
scene of the weekly washing of feet, and it
was here that, at intervals of ten days or so,
the brethren painfully shaved each other's
faces and heads.

To continue the horarium, none, the
last of the " little hours," was sung at
three. "Work was resumed, and continued
till six, when vespers were solemnly sung.
A collation, consisting of a manchet of
bread with a drink of beer ; compline ; and
by eight to bed in the common dortor,
which was sometimes open, sometimes
divided into cells or cubicles. Por recrea-
tion there was the "frayter,"or common-
room ; and Mr. Taunton gives a description
of the relaxation there enjoyed in the
following depressing terms :

" It was generally in the afternoons they met
here ; and merry and bright would it be ; lor in
that monastery [no monastery in particular]
was one Dom Edward, a merry wight, full of
jokes and stories mirthful [all this is Mr.
Taunton's mirthful imagination]. At times of
recreation he would amuse the brethren by
some droll conceit or merry quip; a certain
little gesture of his lent a point to his story, and
a twinkle of his eye betrayed the coming jest.
But withal, be it remembered, he was a grave
doctor, learned in divinity and much looked up
to ; for had he not been to Rome itself, on
business connected with the abbey, and seen its
wonders ; and had [he not] many tales to tell
of the monasteries he had visited and edified ? "
And so on.

Order, thrift, concentration of purpose,
have the promise of this life as well as of
that which is to come, and at their zenith
the great abbeys were among the most im-
portant institutions in the country.

" Their iniliience was felt not only in the
neighbourhood of each monastery — for great
landlords, such as the monks were, will always
have power — but also in Parhament. There
the abbots of the black monks alone out-
numbered even the bishops ; for no less than
twenty-eight of them sat as barons of the
lealm, to some eighteen bishops. And there
are respects in which they were more in touch
with the common feeling of the country than
pveu the bishops ; for . . . the abbot was, with
the exception of his attendance at Parliament,
almost always hving in the midst of the people."

Their growth had been gradual, their
fall was abrupt. Two years sufBced to
sweep away all those great institutes, and to
alienate the wealth which represented the
careful husbanding of centuries. But in
effect their work was done. The ancient
■Henedif-tine sjdrit must be left behind upon
ti;e riiri siiold of the modem world. In the

M " i. ii; representatives of the order a certain
pride of spiritual ancestry survives, it is
true ; Westminster and Eivaulx have their
legitimist pretenders ; but whatever influence
the nineteenth century Benedictine exercises
upon the contemporary world must be attri-
buted to qualities that are not the peculiar
fruit of the Benedictine training, or to
methods and an organisation learnt from
their great rivals who sprang up to meet
the needs of the sixteenth century.

CHANGE IN COREA.

Korea. By Mrs. Bishop (Isabella L. Bird).
2 vols. (John Murray.)

With the newspapers crammed with the
movements of European fleets in Chinese
waters, this comes as a very timely book.
Part of it is occupied with Mrs. Bishop's
visits to Corea — or as she prefers to write it,
Korea — before the war. This is the Korea
already made known to us by the Hon.
George Curzon's Prohlema of the East, and
Mr. Savage-Landor's Chosen. We here
read again of the glories of the Kur-
dong, or royal procession, of the fighting
Korean ponies, of the curious custom in
Korean cities of closing the streets at night
to all but women, and of the love of Korean
men for the top-knots and crinoline hats
with which they consider their national
existence to be in some way bound up. But
these matters, though accurately observed
and cleverly described by Mrs. Bishop, are
not new to us. The contrary is the case
with the kaleidoscopic changes in Korean
manners and customs which have followed
each other in quick succession since the out-
break of the war between China and Japan.
A new Korea has, in fact, arisen, of which
we have hitherto heard only by meagre
telegrams unintelligible to most English
newspaper readers, and it is this which
occupies most of Mrs. Bishop's two volumes.
Before the war Korea seems to have been
a China in little. Governed by a king who,
though absolute over his subjects, yet owned
the Emperor of China as his suzerain, and a
mandarin class who looked on the tiller of
the soil as a lemon to be squeezed, her
people displayed all the vices of the Chinese
without their industry and enterprise. But
in June, 1894, Japan, in pursuance of a
plan which, according to Mrs. Bishop, she
had been maturing for years, suddenly
landed troops at Chemulpo, assaulted the
capital, captured the king, and soon
after declared war against China. Then
followed the driving out of the Chinese
from the country and its subjugation by
the Japanese army, whose discipline and
behaviour towards the civilian population
are described by Mrs. Bishop as being
beyond praise. Inspired, as she thinks,
by our example in Egypt, the Japanese
set about governing Korea according to
Western ideas through the captured king,
who became a mere puppet in their hands.
On Mrs. Bishop's second visit, in 1895, she
found that the main roads had already
become safe for Europeans, all allegiance to
China had been solemnly renounced, a
paper constitution had been promidgated,
and the King and Queen had made such
progress in European manners that they
told Mrs. Bishop that "England is our best
friend." Then came the signature of peace
lietween China and Japan, and it seemed as
if Korea, with its twelve millions of in-
habitants, were going to be opened to the
civilising influence of English and American
missionaries, of Manchester cotton goods,
and of Birmingham hardware. But those who
thought so reckoned without their Oriental.
Six months later the Kun-ren-tai, or Japan-
pae-drilled native levies. rU-^hed the Palace,
murdered the Queen, and took prisoner the

King and the Crown Prince. All this took
place at the instigation of a newly appointed
Japanese Envoy, who was promptly recalled
and tried by his own government. The
Kun-ren-tai, however, remained in possession
of the Palace, and contrived to reign for
months in the King's name, pressing for-
ward reforms of different kinds with ap-
parently even greater vigour than the
Japanese. Increasing in audacity, they
at length went a step too far, and dared
to lay hands on the national top-knot.
The usurpers not only cropped the heads of
themselves and their royal prisoners, but
issued a decree ordering the Koreans to
lay aside their absurd hats and to cut
their hair. This proved to be more than
even Korean apathy could stand, and
revolts broke out all over the country,
while the King managed to escape to the
Russian Legation, where eighty marines and
one field-gun proved a sufficient defence.
The Kun-ren-tai were put down, and some
of the Queen's murderers brought to justice.
But the change in the game had thrown
the ball into Russian hands. To the
Russians Mrs. Bishop does ample justice,
and gives them much credit for the improve-
ment they have effected in the lot of the
Korean emigrants who have settled in
Russian Manchuria, and for their dis-
interested acquiescence in the appointment
of Dr. McLeavy Brown — whom they are
now said to be trying to remove — to the
control of Korean finance. But it is plain
from what she says that Russian influence
throughout the kingdom has everywhere
supplanted Japanese, and she thinks that
the Korean troops, whose Japanese drill-
instructors have been changed for Russian
ones, may prove of service in the struggle
which most Eastern travellers see impend-
ing between Russia and Japan. Meanwhile,
these changes seem to have worked nothing
but good to Korea. In the capital, stone
houses and brick-paved streets, along which
bicyclists scorch, have replaced the mud
huts, filthy lanes, and pack bulls described
by the English travellers of 1 894. Although
many of these reforms are the work of Dr.
McLeavy Brown, England does not seem in
any hurry to profit by them. Not a single
British trading ship was last year to be
seen in Korean waters, there were hardly
any British subjects in the three treaty
ports, and very few articles of British origin
imported into the country. The main cause
of this, according to Mrs. Bishop, is the
obstinacy of our manufacturers, who will
make no attempt to meet the conditions of
the native consumer. We fancy we have
heard similar complaints before.

Mrs. Bishop's book is fuUy equipped with
illustrations, maps, and appendices, giving
all useful particulars of the statistics and
trade of Korea. We wish we had space to
do justice to the determination and courage
with which her journeys were conducted
under circumstances calculated to appal the
strongest nerves. Besides suffering from a
broken arm caused by the upsetting of a
native cart, and from fever caught during
the floods in Manchuria, she had to sleep
night after night in the over-heated rooms,
only a few feet square, of filthy Korean inns,
swarminjf with vermin and rats, and foul

Feb. 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

145

(dth all manner of rottenness. That a
lelicately brought up Englishwoman should
brave such hardships in the cause of science
s a fact of which we should be proud, and
she has certainly not been over-rewarded by
;h6 Fellowship of the Eoyal Geographical
Society.

THE PHILISTINE ABROAD.

Little Journeys to the Somes of Famous Women.
(Putnam's Sons.)

*^o author's name is printed on the title-
lage of this book, but an advertisement at
ihe end states it to be the work of Mr.
jiUbert Hubbard. We propose to notice it
iiot for its merits, but as the specimen of
|iow books should not be made. Mr.
jiubbard is an American, volatile and
•outhful. He has neither reverence nor
lignity. He is a stranger alike to tlie
I'motions of surprise and of enthusiasm, main-
aining wherever he may be a dead level of
jnquisitiveness and receptivity, and describ-
ing his adventures, such as they are, in an
impertinent variety of journalese that main-
ains an equally dead level of commonplace,
ilnd this observer presumes to instruct his
eUow Americans concerning the homes and
aunts, temperament and work, of illustrious
romen : Christina Eossetti and Mary Lamb, i
'Irs. Browning and Charlotte Bronte, Jane
lusten and the Empress Josephine ! That
le shoidd do so in the columns of a news-
■aper in America would be reasonable
nough ; but that his glib "copy" shoidd
fterwards attain the distinction of publi-
ation in book foi'm in this country, that is

mistake.

Just now Mr. Mackenzie BeU's memoir
f Christina Eossetti is being read. Mr.
Ilubbard's Little Journey to Miss Eossetti's
(ome wiU therefore be as good a one as we
■in pick from the dozen to illustrate his
lethod.

He begins with some reflections upon
lat " sporadic stuff " genius. Then, after
ecording the births of the four children
£ the elder Eossetti, within a space of
iree years and ten months, Mr. Hubbard
iys:

' ' The mother of this quartette was a sturdy
ttle woman, with sparkling wit and rare good
■nse. She used to remark that her children
I'ere all of a size, and that it was no more
jouble to bring up four than one, a suggestion
lirowu in here gratis for the benefit of young
larried folks in the hope that they will mark

id inwardly digest. In point of well-ballasted,
Ill-round character, fit for earth or heaven,
one of the four Eossetti children was equal to
leir parents. They all seem to have had
erves outside of their clothes. Perhaps this
I as because they were brought up in London.
I city is no place for chudren — nor grown
pople either ; I often think birds and children
blong in the country. Paved streets, stone
Idewalks, smoke-begrimed houses, signs read-
ig ' Keep off the grass,' prying policemen,
lid zealous ash-box inspectors are insulting
kings to greet the gaze of the little immigrants
esh from God. Small wonder is it, as they
'•ow up, that they take to drink and drugs,
leking in these a respite from the rattle of
heels and the never-eudiug cramp of unkind

condition. But nature understands herself : the
second generation, city-bred, is impotent."

Follows a short dissertation on Bsodeker,
jaunty and brisk, and then a long one on
Bloomsbury lodging-houses, as evidence of
the parts played by environment in the
Evolution of a Soul, and by way of intro-
duction to Charlotte-street, the home of the
Eossettis for several years — a "location"
not far from Gower-street, says Mr. Hub-
bard. Then some talk with the present
landlady of Number 38, ending in the
engagement of a back room for seven-and-
sixpence a week. On learning that her guest
was an American, the landlady asked if he
knew the Mclntyres that lived in Michigan,
which Mr. Hubbard parried by asking if
she knew the Eossettis. " Oh, yes ; I know
Mr. "William and Miss Christina. They
came here together a year ago, and told me
they were bom here." The chronicle passes
next to Number 50, Charlotte-street, the
second home of the family.

" This is the place where Dante Gabriel and
a young man named Holman Hunt had a studio,
and where another young artist by the name of
William Morris came to visit them; and here
was born The Germ, that queer httle chipmunk
magazine in which first appeared ' Hand and
Soul' and ' The Blessed Damozel,' written by
Dinte Gabriel when eighteen, the same age at
which Bryant wrote Thanaptosis. WUham Bell
Scott used to come here too. Scott was a
great man in his day. He had no hair on his
head or face, not even eyebrows. Every foUicle
had grown aweary and quit. But Mr. Scott
was quite vain of the shape of his head, for
well he might be, since several choice sonnets
had been combed out of it."

Next, an amusing personal experience of
the last surviving member of the family,
Mr. William Michael Eossetti. Mr.^Hubbard
called upon him.

"He was most courteous and pohte. He
worships at the shrine of Whitman, Emerson,
and Thoreau, and regards America as the spot
from whence must come the world's intellectual
hope. ' Great thoughts, like beautiful flowers,
are produced by transplantation and the com-
mingling of many elements.' These are his
words, and the fact that the Rossetti genius is
the result of transplanting need not weigh in
the scale as 'gainst the truth of the remark.
Shortly after this call, at an Art Exhibition, I
again met William Michael Rossetti. I talked
with him some moments — long enough to
discover that he was not aware we had ever
met. This caused me to be rather less in love
with the Rossetti genius than I was before."

The five pages that foUow belong partly
to Dante Gabriel Eossetti, and partly to an
irrelevant photographer, a friend of the
author ; and at last Christina is reached.

" Christina had the faculty of seizing beauti-
ful moments, exalted feelings, sublime emo-
tioixs, and working them up into limpid song
that comes echoing to us as from across soft
seas. In all of her lines there is a half-sobbing
undertone — the sweet minor chord that is ever
present in the songs of the Choir Invisible,
whose music is the gladness as well as the
sadness of the world."

A brief return to Dante Gabriel Eossetti,
sick at Birchington-on-Sea, the date of his
death given wrongly by ten years, and the
Little Journey ends. Very properly does
Mr. Hubbard preface his book with the

caution: "No attempt has been made to
tell all about the subject — there is more can
be said ! " Yes, and less.

To the American who cares nothing for
Christina Eossetti's work and character Mr.
Hubbard's essay may be a readable and
congenial introduction ; but any one already
familiar with her poetry, and conscious of
her sensitive nature and love of secluded
and austere life, will resent Mr. Hubbard's
loud tourist-suit and bowler-hat methods.
Christina Eossetti is, of course, the extreme
case. One does not so much mind Mr.
Hubbard's jocularity when it is applied to
certain others, although it is only with an
effort that any intelligent person on this
side of the Atlantic can read him patiently.

LAY SEEMONS.

Practical Mhics. By Henry Sidgwick.
(Swan Sonnenschein.)

This is a book of a type which will probably
become increasingly frequent. It consists
principally of essays and addresses read
before one or other of the societies which
have sprung up of late years for " the pro-
motion of ethical culture " and the study of
ethical problems on a non-theological basis.
Many serious people have long ago given
up attending sermons, but they are none
the less desirous to act rightly, and anxious
to know what right conduct is. To this
knowledge such books as Prof. Sidgwick's
are important contributions. They are
indeed of the nature of lay sermons, dis-
quisitions on moot points of the practical
life by competent laymen, who have given
to ethical subjects deliberate and trained
consideration. Their aim is, of course, pri-
marily practical rather than speculative.
Prof. Sidgwick is the best known living
representative of the school of ethical doc-
trine known as Utilitarianism ; but here he
lays aside doctrine, and is unconcerned
with speculative controversy. As to the
fundamental basis of ethics, philosophers
will probably differ until Doomsday ; but
their differences do not prevent them,
or prevent mankind in general, from
arriving at a pretty harmonious conception
as to what kind of conduct is properly
to be called moral. It is with tlie nature
of that conception and the rules in which
it can be formulated, the principles of
right conduct, the media axiomata of ethics,
that Prof. Sidgwick has here to do.

The nature of Prof. Sidgwick's audience
gives him a certain advantage over the
ordinary writer of sermons. Conduct may
fall short of the moral standard either
because the agent does not know what is
right, or, knowing, does not will what is
right. The latter, one fears, is most usually
the case, and to removing this impediment
of will the energies of the pulpit are natur-
ally in the main directed. Professor Sidg-
wick, however, was entitled, at least in
courtesy, to assume that the will to act
rightly was already present in liis hearers.
Wh.j, else, should they take the trouble to
attend the meetings of an ethical society?
He was able, therefore, to dispense with

146

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

rhetoric directed to the will, and to devote
himself to the more congenial task of
exploring and discussing certain imperfec-
tions of moral knowledge, obscurities and
perplexities of the ethical consciousness.
For the harmonious conception of the nature
.of moral action of which we spoke is not, of
course, a complete one. There are questions,
upon the fringes of ethics, as to which the
most diverse views prevail, questions oven of
every-day conduct, as to which even the
most right-minded agent may well flounder
for want of proper guidance. It is to such
questions that Professor Sidgwick addresses
himself. Some of them are questions of
divided and conflicting duties, problems of
casuistry proper, others are rather ques-
tions which the always progressive moral
consciousness of humanity has not as yet
quite brought within its scope — as to which
it has not as yet declared and formulated
itseK.

For ourselves we may say that we have
found Professor Sidgwick' s discourses ex-
tremely helpful and extremely illuminating.
He has many of the qualities which go to
make a good moral teacher — a moral
teacher, we mean, as distinct from a moral
force. He is clear-headed, obviously very
much in earnest, yet not without humour,
and above all markedly judicious, almost
painfully careful to see aU round his subject
and to give every point of view its due
weight. We do not always agree with his
conclusions, but at least they are always
tenable ; and, whether we agree or not, his
lucid, temperate discussions are always an
admirable stimulus to thought. So much
for Prof. Sidgwick's general handling of his
book ; we have only space for a few remarks
as to the individual subjects dealt with.
The first two essays are introductory, setting
forth the objects of ethical societies, their
scope and possible value. The next two
deal with the ethics of war and arbitration,
and with the principle, more often acted
upon than avowed, that states, in their
dealings with each other, are exempt from
the ordinary laws of justice, veracity, and
good faith which are universally held to
govern the relations of individual man with
individual man. MachiaveUi is discussed,
but not Nietzsche, though one fancies that
Nietzsche's doctrine of "master-morality"
must have been in the writer's mind through-
out. With the sophism that a human being
is ethically responsible to the State of which
he forms a part, but not ethically responsible
to mankind in general. Prof. Sidgwick
makes short work :

" If everything is permitted in national
struggles for the sake of the nation, it will be
easy to think that everything is permitted in
party-struggles or class-struggles for the sake
of the party or class. The tendencies of modem
democracy are running strongly towards the
increase of corporate sentiments and the hiibits
of corporate action in industrial groups and
classes, and so towards dividing civilised
humanity by lines that cut across the linos
separating nations ; and history certainly does
not justify us in confidently expecting that
when the rules of private morality are no
longer held to apply to pubhc action, patriotism
will still keep class feeling and party feeUug
within the bounds required by national peace
and well-being. ... In mediseval Italy,

whereas in the twelfth century the chronicle
ran simply ' Parma fights Piacenza,' before the
end of the thirteenth it ran, ' Parma, with the
exiles from Piacenza, fights Piacenza.' "

Then come a pair of essays dealing with
the right and wrong of religious conformity
and clerical veracity, and Prof. Sidgwick rolls
over and confounds an incautious clerical con-
troversialist who seems to have coiinuitted
himself to the position that a clergyman is
justified in publicly and solemnly asserting
his belief in creeds which contain state-
ments that he holds to be false. To many
readers this will be the most interesting part
of the book, and it certainly affords the
most entertaining reading. We should not
care to have to measure swords with Prof.
Sidgwick. The last essay in the book, on
UnremonaMe Action, is perhaps psycho-
logical rather than practical in its character ;
but in the two which precede it, on Luxury
and The Pursuit of Culture, Prof. Sidgwick
approaches a subject which has wide and
far-reaching implications. We are bound
to say that some of his conclusions here
seem to us highly disputable. For instance :

" I think it may be said that the promotion
of culture, in one form or another, is more and
more coming to be recognised as the main
moral justification for the luxurious expenditure
of the rich."

Well, it aU depends on what you mean
by " culture," and of course there are excep-
tions. But we shoidd be inclined to say
that nine-tenths of the luxurious expenditure
of the rich has no relation to culture what-
ever, and that the other tenth is chiefly
devoted to thwarting it. We do not see
what other result the purchasing of bad
pictures, which you do not know to be bad,
or the binding of gorgeous books, which you
do not intend to read, can well have.
Surely culture has always flourished, and
will always flourish, in spite of, and not by
means of, the rich.

AMEEICAN TEAITS.

Transatlantic Traits. By the Hon. Martin
Morris. (Elliot Stock.)

This little volume, which consists of three
admirably written and thoughtful essays, of
which "At Sea" and "American Traits"
originally appeared in the Nineteenth Century
and the New Review respectively, shows a
shrewdness of observation and a depth of
feeling which are rare in books of travel,
even when they are written by ' ' eminent
hands." Mr. Morris throughout writes with
force and sincerity, and frequently with
singular power and charm. He has brought
to his task many excellent literary qualities,
besides unfaltering sincerity and a sympathy
for humanity untarnished by prejudice.
The essay on the people and institutions of
the United States compares to its advantage
with any recent work that has appeared,
and certainly deserves the attention of
Americans as much as M. Paul Bourget's
book, or the amusing volume which Messrs.
Scribner lately published, entitled Atmrica
and the Anwricam : From a French Faint of
View.

It may be questioned whether an imagi-
nary figure is conceivable incorporating the
peculiarities of a people so varied as the
inhabitants of the United States. The North
contradicts the South, while the West gives
the lie to both.

" Though American life presents a clear and
effective image to the mind, this is not so much
because of its striking^ess in any respect as on
account of its widespread monotony. The pic-
turesque does not catch the eye, but constant
repetition fixes the view."

This impression is one which the most
observant travellers in America have ex-
perienced. But in spite of the near kin-
ship and fundamental similarity existing
between the English people and the Ameri-
cans, yet, as Mr. Morris observes, the " two
countries are as different from each other as
' a woman with a past ' is from a young
lady of fifteen." In America

"your grandfather's bust looks nearly as old as
the Elgin marbles do here. ... In this broad,
flat, open country there are no interesting holes
or comers, or nooks or crannies ; there is little
that is picturesque or artistic. . . . No, this is
the land of the people, and of some inglorious
millionaires; of cities and citizens, of stores
aud offices, factories and institutions, trains
and trams, bells and wires ... in short, of
countless faces, facts and figures."

In other words, " the typical sights and
objects in America are eminently social and
economic."

"If," says Mr. Morris, " you have not a deep
and sincere faith in mankind as a race, and a
broad, democratic sympathy with all human
efforts and struggles, keep away from this vast
mob of undistinguished and indistinguishable
people. It is but a colourless crowd of barren
existence to the dilettante, a poisonous field of
clover to the cynic."

These reflections enable us to realise how
differently America impresses different
observers. The satirist and the philosopher
arrive at contradictory conclusions. No one
without a genuine love of humanity will
derive profit from these crude but vigorous
social and political conditions, some of which
are still in the experimental stage. "No
wonder the people ' guess ' most things,"
writes Mr. Morris; "the whole country is
one immense framework of guesses."

Mr. Morris is inclined to disparage the
boasted " culture" of American svomen. It
is conspicuous, he thinks, chiefly owing to
the absence of intellectual attainments in the
men.

"A lady who has read enough of Ruskinor
of Herbert Spencer to prate about them ignor-
antly seems a prodigy of learning to a man who
has never heard of them .... Conversation at
a party is often nothing but a lectiu-e from an
American girl."

The author of America and the Americans
is stUl more severe on her. He grew very
weary of the word " culture."

"I know," writes this pungent observer,
" men and women in France, in Russia, ui
Italy, who speak and read half a dozen lan-
guages, who know and have learnt much from
distinguished people all over the world, who
have gone through the hard continental and
university traioing, and who do not dream that
anyone thinks them of pre-eminent cidture.
But here, God bless you I these women who

Feb. 5, 189P.J

THE ACADEMY.

147

only just know how to write their notes of

invitation and their letters properly talk of

culture."

Well, we abuse the word a good deal in

England too.

On the subject of American journalism
these two writers are also in accord. Mr.
Morris describes even their best journals as a
daily libel on every body and thing.
Actions are never taken, simply because it
is impossible to indict a whole profession.
The Frenchman came to the conclusion that
the stranger arriving in New York, who
plunges suddenly into the newspapers, must
imagine that " the population consisted of
Thugs, fire-bugs, and bankrupts, who, for
some unaccountable reason, spent large sums
on advertising." But j^erhaps the finest
picture of the "American spirit" in words
is Mr. Eudyard Kipling's :

" Lo, imperturbable he rules,

Unkempt, disreputable, vast —
And, in the teeth of all the schools,
I — I shall save him at the last ! "

This is the impression the American appears
to have left on Mr. Morris, and in his
Transatlantic Traits he has conveyed it with
much force and admirable literary skill.

NEAT PAEAPHEA8ES.

Poems from Horace, Catullus, and Sappho,
and Other Pieces. By Edward George
Harman. (Dent.)

Mr. Harmax wields a graceful and facile
pen. His versions of Greek and Latin odes
are pleasing exercises in a moribund art ;
they are full of neatly turned phrases, and
witness to a considerable command of varied
metre. Of course, Mr. Harman simplified
his problem considerably by confining him-
self to paraphrase and not aiming at trans-
lation. He takes privilege to expand where
he will, and reject what he will. His
rendering of Horace's " Festo quid potius
die" may serve for an example :

" Neptune's Feast.

" What shall we do, my Lyde, say,
To celebrate this festal day ?
See, the suu wheels to his decline.
Haste, then, 'tis time to broach the wine,
Our oldest wine shall quit its rest,
For Neptune's feast demands the best.

Neptune, the green-haired nymphs among,
We'U praise in antiphonal song ;
Your lyre shall themes divide between
Latoua and the huntress Queen.

Then, in a song, we'll celebrate

The praise of her who keeps her state

At Cnidos and the Cyclades,

Which gleam afar across the seas ;

And ofttimes chooseth to repair

To Paphos' sweet pellucid air,

When through the blue is borne afar

By snow- white swans her glittering car.

And last, to Night we will rehearse
A holy, high and solemn verse."

|rhi8 is legitimate paraphrase, but we think
phat occasionally Mr. Harman carries his
license too far. Thus he writes :

' Here dwells the Sibyl, here
Broad shades and pleasant greens abound.
Here, led by patient husbandry,

A thousand riUs refresh the ground,
Where on the orchard's sunlit floor
Pomona sbtds her boimteous store."

All this, if you please, stands for the solitary
phrase, " uda mobilibus pomaria rivis."
Surely the paraphrast of Horace is not called
upon to paraphrase all Orelli's notes into the
bargain. As with expansions, so with re-
jections. Mr. Harman often leaves out so
much as to lose not merely the outlines, but
the character of his original. To turn the
" aures Capripedum Satyrorum acutas " into
" listening Satyrs tame " is surely to
blur the clearly visualised and thoroughly
Horatian image. With the deeper poetry
of Catullus and of Sappho Mr. Harman is,
we think, less successful than with Horace's
modish strain. But his " Vivamus, mea
Lesbia, atque amemus," although he has
somewhat wilfully altered the sense of the
opening lines, is, on the whole, good :

" Kiss me, my love, and yet again
Kiss me, that so the eager pain
Of severance we may forget ;
For when our little sun is set,
Though suns may set and rise again,
For us shall endless night remain.
Then kiss me, love, while yet we may ;
Let wisdom frown so we are gay ;
Kiss me, and from that honeyed store
Of kisses bring a hvmdred more —
A thousand kisses add to these,
And then a thousand more, nor cease
Till all the reckoning of our bliss
Is blotted out in kiss on kiss,
And envious wight may never see
The kisses tbou didst give to me."

Beside this let us put, for the sake of
comparison, the seventeenth century ren-
dering, also a paraphrase, of the opening of
the same ode by Thomas Campion :

" My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love ;
And though the sager sort our deeds reprove,
Let us not way them : heaven's great lampes

doe dive
Into their west, and strait again revive :
But soone as once set is our little light
Then must we sleepe one ever-during night."

We venture to give two other brief speci-
mens, by way of illustrating the variety of
Mr. Harman's muse. His " Persicos Odi"
is a rather happy parody :

Sir John to His Valet.

" I do not like your Jewish tastes,
I hate your furs and astrachan,
Melton and velvet's good enough,
Or was, to coat a gentleman.

You need not trouble to inquire

What is the latest sort of hat,
Chapman and Moore have got my size,

And yours, andean attend to that."

And we have been struck by the following,
which, though modelled upon the manner
of certain epigrams in the "Anthology,"
is not precisely a version of any one :

The Om) Guide.
{As a Greek might have written it.)

" Old Hans, who finds his day is done.

And that no more the heights he'll scale,
That walking now where others run.

His feet must linger in the vale.
His lantern, sachel, pic, and ropes

Has himg upon a votive wall,
And down the last descent he hopes

To find his way withqut a fall."

A VIEW OF DE QUINCEY.

The Opium-Eater and Essays hy Thomas
de Quincey. With an Introduction by
Eichard Le Gallienne. {Nineteenth Cen-
tury Classics : Ward, Lock & Co.)

The introduction to this pretty and conve-
nient reprint shows Mr. Le Gallienne at his
best. It is modest and sympathetic, and
has some felicities of expression. This, for
instance, is a good little bit of appreciation,
quite at the beginning.

" De Quincey is the ' soholar-gipsy ' of popular
mythology as Shelley and Byron make between
them the ideal poet. In that mythology the
poet goes for ever with wild hair and exposed
throat, and the scholar is conceived in appear-
ance as a sort of dreamy rag-and-bone man.
And truly the star that is the soul of man has
seldom chosen to shine in such a crazy little
dusty lantern of a body as that intrusted with
the genius of Thomas de Quircey. The soul
seems to have thrown on its mortal vesture as
carelessly as the quaint little body used hastily
to clothe itself with any odd garments that
chanced to be at hand."

Of course, Mr. Le Gallienne would not be
Mr. Le Gallienne if he did not irritate us
occasionally, and we are grateful that it is
not this time by any sentimentality or
vulgarity of temper, but only by the ohiter
dicta of his ignorance. There is certainly
something of irritation in the smile with
which we greet his statement that De Quincey
was "one of our greatest political econo-
mists " and his careless grouping of Sir
Thomas Browne along with Milton and
Jeremy Taylor as one of those whose "sudden
sentences and pages of impassioned prose "
were rather "the sparks from their daily
knife-grinding, than the work of the poet
consciously aiming at beauty for beauty's
sake." Surely Browne's style was as con-
scious and as deliberate as man's need be.
Mr. Le GaUienne's version of De Quincey's
retreat from Oxford is that his brilliant first
day's examination "was 'merely in Latin,'
and De Quincey was already weary of such
easy laurels. So instead of present-
ing himself for the Greek examination,
he quietly packed up his things the day
before, and left Oxford in disgust." The
usual account of the matter, and we
shoiild think the correct one, is, that De
Quincey did his paper work brilliantly, and
then, whether through pique or through
nervousness, failed to present himself for
the viva voce examination which took place
some days later.

We hope that Mr. Le Gallienne is
not responsible for the choice of essays
to accompany the Opium Eater in this
volume. The Letters to a Young Man are
well enough, and contain, in a bit of con-
troversy with Coleridge, one of the best
specimens of that humorous manner to
which Mr. Le Gallienne thinks that De
Quincey was too much given. But the
eighty pages of Notes from the Pocket-Book
of a Late Opium-Eater are really not par-
ticularly interesting bits of early nineteenth
century journalism. De Quincey's best
work is not of very great bulk, and if the
Suspiria, the Essay on Murder Considered as
one of the Fine Arts, and the three Essays on
Rlutoric, Style and Language had taken the
place of these Notes, we should have had it
nearly all between a single pair of covers.

148

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb.

1898.

BRIEFER MENTION.

John Bright. By C. A. Vince. "Victorian
Era Series." (Blackie & Son.)

THIS little book seems to us, in its
way, a remarkable siincess. It
is a model of what such a sketch should
be — sober, well-written, with the matter
well - ordered, and throughout a tone
of judicial care not unmixed with en-
thusiasm. To most men Bright must
appear as a great statesman " for the
moment," a man who was right on nearly
every practical question, but who was as
certainly untrustworthy and even wrong
whenever he passed to generalisation. He
came near rivalling Burke in his oratory ;
but it is hard to imagine two more radically
different types of mind. As a political
theorist Bright's place is very low. He
felt the immediate needs of the people, and
expressed them with extraordinary power ;
but let him once exalt a particular expedient
into a law of political philosophy and he
became narrow and unimportant. He did a
great work in his Free Trade campaign, but
we cannot accept his economic dogmatism as
final. His ijolicy on education was highly
valuable, but what of his view of the problem
in the abstract ? So, too, on the matter of
foreign policy. Most of the particular acts
which he condemned were no doubt worthy of
condemuation,but the princijiles which he laid
down to guide the country in her external rela-
tions would land any community in chaos. The
truth is, that he was a great man of affairs,
a great orator, but, as Mr. Vince well puts it,
" he served his own generation rather than
posterity."

To a review such as this the most important
aspect of Bright is as a great master of the
English tongue. The power of his speeches
has been universally acknowledged, but one
is apt to forget that as an epigrammatist
and phrase - maker he all but rivalled
Disraeli. Many have become so familiar
that men have forgotten their source.
" Foreign policy is simply a gigantic system
of outdoor relief for the aristocracy of
Great Britain " ; " Dissenters are expected
to manifest all the qualities spoken of in
the Epistle to the Corinthians—' to hope all
things, to believe all things, to endure all
things ' " ; " Disraeli's notes on the Bank of
Elegance " ; and the description of Disraeli
as the " mystery-man of politics" and "a
Voltaire who wrote history far better without
facts than with them," are a few examples.
He invented the phrases : " Cave of
Adullam," " Tory democrat," " fancy fran-
chises," though Disraeli's comment on the
last 18 equally effective. " Alliteration," he
said, " is a popular form of language among
savages. It is, I believe, the characteristic
of rude and barbarous poetry ; but it is not
an argument in legislation."

Northanger Ahhey and Persuasion. By Jane
Austen. (Macmillan & Co.)

The set of Jane Austen's novels which this
volume completes does not absolutely ex-
haust her writings, for the two fragments.
Lady Susan and The Watsons, are still copy-

right, having been first published as late as
1869 by Messrs. Bentley & Son. Mr^ Austin
Dobson has supplied scholarly introductions
to Messrs. MacmiUans' all but complete
edition. In closing his labours Mr. Dobson
gracefully corrects an error in his editing ;
and since the facts are interesting we quote
his statement :

" In a note to the ' Introduction ' to Mansfield
Park the present writer announced that the
first review of Miss Austen in the Quarterly was
written by Sir Walter Scott, and in making this
announcement he was under the impression that
he was making it for the first time. Certainly,
the fact was not known to Mr. Austen-Leigh,
who, speaking gratefully elsewhere of Sir
Walter's later pra'ses of his aunt's work, finds
fault with this particular article as inferior to
Whately's. Nor does it seem to have been
known to Miss Austen's most accomplished
biographer. Prof. Goldwin Smith, who, after
quoting Scott's commendations from the Diary,
goes on to say that the Quarterly reviewed
her in 1815, ' very poorly and in a doubtful
strain.' Yet the information so obligingly
afforded by Mr. John Murray was all the
while lying jm-dii in a note to chap. Iv.
of Lockhart's Life of Scott. After explain-
ing that he had been misled into ascribing
Dr. Whitely's article to bis f4ther-in-law,
Lockhart adds : ' The article which Scott did
contribute to the Quarterly on the novels of
Miss Austen was that which the reader will
find in No. XXVII. [for October, 1815]. Emma
and Northanger Ahhey, in particular, were great
favourites of his, and he often read chapters of
them to his evening circle.' If this note escaped
Mr. Austen-Leigh, he unwittingly confirms its
last words, for he expressly refers to his per-
sonal knowledge of the well-worn condition of
Sir Walter's own copy of Miss Austen's novels
at Abbotsford."

With the exception of Pride and Prejudice,
which Mr. C. E. Brock illustrated, aU the
novels in this edition have been embellished
with pen pictures by Mr. Hugh Thomson.
We adhere to an opinion we have expressed
that Jane Austen's stories are too true and
vivid on the literary plane to need, or to be
in a position to gain b}', illustrations. We
turn with a languid curiosity to Mr. Thom-
son's presentments of Anne Elliot — to our
mind the most perfect of Jane Austen's
creations — and we fuid a pretty drawing of
a pretty woman wliich does not satisfy us.
Of course it does not. For us Anne EUiot
is a real person, and we should be dissatisfied
with her likeness in a photograph.

A Bihliography of British Municipal History.
By Charles Gross, Ph.D. (Longmans.)

Mk. Fbedekic Hareisox, if we mistake not,
initiated, some two or three years ago, a
great scheme for a general bibliography of
English history. The project is one for all
good wishes, but the book now before us may
serve as a warning of its magnitude and
difficulty. Prof. Gross occupies 461 pages
and indexes 3,092 books, yet he only covers
an infinitesimal portion of the total field.
Thus he defines his own scope :

"This Bibliography comprises books, pam-
phlets, magazine articles, and papers of learned
societies, relating wholly or in part to British
municipal history; in other words, to the
governmental or constitutional history of
the boroughi of Great Britam, including
gilds and parliamentary representation. Town
histories which do nbt deal with any of these

topics, purely topographical work*, and parish
histories are omitted."

Prof. Gross is already favourably known
to students of municipal history by his im-
portant monograph on The Gild-Merchant,
and his present work does not belie his
reputation ; so far as we have been able to
test it, it is carried out with the utmost
industry, learning, and judgment. The
first third of it is devoted to general books
bearing upon municipal history, and these
are classified under sub-headings ; the
second two-thirds contains the literature of
individual boroughs arranged in alphabetical
order. Here, again, sub-classification is
resorted to when convenient. Thus, for
London, Prof. Gross selects 309 books as
worthy of mention, and puts them under
the following eleven heads — Bibliographies,
TownEecords, Chronicles, General Histories,
Mediseval London, Charters, Laws iind
Privileges, Courts and Offices, Gilds and
Companies, Municipal Reform, London
County Council, and Miscellaneous. Nor has
Prof. Gross contented himself with draw-
ing up a mere catalogue : lie has turned it
into a catalogue raisoti^ie by appending to
at least half his entries brief notes setting
forth the nature of the book dealt with,
estimating its value, and referring to im-
portant documents printed in it. Thus he
earns our gratitude, and, we trust, estab-
lishes a precedent for Mr. Frederic Harri-
son's bibliographers of the future. The
work is issued as a volume of the Harvard
Historical Studies, and it reflects credit on
Harvard.

Shakespeare's " Merchant of Venice." Edited
by A. W. Verity, M.A". (Pitt Press.)

Mr. Verity's work in this edition is as
careful and judicious as ever. The amoimt
of space devoted to notes and introductory
matter appears to be greater than in some
earlier volumes of the series, and, on the
whole, considering that it is only advanced
students who could be trusted with such
an edition at all, the change is an im-
provement. Two or three suggestions on in-
dividual points of treatment may perhaps be
of service to Mr. Verity. More stress should,
perhaps, have been laid on the alteration in
ethical sentiment, which makes the root idea
of so delightful a play inevitably appear
artificial to modem readers. Shakespeare,
of course, meant his Jew to be an obvious
villain, and Shakespeare's audience took him
so ; our sympathies, on the other hand, are
almost necessarily drawn to Shylock's side.
In discussing Shakespeare's " local colour,"
Mr. Verity, following Elze, rather pooh-
poohs the notion that the poet can have
been in Italy ; but he does not refer to the
more recent treatment of the question by
Herr Sarrazia, which seems to us to tlirow
the balance of probabilities the other way.
Finally, SUvayn's Orator was, as Mr. A'erity
says, translated in 1.596 ; but some, at least,
of its contents seem to have had their
English dress at an earlier date in Edward
Aggas's Certain Tragical Cases (1590) and
Munday's The Defence of Contraries (1593).
These are, we repeat, suggestions rather
than criticisms, and not intended to detract
from our praise of Mr. Verity's admirable
edition.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.
The Tragedy of the " Korosko." By A. Conan Doyle.

The Korosko is a Nile steamer ; and we are straightway intro-
duced to its passengers. The capture of the whole party by the
dervishes, while ashore, is the beginning of adventures. These are
entertaining and unpleasant by turns, and finally rescue comes
from the Camel Corps. In the desert love and heroism get their
chances ; and when the principal characters sum up their
experience, they all find that they have learned something. " It is
my firm belief," says Mr. Belmont. " that there was not one of us
who did not rise to a greater height during those days in the desert
than over before or since. When our sins come to be weighed,
much may be forgiven us for the sake of those unselfish days."
A thoroughly breezy, amusing, and wholesome story. (Smith,
Elder & Co. 333 pp. 6s.)

EouGH Justice. By M. E. Braddok.

Miss Braddon has the secret of perpetual vigour, perpetual
enthusiasm. Here is a new novel from her pen— her fifty-some-
thingth, we beHeve — and it is as well conceived and well handled
as ever. The hero is a Cambridge man — a fine follow, but down
on his luck — who is tried on a murder charge and acquitted,
although not without a stain. He subsequently tracks down the
real criminal and wrings a confession from him. (Simpkin & Co.
392 pp. 6s.)

The Vintage. By E. F. Benson.

The author of Dodo has travelled some distance from his first
novel. Here we have the history of a people fighting to be free,
the emotions of patriots, the stress of war. The scene is the Greece
which Byron sought to assist to liberty, and the dedication is to
Her Majesty, Olga, Queen of the Hellenes. It is not good reading
for Turks. Mr. Jacomb Hood supplies eleven clever, but un-
necessary, pictures ; and there is a crude, but necessary, map.
(Methuen & Co. 397 jjp. 6s.)

The Fight for the Ckown. By W. E. Norbis.

A political novel. Home Eule is the question at issue, and
Mr. Nori-is's jrappets discuss it from beginning to end. It is,
indeed, a romance of talk. (Seeley & Co. 385 pp. 6s.)

Josiah's Wife.

By Norma Lorimeb.

" Love is so cussed ; it has no respect of goodness " : with this
sentiment the book opens. "He kept her feet warm, and he had
no fear of being disturbed : " that is the end. And between these
two sentences the neurotic heroine, Camela Skidmore, enjoys a
year's holiday from her Baptist husband ; and travels to Sicily
and meets a platonic affinity; and subsequently returns to the
Baptist, who suggests divorce, but is frustrated by the platonic
afiinity, who insists that the Baptist also must first have a year's
holiday. So the Baptist does so, and on his return finds Camela
chastened and penitent. (Methuen & Co. 316 pp. 6s.)

Spanish John. By William McLennan.

There is also a mere trifle of a sub-title : " Being a Memoir, now
first published in complete form, of the early Life and Adventures
of Colonel John McDonnell, known as ' Spanish John,' when a
Lieutenant in the Company of St. James of the Eegiment Irlandia,
in the Service of the King of Spain operating in Italy." It is
hardly necessary to say more, except that there are pictures,
and the story is a brisk one. (Harper & Brothers. 271 pp. 6s.)

A Low-born Lass. By Mrs. Herbert Martin.

This novel begins : " Like Wordsworth's ' Lucy,' Sukey Eogers
was one whom, from her earliest childhood, there was ' none to
praise, and very few to love ' ; but here, I am afraid, the likeness
must be said to cease." It is not the best way to begin a novel.

Sukey, as a chUd, had a friend named Bill Harris, who talked like
this: "There be a cirkis comin', and wild beastses." Indeed,
almost every one in the book talks like this. Sukey loved one man
and married another — a barn stormer — and lives unhappy until we
lose sight of her. (Hurst & Blackett. 305 pp. 63.)

Jack Eivers. By Annie Thomas.

There are chapter-headings in this book that wiU make the senti-
mental novel-reader's mouth water. The ingredients are mixed
according to an old and favourite recipe. The hero is disinherited
by his father, and a vulgarian substituted for him. The hero's fiancee
therefore releases him, and marries the substitute. The hero, thus
stranded, falls in love with the beautiful daughter of an artist, and
wins her, and the artist's wedding present is the hero's ancestral
home. (F. V. White. 240 pp. 6s.)

VrNDicTA. By Fenn March.

How Jermyn Strange's life was darkened, and his Parliamentary
prospects blighted, by the care of a dipsomaniac mother ; how he
loved in vain, and was vainly loved, and won not satisfaction but
wisdom, is the theme of this story; which is a sincere, if not a
remarkable, piece of work. (Horace Marshall & Son. 220 pp.
3s. 6d.)

A Branch of Laurel. By A. B. Louis,

A story of religious persecution in France in the time of
Louis XIII. The central figures in the drama are Pere Grandier,
and a jealous Abbess who brings about his execution at the stake
on a false charge. A pathetic little book. (Bliss, Sands & Co.
147 pp. 3s. 6d.)

The Lady Charlotte.

By Adeline Sergeant.

Lady Charlotte Byng is a handsome and accomplished woman,
proud of her family records. Anxious to publish these, she
employs Arthur Ellison to edit the "Belfield Memoirs." Ellison,
being a cad, seeks his own ends, makes love to Lady Charlotte's
niece, and secretly compiles a slanderous book on the family from
the materials placed before him. Then, by the eternal law of
improbability, his MS. is sent to Lady Cliarlotte for her opinion,
by a publisher to whom she acts as "reader." "I wonder
if I shall kill this young man ? " she says as she examines the
MS. The upshot may be left unindicated. A sprightly story.
(Hutchinson & Co. 335 pp. 6s.)

Two Bonnie Scotch Lassies.

By E. G. Heron Watson.

An amateurish love-story. Miss Watson describes the beauty of
her heroines in] the halfpenny novelette manner, and uses French
and italics too freely. When one of the heroines is trying to
escape from a gipsy caravan, we read : " A ditch — a deep ditch — and,
thank God ! it was dri/, there being almost no water in it." (Turn-
bull & Spears. 255 pp.)

The White Cat. By Henry Francis.

This is a pleasant love-story laid in the Chiltern Hills. We are
introduced to prosperous farmers, fox-hunting squires, dairy-maids,
and the whole roimd of village life, with a diversion to London
when the plot thickens. The white cat plays a subordinate, but a
continuous part in the story. (William Eeeves. 290 pp. 4s. 6d.)

The Blue Diamonds. By Leila Boustead.

Those readers who can believe that a woman may marry her
lover's twin brother by mistake, and only find it out when her
husband dies,' and his brothey turns up, may enjoy this Anglo-
Indian P. & 0. story. Others will not. (F. V. White & Co.
119 pp. Is.)

The Eajah of Patmandri. By Henry Francis.

This is a Hindu romance, compact of temple mysteries, and
nautch girls, and tigers, and snake-charming, and captivities, and
escapes — with a love-story emerging. (William Eeeves. 277 pp.

48.)

150

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

"THE SCHOOL FOE SAINTS."

By H. W. Massingham.

The chief literarj' quality of this book seems to me its reserve — its
distinction. It is restful to have this quiet, sober work after a
confused noise of many Crocketts. And it argues singular courage
for a writer to set aside her earlier and lighter successes and
begin steadily to walk the path of great literature. But I hope she
will not expect any encouragement. Most English readers prefer
The Mighty Atom to a dozen School for Saints. In the first
place, they are not interested in saints, unless they happen to be
like Father Storm ; and, in the second place, the presence of
scholarship and artistry in a novel will seem to them a weariness
and an intrusion. The public which, through the golden mouth of
Mr. Clement Scott, proclaimed Ibsen " a muck-ferreting dog,"
thought Jude the Obscure obscene, and neglected Meredith during
the greater part of his career, will certainly vote The School for
Saints a bore. Many will think it profane. Others, I have no
doubt, will regard it as a Popish plot. For myself, I confess that,
while I have no sympathy with its religion, I think it a most
interesting and original study in religious emotion ; that I find it
none too long ; and that I am glad that the purpose of writing
it is to be developed in a sequel. That it rejects most of
the conventions of the modern novel, and restores the writer to his
place of analyst, appraiser, and chorus to his characters, is not a
point of recommendation to me. I like to see the novelist lay aside
this prerogative. But " John Oliver Hobbes " uses it with so much
grace, and at times with such notable power, that I reconcile
myself at last to these communings, these gentle and mystical
responses to the devotions of Eobert and Brigit. And finally, I
express my gratitude for another charming archaism, the revival,
for the purposes of the novel, of the art and practice of letter- writing.
Many of Orange's letters are quite Eichardsonian in length ; but
they are all delightful.

The book has grown out of an idea. "The school for saints"
is the world ; the rather unsaintly world, one would say, of Mr.
Disraeli and Austrian Archdukes with morganatic wives from the
Opera. Indeed, the majority of "John Oliver Hobbes's" char-
acters appear rather to regard it as a battlefield, a playroom, a
counting-house — or if as a school, a school for scandal. But, none
the less, the author does contrive to suggest with great skill the
presence in such a society of influences which bring about that
taming, or even surrender, of the wiU which we call saintliness.
This is how she describes the working of this influence on the
fastidious temper of her hero, Eobert Orange :

'' He learnt that there was still an influence on this earth which
neither doctrines of vanity nor the pride of life could mar. And
whereas other influences made for restlessness, dissatisfaction, a sort of
shame, and certainly much foUy, this, on the contrary, brought streno-th
and a sense of heirship to the peace of God. He obtained, too, his first
clear and mitroubled vision of time. He saw that, of a truth, a thousand
years were as one day, and one day was as a thousand years— not in
God's sight only, but m that school for saints which has been often called
the way of the world."

The master in this school is, of course, the Eoman Catholic
Church. There Orange finds a rich soil for cultivating the life of
the soul amid the desert of society — a society, be it remembered
of antimacassars and mid-Victorian emotions; but he does not
leave it. He remains

" Half in the busy world, and half beyond it."

He is patronised by his chief, Disraeli, stands for Parliament at
a by-election, wms his seat (is it not a little curious that he a
Catholic, 18 made to do so at a moment when his party is opposing
Irish Disestablishment ?), and takes part, half for love, half for
principle, in the Carlist rising of that period. He suffers or is
happy, falls in love, adventures his fortunes, or even flirts with an
Anglican countess ; but throughout he retains his devotional air
Not dissimilar from him is Brigit Duroc, daughter of a quaint
parentage. She, too, is one part devote, one part woman of the
world. She inclines to the religious life ; but she can write of her
friends with quite mundane sprightliness :

"Madrid, August, 1869.
' ' Again my plans are changed. Early this morning I was formally pi e-
sented to Lady Fitz fiewM. She and I were together for a short time
last mght, while we were waiting for Mr. Orange's return, and she did

not then appear well disposed towards me. She seemed lackadaisical
and fngid— she might have been a toy nightingale with a musical box
m her breast, and, whenever she opened her lips to say ' Yes 'or 'No "
I expected to hear the pkintive tinkle of'Au clair de la lune." But to-day
she was another creature — all smiles and curls and kindness. She may
be ten years older than myself ; she is very blue round the eyes, a little
hollow in the cheeks. Her figure is graceful; she has quantities of
flaxen hair, a pink and white complexion, a foolish rather pretty mouth
and a chin like Martin Luther's. She dresses beautifully, and her waist
cannot measure eighteen inches. I had no opportunity to observe her
closely, so I give you this impression— taken at a glance— for what it is
worth."

Even when she runs away with Eobert it is to a convent, and with
a breviary in her hand :

" He made his way down to the Lady Chapel. The door stood open.
He entered, fearing horribly that he would find it empty. But she was
there.

' Brigit ! '

' Robert ! '

' Have I frightened you ? '

' No. I knew you were coming.'

' Why •- '

' Because you always come when I ask our Blessed Lady to send you.'

' Then this is a miracle.'

' "What else 'f Where shall we go ? '

' Will you come with me ? '

' Of course.'

' But away from this place — to London ? '

' I trust you in all things.'

' Can you run ? '

' Like the wind.'

' Then give me your hand.'

' Put my breviary in your pocket. Yes, you may kiss it first. It's a
blessed book. It belonfjed to a Saint. She wasn't canonised. Now wait
till I take a long breath. Oh, Eobert ! I love to see you. But— are we
to run to London !' '

' No, angel, we must take a train.'

' I am ready. Where shall we go when we get to London ? '

' I will take you to your convent.'

' She clapped her hands.'

' But dear Pensee ? What will she think ? '

' All is fair in war and .'

' Yes,' she said, hastily, with a blush. ' Mudara means war. I will
write Pensee a letter. That will do. Which hand will you have 'f '

' The left. PoUow me.' "

Perhaps the quaintness of these and some earlier scenes arises
from the fact that the atmosphere of the book — an atmosphere
most delicately and successfullj^ preserved — is French rather than
English. This may explain what is a puzzle to the Saxon mind-
how Orange became a Catholic. The change seems to come rather
as a matter of training and temperament, or even of aesthetic
choice, than of conviction. Indeed, "Dizzy's" comment on the
conversion does not seem entirely astray :

" ' Yesterday,' he says, ' I was received into the Boman communion.
I went to a little chapel I know of and made my profession to a simple
parish priest — a secular. He knows my name, but nothing more of me.
We have had a short correspondence, however, and the step is not
sudden. I have been meditating it for several years, and my mind oii
that point is at last clear. I know the case against Eome by heart, and
from its accusers I have learnt its defence. Disraeli, who is not
unsympathetic, admits, that imtil a man is settled in his religious belief
one may never know what to expect from him ! But he condemns my
proceeding on the eve of a pohtical contest as suicidal. I replied that I
could not flatter myself that I should be permitted the distinction of
suffering for my creed.' "

This is an admirable sketch of the Disraelian mind ; much more
truthful, as it appears to me, than the scene in which "Dizzy" is
made to take part in a Catholic service, and to be profoundly
impressed by it. But in Orange you are only permitted to see the
effect and the crown of the religious life which has run into the
Catholic mould of obedience and submission. Its processes — the
struggles, the journey through the valley of the shadow, the " strong
convulsions to and fro " — are hidden, and are, indeed, foreign to the
sedateness of the book, and of the temperaments with which it is
concerned. For my part, I would rather have had more of the
vie intime of Eobert and Brigit, and less of Conservative politics in
1869, and the " Legitimate Causes " of Europe.

The book contains two historical portraits of great interest —
Prim and Disraeli. The first is a most brilliant vignette. Of
Disraeli, "John Oliver Hobbes" has made a study so careful and

Feb. 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

161

ingenioua that she has absorbed something of the literary maimer
of her subject, and there are one or two pages of The School for
Saints wliieh read like a subdued edition of Lothair. I hesitate to
say that the portrait, with aU its cleverness, is quite successful.
Disraeli was surely a more theatrical, more insincere, character
than " John Oliver Hobbes " has drawn. His entry into, and final
command of, English society and politics was necessarily a piece of
intellectual brigandage, a kind of Fra Diavolism of modern life ;
and its author never quite lost the contraband air which was his
true pose. But if " John Oliver Hobbes " does now and again
challenge criticism from those who do not accept the religion which
she commends with so much tenderness, so deep — I had almost
said so pathetic — an insistence, no one who cares for English
literature will do other than rejoice to see it reverting to the service
of ideas, to the illumination and illustration of life as the artist, the
scholar, the devotional thinker, see it. From that point of view,
Th^ School for Saints sets us again in the track where only serious
students and honest and capable exponents of the literary art are to
be found, and where only readers who are worth cultivating will
follow her.

Mb.

SOME LIVING POETS.

William Archer's Preferences.

Me. William Archer made avowal of his poetical preferences last
Friday evening when addressing the Society of Women Journalists
on " Some Living Poets." A feature of his address was his plea for
a more generous appreciation of young song-smiths :

" I would ask you," he said to a packed and sympathetic audience,
"to torn a deaf ear to timorous and carping criticism, and have
courage to enjoy, love, praise — and, let me add, to buy— the work of
living men and women bom within, and weU within, the Victorian era —
men and women whom your love can hearten, your praise rejoice, and
whom your sohder tribute, perhaps, may place in a position to develop
their genius more fully than is possible while poetry, as the saying goes,
is ' a drug in the market.' "

Coming next to the questions, "What have we?" and "What
do we lack ? " Mr. Archer declared that we lack two things : great
narrative poems and great poetic dramas, and with the reason for
this he briefly entered. What have we ?

" Everything," was the reply, " except the drama and the long
nan-ative. We are rich in the short narrative, or ballad, in contem-
plative, specvdative, philosophic poetry, and in every form of lyric, from
the ode to the versicle, from the avalanche to the single snowflake.
Along two hues especially are we continuing, as well as heart can desire,
the noblest traditions of English ]3oetry. We are stiU great in the vision
and interpretation of nature, and in the utterance of our national self-
consciousness. Nor are we by any means to seek, I should say, in the
exercise of that fimction which a poet-critic has somewhat paradoxically
proclaimed the supreme function of poetry — to wit, ' criticism of life.' "

And now for Mr. Archer's own preferences. Taking first poems
of nature (" it has always," he said, " been the delight of our English
poets to talk about the weather "), Mr. Archer read one of Mr.
Henley's Hospital Rhymes and Rhythms — the twenty-second, entitled
" Pastoral," and beginning :

" 'Tis the Spring
Earth has conceived, and her bosom.
Teeming with Summer, is glad."

Mr. Archer continued as follows (we quote the Baily Chronicle's
report) :

I venture to say that if Chaucer could read these lines he would hail
ithis poet one of his rightful kindred . But the spring, in spite of the cooling
of the planet and the heating of the furnaces, is still very much what it
was m Chaucer's time. What is new and peculiar to our age is the teeming,
lihrobbing, clangorous life of our great cities ; and this, too, the modern
poet ought to interpret. WeU, again I turn to Mr. Henley — this time
]to his Londiin Voluntaries, and I find four pictures of London scenery
■which are pure masterpieces of vision and technical accomplishment.

[Here the lecturer read a passage from the dawn-poem, ending with
-he lines :

' The ancient Eiver, singing as he goes
New-mailed in morning to the ancient Sea.']

Let ug now take other aspects of nature, seen by other poets. Here,
or instance, is a romantic landscape ■

' High on a hill the convent hung.
Across a duchy looking down.
Where everlasting mountains flung
Their shadows over tower and town,

The jewels of their lofty snows

In constellations flashed at night ;
Above their crests the moon arose ;

The deep earth shuddered with delight.

The adventurous Sun took heaven by storm ;

Clouds scattered largesses of rain ;
The sounding cities, rich and warm.
Smouldered and glittered in the plain.'
Is not the last stanza a Turner in a quatrain ? The writer, as many of
you probably know, is Mr. John Davidson. And Mr. Davidson does not
excel in romantic landscape alone. I doubt whether any poet has ever
had a keener or more loving eye for English and Scottish nature.

Somewhat similar, perhaps even finer, is the phrase about the sea in
Maire Bruin's appeal to the fairies in " The Land of Heart's Desire," a
Httle play by Mr. W. B. Yeats :

' Faeries, come take me out of this duU world.
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Eun on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame. '

If Mr. Yeats had given us nothing but this magic suggestion of the
' dishevelled tide ' scudding before the vrind, Ireland might still have
claimed him among her poets ; for what is the essence of poetry if it be
not that magic which makes a phrase seem predestinate from before the
beginning of years, a thing the world has been waiting for ;- "

Mr. Archer now approached "philosophical poetry," with whicli
he linked the names of Mr. WiUiam Watson, Mr. Francis
Thompson, and Mr. John Davidson. Even Mr. Watson's feeling
for nature, he thought, is mainly philosophical ; his touch is too
firm and definite to allow of his being a great landscapist. Mr.
Archer illustrated this point by reading several stanzas from Mr.
Watson's " Ode in May," which showed, he said, that poetry only
needs time to assimilate the material brought to her by science.
Mr. Francis Thompson had already done this in his " Anthem of
Earth." Mr. Davidson, again, was nothing if not a strong thinker.
Mr. Archer spoke of the difiiculty of quoting speculative and philo-
sophical poetry, but, he added :

"there is one philosophic poem — the utterance, at any rate, of a
personal philosophy — which I cannot deny myself the pleasure of citing.
There are poems which we recognise as predestined to immortahty from
the moment we set eyes on them, and this is certainly one of them. It
was published ten years ago in Mr. Henley's first book of verse, and
abeady it is a classic. Stoicism has waited all these centuries for its
superbest utterance, but here it has found it at last :

' Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods there be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how straight the gate.
How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate :
I am the captain of my soul.'

We have among us, barely without the four-mile radius from Charing-
cross, the man who wrote these foiu' quatrains, or, rather, cast them in
clanging bronze ; yet simply because he is aUve, because the voice of our
homage could reach him, and to some extent mitigate for him the ' fell
clutch of circumstance,' we hesitate to haU him a great poet I "

From this branch of his subject Mr. Archer passed to " The
Miscellaneous Lyric," which he boldly compared, in its modem
form, to its Elizabethan models: "What raptures should we not
go into, for instance, if we came across in an Elizabethan song-
book Mr. Francis Thompson's little address 'To a Snowflake.'
It is in this lyrical department," said Mr. Archer, that

" our women singers put forth their best strength. One, Mrs. Clement
Shorter, excels rather in the ballad ; but it is in the pure lyric that Mrs.
Meynell, Ittrs. Marriott Watson, Mrs. Hinkson, Mrs. Badford, Miss
Alma Tadema are at their best There is often a boiutiful intimacy of
emotion in the best work of these ladies, while its technical accom
plishment is in some cases very high."

Leaving the lyrics to the ladies somewhat abruptly, the lecturer

152

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Feb. 5,, 1898.

entered on patriotic poetry— selecting as its representative poets Mr.
Eudyard Kipling, Mr. WiUiam Watson, and Mr. Henry Newbolt.
Of Mr. Kipling he said :

" He brings home to us as no one ever did before a sense of the cost
of Empire in blood and tears. "When he sings of the sea is to tell how
' We have strawed our best to the weed's unrest,
To the shark and the sheering gull.
If blood be the price of admiralty,
Lord God, we ha' paid in full.'
When he sings of Tommy Atkins, he tells us much more of the labours
and horrors than of the glories and deUghts of that irrepressible gentle-
man's career. And he has introduced a new note into patriotic poetry
in praising the enemy and celebrating his valour. This, too, no doubt,
is indirect self-glorification ; but if you will listen to his ' Fuzzy-
Wuzzy ' I think you will admit that there is something more than that
in it."

Mr. Archer read " Fuzzy- Wuzzy," and passed to Mr. "Watson,
whose "Purple East " sonnets he thought would, with all their
defects, take a splendid place in literature. For Mr. Newbolt, too,
Mr. Archer had high praise.

In the concluding passage of his lecture, he returned to his
plea for our living poets. " Slight not the song-smith," he virtually
said. Here are Mr. Archer's words :

" I have nothing to say against searching, discriminating, even
exacting criticism ; and I plead guilty to an extreme intolerance for
poets who are no poets at all. But when a poet is a poet — this is the
thought I would urge upon you — he ought to be praised and loved for
his strongest work, not condemned and scorned for his weakeiit. If he
has written one true and vital poem, he is a benefactor to his coimtry.
Take, for instance, the song I have just read you, ' Admirals AU,' I
beheve that if we were offered the price of a first class line-of -battle
ship to destroy, annihilate, wipe these verses out of existence, it would
be very false economy to accept the offer, I believe Mr. Newbolt's
little book will be worth many battle-ships to ' the Rodneys yet to be.'
But one of the poe's has put the case for poetry better than I can. The
poem is called ' England my Mother,' and the writer is William
Watson."

Mr. Edmund Gosse's Protest.

It was, perhaps, to be expected that some protest would be raised
against Mr. Archer's omissions of other people's favourite poems.
TJp rose Mr. Edmund Go.sse, who wrote the next day to the Daily
Chronicle in an aggrieved mood.

" I would ask Mr. Archer" [wrote Mr. Gosse] " how he could enumer-
ate the poetic forces of our time, and say nothing of Mr. Ai-thur Symons,
nothing of Mr. Lionel Johnson. But I appeal indignantly against the
assumption that their predecessors were persons so insignificant that even
with his microscope Mr. Archer cannot discover their names. What are
we to think of a critic of Mr. Archer's authority who si)eak8 minutely of
our living poets, and has nothing to tell us of Mr. Austin Dobson, or of Mr.
Roberk Bridges, to name but the greatest of the generation which he so
audaciously ignores ? There is not now living an artist in verse so ex-
quisite, so sure of his effect, so completely master of his material, as Mr.
Austin Dobson ; nor, gay and epicurean as his mood is, is he incapable of
sounding in a style wholly his own the deeper notes of human feeling.
Since Mr. Swinburne there has b»en born no poet whose sudden flashing
felicities, whose daring flights of lyric intuition, exceed in pure beauty
those of Mr. Bridges at his best. I cannot find words of eulogy for Mr.
Watson and Mr. Teates if I am told that Mr. Dobson and Mr. Bridges
are contemptible. And the mellifluous reverie of Mr. F. W. H. Myers,
arid the grace of Mr. Lang, and the austere, dry dignity of Canon
Dixon— who is Mr. Archer that he should treat aU these as unworthy of
mention ? I know of but one reply, namely, that they belong to the
age which Mr. Archer, in the interests of a younger school, desires to
blot out of the very annals of Enghsh poetry."

Mb. Archek Explains.

There was only one answer to Mr. Gosse's strictures, and here it
is in Mr. Archer's words :

" What can I say to appease Mr. Gosse, except that there are only
sixty minute.^ in an hour, and that I never dreamed of attempting to
trace in sixty minutes "the magnificent and unbroken evolution of our
poetry"? Had my lecture been the first of a University Extension
coiu-se, I should have set about it very diff'erently. ... It is true that
of the intermediate generation between Mr. Swinburne and Mr. Watson
I selected one, Mr. WiUiam Ernest Henley, for special mention, because
I hold that Mr. Henley ought to be not merely a critic's poet, but a
people's poet, and that tbe comparatively small bulk of his writings has
done him some injustice in the eyes of his countrymen. . . . For the
rest, I spoke only of poets of a distinctly younger generation — poets

bom since 1850— and a lecturer may surely choose to speak of one
generation of men without being held to ' revile ' or disparage another.'
For Mr. Austin Dobson, for example, I have the warmest admiration,
which I have again and again expressed. In this very lecture I quoted
a famous line of Mr. Dobson's, as one would quote a classic."

SOME APHOEISMS.
III. — Schopenhauer.

The popularity of Schopenhauer seems to be mildly increasing in
this country. Mr. Bailey Saunders found it poasible to issue
selections of his more popular writings in volume after volume."
Mr. "Walter Scott has recently issued a selection from Schopen-
hauer's writings, edited by Mr. W. B. RiJnfeldt. It is from the
volume of Counsels and Maxims, translated hy Mr. Saunders, thai
we take the following characteristic utterances. Having found life
"something not to be enjoyed, but to he overcome," hf
endeavours to give to others the result of his experience. "First
of all," he says, " divest yourself of all delusion."

. The safest way of not being very miserable is not to expect to b(
very happy.

Next to this, look for no happiness beyond what you can find ii
yourselves: learn to say truly — Omnia mia — mecum porta.

The world has many bad things in it, but the worst is what ii
called society.

Rascals are always sociable, and the chief sign that a man ha:
any nobility in his nature is the little pleasure he takes in others
company.

To be alone is the fate of all great minds.

Certain porcupines huddled together for warmth on a cold day
but as they began to jjrick one another with their quills they wer(
obliged to disperse. However, the cold drove them together again '
when the same thing happened. At la.st they discovered that the)
would be best off by remaining at a little distance. In the sami
way the need of society drives the human porcupines together, onl>
to be eventually repelled by the many prickly and di.sagreeabli
qualities of their nature. The moderate distance, which they a
last discover to be the only tolerable condition of intercourse, is thi
formal code of politeness and manners.

By all means be polite, for politeness is like a counter ; ai
avowedly false coin with which it is foolish to be stingy. We mus
not cut ourselves off entirely from our fellow-creatures, notwith
standing their depravity, for only thus do we gain experience of th(
world.

Experience of the world is a kind of text, to which reflection anc
knowledge form the commentary. "Where there is a great deal o
reflection and intellectual knowledge, and very little experience, thi
result is like those books which have two lines of text to forty line:
of comment. A gi-eat deal of experience with little reflectioi
gives us books in which there are no notes, and much that i:
unintelligible.

See something of human nature, but do not try to mend it.

Eesolve to make use of those you cannot alter.

Above all, do not suffer yourself to be disturbed by those aroum
you.

If you feel irritated by the absurd remarks of two people whos(
conversation you happen to overhear, imagine that you are listen
ing to the dialogue of two fools in a comedy. Prohatum est.

True friendship belongs to that class of things — the sea-serpent
for instance — with regard to which no one knows whether they an
fabulous, or exist somewhere or other.

Everything happens of necessity. Let a man do what he can
and then endure what he must.

To forgive and forget means to throw away dearly bough
experience.

Your friends will tell you they are sincere, your enemies arc
really so.

Do not tell a friend anything you would conceal from an enemy

Give way neither to love nor to hate is one half of worldly
wisdom, say nothing and believe nothing is the other half.

Feb. 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

153

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1898.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

THE "unpublished Stevenson," which The
Outlook has announced for i)ublication,
is the Valedictory Address written by Eobert
Louis Stevenson, as one of the Presidents of
the Speculative Society of Edinburgh, in
1872. The author was too ill at that time
to read the paper himself, and the duty was
undertaken by his friend Mr. Charles
Baxter.

Apropos of the SiJeculative Society, it may
be interesting to put on record the fact
that Mr. Charles Baxter, who practically
initiated the Edinburgh edition of Eobert
Louis Stevenson's works, shares with Sir
Walter Scott the distinction of having held
office as secretary of the Society for three
consecutive years. Mr. Baxter tells the
interesting circumstance that in the minute
books (of which the Society possess an abso-
lutely complete set) Sir Walter invariably
spelled Tuesday " Teusday." His inversion
of the " ue " was persistent.

It is more than probable that the pur-
chasers of the Edinburgh Stevenson may
be offered yet another exclusive volume
when tliat publication comes to an end.
A. book of line reproductions of illustrations
in black and white of scenes and characters
in Stevenson's life and writings, drawn by
different artists, selected by a well-known
critic, and accompanied by notes and extracts
from the works, would be a fitting crown to
the twenty-seven Edinburgh volumes. It
is possible that such a book may be forth-
coming. Of course, the price will be high
— two and a-half or three guineas ; and
unless subscribers are found to guarantee
the edition, no further steps will be taken.
But the scheme seems to us an excellent
one.

It is perhaps a pity that Mr. Archer did
not more definitely state that his remarks
last week on "Some Living Poets" were
to be taken more as expressing personal
preferences than absolute critical judgment.
What he did, in other words, was to
translate into action the present fashion
for anthologising : a simpler course, by the
way, than to print, because one evades all
copyright difficulties. Mr. Archer did not
claim that the poems which he read were
the best, but that they were his own
selection from his not too weU-stocked
shelves. All this proves that Mr. Archer
took his lecture much less seriously than
other persons have done. Personally, we
do not agree with many of Mr. Archer's
remarks, but we find his point of view
interesting. It is, however, a thankless
task to speak either ill or well of a living
poet.

Following Mr. Archer's lecture on Friday
came, on Sunday, at South Place, Finsbury,
a discourse by Sir Alfred LyaU on " Heroic
Poetry." According to Sir Alfred LyaU
heroism on the sea has done more for
the poet than heroism on land ; but he
cannot think that poets have sufficiently
risen to the occasion. There certainly are
fine sea ballads. Campbell's " Battle of
the Baltic," Browning's " Herve Eiel,"
Tennyson's "Eevenge," come to mind at
once. There is also a good sea fight in the
late William Cory's lonica. Sir Alfred
LyaU aUuded enthusiasticaUy to Mr.
Kipling, although he deplores a Uttle his
" lack of nobiUty " and the absence of " the
grand style " in his work ; but to his
frontier baUads— such as " East and West "
— the lecturer gave the highest praise. To
Mr. Kijiling, he suggested, we should look
for the authoritative ballad of the winning
of Dargai.

Sir Alfbkd Lyall naturally made no
quotations from his own poetry ; but no
other critic engaged in such an examination
would be right in omitting reference to
Verses Written in India. Sir Alfred LyaU
therein shows himself to understand the
meaning of heroism as well as any man :
from no anthology of heroic verse could his
" Theology in Extremis" be excluded. But
Sir Alfred LyaU has done more than
the battle poet usually does ; he has shown
himself to have sympathetic understanding
of the feelings also of the other side. Only a
generous, comprehensive mind, gifted with
true imaginative sympathy, could have
produced " The Old Pindaree," " Eajpoot
Eebels," and " A Sermon in Lower Bengal."

We quote, for the benefit of readers who
may be unacquainted with Sir Alfred
LyaU's work, the poignant stanzas entitled
"Badminton":

" Hardly a shot from the gate we stormed,
Under the Mores battlement's shade ;
Close to the glacis our game was formed,
There had the fight been, and there we
played.

Lightly the demoiselles tittered and leapt,
Merrily capered the players aU ;

North, was the garden where Nicholson slept ;
South, was the sweep of a battered wall.

Near me a Mussidman, civil and mild,

Watched as the shuttlecocks rose and fell ;
And he said, as he counted his beads and
smiled,
' God smite their souls to the depths of
heU ! ' "

Verses Written in India, which appeared first
in 1889, is now in its fourth edition.

The writer of the Speaker's article on
Lewis CarroU explains that " g^umious "
was the invention of the devil — the printer's
devil. He himself wrote " frumious " and
very properly has been fuming-furious ever
since. He then asks, " What is Jabber-
wocky doing in your pages ? " adding
slyly, "Jabberwock, my dear Academy,
Jabberwock." But as it happens, we both
are right. Jabberwock was the name of
the beast, Jabberwocky the name of the
poem.

The late Mr. W. C. T. Dobson, E.A.,
was almost unknown to the present genera-
tion of picture-lovers. But twenty or thirty
years ago his pictures of rustic child-life
had always their little crowd at Burlington
House. He handled colours, especiaUy
water-colours, with much skill and refine-
ment, but was never a great artist. Mr.
Dobson's name being among the Honorary
Eetired Academicians, his death leaves no
gap to be fiUed.

At the General Assembly which met on
Wednesday night at the Eoyal Academy
to elect two new members to fiU the places
of the late Mr. J. B. Burgess and the late
Sir John GUbert, and to appoint an Associate
to the existing vacancy, Mr. Benjamin
WiUiams Leader and Mr. John Seymour
Lucas were selected as Academicians, and
Mr. Charles Napier Hemy as Associate.
The Daily News gives the foUowing details
of the elections :

KiasT Electiok. — First " Scratching " : Mr. Lucas, 15 ;
Mr. Leader, 14; with Mr. Macbeth, Mr, Waterlow, and Mr.
Swan, qualiBed tor the blackboard ; with support to Mr.
Abbey, Mr. Colin Hunter, Mr. Storey, and Mr. Bodley.
Second Scratching: Mr. Leader, 20; Mr. Lucas, 16; fol-
lowed by Mr. Macbeth, Mr. Swan, and Mr. Waterlow.
Ballot: Mr. Leader, 2i ; Mr. Lucas, 21. Mr. Leader elected.

Sbcoitd ELBCxroN.— PMrst Scratching: Mr. Lucas, 23;
Mr. M^clwth, 8; followed by Mr. Swan, Mr. Hunter, Mr.
Waterlow, Mr. Murray, Mr. Abbey, Mr. Storey, and Mr.
Brett. Second Scratching: Mr. Lucas, 2t; Mr. Macbeth,
11 ; followed by Mr. Swan, Mr. Waterlow, and Mr. Hunter.
Ballot: Mr. Lucas, 35; Mr. Macbeth, W. Mr. Lncas
elected.

Abkociatkb' El. Ecrioir.— First Scratching: Mr. Bast, 10;
Mr. Farrinharaon, 7 ; Mr. Napier Hemy, 6 ; followed by Sir
George Keid, Mr. Cope, Mr. Corboit, Mr. Belcher, Mr.
Aston Webb, Mr. A. Goodwin, Mr. T. Graliam, Mr. G. Joy,
Mr. Lorimer, and Mr. A. Stolcea. Second Scratching : Mr.
East, 11; Mr. Hemy, 0; followed by Mr. Farquharson, Mr.
Cope, Sir George Reid, Mr. Corbett, Mr. Belcher, and Mr.
Webb. Ballot ; Mr. Homy, 26 ; Mr. Kast, 26. Mr. Napier
Hemy elected.

We gathered, the other day, on reading
the Daily Chronicle, that literature was
about to lose M. J. K. Huysmans in the
cloister's shade. Now we read that the
priest to whom M. Huysmans applies for
counsel advises him to remain at his post at
tlie Ministry of the Interior untU he has
earned his retiring pension ; which is ex-
ceUent advice. He also believes that M.
Huysmans wiU do more proportionate good

154

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

by his new forthcoming novels, Sainte
Lydwine and L^ Ollat, than by taking the
cowl at an age when his character is
formed " ; which is arguable.

The French translation of Mr. Meredith's
Essay on Comedy will have a preface by
Mr. Arthur Symons.

A COREESPONDENT writes : "In your issue
of January 22 you announced that a second
edition of Mr. Stephen Phillips's Poems, in
which several misprints will be corrected,
was about to be issued. It would also con-
tain a revision of the poem of " The Wife,"
amounting to a considerable re-writing.
This is hardly welcome news to the pur-
chasers of the first edition. Would it not
be possible in such a case, as well as an act
of justice, for the publisher also to issue a
few pages containing the emendations for
the behoof of the earlier buyers? They
should be of uniform size with the original
volume, so that they could be inserted within
the cover ; and a small charge would doubt-
less willingly be paid."

Mr. E. H. Cooper, who wrote The
Marchioness Against the County, is the right
kind of author. He sends the following
missive to the Pall Mall Gazette :

" Having been for some days past under the
charge of Parisian surgeons, I have only just
spen your review of my novel, The Marchioness
Against the County. When your reviewer calls
my dear ' Helen ' a ' typical stage-child, high-
flown, fantastic, and a prodigy of accomplish-
ments,' I, of course, suffer a relapse, which
bewilders Dr. Faure-Miller. But when he
speaks of her later on as an ' infant prodigue,'
evidently under the impression that ' enfant
prodigue ' means ' infant phenomenon,' I laugh
and recover. In gratitude for my recovery I
will give him a French dictionary if you will
send me his address."

We have reasons for believing that the
" stage-child's " diary, quoted by Mr.
Cooper, is a genuine document.

A CURIOUS literary product reaches us from
Messrs. Longmans, in the shape of Thoughts
and Words, three volumes of extracts from
classical and modem authors of every degree
of talent. The volumes are bound in
veUum stamped with the author's arms and
signature — Stephen Dowell. Mr. Dowell
tells us that this portentous Commonplace-
Book is the fruit of an attack of influenza
which left him dependent on literary recrea-
tion. The work has little or no plan, the
second volume being frankly devoid of any,
while the third centres round tobacco, and
some " pretty pieces of poetry put together
in the Engadine to please a lady." The
three volumes contain nearly 1,400 pages,
and they may grace a drawing-room table,
or refine conversation in the smoke-room.
On the other hand, they seem to add a new
terror to the influenza.

Literature tells a pleasant story of a lady
who was ransacking one of the " Periodical "
volumes of the Catalogue in the British
Museum Reading-room, and who, on being
offered assistance by an official, exclaimed :
' ' Oh, thank you, I have to go to Exeter this
afternoon, and I'm just looking for Brad-

shaw." Someone should make a collection
of British Museum stories and traditions.
The compiler might include the remark
which fell from a working man the other
day, when he and his wife were inspecting
the Elgin marbles. After a long silence he
was heard to say to his partner, "Well,
these ancient Greeks licks me, sometimes I
thinks they was civilised, and sometimes
I thinks they wasnH."

Under the title of The Cockney Columbus,
Mr. David Christie Murray renders an ac-
count of the visits he paid to America and
Australia in the spring of last year. Mr.
Murray has a good deal to say in his Pre-
face on the relations between the United
States and Great Britain, and incidentally
he reproduces words which he addressed
to the fiftieth gathering of the Association
of State Teachers, held in New York during
his visit. Mr. Murray touched upon the
vexed subject of American school-books,
and the kind of teaching regarding England
which is conveyed in them to American boys
and girls. He said :

" When I visited your country I made
acquaintance with certain books employed in
schools which seemed to me to deal with long-
buried controversy with an acrimony, which,
however just and natural at one time, had
grown out of date and needless. You can
afford to teach your children now that the
England of to - day regrets and condemns
nothing in its history as it regrets and con-
demns that time. There are, thank God, many
forces which tend to unite us to each other, but
there are some influences of disruption too, and
I take these school-books to be one of the latter.
Truth has a right to be told, and Englishmen
have no right to shrink from it. But in this
case, more than in most, the whole truth is
desirable. Side by side with the history of
arrogance and folly, set down the history of
regret. Teach the story of the valour of yovir
forefathers — your children have a claim to hear
it — but let it be known to your charges in
their tender years, that not even in their own
land is that valour more esteemed than it is
among your old-time enemies. Tell them there
is no name in English annals more revered by
Englishmen than tiiat of Washington."

We quote the following from the Daily

News:

" Among big sales of recent novels, the
following may be mentioned. A quarter of a
million copies of Mr. Farjeon's Australian
story, Orif, have been sold in England,
AustraUa, America, and South Africa. Ten
thousand copies of Mrs. Craigie's The School
for Saints have been sold, and a second edition
will be issued at the end of this week or
beginning of next. Forty thousand copies of
Dr. Weir MicheU's Huyh Wynne have been
sold in America alone, while in this country the
sale has been large.

The story-teUer does not often hit upon
so taking a motto as this prefixed to Traits and
Confidences, a collection of stories by the Hon.
Emily Lawless. The lines are from The
Cunninge Craftsmanne :

" The Uttel teller tells hys littel minde
In littel tales to readers colde or kinde,
Some in plain wordes, and some in wordes

more bUnde,
So much is tolde, yet muche remaynes

behinde."

A correspondent of the Boston Literary i
World refers in strong terms to Stevenson's
Father Damien :

" As a masterpiece of vindictive writing that
letter biHs fair for a long life, but should be
classed as much among pure fiction as T)r. Jehyll
and Mr. Hyde. Dr. Hyde did not publish any
attack on Father Damien. He simply, in a
private letter, stated facts that were well known
in Honolulu. His correspondent saw fit to print
what had not been intended for the public, and
thereby brought down this torrent of abuse, j
whiih must be received as any other unjust
calumny. Dr. Hyde as a man is as superior to
E. L. Stevenson as Stevenson himself as a
writer is to the generality of scribblers. But
' Ephraim is joined to idols; let him alone.'"

Our only comment on such a letter is that it^
should have appeared several years earlier.

The New York correspondent of a Boston
paper suggests that Mr. Wells has an
ingenious American rival. He writes:
An extraordinary romance, by Garrett P.
Serviss, entitled Edison's Conquest of Mars,
is appearing serially in the Evening Journal
here. It introduces Mr. Thomas A. Edison
as one of the chief figures, and certain
imaginary inventions of his are made
striking features of the plot. Mr. Edison
has publicly expressed his annoyance at
being used in this way, but he says that he
knows of no means of obtaining redress.
The case is a very curious violation of
literary ethics, and it is surprising that a
man with the excellent reputation of the
author should be the offender. Mr. Edison'
could probably find redress if he cared tc
take the matter into the courts and to endure
further annoyance.

The old poet's plea :

" O for a book in a shadie nook ! "

is amplified and particularised by Mr. Clintor
ScoUard in the current Scribner's. This if
his wish :

" If I ftray wood- ward, not for me
The loudeft warbler in the tree.
But rather one that f ings apart
The Ample fongs that touch the heart
And fo, although I may afpire,
Be mine the temperate deilre —
Not for the miffal-marvel old '

Illumed with meliseval gold, ;

Not for the rare black-letter text
O'er which his foul a Caxton vext,
Nor what fome feek through f hine and fnow
A pricelefs Shakefpeare folio I

But only this — one little book

Wherethrough do bird and bee and brook.

In their melodious employ,

Sing on and on and on of Joy ;

And where, amid the Maytime flowers,

Love without rival, rules the hours.

One little book — whofe title date

Reads quaintly, 164S ;

In Saint Paul's churchyard, we are told.

Sold at the Crown and Mary gold.

One little book — if fortune pleafe —

Herrick, a ' flrft ' Hesperides ! "

Messrs. W. & E. Chambers will havi
ready on March 15 their new Englisl
Dictionary, pronouncing, explanatory, an(
etymological, which has been in progres.
for some years under the editorship of Mr
Thomas Davidson, one of the assistan

Feb. 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

165

editors of Chamhers' Encyclopedia. The
book is in one volume, and is copiously
illustrated.

Fob discovering what a forthcoming novel
is about there is nothing like the advance
notice. Take Mr. Robert Buchanan's new
story, for example. We might have supposed
it to be in his customary melodramatic
manner, but for the following description:
" Mr. Eobert Buchanan's The Rev. Annabel
Lee is Ukely to cause considerable discussion
in religious circles. The author states that
his object in writing this novel is to show
that if all religions were destroyed and
perfect material prosperity arrived at,
humanity would reach not perfection but
stagnation. Mr. Buchanan starts with the
twenty-first century from the birth of^Christ,
when among the new race of men and women,
sickness, poverty, disease and crime were
practically imknown ; when everywhere the
son shone down on happy human organisa-
tion familiar with the laws of life and eager
in the pursuit of social happiness. Into
this scheme of life enters a beautiful and
charming maiden, the Rev. Annabel Lee,
who is not satisfied with the existing' con-
dition of things, and is eager to lead her
race back to the precepts of a forgotten
Christianity. So lofty, pure and beautiful
is she that her personality holds the reader
spellboimd to the last page." Knowing
this, we shall be able to come to the book
itself with an unprejudiced mind — or to
avoid it.

Messes. Macmillan will issue in the
course of the present month, under the
title of Songi of England, a collection of the
more distinctly national lyrics of the Poet
Laureate, which at present are scattered
throughout his various works. The volume
will be published at a shilling.

Under the titie of The Saving of Ireland,
Messrs. Blackwood are to publish, in time
for the re-assembling of Parliament, a new
book by Sir George Baden-Powell, dealing
generally with the economic, financial, and
political aspects of the Irish problem, and
especially with the Financial Relations
Commission and the extension of local
government in Ireland.

Me. 'WILLIA.^t Reeves will publish in a

] few days a new threepenny journal, entitled

I The Eagle and the Serpent, dedicated to the

Philosopliy of Life enunciated by Nietzsche,

Emerson, Thoreau, Goethe, and Spencer.

" Iota " (Mrs. Mannington Caffyn),
autlior of A Yellow Aster, has finished a
new novel, entitled Poor Max, which Messrs.
Hutchinson & Co. are bringing out on the
15th inst.

! Messes. Sampson Low & Co. write : " We
jare preparing to publish, early in the spring,
■ Vol. V. of The English Catalogue of Books,
i 1890-1897. As we wish to make it as
jcomplete as possible, may we ask those of
lyour readers who have published books
between January 1st, 1890, and December

31st, 1897, for the fuU titles, sizes, prices,
month and year of publication, and authors'
and publishers' names, to be sent as soon
as possible, addressed to Editor, English
Catalogue of Books, care of Sampson Low,
Marston & Co., Fetter-lane, London."

Mr. Andrew Titer, of the Leadenhall
Press, E.C., who wishes to be referred to for
rare examples or collections, has, we under-
stajid, a profusely illustrated work nearly
finished dealing with old books for children.

A new Dictionary of the Bible has been
projected, and is about to be published by
Messrs. T. & T. Clark, of Edinburgh. It is
described as a Dictionary of the Old and
New Testaments, together with the Old
Testament Apocrypha, according to the
Authorised and Revised English Versions,
and with constant reference to the original
tongues. Every effort has been used to
make the information it contains reasonably
full, trustworthy, and accessible. Articles
have been written on Persons and Places,
the Antiquities and Archasology of the
Bible, on its Ethnology, Geology, and
Natural History, and an explanation is
given of every archaic word. To all but
minor articles the names of the authors are
appended.

Miss Dixon, formerly of Girton College,
Cambridge, has been engaged for more than
a year past, so far as indifferent health
would allow, upon a translation of selected
letters from the voluminous correspondence
of Petrarch, never before translated into
English. The selection was made in the
first instance from Fracasetti's sympathetic
but very prolix Italian translation by Miss
Helen Zimmem, who proposed also to con-
tribute a brief historical introductory para-
graph to each letter. For various reasons,
the work has now passed entirely into the
hands of Miss Dixon, as sole editor as well
as translator. Miss Dixon will jirobably
re-model the work upon an entirely different
and more adequate basis, publishing it
eventually in the form of a Life and Letters.

To Messrs. George Bell & Son's
"Cathedral Series" are added volumes on
Winchester and Liclifield cathedrals, written
respectively by Mr. Philip W. Sergeant and
Mr. A. B. Clifton. Each book is profusely
illustrated with photographs.

The Story of tlie Malakand Field Force is the
titie of a book by Lieut. Winston Spencer
Churchill, of the 4th Queen's Own Hussars,
which will be published by Messrs. Long-
mans & Co. early in February. The text
will bo illustrated by maps and plans.

Me. Geoege Mooee's new novel, Evelyn
Innes, on which he has been engaged for a
very long time, may be expected in the
spring.

Messrs. Dent & Co. will publish this
month a Book of Cats drawn and written by
Mrs. W. Chance, contiiining between thirty
and forty reproductions of that lady's pencil
drawings.

THE POETRY OF MR. ROBERT
BRIDGES.
Among the poets of our own day who
have never quite come to their inheritance
we should be inclined to give Mr. Robert
Bridges the first place. That he should not
be more popular is, of course, nothing ; but
that he should not be more heartily and
unhesitatingly proclaimed by the critics does,
we must own, fill us with amazement. For,
surely, that little volume of lyrical poems,
so carefully winnowed from divers earlier
and more ephemeral pamphlets, so patiently
purified from all but the pure gold of song,
should be, it it is not, one of the booklover's
most cherished possessions. There is scarcely
a thing in it we would have away, scarcely
one that is not far on the road towards per-
fection. Popularity, we fancy, Mr. Bridges
has never sought, and would hardly know
what to do with. His is essentially the
poetry of a scholar and a recluse ; if you will
not listen to his Muse in her own shy
recesses, she certainly will not come out to
bawl for your hearing in the streets. Some-
what deliberately, Mr. Bridges stands aside
from the more clamant interests of his
age; its religious, political, humanitarian
upheavals make no appeal to him ; the stUl,
sad music of the toiling world finds but littie
echo in his solitude of song. He has stood
aside from it all ; he rarely takes you into
his confidence, but he tells you so much :

" And country life I praise,
And lead, because I find
The philosophic mind
Can take no middle ways ;
She will not leave her love
To mix with men, her art
Is aU to strive above
The crowd, or stand apart."

But though the world, and the troubles
and problems of the world, be excluded,
there is still, even in these latter days,
enough to sing about. There is the sheer
physical beauty of external things, to which
Mr. Bridges is abundantiy sensitive. He
does not reproduce the somewhat outworn
pastoral convention : no shepherds flaunt
their be-ribboned crooks in his pages, but
he does, for all that, feel the country a good
deal as the pastoralist feels it. It is to him
a refuge, a place of cool retreat from the
mid-day sun of life. And, of course, he
observes more precisely, more subtiy than
the pastoralist — to whom, good, honest
fellow, one flower was much tiie same as
another— ever dreamt of observing. Here i s
a delicate description of a secret nook beside
the silver Thames :

" A rushy island guards the sacred bower.
And hides it from the m^-adow, whore in

peace
The lazy cows wrench many a scented flower.
Bobbing the golden market of the bees :

And laden barges float

By banks of myosote ;
And scented flag and golden flower-de-lys

Delay the loitering boat."
And on this side the island, where the pool
Eddies away, are tangled, mass on mass,
The water-weeds, that net the fishes cool.
And scarce allow a narrow stream to pass ;

Where spreading crowfoot mars

The drowning nenuphars.
Waving the tassels of her silken grass

Below her silver stars."

156

THE ACADEMY.

LFbb. 5, 1898.

And here a vignette of autumn, wonderfully

imaginative and curiously felicitous in tne

easy movement of its liberal metre.

" But, ah! the leaves of summer that lie on the

ground !

What havoc ! The laughing timbrels of Jime,

That curtained the birds' cradles, and screened

their song.
That sheltered the cooing doves at noon.
Of airy fans the delicate throng, —
Tom and scattered around :
Far out afield they lie,
In the watery furrows die,
In grassy pools of the flood they sink and

drown,
Green-golden, orange, vermiUon, golden and

brown,
The high year's flaunting crown
Shattered and trampled down."

Of metre Mr. Bridges is a master, as
befits one who has written learnedly and
with insight on the rhythms both of Milton
and of Keats. He delights in metrical
experiment, and, by skilful resolution of
syllables and shifting of accent, manages to
secure an almost inexhaustible variety of
effect. He has left the English lyric a far
more flexible thing than he found it, and one
seems already to trace his influence in the
versification of such younger writers as Mr.
Stephen PhUlips and Mr. Laurence Binyon.
Another point to which Mr. Bridges has
paid considerable attention is the relation
of verse to musical setting. We do not
know whether many of his lyrics have
actually been set, but there are not a few
which sing themselves as you read them.
Such are the fine lines beginning, " Awake,
my soul, to be loved, awake, awake ! " and
the still finer ones, of which these are the
first three stanzas :

" I made another song,
In likeness of my love :
And sang it aU day long,
Around, beneath, above ;
I told my secret out,
That none might be in doubt.

I sang it to the sky,

That veiled his face to hear

How far her azure eye

Outdoes his splendid sphere ;

Bat at her eyelids' name

His white clouds fled for shame.

I told it to the trees,
And to the flowers confest.
And said not one of these
Is hke my lily drest ;
Nor spathe nor petal dared
Vie with her body bared."

After, perhaps before, his nature-poetry, it
is as a love-poet that Mr. Bridges excels.
The lines just quoted have the simplicity,
the exaltation of the best Caroline work.
And there are many other poems in which
the passion of love imds high and romantic
expression. This is, perhaps, one of the
finest :

" I will not let thee go.
Ends all our month-long love in this ?
Can it be summed up so,
Quit in a single kiss ?
I will not let thee go.

I will not let thee go.
If thy word's breath could scare thy deeds.
As the soft south can blow
And toss the feathered seeds,
Then might I let thee go.

I will not let thee go.
Had not the great sun seen, I might ;
Or were he reckoned slow
To bring the false to light.
Then might I let thee go.

I will not let thee go.
The stars that crowd the summer skies
Have watched us so below
With all their mUlion eyes,
I dare not let thee go.

I will not let thee go.
Have we not chid the changeful moon,
Now rising late, and now
Because she set too soon.
And shall I let thee go ?

I wUl not let thee go.
Have not the young flowers been content,
Plucked ere their buds could blow.
To seal our sacrament P
I cannot let thee go.

I wUl not let thee go,
I hold thee by too many bands :
Thou sayest farewell, and lo !
I have thee by the hands.
And will not let thee go."

It will give a good idea of Mr. Bridges's
width and range of feeling if we contrast
with the vigour and intensity of this some
stanzas from the " Elegy on a Lady, whom
Grief for the Death of her Betrothed
Killed." This elegy, we dare maintain,
with its solemn movement and hymenseal
imagery, to be one of the half-dozen noblest
threnodies in the language :

" Reach down the wedding vesture that has lain
Yet all unvisited, the sdken gown :
Bring out the bracelets, and the golden chain
Her dearer friends provided : sere and brown
Bring out the festal crown.
And set it on her forehead lightly :
Though it be withered, twine no wreath
again;
This only is the crown she can wear rightly.

Cloke her in ermine, for the night is cold.
And wrap her warmly, for the night is long,
In pious hands the flaming torches hold,
WMle her attendants, chosen from among
Her faithful virgin throng.
May lay her in her cedar litter,
Decking her coverlet with sprigs of gold,
Eoses, and lilies white that best befit her.

Sound flute and tabor, that the bridal be
Not without music, nor with these alone ;
But let the viol lead the melody,
With lesser intervals, and plaintive moan
Of sinking semitone ;
And, all in choir, the virgin voices
Best not from singing in slolled harmony
The song that aye the bridegroom' s ear
rejoices.

Let the priests go before, arrayed in white,
And let the dark stoled minstrels follow slow;
Next they that bear her, honoured on this

night;
And then the maidens, in a double row.
Each singing soft and low.
And each on high a torch up-staying :
Unto her lover lead her forth with light,
With music, and with singing, and with
praying."

If we were asked to define Mr. Bridges's
crowning literary characteristic, we should
say that it was style, in the ultimate sense
of style — that is, distinction. He has such
a perfect mastery of his medium ; he moves
so easily, and with such liberal tread, that
he accomplishes the last feat of the con-

summate artist, and cheats you into believing ,
that art is nature. Take such lines as the
following :

" Many an afternoon
Of the summer day
Dreaming here I lay ;
And I know how soon,
Idly at its hour,
Fu-st the deep bell hums
From the minster tower.
And then evening comes,
Creeping up the glade,
With her lengthening shade,
And the tardy boon.
Of her brightening moon."

What could be more absolute in its sim-
plicity than this ? the words follow their
precise prose order ; and yet, if you try to ;
imitate the effect, what more difficult, what
more tantalising ?

We have spoken of Mr. Bridges chiefly as
the lyrist of his Shorter Poems. And it is in
these that he is most undeniable and con-
vincing. But they are only a part of his
complete achievement. His jilays reveal an
astonishing command of blank verse, and an
unexampled power of catching the precise
manner — Euripidean, Terentian, Shake-
spearean, Miltonic — he may choose. His
"Eros and Psyche," a metrical version
based upon Apuleius, is a delightful essay
in narrative verse, and his sonnets — at
present only attainable in an exj^ensive
privately printed form — are so interesting
that it is to be hoped they wUl soon be more
completely given to the world. But it is
upon the lyrics that we take our stand. '■

WHAT THE PEOPLE EEAU.

IX. — An Aktist.

I FOUND him walking restlessly up and
down in his studio with two long slips of
printed paper in his hand — proofs.

"New story of Kipling's," he said ex-
citedly. "About a ship that caught fire.
I've got to illustrate it for a Christmas
number. Splendid ! There's a picture in
every paragraph. Listen ! "

And he read me out a sentence.

" Can't you see it ? " he said. And he
stepped up to his easel and began sketching
in rough outlines with a bit of charcoal.
" Like this, you know — no — so ! "

The lines began to take the semblance of
human figures.

" But, of course, you don't see it as I do,"
he continued.

The outlines suggested but little to me.
Perhaps because I was thinking of some-
thing else.

" Do you find Kipling easy to illustrate ?"
I asked.

" Well, he's easy enough — in a sense," he
replied — "when you have the knowledge of
his costumes, technicalities, and so on. And
you have to know an uncommon lot to throw
any light on Kipling. Look at the Jungle
Stories, for instance. But the difficulty is
in the selection. Because, to my mind,
Kipling writes in pictures — if you under-
stand me."

" And you consider that a merit ? "

i-EB. 5, 1898. J

THE ACADEMY.

157

" Certainly I do."

"Tell me, do you regard that as a
criterion of excellence ? The writing in
pictures?, I mean. Because, you know, I'm
trying to find out what sort of books various
people like. And I should think you are a
fairly typical black-and-white artist. You
read a good deal, I suppose ? "

" I'm always reading stories that I have
to illustrate."

"Yes; but what do you read when you
read for your own pleasure? What qualities
do you look for in a book ? "

"That's rather hard to say," he replied.

" You see, I'm not literary. I know when

I I like a book, but I don't know that I can

say why I like it. In fact, I don't believe

I've ever asked myself tlie question."

He sat doAvn on the pedestal upon which
he posed his models, and wrinkled his brows
in thought.

" Well, do you like this ? " I asked,
picking up a book from the table. It was
The Autohiographij of a liuij.

"It didn't interest me very much," he
said slowly ; " in fact, I've not been able to
get through it."

"Why not?"

He was obviously delving down into his
mind after the reasons of things visible ;
and I let him alone for a few moments. " I
don't know," he said, " whether I can make
it clear to you. I don't even loiow if I can
see it clearly myself. But I think the books
I like are those that call up a series of
pictures before my mind's eye. Now, I've
just been reading TA* Stori/ of Ab, and that's
a case in point. Yes, I'm sure that's it."

He rose, and walked up and down the
studio, talking quickly, jerkily, but with
every indication that a cliance thrust of the
spade had struck at the root of things.

" I never thought of it before," he con-
tinued ; " but every day when I am reading
stories for illustration I feel it. You can
read, and read, and never see anything. I
don't profess to be a great reader. But I've
read a bit of most things. Meredith —
James — they describe what people are
thinking. Now I want to see the — the
outcome of thought ; what it leads to." And
he made that circular motion of the thumb
which is the masonic sign of the artist.
" You can't see people thinking, can you ? "

I was not so sure of that.

"Now I come to think of it," he pro-
ceeded, "I am always looking for the
picture when I read. Daudet gives you
pictures one after the other. Do you re-
member Sapho ? When the man carried
Sapho upstairs, and got so tired at the end ?
There's a picture ! "

" But it is more. It is emblematic of the
end."

" That comes into the picture — into my
picture."

" WJiat about English writers — Stevenson,
lor instance ? "

"I haven't read much Stevenson. But
Rider Haggard, now — there you have pic-
tures before you all the time. Anthony
Hope too. By Jove! how I'd like to
illustrate The Prisoner of Zenda."

He walked quicker and quicker up and
down the studio.

*' Well, well," he said, stopping short and

picking up the proof again ; "I must get to
work. There's the Century, and Harper's,
and Scrihner's over there, and some illus-
trated French papers too. After all, those
are the things I read first. The best things,
you know, are published outside England."

I sat down, and began burrowing in the
heap.

"The worst of it is," he said, after another
ten minutes over the proof, " that Kipling
doesn't leave anything for the illustrator
to do. The story is aU pictures."

C. E.

PAEI8 LETTEE.

A View of Gtoethe.

(From our French Correspondent.)

M. Edottakd Eod has repubUshed from the
Revue des Deux Mondes his sober and excel-
lent study of Goethe. Around no literary
figure of modem times, except Napoleon,
has such a vast literature gathered. Goethe
may be said to stand upon an imposing
statue made up of other people's books
about him. Nobody has inspired so much
pretentious and inflated cant as that of the
Goethian worship, and to my thinking if there
is a bigger bore than this it is the Olympian
of Weimar himself. Goethe with his
lamentable Werther, the eternal enigma <jf
his Faust, his train of Lotties, and Minnies,
and Frodericas, and Lillies, is a figure to
provoke exasperated lassitude. Carlyle,
with his false air of prophet shouting to
the multitude, has ordered us to admire him
under penalty of being called a fool or a
knave, and writes wildly of the beauty of
his life. Certainly in his relations with
women Goethe was Olympian enough, read-
ing the word as a superlative indifference to
the common laws of conscience and honour
and heart that rule the lives of merely
honest and sincere beings.

For this reason it is a pleasure to open a
book like M. Eod's on this fatiguing theme,
and discover Goethe judged as a man, and
found wanting ; judged as a genius, and
admitted to be somewhere below his
Creator. For so long we had almost been
asked to believe that from the middle
of the last century or so the universe was
solely a matter of Goethe's genius. Upon
mention of his name our ears were
continually assaulted with the inevit-
able words "culture" and " imiversaUty."
It was an intellectual pose to have sounded
the depths of the second part of Faust, a
feat, I am confident, Goethe himself never
accomplished. The greatness of this Ger-
man bourgeois was such an ob8es.sion that
I have always felt I would cheerfully make
the tour of half the world to avoid touching
at Weimar. Judge, then, how refreshing to
turn from Carlyle's high-coloured enthu-
siasm for the Autobiography to M. Eod's
sensible recognition of its affinity to that
other equally insincere and affected auto-
biography of Chateaubriand, Mimoires
d' Outre- Tombe :

"Chateaubriand does not hide his intention
to compose his attitude, and lacking in vanity
from excess of pride, he composes it admirably.
Seemingly more modest, Goethe is perhaps less

sincere : without Laving the air, he corrects
even more his life, he rotmds his gestures even
more carefully. The connexion lies in the
fact that both great works are the portraits
which the two great men, having attained an
equal height, who were equally the spoiled
children of life, wished to leave of themselves."

M. Eod's sane and lucid study is the
result of disenchantment. He, too, wor-
shipped once at the shrine of Weimar,
but returning, years after, to a fresh ac-
quaintance, he found his god singularly
diminished in effulgence and supremacy.
The value of this new appreciation lies in
its honesty and its sincerity. He resolutely
pricks a hole in the vast Goethian legend to
let in a little modem air and light, and
instead of the awe-inspiring Olympian of
eighty years ago — "the teacher and ex-
empler of his age," as Carlyle called him,
the semi-divinity, who loves every woman
he meets, by right of his inspired per-
sonality, his universality and his culture,
and the moment he wins her tearfully rides
away, also by the same indisputable right,
and consoling her with the printed tale of
their relations — we see the mere creature of
literature Goethe always was, whose friend-
ship was literature, whose love was litera-
ture ; literature his hate, his pain, and all
liis life's experience. He well defines this
celebrated olympism, so belauded by an
admiring Europe, as the everyday egoism
of the imlettered multitude lifted to the
state of superior power by refinement and
intelligence.

" A crowd of persons practise this olympism
without suspecting it, with the serenity of un-
cousciousuess, in the peace of irreflection. You
do not admire them for that ; but you are not
angry with them either ; you consider them as
average samples of our ordinary humanity, who
exercise without nobiUty, though with all cor-
rectness, their calling as man."

And speaking of his meaner faults — his
vanity, ambition, literary jealousy — M.
Eod exclaims :

"Alas! we see that he is a man, subject to
all the weaknesses of men ; his ' olympism '
does not ennoble his nature, and can only breed
illusion in himself as to the portion of the
divine it contains."

The measure of Goethe's gentlemanhood
is g^ven in the note he sent a. friend with a
copy of Goetz de Berlichingen for Frederica
after his base desertion of her : " Poor
Frederica will be to some extent consoled
since the faithless one (of the drama) is
poisoned." G. H. Lewes, in his delightful
and radiant story of Goethe, says, I re-
member, that it was, after all, an honour
for Frederica to have been deserted by
Goethe. Certainly, her sorrow brought
her fame, if that could be any consolation
for a broken heart ; but it would be better
to love a shoeblack of decent feeling than
the Olympian monster who could write those
words to a third party fresh from the
tragedy of breaking a girl's heart.

On tie subject of his artificiality, M. Eod
writes of the Tasso :

" The real Tasso, bora at an im propitious
epoch, ill at ease in his surromidings, the victim
ot dangerous suspicion, was nevertheless a
great poet, but already an artificial poet;
Goethe's Tasso, product of an imagination
fixed in certain prejudices by a despotic Intel-

158

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

ligence, remains a great poet, but still more
artificial."

Each work here is dissected in an agreeable
form. M. Eod's style lacks charm and dis-
tinction, but the nature revealed in his
work is always sympathetic by reason of
simplicity, directness, absolute sincerity.
He has no humour, no irony, no delicacy
of touch. But he has originality ; he
thinks for himself, thinks deeply and
thinks well. In this study of a great
European legend, of a great literary monu-
ment, he makes no effort to fascinate us by
false brilliancy, or to captivate us by a
personal charm. He simply and truthfully
concerns himself with the subject of his
study, and produces a book that is well
worth reading, and is as usefid as it is in-
teresting. His feeling for common humanity
opposed to the privileged few is fine and
generous. Writing of the contradictory
elements of Faust, he says :

"A work which contains the thought of an
entire life could not enclose itself in a system,
nor represent a single face of truth ; necessarily
it is midtiple and contradictory as are ever
great minds that reflect the spectacle of things,
the microcosms that reproduce the changing
images of the world in movement."

M. Augustin Filon has written a French
version of the English novel, which is not
without interest as a curious adaptation of
our second-rate style and manner. M. Filon
knows his London, and has rendered well
the squalid and dreary atmosjihere of
Bloomsbury. Not possessing any special
talent, utterly without distinction or ori-
ginality, he has been able to achieve what
a better French writer would never have
attempted — a dull, middle - class English
novel, without structure, without a notion
of composition, with all the flaring faults
of the flippant English novel. M. Filon's
own taste in fiction may be measured by
his assertion in the Revue des Deux Mondes —
where many a strange thing is asserted on
the question of foreign literature — that the
noblest work of fiction of modern times is
The Woman Who Did. A critic of the
English drama and the English novel in
this state of mind is a creature to be
wondered at and sorrowed over. But we
see at once how admirably adapted he is,
by taste and temperament, to write a second-
rate, diffuse, and preposterous English
novel, airing threadbare views, revealing
a kindly insignificant individuality, with
just enough interest of a kind to "go
down." " Down," indeed, Bahel is sure
to go with the people who like that sort
of thing: the disinterested and noble German
Freethinker and Socialist who eradicates
two horrid little gutter-sparrows of Blooms-
bury in accordance with his peculiar views
— a French boy and a Jewess — to find in
the end that both are monsters of selfishness.
Fides, the inhuman Jewess, probably gives
voice to M. Filon's own views upon Girton :

" Poor girls ! If you knew the trouble they
have to put into their brains a little of what
is in the brains of their brothers. They speak
of determinants, potentials, and read the Queen
and the Lady's Pictorial in private, and look in
their glass."

They might do worse. They might read
JJahel. H. L.

THE WEEK.

HISTOEY AND CITIZENSHIP.

AN eminent statesman said the other day
that the " spirit of unrest " was abroad
in the world. Historj' is being made at a
great rate in many lands. France, Germany,
Eussia, Greece, England, Canada — in all
these countries notable events are happen-
ing, have just happened, or seem about to
happen. And suddenly the flashing and
moving lights are reflected in the stream of
literature. This week works on history and
sociology leaven the publisher's lumjJ.

A more timely and important book than
Mr. J. E. C. Bodley's France could not have
arrived. Mr. Bodley has resided seven
years in France, and during that time he has
applied himself closely to the study of the
political condition of that country. The
residts of his inquiries are embodied in these
volumes. Mr. Bodley thus explains their
scope :

"The capital subject of these volumes is
Pohtical France after a century of Revolution.
The plan of the work needs little explanation.
The Introductory Chapter is not an essential
part of it, but it may be of utUity, as it contains
a description of the influences encountered by
a student of pubUc questions in France. The
relations of the great Revolution with modem
France are then CKamined, and this gives an
opportunity of a view of certain phases of
French life which would otherwise be neglected
in a pohtical treatise. The Executive and
Legislative Powers are the special matters
which form the basis of the remainder of the
work. Their operation under the regime which
has subsisted in France during the last quarter
of the nineteenth centmy leads to the study
of various conceptions which the French have
had, diuring a hundred years of political
experiment, of the functions of a Chief of the
State and of Parhamentary Institutions."

Mr. Bodley touches on the difficulty of
vouching for complete accuracy in a work of
this kind. In illustration of his point he
tells the following anecdote :

" There was a point of electoral jurisprudence
on which the text-books were obscure, and
though not of international importance, it is
interesting to students of comparative pro-
cedure ; so I wrote to a Deputy who is a
Parhamentary authority, to clear it up, and
incorporated his answer in my text. Later,
being invited by the experienced and intelligent
Mayor of a village to be present at a poll over
which he presided, I repeated the question to
him, and he gave a completely different reply.
Finally, I referred it to a Senator, and he
demonstrated so clearly that both the Deputy
and the Mayor were wrong, that I adopted his
version."

After France, Eussia. Prince Serge
Wolkonsky, who last year lectured on
Eussian history and literature before various
clubs and universities in the United States,
has gathered his addresses into a volume,
Russian History and Literature. The lecturer
knew the difficulty of expounding Eussian
history to audiences whose knowledge of
the subject was in the last degree slight
and fragmentary. His book, however, will
make a wider appeal, and supply a, more

real need, because of the limitations im-
posed on it by the public ignorance.

Two colonial books call for notice : A
History of Canada, by Mr. Charles G. D.
Eoberts, is a bulky octavo filled with
arranged and compressed information. Mr.
Eoberts, who is also known as a novelist,
was formerly Professor of Literature at
King's College, Windsor, Nova Scotia.
He divides the history of Canada into the
three periods of : " The French Dominion,"
" The Struggle for Eesponsible Govern-
ment," and "Canadian Dominion." Mr.
Eoberts opens his book in an eloquent
strain :

" The stage on which the drama of Canadian
History unfolds may seem to the world an
obscure one. A closer view, however, will
reveal that on this stage some of the gravest
problems of history have been pressed to a
solution; and we may reasonably expett to
find in this drama an answer to some of the
weightiest questions of modem pohtics.
Battles were fought on the Rhine, the Elbe,
the Danube ; German, Austrian, Spanish
thrones were shaken to their full ; navies
grappled in the Caribbean, and Mahratta
hordes were slaughtered on the rice fields of
India, to decide the struggle which ended only
upon the Plains of Abraham."

This is rather "purple," but it is the right
note for the historians of Canada to strike.

In his book, Life and Progress in Austra-
lasia, Mr. Michael Davitt sets down his
observations of the seven Australasian
colonies made during a seven months'
journey through them. His purpose is not
to write a history, but to interest his readers
in Australasia and its peoples. The book
runs to nearly five hundred closely printed
pages, and touches on an immense number
of subjects.

The fourth and concluding volume of
Mr. Frederick Clarke's translation of Adolf
Holm's History of Greece has just been
published.

A NEW edition of Mr. Benjamin Kidd's
Social Evolution, making the nineteentli
thousand of this important work, is issued
by Messrs. Macmillan.

E. V. Zenkeb's work on Anarchism has
been translated into English, and is issued by
Messrs. Methuen & Co. The author says
that the work grew out of the astonishment
he felt when he found how dim was the
understanding of Anarchism possessed by a
middle-class audience to whom he addressed
himself on the day of the bomb outrage in
the French Parliament. Zenker's attitude is
one of scientific hostility to Anarchism in its
violent forms. He admits he does not love
Anarchism, and he has the candour to
quote a remark which Elisee Eeclus
wrote to him by way of warning when
he undertook tiie work : " We cannot
understand what we do not love." Herr
Zenker admits that " Anarchists will simply
deny my capacity to write about their cause,
and call my book terribly reactionary." He
claims to be a coldly scientific and impartial
observer, and his hope is to advance the dis-

Feb. 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

159

cussion of the subject to a point at which,
the Anarchist will see fit to ahandon his
worst argument, the homb.

Among other works of historical or
political interest may be mentioned Ths
Diphmatists' Handhooh for Africa, by Coimt
Charles Kinsky; Ths Niger Sources, by
Lieut.-Col. J. K. Trotter, E.A. ; and The
Social Mind and Education, by George Edgar
Vincent, Professor of Sociology at Chicago
University.

NEW BOOKS EECEIVED.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.
CHM8TiAjf Ihstitutioks. By Alexander V. G. Allen, D.D.

T. & T. Clark. 13s.
Thb Bible Refebbkces op John Roskin. By Mary and

EUeu Gibbs. George Allen.
The Holt Bible. (Bversley Edition.) Vol. V. : Isaiah

TO Lamentations. Macmillan & Co. 66.

A HiSTOEY OP NOHTHUUBESLAND. Vol. IV. : HeiAMSHIKE :

Part U. By John Crawford Hodgson. Simpkin
Marshall.
The Gihilehess op Jesos, and Othee Seeuonb. By
Mark Guy Pearse. Horace Marshall & Son.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
Pictures op Rcssian Histoey and Russian Litekatdke.

By Prince Serge Wolokonsky. Kegan Paul.
Pbanoe. By John Edward Courtney Bodley. 2 vols.
A HiiTOBi- op Canada. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Kegan

Paul.
SiBVABi Olaee: One op Natcke's Noblemen. By

S. E. S. C. Balliere, Tindall & Cox.
The Lives op the Saints. By the Rev. S. Baring-Gould,

M.A. John C. Nimmo. Ss.
Social Houes with CELEBRiriES r being thb Tbibd and

FoDBiH Volumes op " Gossip op the Cbnicey." By

the late Mrs. W. Pitt Byrne. Edited by her Sister, Miss

R. H. Busk. Ward & Downey. 2 vols.
A Year pbom a Coeeespohdknt's Note-Book. By Richard

Hu-ding Davis, F.R.G.S. Harper & Brothers. 6s.
Thb Histoby op Gkeeoe. By Adolf Holm. In i vols.

Vol. IV. Macmillan & Co. 78. 6d.
Anabchisu; a Cbiticish and Histoey of the Anabchist

Tkeoby. By E. V. Zenker. Methuen & Co.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRES.

The Lay op The Nibelcnos. Metrically translated from

the Old German Text by Alice Horton, and edited by

Edward Bell, M.A. George BeU & Sons. 6s.
Temilb Waveeley Novels: Rob Roy. By Sir Walter

Scott. 2 vols. J. M. Dent & Co.
The Nineteenth Centcey in Fsanob: Selections peom

THE Best Modebn Fbench Litebaby Woeks, wrrn

English Tbanslations. By Paul Chauvel, Digby,

Long & Co.
1 Rats pbom the Staeey Host. By " Lucas a Non
, Lucendo." The Roxburghe Press.
Maeous Aubelius Antoninus to Himsilp. By Gerald H.

Rendall. Macmillan & Co.
Tkouqbts and Woeds. By Stephen Dowell. 3 vols.

Longmans, Green 4 Co. Sis. 6d.
SoKBs OP LovB AND Bmpibb. By B. Nesbit. Archibald

Constable & Co. 5s.
Ta» Unnamed Lake, and Othee Poems. By Frederick

George Scott. William Briggs (Toronto) .
The Temple Dkamatisis : the Teagical Reign op

Sblimus. Edited by Alexander B. Grosait. J. M.

Dent & Co. Is.
The Teagedt of Coeiolanus. Edited by Edmund K.

Chambers. Blackie & Son.

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

Life and Pboseess in Ausiealasia. By Michael Davitt,
M.P. Methien & Co.

EDUCATIONAL.
A Manual op Pebnch Peose Conbteuciion. By J. G.
Anderson, B.A. Blackie & Son. Ss. Elementabt
Phtbics. By John G. Kerr, M.A. Blackie & Son. Is. Od.
Paeables poe School and Home. By Wendell P.
Garrison. Longmans, Green Sl jjo. (New York). A

DICTIONAEY OP the FeBNCH AND ENGLISH LaNOUAGKS.

By F. E. A. Gase. George Bell 4 Sous. Via. (kl.

THE BOOK MARKET.

QUO VADIS? IN AMEEICA.

We quote below returns of the best-selling
books in six large cities of the States,
gathered by the American Bookman. It
will be seen that the extraordinary popu-
larity of Quo Vadis '^ continues. This novel
is named in nearly all the Bookman's lists, and
it still heads many. The vogue of the book
is such that it is probably more talked about
than read — which is the surest sign that
it is read a great deal. We are drawn to
this conclusion by reading a " Literary Con-
versation " which appears in the current
Century Magazine. Miss Arabella Morris
and Miss Catherine Harlem are two-days'
old acquaintances at a hotel ; and their con-
versation soon takes this turn :
" ' Do you like historical novels ? '
' I like Miss Yonge ever so much.'
' I don't mean that kind. I mean those
new foreign books — like Quo Vadis? for
instance ? '

' Oh, yes. You mean by Henryk Sien-
kiewicz — if that's his name. I never feel
quite sure of those foreign names. It
was the longest time before I could get
Paderewski's name right.'

' Dear Paddy ! — wasn't he just divine ! '
' Wasn't he ! Why, I know girls who
kept his photograph just wreathed in fresh
flowers every day.'

' So do I. But one never cares so much
about authors as about musicians. I wonder
why?'

'Well, it's different. Now, this Sien-
kiewicz — what does he look like ? '

'Why, he's the image of my Uncle
Charlie. But — there! — ^you don't know
Uncle Charlie, do you ? No matter ; he is
very dashing, you know — sort of military.'

' It is wonderful how men can think of
such things. Just imagine all that about
Nero, and the Hens, and the martyrs, and
the early Christians, and catacombs, and
things — why, it makes my head ache to
think of a man's knowing so much. How
do you suppose they do it ? '

' I suppose it is their business — the same
as anything else. Then there are g^eat
libraries ; there are tons of books about
things in them — miles of shelves full.'

' Yes ; but how can Sienkiewicz know just
when to make them say the things they do
say?'

'I'm sure I don't know. And yet he
seems to bring it all before you so, just as if
you saw it. Those scenes in the arena must
have been blood-curdling.'

' Exciting, too. That chariot-race in
Ben Mur, they say, was as real as if you
were there.'

'I don't think there has been anything
better than that.'

' Not even in Quo Vadis ? '
' I don't know, really. Of course, that is
a translation, you know, and a translation
can't be the same as the original.'

' No ; I notice that in all the Frencli
books ; and it must be harder to translate
from such a tongue as the German.'
' Why from the German ? '
' How do you moan ? '

' I mean, such a book as Quo Vadis ? '

' But Quo Vadis ? isn't a translation from
the German.'

' What is it then ? — ^Norweg^ian ? '

' No, my dear ; it is from the Polish.'

' Are you sure ? '

' Or Hungarian. Anyway, it is in some
of the languages nobody knows. I don't
remember for certain. Maybe it is Austrian.
But I know it wasn't German.'

' Well, I don't exactly remember — for I
haven't read it.'

' Haven't you ? Why, I thought from
the way you spoke that you knew all about
it. You quite scared me with your know-
ledge.'

' Scared you ? Why — haven't you read
it either ? '

'Not yet.'"

In the following lists, the books
placed in order of their popidarity :

NEW YORK, DOWNTOWN.

1. Quo Vadis? By Sienkiewicz.

2. Hugh Wynne. By Mitchell.

3. Captains Courageous. By Kipling.

4. Story of an Untold Love. By Ford.

5. The Choir Invisible. By AUen.

6. Free to Serve. By Eayner.

BOSTON, MASS.

1. Quo Vadis ? By Sienkiewicz.

2. Hugh Wynne. By Mitchell.

3. Alfred, Lord Tennyson. By His Son.

4. Farthest North. By Nansen.

5. Harvard Episodes. By Flandrau

6. Free to Serve. By Eayner.

CHICAGO, ILL.

1. Quo Vadis ? By Sienkiewicz.

2. The Choir Invisible. By Alleu.

3. The Christian. By Caine.

4. Hueh Wynne. By Mitchell.

5. A World Pilgrimage. By Barrows.

6. Eubaiyat of Doc Sifers. By Eiley.

CINCINNATI, O.

Quo Vadis ? By Sienkiewicz.

The Choir Invisible. By Allen.

The Kentuckians. By Fox.

Hugh Wynne. By Mitchell.

In Kedar's Tents. By Merriman.

The Story of Jesus Christ. By Phelps.

CLEVELAND, O.

1 . Quo Vadis ? By Sienkiewicz.

2. The Choir Invisible. By Allen.

3. The Honourable Peter Stirling. By Ford.

4. Hugh Wynne. By Mitchell.

5. The Christian. By Caine.

6. Lochinvar. By Crockett.

PHILADELPHIA, PA.

Hugh Wynne. By Mitchell.
Quo Vadis ? By Sienkiewicz.
Lochinvar. By Crockett.
Old Virginia. By Fiske.
Corleone. By Crawford.
Equahty. By Bellamy,

THE STATE OF THE BOOK TRADE.

A Country Bookseller's Views.

We have received the following interesting
communication from a bookseller in a quiot
sea-side town. It reflects his opinions, and

160

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

echoes the discontent which has lately found
expression in our columns. We give the
letter as the unsolicited, personal view of a
correspondent.

" To love books is one thing, but to sell
theni is another. The truly great books
seem to offer mild reproaches for their
imprisonment on my shelves. Often I
wonder whether residents in seaside resorts
ever realise that they require the wisdom
and joy only to be found in the classics.
Judging by my experience as a bookseller,
I am forced into the contrary opinion. The
stress and tumult of modern civilisation
seemingly has not here awakened any
cravings for the companionship of the im-
mortals. They are unacknowledged and
slighted — those mighty intellects, who,
amid the noisy scuffle of the present day,
can impart to the loving reader the hush
of the remote region in which they worked.

Circulating libraries abound, and mili-
tate against the sale even of the ' boomed '
novelists. A year ago I bought the
standard edition of a novelist resident in
the neighbourhood, but up to the present
only two copies have been sold. Booksellers
are accustoming themselves to the cheap
and nastily got-up books now sold by
drapers. A greater surprise than this has
been provided for the trade in this town
during the past few months. Not long ago
a large draper here sold quantities of paper-
covered novels, bearing the imprint of a
well-known firm of publishers. These books
were sold at about one-sixth of their pub-
lished price. It has lately been brought to my
notice that another publishing house, dealing
principally in semi-religious fiction, has
appointed a large firm of general dealers
as their agent. Drapers, therefore, can now
buy these books almost on the same terms
as the trade. The selling price of these
books has been left to the discretion of the
trade, who have endeavoured to recuperate
themselves from this source as a partial
set-off against the small discounts allowed
by other firms. Drapers will, of course,
sell this line at a much lower price.

May I mildly suggest that booksellers do
not care to be cofiined before they are dead,
thus diverting custom to those gentlemen
who drive in the nails ?

Seemingly, bookselling pure and simple
is doomed in the provinces. Tnimpery
ornaments and fancy goods are now taking
the room once sacred as the home of books,
for they yield a better profit. Truly, men
cannot live on their personal love of books.
The publishers seem indisposed or unable
to render effectual assistance. Cannot the
booksellers help themselves? What ob-
stacles prevent the trade from combining
into a company with their owa printing
offices, thus enabling them to deal direct
with the authors ? Good and popular books
could thus be produced and sold at a living
profit to the members of the company.
Buying their own materials and ignoring
the publishers altogether, they could, I
believe, put books on the market which,
for cheapness and excellence, would excel
all others, and, at the same time, revive the
languishing condition of the trade.

Cimljination and amalgamation during

the past few years have been the ruling
features of commerce. Nearly every other
trade but bookselling has recognised the
weakness of units and the might of
numbers in combination. Why should the
trade lag behind ? "

CORRESPONDENCE.

SOME REMARKS ON
CiESAR."

JULIUS

Sir, — Mr. Tree's " Julius Ccesar " is a
triumph of actor-management. It is also, in
my humble opinion, a grievous insult to
Shakespeare. Shakespeare wrote a play of
which the central character was an idealised
Brutus. It was the story of how a noble-
minded Roman, partly from a traditional
worship of " Liberty," partly through being
worked upon by astute plotters like Cassius,
took the life of Julius Ca3sar. How for a few
hoiu-8 it looked as if aU were going well with
him and his fellow-conspirators, until the fiery
Antony, by a successful appeal to the greed of
the mob, turned the tables on them so that
they fled from Rome, only to fall at Philippi
under the avenging swords of Antony and
CiBsar's nephew Octavius. That is the play as
Shakespeare —a considerable dramatist after all
— conceived it. Here it is as Mr. Tree con-
ceives it :

There was a Roman named Antony, who
was au intimate friend of Csesar, wore a
distinctive costume, and always stood in the
middle of the stage. When Caesar was killed
he came into the Senate-house and made a
speech over the body. He was left making
faaial contortions over it when the curtain fell.
After CsBsar's death this Antony made a gi'eat
speech in the Forum, and was loyally cheered
by a splendidly drilled crowd of supers, as au
actor-manager should be. He subsequently
hurled defiance at the conspirators on the
plains— or hiUs — of Philippi, and delivered a
famous speech over the body of Brutus. And
that's all.

It is hardly wonderful after this that the
dramatic critic of the Standard ehould have
complained pathetically that " the play really,
to tdl intents and purposes, ended with the
winning over of the mob by the pleading of
Antony" ; and that the quarrel scene in Brutus's
tent — one of the most famous scenes in Shake-
peare — which is at present retained in the Her
Majesty's acting version, is not "of the very
faintest concern " to the audience ! Was I not
right, then, in saying that the new "Julius
CfiBsar" is a triumph of actor-management?
Mr. Tree has seized his opportunity of focussing
the attention of the house upon himself, and
the play is left in ruins.

Now the question is, is this what the play-
gomg public want ? Do they go to Her
Majesty's to see Shakespeare's " JuUus Ciesar "
or to see Mr. Tree ? If the former, then the
present performance is an unqualified failure,
for the whole proportions of the play are
spoiled by the present arrangement, a relatively
minor character is thrust violently into the
front place, and the action of the drama
becomes incoherent. Any performance of
" Julius Cassar " which impressed a leading
dramatic critic with the opinion that the tent
scene between Brutus and Cassius was super-
fluous, a,nd was not of the faintest concern to
the audience, stands condemned on the face of
it. If Mr. Tree was bent on playing the
principal part at his own theatre, he should
have played Brutus. But I imagine that he
could not make up his mind to let anyone

else deliver Antony's oration. If this is so,
the only course for him was to become a
sort of Shakespearean Prisoner of Zenda, double
the roles of Brutus and Antony, deUver both
orations in the Forum, and after IdUing himself
(as Brutus) in act v., get up and make the last
speech (as Antony) over his own body.
Perhaps Mr. Tree will try this arrangement at
a special matinee ?

But it is not the purpose of this letter to
scoff at Mr. Tree, and I can even admire the
ingenuity with which he has arranged the acts
in his production, so that at the fall of the
curtain he may always be, so to speak, in
possession of the house. It is the privilege
of the actor-manager, apparently, always to
have the last word. My purpose is rather to
point out the sorrowful fact that "Julius
Ca3sar" is unsuited for modem professional
representation. It should only be played by-
amateurs. Almost every line in the play is
pure poetry. This is true even of the speeches
of the minor characters. The ftdl value of this
poetry can only be brought out by actors
who think of their Unes more than of them-
selves. How many such are there on the
London stage to-day? Your professional
actor will not ' ' leave his damnable faces and
begin " to speak his lines in a straightforward
manner. He must gulp and snivel and " put
tears into his voice," and employ all the other
tricks which spoil the rhythm of blank verse.
He overloads his production with set scenes,
and lengthens it out with tiresome artifices
such as the red roses at which poor Mr. Fulton
has to grimace at Her Majesty's nightly. And
then half a dozen scenes are cut out in order to
prevent the play from being unduly long!
Every possible effort is made to distract iJe
attention of the audience from the verse to the
actor. Aud the verse of " Julius Coosar " is too
good for this fooling. The result of all this is
that Mr. Tree's production, in my opinion, in
spite of the money and ingenuity and taste that he
has lavished upon it, is nothing like so effective
as the performance given by amateurs at Oxford
in 1889, with Mr. Bourchier as Brutus and Mr.
Holman Clarke as Cassius. The mounting on
that occasion was comparatively simple, though
then also Mr. Alma Tadema designed the
scenery and costumes, if I remember right.
The play was played through as it is printed,
with practically no editing and no " cuts," and it
lasted only some three hours. At Her Majesty's,
when I saw it, in spite of numerous " cuts,"
it lasted three hours and a half, while the noise
of " setting " the heavy scenery behind (with a
view to reducing the " waits ") spoiled some of
the finest scenes, notably that in Brutus' orchard,
which was given to the accompaniment of the
muffled thunders of scene-shifting.

How, then, should " JuhusCajsar," be played?
The first point is, that nothinf/ should be per-
mitted to interfere with the value of the verse.
The educated amateur who appreciates blank
verse and loves the play will speak it better
than any professional actor we have. Again,
an agreeable voice, a cultivated intonation is
absolutely essential for every actor in the cast
who has to speak blank verse. The high-
pitched cockney twang is impossible in " JuUus
Csesar." The play must be given entire, as it is
written. Only so will it be intelligible and
convincing to the audience. It is not a miracle
of construction, but it tells its story clearly
enough when actor-managers allow it to do so
and do not cut out the other fellow's lines.
The time that would be occupied by these dis-
carded scenes and lines would be more than
made up if all the unnecessary posturing
and grimacing over blood - red roses and
Caesar s body were left out. What business
has Calpm-nia in the Senate-house at the end
of Her Majesty's first act? The only actor in
the present production who shows any pnrcep-

Feb, 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

161

tion whatever of how to play seems to me to
be Mr. Waller. His Brutus is at times quite
admirable. This emboldens me to urge him
to reconsider his rendering of a famous
passage. Brutus is a Stoic. It is his creed
to repress all outward emotion. In the tent
scene his stoicism breaks down, and he calls
Cassius names, and Mr. "Waller did this excel-
lently. With such a Cassius, indeed, it must
have been easy. I did it myself, and I hope
sincerely that " it is impossible that ever Rome
shall breed his fellow." But, after the recon-
ciliation, Brutus must regain his Stoic self-
command. Shakespeare realised this, and his
Brutus says in a low, repressed tone —

" No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead."

Mr. Waller says — " Portia (sob) is (sob)
d-d-d-d-ead," and, in very deed, " makes no
use of his philosophy." In the same way it is
ridiculous for Brutus to snort and gulp over
the details of Portia's end. He tells them (in
Shakespeare) in the baldest, briefest form, aud
his tone is an even, monotonous level.

" Impatient of my absence.
And grief that young Octavius with Mark

Antony
Have made themselves so strong ; for with

her death
That tidings came ; with this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallowed lire."

Mr. Waller's elaborate shudder over the
announcement spoils an impressive situation.
Cassius — and the audience — may be trusted to
do the shuddering if the lines are properly
delivered. St. John Hankix.

EOBEET FEEGUSSON.

Sir, — With reference to the notice, in the
Academy of 22nd ult., of my new Life of
Robert Fergusson, I have no thoiight or
wish to traverse either your reviewer's
singular allegation of lack of judgment on
my part because I have traced (for the
first time) his paternal and maternal descent,
or his purely imaginary "demerits" that
I have not taken pains to reproduce the
environment of the poet, and reconstruct
the Edinburgh and St. Andrew's of 150
years ago. I am perfectly willing to
leave tlie book to speak for itself on these
matters, confident that the man who cannot
actualise to himself the conditions of Eobert
Fergusson's brief life from my abundant
data will be pronounced by every capable
and impartial reader to be a dunderpate,
or 80 hurried and perfunctory in his reading
of the relative chapters as to bewray mere
dipping here and there.

But whilst overpassing these things, I
respectfully claim leave, at once and abso-
lutely, to challenge a very much more
serious thing. Your reviewer says, as
within his personal knowledge: "E. L.
Stevenson had abundant reasons for the
terms ' drunken ' and ' vicious.' " It surely
is not asking too much that these "abundant
reasons " be produced. For, certes, not only
.did Stevenson himself never give one scintilla
jof proof or authority for his monstrous
jaccusations, but, when questioned, could
[give nothing more than Dr. David Irving's
[mendacities, of "dissoluteness" and "disso-
lute associates" and "habitual dissipation"
—mendacities that were at once squelched by
the venerable Edinburgh citizen, Thomas
jSommers (18C4), and his testimony from

intimate knowledge, since confirmed by
witness upon witness, as my book shows.

More than that — as Stevenson applies
identically the same terms of "drunken"
and "vicious" to himself — I ask your
reviewer, are we expected to credit such
morbid self - condemnation ? I, for one,
must decline. Alike in relation to Fergusson
and himself, Stevenson was blazingly rash
of speech. Nor does this stand alone. His
sorely-repented-of Essay on Bums abides
as a sad monumental evidence of how apt
he was to leap at conclusions, and to put
things exaggeratedly and, so, falsely. It
is heart-breaking to me to feel compelled
thus to write of one I loved, and whose
memory I cherish. I hold among my
literary treasures a long, closely written,
and extremely remarkable letter to myself,
that was meant to herald others on our
Scottish poets. But, alas ! wlien it reached
me its writer was gone. I am very far,
therefore, from wishing to say one harsh
word of this fine spirit, this Scot of Scots.
But speaking from fullest personal know-
ledge, after investigations carried on for
long years, I declare solemnly that neither
had Stevenson nor any other one atom of
ground for charging Fergusson with being
" vicious." As for the " drunken," I have,
indeed, written ill if I have not satisfied the
readers of my book that, in his giving " a
slice of his constitution " (Burns's phrase),
he was victim of the ways of the time, and
deserves supremest pity, not detestable
moralising; while to allege that "love"
was absent from the life of one who was
so lovable and full of love, tenderness and
sweetness, by universal testimony, is no
less stupid than false.

It is all very well to tell me I am " con-
troversial"; but finding the vii-m of Irving's
poisonous chatter working everywhere —
alike in British, German, French, Italian
biographical dictionaries and elsewhere —
how could I be other than fired to expose
and, having exposed, to denounce ? Easy,
too, to bring together the several places
wherein I so expose and denounce, and
thus convey the idea that the book consists
of gratuitous controversy ; but let each be
taken in its place, and I particularly affirm
each will be found warranted by the facts.

For " puir Bobbie's sake," I am glad of
the warm welcome being given to my book,
and, as an old contributor to the Academy,
I feel sure I shall not appeal in vain for
righteous and clement judgment of him.
Alexander B. Geosabt.
Dublin : Jan. 25, 1898.

" Mrs. Eawdon was obliged to lay down the
title which she had prematurely assumed."

Again, the book : " Colonel Eawdon
Crawley died . . . six weeks before the
demise of his brother." The letter: "Colonel
Crawley . . . had died of fever three
months before his brother."

And in particular, the book : " All his
(Jos.'s) available assets were the two thou-
sand pounds for which his life was insured,"
of which Becky only got half. And the
letter : " The late Jos. SecUey, Esq. . . .
loft her two lakhs of rupees."

I saw in one of the papers that Messrs.
Smith, Elder & Co. intended publishing the
letter at the end of the book. I hope they
win reconsider this decision. — ^Yours truly,

Jan. 30, 1898. Thos. H. Teery.

BECKY SHAEP— AFTEE.

Sir, — I do not think you can have
referred to the last chapter of Vanity Fair
before quoting the portion of Thackeray's
letter in your current issue or you would
have called attention to the fact that it does
not really carry matters any further, and
contradicts some of the statements in the
book.

For instance, the book says : " She
(Becky) never was Lady Crawley, though
she continued so to call herself." The letter:

"A BENEDICTINE MAETYE IN
ENGLAND."

SiE, — ■! should be very grateful if you
would allow me space to give an explanation
of a passage in my book, A Benedictine
Martyr in England, to which your reviewer
lias taken exception. I do this in no
captious spirit, but I think that the point is
one which merits elucidation. I had said,
speaking of the process of beatification of
the English martyrs now going on at Eome,
that as it was impossible to prove the
requisite number of miracles for each
member of a band of over three hundred
martyrs, it was desirable to invoke them in
a body, so that the miracle, if granted,
might serve for the cause of the beatification
of all.

Now I can well understand that this whole
matter may seem very ridiculous to a nou-
Oatholic who does not believe in miracles at
all ; but granted the two facts that miracles
are required at Eome for canonisations, and
that those brought forward as evidence of
sanctity are submitted to the most rigorous
and searching examination before they are
accepted (and these are facts that no compe-
tent person will deny), I cannot see what
there was either immoral or ridiculous in my
remark. Your critic says, however :

"But, let alone the ethics of this proceeding,
does Dom Camm really suppose that the Pope
will bo unable to determine which of the
candidates it was that actually answered to this
general invocation ? "

I allow. Sir, that T cannot understand the
drift of this remark, though tlmt may be
owing to my " very extraordinary condition
of intellect." But I suppose your reviewer
thinks it unfair to ask the prayei's of more
than one martyr at a time, for he assumes
that all wiU get the credit for the grace
which has been really granted through one
or few. But if all were not worthy of canon-
isation, I assume that God would not grant
the grace in such a manner as to conduce to
that end. For if it were not His will that
all should be thus honoured, no doubt He
would either not grant it at all, or, at any rate,
would not allow it to be used as a proof of
the heroic sanctity of those invoked.

As to the Pope's supposed superhuman
powers, your reviewer really staggers
me ! Does he really suppose that I, or any

162

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

other Catholic, believe that the Pope is
inspired ? For if a miracle was granted in
answer to a general invocation, the Pope
could certainly not decide if one or other of
the candidates alone obtained the grace,
even by a special revelation of a most
extraordinary kind. No Catholic believes
that the Pope has this kind of power ; aU
we believe is, that when deciding questions
of faith and morals, as doctor or teacher of
the Universal Church, he is preserved by the
Divine assistance from falling into error.
This is a very different matter.

Please excuse my prolixity, and receive
my best thanks.- — I am, Sir, yours, &c.,

Bede Camm, O.S.B.

St. Thomas's Abbey, Erdington.

[Dom Camm proposed that the martyrs in
question should be invoked collectively, in
order to get over the imj)Ossibility of proving
the requisite number of miracles for each
member of the band individually. Now this
impossibility could only exist, should the
prayers of some of them be inefficacious :
were they all efficacious, it would be as easy
to prove over three hundred miracles, or
whatever the number required may be, as
one. Therefore I thought, and think, that
the proposal to obscure the individual issues
by a collective invocation was a bit of shady
ethics. I also suggested that it would prob-
ably be futile. And now I observe that
Dom Camm, changing his ground, practically
admits this. For he says that a miracle so
obtained would not be allowed to serve as a
proof of the heroic sanctity of anyone not
reaUy worthy of the honour of beatification.
That is precisely what I hinted ; and if so,
what end does the general invocation serve,
which could not be served without it ? I did
not say that the Pope was inspired, or that
I thought that Dom Camm thought he was
inspired : let it be that "he is preserved by
the Divine assistance from falling into error" ;
that is enough for my argument. To
beatify a martj'r on the ground of a
miracle which his prayers had had no share
in securing would surely be an error ; and
whether it be so technically or not, the
question whether a particular dead person
is to be regarded as in a state of beatifica-
tion is essentially a question of faith. Biit
if Dom Camm means that God would inter-
vene to prevent heroic sanctity being as-
cribed to the unworthy in some other way
than through the decision of the Pope in a
cause of beatification, then in what way ?
— The Eeviewer.]

TEANSLATOE AND CEITIC.

Sir, — Even experts, and I make no
doubt that the reviewer of Vol. II. of the
translation of Eatzel's History of Mankind in
your issue of January 15 is an expert,
should make quite sure before criticising
details that they have mastered a writer's
view of his subject. Tour reviewer is not
unnaturally surprised to find America spoken
of as "the East," on p. 10. If he had
read the opening chapter of the work he
would have seen that Prof. Eatzel regards
the Atlantic Ocean as being, for ethno-
graphical purposes, the great dividing

barrier, and consequently makes the Ameri-
can continent the most easterly seat of man-
kind. Strange as it may seem to us in
England, America really is east of some-
where. East is, therefore, not a mistake
for west here; nor is it on p. 260. On
p. 246, on the other hand, west is a suffi-
ciently obvious misprint for east.

I can assure your reviewer that " Wied "
and not "Neuwied" is, and always has
been, the title of the princely family to
which the eminent explorer belongs. In a
well-known German work published at
Coblenz, I find " Die Fiirstin von Wied,"
"ein fiirstl. Wiedsches Lustschloss," and
so on. Neuwied, known to English travel-
lers on the Ehine, is the capital of the
principality.

As to Monbuttu or Mangbattu, I can only
say that though I am not an ethnologist
myself, I have some such among my friends,
and it was by one of the most distinguished
among these that I was told to write Mon-
buttu. In the case of an unwritten language
it seems somewhat absurd to speak of the
" proper " form of a word. Schweinfurth,
I presume, heard Monbuttu, Junker some-
thing that he renders by Mangbattu — a
combination of letters, by the way, indi-
cating in German a sound for which we in
England should have to write " Mank-
pattu," or thereabouts.

As to your criticism of my English, I
must admit that while some of the phrases
you demur to are perfectly correct, and
seem to me adapted to convey the desired
meaning to the most obtuse of readers,
others (including a good many that you do
not quote) are terribly clumsy. To this,
as well as to your remark about " erroneous
statements," I can only say that I did not
undertake to re-write Prof. Eatzel's work.
In a science, too, of which many of the
technical terms employed by English writers,
as it is, are merely bald translations from
the German, I did not feel any particular
caU to improve the vocabulary. — Yours
faithfully, A. J. Butler.

Wood End, Weybridge.

[No doubt America " really is east of
somewhere," but for the ordinary reader
it lies west of England. After Junker's
explicit statement Monbuttu should not be
revived, at least without a warning note
{Travels, Keane's English ed., ii., p. 254).
Nor need Mangbattu be transliterated Mank-
pattu any more than Monbuttu, Monputttt.
The German traveller's full name is Maxi-
milian von Wied-Neuivied, as on the title-page
of his Reise nach Brasilien, 3 vols., Frank-
fort-a-M., 1820). "Of Wied" never could
be right, von being here a part of the title,
and this title is territorial, derived both
from Wied and Netiwied, which is a district
as well as a " capital." It has always
formed part of the title when given in fuU.
The " remarks " about " erroneous state-
ments " were fully borne out by references
toChimus, Dakotas, Yakuts, &c., &c., which
should have been corrected by the translator,
because here and there he does essay to
control the original. Of course "a good
many " of the un-English phrases were
necessarily excluded from the list given. —
Yoim Eeviewer.]

EDUCATION FOE THE CIVIL
SEEVICE IN INDIA.

Sir, — In the Academy of January 29, 1 898,
pp. 134-5, there were two letters in answer
to my communication of January 22.

To the first of these letters, written, as it
is, with courtesy and fairness, I have no
urgent reasons to reply.

To the second I take exceptions which
might be even serious did I take the letter
au serieux. That second correspondent claims
to know exactly and positively that " Mr.
Wren makes no pretence of ' educating '
anybody." I want the correspondent to
understand that I do make a pretence, and
a very serious one, of "educating" the
minds of such pupils as Mr. Wren desires
me to teach constitutional and political
history. If such a claim be "preposterous,"
then I am glad to inform the correspondent
that I do really entertain such a preposterous
claim. People do vary in their ways of
being preposterous, do they not ? — Yours
faithfully, Emil Eeich.

BACCHYLIDES.

Sir, — I am indebted to Miss Jane
Harrison, whose identity it was not easy to
discover under the form which the printer
unfortunately gave to her signature, for
calling my attention to M. Jules Nicole's
pamphlet. I had, however, already seen it,
and as it only contains an additional
eighty-nine lines of the Georgos to add to
the twenty-seven which we already possessed,
I must admit that it leaves me still desirous
for a complete play of Menander. I do not
even know that I can exactly call myself
" a lover of Menander," for it is difficult to
be very ardent about anyone who leads
such a fragmentary existence ; but I should
certainly like a chance of adding him to
the number of my friends. I hope that
these remarks wiU not be thought "airy"
in the serious boudoirs of the Sesame Club,
and am, — Yours faithfully.

The Eeviewbr.

BOOK EEVIEW8 EEVIEWED.

"inth" '^'^^ reviews of Mrs. Steel's
Permanent book clash and dovetail in .a
othTr'-slo^Si." curiously interesting manner.
Bj Flora We start with the JJatly
Annie Steel. Qf^^g^jgi^^ ^high quotes a state-
ment by Mr. W. D. HoweUs, that EngUsh
writers "are beginning to do some short
stories ; our people, on the other hand," &c.
" A good beginning," at all events, is the
Chronicle's answer, and for proof — this book.

"There are eighteen examples of the short
story, all marked by that happy, vivid art of
story-telling which Mrs. Steel has at command,
and all distinguished by the facile and skiUed
manipulation of the raw staple and material
which places the writer among the exemplars
of the craft."
In classifying the stories, this critic says :

"Lastly, we have certain others, like the
admirable example that supplies the btle,
which are short stories of unimpeachable

Feb. 5, 1898."

THE ACADEMY.

163

orthodoxy — stories that satisfy the whole law
and cauon of the art, stories that even ' our
people ' — the countrymen of Mr. Howells —
might not disdain to have produced, and
will, we undertake, read with enjoyment, and
possibly— for we are of a sanp^uine habit — with
profit."

The Saturday Review takes quite another
line. This critic sees Mrs. Steel through
Kipling spectacles, and sees her stature
diminished thereby :

" With a surprising pertinacity, Mrs. Steele
still endeavours to compete with Mr. Kipling
on his own peculiar ground. . . . "With no
uncertain gesture, Mrs. Steel herself indicates
the standard by which she must be tried. For
it is one thing to follow a pioneer upon the
road he opens — none may be blamed for doing
so ; but it is another business when one artist
deliberately selects another's motive for his own
treatment. Everyone has a perfect right to do
so, of course ; only, if the performance falls
short, the conveyance comes to be judged as
theft. Mrs. Steel, having duly absorbed ' The
Mark of the Beast ' and the ' Mowgli ' stories,
"lects to write ' The Blue-throated God,' and
tbe result is a series of variations, producing an
effect of confusion, woven about another's
theme. Mr. Kipling invented a good thing,
and called it ' "Without Benefit of Clergy.' Mrs.
Steel reads it, and presently she writes ' On
the Second Story,' which is a good enough
story, but not a masterpiece. Mr. Kipling
presents hard-handed England in India as none
other has done, and Mrs. Steel, perceiving a
curious mirage of the same objective, gives us
such conventional anomalies as the soldier in
' At the Great Durbar,' and Craddock the
engineer in ' In the Permanent "Way ' and ' The
King's "Well.' "

The Times associates Mrs. Steel with Mr.
Kipling in a kindUer manner :

" Comparison, though so favourite a form of
criticism, is always odious, but in one particu-
lar at least we venture to think the gentleman
has the advantage of the lady. In his pictures
in black and white he does not give us too much
of the tar-brush ; whereas Mrs. Steel is not so
careful in this matter. This is most noticeable
in her last book, In the Permanent Way, where
the stories are so taken up with the native that
the settler is almost neglected. This seems
liard since he alone will read them. The fact
is, that the stories of the East without some-
thing "Western in them are, like water without
the whisky, a little insipid."

The Spectator makes much the same dis-
tinction, but in a still more complimentary
way:

" "While her only rival in this field of fiction
is Mr. Kipling, her work, if it lacks his vivid
virility of style, is marked by an even subtler
appreciation of the Oriental standpoint— both
ethical and religious — a more exhaustive ac-
jjuaintanee with native life in its domestic and
jindoor aspects, and a deeper sense of the moral
psponsibilities attaching to our rule in the
[East. Indeed, if Mrs. Steel shows any par-
biality, it is not towards "Western modes of
thought."

The Daily TelegrapKs critic notes the pre-
railing mood of Mrs. Steel's stories :

" Of all the stories in Mrs. F. A. Steel's new
)ook there is hardly one that does not end in
ragic fashiou. The book is not a sad one, for
t is pervaded by the authoress's own keen

umoiur ; nevertheless, it is full to overflowing
ath the pain and mystery of life, with per-

loied and tangled questions, which press in

vain for an answer. luoia, Mrs. Sieei seems to
say, can cei-tainly not expect a solution of the
problems which oppress her from the narrow
creed of her alien masters, official even in their
religion ; the thronging crowd of her own
deities is dumb, and even the great faith of
Mahomet has nothing better to offer than a
certain fierce resignation. It is curious to
observe how, in spite of this deep - rooted
scepticism, the predominant interest of these
stories is in the main religious."

' The Greiit

Mr. Conrad's

TheNiKKerof — reviewing

iheNarcissns." book, the Speaker says that Mr.

By Joseph
Conrad.

Crane'siZ^rf Badge of Courage has
much to answer for.

" That remarkable feat of the imagination
has inspired a whole school of descriptive
writers of a new class, who aspire to make
visible to us the inside of great scenes — -battle-
fields, shipwrecks, moving incidents of every
kind. Mr. Conrad, who has given us more than
one remarkable study of Eastern life, has now
followed in the footsteps of Mr. Stephen Crane,
and in The Nigger of the Narcissus has painted
for us a picture of sea-life as it is lived in storm
and sunshine on a merchant- ship, which in its
vividness, its emphasis, and its extraordinary
fulness of detail, is a worthy pendant to the
battle-picture presented to us in The Red Badge
of Courage."

The critic points out that there is no plot
in the story, that the nigger is of little
importance in the tale, and that what gives its
character to the book is the account of the
great storm in which the Nareissux is all but
lost.

""Whether it be a true one or not, none can
say who have not passed through such a scene.
But it leaks like the truth ; and to have painted
it in such a fashion that its vivid colouring
bites into the mind of the spectator is a very
notable achievement."

The Daily TelegrapK'g critic also associates
Mr. Conrad's tale with Tfie Red Badge of
Courage :

" The style, though a good deal better than
Mr. Crane's has the same jerky and spasmodic
quality ; while a spirit of faithful and minute
description — even to the verge of the wearisome
— is common to both."

But he allows that Mr. Conrad is an artist ;
nor does he stint his admiration to his
descriptions of weather :

" There are few characters among the crew
of the Narcissus which do not stand out with
vivid and life-like presentment ; we know them
aU as though we, too, had partaken in the
lengthy cruise, and had laughed and grumbled
at all their idiosyncracies and failings. Old
Singleton, the Nestor of this company, with
his immense knowledge and his impressive
taciturnity ; blue-eyed Archie, with his red
whiskers ; Belfast, with his touching fidelity to
the nigger ; Mr. Baker, the chief mate, with
his grimts and his sovereign common sense ;
little Captain AUistoun, as hard as naUs, and
with a will tempered like the finest steel;
Donkin, the wastrel and outcast of metropolitan
life, shifty, indolent, and sly ; and the nigger,
James "Wait himself, with his mysterious
authority and his racking cough— one and all
are our familiar friends before the voyage is
over."

" Oppressively monotonous, and yet, at
the same time, enthralling," is the verdict of
the Manchester Courier on Mr. Conrad's
story.

Mr. Frank Stockton's latest
stone of story reminds two reviewers of

Jules Verne's stories, and to a
third it suggests a comparison with Mr.
H. G. "Wells's extravaganzas.

" The Great Stone of Sardis," says Literature,
" is a compound book. The Dipsey and the
hydraulic thermometer divide the interest with
the scientific experiments and inventions of
Mr. Eowland Clewe at the Sardis works. New
Jersey. In a way this latter part of the tale
is well managed ; we are led very skilfully
through the Artesian Eay and the Great Shell
up, or, rather, down to the Great Stone, and
the secret of the book is ingenious enough in
its manner. But what a poor maimer it is !
How that initial date, 1947, chills the imagina-
tion, and in what a torpid humour we listen to
the catalogue of ' scientific ' marvels ! And
then there is the garnishing which is deemed
necessary for such stories as these ; Mrs. Block
gives comic relief, and Mrs. Ealeigh looks after
the love interest, and through it all one re-
members the curse which Stevenson pronounced
on the Jules Verne school of fiction. But Thr
Great Stone of Sardis has its uses. It serves to
remind us how utterly remote the wonder of
romance is from the wonder of external things,
and how admirably Rossetti spoke from the
romantic standpoint when he said that he
neither knew nor cared whether the earth went
round the sun or the sun round the earth."

The Standard critic is doubtful about Mr.
Stockton's science.

" Mr. Stockton has not the scientific know-
ledge which serves Mr. Wells, and gives to his
stories such a high degree of plausibility. Our
author seems to postulate, for instance, that
his Artesian Eay has a certain physical effect
upon the matter through which it penetrates :
for how, otherwise, when it is again turned on,
could it, so to say, start at the point where its
effect had previously left off? And such a
notion as this seems to show a complete mis-
conception of the nature of light, and of the
vibrations of the luminiferous ether."

The Artesian Eay does not trouble the
Westminster Gazette :

" The best stroke in the book is Mr. Stock-
ton's idea of the effect of his Artesian Eay on
the human body."

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164

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 5, 1898.

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Fm. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

167

CONTENTS.

Pace

Bcncws :

The Aotohiosraphj- of Arthur Young

167

Frigments of Ronuknce

. 16S

Haiiiet Be«<jier Stowe

169

The QoMt of Hapiiiiiess

iro

Hoguth as Topographer

171

De«i Fkirar's Latest

171

Bkikfer Mkntion

, ira

Ficnos SiprLMKXT -

178-176

NoT»8 Axo News

177

RlPTTATIOSS K«COXSID«RKO

179

TOLSTOt A3ro MitrPASSAXT

180

JoAijiiy MitxiK, Bitowxtvo, axd the Puxcm Ihtkbial 181

The Book Market

.18*

CoiniBrs SiEXKiEn-ici

18S

Tbb Week

1S3

CVtRRlSPOSOKNCC ..

... 188

Book Hitikws RsnEvrcb

IS*

REVIEWS.

AETHUE YOUNG.

The Autohiography of Arthur Toung : with
S*lfetio»»from his Corre*pond*He«. Edited
by M. Betham-Edwards. (Smith, Elder
&Co.)

rT>HIS is a book by no means to be lost
I sight of in the cloud of unimportant
biographies of unimportant people which are
issued from -week to week. It is the auto-
biography of a man with a very brilliant pen,
who was, moreover,gLfted with a rery singular
capacity, on the one hand, for self-reve-
lation, on the other for unsparing and pun-
gent criticism of his contemporaries. And
even if written by another, the lite of Arthur
Young would stiU have its absorbing in-
terest for students of human nature in
general and of the late eighteenth century
in particular. Although a crank, he was a
enutk of genius. His T)-at«U in France is,
of course, a classic, and his Tour in Ireland
oloeely approaches it. He failed in the
management of three or four farms, and on
one is said to have made more than 2,000

Sofitless experiments ; but he was among
e earliest of scientific agriculturists, and
Mb researches were of incalculable benefit
to others, even if they went near to ruining
himself. Of his private life and distinctly
remarkable character but little has hitherto
been known. He left, however, an elaborate
memoir in MS., somewhat voluminous, and
touched by the religious melancholia of his
later years, but written with an alert intelli-
gence, and fuU of valuable social and per-
sonal matter. From this and from twelve
of correspondence the con-
present volume have been
some abridgment, but with
So far as we can judg^,
work has been excellently
fiOQomplished, and we are indebted to Miss
Betham-Edwards for her timely rescue of a
real bit of literature, overflowing with in-
itmction and entertainment.

Arthur Young was heir to a small ancestral

iroperty in Suffolk. Speaking of his grand-

" er, he records that " with only a part of

le present Bradfield estate he lived genteelly

drove a coach and four on a property

folio volumes
tents of the
fliawn, with
Um additions
^e editorial

which in these present days just maintains
the establishment of a wheelbarrow." His
father was a man of strong personality and
obstinate whims. You trace him in the
features of his son. Both father and mother
were devout ; the mother, indeed, after a
daughter's deatli, " never looked into any
book but on the subject of religion," and
Young regrets that her expostidations
affected so little the course of liis early life.
After a scrambling education Arthur Young
found himself thrown on the world without
a profession at twenty. His first venture
was a periodiciil called The Unirersal Museum,
for which he tried in vain to enlist an im-
portant contributor,

" I waite<l on Dr. Johnson, who was sitting
by the tire so half -dressed and slovenly a figure
as to make mo stare at him. I stated my plan
and begged that he would favour me with a
paper once a month, offering at the same time
any remimeration that he might name. ' No,
sir,' he replied, ' such a work would be sure to
fail if the booksellers have not the property,
and you will lose a great deal of money by it.'
'Certainly, sir,' I said, 'if I am not fortiinate
enough to induce writers of real talent to con-
tribute.' 'No, sir, you are mistaken, such
authors will not support such a work, nor will
yon persuade them to write in it; you will
purchase disappointment by the loss of your
money, and I advise you by all means to give
up the plan.' Somebody was introduced, and
I took my leave."

The Universal Museum did fail, and Young
began a career of mingled journalism and
farming, in which he was far more success-
ful with the pen than the plough. Besides
various essays and journals of tours, he
issued a publication called The Annals of
Agriculture, which won him a high reputa-
tion, and secured him no less an admirer,
and even contributor, than (Jeorge III.
His Majesty gave Young a Spanish Merino
ram, and some delightful comments in a
diary of the period are the result. The
diarist opines that the future "shall pay
more homage to the memory of a Prince
that gave a ram to a farmer than for wield-
ing the sceptre obeyed alike on the Ganges
and the Thames." At a later period, un-
fortunately, a coolness arose, and a friend
explained it by asking Young,

" in a very significant manner, whether I had
not said something against the King's bull, as
it was commonly reported that I had fallen
foul of his Majesty's dairy ; so 1 suppose the
man who showed me the cattle reported to the
King every word I had said of them, and
possibly with additions. Who is it that says
one shoidd be carefid in a court not to offend
even a dog ? "

Young's interest in things pertaining to
agriculture appears to have been a remark-
ably catholic and intelligent one. It covered
both the scientific and the economic sides of
the question. He was in constant corre-
spondence with such inquirere as Priestley
and such reformers as Bentham. But it
was in practical experiments, new crops and
new methods, that his interest was deepest.
We find him compaiing the value of
different kinds of grasses for pasture, and
promoting the neglected cultivation of
potatoes, cabbages, and turnips. At one
time he is rating the farming world for
their stupidity in failing to see the merit of

chicory or succory as a food for sheep ; at
another time he is testing on the same long-
suffering animals the virtues of a clothing
of oilskin or canvas daubed with tar. Un-
fortunately, " the clothed sheep jumping
hedg^es and ditches soon derobed them-
selves." But he is not so exercised with
beeves and meadows as to have no eye for
humanity ; his description of an Irish land-
lord of the "Castle Rackrent" type deserves
quoting :

"His hospitality was unbounded, and it nover
for a moment came into his head to make any
provision for feeding the people he brought
into his house. WhUe credit was to be had,
his butler or housekeeper did this for him :
his own attention was given solely to the
cellar that wine might not be wanted. If
claret was secured, with a dead ox or sheep
hanging in the slaughterhouse rea-ly for steals
or cutlets, he thought all was well. He was
never easy without company in the house, and
with a large party in it would invite another of
twice the number. One day the cook came
into the breakfast-parlour before all the com-
pany, ' Sir, there's no coals.' ' Then burn turf.'
' Sir, there's no turf.' ' Then cut down a tree.'
This was a forlorn hope, for, in all probability,
he must have gone three miles to hnd one, all
round the house being long ago safely swept
away. They dispatched a number of cars to
borrow turf. Candles were equally deficient,
for, unfortunately, he was fond of dogs, all
half- starved, so that a gentleman walking to
what was called his bedchamber, after making
two or three turnings, met a hungry greyhoimd,
who, jumping up, took the' candle out of the
candlestick, and devoured it in a trice, and left
him in the dark. To advance or return was
equally a matter of chance, therefore, groping
his way, he soon found himself in the midst of
a parcel of giggling maid-servants."

In 1793 Young was appointed Secretary to
the newly established Board of Agriculture,
and thenceforward divided his time between
London and liis small estate at Braxfield.
He was always in pecuniary difficulties, and
in a few years a blow fell upon him which
profoundly affected his character. This was
the death of his dearly loved daughter,
known as " Bobbin." Young had married
early and not very wisely. He was fond of
his wife, but she was foolish and illiterate,
and they quarrelled incessantly. But it is
clear from the letters and diary that " Bob-
bin " was the apple of her father's eye. She
died through the ignorance of her doctors,
and Young was inconsolable, until he came
across the writings of Wilberforee, which
converted him into what is called " a pro-
fessing Christian " of a singularly gloomy
and morbid type. From this time onward
his diary is filled with expressions of
religious devotion and of repentance for
the "follies" of his early lite. Mingled
with these are mordant criticisms on those
still in the world. The Christian graces
certainly did not soften the asperity of his
pen. Here is a sample entrj' :

" 9th. — ^Dined with Mr. and Mrs. Balgrave.
Balgrave is a good-tempered Suffolk parson,
neglects the duty of his church, idle, indolent,
drinks his bottle of port, and reads his news-
paper, but what is called a respectable character,
no views, nor any imprudent follies.'
And, again :

" Lord Preston swears ; it hurts me to hear
him. Icertaiulyoughttooonvertsuchpeopleand
reproach myself, and confess the sin every day

168

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

in my catalogue to God ; but I go on and do it
not. If I had wit I could laugh at it, but I
have no more wit than a pig."

"With this last bit of self-criticism the
reader will hardly be inclined to agree. On
the contrary, Young's wit and distinctly
mundane shrewdness pierce often enough
through religious sentiments which have
hardly grown habitual to him. Immediately
after his bereavement he observes, with
some want of grammar :

"After a day passed in deep sorrow, Mr.
Partridge read one of his sermons on the inter-
mediate state of departed souls, and which I
afterwards found was one of Jortin's."

And from time to time the old Adam
breaks out. He regards himself as dead to
the world :

" I have no pleasures, and wish for none,
saving that comfort which religion gives me ;
aud the sooner I make it my only pleasure the
wiser I shall be. I go to no amusements, and
read some Scriptures every day ; never lay aside
my good books but for business. I have dined
out but little, aud wish for no more than I
have."

Two lines later he remarks, "New servants,
all ; and the cook, a two-handed Yahoo, and
cannot boil a potato."

Young must have been a thorn in the
side of his chiefs at the Board of Agri-
culture. His private criticisms do not
mince matters. Both Sir J. Sinclair and
Lord Carrington, he thought, mismanaged
the business of the office shamefully. Lord
Carrington was a man of no religion, and
moreover, of no birth :

" He has made immensely by the loan ; and
the richer he grows, so much the worse. The
eldest girl said to Mr. H. when he called : ' My
papa used to have prayers in his family; but
none since he has been a peer.' What a motive
for neglecting God ! Also he is a Dissenter and
a democrat. A Unitarian he may be, but cer-
tainly no democrat. The Lord shew mercy to
him, and, by interrupting his prosperity or
lowering his health, bring him to repentance."

Presently Lord Carrington does a kindness to
Young ; gives him, in fact, an interest in the
loan here referred to. The secretary's com-
ment savours, perhaps, more of religion than
of merely human gratitude :

" I thanked him much. Such a thing never
entered my thoughts, and consequently sur-
j)ri8ed me much. He was very kind and con-
siderate, and I am certainly much obHged to

him for it I was thankful to God for

this, and meditated much on it. If God had
not been willing it would not have entered his
head, and I fmd it comfortable to attribute
everything to God, as, indeed, everything ought
certainly to be attributed, and the more we
trust entirely to Him the better I am persuaded
it is for us."

It is a curious contrast, this querulous,
bitter, self-absorbed old man, with the
brilliant Arthur Young of whom Fanny
Buraey writes : "Last night, whilst Hetty,
Susy, and myself were at tea, that lively,
charming, spirited Mr. Young entered the
room. Oh, how glad we were to see him ! "
We have by no means exhausted the
interest of the biography. There are
many letters from, or reminiscences of,
Young's wide circle of acquaintance :
Chesterfield, Dr. Bumey, and Burke play

their parts ; most remarkable of all, per-
haps, that Earl of Bristol who was also
Bishop of Derry : " He was a perfect
original — dressed in classical adorning."
He was " so long absent from Ireland that
the Primate wrote him three letters of
remonstrance, and the answer he sent him
was to do up and send in three blue peas in
a blue bladder." He was an enthusiast in
agriculture, and thought little of theology,
and his letters are vastly entertaining. But
it is Arthur Young himself, whose melan-
choly career and salient personality form the
chief attraction of this fascinating book.

FEAGMENTS OF EOMANCE.

Thk "Works of Egbert Louis Stevenson.
• — Vol. VII. : Romances. (Edinburgh
Edition.')

The issue of the Edinburgh edition of the
works of Eobert Louis Stevenson draws to a
close. One volume only, containing St. Ives,
remains to be published. It will foUow
hard upon the heels of this, which is made
up of various fragments that seemed to the
editor, Mr. Sidney Colvin, of too good a
quality, or too interesting, to be lost.

The pecuniary advantage to an author or
his heirs of a limited edition of his works is
often considerable — in this instance magnifi-
cent. The price of the Edinburgh edition
has risen over 100 per cent. The original
cost was £12 10s. A set changed hands the
other day for £28. Speculation in limited
editions is good sport for virtuosos, but the
poor man comes badly out of such under-
takings. There are people, and their
number is not few, who must read and
possess every published line of a favourite
author. To slender-i)ur8ed Stevensonians
such a laudable ambition is hopeless, as
the Edinburgh edition contains writings
by E. L. S. which [are not to be found
elsewhere. That was one of the baits
held out to purchasers, to say nothing
of the pleasure, to an orderly mind, of
having an author in uniform size and
binding. The Stevenson shelf of those who
bought the volumes as they were issued by
half-a-dozen publishers with half-a-dozen
ideas as to size and shape, is as jumpy as a
line of legal volunteers drawn up on parade.
It is to be hoped Mr. Charles Baxter and Mr.
Colvin wiU arrange with the various owners
of Stevenson copyrights to bring out a
cheap unlimited Edinburgh edition. "We
can hardly suppose any of the original
subscribers will be so selfish as to wish to
deprive others of a complete set of this
author's works.

The present volume contains four frag-
ments. The longest is that sombre and dis-
tinguished beginning of a masterpiece. Weir
of Eermiston, which has already been pub-
lished. Of the other three fragments, one.
The Great North Road, was posthumously
published in the Illustrated London News for
the Christmas of 1895 ; the others, BeatUrcat
and The Young Chevalier, are here printed
for the first time.

There are but eight chapters to The Great
North Road, which was written as long ago as

1884, when Stevenson was living at Bourne-
mouth. His reasons for not finishing this
romance of the highway we shall never know,
nor what adventures that ingenious and
fertile brain devised for these buccaneers of
the road. He turned from this fragment to
finish The Dynamiter, and he never sought
The Great North Road again. Yet he was
hopeful about the piece, although conscious
of difficulty ahead.

" I thought to rattle it off like Treasure
Island, for coin," he wrote to Mr. Henley,
"but it has turned into my most ambitious
design, and will take piles of writing and
thinking ; so that is what my highwayman has
turned to. ... I quaU before the gale, but so
help me it shall be done."

It was not Stevenson's usual way to
quaU before the gale. Moreover, the
notion of writing a romance of the high-
way had long been in his mind, and
we have Mr. Colvin's assurance that this
fragment was not laid aside from any dis-
satisfaction with what he had done. Never-
theless, we are inclined to think that he was
not altogether satisfied, and that the letter
to Mr. Henley was written in a buoyant
mood which did not recur. He was very ill
in those days, and undertrained for so
serious an efEoi-t. In truth, the fragment
is a little laboured : it suggests the study
rather than the open road. He turned
aside to other work. He could afford to be
prodigal.

The fragment of The Young Chevalier is
much shorter than The Great North Road. It
contains but a prologue and some four pages
of the first chapter, but the mind of the
master is upon those pages. The scene in
the wine - shop at Avignon, where the
" prologuial episode " passes, is true to his
gay and fearless outlook upon life : his love
for the bright eyes of danger, his contempt
for drones. Here is the opening of the first
and only chapter. Is it not inviting ? Do
not the phrases live? Is not the picture
clear and romantically touched ?

" That same night there was in the city of
Avigoon a young man in distress of mind.
Now he sat, now walked in a high apartment,
fiJl of draughts and shadows. A single candle
made the darkness visible ; and the light scarce
sufficed to show upon the wall, where they had
been recently aud rudely nailed, a few minia-
tures and a copper medsJ. of the young man's
head. The same was being sold that year in
London to admiring thousands. The original
was fair ; he had beautiful brown eyes, a beauti-
ful bright open face ; a little feminiue, a little
hard, a Uttle weak; stUl full of the Hght of
youth, but already beginning to be vulgarised;
a sordid bloom came upon it, the lines coarsened
with a touch of puffiness. He was dressed, as
for a gala, in peach-colour and silver ; his
breast sparkled with stars and was bright with
ribbons ; for he had held a levee in the afternoon
and received a distinguished personage incog-
nito. Now he sat with a bowed head, now
walked precipitately to aud fro, now went and
gazed from the uncurtained window, where the
wind was still blowing, and the lights winked
in the darkness."

The first suggestion for this story ca.me
from Mr. Andrew Lang, who, in reading
the curious Tales of the Century, had been
struck by a long essay on Prince Charles's
mysterious incognito. He sent the notion
and documents to Stevenson in Samoa, who

i Feb. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

169

received the idea gladly. The subject is
referred to again and again in Vailima
Letters.

" There are only four characters," Steven-
son observes ; " Francis Blair of Balmile
I (Jacobite Lord Gladsmuir), my hero ; the
I Master of BaUantrae ; Paradau, a wine-seUer
' of Avignon ; Mary-Madeleine, his wife. These
1 last two I am now done with, and I think they
I are successful, and I hope I have Balmile on
j his feet ; and the style seems to be found. It is
; a httle charged and violent ; sins on the side of
I violence ; but I think will carry the tale."

' There are no data to show how the

I story would have finally shaped itself in his

■ fancy. "Often," adds Mr. Lang, "since

' Mr. Stevenson's death, in reading Jacobite

MSS. unknown to me or to anyone when

tlie story was planned, I have thought,

' He could have done something with this '

or ' This would have interested him.'

1 Eheii ! "

Eeatlurcat, like The Young Chevalier, be-
longs to the last three years of Stevenson's
. exile in the Pacific, and is also here published
! for the first time. It is a story of Covenant-
I ing life in Scotland, and runs to three
! chapters. The author's scheme was to shift
the narrative across the Atlantic, first to the
Carolina plantations and next to the ill-
fated Scotch settlement in Darien. About
[this time Mr. Crockett was at work upon
|his Covenanting romance — The Men of the
Moss Eags. To Mr. Crockett Stevenson
addressed some playful letters; it seemed
to amuse him that they should be worrying
at the same subject. One day he for-
warded to the author of The Men of the Moss
\Hags a sketch of a trespass board and
gallows, with E. L. Stevenson in the act of
Ibanging S. E. Crockett, and on the board
jthe words : " Notice.— The Cameronians are
|the property of me, E. L. Stevenson.— Tres-
;3assers and Eaiders will be hung." In an
iiccompanying letter he said, "I have made
nany notes for Heathercat, but do not get
|uuch foiTader. For one thing, I am not
inside these people yet. Wait three years
ind ril race you:' That particular race
k-as never run. Shortly before his death he
jvrote to a fiiend that he had laid the story on
jhe shelf, and so the awful Haddo never met
retribution, and the battle between the boy
lleathercat and the boy Croyer remains
jmong the unfought fights of history. It is
lot a very spirited piece so far as it goes ;
tie narrative is somewhat loose, and far
jehind the chapters of Weir of Hermiston,
I'hich conclude the volume.
; As that little masterpiece has been pub-
Ished, widely read, and criticised, no
lore need be said about it here. But we
,.ay give ourselves the pleasure of quoting
lie dedication, although the lines are not
w. Addressed to his wife, they express
|ie thought that was ever in his mind — the
lought of home.

So now in the end, if this, the least, be good.
If any deed be done, if any fire
Burn in the imperfect page, the praise be
thine."

He was at work upon the book, of which
these lines form the dedication, on the
morning of his death— " Singular that I
should fulfil the Scots destiny throughout,
and live a voluntary exile, and have my
head filled with the blessed, beastly place
aU the time."

HAEEIET BEECHEE STOWE.

Life and Letters. Edited by Annie Fields.
(Sampson Low & Co.)

■I saw ram falling and the rainbow drawn
]On Lammermuir. Hearkening I heard ao-aia
In my precipitous city beaten beUs
|Winnow the keen sea wind. And here afar,
llntent on my own place and race, I wrote.
Take thou the writing : thine it is. For who
Burnished the sword, blew on the drowsy
1 coal, '

Held still the target higher, chary of praise
And prodigal of counsel— who but thou ?

"Is this the little woman who made the
great war ? " Abraham Lincoln did, as a
fact of history, put the question in this
form, and the fact stands, inasmuch as he
did so publicly, by way of welcome to
Harriet Beecher Stowe when the author of
Uncle Tom's Cabin first saw the President of
the dis-United States. Nothing more was
known of the interview, for they spoke
apart, and Mrs. Stowe — in spite of a certain
notorious incident — was a woman who knew
how to add to fame the grace of privacy,
and she never related her talk with Lin-
coln. " Is this the little woman who made
the great war?" is, perhaps, a phrase to be
suspected of the easy falsity of epigram ;
nevertheless, even with a little discount, it
confesses the original motive of the Civil
War, clear among the complications of
State rights and State politics. That
motive was obscure in its day. Abolition
was, as it were, the secret of the North — a
secret which the right hand kept from the
left, and the heart from the lips. There
would have been a disunited North, as
well as a disunited North and South,
had the truth been known too soon —
nay, had it not been a thousand times
denied. Under protection and licence of
the playfulness or gallantry of a speech to a
woman more than one truth has been pub-
lished in the easiest and least challengeable
form; and Lincoln blurted out the initial
and fundamental truth with the tact of the
freedom of the moment.

Mrs. Beecher Stowe was a woman of
small mind, of moderate talent, of no more
than sufficient education, of popular ability,
of unbounded zeal, and, therefore, armed at
all points to take the mind of a nation. The
facts of slavery were ready for use by such
a woman turned novelist — the fewer facts the
better and the more manageable. Seldom has
reformer had more fiery matter than these :
mothers whose skins were dark had no right
to so much as a day of their children's
infancy ; the marriage of slaves was of no
validity, and the form a mere burlesque ;
white citizens sold their own children in
open market ; to educate these outcasts to the
point of reading and writing was illegal.
Doubtless our own social conditions clamour
for reform, and the freedom of contract
between man and man may be a nominal
rather than an essential liberty. But at least
we have the name, which means that we have
also an ideal of aim; and depressing as

the actual condition of the negro population
in the States may be to-day in some of
its aspects, it creates a disquietude for a
nation rather than for all mankind. England
had hopes, perhaps, from the American
Civil War, and from Emancipation, which
have not been wholly realised ; but when-
ever that reform had been carried out, the
transition stage must have been one of
defect and peril, and in postponement was no
remedy.

Happy was it for Mrs. Beecher Stowe
that she lacked the profimdity and the
prevision to realise to the full the diffi-
culties of the position. Optimism is the
reformer's secret; it tallies with his intui-
tions, and leaves behind the man of cold
experience whom tradition tethers. Eeaders,
in the main, are, or were, optimistic ; and
the popular enthusiasm evoked by Unch
Tom's Cabin, if it did not mould the opinion,
at least forced the hands, of even eminent
English statesmen. The book probably
beat all the records. It sold more than
any book has ever sold in the United States.
and in England it made the writer a celebrity
akin to that of a female Garibaldi, The book
appeared serially at first, the opening chapter
in The National Era of Washington for April,
1850. Some passages pieced together from
letters written and generally addressed to her
absent husband — a Professor in somewhat
weak health and spirits — by Mrs. Stowe
just before this date, add to the interest of
the book's romantic commercial history :

"You are not able to bear anything, my dear
husband, therefore trust all to me. I am already
making arrangements with editors to raise
money. . . . Then comes a letter from my
husband" [this she says to her sister-in-law]
" saying he is sick abed, and aU but dead ; don't
ever expect to see his family again ; wants to
know how I shall manage in case I am left
a widow; warns me to be prudent, as there
won't be much to live on." ..." Christmas
is coming and our little household is all
alive with preparations, everyone collecting
Uttle gifts with wonderful mystery and secrecy.
To tell the truth, dear, I am getting tired— my
neck and back ache." . . . " As long as the baby
sleeps with me nights I can't do much at
a,nything, but I will write that thing if I
live." . . . " When I have a headache and feel
sick, as I do to-day, there is actually not a place
in the house where I can lie down and take a
nap without being disturbed. If I look my
door and He down, someone is sure to be rattling
thelatchbeforefifteenminuteshavepassfd." . . .
' ' There is c o doubt in my mind that our expenses
this year will come two hundred dollars, if not
three, beyond our salary."

The story was at last ended in the
National Era for April, 1852. Then the
first thing she did, when the thing got into
volume form, was to send copies, accom-
panied by letters, to Dickens, Macaulay,
Lord Carlisle, the Duke of Argyll and Lord
Shaftesbury. Mr. Jewett, the Boston
publisher, young and fortunate, had sold
three thousand copies before the letters of
acknowledgment and congratulation began
to pour in— nearly the first to come was Jenny
Lind's. " God wrote the book," was the
cry of the author in the first flush of the great
notoriety which we may call even great fame ;
and there was no pose or elation in the
attribution, but only a refuge she humbly
created for her own modesty. "It is not

170

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

fame or praise that contents me," she writes
to her husband amid the prosperity that
enriched all her nature: "I seem never to
have needed love so much as now. I long
to hear you say how much you love me."

Popularity came by leaps and bounds.
Over three hundred tiiousand copies of the
book were sold within a year, and eight
presses, running night and day, were hardly
able to keep pace with the growing demand
for it. The praises of George Sand, who
introduced the book to France, were on the
scale of the sales — or a little beyond. " The
life and death of a little child and of a negro
slave — that is the whole book ! " she wrote.

"The a£Pection that unites them, the
respect of these two perfect ones for
each other, is the only love-story, the only
passion, of the drama. I know not what other
genius but that of sanctity itself could shed
over this situation a charm so powerful and
so sustained. All is so new, so beautiful, that
one asks one's self, in thinking of it, whether
the success of the work is, after all, equal to
the height of its conception."

The events of Mrs. Stowe's visits to
England are sufficiently familiar. She found
ducal houses like fairy palaces, thanks, it
would seem, to the noiseless - stepping
servants who anticipated her wants. A
final zest must have been added to the
kindly lionising of Mrs. Stowe indulged
in by the Duchess of Sutherland and others
when they were able to whisper that the
Queen herself was poring over the pages
of the story that had been taken in England,
no less than in America, to the great
popular heart. The sympathy between
Mrs. Stowe and the great people she met —
George Eliot among the nimiber — was per-
Bonal rather than intellectual. As a result,
we do not iind much insight in her records of
meetings that might otherwise have been
memorable. The best account by far is that
of her visit to Charles Kingsley, the enthu-
siasm of whose Churchmanship has been
put into shade elsewhere by comments, kind
or angry, on its breadth ; and who is better
known as a talker by his stammering than
by his at the same time valiantly voluble
tongue. It was no new thing to Mrs. Stowe
to go to the house of complete strangers,
yet her "heart fluttered" as she drove up
in the dark to the house of the author of
Westward Ho ! She writes to her husband :

"We were met in the hall by a man who
stammers a little in his speech, and whose
mquiry, 'Is this Mrs. Stowe?' was our first
positive introduction. He is tall, slender, \vith
blue eyes, brown hair, and a hale well-browned
face, and somewhat loosely jointed withal.
His wife is a real Spanish beauty. How we
did talk and go on for three days ! I guess he
is tired. I'm sure we were. He is a nervous,
excitable being, and talks with head, shoulders,
arms, and hands, while his hesitance makes it
the harder. Of his theoloiry I will say more
at another time; but he is, what I did not
expect, a zealous Churchman."

She met another great talker in Macaulay,
whose attitude towards her was less in-
dulgent than that of others ; and each formed
of the other an unfavourable opinion which
neither took the trouble to conceal.

Mrs. Stowe did not hit on any other
novel with a supreme purpose ; and her sub-
seq^uent worka were read mainly because

they were by the author of Uncle Tom's
Cabin. At the end she faded serenely
out of life. " My mind wanders like a
running brook, and I do not think of
my friends as I used to, unless they recall
themselves to me by some kind action."
Sadly she says she is "like the still silk-
worm who has spun out all his sQk and can
spin no more." Then she became what is
sometimes called " absent," and again "like
a little child." The power of her mind was
gone, but she wandered about, pleased with
flowers, and arrested by singing, especially
the singing of hymns. She was eighty-five
years of age, although " a little child," when
she died in the July of 1896.

THE QUEST OF HAPPINESS.

The Quest of Hapjnness. By Philip Gilbert
Hamerton. (Seeley & Co.)

To write of happiness it is perhaps well
that one should know something of the
opposite condition of life. Few men on
this hypothesis were better qualified to ex-
pound the science of hajipiness than the
late Philip Gilbert Hamerton, who, in this
imfinished book, for it is published as a
fragment of the author's original scheme,
has left behind him an admirably practical
philosophy of life. "It was written," we
are told, "when the author was held in the
clutches of a mortal disease, and knew that
he was nearing the end of life." Almost
at the gate of the other world, for which,
be it observed, he carried none of the pass-
ports furnished by religion, he paused to
reflect upon the abundant provision made in
this world for the happiness of those who
are qualified to avail themselves of it, his
aim being to show that in most cases the
prize is more nearly within our reach than
the habitual pessimist is apt to suppose.
His science of happiness Hamerton learnt in
the school of adversity. " His childhood," it
appears, " was exceptionally lonely and miser-
able, for his mother died when he was an
infant, and he was brutally treated by a
dissolute and drunken father." At school
his " lack of physical strength and his
morbid sensitiveness prevented him from
taking part in the usual boyish games."
After a brief career in the army, for which
he was constitutionally unfitted — another
unpleasant experience — he devoted himself
to poetry and art, and here he suffered
the disappointment of failure. As a pis-aller,
and under stress of circumstances which
compelled him to earn a livelihood, he
turned to literature — a hard task-mistress,
too — and wrote the Painters' Camp, which
from the first caught the fancy of the
reading public. Thus success, when it did
come, came to him from a quarter in which
he had not looked for it. He was practical-
minded enough to accept with a cheerful
heart such gifts as the gods chose to send
him, but " the particular success for which
he had always longed was never his."

Upon these experiences Hamerton founds
his philosophy.

" Happiness," he writes, "enough, and much
more than I ever expected, has been mine, but

it has been very various in character and
always very difficult to keep. The effect upon
me has been as if an interesting volume were
snatehed out of my hands when I was in the
middle of it, and another substituted, quite as
interesting but not what I wanted at the time."

In eighteen chapters, dealing with such
subjects as occupation, natural gifts, the
exercise of the senses and other faculties,
reality and the pursuit of the ideal, the
author sets forth the principles which he
deduces from his own life and his observa-
tion of the world around. They may be very
briefly expressed : " Indulge your dreams
of the ideal if you will, but make the most
of the disappointing reality, because it will
be found that that too has its good side,"
or, in other words, "Adjust your life to the
universe as it exists." Such is the message
that Hamerton gives to those who consult
his pages. He repeats it in many forms. i

"The power of seeing things as they really |
are without being biassed by the desire to have
them as we think they ought to be, is of all gifts
the most desirable, with a view to a rational
though not an iutoxiciting kind of happiness."

This is one of his sayings, and another,
more subtle and true, is that "the interest
of human life which never ends is due
chiefly to the imperfect and precarious
character of our happiness," such as it is.
In fact, he lands himself in something like
a paradox. Speaking of the pursuit of
happiness, which he thinks as desirable as i

the pursuit of wealth, learning, or reputa-
tion, he observes

" that the happiness we attain, though it is
not the ideal, is stiU worth and more than
worth the trouble and jjaius we take for its
acquisition ; that if we do not get all the happi-
ness we had counted upon, we get very much
that we have never deserved and that has never
entered into our calcidations, and, finally, that
owing to certain peculiarities in our nature,
there are good reasons for believing that
complete felicity, supposing it to be possible,
would be unsuitable for us, and is therefore
undesirable."

A "practical philosophy" we have called

this, and no doubt the attemj)t to practice

it by those who cared to make the quest

of happiness a definite jmrsuit, like that

of education, would, so far as it was

operative, prove beneficial. It is difficult

to imagine the spirit of resignation which

it inculcates proving detrimental. Whether

the fundamentals of the problem of

happiness are here, however, may be

doubted. At Mrs. Hamerton's instance

a chapter is added to the book, entitled

" Some Eeal Experiences," This the

author had rejected as fitting in badly

with his plan ; but it seems to us that some

of these experiences point to a truer theory

of happiness than that upon which Hl^^J^

Hamerton insists. Here is one : tPH

" A well-preserved old Frenchman told me
that the mere boon of life itself appeared to
him infinitely precious. His own happiness
was in seeing and thinking, perhaps more
especially in seeing. He enjoyed these pleasures
intensely, even in age, notwithstanding the i]

anxieties and humiliations which iu his own case
had accompanied a transition from easy circum-
stances to poverty. On the whole he had
enjoyed his existence on earth and should
leave this world with regret, though fully ^

Fbb. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

171

assured of another and still more interesting
existence in a future state."

Does not this experience — and there are
others equally significant in a negative sense
— indicate that the faculty of happiness is
at bottom a natural endowment, that some
organisations are productive of happiness as
i others are of the reverse, circumstances in
1 all cases counting for little ? Joy and sorrow,
pleasure and pain— what are they ? Merely
' an efficient or an inefiicient expenditure of
I nerve-energy ! If an organ contains an
I abundance of stored-up nerve-force, it re-
1 sponds pleasurably to a stimulus ; in the con-
! trary case it responds painfully or not at all.
The feeling of being weU or iU, happy or
imhappy, joyful or oppressed — a mere ques-
tion of nerve-force! When our organs —
stomach, limbs — are over-charged with this
vital principle we feel a craving to employ
them, and the consequent discharge of the
|stored-up energy gives us reUef or pleasure.
iLife is then worth living. Wlien, on the
iother hand, our systems are feeble, and the
•stimulus of air in our lungs or food in our
Istomachs is in excess of the nerve-energy
iwhich is there to meet it, the result is weari-
Iness or pain. Life is then a burden. Work
out this principle in detail and it will be
found to hold good. If you exercise an
.appetite too freely you use up the nerve-
lenergy that keeps it active ; it ceases to
irespond, and you are satiated with what
jn-as at first a pleasure.

I In fine, the measure of happiness belonging
:o aU of us is great or small according to
pur constitutions ; it can be filled up to the
Ibrim by the simplest means — by the so-called
liecessaries of life, in fact — and you can no
nore add to it by an habitual indulgence in
uxuries than you can pour a quart of beer
nto a pint pot. Where the bare necessaries
)f life are wanting, there is, of course, pain.
|i3ut a beef-and-beer-fed Socialist has no
jeason to envy the millionaire his ingots.
iVfter exerting himself for half a lifetime to
jiccumulate money, the rich man who is
rifted with common sense is but too apt to sit
lown and marvel at the vanity of it all. He
lings to his ingots, of course, because he
knows of nothing better to do ; but the
socialist, if he got them, would probably
leel that he had been grasping at a shadow.
livery human organisation possesses a work-
ing basis of its own. Circumstances such
;,s the accession of wealth or the loss of
:)Osition may exalt or depress the nervous
jystem; but the efEect is temporary. The
terves will not permanently remain in an
abnormal state of tension or laxity. Inevit-
'bly they return to the mean. Mark Tapley
nd Scrooge are equally themselves again.
: Mr. Hamerton has left us an interesting
j'ook on a subject which lies close to aU
earts, but its value consists in its being the
pcord of an individiial view of life. It is
n unsafe basis for a generalisation.

HOGAETH AS TOPOGEAPHEE.

niliai/i Hogarth. By Austin Dobson.
(Kegan Paul.)

|[r. Dobson has amplified stiU further his
;iography of Hogarth. The volume before
s is enlarged and revised from the first

edition of 1891, which was itself an ex-
pansion of a smaller volume in the " Gbeat
Artists " series. Although the present
edition may be considered to be Mr.
Dobson' 8 finished monument to Hogarth,
it is not necessary that we should examine
in detail a work which, in its main features,
is known to the reading public. Eather we
choose to touch on a side issue. Hogarth's
amazing industry as a topogp:apher of
London is brought home afresh by the
beautiful illustrations in this book, and to
this side of his genius it may not be
improper to draw attention once more.

Hogarth's own life looms through his
London pictures. He lived in London all
his days, and in one district after another.
Thus, he drew his first breath in Bartholomew
Close. He was apprenticed in Cranboume-
alley, Leicester Fields. He lived in Long-
lane, Smithfield, with his widowed mother
and sisters. In his most impressionable
years he studied drawing in Covent Garden.
He brought his young wife to " summer
lodgings" in Lambeth. As a young man
he took long walks ; we hear of him at
Highgate, and at the "Bull and Bush" inn
at Hampstead . At last he settled in Leicester
Pields, close to every scene of gaiety and
fashion. Had he been an ordinary observer
his knowledge of London must have been
extensive and peculiar. But an eye that
missed nothing, a memory that never failed —
is it wonderful that eighteenth century
London lives in the backgrounds of his
prints so vividly as to produce a positive
illusion, a queer obsession ? One might
pore over the engravings of the Fotcr Times
of Bay untn the air of Dr. Johnson's London
fills one's lungs. For these prints appeared
in 1738, the year in which Johnson's satire,
London, took the town by storm. One may
say of them, as Lamb said of the " Gin-
lane" print, they are "perfectly amazing
and astounding to look at."

Three of these scenes are laid in London,
the fourth takes us to Islington. In the
" Morning " picture we are outside the
low dark door of Tom King's Coffee
House in Covent Garden. It is five
minutes to eight. Two boys are going
to school. A starchy old maid is crossing
the square to enter St. Paul's Church,
a little dismayed at having to pass some
boisterous market women and porters
who are grouped round a fire. Behind
these some of Tom King's customers are
quarrelling as they leave the coffee house.
A fruit porter, in the distance, is leaning on
a rail, tired by his early spell of work. The
houses rise in quiet dignity, in early morning
cleanness. It is all convincing. Truly, 3
it makes the student believe that King's
Coffee House stood in front of St. Paul's
portico, Hogarth misleads him ; for King's
stood opposite Tavistock-row. Except for
this licence, Hogarth gives us the very Covent
Garden of 1738.

In his "Noon" plate — beautifully re-
produced in Mr. Dobson's volume — we are
as near to reality. The scene is Hog-
lane, a street now lost in the Charing
Cross-road. But there, above the houses,
rises the tower of St. Giles's Church as we
see it to-day. In the " Evening " there is less
to recognise ; but how faithful to history is

the glimpse of the New Eiver, the rural
freshness, and the milking of a cow by a
dairymaid. The maid belongs, perhaps, to
Mr. Pocock's farm ; and one is pleased to
think that, having milked her cow in
"Noon," we see her again crying "Milk
Below " in the " Enraged Musician." A
well set-up lass she is, and she has made
nothing of the walk from Islington to St.
Martin's-lane, where now we meet her.

The fourth plate, " Night," is an ex-
aggeration. The Salisbury coach upset at
Charing Cross and lying in a bonfire was
not a typical incident. The humours of the
piece, too, are low, and one's eye, seeking
something familiar, rests gratefully on the
equestrian statue of Charles I. in the back-
ground. But the Barber's sign is interest-
ing : " Shaving, bleeding, and teeth drawn
with a touch — ecce signum." Hogarth threw
immortality like a spray over such trifles.

A faithful record of eighteenth century
London is the twelfth plate of "Industry
and Idleness." The Industrious Apprentice,
become Lord Mayor, is turning into Cheap-
side on his triumphant way back to the
Mansion House. His state carriage is seen
passing the spot in which the Peel statue
now stands, and the spectator, looking south
from St. Martin's-le-Grand, sees St. Paul's-
Churchyard in the background, the east end
of the Cathedral projecting into his view.
The Cheapside houses, the distant Cannon-
street, the roofs and windows alive with
sightseers, are all the very mintage of the
time. This series, indeed, is a panorama
of London. In Plate V. the Idle Appren-
tice is being rowed past Cuckold's Point to
his ship ; we see the bleak Thames of that
day with four weird, lonely windmills
beckoning on its north shore, while lower
down, dreadfully distinct in the distance,
a river pirate's body swings above the
waves from a gibbet. In Plate VI. we
have a faithful picture of a City street, with
the base of the Monument closing the
background. In Plate VIII. we are in
the Guildhall ; in Plate XL at Tyburn, on
the edge of London, and above the many-
headed scene of execution the hills of
Hampstead smile far away. One might
multiply Hogarth's triumphs of topographi-
cal exactness to a fabulous extent. As Mr.
Dobson says: "He gives us, unromanced
and unidealised, the actual mise-en-scene,
'the form and pressure,' the authentic
details and accessories, of the age in which
he Uved."

DEAN FAERAE'S LATEST.

Allegories. By Frederic W. Farrar.
(Longmans.)

" 'There he goes, quoting two more poets
in one line ! ' said Festus." Nor could
Festus have more happily hit off a leading
feature in his creator's own literary method.
Dean Farrar must have an extraordinary
memory to gamer up all these stray frag-
ments of verse that flow so readily from his
magnificent pen. The quality of them is, of
course, to say the least of it, fluctuating;
but you cannot have everything, and, after
all, a bad quotation is better than no quota-

172

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898

tion at all. As with quotiitious, so with
epithets and imagery. The gorgeous pages
glitter like the windows of a Burlington
Arcade shop.

" The softly verdant meadows sprinkled with
their golden flowers, the great trees with their
waving boughs, the sun in the blue heavens
with its glories of crimson sunset and rosy dawn,
the strong mountains, the swe't and balmy air,
the yellow wealth of harvests, the crystal ot
the running streams, the stars shedding then-
spiritual lustre through the purple twilight, the
innocent mirth and kughter of young voices -
the gloi-y, and the wonder, and the POwer, and
dread magnificence of nature del'ghted him.

How rich in colour ; how sumptuous it is !
And if the adjectives, for all their profuse-
ness, seem a little conventional and obvious,
what of that? Meadows are "verdant,"
the heavens are " blue," the dawn is "rosy,"
why not say so ?

For our part, were we to set out after
a popular literary success, we should pray
the gods to give us precisely the literary
equipment and the literary temper of Dean
Farrar. Not to be afraid of the obvious;
to sit straight down and paint away with
the crude palette of the house painter, to
treat literature as a tahula rasa, to symbolise
as if nobody else had ever sjTubolised from
John the Divine to Maurice Maeterlinck:
that surely is the secret of fame. But, if
you begin to look back, to criticise yourself,
to ask wliether this or that thought is quite
your own, or, still worse, whether this or
that sentence is written quite as well as you
could write it, then it is all up with you ;
you become a mere man of letters. But
from this fate Dean Farrar's robustness of
purpose, no less than his pulpit training,
has happily saved him.

These Allegories are allegories of the
moral development of youth — something
like Hogarth's BaMs Progress, only not so
coarse. One of them, The Life Story of
Aner, ends thus :

BRIEFER MENTION.

" The bark touched the shore. No trumpets
sounded for him on the other side, but two
bright forms, clad with wings, met him and took
him by the hand. They clothed him in white
raiment. They entered a gate of pearl, and
through a sea of heavenly light he saw a rainbow
round a throne, in sight like unto an emerald.
Aner flung himself upon his face. The wounded
hand of Imrah raised him, and when he dared
to look up he saw the glory of his father's
countenance, and his father smiled on him, and
welcomed his weary wanderer home."

Now, we maintain that to write like this,
in all good faith, as if you were at the
beginning of things, is a sign of genuine
self-confidence ; and the value of self-con-
fidence as a literary quality, has, perhaps,
iiardly been sufficiently recognised. The
last, and most ingenious, story in the book
is a sort of allegorisation of Eric. As it
does not profess to be anything but an
allegory, the sickly sentimentality, which
makes the real schoolboy kick Uric across
the classroom and speak rudely of it as
" rot," does not so much matter. Never-
theless, we expect, and hope, that the
schoolboy will do some kicking, if it is only
for the sake of the pretty, long - haired
children and the large-winged angels of the
illustrations.

Portrait Miniatures. By George C. William-
son, Litt.D.

MINIATUEE painters flatter themselves
that 1895 saw a renascence of their
art. Those, however, who visit a modem ex-
hibition will feel that this boast is only partly
justified. The trail of the coloured photo-
graph is stiU over it all, and the few works
inspired by real artistic temperament stand
out from a background of wearied conven-
tions and commercial sentiment. If the re-
vival is to come, it must be largely through
studying the spirit and not the letter of the
past. To this desirable result Dr. William-
son's capital handbook may contribute no
little. Less sumptuous in design than Dr.
Lumsden Propert's monumental treatise, to
which, of course, it owes much, it wiU be an
excellent introduction to the subject for many
would-be artists and would-be collectors
for whom that magnificent quarto is an
unattainable delight. The letterpress is
lucid and full of information ; the illustra-
tions, though as examples of process-work
they contrast ill with Dr. Propert's, will yet
give more than an idea, at least, of the
style of composition affected by the great
masters. The greatest of these, in their
respective days, were doubtless Holbein,
HiUiard, and Cosway, and of each of these
Dr. Williamson has his adequate account to
give. Of the missal miniature he says
nothing, but adds a chapter on enamel
miniatures, and another on foreign work.
While upon this subject we may correct an
error which most recent writers upon
Holbein have fallen into. Holbein was in
England on a first visit for three years
from 1526. But Dr. Williamson, fol-
lowing Dr. Propert, wUl not attribute
to him any court miniatures of this
period, on the ground that he was merely
the private guest of Sir Thomas More, and
cannot be shown to have had anything to do
with the court. Yet from the State papers
so laboriously calendared by Dr. Brewer we
learn that in 1527 "Master Hans and his
company " were engaged in decorating a new
revels house in the tiltyard at Greenwich.
And who should "Master Hans" be if not
Holbein? No other painter so named can
be traced in England at the time.

Index to the Prerogative Wills of Ireland,
15.36-1810. By Sir Arthur Vicars, F.S.A.,
Ulster King of Arms. (Ponsonby.)

Of recent years a vast amount of silent,
patient, often wearisome, and almost always
unremunerative labour has been devoted to
the task of organising and rendering access-
ible the immense and ill-ordered mass of
materials that exist for genealogical research.
The extent to which this disinterested and
ill-requited toil is going on around us
throughout the land is probably unknown
outside the limited class of professional
experts, except to the comparatively few who
dabble as amateurs in heraldry and gene-
alogy, or who have occasion to resort to
official assistance in such matters. When
we say that this is obviously one of those
taxonomic duties which ought to be under-

taken by the State, it is hardly necessary to
add that with us it is mainly neglected by
the State. Not wholly so, it is true, for
here and there, in the usual spasmodic
and incomplete manner in which similar
public responsibilities are dealt with in this
country, Record Commissions, Eecord Re-
ports, RoUs publications, and so forth, have
immediately or incidentally effected some-
thing in this direction. Still, the bulk ot
the work remains yet undone, and the bulk
of what has been done has been carried out
by the various antiquarian societies in the
capital and the provinces, or by casual and
sporadic individual zeal. The growing
sense, however, of the waste of power
and of the discouragement that is apt
to attend independent and unco-ordinated
activity of this kind may be seen, for in-
stance, in the formation of such bodies as
the " Committee for the Transcription and
Publication of Parish Registers " : a field
of industry in which drudgery must verily,
like virtue, be its own reward. Sir Arthur
Vicars's Inde.v to the Prerogative Wills of
Ireland is a valuable contribution to the sum
of excellent work already turned out in this
departmentof investigation. He has arranged
and, for the first time, given to the public
the indexes compiled for the Irish Record
Commission by his predecessor in office. Sir
WiUiam Betham. For the purposes of the
genealogist wills are all-important, giving,
as they frequently do, particulars concerning
several generations of a family, such as
names, kinship and aUiances, property and
social position, besides autographs, and,
when of earlier date, seals of arms. To
criticise such a book as this is impossible.
Its merit must lie in its completeness and
in its scrupulous accuracy, points which a
reviewer has no opportunity of testing ; but
that the handsome volume before us possesses
these essential qualities the name of the
present Ulster King of Arms will be sufficient
guarantee.

Memorials, Journal, and Correspondence of
Charles Cardale Bahington. (Cambridge:
MacmUlan & Bowes.)

Prof. Babington was a field botanist of
high repute. He worked hard at classifica-
tion, wrote the best of handbooks, and
became the leading authority on the innu-
merable forms assumed by the common
bramble. He was also a learned antiquarian,
a non-smoker, and a friend to missions. If
Prof. Mayor had expanded his obituary
notice in the Eagh into a memoir of a
hundred pages, we should have been grate-
ful. We are not grateful for an iU-Mranged
tome of five times that length which con-
tains among other things a diary extending
over sixty-six years, with entries of about
one line for each day, and forming appar-
ently a complete record of such exterior
facts of the Professor's life as the flowers
he picked and the men he met at dinner.
The voluminous correspondence, also, almost
entirely technical in character, is of no general
interest, and can be of very little scientific
value. It is a pity for the posthumous
reputation of many men that the preparation
of their biographies falls into the hands of
relatives with no literary understanding and
no sense of proportion.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.

A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

Shrewsbury. By Stauxey J. Weyman.

Eomantic history after Mr. Weyman's customary brave recipe.
The narrator was born near Bishop's Stortford in 1666 ("my
father, a small yeoman "), and subsequently he became the protige
of Charles, Duke of Shrewsbury, and the participator in the great
events of 1695 and 1696. The pages are busy with intrigue, plot
and counter-plot, blows and counter-blows. Eeaders who take up
the book and glancing at it find a too liberal allowance of

" D s " are warned that it is not an oath, but someone's name

thus presented in deference to the narrator's sense of delicacy.
The story has two dozen pictures. (Longmans & Co. 410 pp. 68.)

For the Eeligiox.

By Hamilton Drummond.

''Being the records," adds the author, " of Blaise De Bernauld."
The period is that just anterior to Dumas' Chicot cycle. Mr.

! Drummond, who is known to novel-readers for his Gobelin Grange,
has a vigorous pen and a nice feeling for romance. Here are a
few chapter-headings : " Why Marcel Eode Post from Paris " ;

j "Why the King Sent to Carmeux" ; " The Finding of the Witch-

I wife." (Smith, Elder & Co. 344 pp. 6s,)

< LEO THE Magnificent. By " Z. Z."

I Morgan Druce is a poet ; Cleo is an adventuress of considerable
j personal attraction. Morgan is dreaming away his life and
I avoiding facts when he meets her. He is in love with another
I woman, but he marries Cleo, and his eyes are opened. Thus does
Cleo become his " Muse of the Eeal," which is the author's
I sub-title. Morgan wins his way back to serenity through hard
I work and privation. A sound piece of work. (W. Heinemann.
'313 pp. 6s.)

Against the Tide. By Mart Angela Dickens.

A study in homicidal mania and twins. The twins are a girl and
la boy, Hilary and Darrent ; and the homicidal maniac marries their
older sister. Those who know Miss Dickens's earlier novels will
feel sure that this is carefully written and carefuUy thought. It is,
indeed, an engrossing story, with a plot possessing merits of
novelty. (Hutchinson & Co. 357 pp. 6s.)

.Across Country. By John Gilbert.

I Here we have a sporting romance of the vmcompromising kind.
[If you do not care for the pigskin, you will not care for the hero,
IJack Merton, who is more centaur than man. The book is written
jwith a sprightly, though undistinguished, pen. (Digby, Long
S: Co. 255 pp. 3s. 6d.)

LhLBERT Malloy. By Campbell H. Sadler.

Mr. Sadler is a Salopian, and proud of it. In the wish to make
us all Salopians, at least in spirit, he wrote this romance of old
|3hrew8bury. The reason that it ends mournfully is that Mascagni's
ppera, " Cavalloria Eusticana," does — which is a naive confession.
By way of frontispiece you see the author's physiognomy, and
iearious photographs delay the tale. (Mowbray & Co. 280 pp.
'3s. 6d.)

\ Forgotten Sin. By Dorothea Gerard.

This is the story of a mercenary marriage. The financial crash
ivliich threatens Eobert Morell is averted, and the marriage of his
loung daughter Esme involves, after all, no sacrifice of her
lappiness. The character of her wayward and wealthy lover,
liarles Dennison, is subtly drawn ; and the scene in the stock-
broker's office, when Mr. Morell learns that Brazilian Stars are
dished," is well told. (Wm. Blackwood & Sons. 319 pp. 6s.)

A Christmas Accident,

and Other Stories.

By Annie Eliot Trumbull.

These stories, which appeared in various American magazines,
are good specimens of the American short story of domestic humours.
The first tells how the Giltons and Biltons lived unhappily as next-
door neighbours by reason of Mr. Gilton's and Mr. Bilton's quarrel-
someness. The Giltons had money, but no children or happiness ;
the Biltons were numerous and cheerful, but poor. After
many disagreements caused on one occasion by the butcher's
boy leaving the Giltons' joints at the Biltons' door (once the
Biltons consumed an entire Gilton dinner under pure misappre-
hension), a reconciliation is brought about by a happy "device.
(Hodder & Stoughton. 233 pp. 3s. 6d.)

A Daughter of Astrea.

By E. Phillips Oppenheim.

An extravaganza that opens on a Pacific island, where stands
" the sacred temple of the people of Astrea," and ends in Piccadilly.
It is perhaps needless to say that a beautiful maiden is about to be
sacrificed and that the hero saves her. The rest is high priests and
rubies and temple shades. But a white-robed high priest
who leaves the "Hills of Eubies," pursues his victim with a
steamer-load of bloodthirsty natives, and who turns up later at the
Empire Music-hall in "faultless evening dress," is a somewhat
strained link between barbarism and civilisation. (J. W. Arrow-
smith. 191 pp. Is.)

A Woman Tempted Him. By William Westall.

A woman tempted him with £10,000 to compass the death of hia
friend, the heir to millions. A clergyman's wife too ! He was
proof against the bribe ; and the heir, of his own accord, skated on
unsafe ice and was drowned. Suspicion and exoneration followed.
A rather clever, but in the main a sordid, story. (Chatto & Windus.
301 pp. 6s.)

John Armstrong.

By Major Greenwood.

This story is laid at Norwich, and is almost entirely medical in
its interest, the chief incident being a libel action brought by Dr.
John Armstrong, against a surgeon who charged him with having
performed a reckless operation at St. Bamabas's Hospital,
resulting in the death of the patient. We cannot think that this
long novel is calcidated to interest the ordinary reader. (Digby,
Long, & Co. 322 pp. 6s.)

REVIEWS.

The Tragedy of tlw'J'Koroiho" By A. Conan Doyle. Illustrated.
(Smith, Elder & Co.)

Mr. Doyle went to Egypt in the capacity of war correspondent to
the Westminster Gautte. The impressions gained during this
expedition he has worked up into a romance. That about sums
up all that need be said of The Tragedy of the " Korosko,^' which is
a rather lightly constructed work, im worthy, qiid literature, of the
author of The White Company and Micuh Clarke. Nevertlieless,
Mr. Doyle's light work has qualities which make it worth reading,
if not exactly worth keeping : it is fluent, and the plot seldom
falters. In the present instance, a party of tourists visiting the
rock of Abousir, beyond the Second Cataract, are pounced upon and
carried off by Dervishes. Their donkey boys, escort, and two of
themselves fall victims to the necessity for introducing scones of
Baggara bloodshed and brutality. The rest are bound, gagged,
and hustled off across the desert, until they fall into the hands of
the Emir Abderrahman, who insists that they shall become converted
or die. A moolah is deputed to attend to their spiritual needs,

174

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Tkb. 12, 1898.

and, with the aid of a typical Frenchman, who is one of the victims,
they endeavour to protract his ministrations and soothe suspicion
until a rescue party should have time to get on their track. Mr.
Doyle, however, makes a couple of his Irish Catholics give the
game away, and the scene which follows is one of the finest in
the hook :

" 'Sure we're in God's hands, anyway,' said Mrs. Belmont, in her
soothing Irish voice. ' Kneel down with me, John, dear, if it's the last
time, and pray that, earth or heaven, we may not be divided.'

' Don't do that, don't ! ' cried the Colonel anxiously, for he saw that
the eye of the moolah was upon them. But it was too late, for the two
Roman Cathohcs had dropped upon their knees, and crossed themselves.
A spasm of fury passed over the face of the Mussulman priest at this
pubhc testimony to the failure of his missionary efforts. He turned and
said something to the Emir.

' Stand up ! ' cried Mausoor. ' For your life's sake, stand up ! He is
asking for leave to put you to death.'

' Let him do what he Ukes ! ' said the obstinate Irishman. ' We wiU
rise when our prayers are finished, and not before.'

' Don't be a fool, Belmont I ' cried the Colonel. ' Everything depends
on our humouring them. Do get up, Mrs. Belmont ! You are only
putting their backs up ! '

The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders as he looked at them.

' Mon Dieu ! ' he cried, ' were there ever such impracticable people '^
Voild ! ' he added with a shriek, as the two American ladies fell ui^on
their knees beside Mrs. Belmont. ' It is Uke the camels ; one down, all
down ! Was ever anything so absurd ? '

But Mr. Stephens had knelt down beside Sadie and buried his
haggard face in his long thin hands. Oidy the Colonel and M.
Fardet remained standing. Cochrane looked at the Frenchman with an
interrogative eye.

' After all,' he said, ' it is stupid to pray all your life, and not to pray
now when we have nothing to hope for except through the goodness of
Providence. He dropped upon his knees with a rigid military back, but
his grizzled, unshaven chin upon his breast. The Frenchman looked at
his koeeling companions, and then his ejes travelled to the angry faces
of the Emir and moolah.

' Sapristi ! ' he growled. ' Do they suppose that a Frenchman is
afraid of them ? ' and so with an ostentatious sign of the cross he took
his place beside the others. Foul, bedraggled and wretched, the seven
figures knelt and waited humbly for their fate under the shadow of the
palm-trees."

Of course, in the end the party are rescued from their dreadful
predicament by a flying squadron of " Gippies " from Wady Haifa ;
and the incident gives Mr. Doyle his chance to throw in a pretty
description of desert warfare. There are many touches of an
observant eye also scattered throughout the book, and little
revelations of "purpose" crop out here and there, not always so
intimately blended with the regular strata as artistic considerations
would demand. As the purpose is, however, mainly the defence
of our position and work in Egypt there is little cause for
complaint on this score, though some who do not know the reptile
French press of Egypt, and the jealousy of which Frenchmen in
Egypt are capable, may think that an unfair use has been made
of M. Fardet and his political ravings. To such there always
remains an interesting subject for study in the history of the
barrage at the Delta, as told in the French Cairene newspapers.
And when they have perused the intricacies of that entertaining
narrative, which is itself as good as a novel, they will perhaps be
less inclined to resent the use which Mr. Doyle has made of his, in
many ways charming and gallant. Frenchman.

» # # #

The Confemon of Stephen Whapshare. By Emma Brooke.
(Hutchinson & Co.)

The _ chief fault of this story is a certain crudeness ; and we
say this in full view of the fact that the writer has published
several novels, one of which was conspicuously successful. Stephen
Whapshare is a strong, self-educated man of the people who, in his
youth, marries a saintly and invalid wife. Her whims and piety
keep him always in a morbid atmosphere, and his manhood is
sapped for the lack of the living, breathing world. Then the other
woman, Ellinor, comes on the scene and tempts him to break his
chain. He gives his wife an overdose of chloral, and she dies ; but
he finds himself no nearer liberty, for his crime stands before him,
and he dare not accept the other woman's love. In the end they
separate to work out their own salvations, and he wins peace only
by finding a man more wretched than himself and setting him on
the road to happiness. The book closes with a sort of religious ecstasy.

The work has power, which lies chiefly in the epic sequence of
the narrative, the imaginative use of landscape, the frequent
subtlety in the characterisation, and the real vigour and charm of
much of the phrasing. Occasionally this same fashion of writing is
overdone, and the note is too high-pitched and hysterical. But the
main fault is this — that the book which begins in drama shades off
into rhetoric and ends incoherently. In the early chapters, the
strong man and his helpless, self-indulgent, pietistic wife are very
real people, and their quick estrangement has the irony of fine
work. But with the murder reality leaves the tale. We find
ourselves in the wastes of turgid self-analysis, where every mood
and every speech is strained and histrionic. The writer no longer
thinks of the human drama : it is now a story of mental states
where action is less important than the moral lesson it symbolises.
Finally, it all ends with logical correctness, but without proper
emotional eifect, since a statement of religious beliefs is no fitting
consummation to a tale of the " hunger for life." The incident
of Pete Labrum all but revives interest, save that it is too obviously
introduced for its ethical significance and not for its pure narrative
quality. The book is clever in its way, but in our judgment the
writer has been tempted to forget that emotion is not touched by a
mere narrative of emotion and to fall from fiction to rhapsody.

# « « «

This Little World. By D. Christie Murray.

(Chatto & Windus.)

The plot of This Little World is simple enough. A village youth
and a village maiden leave their native hamlet — one to become a
great artist, the other to become a famous singer; and in the end they
marry one another. Mr. Murray, however, is independent of his plot,
and succeeds in interesting us by the delicacy of his characterisation.
The ex-pugUist and his fellow-villagers at Wood Side are excellently
drawn ; so, too, are half a score of minor characters, such as Sloman,
the picture dealer, and Cassidy, the Irish friend of Jack Cutler, the
artist. Any artist who is disturbed by the criticism of the provincial
press may listen to Mr. Cassidy, who thought there was a coalition
against Jack :

" ' Coalition be hanged ! ' said Jack. ' These notices come from every
comer of Great Britain.'

' Don't ye beheve it, me boy,' said Cassidy. ' They go to every corner
of Great Britain, but they're written, every loine of 'em. in Fleet-street.
Did ye ever see a first noight at the theatre ? There's sixty critics there,
we'll say, and ye'll fancy that ye'd get sixty opinions, wouldn't ye ? Ye'll
not get two. They'll get together in the bar, and the little fry will
listen to what the big fish have to say, and the biggest fish among the
big fish will bark the other Johnnies down.'

' That's a pretty simile. Bill,' said Jack."

It is pleasant to be able to congratulate Mr. Murray on having
written a — is it a thirty-third ? — novel as good as this.

» % ■» *

A Man of tlie Moors. By Halliwell SutclifEe.
(Kegan Paul, Trench, Triibner & Co.)

This book affords one more proof that there is abundance of novel-
writing capacity wasted for lack of patience and care and labour.
We propose to show what Mr. Sutcliffe ought to have done if he
had been in less hurry and more anxious to give us of his best.

First, then, Leo Euddick, and the besotted "thing" who is
legally his wife, and the yoxmg woman he is in love with, should
have been ruthlessly eliminated ; they have appeared before in the
fiction of the moors, they formed the chief dramatis persona of Jaw
Eyre. Here they are not only a plagiarism, they are superfluous.
Secondly, the leading women need bracing and tightening up.
The heroine is the ill-used wife of a driinken stonemason. She is
divorced before being married to the hero. Mr. Sutcliffe has not
half thought her out. On the one hand, she is iU-iised to such an
extent that it leads to her early death ; she is nightly assailed with
foul language, and goes through unutterable horrors. Nevertheless,
she has refinement and charm enough to captivate an artist, a
gentleman, and a squire of dames united, in the person of Griff
Lomax. The novelist entirely fails to make this affair credible.
And the other married woman of the tragedy is a still more
flagrant contradiction in terms. Her action is constant, passionate,
unconventional; but he describes her — is forced to describe her
by the exigencies of the story — as a shallow society fool. One
way or the other, Mrs. Ogilvie cries aloud for revision.

m. 13, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

Second, when he does get a woman fairly right he is apt to
spoil a good idea with rhetoric : for example, old Mother Strange-
ways, drunkard, witch, and murderess, is extremely well conceived,
and wanted only working out to become remarkable. The author,
too, saw what was needed. He invented a superstition for her — that
when an old clock tumbled she would die. In her own words :

" ' Sitha, lad ! It wobbles summat fearful, does th' owd clock. First to
right, then to left, it wobbles reg'lar. Tick-tack, tick-tack goes the
inside — an' tick-tack, tick-tack goes th' outside, keeping time. It's a
sign, Joe : I'm noan long for this world, now that th' owd clock has ta'en
to wobbling. Five-and-eighty year we've bided together — tick-tack,
tick-tack, me an' th' clock— and now it's started to dither. Tha'U noan
hev a grandam sooin, Joe."

What a grim, horrible humour might have been brought to play
here ! But the author was in too much of a hurry ; perhaps he
, thought it more effective to make the old hag's deathbed the scene
' of a final and melodramatic attempt at murder. And so, for want
of patience and consideration, the opportunities of good work are
passed by, and the space fiUed with commonplace sensationalism.

We write thus seriously because Mr. HaUiwell SutclifEe shows
trace of a very high ability indeed. Almost without exception his
men are well conceived and skilfully presented. The best of them
is a squire of the old school, who apparently has lived up to the
advice he bestows on another : " Eide straight, drive level, never
repent of your sins, and die as I find you, a jolly good fellow."
Indeed, the hero, the preacher, the inn-keeper, all the rogues and
wastrels of the Yorkshire moor, are full of life — as wild, pagan,
drinking, swearing, fighting crew as one could wish to see. If Mr.
SutclifEe would only forget all he has read in other novels and paint
this life, as seen by his own eyes, he would make a book worth
keeping.

THE NEW CHILD'S GUIDE TO LITERATUEE.

The monthly magazine edited by Mr. Arthur Pendenys, andcfilled
Ths Books of To-^y and the Books of To-morrow, contains many good
things. Here is a sample :

Q. What are Bacchy-hdes ?

A. Well, when you pronoimce it like that, I should say a'society
of women who smoke. But you may as well ask me, What are
Keats?

Q. Then what is Bacchylides ?

A. Bacchylides was a Greek poet.

Q. When did he flourish ?

A. In the fifth century B.C.

Q. Then why is there all this talk about him now ?

A. Because his works have recently been discovered and pub-
lished.

Q. Are the poems good reading ?

A. Not unless you know Greek.

Q. And then ?

A. Then they are not exciting.

Q. What are they about ?

A. Among other things, the Isthmian Games.

Q. WUl you repeat one ? \_Ee repeats one.']

A. Thank you, I prefer Barnum's Olympia.

Q. Who is Stephen Phillips?

A. Another poet.

Q. Is he Greek too ?

A. No, he's English, but he has the Greek spirit.

Q. What rot ! How old is he ?

A. He is not yet thirty.
I Q. Where does he live ?
I A. He lives at Ashford.
' Q. But I thought the Poet Laureate lived there ?

A. There are two Ashfords.

Q. I am glad of that : I was afraid he might be a Conservative
jdiimalist. Has he always been in the poetry business ?

A. No, he was once an actor. He was considered to be one of
the best Ghosts in the provinces.

Q. What are the titles of his poems ?

A. One is "Christ in Hades," another " The Woman with the
Dead Soul."

Q. How ripping ! Is he a good poet ?
I A. His not known ; but he writes good poetry,
i Q. Is it as good as The Bab Ballads ?

A. Husb!

PATHOS AND THE PUBLIC.

A REFERENCE WO saw the other day to the collection of "Most
Pathetic Lines in Literature," made some years ago by the Pall
Mall Gazette, led us to look up our back files of that paper ; and we
take leave to glean in that forsaken field. It was on January 15,
1894, that the following "Occasional Note" appeared in ihe Pall
Mall Gazette :

" We were talking at dinner, and some foolish fellow asked what was
the most pathetic Bne or two lines in the poetry of all languages ?
Readers and correspondents, answer. We, as the bookmakers, will offer
four against the field and stand our chance :

Insatiabiliter deflebimus, setemumque
Nulla dies nobis mcerorem e pectore demet.

Lucretius.

Tendebantque manus ripee ixlterioris amore.

VlEGIL.

I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.

Shakespeare.

loh werde Zeit genug an Euch zu denken haben.

Goethe.
Beat these, any of you, if you can."

The readers of the Pall Mall Gazette took up the challenge.
Scores of "most pathetic lines in literature" poured into the
editor's box, and were duly printed. As time went on, and as the
great heart of the public became wrimg, the space allotted to these
chips of pathos grew, until it seemed as if the Pall Mall Gazette
were about to dissolve in tears. But the editor at last cried
" Enough ! " and the rage for pathetic lines subsided. The lines
remain, and we print below a selection :

Comfort ? Comfort scorned of devils ' This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.

Tennyson.

Never morning wore
To evening but some heart did break.

Tennyson.

Lear Do not laugh at me ;

For as I am a man I think this lady

To be my child, Cordelia.
Cordelia. And so I am, I am.

Shakespeare.

Through the sad heart of Euth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.

Keats.

If the hand that I love lay me low.
There cannot be pain in the blow.

Byron.

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon.
Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse,
Without all hope of day.

Milton.

Had we never lov'd sae kindly.
Had we never lov'd sae bUudly,
Never met — or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken hearted.

Burns.

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not aldn to pain.
And resembles sorrow only.

As the mist resembles the rain.

Longfellow.

I am dying, Egypt, dying, only
I here importune death awhile until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.

Shakespeare.

So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

Tennyson.

For some they have died, and some they have left me.
And some are taken from me ; all are departed,
AU, aU are gone, the old familiar faces.

Charlbs Lamb.

My heart is in the coffin there with CiBsar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

Shakxspease.

17X)

THE ACADEMY SUPP^^EMEl^T.

[Feb, 12, 1898.

Deep as first love, and wild with all regret —
Oh, Death in Life ! the days that are no more.

Tennyson.

When dreamless rest is mine, I shall not need
The tenderness for which I long to-night.

But 0 the heavy changes, now thou art gone,
Now thou art gone and never must return !

Milton.

No more, no mere, oh, never more on me
The freshness of the heart like dew shall fall !

Byeon.

O the insufferable eyes of these poor might-have-beens,
These fatuous, ineffectual yesterdays I

W. E. Henley.

The pale moon is setting beyond the white wave,

And time is setting with me, O !
Farewell, false friends ; false lover, farewell !

I'll never mair trouble them nor thee, O !

Burns.

The only loveless look, the look wherewith you passed :
'Twas all unlike your great and gracious ways.

Coventry Patmore.

Gilt with sweet day's decUne,
And sad with promise of a different sun.

Coventry Patmore.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, aU that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Gray.
Pear no more the heat of the sun
Nor the furious winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done.
Home art gone and ta'en thy wages.

Shakespeare.

I was so young, I loved him so, I had
No mother, God forgot me, and I fell.

Edward Berdoe.

To sit in your straight-laced heaven

Where saints and angels sing,
And never hear a pheasant caw.

Nor the whirr of a partridge wing.

A Lincolnshire Poacher.

I do love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.

Shakespeare.

And to be wroth with what we love
Doth work like madness on the brain.

Coleridge.

It was a childish ignorance, but now 'tis little joy

To know I'm farther off from heaven than when I was a boy.

Tom Hood.
We thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died.

Hood.

The heartless and intolerable
Indignity of " earth to earth."

Coventry Patmore.

My long-lost beauty, hast thou folded quite
Thy wings of morning light ?

O. W. Holmes.
The moving finger writes : and having writ,
Moves on : nor all your piety nor wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor aU your tears wash out a word of it.

Edward FitzGeeald's Omar Khayyam.

It is not in the shipwreck, or the strife.
We feel benumbed, and wish to be no more,
But in the after-silence on the shore,
Where all is lost except a little life.

Byron.
She never told her love.

Shelley.

A wise man is as foolish as a child,

And wanton if a woman whispers " Wait ! "

Edmund Gosse.

SOME APHOEI8M8.

IV.— "Guesses at Truth."

The Guesses at Truth of the brothers Augustus and Julius Hare
appeared anonymously- in 1827. The work was written by the two
brothers in conjunction at Oxford, but it had its special origin in
the commonplace book of Augustus and in the enthusiasm of
Julius. In 1838, after the death of Augustus, Julius Hare brought
out a new and revised edition of the Guesses. ' ' Many parts were
re-written, much more added, essays of considerable length over-
shadowed the pithy, preg^nant sentences which had before been its
characteristic, and the share of the surviviag brother in the work
became by far the larger." A Second Series of the Guesses
appeared in 1848. The present Eversley volume contains the two
series. It is the eighth re^jrint issued by Messrs. Macmillan, who
included it in their "Golden Treasury" series more than twenty-
five years ago. The following sentences may be taken as typical
of the work in its earliest form.

Some people carry their hearts in their heads ; very many carry
their heads in their hearts. The difficulty is to keep thorn apart,
and get both actively working together.

Since the generality of persons act from impulse, much more than
from principle, men are neither so good nor so bad as wo are apt to
think them.

I could hardly feel much confidence in a man who had never
been imposed upon.

The man who will share his wealth with a woman has some love
for her ; the man who can resolve to share his poverty with her has
more ... of course supposing him to be a man, not a child,
or a beast.

Many a man's vices have at first been nothing more than good
qualities run wild.

Trtith, when witty, is the wittiest of aU things.

Self-depreciation is not humility, though often mistaken for it.
Its source is oftener mortified pride.

Be what you are. This is the first step toward becoming better
than you are.

Crimes sometimes shock us too much ; vices almost always too
little.

Many Italian girls are said to profane the black veil by taking
it against their will ; and so do many English girls profane the
white one.

Our appetites are given to us to jjreserve and to propagate life.
We abuse them for its destruction.

None but a fool is always right; and his right is the most
unreasonable wrong.

When a man says he sees nothing in a book he very often means
that he does not see himself in it ; which, if it is not a comedy or a
satire, is likely enough.

What a person praises is perhaps a surer standard, even than
what he condemns, of his character, information, and abilities. No
wonder, then, that in this prudent coimtry most people are so shy of
praising anything.

Mere art perverts taste ; just as mere theology depraves religion.

The feeling is oftener the deeper trutii, the opinion the more
superficial one.

Temporary madness may perhaps be necessary in some cases to
cleanse and renovate the mind ; just as a fit of illness is to carry off
the humours of the body.

Is not every true lover a martyr ?

Contrast is a kind of relation.

Half the failures in life arise from pulling in one's horse as he is
leaping.

Curiosity is little more than another name for hope.

After casting a glance at our own weaknesses, how eagerly does
our vanity console itself with deploring the infirmities of our friends.

Feb. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

177

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY /2, /S98.
No. 1S45, New Series.

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TiiK AcAUESfT M ptihlished every Friday mom-
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not later than 4 p.m. on Thursday.

Tlie Editor will make every effort to return
rejected contributions, provided a stamped and
addressed envelope is enclosed.

Occasional contributors are recommended to have
their MS. type-written.

All business letters regarding the supply of
the paper, ^-c, should be addressed to the
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43, Chancery Lane, W. C.

might go to
desire it.

America, though he did not

NOTES AND NEWS.

The next day an old gentleman called on
the auctioneer and inquired with suppressed
excitement what woidd be the value of a
copy of " Bums " printed in 1600.

"We quote from the Daily News the follow-
ing sonnet by Canon Rawnsley, addressed
to Mr. Euskln in honour of his seventy-
ninth birthday :

'•Born in our monster Babylon, to decree

The blasting of all Babylons— and ordained
To be her avant-courier who has reigned
Longest and best— we give God thanks for
thee.

Tho' conquering hosts encompass land and
sea,
And men of arms her Empire have main-
tained,
Thou art her mightiest warrior, thou hast
gained
By power of wisdom wider sovereignty.

Wherefore to thee, for whom this day has
brought
The golden crown thy eightieth year shall
wear,
We bring the tribute ot our love and
praise.
And borne from far-off centuries we hear
Proud acclamation of the seer who wrought
Undying splendour for Victorian days."

THE Kilmarnock "Burns," which was
purchased by Mr. Sabin at Edin-
burgh last Monday for the price of 545
guineas, was not a commission, but a
speculation on the part of the purchaser.
The interest of the Edinburgh public in the
sale was intense, and the room in which Mr.
Dowell, the auctioneer (who is over eighty
years of age), performed his duties, was
packed to suffocation. The dealers, too,
were there in force ; for no such " Burns "
has come into the market for years.
Thirty g^neas was the first bid, which
the auctioneer ignored. Then fifty, then
seventy-five, then a hundred ! The bidding
ran quickly up to 300 guineas. Only
then did Mr. Sabin join in the contest. He
had gone down to Edinburgh with the firm
intention to bring the book back with him
to London.

Mr. Eichardson, a Glasgow bookseller,
Iropped out at the 300 - guineas stage.
He remarked patriotically afterwards that
he wished he had run the volume up
to 750 guineas. The battle was now
between Mr. Pearson and Mr. Sabin, both
of London. They raised their bids, by five
pounds a Itid, rapidly, until 600 guineas
was reached. Loud cheers now broke out.
^Ir. Sabin wavered, and allowed himself a
long and risky pause. But the cheering
had heartened him, and he bid another five
guineas. The bidding of the two dealers
then became slow, and there were hesita-
tions. The figure crept up to 540 guineas,
bid by Mr. Pearson. Mr. Sabin said,
" 545." There was a long silence, and the
hammer fell amid cheering sucli as, it is
said, had never been heard

Londoners are very slow to avail them-
selves of that which they can have for
nothing. When Mr. Birrell, Q.C., M.P., is
announced to lecture at the Westminster
Town Hall you can hardly get a seat for
love or money. When, in his capacity of
Quain Professor of Law at University
College, he delivered his first discourse at
the Old Hall, Lincoln's Inn, his audience,
though there was nothing to pay, consisted
of some thirty people, including several
journalists, and half a dozen natives of
India, wiser in their generation than their
white-skinned fellow-subjects. It is true
that "Copyright" is not at first sight a
very attractive subject to the general public,
in spite of the fact that every one now
writes ; but Mr. Birrell has the happy gift
of making dull things interesting.

These extracts will be sufficient to show the
sort of fare to be expected by anyone who
is in the neighbourhood of Lincoln's Inn at
half-past four on Mondays and Fridays.

Mr. Austin Dobson writes : " In your last
week's 'Notes and News,' apropos of Mr.
Clinton ScoUard's graceful verses in Scribner,
you quote — ' The old poet's plea :

" O f or a book in a shadie nook 1 " '

The reference is, I presiune, to the following,
which I have seen in different places, but
transcribe now from Alexander Ireland's
Book-Lover's Enchiridion, 1885, p. 35 :

' O for a Booke and a shadie nooke,
eyther iu-a-doore or out ;
With the grene leaves whisp'ring overhede,
or the Streete cryes all about.

Where I maie Reade all at my ease,

both of the Newe and Olde ;
For a jollie goode Booke whereon to looke,

Is better to me than Golde.'

Ireland entitles this ' Old English Song.'
But I am under the impression that the late
Mr. John Wilson, bookseller, of 12, "King
William-street, Charing Cross, told me, some
time before his death in 1889, that he was
the author of the liaes, which he had
inserted in one of his second-hand Cata-
logues, where, I fancy, I saw it. Mr.
Wilson was a bookseller of that elder race
who loved books almost too well to sell
them. His knowledge, to which I have
often been indebted, was exceptional ; and
he was, withal, a modest, kindly man.
Perhaps some of your readers may have
heard this story, and may be able to confirm
my recollection."

LiAMABTiNE, as a minister, took a very
different view of copyright from that which
he had expressed before his elevation to
of&ce. Upon which Mr. Birrell remarked :
" "Wlien a literary statesman says that he is
going to speak not as a writer, but as a
politician, we know that it is a strange gta.ce
to an odd kind of meat — he is going to
eat his own words." One of the reasons
why the copjniight question did not begin
to "bum" until comparatively recently is
that in olden days "the British author
after his first publication usually dis-
appeared — or only reappeared in the
pillory." The terms of copyright vary
remarkably in different countries. In
Mexico, Guatemala, and "Venezuela — " three
not very literary States" — it is perpetual,
while in the United States it lasts only
twenty-eight years, though a fiu'ther period
of fo>irteen years can be granted if the

In commenting upon Mr. St. Loe
Strachey's lecture on "Tennyson" at
Toynbee Hall last week. Canon Barnett
remarked on the field offered by the East
End to the true poet. The East End, more-
over, he said, wants poets and poetry. So,
he added (we quote from the Telegraph's
report): "Let the poets come among them
and sing. Their hearts would break, of
course, but true poets accept heartbreak
as a part of the conditions of their mission."

in any auction
room. Mr. Sabin stUl holds the book, and j author, his widow, or one of his children is
its destination is uncertain. He admitted i^ [ alive at the expiration of the first term.

Meanwhile, an anonymous poet, who has
some claim to be heard, has been at work in
the East End to some purpose. His theme
is the attempted rescue of a tiny child from
burning, in a lamp accident at Mile-end,
by Alfred Henry "NVood, a little boy aged
twelve, who, in his endeavours, was himself
burnt to death. The poet, whose ballad
is printed in the Morning Leader, begins :

" Yer tells us it's bloo blood as tells, and points
to mihutary swells as types of British
'ardi'ood ;
I aiu't sergestin' that's no lie ; but how're yer
going to classerf y such tyiies as little Alfred
Wood -f "

And this is the conclusion :

" There's heroes in this week's Gazette, though
Alfred Wood ain't mentioned yet ; but many
a 'art beats 'igh with pride •

To bo of that syme blood as 'e— bloo blood or
red blood it may be — wot dared the fierce
red death, and died.

irs

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

There ain't no blyme to oarst on them w'ich

wears some sparklin' diadem by w'ich their

noble breedin's showed ;
But this I knows from wot I reads, if noble

blood means noble deeds, yer'll find it o£F

the Mile-end-rd.
West-end and Mile-end's just abart a hour's

ride on a 'bus apart ; and though, as Mr.

Kiplin' said.
The ' East is East and West is West,' till

somethe'n puts 'em to the test yer carn't

tell w'ich is better bred."

The following reminiscence of "Walt
Whitman is offered by Joaquin Miller in one
of the footnotes to the new complete edition
of his poems, to which we make reference
elsewhere. Joaquin Miller was visiting
Longfellow at the time of Garfield's as-
sassination. He writes : "A publisher
solicited from each of the several authors
then in and about Boston some tribute of
sorrow for the dead. The generous sum of
100 dollars was checked as an earnest. I
remember how John Boyle O'EeUly and I
went to big-hearted AValt Whitman, and
wrestled with him in a vain effort to make
him earn and accept his 100 dollars, ' Yes,
I'm sorry as the sorriest ; sympathise with
the great broken heart of the world over
this dead sovereign citizen. But I've
nothing to say.' And so, persuade as we
might, even till past midnight, Walt
Whitman would not touch the money or try
to write a line. He was poor ; but bear it
for ever in testimony that he was honest, and
would not promise to sell that which he felt
that God had not at that moment given him
to sell. And hereafter, whenever any of
you are disposed to speak or even think
unkindly of Walt Whitman, remember this
refusal of his to touch a whole heap of
money when he might have had it for ten
lines, and, maybe, less than ten minutes'
employment. I love him for it."

In another place, speaking of the
different methods of authors, Joaquin
Miller says of Bret Harte : "He once
told me that his first line was always a
cigar, and sometimes two cigars. I reckon
Walt Whitman could write anywhere. I
once was with him on top of a Fifth
Avenue omnibus, above a sea of people,
when he began writing on the edge of a
newspaper, and he kept it up for half an
hour, although his elbow was almost con-
tinuously tangled up with that of the
driver,"

The translation by Mr. J. G. Frazer,
author of The Oolden Bough, with introduc-
tion and commentary, of Pausanias's Descrip-
tion of Greece, is to be published by Messrs.
Macmillan & Co. on February 18. The
introduction covers nearly a hundred pages,
and the Commentary fills four ample
volumes. Mr. Frazer has spent many years
upon this great work, and that his Com-
mentary has grown to such bulk wUl be
evidence of the thoroughness with which
he has accomplished his task. Account has
been taken in the addenda, which are con-
tained in the fifth volume, of the latest
discoveries in Gfreece up to within the last
few months. The illustrations, which are

numerous — are not intended so much as
works of art in themselves, but as elucida-
tions of the text, being mainly confined to
reproductions of monuments and objects
actually described by Pausanias, or, in the
too numerous cases where the originals have
disappeared, of others which are thought
to give some idea of their character.

Mr. Francis Gribblb's new novel. Sun-
light and Limelight : a Story of the Stage Life
and the Real Life, will be published next
week.

In an account of Mr. Gladstone which is
published in the Youths^ Companion we find
him saying, ajiropos of international copy-
right : "What should it matter where a
a book is printed ? A book is made in
the head." But we cannot agree with the
sentiment. It is important, for example,
that such a novel as Miss Dickens's
Against the Tide (Hutchinson & Co.), which
is noticed in this week's "Fiction Guide,"
should have been printed in England and
not in Holland. The purposes of copyright
do not here enter into the case : loyalty to
British printers, the best in the world, does.

Mk. Fisher Unwin's Library of Literary
Histories is to beg^n with Mr. E. W.
Frazer's Literary History of India, which is
now ready. Few men are more steeped in
Eastern lore than the author of Silent Gods
in Sunsteeped Lands and the History of British
India. When Mr. Frazer was a civil ser-
vant in India, his knowledge of Sanskrit
enabled him to get "within the veil," behind
which the natives, taught by long experience
of subjection, live their real Hves.

At the same time we are not greatly
enamoured of the title which the publisher
has found for the series. From a sort of
advertisement of the library we gather,
after some mock-heroics about " the
trumpet-caU of battle," the "panorama of
kings and queens," " imperishable master-
pieces," and so forth, that it is with "the
literature of nations" that the series is
intended to deal. Why don't they say so
in the title? A "literary history" is not
necessarily a history of literature ; the late
Mr. Froude might have used the adjective
to distinguish his work from that of Mr.
Freeman. Marcel Schwob, we presume, is
writing the history of French literature —
not really a literary history of France. But
probably the ambiguity was ingeniously
contrived to g^ve occasion for the picturesque
advertisement. Without it there would
have been no excuse for talking of " the
panorama of kings and queens " and for
boasting that "the poets are the true
masters of the earth."

Mr. Henley's contribution to the first
number of The Outlook is by way of being
a reply to the criticisms on his recent Essay
on Bums which the Bums' Night brought
forth. Some of them were sufficiently
provocative of retort. Mr. Henley swiftly
sums up these festivities : " Half -read
M.P.'s and sheriffs, and divines and pro-
vosts flushed with literary patriotism, call

on their countrymen to drink the Immortal ,
Memory. And the Immortal Memory is
drunk, and ' Tam o' Shanter ' is recited,
and there are potations pottle deep, and
everybody goes home to bed convinced
once more that Bums is the greatest poet in
time."

But Bums is not the greatest poet in time :
moreover, he is the " Poet of the Uncritical "
— that is Mr. Henley's assertion ; and if we
would sift the mystery of these false eulogies
to the bottom, we should find that Thomas
Carlyle is the fount and origin of the evQ.
In his Edinburgh essay on Bums, Carlyle,
" that rare and excellent hater of all things
magnificated and insincere," who "couldn't
drink, and therefore hated liquor," who
" danced never to the tune of Light o'
Love," proves himself practically the father
of "all them that babble in Bums' Club."
So Mr. Henley roundly affirms. We should
like to hear Carlyle on the matter.

Punches "Animal Land" continues to be
very funny. Abandoning politicians, for
the time being, at any rate, the witty
zoologist who is responsible for the series
comes this week to literature and art. We
have the Zolafite, the Trimmadome or
WUlirich (Mr. W. B. Eichmond, E.A.), and
the Euddikipple, with appropriate cuts by
the ingenious Mr. Eeed. The Zolafite is
thus described :

" This Animal is very bold and currageous.
He is very clever at his work but he gets very
broad in places. The lower down things are
the harder he tries to get them out. The Troof
is buried very deep just now and that is what
he is looking for. So they are all dancing with
rage and say he is a Itallian. "

And this is the account of the Euddi-
kipple, whose name we need hardly trans-
late:

"This little Animal is very strong and
viggTous and knows everything. If anybody
tries to beat it it brings out a fresh tail and
then nobody can't touch that either. It stirs
everbody up so it would make a pew-opener
want to die for his country. If a Lorryit shews
his nose it just squashes him flat."

Punch has rarely had a better idea, and
it is being worked out admirably. Eumour
has it that the new Buffon is Mr. Seaman.

Lord Tennyson is just now engaged upon
writing new notes to certain of his father's
poems, which wUl see the light in a forth-
coming edition. Maudvnil be out of copyright
next year ; but by incorporating new matter
of such interest as Lord Tennyson's notes
are likely to be, the publishers will probably
be able to retain a monopoly, even when
cheap rival editions appear,

Canon Eawnsley is endeavouring to
excite interest in the proposed Caedmon
memorial at Whitby. A committee has
been formed to erect a cross of Anghan
design, hewn from Northumbrian sandstone,
to the memory of the first English poet;
and it will be placed in the churchyard of
St. Mary's, Whitby, in what is probahly
part of the actual burial groimd where the
dust of Caedmon lies. He died in the year
680.

Tm. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

179

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED

EICHARD JEFFEEIES.

"VTO critic is able to pronounce an
_lN absolute and final judgment ; he
can only record his own impressions, and
their value depends on the reasonableness
and honesty with which they are set forth.
I shall make no apology, therefore, for
beginning this paper with a personal ex-
planation that is as likely to raise doubts of
the writer's competence as to inspire faith
in his verdict. It is this : never do I
remember to have read for pleasure a book
on natural history. I have lived an out-
door life, and loved it. The smallest living
thing interests me, and clouds and sunsets,
I dim woodlands and high mountains, wheat
I and woodland, tilth and vineyard, hive and
horse and hill, have for me an inexhaustible
, attraction. But even when boxed up in town
I I would never dream of reading natural
I history for amusement. It is not that it has
j been neglected, either. I have gone over
1 nearly the whole corpus of works in natural
history, but the books have been used
exclusively to clear up doubtful points, to
1 supplement an incomplete knowledge acqtiired
] from personal observation. To say that
they have been almost invariably read
through the index will plainly show the
part tiiey have played.

But, on the other hand, a poet's descrip-
tion of nature has always attracted me
beyond measure if only it were of the very
first quality. If it were not that, then it
was as dull as natural history itself. I
remember when a child someone gave me
a copy of Thomson's " Seasons," and I
detested it; but the same poet's " Castle of
Indolence " was charming. Long before
these lines were fully understood they had
rooted themselves in my mind :

" I care not, Fortune, what you me deny;
You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace ;
You cannot shut the windows of the sky
Through which Aurora shows her brightening
face."

This Aurora was not to my boyish mind
a goddess or abstraction ; she was a rich-
eyed, red-lipped girl who " oft in visions of
ithe night, and oft in fancy's airy dream,"
peeped through the panes of a little window
when moonlight fell on it, and the slender
[sprays of a small red rose made a trembling
shadow on the floor.

Gray's " Elegy," which it is the fashion to
leery at present by readers "corrupted
with literary prejudices," as Dr. Johnson
las it, gives, in my opinion, as no other poem
loes, the very atmosphere, physical and intel-
ectual, of the village. In town life the in-
dividual is lost in the crowd, but in the
iiimtry the steady march of the generations
splainly visible : the child playing ; manhood
.t toil ; old age passing where " the rude
orefathers of the hamlet sleep." Gray's
ein of thought is inevitable among those
rho " live the life " there, and it comes
ut in the best interpretations of the elegy —
"1 Burns, for instance, and in that most
uching of the essays of Jefferies, " My Old

Village " ; the sentiment of which is but an
expansion and personal application of the
verse :

" Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,

Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has
broke !
How jocund did they drive their team a field I
How bow'd the woods beneath their
sturdy stroke ! "

No, it was Johnson's strength that he
woidd not let himself be " corrupted with
literary prejudices " ; that he possessed
natural manhood enough to recognise a fine
rendering of the simple melancholy of
the village graveyard. " Had Gray often
written thus," he concludes, " it had been
vain to blame and useless to praise him."

But, independent of " atmosphere," inde-
pendent of feeling, a mere description, if it
be done supremely well, abides in the
memory. I remember reading for the first
time these two lines in " Hamlet," which
I have ever since regarded as a perfect
model of their kind :

" There is a willow grows aslant the brook,
That shows his hoar-leaves in the glassy
stream."

Simple, definite, concrete — that is the sort
of description which appealed most directly
to me. If there is vagueness, it must be
to make room for romance. I could picture
the willow scene on our own brook ; but,
to take another example of Shakespeare's
inimitable power, the pleasure derived from
the following lines is partly due to the
large play which is given to the imagination
of the reader :

" On such a night
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea banks, and waved her love
To come again to Carthage."

But one feels that in descanting upon
Shakespeare's unsurpassable open-air pic-
tures nothing can be said in praise that the
reader will not think short of the truth.
And the same might almost be asserted of
Milton. Take the scenes in these familiar
lines from " L' Allegro." They are beheld
as from some watch-tower in the skies :

" Eusset lawns and fallows gray
"Where the nibbhug flocks do stray,
Mountains on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often rest,
Meadows trim with daisies pied.
Shallow brooks with rivers wide."

My purpose in dwelling upon such familiar
examples is to establish the tradition and
the taste with which those whose minds
have been nourished on the best English
literature approach a writer on country life.
The first prose work exclusively devoted to
it that came into my hands was The Compleat
Angler, and it was accepted not as literature,
but as a guide to fishing. I instinctively
liked the book and with a boy's zeal carried
it to the waterside and straightway began
to put Piscator's instructions to a literal
and practical test. He was not a brilliant
success. An Irish vagabond named
Donagan, who haunted the same stream,
could give me much more useful advice than
he. I discovered that the pleasure to be
derived from Izaak Walton was exactly that
which made certain lines of poetry linger in
my ear and imprint themselves on my mind.

He lives not as natural history but as
literature; his place on the shelf is beside
' ' The Elegy " and " The Castle of Indolence, ' '
not along with Macg^illivray and Yarrell
and Seebohm and Newton.

A second book that came into my pos-
session was White's Natural Hietory of
Selborne ; was this for reading or for con-
sultation ? After a while it was silently
placed beside YarreU. Often, indeed, was
it taken down, for if one were in a difficulty
— if one had seen a bird or beast and wished
to know more about it — a more precise,
clear and satisfactory authority did not
exist. But for pleasurable continuous read-
ing Gilbert White was too "dry"; he
gave no picture, no atmosphere : he was
matter - of - fact of the matter - of - fact
eighteenth century. He does not belong at
all to the same class as Walton.

During the present century there have
been three writers whose treatment of
nature has had for me a peculiar interest.
The first and greatest of them was Lord
Tennyson ; the second, E. L. Stevenson ;
and file third, Richard JefEeries. Even yet
the pitiful circumstances under which the
last-mentioned died render it difficult to
judge his work coldly and soberly. Besides,
this is at least one case in which biography
is necessary to criticism. JefEeries left
behind him some eighteen volumes of prose,
not counting those " prelusory gymnastics,"
Jack Brass, The Scarlet Shawl, Restless
Human Hearts, and so forth, published
before he fell under Mr. Greenwood's in-
fluence. Eighteen volumes in ten years,
during several of which he was cramped by
illness, are far too many. But the facts of
his life more than excuse and explain this
too diligent printing. JefEeries from birth
was extremely poor, and with him poverty
was real and grim, not a mere genteel hard-
up-ness. Lord Tennyson at times felt the lack
of money, and Stevenson spoke ominously
of "Bylesthe Butcher"; neither of them,
however, had the slightest experience of
Want as it stared JefEeries in the face;
neither of them was ever in the position
where he must write or starve. Confronted
with this horrid alternative, JefEeries wrote
much that it is kindest to forget ; a man
working with a pistol at his head does not
compose masterpieces ; that he should be
able to compose at all is a kind of miracle.
The evils of poverty, again, were deepened
by illness. He was not strong even as a
child ; he became a thin, weak-chested lad,
and sufEered intense pain during the last
years of his life.

Want of money means a great deal more
than being forced to do hack-work. It
handicapped JefEeries from the start, as he
got a very imperfect schooling. To imder-
stand it you must compare Somersby and
Coate. Alfred Tennyson and Eichard
JefEeries drank in their impressions of
nature much in the same way. Both
were fond of rambling, and there was not
so very much difference between the Downs
of Lincolnshire and the Downs of Wilt-
shire. The rectory boy, however, had all the
gear and tackle of education at his disposal
the farm lad was left very much to his own
devices, and at an age at which the other
entered Cambridge he began to work as

THB AOADBMY.

[¥». 12, UM.

a reporter. Still more striking is the con-
trast later on. Tennyson, after his juvenile
failures, was welcomed by the critics and
neglected by the public ; but he had at
college formed a little band of friends and
admirers who gradually widened the circle.
JefEeries was friendless ; no literary acquaint-
ance was made at Coate Farm. He was
neglected till the very day of his death,
though critics (to their credit, be it said)
were not unjust or unkind, and he never
had any chance of forming such a band of
friends as had helped Lord Tennyson and
were even then helping E. L. Stevenson.
As to the general public itself, people some-
times talk as though it could not now be
capable of "stoning its prophets" as it did
in old time, but human nature is human
nature still. The public is, and always has
been, slow to recognise genuine literary
merit, and when it feels its sin, and is con-
trite, it blunders stUl worse and hugs some
Bottom the Weaver to its large bosom,
fondly imagining that thus is the wrong
of the centuries redressed.

The Story of My Heart is a pathetic
book, because in it the author unconsciously
reveals the train of evils which attend
poverty. It deals with many of the ques-
tions raised by In Momorium, that have
been in the air during the last fifty years
and more. But where Tennyson is a well-
equipped philosopher JefEeries is bvit a
splendid Pagan ; he has not followed the
progress of thought ; he only puts a series
of passionate questions to Nature such as
might be asked by an intellectual but ill-
equipped savage. Indeed, he might almost
be a savage in his worship of "the sun burn-
ing in heaven," his faith in physical perfec-
tion, his belief that there is something
greater even than God. His cri du cosier was
uttered also by Stevenson in a famous
essay, as it had been uttered in throes of
shaking faith by Euskin :

"There is nothing human," Jtfferies says,
" in the whole round of nature. All nature,
all the universe that we can see, is absolutely
indifferent to us, and except to us human life is
of no more value than grass. If the entire
human race perished at this hour what differ-
ence would it make to the earth ? "

If Jefferies had been able, like Tennyson
with his dirges, to carry this little book
about many years in his pocket, and think
and reconsider the poiuts, and discuss them
with the ablest men of his day, it might
have become a very remarkable contribu-
tion to literature. But when he wrote it
the shadow of death was approaching.
In those passages that are most steeped in
natural magic we feel the presence of
disease, even when it intensifies the sweet-
ness and the beauty, as, for instance, in the
following passage, somewhat damaged as it
is by the lavish use of /'s :

" Leaving the shore I walk among the trees ;
a cloud jjasses and the sweet short rain comes
mingled with simbeams and flower-scented air.
The finches sing among the fresh green leaves
of the beeches. Beautiful it is in summer days
to see the wheat wave, and the long grass, foam-
flecked of flower, yield and return to the wind.
My soul of itself always desires ; these are to
it as fresh food."

The Story of My Heart is a failure in one

way, but of the utmost value in another.
Of his best work we are compelled to ask,
Is it literature, or merely natural history?
Does it range with Walton and the poets,
or with Gilbert White and the zoologists ?
The first impression is that the Game-
keeper at Home, Wild Life, The Amateur
Poacher, and many of the smaller essays,
fall " betwixt and between " ; too rambling
and immethodical for science, too literal
and matter-of-fact for literature. Yet there
wiU be found in them a gTOwing wist-
fulness of wonder, a melancholy grace,
a deejier meaning, that invite the reader's
return. They are saved by their style, and
on the way to become classics. Those three,
at least, are literature.

But there is no author who stands more
in need of editing than Jefferies. He,
unfortunately, scattered his books up and
down among several j)ublishers. Otherwise
it would easily be possible to form out of
them a single volume that would stand
first of its kind, for in the essay, be it
remembered, his skiU touched its zenith.
In these busy days, however, it is too much
to expect that people will wade through a
great many volumes for one paper here and
another tliere.

I have not deemed it necessary to say
anything about his novels. In one of his
recently published letters Lord Tennyson
declared that he was no bibliophil ; he had
not even read all Spenser ; he contented
himself with the consummate flower of
an author's best work. With that most
agree. It is good to cull the best he
has to offer, but to go grubbing through
the failures and half-successes of a writer
is abhorrent. After making one de-
termined attempt to read the novels of
Eichard Jefferies I gave them up in despair.
An exception should be made, however, in
favour of his stories for children, Wood
Mayic and Bevis ; pleasanter and healthier
books for boys cannot be desired by those
who love to see children forming a sound
taste at the outset. P.

TOLSTOI AND MAUPASSANT.

It is easy to see that Tolstoi's remarkable
article on Guy de Maupassant, translated in
Chapman's Magazine, has little to do with
literary criticism. It is an exposition not
so much of Maupassant's qualities as of the
great Eussian's attitude towards life and
morals. Tolstoi's judgment on Maupassant
is that, with all his defects, he was a great
writer, that he had a piercing vision of the
contradictions and the tragedy of human
passions, that his talent was injured by the
low moral standards of his Parisian circle,
from which he was emancipating himself
when madness and death ended lus career.
Had the emancipation been achieved,
whither would Maupassant have been led ?
He was beginning to weary of those artistic
variations of debauchery to which, at the
bidding of Paris, he had dedicated many of
his stories. Swr L'JSait, which Tolstoi calls
the best of his books, breathes the passion
for solitude, a dangerous symptom, for
solitude, if it is to bring peace, must be

loved not with passion, but with serenity.
Maupassant was no contented chronicler of
lubricity like CatuUe Mendcs ; he had fitful
glimpses of an ideal humanity purged from
g^ossness, selfishness, and perfidy. Tolstoi
sees this in Ze Horla, that appalling fantasy
of an ulterior stage of our physical evolu-
tion. To most of us this story is interest-
ing simply as a delirium of imagination.
To Tolstoi, the idea of a being who is
an active intelligence without a carnal
envelope is a symbol of Christian perfection.
In the best of Maupassant's short stories he
sees nothing but this half-conscious revolt
against the carnal. They deal with

"all the phases of woman and of her love;
and there has hardly ever been a writer who
has shown with such clearness and precision
aU the awful aspects of that very thing which
seemed to him to afford the supreme welfare of
existence."

This is really what endears Maupassant
to Tolstoi, this presentment of the "awful
aspects" of woman. The early Fathers
regarded her as the chief instrument of
evil, and Tolstoi, who is the reincarnation
of a Christian Father, hails Maupassant as
a disciple struggling towards the light, and
savagely attacks Eenan for having darkened
the good counsel with the exasperating
urbanity of paganism. It is queer to find
the author of Bel Ami tenderly criticised as
a possible champion of Christian ethics,
while the author of Marcus Aurelius is held
up to scorn and loathing, as if his vindica-
tion of woman's beauty as " one aspect
of the divine plan " were an atrocity to be
expected from the man who wrote Z'Abieise
de Jouarre. For every writer there is, in
Tolstoi's mind, but one test : is he for or
against the ascetic ideal ? Eenan had left the
Church ; he was not indifferent to cookery ;
his lectures at the Sorbonne drew the
most ravishing toilettes in Paris, though,
as Mme. Darmesteter has told us, he put
them to flight on one occasion by pro-
posing that the audience should join him in
reading Hebrew in the original. It is
natural that Tolstoi should judge that
unlucky drama about the imprisoned abbess
and her lover as if it represented the whole
spirit of Eenan's teaching. It is equally
natural that he should argue as if long and
desperate contemplations of woman in her
"awful aspects" drove Maupassant to
suicide because he was not sufficiently
enlightened to seek refuge in Tolstoi's ideal
of ascetic Christianity. This is the bond
of sympathy between the author of the
Kreutzer Sonata and the greatest master of
the short story. I daresay Tolstoi has
sometimes reflected that if he had lived in
Paris, like Turgeneff, when Maupassant's
brief career was beginning, he would have
reclaimed this pupil of Flaubert, and made
him an apostle of those doctrines whicli,
were they capable of practical application,
would moralise the human race off the
face of the earth.

Thus it is that Tolstoi's judgment in this
article is somewhat too rarefied for pojr
average mortals. We cannot all behernuts,
who write down marriage, and mortify tne
affections (in old age) for the sake of some
amiable hypothesis that Nature, if we only
scold her enough, will turn ascetic too, ami

Feb. 12, 1808.]

THE ACADEMY.

181

grow babies on the gooseberry bush ! 11
Turgcneff, wlio foresaw, even in Anna
Karenina, the unfortunate twist in Tolstoi's
intellect, can read the article on Maupassant
in the shades, he must smile at some of the
illustrations of Tolstoi's point — that no
artist can divorce himself from the moral
relation of his work. A painter exhibited
a marvellous picture of a religious proces-
sion. Tolstoi was distressed because he
could not tell from the picture whether the
artist believed in religious processions or
not. He put the question, and was told,
probably with some irony, that the painter
had no views on the subject. So Tolstoi
describes him as one who " represented life
without understanding its meaning." It
wr)uld be as reasonable to say that an artist
who paints a portrait without believing in
the moral character of the sitter cannot
seize the significance of the human coun-
tenance. This is like Mr. Euskin's theory
\ that no agnostic can paint a landscape.
' Such confusion of thought generates an
I intolerance more irrational than that of any
: advocate of " art for art's sake." After all,
that formula answers itself, because it is
impossible for any truthful art in literature
' to be disengaged from a moral standpoint.
\ The unflinching blackguardism of Duroy in
, Bel Ami, as Tolstoi admits, is the most
\ convincing moral. But when your moralist
I insists that a religious procession shall be
\ painted only by a man who yearns to carry
a banner, and that a story of depravity is
best told by a novelist who perceives that
the " awful aspects " of woman demand the
crucifixion of our fundamental instincts, the
plea of art for morality's sake becomes an
excuse for eccentric fanaticism.

But no student of Maupassant's writings
can fail to see that, despite any excess of
moral prepossession, Tolstoi has the keenest
appreciation of the art of this great story-
teller, and of his insight into the depth
and variety of life. Such an apprecia-
tion ought to abash those critics who
have lightly dismissed him as a mere
raconteur, a contriver of droU anecdotes.
There are anecdotes, no doubt ; we can all
regale one another with "Le Signe" and
Les Epingles"; but readers who recall
only these things do not know their Mau-
passant. In his twenty volumes live such
stores of penetrating irony, pathos and
jtragedy, that for some years now I have
[rarely heard of a sombre truth rising
.abruptly from the deeps that has not re-
minded me of a story from the hand which
Isvrote Une Vie. And what a style! In Une Fie,
ways Tolstoi, it is "wrought to such perfection
hat it surpasses, in my opinion, the per-
jiormance of any French writer of prose."
'[ read every day grave discussions of that
linfemic product called the English short
itory, made without blood or bones, a pulpy
mass of commonplace streaked with humour
[save the mark !) or sickly sentiment. You
Ivould not expect a critic of European fame
p say of such fiction that it surjiassed the
performance of any writer of English prose.
Doubtless, in our tales, the public has the
tyle it deserves — the dear public, which, in
[xalted moments, may imagine that the prose
\i Mr. Kipling is an imperisliable tradition
|f literature ! L. F. Austin.

JOAQUIN MILLEE, BEOWNING, AND
THE PEINCE IMPEEIAL.

Nearly thirty years ago London literary
society was amused by the apparition of
Joaquin MiUer, the poet of the Sierras. In
sombrero and serape, with unshorn lc*ks,
and riding boots reaching to his waist,
this child of the West cut a sufficiently
picturesque figure among our own decorous
" biled shirt " bards. He came, he saw,
and in the main he conquered. He had
detractors, it is true, but the late Lord
Houghton stood his friend, and not a few
persons bought his poems, and many young
men quoted them and dreamed of emigration ;
and then the Buffalo Bill of poesy vanished
as suddenly as he had come, and until the
other day he was but a name. A few weeks
ago, however, the news reached this country
that Joaquin Miller, who has been describ-
ing the scenes at Klondyke for a New York
paper, was severely frostbitten, having been
caught in a blizzard, and is now cooped up
in the cabin of a little ice-bound steamer
on the Yukon river waiting for the libera-
tion which the warm weather will bring
somewhen about July. Almost simulta-
neously Messrs. Whitaker & Eay, of San
Francisco, have forwarded to us the complete
edition of his poems, which they have just
prepared —a considerable volume of upwards
of three hundred double-column pages.

In the notes to this book he partially
tells again the story of his English visit in
1870-71, much of which — his pilgrimage
to Newstead Abbey, his conversation with
Eossetti, and so on — has been already
related in his book Memorie and Rime. His
new reminiscences are well worth reading.
Thus:

' ' I had taken rooms at Museum-street, a few
doors from the greatest storehouse of art and
history on the globe, and I literally lived in the
British Museum every day. But I had already
overtaxed my strength, and my eyes were pain-
ing terribly. Never robust, I had always
abhorred meat; and milk, from a child, had
been my strongest drink. In the chill damp of
England you must eat and drink. I was, with-
out knowing it, starving and working myself to
death. Always and wherever you are, when a
bit of hard work is done, rest and refresh. Go
to the fields, woods, to God, and get strong.
This is your duty as well as your right.

Letters — sweet, brave, good letters from the
learned and great — were so many I could not
read them with my poor eyes and had to leave
them to friends. They found two from the
Archbishop of Dublin. I was to breakfast
with him to meet Browning, Dean Stanley,
Houghton, and so on. I went to an old Jew
close by to hire a dress suit, as Franklin had
done for the Court of St. James. AVhile fitting
on the clothes I told him I was in haste to go
to a great breakfast. He stopped, looked at
me, looked me all over, then told me I must
not wear that, but he would hire me a suit of
velvet. By degrees, as he fixed me up, he got
at, or guessed at, some facts, and when I asked
to pay him he shook his head. I put some
money down and he pushed it back. He said
he had a son, his only family now, at Oxford,
and he kept on fixing me up : cane, great taU
silk hat, gloves and aU. Who would have
guessed the heart to be foimd there ?

Browning was just back from Italy,
simbumt and ruddy. ' Robert,' you are
browning,' smiled Lady Augusta. ' And you

are August-a,' bowed the great poet grandly ;
and, by what coincidence — he, too, was in
brown velvet, and so like my own that I was a
bit uneasy.

Two of the Archbishop's beautiful daughters
had been xiding in the Park with the Earl of
Aberdeen. ' And did you gallop ? ' asked
Browning of the younger beauty. ' I galloped,
Joyce galloped, we galloped all three.' Then
we all laughed at the happy and hearty retort,
and Browning, beating the time and clang of
galloping horses' feet on the table with his
fingers, repeated the exact measure in Latin
from Virgil; and the Archbishop laughingly
took it up, in Latin, where he left off. I
then. told Browning I had an order — it was my
first — for a poem from the Oxford Magazine,,
and would like to borrow the measure and
spirit of his ' Good News,' for a prairie fire on
the plains, driving buffalo and all other life
before it into a river. ' Why not borow from
Virgil, as I did ? He is as rich as one of your
gold mines, while I am but a poor scribe.'
And this was my first of inner London.

Fast on top of this came breakfasts with Lord
Houghton, lunch with Browning, a dinner with
Eossetti to meet the great painters ; the good
old Jew garmenting me always, and always
pushing back the pay."

Joaquin Miller's English book, Songs
of the Sierras, was only moderately popular.
Its "literary" quality was disappointing:
readers wanted an entirely new note, whereas
instead the child of the untrammelled West
was found to have read his Byron to some
purpose. He did not utter the spontaneous
and barbaric yawp that was wished. He was
also too fluent, too careless of form. His
lines tumbled out, as a waterfall tumbles
over a rock. The rush was fine, but indi-
vidual beauties were lacking. There was
no nicety of epithet. People prized the
poet for his glow, his generous creed, his
simplicity ; but few readers turned to the
book again, and that is, perhaps, the best
proof of a poet's failure. Yet there are
haunting passages even in these loose Songs,
which are not songs at all. Thus, in
" Arizonian ":

" So I have said, and I say it over,
And can prove it over and over again,
That the four-footed beasts in the red-

crown'd clover.
The pied and homed beasts on the plain
That he down, rise up, and repose again.
And do never take care or toil or spin.
Nor buy, nor build, nor gather in gold,
As the days go out and the tides come in,
Are better than we by a thousand- fold ;
For what is it all, in the words of fire,
But a vexing of soul and a vain desire ? "

And the beginning of the lawless ballad,
"With Walker in Nicaragua," is memor-
able :

" He was a brick : let this be said
Above my brave dishonour'd dead.
I ask no more, this is not much,
Yet I disdain a colder touch
To memory as dear as his ;
For he was true as God's north star,
And brave as Tuba's grizzUes are,
Yet gentle as a panther is,
Mouthing her young in her first fierce kiss.

But Oiiida-esque enthusiasm is not poetry ,
nor is poetry, as Joaquin Miller affirms in
his new volume, adequately described by
the one word, " heart."

182

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

Here is another extract from the new
reminiscences :

" Born to the saddle, and bred by a chain of
events to ride with the wind until I met the
stohd riders of England, I can now see how it
was that Anthony Trollope, Lord Houghton,
and others of the saddle and ' meet ' gave me
ready place in their midst. Not that the
English were less daring ; but they were less
fortunate — may I say less experienced ? I
recall the fact that I once foimd Lord
Houghton's brother. Lord Crewe, and his son
also, under the hands of the surgeon in New
York — one with a broken thigh, and the other
with a few broken ribs. But in all our hard
riding I never had a scratch.

One morning Trollope hinted that my im-
munity was due to my big Spanish saddle,
which I had brought from Mexico City. I
threw my saddle on the grass and rode without
so much as a blanket. And I rode neck to
neck ; and then left them all behind and nearly
everyone unhorsed.

Prince Napoleon was of the party that morn-
ing ; and as the gentlemen pulled themselves
together on the return he kept by my side, and
finally proposed a tour through Notts and
Sherwood Forest on horseback. And so it fell
out that we rode together much.

But he had already been persistently trained
in the slow mUitaxy methods, and it was in
vain that I tried to teach him to cling to his
horse and climb into the saddle as he ran, after
the fashion of Indians and vaqueros. He ad-
mired it greatly, but seemed to think it unbe-
coming a soldier.

It was at the Literary Fund dinner, where
Stanley and Prince Napoleon stood together
when they made their speeches, that I saw this
brave and brilliant young man for the last
time. He was about to set out for Africa with
the English troops to take part in the Zulu
war.

He seemed very serious. When about to
separate he took my hand, and, looking me all
the time in the face, placed a large diamond on
my finger, saying something about its being
from the land to which he was going. I refused
to take it, for I had heard that the Emperor
died poor. But as he begged me to keep it, at
least tai he should come back, it has hardly
left my hand since he placed it there.

Piteous that this heir to the throne of Prance
should die alone in the yellow grass at the
hand of savages in that same land where the
great Emperor had said : ' Soldiers, from
yonder pyramids twenty centuries behold your
deeds.' "

Joaquin Miller's visit ended suddenly.
A return of blindness and general sickness
disabled him ; and the news of the illness
of his sister recalled the wanderer home.
Since then he has played many parts and
pubhshed several books.

THE BOOK MARKET.

A TAX ON PUBLISHEES.

A Talk with Mk. T. Fishee Unwin.
Mk. Edward Marston's letter in Tuesday's
Txmeii on the tax imposed on publishers by
the copyright regulation, which compels
them to supply five copies of every book
to the national libraries, was a clear state-
ment of an undoubted grievance.

Mr. Marston began by presenting a few

figures without, at first, disclosing his
object. He wrote :

" I have made a few rough calculations which
may not be uninteresting to many of your
readers. From these calculations I think I shall
not be very far out in assuming that the number
of titles of new books recorded in these eight
years will not be less than 50,000, exclusive of
American books. By counting the titles re-
corded on several pages and adding up the
prices of the books so counted I am brought to
the conclusion that the average published price
of these 50,000 books is at least 5s. a copy.
By multiplying these 50,000 books by five I
arrive at the number of volumes which British
pubUshers have presented to the British
Museum and the four other public libraries of
Oxford, Cambridge, Edinburgh, and DubUn
during the eight years referred to — viz.,
250,000 volumes, which, if taken at the average
of 5s. per volume, amounts to the prodigious
sum of £62,500. If I go back, as the previous
volumes of Thb Bngliah Catalogue enable me
to do, I estimate — roughly, of course — that,
taking the whole period of Her Majesty's reign,
say sixty years, the number of books (including
the above estimate for Volume V.) may be
taken as 300,000, five copies of each of which
have been presented by British pubhshers to
the British nation — say, 1,500,000 works, which,
taken at 5s. a volume, amount to £375,000.
Three hundred thousand volumes to each
hbrary ! "

"Now" — says Mr. Marston, whose whole
letter is an interesting contribution to the
discussion of the rumoured new Copyright

Act—

" how is it and why is it that publishers
alone should be subjected to such an enormous
tax as this ? What do they get in exchange
for it ? No other profession or trade, so far as
I know, is so taxed, and publishers are not, by
reason of it, reheved from any other tax which
the ' body pohtic ' has to pay. It may be said
that it is a tax of venerable antiquity and that
pubUshers go into business knowing that this
liability hangs over them ; it is the law, and
they submit."

Unable to solve Mr. Marston's questions,
an Academy representative went to seek
further information where it was likely to
be forthcoming. Mr. T. Fisher Unwin has
before now expressed his views strongly on
the same question, and to him the repre-
sentative appealed.

'' I have been out of town and there-
fore have not seen Mr. Marston's letter,"
said Mr. Unwin, " but I'll send for it now.
My own view is a very simple one. Why
should publishers be taxed more than other
classes? They contribute by their calling
to the enlightenment of the country, so that
if their case is to be exceptional I think it
would be more reasonable to subsidise than
to tax them."

" Do you look upon the five-copies
clause in the Copyright Act as involving a
serious strain on a publisher's treasury ? "

"Certainly, and especially in the case of
expensive illustrated books. I recently
published a costly volume of drawings
by Charles Keene. Well, five copies
of such a volume — the whole edition
being a matter only of a few hundreds-
are a serious drain. Then, again, the
British Museum demands a copy of every
new edition of a book which has already
been sent to it— however trivial the altera-

tion in the text may be. Even books
imported from America — if they are issued
with an English publisher's imprint — must
be sent to the Museum. Reprints of non-
copyright works must also be sent; every
new edition of Ptlffrim's Progress, for
instance. I suppose I send five hundred
books a year myself to the five libraries
which benefit under the Act. So you see the
Act is fuUy enforced. What I complain of
is, that we get no return for our books."

"What return would you suggest?"

" Well ; I think the act of delivering five
free copies of a book to the State should
of itself give us copyright. The receipt for
the book should be a certificate of cop3Tight."

"In lieu of the fee and formalities at
Stationers' Hall."

"Yes. And, another thing: the State
might do what Stationers' Hall fails to do-
it might register titles for us, and so save
us the continual inconvenience of duplicating
each other's titles through ignorance.
Surely this would be little enough to ask in
return for many tons of books per annum.
Understand me, I don't object to give
one copy of a book to the State; but five
copies are too many. In America two
copies only are required. But at this
moment a number of the separate States
are applying to have compulsory copies
of books supplied to their libraries. 8o
that American publishers may be in evil
case soon. And, after all, if five copies,
why not fifty ? That would be only logical.
The illogical thing now is, that we give
something — in fact, a great deal — for
nothing."

COLUMBUS SIENKIEWICZ.

We showed last week that the Polish
novel. Quo Vadis, translated by Jeremiah
Curtin, is still the favourite work of fiction
all over America.

" Let Peary seek his Arctic goal ;
His countrymen prefer a Pole

Less brumal and uncertain ;
And Eoe and Howells the prolix
Must bow to Henry Sienkiewicz,

Democratised by Curtin.

Of all that Sienkiewicz has writ
Quo Vadis is the favourite

From ocean unto ocean ;
And Trilby's antics, once the rage.
Are tame beside this crowded page

Of Christian emotion.

In Michigan they will not look
At aught but Sienkievricz's book,

Nor gentlemen, nor ladies.
In Illinois and Maryland
No reader will extend a hand

Except to reach Quo Vadis.

Ohio, Massachusetts, Penn-
sylvania. Mississippi, Tenn-
essee, Louisiana,
Wisconsin, Texas, Washington,
North Carolina, Oregon,
Virginia, Montana,

And Delaware and Idaho,
Columbia, New Mexico,

Nebraska, Maine, Missouri,
Rhode Island, California,
Connecticut and Florida

All ihare the Polish fury."

Feb. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

183

THE WEEK.

THE week's output of books presents few
marked characteristics. History and
travel rather predominate in a short list. A
military text-book, a book on the Eound
Towers of Ireland, a book on Women's
Education, and a railway history ; these
make somewhat cold fare. A new edition of
Chaucer and a new translation of Dante
give hterary relief, and a book of adven-
turous travel brightens all.

Mr. Gkant Richards has just issued a
new rendering of the Inferno of Dante, by Mr.
Eugene Lee-Hamilton. The novel feature
of Mr. Lee-Hamilton's rendering is his
retention of the feminine syllable at the end
of each line. " The rhyme," says the
translator,

" is comparatively unimportant. Its main-
tenance precludes the English translation from
keeping the feminine syllable, and forces him
to depart from closeness of meaning and literal
expression."

Abandoning the rhyme, and employing
the feminine ending, Mr. Lee-Hamilton
begins thus (we quote his lines here purely
to show their form) :

"Midway upon the footpath of our lifetime
I found myself within a dusky forest,
For the straightforward way had been lost
sight of.
Ah me, how hard the task is to describe it,
That forest, wild and briary and mighty,
Which in mere thought, reneweth all the
terror I "

men, but now a byword throughout the
civilised world : Klondike. I may add that
Harding and I were the first Europeans to
reside for any length of time alone and un-
protected among the Tchuktchis of Siberia.
But for these facts this book might well have
been entitled, ' The Record of a Failure ! ' "

A oooD many recent books have been in-
spired, more or less directly, by the Victorian
Era Exhibition held at Earl's Court last year.
Such a book is Progress in JFbmen's Education,
a volume composed of papers read at the
Saturday Conferences of the " Women's
Work Section." The Countess of Warwick
edits the volume, and in her preface writes
as follows :

" Victor Hugo was right when he described
the nineteenth century as the ' woman's century.'
The advance has been so marked that it has
been felt in every department of human effort,
but more especially in the realm of Education.

John Knox taught the Scotch people, three
hundred years ago, that every scholar made is
an addition to the wealth of the community —
doubtless he meant ' wealth ' in its wider and
nobler sense — but it has been reserved for the
present age to interpret this truth in its relation
to women as well as to men.

We have only now ' to take occasion by the
hand, and make the bounds of freedom wider
yet.' "

All students of Chaucer will be glad
that the Glole edition of his works is at last
published. Mr. Alfred W. Pollard, who
has edited the text with the assistance of
several scholars with whom he shares the
title-page, relates the somewhat chequered
career of the undertaking. Messrs. Mac-
millan, it seems, have contemplated this
edition since 1864, and Mr. Pollard's own
labours began ten years ago. Probably
unly the most enthusiastic Chaucerians will
echo Mr. Pollard's wish that in "the near
future the student may have not merely two
texts from which to choose, but half a
dozen."

PiiiNCE Kkaft xu Hoiiexlohe - Ingel-
I fingen's Letters on Strategy is, we think, the
third volume that has been issued in the
" Wolseley Series," though it is numbered
as the second. The Letters form two bulky
volumes, and a brief Introduction by the
editor, Capt. Walter H. James, introduces
us to the author, who is now deceased.
Prince Kraft zu Hohenlohe - Ingelfingen
was an able soldier, and in the wars of
1866 and 1870 commanded the German
ArtUlery of the Guard. He also directed
the artillery operations against Paris.
Captain James says that these letters

" are not to be taken up hghtly, or to be
dipped in here and there, but conscientiously
studied they form a valuable means of instruc-
tion in strategetical matters, and for this reason
they are placed before the British mihtary
reader."

Mr. Harry De Windt's new book of
travel. Through the Gold-fields of Alaska to
Bering Straits, has only to be opened to
[excite interest and curiosity ; the photo-
jgraphic illustrations being numerous and
[Striking. Mr. De Windt made his Alaskan
•journey in company with his servant,
|George Harding, and they were piloted
over the Chilkoot Pass by one Joe Cooper,
an old-timer, who was returning to the
Yukon gold-fields. Mr. De Windt says :

"Had my original scheme succeeded, this
work would have borne the alluring title of

' New York to Paris by Land " : a journey
svhich, so far as I know, has never yet been
|iccompli»hed, though I do not, for one moment,
liuggest that it never will be. My cloud, how-
jjver, has its silver lining, seeing that the first
iiart of our voyage lay through a region then

cnown by name to perhaps a dozen white

Military, also, is Mr. T. Rice Holmes's
History of the Indian Mutiny, of which a fifth
and carefully revised edition is issued by
Messrs. Macmillan. The author says :

" Among the more important alterations and
additions are those which relate to the Afghan
War, the battle of Sacheta and the events
which led up to it, the battle of Chinhat, the
defence of the Lucknow Residency, Havelock's
campaign. Lord Canning's Oudh proclamation,
and the vexed question of Sir Colin Campbell's
responsibility for the protraction of the war."

Henry O'Brien's standard work on the
Round Towers of Ireland is revived in a new
edition, of only 750 copies, which Messrs. W.
Thacker & Co. liave issued. O'Brien's
career (he was bom 1808) and the merits of
his theory that the round towers of Ireland
have a Persian origin, are examined in a
lengthy introduction signed " W. H. C."
The work itself begins on the ninety-
seventh page.

Mb. Charles H. GEnrLiNa has written a
History of the Great Northern Railway in a
large octavo volume of over 400 pages. In
his preface Mr. Grinling says :

"I am not afraid to claim that the book
forms a fifty years' record of the fortunes of all
the great trunk systems connecting London and
the North."

Concerning his authorities Mr. Grinling
says :

" Without seeking access to the private
archives of the Great Northern Company, and
s ) placing myself under obligations which
could have been met only by a sacrifice of
partiaUty, I have, nevertheless, been able to
obtain information of the most intimate and
authentic character with respect to all the chief
events with which my History deals."

The purpose of Mr. John Earle's Simple
Grammar of English Now in Use, a work
which is likely to be serviceable to young,
and, for that matter, seasoned writers, is
thus explained by the author :

"This is a book not of Philology, but of
Grrammar. In other words, it treats language
not in its physical aspect, as sound or syllable,
but in its mental aspect, as discourse of thought.
The aim is not scientific, but educational;
not the mechanism of the mother tongue, but
its mental action in practical use. The leading
of Nature teaches us that grammatical study
should begin at the point where the use of
speech is consciously apprehended by the young.
That is to say, it should begin with language
not as a fabric, but as the representation of
thought."

A feature of this grammar is its numerous
illustrative quotations from modem authors.

CORRESPONDENCE.

SIR WALTER SCOTT ON JANE

AUSTEN.

Sm, — Would you allow me to point out
that Mr. Austin Dobson, in the note on
Scott's review of Miss Austen's j&wwa which
you quoted (Academy, Feb. 5, 1898) from
his introduction to Northanger Abbey and
Persuasion, has not yet explained the matter
quite completely. He writes that the fact
of Scott's authorship, announced by him-
self on the authority of Mr. Murray in the
introduction to Mansfield Park, " was all the
while Ijring perdu in a note to chap. Iv. of
Lockharfs Life of Scott." But the fact has
twice appeared in print during the last ten
years.

(1) Though Prof. Goldwin Smith (" Great
Writers "), as Mr. Dobson shows by his
quotation from p. 35, did not know it, the
information is given in his own volume,
published in 1890— see Mr. John P. Ander-
son's " Bibliography," p. iv. — an incon-
sistency I find noted by a pencil reference
in my copy.

(2) The article is described, at some
length, as Scott's, and quoted (though by a
printer's error dated 1818) in the preface to
my edition of Setise and Sensibility (J. M.
Dent & Co., 1892), where it is compared
with the familiar entries in Scott's Journal. —
I am, sir, &c., R. Brimley Jounson.

184

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

" FOUNDEE."

Sir, — As you have "crowned" Mr.
Henley's essay on Bums, I suppose it is
fair to conclude that you consider it good
English. May I ask, then, for information
ahout the word italicised in this sentence :
" The -poet who foundered two pocket-copies
of that very silly and disgusting book, Th
Man of Feeling " ? (p. 275). I may add that
I have looked in Skeat's big Dictionary
and the new revised largest Webster
without finding any meaning which does
at all.

In Stevenson (" Men and Books "), Some
Aspects of Robert Burns, p. 52, I find: "He
carried a book in his pocket . . . and ivore
out in this service two copies of The Man of
Feeling"; so that I conclude "wore out"
to be the general sense. As a student of
English I am much interested in new and
old usages of words ; and so hope that you
may be able to satisfy me as to " founder."

I may add that the correspondencies
between Mr. Henley and his predecessor in
their essays on Burns are such as to de-
mand, perhaps, a larger acknowledgment of
the work of Stevenson than the "crowned "
essay contains. — Yours, &c.,

Veenon Eendall.

Norwood: Feb. 10.

D'ANNUNZIO IN ENGLISH.

Sir, — As a reader of Gabriele D'Annunzio
before his name was known on this side the
Channel, I would fain point out that, ex-
cellent as is Ouida's version of the passage
quoted by your reviewer in his criticism of
the English translation of II Trionfo della
Mbrte, she omits one or two little touches
that seem to me important. I submit the
following rendering :

"Orvieto! Have you never been there!
Imagine a melancholy valley. In its midst
rises a volcanic rock, crowned by a city silent
as death, with closed windows and narrow,
dusky streets where the grass flourishes. A
mouk crosses the square. Before the hospital
is drawn up a funeral-looking carriage, from
which a decrepid servant assists a bishop to
alight. A tower soars into the wet, cloudy
sky ; a clock slowly strikes the hour, when
suddenly at the bottom of a street behold a
marvel — the Duomo ! "

But D'Annunzio is quite untranslatable.
Those who have only read him in French
cannot form an adequate idea of his subtle
charm, while his genius is so utterly opposed
to our habits of thought as to make him
appear i-epulsive even in a Bowdlerised
English eiition. To thoroughly enjoy
D'Annunzio you must not only read him
in Italian, but you must think in Italian,
and, for the time, try to forget you are the
native of a foggy island. Those who can
thus assimilate a little of the Latin spirit
are the only Englishmen who can properly
appreciate such works as II Trionfo della
Morte. — I am, Sir, yours obediently,

F. H. PiCTON.

Exmouth : Feb. 4.

event which future generations wUl have to
consider seriously, I am reminded that the
history of Mars can furnish a striking
instance of the fulfilment of fiction. When
describing the works of the astronomers on
the island of Laputa, in Gulliverh Travels,
Swift makes Gulliver say :

" They have likewise discovered two lesser
stars or satellites, which revolve round Mars,
whereof the innermost is distant from the
centre of the primary planet exactly three of
its diameters, and the outermost five ; the
former revolves in the space of ten hours, and
the later in twenty- one and a half."

The satellites are two of the minutest
objects in the solar system and were only
discovered in 1877 — that is, a century and a
half after they were described by Gulliver.
And not only was Mars given the number
of satellites it is now known to possess, but
by making one of them revolve round the
planet in less time than the planet takes to
rotate on its axis. Swift imagined a condition
of things which woidd even now be con-
sidered impossible if it were not established
by the evidence of our eyes. Observations
show that the innermost moon of Mars
actually does revolve round the planet three
times in the course of a Martian day, its
period of revolution being only 7 hours
39 minutes, whereas the planet rotates in
24 hours 37 minutes.

With this remarkable coincidence in mind,
one hesitates to say that Mr. Wells's
romance is beyond the limits of possibility.
— I am, yours, &c.,

E. A. Gregory.

MAES IN FICTION.

Sib, — ^After reading Mr. Wells's War of
the Worlds, and being almost persuaded that
the invasion of the earth by Martians is an

EOBEET FEEGU880N.

Sir, — It is no pleasure to me to dwell
on the more painful aspects of Fergusson's
career ; and if Dr. Grosart will look over
the review of his book again he will find
that it conveys no moral censure what-
soever. My point of view is simply that
the admiration which depends on swathing
a figure in moral linen is no compliment to
its object.

With your permission I will cite the
passage which seems to have excited Dr.
Grosart's indignation :

" Stevenson in his Edinburgh has frankly
stated the truth : ' Love was absent from his
life, or only present, if you prefer, in such a
form that even the least serious of Burns'
amourettes was ennobling by comparison.' We
have no desire to enlarge upon the point. It
was a cold caught while (after he had dost d
himself with ' a searching medicine ') he was
electioneering that brought on Fergusson's
madness and death — a death not altogether
unlike that of Burns himself."

Now first take his comment on the quo-
tation from Stevenson :

"To allege that ' love' was absent from the
hfe of one who was so lovable and full of love,
teudemess, and sweetness by universal testi-
mony is no less stupid than false."

Without such plain proof it woidd be im-
possible to believe that Stevenson's words
coidd be so violently wrested from their
meaning. What can one do but ask Dr.
Grosart to read the passage again ?

Next, he entirely omits to mention " the
searching medicine " either in his letter or

his book; yet he cannot help knowing
exactly what it refers to. "A medicine
remarkable for its searching effects upon
the system," are the words of Chambers.
Others say quicksilver right out, and make
no secret of the object for which it was taken.
Why, after replying to a dozen trivial
slanders, does he slur over the accusation
implied here ?

What Stevenson meant by " vicious " is,
plainly enough, illicit sexual intercourse.
In dealing with this in the book Dr. Grosart
quotes Sommers, a friend of the poet's, who
naturally made out the best possible case
for him. Yet the sum and substance of
what Dr. Grosart quotes from Sommers is
that the latter spent many innocent hours
with the poet, and that his companions
" were, indeed, of a social cast, but not of
that debauched turn which the word dis-
solute bears." AU this might be true
without falsifying the adjective used by
Stevenson, who had every opportunity of
learning, not the stories of early biographers
only, but the traditions stiU, during his
youth, current in Edinburgh. In the early
eighties I had myself frequent opportunities
of learning what these were; and till Dr.
Grosart discovered a lily-like purity in
Fergusson I never heard the assertion
disputed.

At the same time, no one greatly blamed
the poet either. He was gifted with a
lively spirit, and he lived in a time when
people were not so strict about morals. It
would have been a miracle had he been a
Galahad.

As to Stevenson applying the term
"vicious" to himself, I honour him for it,
just as I honour St. Paul for calling himself
" the chief of sinners " ; but it would be an
ill-return of his noble and humble candour
to accept the statement in the spirit of a
grubbing literalist, and proceed to ask when
and how he fell : whether in the mind only,
and as a consequence of original sin, or in
act. No ; let us be content to honoui- him
for being so frankly unpharisaical, and
let the rest be. If Fergusson had only left
behind a similar declaration '

TlIE Ee VIE WEE.

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.

.. o,v ,n ■ u The critics have expended all

" The Tnamph ^, . j; • • t_i if

of Death." their powers oi msight and oi
By D'Annunzio. judgment on this remarkable
novel. Three points (for con-
venience we condense four into three) have
engaged their attention. These are :

The Translation.

The Story.

D'Annunzio's Art and Morality.

The translation has been taken on trust by
a good many critics. The Daily Chronicle
writes of "the apparently quite competent
version before us." The Daily Neics says
the translation has been done with "skill
and fluency," but " it fails, as all transla-
tions must faU, to give the matchless charm
of D'Annunzio's style." Literature points
out the inevitable loss to the book by
translation, but says, " with the exception
of the use on two occasions of the objection-

Feb. 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

185

able phrase 'egged on,' the translator's
English is excellent." The Outlook accepts
Miss Harding's translation as "an excellent
piece of work." From these generalities one
passes to Mr. Arthur Symons's admirable
review of the book in the Saturday Review.
Mr. Symons allows that Miss Harding has a
good knowledge of Italian, and that her
version reaches " a general level of readable,
not ungraceful, English." But he picks
;many faidts in detail, faults of omission and
commission, concluding this part of his
;review as foUows :

I " It was with an actual shock that I read
Ithis sentence, which might be taken from a
• penny dreadfid ': ' Anything more lugubrious
than those peals of demented laughter ringing
out into the solemn silence of the night would
be impossible to imagine.' One does not even
Qsed to know Italian to recognise the differ-
?nce between such a sentence as that and such
i sentence as this : ' E nulla era piu lugubre di
quelle risa foUi in quel silenzio deUa notte alta.'
As I have said, Miss Harding is not an artist
;u translation."

Apart from the verbal accuracy of the
l.ranslation there is the question of omissions.
The critics agree that D'Annunzio's story
iontains passages which could not have
jeen rendered in English. But they differ
n their estimates of Miss Harding's dis-
cretion. The Daily News says : " We note
Ivith approbation that some of the most
jmpleasantly erotic passages have been
iimitted." Literature makes light of the
ileletions : " The expurgation of certain
leniences does not detract from the abound-
ing interest and vitality of the book." The
^Outlook says : " Certain passages have been
loned down, but the naked analysis is
■carcely disturbed." The Ac.vdemy, on the
'ther hand, reviewing the book last week,
rrote : " D'Annunzio

Baches the eager public's timorous hands sans
,tyle, sans naughtiness, sans poetry. It is all
bere— the rest— all, except the essence, the
pint. M. Herelle, in his graceful French trans-
lition, faUed often at D'Annunzio's poetry of
ature, but he always kept a breath of poetry in
ae voluptuous passages he essayed. Miss Hard-
ig has sacrificed both poetry and voluptuous-
less. It is a safe translation : D'Annunzio is
jioroughly Britannicised, and the EngUsh Mr.
romstocks and the English poets will alike be
lisappointed. And the result is most intensely
literesting to the critic."

; Mr. Symons formulates the same charge
lefinitely, thus :

I "Now, what I have to complain of in the
luglish translation is that by its suppression
I:' passages on the ground of morality it has
[)ae its utmost to make an immoral book of a
'3ok which is not immoral. Let me give an
stance. On p. 361 of the original there is a
ug paragraph, taking up almost the whole of
lie page, in which the philosophic condemna-
|on of lust, that, being essentially sterile, it
I against the whole intention of nature, is
,^flned with a seriousness which is almost
iilemnity. This passage comes in the midst of
I scene of admirable, but certainly hazardous,
vention ; it supplies the moral of that scene,
gives it its significance in the story, it shows
le profound meaning of what might other-
lise be a mere anecdote. This passage is
juitted in the translation ; the scene remains,
(it the moral has gone."

I Coming now to the story, we find con-

siderable divergence. Here are a few
salient opinions. The Baili/ News says :

' ' A sickly pessimism breathes through this
story. The hero is a brooding, morbid
creature, making insatiable claims upon life and
love. From first to last the book is a study of
moral disease. Every grace of style, all that
the perfection of presentation can achieve, all
the resources of art are used to deck the theme,
but they cannot disguise its unwholesomeness."

The Daily Chronicle may be said to agree :

"In the last analysis, whatever disguises
they may assume, his [the hero's] soul-states
are only two — desire tind satiety — and his
history consists in the steady encroachment of
satiety upon desire, until the suicidal mania
which has haunted him from the outset becomes
homicidal to boot. He presents an appalling
and highly moral example of the havoc
wrought by idleness and sensuality upon an
initially morbid nature. Appalling and (in its
way) edifying the spectacle certainly is ; but it
falls short of tragic impressiveness because we
do not feel it to be inevitable."

The Outlook denies originality to the
story, which, it says, is " compact of the
stalest, the most outworn, elements."

The Westminster Gatette is less severe :

" There is, at least, a sense that the story is a
narrative, and not an analysis of small, corrupt,
and decadent emotions. M. D'Annunzio has,
at least, this in common with Tolstoi, that he
seems to be telling you things because they
happened so, and not because, for some morbid
purpose of his own, he wished them to happen
so. Moreover, there are in his work remark-
able gifts of style and imagination to which no
reader of literary gifts can be indifferjnt."

The Saturday Review awards only praise
to the story :

" Here is a man and a woman — I can scarcely
remember their Christian names ; I am not
even sure whether we are ever told their
surnames — and in this man and woman I see
myself, you, everyone who has ever desired
the infinity of emotion, the infinity of surrender,
the infinity of possession. Just because they
are so shadowy, because they may seem to be
so unreal, they have another, nearer, more
insidious kind of reality than that reality by
which Tristan is so absolutely Tristan, Antony
so absolutely Antony. . . . Here, then, is a
book which, though it deals with matters of
the senses, deals with them philosophically, not
as the mere stuif for a story."

The Academy reviewer asked last week :
" What is D'Annunzio's world?"

"What is his world I'' It is the word-
tapestry of a poet's weaving— a poet whose
musical cadences and delicate analysis of subtle
emotions seem to float over and around a world
of nature's beauty, a world brutal with appe-
tite, with ugly fact, and morbid impulse.
D'Annunzio's world is a bizarre fueing of many
conflicting influences — Pagan, Christian, scien-
tific— interacting on his dehcate temperament,
weary of so much richness. And thus the
critical question to ask is, Has not he assimilated
too much ? It is his quality to assimilate every-
thing, and thus in a single novel, side by side
with a Pagan joy in voluptuousness, comes a
scientific analysis of the melancholy strife
between flesh and spirit ; and the triumph of
the animal in man over his higher nature is
mourned by the Christian in him, studied
a la Basse, and conveyed in musical prose of
poetic beauty ! "

Lastly, what have the critics to say on
the art and moral effect of this astonishing
story ? The Daily News says : " The book
is a masterly rendering of an ignoble
theme." Literature says :

" To D'Annunzio alone among many is given
the power of expression which dignifies and
magnifies, and in all things he is an artist. To
him, on his own confession, as to Flaubert, has
been given the desire of style, the right word
and the right expression ; but the conciseness
and compression of Flaubert has changed in
him to the volubility of passion. . . . Without
in any way wishing to encourage exi':sses
possible in other tongues, it may be hoped that
the publication of such a volmne as thia will
open the way to a broader and freer view
of the world than is generally permitted in
novel form here."

The Outlook sums up thus :

"We do not believe that D'Annunzio will
commend himself to English taste, nor do we
think it well that he should do so. That his
book is immoral we should be disposed to deny ;
for in his picture of the utter annihilation in-
evitable to unregulated passion he is at least
as stern a moralist as M. Zola. But that it is
bad art badly applied we confidently afiirm."

PORTRAIT SUPPLEMENTS

"THE ACADEMY.

The following have appeared, and the numbers
contttining them can stilt be obtained : —

1896.

BEN JONSON November U

JOHN KEATS ... „ 21

SIR JOHN SUCKLING „ 28

TOM HOOD December 6

THOMAS GRAY „ 12

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ... „ 19

SIR WALTER SCOTT .„ ... „ 26

1897.

SAMUEL RICHARDSON January 2

THOMAS DE QUINCEY ... ..•. „ 9

LEIGH HUNT „ 16

LORD MACAULAY 23

ROBERT SOUTHEY 30

S. T. COLERIDGE February 6

CHARLES LAMB , 13

MICHAEL DRAYTON 20

WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR... „ 27

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EDMUND WALLER 18

WILKIE COLLINS 20

JOHN MILTON „ 27

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CHARLES DARWIN , 10

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON 17

HENRY WADSWORTH LONG- \

FELLOW /

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THOMAS CARLYLE 15

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY ... „ 22

CHARLES DICKENS ,. 29

JONATHAN SWIFT June 5

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE! jg

THACKERAY /

WILLIAM BLAKE 19

SIR RICHARD STEELE , 26

ALEXANDER POPE July 3

DOUGLAS JERROLD • 10

FRANCIS BACON .. 17

186

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

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THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

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Atjtobiogeaphy. Collected and arranged by Alexander Whyte, D.D.

Olipbant, Anderson & Farrier. 28.
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D.D. Hodder & Stoughton.

HISTOEY AND BIOGEAPHY.
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Kraft zu Hohenlohe-Ingelfingen. Edited by Capt. Walter H.

James. In 2 vols. Vols. I. and II. Kegan Paul.
Many Memories of Many People. By M. C. M. Simpson. Edward

Arnold. 168.
A POPULAE HiSTOEY OF THE iNsrEREOTiON OF 1798. By the Rev.

Patrick F. Kavanagh. Centenary edition. 28. 6d.
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Illuminated Manuscripts. David Douglas.
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The New Quest. By Angus Eotherham. David Nutt. 68.

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THE ACADEMY.

187

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Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, Wellington Street

Bailvray Station
„ ,, „ Central do.

Messrs. GOODALL 4 SUDDICK, New Station
Mr. JOHNSON, 1, Call Street

Mr. BURNISTON, 48, Briggate, and Covered Market
Mr. CORNWALL, Upper Mill Hill
Mr. N. G. MORRISON, Bishopsgate
Mr. E. JOWETT, 61, North Street
Mr. RICHARD JACKSON, 16, Commercial Street
Mr. JAMBS MILLS, 39, Bond Street

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book StaU, Mid. B.

Manchester.

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S Dep6t (Wholesale)

„ Book Stall, Exchange Ry.Station

„ „ „ London Rd., L. 4 N.

W. R. Station
„ „ „ ditto, M.S. 4 L. R.

Station
„ „ „ Central Ry. Station

„ „ „ Victoria Rly. Station

Mr. JOHN HEYWOOD (Wholesale Newsagent)
Mr. ABEL HEYWOOD, Oldham Street
Messrs. MORRIS & CO., 42, Deansgate
Mr. WHBBLBR, Pall Mall
Mr. POWBLL, Corporation Street

Malvern (Great).

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book StaUs

Newcastle-on-Tyne.

Mr. C. 0. ROSS, 35, Side, Dean Street
Mr. WATMOUGH, 40, Newgate Street
Mr. J. COCHRANE, 291, Wsstgate Hill
Mr. J. A. DK LACY, 218i. Westgate Road
Mr. RENDER, Newgate Street
Mr. MACEY, New Bridge Street

Nottingham.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, Mid. E.

„ „ » Northwich

Norwich.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall. Thorpe Station
Oxford,

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Messrs. WILLIAMS 4 NORGATE, Booksellers

Peterborough.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall
Preston.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Portsmouth.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Plymouth.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall (Millbsy)

Beading.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Stafford.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Stookton.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall
Mr. J. R. WOOD, Oaxton House

Southampton.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Southport.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, L. 4 Y. R.

Shields (North).

Mr. CLARKB, Nile Street

Messrs. SMITH & SON'S, Railway Station

Shields (South).

Mr. LAWSON, Fowler Street

Mr. LBABMOUNT, 76, King Street

Sheffield.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, Victoria Station

Thirsk.
Mr. WALKER, Railway Station

Tunbridge Wells.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, S.E.B.

"Warrington.
Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

Windsor.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall, G.W.R.
» „ „ S.W.R.

Wimbledon.

Messrs. SMITH 4 SON'S Book Stall

York.

Mr. BENTLEY, 63, Coney Street

Mr. GILBBBTSON, Silver Street

Mr. A. W. OUTHWAITB, 36, Market Street

Mr. SAMPSON, 13, Coney Street, and Book Stall, Ry. Stn.

SCOTLAND.
Edinburgh.

Mr. ARCHIBALD, 2, Dairy Road, Haymarket

Mr. W. G. B. ARCUS, 43, Broughton Street

Mr. ELLIOTT, 17, Princes Street

Mr. FAIRGBIBVE, 7 4 9, Cockbura Street

Messrs. GRANT & SON, 107, Princes Street

Mr. GARDNER, Dundas Street

Mr. JAMES HAIG, 1, Antigua Street

Messrs. KEITH & CO., 68, Princes Street

Mr. WM. KAY, 6, Bank Street

Messrs. MOODIE BROS., 9, Antigua Street

Miss MACK, 10, Clark Street

Messrs. MENZIES 4 CO., Hanover Street (Wholesale)
„ „ Wavorley Station (two Stalls)

„ „ Central Station (Caledonian)

Mr. MioPHAIL, 33, St. Andrew's Square

Mr. ROBINSON, 111, Leith Street

Mr. r. M. SLOAN, 19, Broughton Street

Mr. W. M. URQUHART, 46, Queen's Perry Rood

Glasgow.

Mr. BLYTHWOOD, Sauchiehall Street

Mr. WM. BARR (Wholesale), 16, Dumbarton Road

„ „ 63, Sauchiehall Street

Mr. M. DICKINSON, 193, Sauchiehall Street
Mr. GRAHAM (Wholesale', 108, Eglington Street
Mr. GRAHAM'S Book Stall, College St. Station, G.4 S.W.R.

„ , ,, Queen Street Station

„ , „ Central Station (two Stalls)

Mr. MOORE, Charing Cross
Mr. ROBERTSON, 142, Dumbarton Road
Mr. STEWART, 187, George Street
Mrs. WALKER, 230, Dumbarton Road
Messrs. WILSON 4 KING (Wholesale), 83, London Road

Leith.
Mr. GEORGE ELLIOTT, 71, Elm Row, Leith Walk
Mr. CHARLES DRUMMOND, 49, Duke Street
Mr. PRA8BR, 174, Leith Walk
Mr. A. HARDIB, 8, Eastern Road
Mr. O. HUNTER, 79, Brunswick Street, Leith Walk
Mesjrs. JOHN NAYLOE & CO., 147, Great Junction Stree

Lockerbie.
Messrs. MENZIES & CO., Railway Station

Stirling.

ENEAS MACKAY, 43, Murray Place

IRELAND.

Dublin.

Messrs. EASON 4 BON, 40, Backville Street

AMERICA.

New York.

Messrs. G. P. PUTNAM & SONS

PARIS.
Ueesn. OAIilGNANI, 224, Rue de BiTOl

188

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 12, 1898.

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This used to be true ; but the CAW
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liave to be carried upright ; it can be
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The CAW PEN is not merely the
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It is easily fiUed, and having a wide
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SONaS of LOVE and EMPIRE Poems by

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QUATN PROFESSORSHIP OF PHYSICS.
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PRIFYSGOL CYMRU. — UNIVERSITY of
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ALAN E. CLAPPERTON, Secretary of the Court.

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OYAL ACADEMY of ARTS.

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By Hall Caine.

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

By H. G. WELLS,

Author of "The Time Machine." 1 vol., 6s.

The Saturday Review.— "l-a Mr. I Wells the intellectual

processes are foremost, not the emotional. To possess a

new view of life and literature, to create its image with

minute and assiduous care, that is the way to secure fame.''

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The Spectator.—" As a writer of scientific romance, Mr.
Wells has never been surpassed. Poe was a man of rare
genius ; but in his work there is a stifling hot-house feeling
which is absent from Mr. Wells's work. Even when he is most
awful there is alwavs something human about his characters.
Both Poe and Mr. Wells are followers of Swift, but Mr. Wells
keeps nearest to the human side of the author of Gulliver."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The Outlook.— "tlir. Wells has achieved a triumph. Prom
first to last the illusion is complete. As we read, we believe
the history. For, it is in the singular combination of an
extraordinary power of supernatural imagining, with an
acute faculty of observation and an unfailing eye for essen-
tial detail, that Mr. Wells's admirable talent consists. We
have here one of the supreme sensations of literature : com-
parable to the master effects in Poe's ' Tales," in Sheridan
Lefanu'8 ' As in a Glass Darkly,' and 1,0 three or four scenes
in Defoe's • Journal of the Plague.' Indeed, Mr. Wells has
read his Defoe to some purpose ; he has improved upon tbe
methods of that master."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

Mercure de France.—" Curieux livre et oriprinal : 8up6-
rieur aux fantaisies de Jules Verne ; avec lea qualit<^ bril-
lantes et les pr(k)ccupations e^rieusea de E. L. Stevenson ;
avec dans le bizarre et le terrible quelquefois dea aspects
d'Edgar Poe."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

Literature. — "Ti^T. Wells writes vigorous, unaffected
EnprUsh : he knows bow a picture should be ' bitten in *
with a terse, decisive phrase, and he carries the reader on
triumphantly.**

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The Academy.—" Mr, Wells has done nothing before quite
so fine as this. You feel it, not as romance, but as realism.
As a crowning merit of the book, beyond its imaginative
vigour and its fidelity to life, it suggests rather than obtrudes
moral ideas. It is a thoughtful as well as an unusually
vivid and effective bit of workmanship."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The Speaker.—" He has beaten Jules Verne on his own
ground, and he has at the same time shown how romances of
the fantastic order can be linked with a high ethical purpose."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

Nature. — " Many writers of fiction have gathered materials
from the fairy-land of science, but none have done it more
successfully than Mr. Wells. Upon a groundwork of
scientific fact, his vivid imagination and exceptional powers
of description enable him to erect a structure which intel-
lectual readers can find pleasure in contemplating."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The World. — " No serial published in the last decade has
exerted the same amount of fascination, and we shall be
very much surprised if the sensation produced among its
new audience is less vivid or intense."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The Graphic. —" The most fascinating part about the
book is the trains of thought which it suggests, and it is
just this which distinguishes Mr. Wells's work from (the
writing of others who weave romance on unscientific and
unphilosophie lines."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

ThePaii3faiiGo«e<<«.— "Mr. Wells's invention never flags.
His manner is, as usual, singularly convincing, and his
humour is as daring and entertaining as ever."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

The Daily Telegraph.—" A story which must add greatly
to Mr. Wells's reputation, and one which no ordinary reader
can possibly put down half finished."

THE WAR OP THE WORLDS.

The Daily Xews.—" We recognise in it all Mr. Wells's
fine imagination, power of realistic presentation, and his
high and serious outlook on life. The moral significance of
the book cannot be contested."

THE BOAS TO KIiOin>rKE.

Now ready, demy Svo, cloth extra, 168.

THROUGH THE GOLD-FIELDS
OF ALASKA TO

BERING STRAITS.

By HARRY DE WINDT.
With Map and 33 Full-Page Illustrations,

"Mr. DeWindt'B book kItcs, for the first time, a connected and
irraphie account of a country to which attention must of neceBsitybe

more and more directed It is pleasantly written, and fully iflu»-

trated by reprodactions of photographs taken on the spot It can

liardiv fait to be welcome to all who love a volume of adventurooi
travel."— rinw».

"Mr. De Windt describes this book as the record of a failure 80

interesting a record is it that not many recent successeB in the way of
adventurous travel equal it in grim human interest. Certainly, Mr.
De Windt has behind him one of the most painful experiencesthat wb
have read of since many years."— /Milj/ ChronicU.

"The 'golden joys' of the successful, as Mr. De Windt de8cri.>efl
them, are brilliant enough to buoy the adventurous up, even in
the icy waters of lake Lanarge and the Yukon River. The book is
vigorously and pleasantly written, and the excellent illustrations lend
reality to it« lively descriptions."— (yia«ifou> Herald.

" Mr. De Windt has mnuy a graphic narrative and personal experi-
ence, and to the prospector the painstaking technical detail should

prove eminently useful Mr. De Windt'a book is sure to be voted one

of the most enjoyable travel-books ..f the year. It deals with a remark-
able climate, novel natural appearances, and with a horribly fascinat-
ing, if repuliive* people, the Tchuktchis. — iforninfr Leader.

ARCHIBALD FORBES'S NEW BOOK.
Demy 8to, cloth extra, gilt top, 123.

THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON IIL

By ARCHIBALD FORBES.

With Photogravure Frontispiece and 30 FtUl-Pa^e
Illnstrations.

" Written with a vigour which we expect in the work of the famoo*
war correspondent."— (TorW.

"An extremely interesting sketch of one of the moat extraordinary

of careers The mere chronicle of the events with which he was

connected suffices to engross the reader. — Mr. forbes's book is
uniformly interesting."— i.»<<raiMre.

" Mr. Archibald Porbes's * Life of Napoleon III.' adds to the accuracy

of an historical auaal the charm of romance He has compiled a

stirring narrative. With tbe first blast of the trumpet of war the
pluckiest, most resourceful, and most successful war correspondent of
the century is at his best again. The story of the campaign is a
brilliant piece of writing. It carries the reader breathless to the
closing scene at Chislehurst."— PuncA.

A WOMAN TEMPTED HIM. By

WILLIAM WESTALL, Author of "With the Red
Eagle," &c. Crown Svo, cloth, gilt top, 6a.

THE DISASTER. By Paul and Victor

MARGUERITTE. Translated by FRKDEBIO LEK8,
Crown Svo, cloth, Ss. 6d. [Om February 24.

'* A strong, a remarkable book."— Sp«lJt<r.

" This powerful picture of the fate of the Army of the Rhine, by the
sons of one of the ffeuerals who did their duty, is amoog tbe Quest
descriptions of war that have been penned,"— .4Wiemewtu.

MISS BALMAINE'S PAST. By B. M.

CROKEE, Author of "Beyond the Pale," &c. Crown
870, cloth, gilt top, 6s,
" Mi8s Balmaine is as well drawn and lifelike as Diana Barringtoo
or any of her successors." — World.

"The story is wholesome and interesting: and it deserves recogni*
tion as a work of honest literary effort and unquestionable attrac-
tion."—.dWenaum.

TALES in PROSE and VERSE. By

D. CHRISTIE MURRAY, Author of "Joseph's Coat."

Crown Svo, cloth, 38. 6d.
" Amongst the few novelists of a really high order we to-day possMt.
Mr. Christie Murray holds a foremost place. His right to that plaoe
he puts more and more beyond dispute in eveir work that come* from
his band, as in the present volume."— Llovd'< ivewt.

London: WM. HEESTEMANN, 21, Bedford Street, W.C,

THIS LITTLE WORLD. By D.Christie

MURRAY. Crown Svo, cloth, gilt top, 68.
" Mr. Murray has never done anything better than this fine story.
The incidents are presented with wonderful force and freshness, the
action never drags, and in vividness and power of characti-risation the
story is masterly. . . .It is a book that will add to Mr. Murray s reputa-
tion."—BirmiiipAom Po$t.

MORE TRAMPS ABROAD. By Mark

TWAIN. Crown Svo, cloth, gilt top, 68.
"Mr. Clemens's new book is a really admirable piece of craftsmaD-

ship Even if the book had no other side than its Berioueoofcit

would be well worth reading ; but beint? by Mark Twain, it is needleM

to say that it has plenty of humour as well There are nearly Ave

hunored pages in bis book, but we must confess to having read «
through at a sitting ; and we can remember no other work from nis
pen which we have found so attractive,"— 0iurdtan.

London : CflATTO 4 WINPUS, 111, St, Martin's Uue, W.C.

Fkb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

19^

CONTENTS.

Faoe

Reviews :

; Twenty-one Minor Poeta 193

Decadent, Mystic, Catholic 196

Heroes, Ancient and Modem 198

Mr. Justin McCarthy's " Gladstone " 199

Crazj- Arithmetic 199

Briefer Mention 199

Fiction Si^pplement 201 — 204

Notes and News - 205

Sm Thomas Browne 208

What the People Read : X., An Ambassador of

Commerce 209

The London of the Writers : VI., Thb Cockney

Sentiment 209

Paris Letter 210

The Week 211

The Book Market 212

Drama 213

Correspondence .. 213

Book Reviews Reviewei/ 214

REVIEWS.

TWENTY-ONE MINOR POETS.

A FEW weeks ago, when our shelf
whereon the productions of the
song- smiths of the day are stacked would
hold no more, it occurred to us to give
these volumes the attention that memoirs
and books about cathedrals receive. So
we emptied the shelf and the slim volumes
were read. We found plenty of fluent,
cultured, melodious verse — plenty of little
birds with agreeable twitters, but no larks.
The result of our labour is below. Some-
thing is quoted from each songster. We
ofEer you, as it were, a slice from the breast.
If the taste is to your palate, there is more
' of the bird for the asking.

Il>j Severn Sea. By T. Herbert Warren.
(Murray.)

iThe President of Magdalen belongs to the

ireflective school of poetry. His verse is

Iquiet, reserved, urbane ; every syllable has

Ibeen carefully weighed ; every epithet

^tested ; and the file has gone over all

igain and again. Hence we have a matured

yolume, as excellent as study and pains can

nake it. Mr. Warren certainly does not

iing because he must, but because he likes

0, and here are the fruits of his scholarly

snjoyment. We like the book not a little.

t reflects the kindly courteous tempera-

aent of a lover of good literature, of the

jiest literary traditions, and of the West of

pngland. There is much that we would

'willingly quote, but we must confine our-

elves to these stanzas from his address to

ie author of Lorna Boone :

" Prose poet of the fabled West,

Ere school and railway had begun
To fuse our shires and tongues in one,
And equalise the worst and best.

While Devon vowels fluted yet

By Dart and Lyim their mellow length,
While flourished still in Saxon strength

The consonants of Somerset.

Your Exmoor epic fixed the lines
That lingered on by combe and tor,
And in the hollow vale of Care

You foimd a matter for your muse !

The brigands' den, the prisoned bride,
The giant yeoman's hero mould.
Who fought and garrulously told

The Ihad of his country side :

You bade them Uve and last for us
And for our heirs, as caught erewhile
The Doric of his rocky isle

Lives in your loved Theocritus."

Selected Poems from the Works of the Hon.
Roden Noel. With a Biographical and
Critical Essay by Percy Addleshaw.
(Elkin Mathews.)

"His great contemporaries — Tennyson and
Brovraing — hailed him gladly," says Mr.
Addleshaw; adding, "I, for one, am content
to abide by their verdict, as Noel himself
would have been." No doubt ! Although
the great world of small contemporaries did
not hail Mr. Noel particularly gladly, those
who read poetry (some call them the " fit
and few ") must agree that there was some-
thing of the poet in him. Moreover, he was
sincere, and he loved nature, and he loved
children. As with Tennyson, his best work
flowered from a great grief. The death of
his little son produced A Little Child's
Monument, his most enduring claim to
remembrance. This may not be immortal
verse, but it touches :

" What is the grey world, darhng,
What is the grey world
Where the worm is curled, darling,
The death worm is curled ?
They tell me of the spring, dear !
Do I want the spring ?
Will she waft upon her wing, dear,
The joy-pulse of her wing,
Thy songs, thy blossoming,

0 my little child !

1 am lying in the grave, love.
In thy htQe grave,

Yet I hear the wind rave, love.

And the wild wave !

I would lie asleep, darling,

With thee he asleep,

TJnhearing the world weep, darling,

Little children weep !

O my Uttle child ! "

Rhymes of Ironquill. Selected and Arranged
by J. A. Hammerton. (George Eedway.)

"Ironquill" is known to the postman as
the Honourable Eugene F. Ware. His home
is Topeka, Kansas; he is an attorney and
politician ; and in the words of Dr. John
Clark Eedpath, " as a publicist and man of
affairs he is second to none " of the leaders
of the American Commonwealth. In his
leisure Mr. Ware writes serious and comic
verse, a volume of which is now offered to
English readers for the first time. Its
straightforward vigour is its greatest recom-
mendation. "Ironquill" knows his mind
and expresses it as forcibly and concisely as
he is able. He can be both dignified and
familiar, sonorous and frolicsome. He can
write thus :

"Fear Ye Him.

1 fear Him not, nor yet do I defy.

Much could He harm me, cared He but to try.

Much could He frighten me, much do me ill.
Much terrify me, but — He never will.

The sold of justice must itself be just ;

Who trembles moat betrays the most distrust. '

So, plunging in life's current deep and broad,
I teke my chances, ignorant — ^unawed."

And he can write thus :

" Lovely Woman.

And as around our manly neck she throws
Her dimpled arms with artless unconcern.
And kisses us and asks us to be hem.
And pats us on the jaw, do you suppose

That we say 'No,' grow frightened on the

spot,
And faint away? Well, we should reckon
not.
Yoimg man, come West ! you've got a lot to
learn."

IronquUl's verses are unequal, but the
best are of soimd workmanship, and have in
an unusual degree qualities of good sense,
sympathy, and dry humour.

Love's Fruition. By Alfred Gumey, M.A.
(Longmans, Green & Co.)

In a former book Mr. Gumey, vicar of
S. Barnabas, Pimlico, attempted " to ex-
pound and glorify friendship." Here his
theme is the " marriage mystery," its
marvels and meanings. His verse is of
excellent intention, and that is all. The
vicar of S. Barnabas was happy in his
marital relations; but he is no poet, and
despite his sUm search-light of song, the
"marriage-mystery" remains for us un-
solved ; but he is modest, and if his muse
does not arouse enthusiasm, it is a weU-
behaved muse. Here is a specimen :

" To love aright is to enhance
Life's loveliest significance ;
What shall the gathered harvest be
When hearts embrace eternally."

Ephemera. By J. M. Cobbett. (Oxford :
Alden & Co.)

Mr. Cobbett is one of those poets who are
inspired by Events and Prominent Persons.
This is the opening of Mr. Cobbett' s sonnet
to the Czar :

" Now God be with you, noble Czar. Our land
Thou leavest for a gayer.

And this the beginning of his address to
Lord Eosebory :

" My lord, if but for thy most honest word,
True Englishmen will honour thee this day."

And this d propos " a certain London firm "
who supplied the Transvaal with arms :

" Oh, England! Curse this hour, cover thy
head !
Where is thine honour fled ? "

But the poem by which Mr. Cobbett woidd
no doubt prefer to be judged is that called
simply " Passion." Here is an extract. We
are sorry for the lady :

" Look upon my face.
Into the eyes that hunger to meet thine :
Eyes blazing with a brightness, not of wine.

But Love's fierce fire :
And note therein this sacred passion's trace
And mad desire !

The mad desire of a soul deep-stirr'd.
Who finds in thee his Heaven or his Hell,
And in thy slightest frown his fimeral knell,

Making dry sobs
Choke, ere 'tis spoken, each tumultuous word

liro' which Love throbs.

And having seen and heard, then, if thou canst,
Put calmly by a Love that sues m vain :
Vex'd by a little tnck of scarce-felt pain

Turn and depart !
With this proud trophy be thy fame enhancea—

My murder' d heart ! "

A Vision of England, and, other Poems. By

John Eickards Mozley. (E. Bentley & bon. )

Mr. Mozley's muse is patriotic. The Vision

of England fiUs over twenty pages, and

extends from the period ^vhen ''our mother

earth of yore did sink from fiery essence

into sleep of stone" down to the time of

Darwin. Here is an average specimen.

Mr. Mozley is addressing England—

" How came it thou wast torn from Europe's

strand

In ancient days? The Atlantic, surging

Between the mounts o'er which th' archangel's

hand , , u .

Once held its mighty guard, as told m song.
In moon-persuaded currents swept along.
And smote on Beachy Head with gathering

Then, straitened in his channel, piled the

throng
Of waters high, and, like a hon, tore
The Dover isthmus through, and reached the

German shore."
The book is dedicated to the Queen. With
the sentiment of the last two lines we
heartily concur :

" May thou and thine go through the open door
And hear ' Well done ! ' and join the heavenly
choir."

Songs of Flying Jlours. By Dr. E. W.

Watson. (PhiladelpWa : H. T. Coates

&Co.)
We can imagine this volume being welcome
in a sick-room. Dr. Watson has wide
sympathies, a list of subjects tbat range
from the " Song of Brahma " to " BaciUi,''
and a facility for melodious verse which
is rather agreeable. A great poet? Oh,
dear, no ! But a minor poet upon whom we
are disposed to smile. "I will go down to
the Land of Sleeping " is pretty ; and this,
called "At Last," may please some :

" I come, O heart so true,
At last to thee.
All others fail,
And, wan and pale
With the rude blows
The world has showered on me,
I come for rest to thee.

Down at thy feet

I lay thq sins of years ;

I claim no mercy

In my bitter pain,

But thy blest tears.

Falling upon me like the gentle rain,

Free me from fears.

O hpart that never tires,

O heart that never fails.

Ever forgives, nothing requires,

Tho' I have wronged thee sore.

My tired head I rest

Upon thy breast.

And roam no more."

Th^ Child of the Bondivoman, and Other Verses.
By Jean Carlyle Graham. (David Nutt.)

Mbs. GEABA^r writes verse with some power;

ehe has plenty of imagination, and plenty

of words. But she is too ambitious. In

b 3 longest of these poems, "The Child of

TIlK ACADEMY.

the Bondwoman," slie attacks the difficult
theme of a girl's tumult of soul on discover-
ing the shame of her birth. The result is
a poem which is too exclamatory, too
obviously wrought up. Two other poems,
"A Dream of Death and Life," and "In
the Beginning was the Word," are open
to the same criticism. But we like Mrs.
Graham's "Three Legends from the Pyre-
nee i." The first tells how Christ appeared,
kneeling in prayer, to some goatherds.
We quote the last four stanzas of this moving
littl s ballad :

"With staves they beat His patient back.
With stones His flesh they tore.
With taunting words His ears they stung.

And then set on the more ;
They gave themselves no time to note

The amazing love His dear eyes wore.
Then God the Father from His throne

In might arose and frown'd.
A darkness spread. The sun sank, dead.

Jagg'd darts'the mountain crown'd.
An icy brealh of wrath sped forth
And wrapt the goatherds round.
Our Lorl stretch'd out to them His hands—

The goatherds all dismay'd
Fell down upon their trembling knees
And cross'd their breasts and pray'd.
He raised them and He led them Home
In shining garments all array'd.

No more yon starlit village street
Their clanking goat-bells heard ;

No more the golden mestura
These homely goatherds stirr'd.

On Nethoa 'neath the time-long smw
Their bones await God's Final Word."

Jiip Van Winkle. By William Akerman.

(Bell & Sons.)
Thk title-poem is a dramatic version in
rhyme of the old legend, well enough
arranged to make a very entertaining play
at a school breaking-up. It has, indeed,
much spirit. The Poems and Lyrics that
follow, though unimportant and not conspic-
uous for depth or novelty of thought, are
pleasant too. This fragment of a "Viking's
Song " is among the best of them :

"Now skaU to the Vikings, the Vikings so bold,
So fearless in battle, so famous of old.
Sun-tanned are our faces, our locks are of
gold;

Ahoi, my bold Vikings, Ahoi I
We plunder the noble, we plunder the priest.
We rob the fat abbot to furnish our feast.
There's no fare so fine as the convent-fed
beast,

Ahoi, my bold Vikings, Ahoi I
So now slack the ropes, turn the sails to the

wind.
And sweep o'er the swan's bath more fortimes

to find.
The world is before us, and nothing behind,
Ahoi, my bold Vikings, Ahoi ! "

Drift Weed, By H. M. Burnside. (Hutchin-
son & Co.)

It may have been noticed by those that
receive Christmas cards that Miss Burnside
has succeeded the late Frances Eidley
Havergal as the favourite poet for Christ-
mastide quotations. According to the little
preface to this volume. Miss Burnside has
been making songs for many years, and
there is, doubtless, a large number of
persons who wiU be glad of this collected
edition of her kindly writings. That she
cannot hear the music gf her own songs

[Feb. 19, 189d.

addS; says Miss Carey, who introduces the
volume, a deeper pathos to their rhythm.
The poems are very gentle, slender little
messages. We need not say more. Tliis —
" English Daisies " — is pretty and repre-
sentative :

*' We were drawing very near.

And the clifTs shone white and clear.

And the little boats rowed past us f i om the
strand.
When a host of flowers sweet
Lighted softly at ray feet,

Like a blessing and a welcome from the land.

English daisies — nothing more — .

From some meadow — on the shore.
But I felt my eyes grow wet with happy
tears.

I had seen rare flowers bloom

In the fragrant forest gloom,
Where the orient palm its plumy summit real «,

While I wandered far away,

For many a weary day.
From my cottage in a sunny English lane.

But those daisies fresh and sweet

Came my longing eyes to greet.
Like a blessing and a welcome home again."

Lays and Legends of England. By M. C.
Tyndall. (J. Baker & Son.)

Mu. Tyndall is a patriot, and he would
liave us all patriots too ; which is an excel-
lent ambition. Hence his songs and ballads
of the glory of the Navy and the Army, and
his joy in the West Country. There is no
love of land like your West Countryman's.
A Diamond Jubilee Ode very suitably opens
the volume. But for technique we think
that the hunting song from which the fol-
lowing stanzas are taken is more satisfactory
than the patriotic verse. It has swing and
spirit of its own ; whereas the bulk of the
book is laudable in. intention, but not spon-
taneous or distinguished. Here is Mr.
Tyndall, mounted on Pegasus, all ready for
the chase ;

" Not a cloud or a care on the spirit can lurk.
On a rattling good horse settling down to

his work,
Who the stiffest of fences was ne'er known to
shirk ;
'Tis the sport of all sports, I contend.
When the ruck has tailed off, to be in the

first flight.
With the pick of the fi<'ld, and the hounds

well in sight.
Sixty minutes with never a check goiug well,
And then, j ust as the pace is beginning to tell,
With a kill in the open to end I "

A Tale from Boccaccio. By Arthur Coles
Armstrong. (Constable & Co.)

Mb. Ahmstronq is a correct, if not impas-
sioned, practitioner in verse. The title- poem
is the longest ; but it is machine-made--
an epithet which, indeed, applies to most
of Mr. Armstrong's poetry. The machine,
it is true, is well-oiled and accurate: but
a machine none the less. We like the poet
best in the following lyric :

" Death's Sleep.

" I know where violets five,
Ere yet th'-y reach the sua ;
And who doth roses give
Ere summer is begun.
And^vhen the shadows fall.
The silver stars I see ;
I have a uiuie for all.
And all are kaown to me,

fEB. 1!), 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

195

When leaves are dead and sere,
They fall upon my head,
And keep me dry and warm
Within my earthly bed.

I am so still and warm —
Laid in a quiet sleep ;
Oh ! wherefore dost thou cry ?
And wherefore dost thou weep ?"

A Window
M'Leod.

in LincoMs Inn. By Addison
(Kegan Paul & Co.)

Mr. M'Leod diversifies rather good sonnets
with some of the worst blank verse we have
ever seen. This is a specimen line :

"Higher than Watkin's Tower at Wembley
Park ; "

this is another :

" And No. 6 is always in arrears ; "
ind then one more :

" Only we spell it with a capital C."
[Such remarks had best be put direct into
Srose. The book is the product of a critical
joind that has observed and thought. It is
lot constructive ; but the workmanship is
ileft. Here is a fair sonnet :

' Not in a dark cathedral, where the knees

Press velvet ; and the lips from cups of gold

Drink precious wine ; and endlessly o'ertold

One long dark stream of muttered mysteries

Sinks into ears half heeding Not from these

Drink I God's Spirit, but where mountains

bold
Rise in disdain ; and tempests, wintry cold,
Cut out the heart of man's infirmities.
Thpre, with a jut of rock for altar rail,
With bitter bread and rough and eager

wine,
On peaks that only hardiest feet have trod,
Spirits that in the valley droop and fail,
' Turn to their Maker, with a touch divine,
I To take the Sacrament ordained of God."

yd Back by the Angels. By the Rev.
Frederick Langbridge. (Cassell & Co.)

1 we were minded to describe Mr. Lang-

I'idge in a phrase, we should call him the

'^votional Dagonet. His ballads have the

ne sentimental basis, but there is more of

3ty en route. They are always homely, and

en humorous and pathetic, the rhymes

a! simple and plentiful, and the metre is

n sical. Here is a part of "Doctor Dan's

iret":

8 they lonnge at ease, and toast their knees,
The host, with a laugh, will say,

IMy kingdom's small, but over it all

j I reign with a despot's sway.

I o serious dame may freeze my joke

I With a glance of her awful eye,

I'or cough rebuke from a cloud of smoke,

I Nor put the decanter by.

jfeel in my heart, says Doctor Dan,

i?or that poor white slave, the married
man.'"

Enchanted River. By Augustus Ealli.
pigby, Long & Co.)

Ml Ealli can be a bad poet. He can write
thi—

" liad a friend — a lady friend, I mean-
pose taste for poetry was much developed ' ' —

Bu| certainly the piece from which these
lin^ are taken is the worst in the book.
Inither lines he is a quiet and correct
verifier, who, having little to say, says it as
deliitely as he can. He is at his best in

the translation of Moschus' " Lament for
Bion." Here are the closing lines :

" O ! if I could, as Orpheus did of yore,
Odysseus too and Heracles before,
I also unto Pluto's home would go
To hear if thou art singing still below.
But now some sweet Sicilian music play.
Sing to Persephone some pastoral lay ;
For she, too, was a fair Sicilian maid
And in the fertile fields of Enna played.
Pidl well of old she knew the Dorian strain.
Not unrewarded shall thy song remain ;
And as to Orpheus, when he touched the lyre,
She gave Eurydice his sole desire,
So yet it may be granted unto thee
To seek once more thy native moimtains free.
If in my pipe there lurked the magic power.
To Pluto would I sing this self- same hour."

Song and Thought. By Richard Yates
Sturges. (George Red way.)

There is more song than thought in Mr.
Sturge's twitterings. Garden lore and
linnets, and falling loaves and broken notes,
are the themes beloved of his correct but
fragile muse. Here is a bit of Love's
philosophy :

" Why is old love just like new love ?
Because the only love is true love ;
And though years may pass away.
Love has one sweet summer day.

Why is new love just like old love ?
Because true love is still untold love ;
And though time in love be sped.
All the best remains unsaid."

Pan : A Collection of Lyrical Poems. By
Rose Haig Thomas. (Bliss, Sands & Co.)

Miss TnoitAs has a gift ; and she loves
nature with a youthful and abounding
love, not looking beyond, but revelling
in all its manifestations — its primordial
tumults and its finished daisy. In her
first poem, "Nature," Miss Thomas tells in
blank verse the story of evolution to the
birth of human speech. Here is her picture
of primitive man becoming articulate ;

" The brute still dominant,
In sUence yet he thought
While ages rolled.
Then his intelligence
Opened a spanless gulf
'Twixt him and other kind,
He struck a flint on flint.
Quick caught the spark,
Ajid breathed it into flame I
Still silent, still no voice.
Save the wild cry of war.
Or wooing tones of love.
Until the dumb begat
A man articulate.
And from his Being sprung
A race of loosened tongues.
The silver sound of speech
Flooded a silent world."

At the Gates of Song ! Sonnets. By Lloyd
Mifilin. (Boston : Estes & Lauriat.)

These hundred and fifty sonnets have poetic
feeling, and are technically good. Some
weigh the large issues of life ; others convey
literary appreciations ; not a few are grace-
fully trivial. Here is a sonnet inspired by
" An old Venetian Wine Glass " !

" Daughter of Venice, fairer than the moon I
From thy dark casement leaning, half

divine.
And to the lutes of love that low repine
Across the midnight of the hushed lagoon
Litteningwithlanguour in adreamful swoon— '

On such a night as this thou didst entwine
Thy lily fingers round this glass of wine.
And clasped thy chmbing lover — none too
soon.
Thy lover left, but ere he left thy room
From this he drank, his warm lipg at the

brim ;
Thou kissed it as he vanished in the gloom ;
That kiss because of thy true love for him
Long, long ago when thou wast in thy

bloom —
Hath left it ever rosy rotmd the rim.

Songs of Liberty. By Robert Underwood
Johnson. (The Century Co.)

Like Tom Moore, Mr. Johnson sings by
turn the love of country and the love of
woman, and the regrets which attend both.
His opening " Apostrophe to Greece,"
"begun on the steps of the Parthenon, and
published in the New York Independent "
(cause and effect !), is poetically conceived —
but it is not thrilling. The brightest piece
in the volume is " An Irish Love Song " :

" In the years about twenty
(When kisses are plenty)
The love of an Irish lass fell to my fate — ■
So winsome and sightly.
So saucy and sprightly.
The priest was a prophet that christened her
Kate.

Poems. By Henry D. Muir. (Chicago.)

Mr. Muir's book bears no publisher's name.
The verses inside it are not, on the whole,
such as would attract a publisher. They
are full of the fine phrasings of the budding,
imitative, and entirely unpromising singer.
Mr. Muir is at his best in the one humorous
piece we find in his volume. It is called
" Literary Musings."

" Corked up in Memory's bottle,
I've gems from Aristotle ;
I have gone through Homer's epics and have
stuck my nose in Plato ;

I have formed a good idea
Of Euripides' ' Medea,'
Aristophanes, .Slsohylus, and Smith on ' The
Potato.'

Sappho, Ovid, Virgil, Horace,

And many a Gri cian chorus.
Are jumbled up together with Josh Billings,
Twain, and Nye;

While Shakespeare, Scott, and Dickens,

And 'The Way to Eiise Young Chickens,'
All mix within my head to form a literary pie.

But ne'er in verse or story.
Nor in the drama's glory.
Nor in the bright romantic tale, nor in the
brinyyarn.

Have I found that safisfaction
Which I drew in youth's abstraction
From the blood-and-thunder novel that I read
behind the barn."

The Starless Crotcn, and Other Poems. By
J. L. H. (Elliot Stock.)

Verses entitled " Gone to Grandmamma's,"
disarm the critic. Nor is anything to be
said either for or against lines such as these
on a golden-crested wren's nest-building :

" Brisk as ever.

Quick and clever.
Nest is snug and tight;

Twelve wee beauties

Bring new duties.
Work from morn till night."

19S

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 19, 1898.

DECADENT, MYSTIC, CATHOLIC.

La CatUArah. Par J. K. Huysmans.
(Paris : P. V. Stock.')

This long-expected book is out at last, and
bids fair to attract as much attention as its
predecessors. Althougb not published till
the beginning of the present month, it is
already in its seventh edition, and
arrangements have been made for its
appearance in English dress. It is, how-
ever, so unlike any ordinary novel in form
and conception that it is hardly possible to
appreciate it without some acquaintance
with M. Huysmans' own career and with
his earlier works.

Joris Karl Huysmans is one of a dis-
tinguished family of artists, for some
generations domiciled in Paris, and a
descendant of Huysman de Malines, whose
works belong to the Flemish school of the
seventeenth century. Bom in the Bohemian
life of the capital, he early preferred litera-
ture to design, and made his bow to the
public at the age of twenty- six with a small
volume of poems only too plainly inspired
by Baudelaire's Fleurs du Mai. Later, he
became a disciple of Zola, and published,
in 1876, his first novel, Marthe, wherein he
describes the life of a courtesan of the lower
class with such pronounced realism that the
book had to be published in Brussels.
Then followed in quick succession Les
Sceurs Vatard, the history of two factory
girls ; En Menage, a study in divorce, and
several other works of which it is only
necessary to mention here A Rehours (" The
Wrong Way "). In this, surely one of the
most tedious books ever written, M. Huys-
mans describes with wearisome minuteness
the vagaries of a debauchee of good family,
who, worn out with excess at the age of
thirty, buys with the sale of his ancestral
property a house in the suburbs of Paris,
and sets seriously to work to console himself,
like Pope's Sporus, with the pleasures of
taste. So exquisite is his sensibility that he
secludes himself not only from society, but
from Nature herself, and lives only by
artificial light in rooms decorated in extra-
ordinary colours, fitted instead of windows
with aquariums filled with coloured water
and clockwork fish, and perfumed by an
apparatus on which he can compose "sym-
phonies" of scent instead of sound. Had
M. Huysmans ever shown a spark of humour
in any of his writings, we might here
suspect him of a satire after the fashion of
The Colonel or Patience upon the aesthete of
his time. But the book is inspired by a
different motive, and when its hero is
dragged back by his doctors to Paris with
a digestion ruined by a dietary of liqueurs,
strange teas and other nastinesses, he utters
the cry :

" Lord, have pity on a Christian who doubts,
on the sceptic who wishes to beUeve, on the
convict for life embarking alone and in dark-
ness under a sky which the cheering signal-
lights of an ancient hope no longer lighten."

It is with the answer to this prayer that
M. Huysmans concerns himself in the series
of which La Catltedrale is the last example.

So far, M. Huysmans liud made no
morei' ambitions appeal to tlie public

than the dozens of Parisian novelists
whom the institution of the feuiUeton enables
to turn out romances as if by machinery for
the delectation of the newspaper-reading
public. His earlier critics, while giving
him credit for a strength not apparent to
English eyes, seem to have noted in him only
two peculiarities — viz., a passion for trivial
details and a tendency to dwell upon the
revolting. Both these failings they attri-
buted, perhaps with reason, to his Flemish
extraction, while his excursion into the
eccentric in A Belours must have seemed to
many to have been inspired by the love of
cahotinage or play-acting for its own sake
from which no Parisian is ever entirely free.
But with Ld-Bas, the opening volume of his
new venture, M. Huysmans bounded clear
of the ruck of his fellow-craftsmen and
became at once, if his publishers' figures
are in anyway to be trusted, one of the most
popular writers in France. In this most
daring book M. Huysmans shows us M.
Durtal, a blase man of letters, in whom
some see the hero of A Rehours grown older,
engaged in writing a history of the monster
Gilles de Eais, once the brother-in-arms of
Joan of Arc, whose many crimes are detailed
by Mr. Baring Gould in his Book of
Werewolves. Durtal, while chronicling the
insane atrocities of this wretch, receives the
advances of Mme. Chantelouve, a member
of the upper middle class of Parisian Catholic
society, but a secret adherent of the supposed
sect of devil-worshippers. By her he is
taken to a disused chapel in the heart of Paris,
where Satan is formally invoked by an apos-
tate priest, and a horrible parody of the mass
is celebrated, followed by an orgy of hysteri-
cal lust. But all this disgusting machinery
is, so to speak, butjthe drum beaten outside the
booth to draw the crowd to the show inside ;
and the real purpose of the book is shown in
certain conversations which take place round
the dinner-table of Carhaix, a bell-ringer of
St. Sulpice. Carhaix and his wife are both
Bretons, pious with the piety of Catholics
who have never known doubt, and Durtal's
fellow-guests are a doctor who apparently
represents the scientific negation of the
supernatural, and an astrologer who exhibits
in his own person the absurdity of an over-
credulous belief in it. As may be guessed,
the simple faith of Carhaix shines by the
side of the doctor's cold scepticism and
Durtal's mental unrest, and the book ends
with his prophecy to the latter.

" Here below," he says, " all is decomposed,
all is dead — but above I Oh, I admit that the
outpouring of the Holy Ghost, the advent of the
Divine Paraclete may be delayed ! But the
texts which announced it are inspired, and the
future may be counted upon. The dawn will
be clear."

M. Huysmans' next book, En Route, the
only one which has yet been translated into
English, unfolds another chapter in the
history of Durtal's soul. Shocked by the
sudden deaths of Carhaix and the doctor, he
slips back rather than is reconverted to the
religion of his youth, and spends a week in
retreat at a Trappist monastery, where, after
terrible mental struggles, he is fully recon-
ciled to the Church, and returns to Paris a
sincere and professing Catholic. And so
we come at last to the volume before us.

which is as simple in construction and as

barren of incident as its forerunners. The

scene is laid at Chartres, whose cathedral

gives its title to the book. Hither

come before the volume opens Durtal, the

old priest under whose direction he took

his first steps towards reconciliation, and

a new character in the shape of a pious

woman who acts as the priest's housekeeper.

Here, too, these three meet a certain Abbe

Plomb, an antiquarian canon of Chartres,

and the four indulge in several exquisite

discussions after the fashion of Carhaix and

his guests, but this time on the symbolism

of the cathedral and on sublime points of

mysticism arising out of the lives of the

saints. These discussions and Durtal's

soliloquies take up the greater part of the

book ; but spiritual matters are not neglected.

The religious ceremonies at which Durtal

assists are described with much fervour and

wealth of detail, and both the priests are

represented as busying themselves with his

state of mind and with the melancholy

which perpetually besets him. Finally, they

prevail upon him to undertake another

retreat, this time to the Benedictine Abbey

of Solesmes, and we leave him on the way

thither ; but this, though it ends the book,

does not exhaust the series. Ab-eady two

more volumes are in preparation, and from

hints dropped in the former volumes we can

pronounce one of them to be the life of

St. Lydwine or Lidwine (M. Huysmans

seems himself uncertain as to the spelling),

who apparently played a considerable part

in Durtal's conversion ; while the other will

deal with his reception in some Benedictine

house as an " oblate "—t.e., a sort of lay

monk, who is subject to the Eule, but does

not take the irrevocable vows of the Order.

We sincerely hope that M. Huysmans will

leave his hero in peace when he gets him

there. Five volumes on the history of one

soul should satisfy even Mr. Arthur Balfour.

On the whole, we are a little disappointed

with La CatMdrale. Durtal does not, indeed,

improve on acquaintance. His struggles

with the flesh at La Trappe, his terrible

conflict with himself over his first confession,

and his doubts and fears about receiving

the Eucharist, were depicted for us in so

lifelike a manner as to move the most

thoughtless. It was impossible, in fact, to

read En Route without feeling as one would

at the sight of a man struggling with a

rushing stream for his life. But with

Durtal at Chartres it is much more difacidt

to sympathise. His conversion has brought

him no peace of mind, and he goes through

the process which Kingsley described as

"fingering his spiritual muscles to see if

they are growing," with the most irritating

frequency. Moreover, though the superiority

of the mystic over the ordinary believer is

vaunted on almost every page, Durtal does

not seem to be making progress towards the

conscious union of the soul with the Deity,

which is said by all mystics to be the goal

at which thev aim. Although we are

told he has been set at La Trappe, on

the road to the Mystic City, and even to

have "perceived its confines on the horizon,

he is in no hurry to continue his course.

Instead, he devotes himself to much maun

dering about the symbolical meamngs "

Fkb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

197

certain colours, gems, and even beasts,
birds, and plants, only worthy of a mediaeval
Cabalist or of the modern Parisian society
of the Eose Croix. And with all this, he
shows an asperity and an intolerance
which says little for his charity. The
thought of pious founders perpetuating
their names on the churches they buUd
fiUs him with horror, while some remarks
on the use to be made of the Eiicharist lead
him to anticipate the outcry that they would
provoke " in the gang of grocers of the
Temple, and in the sacred band of devotees
who have their luxurious prie-Bieus and
reserved seats near the altar, like theatre
stalls in the house of all." As for the
literary world of Paris, he expresses himself
about it in most vitriolic language.

*' To see much of these subaltern scribblers
and oneself remain clean is," he says, " im-
possible. One must choose between their com-
pany and that of honest folk, between speaking
evil and holding one's tongue. For their
speciaUty is to prune you of all charitable ideas,
iuid to ease you of friendship in the twinkling
of an eye."
I It is, perhaps, fidelity to his art which
makes M. Huysmans represent his hero as
attacked by one of the most ordinary failings
of religious people, but one cannot help
j feeling a wish to thump M. Durtal into a
I less Pharisaical frame of mind.
I It appears, therefore, likely that M.
Huysmans' reputation is still in the making,
and that he must do better than in La
Cathech-ale if his future place in literature is
to be as great as his present popularity.
His contemporaries' judgment on his work
is still abundantly justified, and it is its
jlikeness to that of the Dutch painters whom
ihe worships which is at once its strength
ind its weakness. As Teniers or Gerard
Dow would expend the same painful care
ipon the presentment of a pot or a pan as
lipon the principal figure of the picture, so
l\I. Huysmans must describe every unim-
portant detail with the same wealth of
pithet and illustration in which he would
et forth the main incidents of his story, did
condescend to incidents. Not content
vith teUing us that the country folk
?ho received the new bishop at Chartres
-ore old-fashioned clothes, he must needs
escribe them. Their coats, their hats, all
ass imder review, and we have to be told
lat they wore " white gloves cleaned with
etroleum and rubbed with india-rubber
ad bread-crumbs." When he wishes to
ly that the wind was sweeping the streets
E Chartres, he thus concludes a ""page of
sscription :

" Some belated ecclesiastics hm-ried on,
asping with one hand their skirts, which
.'died like balloons, squeezing on their hats
ith the other, and only letting go to recover
e breviary slipping from under their arms,
Sing their faces, pressing them upon their
easts, and leaping forward to cleave the
Irth wind with red ears and eyes blinded with
«rs, hanging on desperately the while to
'nbrellas which surged above their heads
ijfeateuing to carry them away and shaking
tern all over."

%x is his grossness less marked than
fjinerly. It follows him into his descrip-
t|n of the cathedral, and while he twice
gas out of his way to ment on that a

prudish sacristan has decorated a statue of
the infant Jesus with a paper apron, he
dwells upon certain peculiarities of the
furniture of the choir boys' dormitory not
generally noticed. Yet this is nothing com-
pared to the morbid delight which he feels
in recalling loathsome images. As Wouver-
mans is said never to have painted a picture
without introducing a man or an animal in
some of the ignoble situations imposed upon
us by our common nature, so M. Huysmans
will make a nasty allusion if he can. He
describes the walls of the Abbe Plomb's
lodging as ' ' suffering from the cutaneous
disease of plaster gnawed with leprosy and
damasked with pustules " ; while he con-
cludes his description of literary circles with
this far-fetched simile :

" Yes ! Imitating the homoeopathic pharma-
copoeia which still makes use of horrible sub-
stances, the juice of woodlice, the poison of
snakes, the pressings of cockchafers, the secre-
tion of polecats, and the pus of small-pox, all
coated with sugar of milk to conceal the smell
and appearance, the world of letters, also,
grinds down the most disgusting matters in the
hope of getting them absorbed without retch-
ing. It is one incessant manipulation of
neighbourly jealousies and the cackle of porters'
lodges, the whole made into a globule with a
treacherous coating of good manners to hide its
odour and taste."

He even mentions a bad chromolithograph
of the Sacred Heart, in which "Christ
shows with an amiable air a heart badly
cooked, bleeding into streams of yellow
sauce."

Even these errors of taste, however, are
venial compared with the manner in which
M. Huysmans has succumbed in his latest
book to his school's besetting sin, which is
affectation. In him this takes the form of
an eager search after the recondite and the
unusual. Durtal, in the finicking spirit
proper to the successor of the effeminate
des Esseintes finds some churches so ugly
that he cannot pray in them without shut-
ting his eyes, and wearies his hearers with
passages from the lives of saints like St.
Lydwine of Schiedam and Jeanne de Matel,
their great merit in his eyes being, appar-
ently, that their very names "remain un-
known to the majority of Catholics." At
other times he sweeps the libraries of scarce
books of devotion, and delights in worship-
ping at the shrines of Madonnas abandoned
by their devotees. And when M. Huys-
mans speaks in his own person he shows the
same desperate straining after originality.
His favourite poets are Baudelaire and
Verlaine, his chosen romancer Edgar Allen
Poe, and above all English artists he sets
Hogarth and Eowlandson. In each case
his choice seems to be largely due to the
unpoptdarity or neglect of his favourite, and
when he notices a living artist like
"Wisthler" — it is thus that he inverts the
letters of the immortal name — he thinks
that he has bestowed the highest praise
upon him by saying that his pictures remind
him of opium dreams. That this is a
studied affectation more than any unnatural
perversion of taste is shown clearly enough
by the extraordinary vocabulary which he
has lately adopted, of which the main
feature is its substitution of out-of-the-way
technical terms for those in common use.

Thus for " in this fashion " he uses the
words en ce gaharit, the last being the word
used by shipbuilders for the models or
patterns used in their trade ; he speaks of
the character of a penitent moulded by his
director as being malaxi, a word used by
chemists for the rolling of a piU ; and he
cannot speak of anything being put on one
side, save as mise au rencart, a provincialism
the derivation of which is unknown. His
stock of ordinary technical words increases
with each new book that he writes ; and to
the medical terms of lA-Bas and the cloister
phrase of En-Route, he has now added the
language of architecture. Unless he returns
to common speech, it will soon be impossible
to read him without a glossary.

These, then, are the faults which compel
us to think that M. Huysmans' poptdarity
rests as yet upon no assured basis ; yet,
having said this, it would be idle to deny
that he presents some of the characteristics
of a great artist. The term is used advisedly,
for his subjective mode of treatment lends
itself to word-painting, and few can bring
before us a person or a scene more vividly
or with firmer strokes of the brush.

We have space for but one more quota-
tion. We wish we could give the long, but
not too long, description of the new bishop's
entry into Chartres, and his reception by
the old-fashioned country folk and pen-
sioners of the place, which is presented in
the vivid and grotesque manner of Hogarth's
"March of the Guards thro' Finchley."
Let us take instead the scene where Durtal
sees the dawn break over the cathedral, the
great spear-shaped windows, with their
central group of the black St. Anne sur-
rounded by Jewish kings, appearing in the
dim light like hiltless swords.

" And, when he looked to right and left, he
saw, at immense heights on each side, a gigantic
trophy hung on the walls of darkness and com-
posed of a colossal shield covered with dents
above five large swords without g^iards or hilts,
with blades damascened in vague tracery and
confused mello-work.

Gradually the groping wintry sun pierced
through the mist, which became bluer and more
vaporous ; and first, the trophy hung on Durtal's
left towards the north awoke to life. Bed
embers and spirituous flames took light within
the hollows of the shield, while beneath on the
middle blade arose in the steel spear-head the
giant face of a negress clothed in a green robe
and brown mantle ; the head, wrapped in a blue
kerchief, was surrovmded by a golden aureole,
and she gazed, hieratic and shy, straight before
her with widely-opened eyes, all white.

And this sphinx-like black held on her knees
a Uttle negi'o whose eyeballs stood forth like
balls of snow from a black face.

Around her slowly the other stOl shadowy
swords grew clear, and blood trickled from their
points reddened as with recent slaughter. And
these purple streams disclosed the outlines of
beings from the banks of some distant Ganges,
on the one side a king playing on a harp of
gold, and on the other a monarch raising a
sceptre ending in the turquoise petals of a
strange lily. . . ."

This is excellent work. It has lost much
by translation, but in the original M.
Huysmans' picture of the cathedral stands
out with the force and delicacy of a nocturne
by his friend Mr. Whistler.

198

THE ACADEMY.

[Fbb. 19, 1898.

HEEOES— ANCIENT AND MODEEN.

I. The Cid Campeador. By H. Butler
Clarke. II. Robert E. Lee. By Henry
A. White. " Heroes of the Nations "
Series. (G. P. Putnam's Sons.)

" Cid" is supposed to be a Spanish corrup-
tion of the Arabic Sidy, " My Lord," though
this is uncertain ; and it is thought that the
famous Spanish hero did not bear the
tiile during his lifetime, though this
again is uncertain. " Campeador " (meaning
"Champion") was undoubtedly bestowed
on him during his lifetime, on account of his
numerous single combats. He is the Arthur
of Spain; somewhat more historical than
the British king, but, nevertheless, owing
his conspicuous name to an accumulation of
legends and ballads. What is historically
certain about him is that he was the son of
Diego Laynez, Lord of Bivar, a man of dis-
tinguished ancestry on both sides ; and the
Cid's own name was Eodrigo (by contrac-
tion Euy) Diaz de Bivar. He was the
renowned favourite of King Sancho of
CastUle and Leon ; but on the accession of
Sancho's brother Alfonso he soon fell into
disgrace, and was banished. Prom that
time he lived a lawless and predatory life,
sometimes temporarily reconciled with the
king, then again at enmity with him ; and
as the crowning achievement of his life he
conquered the Moorish city of Valencia, so
securing for himself a principality, only to
die in no long time after. With his death
his principality collapsed.

This story is told with great clearness and
discrimination by Mr. Clarke, who is wise
enough not to exclude the chivalrous and |
poetic legends, while at the same time he
distinguishes between them and the more or
less authoritative records. Inevitably it is a
picturesque, an interesting book. The epic '
wealth of tradition clustering round the
name of the Cid would alone make it so ;
and the genuine history, if smaller in
quantity, is no less picturesque than the
legend. It is in the character of the hero
that the difference lies between the two
sources of narrative. The Cid of legend is
the perfect knight of Spanish conception;
who may exhibit some doubtful behaviour
according to our modem ideas, may cheat a
Jew or display questionable principle, but
still is spotlessly faithful to the medisoval
Spanish idea of what a hero should be.
Brave, loyal, courteous, religious, animated
by the loftiest conceptions — such is the Cid
of tradition; but the Euy Diaz of history
is a sorry kind of hero. That disposition to
glorify the outlaw which has g^ven us the
Eobin Hood and Eob Eoy of romance is
responsible for the ballads of the Cid. In
cold fact, from the time of his first banish-
ment he was nothing better than a great
leader of Free Companions — for the thing
existed then, though the name was of later
invention. He fought for Moor against
Christian, or Christian against Moor, just as
it advantaged him in money or interest.
He was cr^ty, perfidious — a Spanish Odys-
seus: grasping, cruel, able, daring, and
successful. His religion sat very easily on
him, and he was addicted to heathen
auspices by means of birds' entrails and

such like folly. An interesting book, a
debatable hero.

By his side. General Eobert Lee " sticks
fiery off," indeed. What Spain fondly con-
ceited Euy Diaz to have been the plain
authentic American general was, and a
much greater leader into the bargain.
Gallant, brilliant, pious, upright, unselfish,
indomitable, Lee was a true hero, of whom
America — North and South — and modem
times may be proud. It is a brave and
stirring story which Dr. White had to tell ;
and he has told it directly, vigorously, if
occasionally with somewhat cheap colour of
diction. He has erred only where all but a
few military historians err : he fails to
preface his detailed account of operations
by a clear synopsis of the general strategical
or tactical plan; wherefore his detail of
campaigns or battles, accurate and sufficient
in itself, becomes a painful tangle to the
civilian reader. In just this perspicuous
preliminary resumi, reinforced by after
summing-up, the much-abused Alison is
strong, and Carlyle, in his F^iedrich, ad-
mirable.

Lee, surely, ranks high in the second
order of generals. During four consecutive
years, always against much superior num-
bers, he led an army which practically, it
may be said, was not reinforced ; which
dwindled steadily, while all his enemies'
losses were replenished by copious and
incessantly renewed levies ; yet he
was never beaten in person, and only
once (in the bloody Battle of Gettysburg)
repulsed, until the final day when Grant
broke through lines wasted by a year of
terrible struggle and famine before Eich-
mond. Twice he hurled back superior
Northern armies from the Confederate
States, and (in all probability) was only
prevented by the timorous defensive policy
of Jefferson Davis (who would not concen-
trate, who would try to defend a long line of
States at all points) from closing the war by
an advance on Washington.

Most glorious of all his exploits is his
final tragic campaign against Grant : the
enemy, immensely superior in numbers,
drawing inexhaustible supplies, while his
own war-worn and famine-worn army,
wanting shoes, supplies, everything except
inextinguishable valour, melted with every
battle. It is worthy to rank with such
historic struggles as those of Hannibal
in Bruttium and Napoleon on the plains
of Chamj)agne ; and, like them, it shows
that the god of battles is with the big
battalions. Alexander scattered Persians
by myriads, Clive Bengalese by thousands
with a little army ; but they were Persians,
they were Bengalese. Napoleon beat the
Austrians in Italy, though they were much
superior ; but the Austrians divided their
forces, and they were not overwhelmingly
superior. Hannibal standing at bay, leonine,
in Bruttium, Napoleon standing at bay,
panther-like, in Champagne, the French
standing at bay against swarming China
at Langson, found that masses must
win, if they were led with mediocre
capacity, against a handful led with superb
capacity.

Lee was not a Hannibal or a Napoleon,
but he was incomparably the most brilliant

general that America has produced. It breaks
one's heart that he should have been finally
conquered by brute numbers and brute Grant.
Grant has been astonishingly over-rated.
He would have been ignominiously beaten
in war against a Germany and a Moltke.

That last heroic campaign of Lee
can be told in a few words. Grant
made a flanking march for Eichmond.
Lee attacked his flank, but the slow-
ness of Longstreet prevented his in-
flicting on Grant utter rout. Though he
destroyed the Northern General's army by
thousands, he found the game too bloody
for his own limited numbers, while Grant
could lose any quantity of men, and relied
on that fact alone for winning. Then he
marched parallel with Grant, threw himself
in front of him, and beat him back with
frightful loss. Grant renewed his flank
march ; once more the two armies marched
parallel, until Lee again threw himself in
front, and again repulsed Grant with
terrible slaughter. So it went on until
the two armies reached Eichmond. Grant
always attacked along the whole Une,
ignoring or ignorant of all tactics, and
always dashed his insensate head against
an invincible wall. Eichmond reached, Lee
took up a permanent position in front of it ;
and Grant continued his dense-headed bull-
rushes, without plan or knowledge, until
his men were utterly cowed by the useless
slaughter, and were beaten before they
went into battle.

It was the very negation, the obstinate,
ignorant refusal of all military art : and
if Lee could have had reinforcements, or
if there had been less inexhaustible
resources of men beliind Grant, the
Northern General must have been driven
to a deserved retreat. But no help came
to Lee ; and at last even Grant sulkily
gave up direct attack, fortified himself, and
turned the campaign into a siege, with
formal approach by mines and trenches.
He had lost sixty-five thousand men in the
campaign, and had been beaten in every
battle. But fifty-five thousand fresh troops
joined him, while the doomed Lee received
not a single man. Starvation set in among
the Southerners ; whUe, though every
engagement was a victory, every engage-
ment thinned their numbers, and the deadly
losses they inflicted on the enemy mattered
nothing to him with his endless supplies.
Yet, even so, for eight months Lee held
invincibly the lines in front of Eichmond,
with his famine-stricken and heroic skeleton
of an army, hurling back every advance of
the foe. At last the fated Southern force
grew too thin to defend its extended lines.
The Northerners broke through, and Lee,
like Osman Pasha at Plevna, was overtaken
and surrounded in his retreat. At Appo-
matox Court-House he gave up his sword ;
having lost a campaign more gloriously
than most generals win one. No reader,
when he reaches this conclusion of the
Southern General's brilliant career, but
must take off his hat to Eobert Lee. He
waa never beaten till the game was over.
And that is the spirit which Englishmen for
ever love and honour.

Feb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

199

ME. JUSTIN McCAETHY'S "GLAD-
STONE."

The Story of Gladstone's Life. By Justin
McCarthy. (A. & C. Black.)

If Mr. Justin McCarthy has plenty of
good anecdotal matter about Mr. Gladstone,
he has not put it into this book. That
is what readers expect to get in a "story"
which does not profess to be serious bio-
graphj', still less to be history. But they
will not get even so much as that from Mr.
McCarthy. He does not give them even
his-story. So close and shrewd an observer
cannot have sat in the same building,
whether in the Reporters' Gallery or on the
floor of the House, for an indefinite number
of years, without forming his own im-
pressions, a little varying, one supposes,
from the purely conventional ones ; and
particularly in the case of a statesman with
whom he had, as leader of the Irish Party
at a crisis of its history, relations of a
peculiarly sensitive kind. Of all this there
is no hint. This pleasant enough piece of
book-making begins by disclaimers of its
author's "special knowledge," or of his
recourse to "correspondence or documents
which are not accessible to every student of
political history." Even accessible docu-
ments Mr. McCarthy does not seem to have
taken in all cases the trouble to set forth in
his narrative, which has amazing gaps.
Very scanty and partial, for instance, is the
chapter recording that exceptionally import-
ant transition period when Mr. Gladstone first
found himself in a Liberal administration.
That was a time when, according to legend,
some young bloods of the Carlton proposed
in jest what Mr. McCarthy records in deadly
earnest — to throw the seceder out of the
window. The record of an after-dinner
escapade seems out of place, any way, in
pages that suggest the flavours of the
afternoon tea-table rather than those of a
more strenuous feast. Frankly, the figure
is that of a bread-and-butter Gladstone.
Mr. George EusseU, also a eulogist and also a
personal friend, has produced a biography of
his former leader which, page by page, covers
almost the same ground as Mr. McCarthy's ;
yet it has faced more successfully the diffi-
culties of the position, and achieves through-
out a virility of tone and treatment, difficult
enough under the conditions, and absent, it
must be owned, from the volume of Mr.
McCarthy. As he had to do what six other
hands had done before him, and had, there-
fore, to avoid the six most obvious ways of
Bxpressing rather common facts in rather
3ommon English, his task was not a par-
ticularly exhilarating one.

After making all allowances, the book is a
lisappointment. Not merely is the picture
)f Mr. Gladstone a chromolithographic affair
^-here we had some right to expect the hand
)f an artist, but the casual sketches of
ontemporaries, who happened to be Mr.
Hadstone's opponents or rivals, are defaced
ut of aU candid recognition. Disraeli is the
Id sinister bogey-man of ancient history in
aberal journals; one thought that that
gure, as imreal as a Guy Fawkes dummy
straw, had long ago been "flung to
mbo," to use Disraeli's phrase about his

own "lyre." The statement about Dis-
raeli's ignorance of the classics, and
his incapacity to speak French, needs
a good deal of revision. So, we are
sure he will agree on second thoughts,
does his attribution of vulgar motives
of personal ambition to Disraeli, who,
we are again assured, "began life as
a Eadical." Of course, he did nothing of
the kind. To show his contempt for both
parties, he had an election committee con-
sisting of six Tories and six Eadicals ; and
had he finally found it convenient to use the
Liberal rather than the Tory organisation
to forward his views he could have been
accused of " beginning life as a Tory" with
a quite equal plausibHity. Eobert Lowe —
for the mere literary form of whose speeches,
if for nothing else, a literary man might
have allowed a line of recognition —
makes as iU a figure as Disraeli under Mr.
McCarthy's pen. The statement that " he
had a contempt for the poor generally " is
made twice within a few pages — " a perfect
contempt " is the variant of the first phrase.
The statement is as utterly without warrant
as is another, that ' ' the idea of a man being
allowed to vote at an election who could not
read Greek and Latin was revolting to his
soul." A more preposterous statement was
never made ; and it is worth while to recall
the odium Mr. Lowe incurred among pedants
for his advocacy of a commercial rather than
a classical education for the sons of the
middle classes. These are but specimen
blots, where no new lights are found by
way of atonement. A writer of fiction
becomes enamoured of his hero — all the
other characters must be subordinates and
foils. Mr. McCarthy has shown himself to
be on this occasion a novelist first and a
biographer afterwards. The political novel
has its great defects and its great uses ; but
there seems nothing to say in favour of
the political novel-biography, of which Mr.
McCarthy has furnished lis a perfect speci-
men.

CEAZY AEITHMETIC.

The Canon : an Exposition of the Pagan Mystery
perpetuated in the Cabala, With a Preface
by E. B. Cunninghame Grahame. (Elkin
Mathews.)

Peobably the very silliest book published
last year. Most people have heard of the
Cabala {Anglice, tradition), by which certain
Jews, taking advantage of the fact that
the Hebrew alphabet was used to denote
numbers as well as letters, sought to extract
a hidden meaning from the words of Scrip-
ture by substituting for them others having
the same numerical value. It is on this
principle that the Apocaljrpse of St. John
alludes to Nero under cover of the number
666, that being the numerical value of the
persecuting emperor's style and title, and I
other instances could be quoted from the
Epistle of Barnabas and other early Christian ;
writings. But the author of The Canon not '
only applies this to the Greek alphabet— I
which, indeed, lends itself quite aa well to
this sort of mystification as the Hebrew — '
but allows himself several liberties which

would enable him to prove that nearly every
word in any language means all the others.
Without offering the slightest excuse for so
doing, he assumes that " colel " or one can
be added or subtracted at will, and when
the word in question is a compound one, he
idds or subtracts as many " colels " as the
word has component parts. If he then fails
to get a word of the meaning he wants, he
mis-spells it, or imagines a square of which
the number he is dealing with is the root,
or a circle of which it is the diameter, or a
" vesica " (or figure enclosed by the segments
of two circles) of which it is the perimeter,
or in some other way alters the rules of the
game until he gets at the required result.
The following is a specimen : " The circle
assigned to Saturn has a diameter of 1,120,
which is the height of a rood cross which
crucifies a man contained in a square having
a perimeter equal to the side of the Holy
Oblation " mentioned in Ezekiel. Perhaps
it has ; but we do not see the importance of
the statement.

To this nonsense, Mr. Cunninghame
Grahame contributes a very amusing pre-
face, wherein he tells us that

" a rich barbarian, pale and dyspeptic, florid
or flatulent, seated in a machine luxuriously
upholstered and well heated, and yet the
traveller's mind a blank, or only occupied with
schemes to cheat his fellows and advance him-
self, is, in the abstract, no advance upon a
citizen of Athens, in the time of Pericles, who
never travelled faster than a bullock cart would
take him in all his life."

But why not ? The rich barbarian of Mr.
Grahame's breathless sentence can certainly
visit more places, and thus make his in-
fluence the more felt whether for good or
evil. For the rest, how could the descend-
ants of Pericles have escaped the Turks had
they been restricted to the pace of the
ancestral bullock cart ?

BRIEFER MENTION.

A Year from a Correspondent's Note-Book.
By Eichard Harding Davis. (Harper.)

HAVING read Mr. Eichard Harding
Davis's Soldiers of Fortune we are
quite ready to welcome anything else he may
choose to write, even when the book he
presents to us is nothing more than a reprint
of articles he has contributed to various
newspapers and magazines. For Mr. Davis
is no ordinary journalist. He is an observer
with a marvellously keen nose for trifles, a
literary man who can use a trifle to light
up a whole subject. Coming to view the
Jubilee celebrations of last year he found
that "the smell of soft coal, which is
perhaps the first and most destinctive feature
of London to greet the arriving American,
was changed to that of green pine, so that
the town smelt like a Western mining
camp." Moreover, into the year which his
notebook covers, Mr. Davis crammed all
manner of interesting experiences. He
witnessed the coronation of the Tsar, having
the luck to gain admittance to the Cathedral
of the Assumption, he was at Budapest
for the millennial celebration, he visited

200

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 19, 1898.

Cuba during the rebellion, he followed the
Greek army, saw the inauguration of the
American President, and struggled through
the crowds which blocked the London streets
in June. And about each he has something
fresh and vivid to say. Nothing better has
been written about the Grseco-Turkish war
than his description of the sudden hail of
Turkish bullets upon the entrenchments at
Velestinos.

" If a man had raised his arm above his head
Lis hand would have been torn off. It had
come up so suddenly that it was like two dogs
springing at each other's throats. . . . This
lasted for five minutes or less, and then the
death-grip seemed to relax ; the volleys came
brokenly, Uke a man panting for breath ; the
bullets ceased to sound with the hi<8 of escaping
steam, and rustled aimlessly by ; and from
hill-top to hiU-top the officers' whistles sounded
as though a sportsman were calling off his
dogs. The Turks withdrew into the coming
night, and the Greeks lay back, panting and
sweating, and stared open-eyed at one another
like men who had looked for a moment into
hell, and had come back to the world again."

The modest title of the book forbids us to
regard it as more than a series of disjointed
sketches. It has the inevitable defect of
its origin, in that each of these notable
events, described almost in the moment of
their happening, is regarded as the greatest
event the world has ever seen. But it is
supremely good journalism, and well worth
preserving.

Our English Minsters. By the Very Rev.
A. P. Purey-Cust, and Others. (Isbister
&Co.)

The eight authors of this handsome book
have produced a work interesting to the
veriest layman who understands nothing of
bosses, piscina, triforia, spandrels, and
other mysteries of the architectural cult.
Canon Newbolt's account of St. Paul's, with
which the volume opens, contains a lively
and feeling description of Sir Christopher
Wren's masterpiece, and also of that Old St.
Paul's which originally stood on the same site.
The historical associations are cleverly, but
briefly, emphasised, and, though one hardly
looks for exciting incidents in such an article
as this, tlie account of the painter Thorn-
hill's rescue from certain death when paint-
ing the cupola, lends a human interest
which the narrative would otherwise lack.
One slip the author has made, which
should be corrected in a later edition. He
speaks of Sir Edgar Boehm as being
" famous for the Jubilee coinage." Sir
Edgar Boehm has left behind him so many
good works that it seems a pity that his one
acknowledged failure should be here chosen
to designate him.

The account of the stately Minster of
York is dignified, if perhaps slightly stilted
in style. Among the many interesting details
of the erection of the edifice itself is given an
extract from the indenture (still extant)
with a certain John Thornton for the glazing
of the great east window. It runs as follows :
he is to

"complete it in three years, portray with
his own hands the histories, images, and other
things to be painted on the same. He is to
provide glass and lead and workmen, and re-
ceive fom- shillings per week, five pounds at the

end of each year, and, after the work is com-
pleted, ten pounds for his reward."

It was for such pay as this that men
who delighted in their art for art's sake
were content to work. Ely Cathedral,
the great Minster of the Fens, is treated
of by Canon Dickson, who gives an ex-
haustive description of the great octagonal
lantern which, in the opinion of experts,
has no equal in the world. The Very Eev.
Dean of Norwich has devoted himself to a
loving account of that fane, in which he
relates the true explanation of the curious
circular opening in the nave roof which has
puzzled so many antiquarians. St. Alban's
Abbey by Canon LiddeU, Salisbury Cathedral
by the Dean of Salisbury, Worcester Cathe-
dral by Canon Shore, and Exeter Cathedral
by Canon Edmonds, are each treated of in
the same lively and interesting manner, and,
taken as a whole, Our English Minsters is a
work which fulfils a distinct purpose. Those
who wish for long, learned, and detailed
disquisitions on styles, periods, materials,
interiors, elevations, and sections must
seek more pretentious works, but to such
as desire an admirably illustrated and
entertaining account of our great churches,
fxill of all those details most interesting to
the uninitiated. Our English Minsters should
give satisfaction.

The Trial of Lord Cochrane before Loi-d
Ellenhorough. By J. B. Atlay, M.A.
With a Preface by Edward Downes Law.
(Smith, Elder & Co.)

If an Irishman had to describe the career

of Thomas Cochrane, Tenth Earl of Dun-

donald, he might fairly say that he was only

on terra firma when at sea, for on land he

was always in hot water. His name still

lives in the annals of four navies — those of

Great Britain, Chili, Brazil, and Greece.

His maritime exploits have obliterated in

the public mind the memory of the fact that

in 1814 he was convicted of circulating a

false report of Napoleon's defeat and death,

and thereby victimising the Stock Exchange.

But his family have not forgotten it, and

have made frequent efforts to cleanse his

reputation of this stain. Unhappily their

way of white-washing Lord Cochrane has

been to blacken Lord Ellenhorough, the

Lord Chief Justice who tried him. They

accuse him of having conducted the trial

so that the defence did not have a fair

chance, and of having misdirected the jury.

Naturally the Ellenhorough family could not

stand this. Commander Law, grandson of

the Lord Chief Justice, collected a mass of

rebutting evidence, and handed it over to

Mr. Atlay, who has reduced it to fairly

reasonable limits in this volume of 500

pages. By any unprejudiced reader, we

think, Mr. Atlay will be held to have made

out his case, and we would fain hope that

this view will commend itself to the other

side. The spectacle of two noble families

pelting one another with controversial tomes

is one that if carried much further will

provoke laughter rather than interest.

Th« People for whom Shakespeare Wrote. By
Charles Dudley Warner. (Harper's.)

Me. Warner writes in a pleasant and
gossipping fashion of Elizabethan society

and manners ; you may learn from his
pages how Shakespeare's contemporaries
dressed, dined, drank, and amused them-
selves ; what were their expenses, and
what strangers, from Erasmus downwards,
thought of them. There is no g^eat learn-
ing in the book : Harrison's Description of
England and Eye's Foreigners in England
provide two-thirds of the material. Mr.
Warner persistently writes the family name
of the Earls of Essex as " Devereaux " : he
speaks of Shakespeare's brother " Charles,"
although he had not one ; puts " Paris
Gardens " for " Paris Garden," and the
"Fashion" for the "Fortune" Theatre.
Misprints, perhaps, but very slovenly. The
most interesting thing in the book is a
description of a county squire from Gilpin's
Forest Scettery, new to us :

" His great hall was commonly strewn with
marrow-bones, and full of hawks' -perches, of
hounds, spaniels, and terriers. His oyster-table
stood at one end of the room and oysters he ate
at dinner and supper. At the upper end of the
room stood a email table with a double desk,
one side of which held a church Bible, the
other Fox's Book of Martyrs. He drank a
glass or two of wine at his meals, put syrup of
gilly-flower in his sack, and always had a
tun-glass of small beer standing by him, which
he often stirred about with rosemary. After
dinner, with a glass of ale by his side, he
improved his mind by listening to the reading
of a choice passage out of the Book of Martyrs."

These books accumulate. Mr. Fairman
Ordish did one last June, Mr. W. J. Eolfe
last October. Mr. Warner's is probably the
least well-informed, but it is the best
written of the three.

Cateshy : a Tragedy. (Billing : Guildford.)

This venture is inspired, we suppose,
by a recent controversy. The drama is
Elizabethan, in prose and blank verse. To
say that the anonymous author has not
fathomed the mysteries of blank verse would
be mild : he has not even grasped its normal
rhythm. The historical introduction and
notes show considerable research ; which
might have been utilised in a biography
of Catesby. It is a pity how some people
mistake their vocations.

The Ancient Use of Greek Accents. By G. T.
Carruthers. (Bradbury, Agnew & Co.)

This is a curious and interesting little tract.
In the first part Mr. Carruthers discusses the
nature and meaning of the Greek accents,
which we probably owe to the grammarians
of Alexandria. Many think that their chief
object is to complicate examinations; but
Mr. Carruthers thinks that they really afford
a guide to the pronunciation of Greek words.
He gets over the difficulties in the way of
this theory by supposing that in the case
of the acute accent the stress was intended
to be put not on the syllable which bore the
accent, but on the following syllable. The
accent was thus of the nature of a pre-
liminary signal. The suggestion is ingenious,
and deserves consideration. In the second
part of the treatise Mr. Carruthers attempts,
by means of this theory, to throw some fight
upon the difficult subject of Greek music.
He gives some interesting transcripts of
Greek melodies into modem notation.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.

A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEE8.

EiBSTONE Pippins. By Maxwell Gray.

A rustic idyll by the author of The Silence of Bean Maitland. The
scene is the West of England, and the hero is a carter with large
hazel eyes that shine with spiritual light. The people talk thus :
" I mane the little chap wi' nar a mossel o' cloase, onny a pair o'
goose-wings, and a bowanarrow in valentine pictures. They caas
en Keewpid, and a shoots vokes' hearts droo and droo." The
beginning of the book is chromolithographic and the end sad.
All droo 'tis zentimental. (Harper and Brothers. 148 pp.
38. 6d.)

Miss Betty.

By Bram Stoker.

A pleasant love-story of Queen Anne and early Georgian days.
The London life of the period is recalled, and there is a capital
description of the race on the Thames for Doggett's Coat and Badge,
in days when that function included a turnout of the royal boats
manned by the King's watermen. A visit to Don Saltero's museum
at Chelsea delights Betty, who, however, soon has more personal
matters to attend to. As a desperate means to get money her lover
takes to the road. How Betty saves him from perdition is the theme
of this gallant tale. (C. Arthur Pearson, Ltd. 202 pp. 2s. 6d.)

Poor Max.

The author of A Yellow Aster

By "Iota.'

here studies a modern marriage.
On the one side is Judith, an Irish girl, frank and impulsive and a
passionate fighter for truth ; on the other Max, a reckless, joyous
young author, with the artistic temperament. Gradually they
drift apart, and another man fills Judith's thoughts, and Max
blunders merrily along, never just and always generous, until his
death, which comes of too nobly caring for a sick friend. A power-
ful book of deep interest. (Hutchinson & Co. 362 pp. 68.)

Plain Living.

By Eolf Boldkewood.

The plot of Eolf Boldrewood's latest story suggests that of the
Vicar of Wakefield, inverted and transplanted to Australia. A
squatter, who has long had a hard fight to make his "station"
pay, suddenly comes in for a huge fortune. His delight is accom-
panied by a fear that his wealth may sap the strength of his
children, and perhaps soil their innocence ; and he therefore
1 conceals his altered circumstances. The station begins mysteriously
I to pay, repairs are carried out, the live-stock increase beyond
I all experience, and love matches are made. Only in the fulness
[of time does this strong-minded squatter reveal himself to his
Ifamily as a Croesus. A hearty story, deriving charm from the
iodours of the bush, and the bleating of incalculable sheep.
i(Macmillan & Co. 316 pp. 68.)

The Spirit is "Willing. By Peroival Pickering.

In this story of misplaced afEections and unhappy marriages the
characters confide their troubles with improbable freedom to im-
probable sympathisers, while Aunt Letitia, a prim, sharp-eyed old
naid, holds a brief for her chivalrous but weak nephew, Daniel
lardwick. The action takes place on an undefined stretch of sea-
oast, and the sea moans between the lines. (Bliss, Sands & Co.
19 pp. 68.)

'he Broom or the War-God. By H. N. Brailsford.

A romance of the Gtreek and Turkish war just ended. But not a
urried effort thrown off to attract the interest of the moment;
n the contrary, a piece of patient work. Mr. Brailsford brings
igether half a dozen picturesque adventurers — a saturnine Scotch-
lan, an Englishman or two — Cockney and otherwise, a German,
tid free-lances of other nations. The Crown Prince also figures,
iid there is fighting. (W. Heinemann. 276 pp. 6s.)

The General's Double. By Captain Charles King, U.S.A.

A story of the American Civil War, dramatic and moving, and
more or less certain to find its way to the stage. (Lippincott.
446 pp. 6s.)

The Spanish Wine. By Frank Mathew.

A grim and gloomy romance of intrigue. Old Ireland is the
background, and through the dusky pages flit lord and lady, lover
and mistress, monk and dwarf, and other mysterious characters.
Much of the story is retrospective, and all is vague and Gothic and
eerie. (John Lane. 180 pp. 3s. 6d.)

Dead Men's Tales. By Charles Junoh.

In form, a yellow-back, with a picture on the cover representing
a stockman finding two skeletons in the Bush. In character, a
collection of those stories which Australia produces with remarkable
ease, and the Sydney Bulletin is pleased to print. The author
writes an introduction to show that certain of his yams are founded
on fact and to lay down the rules of the short story. He offers
also criticism of some contemporary novelists. It is not acute.
(Sonnenschein. 269 pp. 2s.)

Tales of the Klondyke.

By T. Mullett Ellis.

The narrator of these episodes in the Klondyke diggings
declares that he was a pure Cockney before he went out West. He
tells how he and Dave Smith " diskivered " gold, and how he
starved, and loved, and was raided by Indians ; and his language
throughout is a blend of ultra-Cockney and ultra-^Y ankee : "My
ears got frorst-bit, so I 'ad to be careful arterwards. It was jis'
a caution to me. I wrapped wal up fer the res' o' the winter —
you can pawn your shirt on that ! " (Bliss, Sands & Co. 164 pp.)

Murray Murgatroyd, Journalist. By Charles Morier.

Murgatroyd's grasp of politics in the Pioneer is noted by Sir
Eichard Hanley, who sends for him and entrusts him with the
task of obtaining for the Government certain documents relating to
the Transalpian difiiculty. These are in the possession of a wealthy
Mr. MuUer, who keeps them in his bedroom in a remote Devonshire
village. Meanwhile, Sir Eichard's daughter has been robbed of
her watch in St. James's Park. Murgatroyd undertakes to find the
documents and the watch. This story of his quest, and its rewards,
is cleverly written. (Laurence & Bullen. 152 pp. Is.)

A Storm-Eent Sky.

By M. Betham-Edwards.

The French Eevolution as it affected humble village life in the
Champagne district is the theme of this series of episodes. The
story attains its climax in Paris at the execution of Danton.
(Hurst & Blackett. 354 pp. 6s.)

REVIEWS.

The Fourth Napoleon : a Romance. By Charles Benham.
(W. Heinemann.)

Mr. Benham calls his story a romance, and the name fits. It is
the tale of a new Buonapartist revolution in France, and the dis-
covery of the lost Fourth Napoleon in a briefless barrister, formerly
of Pimlico. We have no wish to reveal the highly original design ;
suffice it to say that the Emperor, when found, is an incapable
dreamer, who passes from incapacity to infamy, till the farce plays
itself out, and the poor puppet dies a coward's death, with his fine
palace of cards tumbled about his ears. We may as well point out
at once what seem to us the few blemishes in the work. It_ is
immoderately long, and the stage ia perhaps overcrowded with

202

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Feb. 19, 18a8.

figures. Now, however careful the work, too great a length and
too bewildering a company are apt to spoil any fictional effect. The
emotional capacity of a climax is not so keenly felt when it is led up
to through a maze of subtle half -portraits. The scheme, we repeat,
seems to us brilliantly carried out; our only objection is that such
a scheme is in some ways beyond fiction. Again, it is possible that
the author uses his right to the fantastic almost to the verge of
caricature. A slight tendency to overdo the Thackerayan method
now and then perplexes the reader by casting a glamour of comedy
over the tragic.

But the merits of the book are so real that one forgets little
failures. The picture of the incapable, ambitious sentimentalist,
attitudinising in his shabby London lodgings, attitudinising on
the throne, and sinking into flabby senility, while still in his own
eyes a hero, is far more than a successfid piece of portraiture. It
is a profound and moving allegory of life. When the monarch
falls it is not the mere Walter Sadler who dies, but a part of all of
us, which we acknowledge with terror. Surely to have produced
such an effect is a high triumph of art. The other people — the
girl Muriel, the Framlinghams, Brisson, de Morin, Carache — are all
drawn with uncommon subtlety and vigour. Even when the author
gives full vein to his freakishness, and riots in such oddities as
Prince Felix and the Honourable Charles, there is a gift of epigram
which covers much shrewd insight. Mr. Benham follows great
models. He has learned much from Thackeray, and there is a
strong hint of Balzac in the half -ironical swiftness of change from
scene to scene, whUe the sinking character is the one thing that
never varies. We have re-read the book with care and find no
reason to modify our first opinion. It is a fine piece of work
with enough wit and style and knowledge of fife to set up
half a dozen ordinary novels. Probably it is the author's first
book, in which case it is one of the best first books we have read
for a long time. Whether or not it will please the popular mind
we cannot say. In an age when the world runs after sloppy
domestic idylls, swashbuckling romances, and hysterical psychology,
it may pass by the work of a man of intellect.

David LyalPs Love- Story. By the Author of The Land of the Leal.
(Hodder & Stoughtou.)

Mr. Barbie's literary mantle should be a voluminous one, judging
by the number of Scots writer bodies whose deficiencies it must
needs cover. In Sentimental Tommy, for the greater piquancy of
the thing, Mr. Barrie brought his Scots to London, and to the
author of David LyalVs Love- Story the same expedient has occurred.
You would think that the London Scottish had their own quarter
of the city, like any Jews of old their Ghetto, for whenever a new
character is introduced — which is, at least, once in every chapter —
straightway a " Hoots ! mon " or a " Hech ! laddie" bewrays his
nationality. So, if you like undiluted Scots, and therewith an all-
pervading optimism of vision, you will find David LyalVs Love- Story
a readable thing : it is pleasantly and sympathetically told. But
if you dislike the dialect, and rebel against optimism, leave it alone.
The structure of the book is episodic ; two or three characters
hold it together, but essentially a distinct episode or adventure
constitutes each chapter. The central hero is David LyaU, a young
journalist — Scots— who would venture his pen in London. ' He falls
on his feet and joins the staff of a flourishing daily — with a Scots
editor. To these come many other Scots in need of helping hands
or brains, and none goes empty away. Thus in the chapter called
" Stranded " you have the sad fate of a Scotch artist reduced to
" screeving." David finds him at it :

"I did not see him anywhere, but observing a little throng of people
on the other side I crossed over, and saw that they were taken up bv a
lot of pictures done in coloured chalks on the pavement of the street
It was something I had never seen or heard tell of, and I pressed
forward to take them all in. Then a kind of ' dwam,' as my grand-
father would have expressed it, came over me, for every one of the
little landscapes, sharply outlined from each other, was a bit from
Faulds. There was the auld brig with the burn below, fringed with
the birks of Inneshall. And the village street, with Bawbie Windrum's
shop wmdow, and Peter Mitchell, the starling, in his cage at the door
And last in the row was my own home, The Byres, with the courtyard
and the old draw-well faithful to the life. Up against the railings stood
the forlorn and shabby artist, out at elbows, down at heels, with his

greasy hat drawn down over his brows, and a curious bitter smile on his
mouth. One or two tossed a copper on the pavement ere they passed on,
but he did not stoop to pick them up. Then I pressed through the
throng and took him by the arm."

Needless to say, the " screever " is recovered from the pave-
ment by the good David, to die in the odour of Scots sentimentality.
We confess that we should like David and his editor better if they
had one or two of those redeeming faults which joumali.sts and
even editors — other than Scots ones — do occasionally display. The
"love-story," by the way, hangs about in the background while
the crusedes are going on, but ends happily at last.

The Cedar Star. By Mary E. Mann.
(Hutchinson & Co.)

Mrs. Mann's new story is a clever study of wilful girlhood. In
Betty, her heroine, she sets down a type not uncommon to-day:
the spoilt, capricious child, so encouraged in her youth as to become
selfish beyond aU bounds, yet at heart capable of much that is
good. We will not say anything of the plot, except this, that it
shows how Betty progressed through suffering to self-repression
and a more instant love of her feUow-beings. Mrs. Mann sees
with sympathetic eyes, and writes well. Here is a description of a
visit of Betty and her sister to Carleton (Billy), the curate, who is
afterwards to play so large a part in her life : —

"'We hate all women,' said Betty; 'men are nicer. I shall hate
myself when I am a woman, only I shall be of a sensible kind. I shall
never wear my petticoats longer than my calves, and I shall always
keep my hair hanging down my back.'

' Won't Betty look a darling ? ' inquired the ingratiating Jan. ' Cousin
Violet looked a darling tUl she stuck up her hair; now she's frightful.'

' Billy's in love with Violet,' said Emily, with her dove-like temerity :
' I know, because Susan told me when she put me to bed.'

' Susan's an ass,' said BUly. ' Your confounded Pauhe is creeping
down the back of my neck, Jan,' he said. He had turned very red and
cross, and no wonder, with the kitten in that position ! ' Now, be off,
all of you, and leave me in peace. I've got my sermon to write.'

'Don't do it,' advised Betty, unmovedly keeping her ground ; 'don't
preach one. Every one woidd be awfully glad. We can't go, Billy.
You asked us to tea our first holiday. We've come.'

' Tea isn't for hours.'

' Tea could be.'

' We'll wait till Caroline comes in.'

' No, no. We don't want Caroline. Only you. Me to make the tea
— and only you I '

' Betty to make the tea,' said the others, ' and only BiUy ! '

Of course they had their way. What could a young man, kind as a
woman and simple as a chUd, do against the tyranny of the imperious
woman-child and her satellites ? "

There are stressful passages in the book which are handled with
considerable power ; but we prefer here to illustrate Mrs. Mann's
lighter manner. The story is well worth reading.

A Man with a Maid. By Mrs. Henry E. Dudeney.
(Heinemann.)

This is a story with an entirely conventional plot. Tabbie, a
milliner's apprentice, meets Tom Prideaux, a "gentleman," by the
bandstand on Brighton pier. Tom faUs in love with lier — as a
" gentleman " falls in love with a shop-girl ; Tabbie, being an
extremely simple girl, and very fond of Tom, goes up to see him
at his rooms in the Temple — and stays with him for three weeks.
Tom has no notion of marrying Tabbie, for it is understood that be
is to marry his cousin Constance's money. And circumstances
point to the propriety of Tabbie's union with John Starkey, a
prosperous young butcher. But just as Tom has married Constance,
and Tabbie is about to maiTy the butcher, Tabbie's sin iinds her
out ; and the story comes to the only possible conclusion.
Hundreds of stories have been written around this plot ; hundreds
more wUl be written. That, however, does not detract from
the undoubted merits of this tale. The oldest plot is new enough
if the actors are real ; and Mrs. Dudeney's picture of the
Maielli dressmaking establishment at Brighton is enough of
itself to make her book worth reading. Mrs. Day, the forewoman ;
"Mad Joel," the little Jewess; Clara Porter, the machinist;

Feb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

203

Hortense Loriot and " Cockaninny," to say nothing of Mme.
Maielli herself — all are distinct and vivid, resembling one another
only in their foolishness, their pettiness, and the love of admiration
that leads continually to moral disaster. The insipidity and
diilness, too, of the lower middle-class life in Dissenting circles,
where the chief delights are a hot Sunday dinner, an afternoon nap,
and chapel in the evening, are drawn with a remorseless attention
to detail of which Mr. George Gissing would not be ashamed. And
the writer who can persuade, as Mrs. Dudeney persuades, that
the actors are living, breathing people has small occasion to worry
over a lack of originality in the plot.

It strikes us, however, that Mrs. Dudeney would have written

an even more convincing book if she had devised it on a smaller

scale. Nothing but long and arduous practice can teach the

novelist the art of keeping a large number of characters moving

without showing the strings. Mrs. Dudeney has let into her story

more characters than she can manage, and some of them, such as

Haybittle, the wealthy colonial, and Simpson, the artist, for lack

of the attention which their creator has no time to give them, are

too obviously mere lay figures. The lay figure is a common

enough feature of the average novel ; but this is something

1 more than an average novel, and that we should notice its

1 presence here by force of contrast with the live actors is in

i itself a tribute to Mrs. Dudeney's ability. A Man with a Maid is

quite worthy of its place in the "Pioneer" series, a series which

I already contains such books as The Red Badge of Courage, A Street

in Suburbia, and Mrs. Musgrave and Iter Husband.

ANTHOLOGIES IN LITTLE.

I. — Michael Drayton.

The repute of Michael Drayton has been the sport of time : half a

lozen of his poems are on the lips of men ; the bulk of them sleep

imdisturbed in the dust. His own prolix pen is no doubt largely

;o blame. The principal attempt at a modem reprint foundered on

the terrible Harmony of the Church, to which even the scandal of

bpiscopal censure can hardly give breath of life ; and the bravest

jicholar might quaU at tackling the mazes of that versified gazetteer,

he Polyolbion, wherein, as Charles Lamb said, Drayton went over

lis native soil " with the fidelity of the herald and the painful love

>f a son." Yet even in the Polyolbion there is much excellent

■eading, fine gold in the ore for whoso has the patience to extract

|t; while from the rest of Drayton's innumerable volumes you

loight easily gather an anthology — as Mr. BuUen indeed has done,

f one can only find it — of considerable bulk and extraordinary

aerit. For Drayton was a real poet, a man of rich temper and

trenuous ardours. Adversity drove him to hack-work — the joum-

lism of verse — as it has driven so many good men to journalism

■lefore and since. It brought him even into bondage to that pawn-

jiroking tyrant of the theatre, Henslowe, who to so many of his

|>etters doled out a grudging pittance. But ever and anon the

Inconquerable spirit asserted itself, and flamed forth in splendid

ide, finely wrought sonnet, or delicate pastoral.

I Drayton sprang from those leafy Warwickshire meadows to

J'hich so much of the best Elizabethan poetry owed its debt. He

I as of middle-class folk, the thews and sinews of England — was, in

Let, the son of a butcher. He foimd wealthy patrons, among them

rince Henry, the much-wept Marcellus of the land, and the incom-

larable Lucy, Countess of Bedford, theme of so many songs that Ben

pnson well named her "the Muses' morning and their evening

ax." But Drayton seems to have been a man of independent soul,

iid apt to make patronage difficult. And he ruined his chances at

3urt by offending one greater than Henry, even James himself.

e committed the indiscretion of praising James with indecent

iste before he had remembered the formality of mourning Eliza-

)th. Therefore he was in the hands of the booksellers all his life,

id the "swarth and melancholy face" of his portraits bewray

<ie who has gone through the furnace of affliction. "My soul,"

.1 writes to Prince Henry, " hath seen the extremity of Time and

irtune."

JHe had an individuality. Beginning his poetic career as a dis-
d)le of Spenser, he succeeded in throwing off the benumbing
ijiuence, and worked his way by himself to a truer and finer
Ificism. He learnt to handle the pastoral more freely and with

truer vision than any Spenserian: he learnt to draw from the
Lyra Heroica a richer harmony than that of the " Faerie
Queene." In the shaping of that characteristically English form of
the sonnet, which culminated in Shakespeare, Drayton, too, played
his part : his "Amours " to the mistress whom he names Idea, and
whom recent scholarship has identified as Anne Goodere, served as
an indisputable model for the greater man. The crowning feature
of his work is surely its inexhaustible variety : he turns easily from
the intensity of his most famous sonnet to the exultant march of the
"Agincourt " poem or to the dainty fairy- world of the " Nymphidia."
He often forces the note ; he is often tedious, often flat and un-
inspired : but the poet is there behind it all, ready to thrill you,
when the moment comes, with unexpected melody and rare
intuition.

VALEDICnOIf.

Since there 's no help, come let us kiss and part !

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,

And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,

That thus so cleanly I myself can free !

Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,

And, when we meet at any time again,

Be it not seen in either of our brows

That we one jot of former love retain.

Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,

When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,

When Faith is kneeUng by his bed of death.

And Innocence is closing up his eyes.

Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over.

From death to life thou might'st him yet recover !

To His Coy Love.

A CANZONET.

I pray thee leave, love me no more,

CaU home the heart you gave me,
I but in vain that saint adore

That can but wUl not save me.
These poor half kisses kill me quite ;

Was ever man thus served ?
Amidst an ocean of deUght

For pleasure to be starved.

Show me no more those snowy breasts

With azure riverets branched,
Where whilst mine eye with plenty feasts.

Yet is my thirst not stanched.
O Tantalus, thy jiains ne'er tell.

By me thou art prevented ;
'Tis nothing to be plagued in Hell,

But thus in Heaven tormented.

Clip me no more in those dear arms,

Nor thy life's comfort call me ;
O these are but too powerful charms

And do but more enthral me.
But see how patient I am grown

In all this coU about thee ;
Come, nice thing, let thy heart alone ;

I cannot live without thee.

A Summer's Eve.

Clear had the day been from the dawn.

All chequered was the sky,
Thin clouds, like scarfs of cobweb lawn.

Veiled heaven's most glorious eye.

The wind had no more strength than this,

That leisurely it blew,
To make one leaf the next to kiss.

That closely by it grew.

The rills, that on the pebbles played,

Might now be heard at will ;
This world they only music made.

Else everything was still.

The flowers, like brave embroidered girls.

Looked as they most desired
To see whose head with orient pearls

Most curiously was tired.

And to itself the subtle air

Such sovereignty assumes.
That it received too large a share

From nature's rich perfumes.

204

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

LFeb. 19, 1898.

Daffodill.

tiatte. Gorbo, as thou earnest this way
By yonder little hill,
Or as thou through the fields didst stray
Saw'st thou my daffodill ?

She's in a frock of Lincoln green,
Which colour likes her fight,
And never hath her beauty seen
But through a veil of white.

Than roses richer to behold
That trim up lovers' bowers.
The pansy and the marigold,
Tho' Phoebus' paramours.

Gnrhn. Thou well describest the daffodill !
It is not full an hour
Since by the spring near yonder hill
I saw that lovely flower.

BaMe. Yet my fair flower thou didst not meet
Nor uews of her didst bring,
And yet my daffodill's more sweet
Than that by yonder spring.

Oorlo. 1 saw a shepherd that doth keep.
In yonder field of lilies.
Was making (as he fed his sheep)
A wreath of daffodillies.

Batte. Yet, Gorbo, thou deludest me still ;
My flower thou didst not see.
For, know, my pretty daffodill
Is worn of none but me.

To show itself but near her feet
No lily is so bold,
Except to shade her from the heat
Or keep her from the cold.

Oorbo. Through yonder vale as I did pass,
Descending from the hill,
I met a smirking bonny lass ;
They call her Daffodill.

Whose presence as along she went

The pretty flowers did greet

As though their heads they downward bent

With homage to her feet.

And all the shepherds that were nigh.

Prom top of every hUI

Unto the valleys loud did cry,

' There goes sweet Daffodill.'

Batte. Ay, gentle shepherd, now with joy
Thou all my flocks dost All ;
That's she alone, land shepherd boy ;
Let us to Daffodill.

CHATS WITH WALT WHITMAN.

Under this title Miss Grace Gilchrist prints in the February
number of Temple liar a series of interesting little talks with " the
good grey poet." It was in the quiet Quaker city of Philadelphia,
towards the close of the poet's life, these meetings were held.
Walt Whitman lived in the somewhat dreary and ugly suburb
of Camden, New Jersey, and he would, says Miss Gilchiist,
on many a fine afternoon cross by the five o'clock ferry to Phila-
delphia, and taking the car, reach our house in time for tea-supper.
After that was over, we would all take our chairs out, American
fashion, beside the "stoop" — that is, on to the pavement, below the
front steps of the house. The poet sat in our midst, in a large
bamboo rocking-chair, and we listened as he talked, on many sub-
jects— human and literary. Walt Whitman was at this time fifty-
eight, but ho looked seventy. His board and hair were snow-
white, his complexion a fine colour, and unwrinkled. He had still
though stricken in 1873 by paralysis, a most majestic presence. He
was over six feet, but he walked lame, dragging the left leg, and
leaning heavily on a stick. He was dressed always in a complete
suit of grey clothes with a large and spotless white linen collar, his
flowing white beard filling in the gap at his strong sunburnt throat.

The authors he talked most of were Homer, Shakespeare, Scott,
George Sand, and Bulwer Lytton ; Scott he loved even better than
Shakespeare. One quaint method of reading which he indulged in
would have driven the devout book-lover wUd. He would tear a
book to pieces — literally shed its leaves, putting the loose sheets
into the breast pocket of his coat — that he might pursue his reading
in less weighty fashion under the branches of his favourite trees
at Timber Creek. Many have averred that they never heard him
laugh — he laughed rarely, but when he did, it was a deep, hearty
melodious laugh. He laughed at very simple things- homely jests,
and episodes in daily life.

He was (juite indifferent, however, to any form of persiflage,
repartee, chaffing, or any form of " smart" talk — remaining always
perfectly grave and silent amid that kind of by-play ; or, as with
an importunate questioner, generally withdrawing himself alto-
gether from the group of talkers and finally leaving the room,
[n his large, serene, sane personality there was no room for trifling
or the display of "intellectual fireworks"; with him existed no
arriire pensie. His phraseology was direct and simple, free from
aU bookishnesB or studied g^-ace of expression. He stuck to homely
Yankee idioms, with a fair percentage of slang.

One evening in October, one of those lovely, warm, still evenings
of the American fall, the conversation turned on beauty. Walt
doubted if extreme beauty was well for a woman.

"But," queried one, "how could the Greeks have got on
without it ? "

"Now arises the almost terrific question," answered Walt: "is
there not sometliing artificial and fictitious in what we call beauty?
Should we appreciate the severe beauty of the Greeks ? The
wholesome outdoor life of the Greeks begets something so different
from ours, which is the result of books, picture galleries, and bred in
the drawing-room." The grace of the Venus of Milo is here instanced.
Another talker (a woman) suggests that her face lacks intellect.
Walt rejoined energetically, " So much the better. Intellect is
a, fiend. It is a curse that all our American boys and girls are
taught so much. There's a boy I take a great interest in ; he is
sent to a school in Camden, his people want him to be taught
shorthand and three languages ; why, it's like putting jewels on
a person before he has got shoes."

Prof. Dowden was an English admirer whose letters Wait greatly
prized. One passage in one of Prof. Dowden's essays especially
appealed to him: " I was much moved — unspeakably so, by that
quotation Dowden gives from Hugo — ' Fine genius is like a pro-
montory stretching out into the infinite.' "

He liked reading critiques on himseU. In one of these chats by
the creek, his friend asked him how he liked one which had
appeared in the Gentleman'' s Magazine for that year (1877).

" I liked it," said Walt : " I was a good deal tickled by the
title ('Walt Whitman the Poet of Joy')— the dashing off kind. I
was so pleased with it that I wrote to the office of the Gentleman's
Magazine for Clive's address, sending a portrait of myself, but
received no answer." [The real name of the author of this
appreciative article was Arthur O'Shaughnessy.]

" I sometimes wonder," he mused, " that I am not more
ostracised than I am on account of my free opinions."

"Yes," replied his friend, "we are almost completely so. In
Philadelphia the question is — What church do you go to ?"

" Good, you don't know what you escape by it. It is well to go
to church sometimes to see what people are like. For my part, I
am so out of these things, that I am quite surprised, when I go, to
find myself living in such a different world. The people round
here have been warned by the school director of my poems, and
that I am an imprc per person, and bad character for the young men
and maidens to associate with, The time of my boyhood was a
very restless and unhappy one ; I did not know what to do."

Of the late Mr. Addington Symonds, Walt spoke with very
warm regard, and of his literary admiration he was justly
proud.

" What Mr. Symonds admires in my books is the comi-adoship ;
he says that he had often felt it, and wanted to express it, but
dared not! He thinks that the Englishman has it in him, but
puts on gruffness, and is ashamed to show it."

Walt Whitman was not a full or copious letter-writer ; his
letters were, in the main, more like telegraphic despatches than
letters, the postcard being his favourite mode of written com-
munication.

Feb. 19, 1898,]

THE ACADEMY.

205

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1898.

No. 1346, New Seriet.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

rHE proposal to found a Lewis Carroll cot
at the Children's Hospital in Great
>rmond-street has been taken up by the St.
hmes's Gazette, and is supported by a strong
lommittee. A sum of a thousand pounds is
leeded, and subscriptions may be sent to
he hon. treasurer of the fund, Mr. J. T.
Mack, of the firm of Messrs. A. & C. Black,
>oho-square, or to the editor of our contem-
)orary. The following passage from Mrs.
tieynell's article on the subject, printed in
he St. James's Gazette, is much to the point :
''A whole edition of Alice in Wonderland
va& given away by that generous hand to
lie children in hospital wards many years
tgo ; and now that he is gone it is to this
lalf of his love of children that we turn for
ho inspiration of a lasting remembrance of
lim. While he lived it was most evident
hat he made the happy a little happier;
mce his death, and while his friends mourn
or him, it becomes more appropriate that
[n his name we should try the other way
imd make the suffering a little happy. We
nave not to go far in quest of suffering, and
jhe succour of the hospital is an accessible
thing beyond all price."

j One of the last things that Lewis Carroll
jrrote for children was an introduction to a
tittle story just published, by Mrs. E. G.
•Vilcox, called The Lost Plum Cake : a Tale/or
''my Boys. In this introduction Lewis Carroll
alks to parents very wisely about the dread-
ul times children have in church in sermon
jime — understanding so little, and being
obliged to sit quite still. For their relief he
hakes a startling proposal :

;" Would it be so very irreverent to let your
jhild have a story-book to read during the
>»rmon, to while away that tedious half-bour,
ind to make church-going a bright and happy
iiemory, instead of rousing tbe thought, ' I'll

never go to church no more ' ? I think not.
For my part, I should love to see the experi-
ment tried. I am quite sure it would be a
success. My advice would be to ktep some
books for that special purpose — I would call
such books ' Sunday-treats '—and your little
boy or girl would soon learn to look forward
with eager hope to that half-hour once so
tedious. If I were the preacher, dealing with
some subject too hard for the little oaes, I
should love to see them all enjoying their
picture-books. And if this little book should
ever come to be used as a ' Sunday-treat ' for
some sweet baby-reader, I don't think it could
serve a better purpose."

Of one thing we are sure: Lewis Carroll's
own books have long been the child's
antidote to sermons. If they have not been
taken to church, they have filled little minds
in sermon time with visions of delight, and
have been responsible for much stifled
laughter.

A SLIGHT collection of Lewis CarroU's
more serious verse, selected mainly from
Phantasmagoria (1869), has just been issued
by Messrs. Macmillan, under the title TItree
Sunsets, accompanied by twelve delicate and
graceful pictures by Miss E. Gertrude "Thom-
son, which have, however, small relation to
the text. Lewis Carroll's grave poems are
not of conspicuous merit. They are fluent,
lucid, and tender; they do not haunt the
caves of the mind. The " Lesson in Latin,"
reprinted from the private magazine of a
Boston school, and "Puck Lost," here
printed for the first time, are more welcome.
This is a stanza of the " Lesson " :

" Our Latin books, in motley row,
Invite us to our task —
Gay Horace, stately Cicero ;
Yet there's one verb when once we know,

No higher skill we ask :
This ranks all other lore above —
We've learned ' Amare means to love.' "
And here is " Puck Lost " :

" Puck has fled the haunts of men :
Ridicule has made him wary ;
In the woods, and down the glen,
Xo one meets a Fairy I

' Cream I ' the greedy goblin cries —

Empties the deserted dairy —
Steals the spoons, and off he flies.

Still we seek our Fairy I

Ah I What form is entering ?

Lovelit eyes and laughter airy I
Is not this a better thing,
Child, whose visit thus I sing,

Even than a Fairy J"'

A EoMAX correspondent states that the
Eternal City has now quite a little circle of
English and American literary people. Mr.
Gissing, Mr. Hall Caine, and Mr. Hornung
represent fiction ; Lord Eosebery and Mr.
Haweis, criticism; and Mr. Astor, patronage.
The principal poet is Mrs. Julia Ward Howe,
the author of the magnificent Battle Hymn
of the Republic, who is staying with her
daughter, Mrs. EUiott. Mrs. Howe, the
other day, read a paper on " Pessimism and
Optimism," which was listened to, among
others, by Bjornsterne Bjomson.

St. Andrew's University lias decided
to confer upon Mr. Barrie the honorary
degree of LL.D. This does not, we trust,

mean that Mr. Barrie will be called Dr.
Barrie. But that is impossible. It is hard
to think of the author of My Lady Nicotine
as a Doctor of Laws !

Mr. Ajv'thony Hope has caught the in-
fection. The author of The Prisoner of
Zenda, who can convince us of the reality of
imaginary kingdoms, must now faU back
upon the kingdoms of history. This seems
to us a pity. Simon Dale, his new novel, is
of the period of Charles II. The Duke of
Monmouth and Nell Gwynne are among the
characters. It is told in the first person —
thus : " I, Simon Dale, was born on the
seventh day of the seventh month in the
year of Our Lord sixteen - hundred - and -
forty-seven." Mr. Anthony Hope has in-
deed caught the infection.

Those readers of Punch who in their
minds credit Mr. Seaman with the text of
" Animal Land " are mistaken. Both
pictures and descriptions are the work of
Mr. E. T. Eeed. We congratulate Mr.
Eeed on his double gift.

The Paris students who have been hooting
and insulting M. Zola during his splendid
campaign do not, we are glad to say, repre-
sent the opinion of all educated youths in
that city. The editor of L' (Euvre — a " Eevue
polyglotte ouverte aux jeunes " — M. Jean
Severe, addresses to the novelist an ode of
enthusiastic felicitation on his action, in
the name of a group of students and young
Frenchmen.

Mr. E. W. Chambers's new romance,
Lorraine, which has not yet reached this
country, is spoken of well in America.
Whatever its claims to serious notice may
be, it cannot be denied that the author's
prefatory poem has unusual charm and
beauty :

" When Yesterday shall dawn again,
And the long line athwart the hill
Shall quicken with the bugle's thrill,
Thine own shall come to thee, Lorraine I

Then in each vineyard, vale, and plain,
The quiet dead shall stir the earth
And rise, reborn, in thy new birth —
Thou holy martyr-maid, Lorraine !

Is it in vain thy sweet tears stain
Thy mother's breast ? Her castled crest
Is lifted now ! God guide her quest I
She seeks thine own for thee, Lorraine !

So Yesterday shall live again,
And the steel line along the Rhine
Shall cuirass thee and all that's thine.
France lives — thy Prance^livine Lorraine ! "

A good French translation of this poem
should run through France like wildfire.

Mr. Chambers, however, seems to have
gone further than justice would have
dictated in some of his verdicts on contem-
porary Frenchmen, many of whom figure in
the pages of his novel. Thus : " There, too,
was Hugo — often ridiculous in his terrible
moods, egotistical, sloppy, roaring. The
Empire pinched Hugo, and he roared ; and
let the rest of the world judge whether,
under such circumstances, there was majesty
in the roar."

206

THE ACADEMY.

[FzB. 19, 1898.

Mr. Meredith's seventietli birthday was
made the occasion of a very pretty com-
pliment to the novelist. The following
letter, signed by a number of men and
women prominent in literary and public
life, was sent to him :

" To George Meredith :

Some comrades in letters who have long
valued your work send you a cordial greeting
upon your seventieth birthday.

You have attained tho first rank in literature,
p-fter n'.any years of inadequate recognition.
From first to last you have been true to your-
self, and have always aimed at the highest
mark. We are rejoiced to know that merits
once perceived by only a few are now appre-
ciated by a wide and steadily growing circle.
We wish you many years of life, during which
you may continue to do good work, cheered by
the consciousness of good work aheady
achieved, and encouraged by the certainty
of a hearty welcome from many sympathetic
readers."

The instigators were Mr. Leslie Stephen
and Mr. Gosse, and the signatories were
J. M. Barrie, Walter Besant, Augustine
Birrell, James Bryce, Austin Dobson,
Conan Doyle, Edmund Gosse, E. B.
Haldane, Thomas Hardy, Frederic Harrison,
"John Oliver Hobbes," Henry James, E. C.
Jebb, Andrew Lang, Alfred Lyall, W. E. H.
Lecky, M. Londin, F. W. Maitland, Alice
MeyneU, John Morley, F. W. H. Myers,
James Payn, Frederick PoUock, Anne
Thacker.iy Eitchie, Henry Sidgwick, Leslie
Stephen, Algernon Charles Swinburne, Mary
A. Ward, G. F. Watts, Theodore Watts-
Dunton, Wolseley. The list does not, of
course, include aU prominent men of letters
who have fought for Mr. Meredith's fame
— we miss, for example, the names of Grant
AUen, Frederick Greenwood and W. E.
Henley — but it is complete enough to con-
stitute firm testimony to Mr. Meredith's
power and distinction.

At the same time several of the leading
papers referred to Mr. Meredith's illustrious
record in terms of eulogy. The Times had
a particularly good article, from which we
extract the following sentences :

" There are two elements in Mr. Meredith's
work which have assured his victory. One is
his dehght, and his power of communicating
delight, in humanity and its thousand activities ;
in men and women, in their health, their rapid
movements, their loves, their antagonisms, their
sorrows, and their joys. . . . And the second
unapproEichable gift of the author is his por-
trayal of women. It seems a strong thing to
say, but it is a defensible position that the only
Enghsh artist who has left the world a richer
gallery of fair women than Mr. Meredith is
. . . Shakespeare himself. Doubtless there is
a cei-tain conscious debt on the part of the
modem writer : he has drawn much from
' Twelfth Night ' and ' Much Ado,' from ' The
Winter's Tale ' and ' Cymbeline.' But it is a
great achievement to learn weU the Shake-
spearian lesson. To perform that task one
must have some share of Shakespeare's quahties
— something, at least, of his subtle insight and
of his magical utterance."

The Daily News and the Chronich, to name
no others, had also generous and luminous
estimates of Mr. Meredith's work.

On the other hand, the Standard ofEered
its readers a most grudging estimate of Mr.
Meredith's work, containing the following
sentence — " Neither his men and women
nor his plots possess, as a rule, much merit,
though there are some exceptions in each
case" — and endingwith this odd comparison :

"Mr. Meredith has not much dramatic
ability, but he is something of a philosopher ;
and the views of life which he conveys are
often such as to merit attention -not always,
indeed, for their truth, but rather for their
originality. We should not rank him much
below Charlotte Bronte, though the authoress
of Jane Eyre leaped into a sudden popularity,
which some might call notoriety, such as
Mr. Meredith has never attained."

Truly is the Standard a Conservative organ.
In its orthography, however, may be noticed
a keen desire for change. Mr. Swinburne
is docked of his final "e" and Richard
Feverel cornea out "Feveril."

But the Standardhas lately gone curiously
wrong in its spelling of proper names. One
day this week its dramatic critic announced
that at the Lyceum will shortly be seen a
new comedy by Mr. H. D. Traill Hitchens —
an amusing amalgamation of a well-known
critic with a novelist.

A Japanese writer has been complaining,
with some reason it wiU be admitted, of the
poor pay of Japanese authors. The rate for
the work of the best native novelists is
between the maximum of one yen (equal to
about one and elevenpence) and forty to
fifty sen (a hundredth part of a yen) per
page of 400 characters. We do not know
what the merits of Japanese novelists are,
but however poor their stories may be, they
seem to need a Sir Walter Besant to fight
for them.

The poems of Jean Ingelow in one
volume will be welcomed by many. This
edition, which fills 831 pages, begins with
"Divided" and ends with " Perdita." It
is published by Messrs. Longmans, and a
portrait of the author — somewhat of a
pathetic figure this, with wistful eyes — is
given as a frontispiece.

The shuffling of magazines continues.
Messrs. F. V. White & Co. have just pur-
chased The Ludgaie Monthly, which was
bought a few years ago by BlacTc and White
from the original proprietor.

The following curious advertisement
appears in the Author's Circular :

"SENSATIONAL AETICLE.

' SELLING A STATE SECBET,'
BEING

A circumstantial account of the manner in
which a secret of the French Government was
marketed in London. No names are given but
the representations made by the vendor as to
the genuineness of the thing ; to whom appli-
cations were made ; who wanted the secret ;
and how it was ultimately disposed of, with
other ])articulars, are given in full. First firm
ofier will be accepted. — Apply, &c."

following advertisement, also in its way
remarkable :

" Rudyard Kipling's * Recessional '

The most famous poem of recent years

(>y niCKINSOK IIAND-MAT>K rAPKI!

Rubricated Title and Signature (in facsimile of
autograph)

SHEET SIX Br EIGHT INCHES
Ten cents net per copy. One hundred copies, S7.50 ' '

It is a little odd to see a poem wliich is
notoriously out of print in the country for
which it was written, being offered by
hundreds in America.

From the New York Critic we take the

We have received the following request :

" On March 20 Henrik Ibsen will complete
his seventieth year. This day will be cele-
brated with great festivals in the literary world
of the North, as well in Norway, the poet's
native land, as in Denmark, from which country
the poet's works are sent out, and to which he
is bound with so many and so strong ties. The
principal book-publishers will send out com-
memorative writings, and the theatres are pre-
paring series-performances of plays by Ibsen.
The daily paper PolHiken in Copenhagen, the
greatest and most widely circulated daily
paper of Denmark, intends to contribute to the
celebration of the day by publishing a paper,
to which we take the liberty of applying for
your kind assistance. Through these lines we
apply to the eminent writers of Europe and
America. We beg you to communicate to the
readers of our paper, in a few lines (we should
prefer thirty as a maximum), some impression
you have received from Henrik Ibsen, his
works, his rank as a dramatist, or as a thinker,
his influence, if he has had any, on the litera-
ture of your country, which of his works you
know, which you value most, &c., &c. We
beg you to give perfectly free utterance to
your opinions, whichever they may be."

Our opinions are too complex to be uttered
lightly ; but we wish well to the Folitiken's
scheme.

Summer Moths, Mr. Heinemann's new
play, which is published this week, was
sent by the author, while still in MS.,
to a critic whose opinion he ' ' especially
valued." This gentleman, described by Mr.
Heinemann as " peerless among those who
sit to judge" (who can he have been?)
" expressed astonishment at the relentless
morality of the play." Such was not the
view of the Licenser of Plays, who, for
"acting purposes," at once proceeded to
remove the " relentless morality " : thus
making Summer Moths, so Mr. Heinemann
teUs us, ' ' if not positively immoral — unmoral,
to say the least." The play is now printed
as originally written.

If a moral play be a play where the
villain of the piece reaps in the fourth act
what he sowed in the first, then Summer
Moths is a moral play. We presume that
Mr. Heinemann wrote it as a warning to
young men that if they seduce the parlour-
maid and the lady housekeeper disagreeable
consequences are bound to ensue. In this
case there is a kind of double or reflex
moral, due to the modem rendering of an
ancient command, which becomes "the sins
of the children shall be visited upon the
fathers." For Philip's father also suffers.

Feb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

207

This unfortunate gentleman (he is a General
and a K.C.B.), after having had the
pleasure of calling his son a hound, and
telling him to " go — go — to hell," is exiled.
"I am driven out from the home of my
ancestors, to spend an old age of disgrace
and misery among strangers. Fact is, I am
unfit now to think of again serving my
Queen." At this juncture two American
ladies are real kind to him :

"Mrs. Watson: 'Let us, in your great
trouble, stand by you — be your friends, your
comforters. Join us on our journey.'

Miss Watson {very softly) : ' Come with us —
come with us ! '

General : ' Ladies, I thank you. You are
right ; there is no place for me in England.
[Taking both their extended handi.) Let us
continue our journey.' "

So ends the play.

Mask Twain, in the immortal legend of
the fishwife, has ofEered a specimen of Ger-
man as she is constructed and sexed. From
a little leaflet of news issued by an English
clergjrman in a little German town, for the
benefit of his parishioners, we take another
specimen, consisting of a re-translation by
himself (into Teutonised-English) of an
English paragraph, .describing the arrival
of an elephant in London, which had been
translated into German :

" Scarcely had the Overseers the Backs turned,
when the colossal Thickskinnedone with a single
Movement his Chains broke and quietly away-
walked. Very cleverly made he himself his
Way between all the betweenstauding Carriages
I and Loadcarts through, imtil he into the open
i Street succeeded. It was yet very early on the
1 Morning and therefore jet rather foggy and
I manempty. Suddenly before a Bakers-
I showwindow Halt making, observed he for
j himself the fresh, outlaid, appetising White-
I loaves. A weak Push of the mighty Head
sulficed in order the whole Window out to Kft,
; and a single Wave of the Trunk swept the
\ whole steaming Bakedwares on to the Street-
' pavement. In the midst between the steaming
Bakery stood he now, and let himself one
Bread after the other devour. There however
neared the BumbailiflFa [Haescher: see Pliigel]
in Form of his Keeper and laid to the Burglar
the Handkow. The Baker received as Damages
the by him demanded Sum of 78 ShilUngs."

A Viennese sculptor, Ernest Hegenbarth,
[has completed a bust of Mark Twain, which
is said to be an excellent likeness. The
joriginal belongs to the sitter, but no doubt
leasts will some day be procurable.

We have much pleasure in making it
known that the good folks of Crofton-hill
Ranch, Florence, New Mexico, are anxious
to establish a circulating library and literary
institute in their midst. One of their
umber is by way of being a poet, and he
as sent in a volume entitled Alamo, mid
'ther Verses, with the information that the
roceeds of the sale of the volume will be
H)plied to defraying the expense of supply-
pig Crofton-hill Eanch, Florence, New
jtfexico, with the above luxuries. Such
aith deserves reward.

Mr. Kipling, in " McAndrew's Prayer,"
makes the old engineer utter the plea :

" Lord, send a man like Kobbie Bums to sing
the song of steam ! "

It seems that a poet, although not exactly
a Robbie Burns, had already arisen to do
so some years beiEore. An American writer,
named George W. Cutter, wrote the "Song
of Steam " in the middle of the century ;
and a capital song it is, as the following
extracts will show :

•' How I laughed, as I lay concealed from sight
For many a countless hour,
At the childish boast of human might.
And the pride of human power.

When I saw an anny upon the land,

A navy upon the seas.
Creeping along, a snail-like band,

Or waiting the wayward breeze ;
When I marked the peasant fairly reel

With the toil which he faintly bore.
As he feebly turned the tardy wheel.

Or tugged at the weary oar ;

When I measured the panting courser's speed.

The flight of the courier-dove.
As they bore the law a king decreed,

Or the lines of impatient love —
I could not but think how the world would
feel,

As these were outstripped afar.
When I should be bound to the rushing wheel,

Or chained to the flying car !

Ha ! ha ! ha ! they found me at last ;

They invited me forth at length,
And I rushed to my throne with a thunder-
blast,

And laughed in my iron strength."

The following pithy sentences are printed
on the little book-marker which is distributed
among the young members of the Library
League, in connexion with the Cleveland
Public Library, Ohio. They are sensible
enough to be worth copying in children's
libraries in this country :

" Please don't handle me with dirty hands.
I should feel ashamed to be seen when the
next little boy borrowed me.

Or leave me out in the rain. Books can
catch cold as well as children.

Or make marks on me with your pen or
pencil. It would spoil my looks.

Or lean your elbows on me when you are
reading me. It hurts.

Or open me and lay me face down on the
table. You wouldn't like to be treated so.

Or putting between my leaves a pencil or
anything thicker than a single sheet of paper.
It would strain my back.

Whenever you are through reading me, if
you are afraid of losing your place, don't turn
down the comer of one of my leaves, but have
a neat little bookmark to put in where you
stopped, and then close me and lay me down
on my side, so that I can have a good, com-
fortable rest.

Remember that I want to visit a great many
other little boys after you are through with
me. Besides, I may meet you again some day,
and you would be sorry to see me looking old
and torn and soiled. Help me to keep fresh
and clean and I will help you to be happy."

The Duke of Devonshire will preside at
the anniversary dinner of the Royai Literary
Fund at the Whitehall Eooms on Tuesday,
Maj 17.

A supplement to Dr. Spiers's French-
English and English-French dictionary is
in preparation. Prof. Victor Spiers requests
that suggestions for additions and corrections
may be sent to him at King's College
London.

Miss Arabella Kenealy, the author
of Dr. Jmut of Harley Street, has written a
new novel, entitled TFoman mid the Shadow.
The heroine is a parvenu. The book will
be published by Messrs. Hutchinson & Co.
early in March.

A HANDBOOK to the coming County Council
Election will be issued immediately as a
" Westminster Popular " from the office of
the Westminster Gazette. Its title will be
The Fight for the Comity Council : an Elector's
Catechism ; or, One-llundred-and- One Reasons
why every Loyal Londoner should Vote Pro-
gressive. It will deal in dialogue form with
all important questions before the electors,
and will be illustrated with cartoons and
sketches by Mr. F. Carruthers Gould.

Early next month will be published a
second series of The Law's Lumber Room, by
Mr. Francis Watt. As in the first series, the
essays deal with strange and picturesque
parts of our old law. The subjects are
fewer, but they have been discussed in
greater detail. Among the articles are
"Tyburn Tree," "Some Disused Eoads to
Matrimony," " The Border Laws," and
"The Serjeant-atLaw."

A FEATURE of Mr. Budgett Meakin's
Romance of Morocco, now preparing for the
press, is the critical review of over two
hundred volumes on that country in English,
Spanish, French, Italian, German, Danish,
Dutch and Arabic, the perusal of which has
been a labour of years.

The first number of a new periodical
reaches us, in the shape of The Sculptor, an
illustrated magazine for those interested in
sculpture.

Lieut. Peary, the Arctic explorer, who
will in June make a determined effort to
reach the North Pole, has completed the
narrative of his seven Arctic expeditions.
The book, which is one of considerable
length, will be published in April by Messrs.
Methuen.

A parody of The War of the Worlds has
been written, and will be published shortly
in Arrowsmith's Bristol Library. The two
authors, Messrs. C. L. Graves and E. V.
Lucas, have agreed upon The War of the
Wenuses as a title for their travesty.

Messrs. Macmillan & Co. are about to
publish a small volume on The Study of
Children and their School Training, by Dr.
Francis Warner, of the London Hospital.
Though addressed chiefly to teachers, parents,
and others in daily contact with children,
it will contain also information that is likely
to be of interest to those who are called
upon to direct education, philanthropy, and
other forms of social work, as well as those
concerned with mental science.

208

THE ACADEMY.

[Fkb. 19, 1898.

SIR THOMAS BEOWNE.

In editing a new edition of Religio Medici
and Sir Thomas Browne's other essays
(Smith, Elder & Co.) Dr. Morley Eoberts has
written an introduction which might serve as
a model for similar undertakings. It is ex-
tremely convenient to have a brief and
trustworthy memoir giving the salient facts
of an author's life, and dealing as little
as possible in mere opinion. This is the
modest and sensible course pursued by Dr.
Morley Eoberts. He does not, however,
leave us entirely without guidance. Effacing
himself he reprints De Quincey's eloquent
testimony, and a passage from Carlyle, so
noble of itself, so worthy of its subject, that
we cannot refrain from repeating it.

" The conclusion of the essav on um burial
is absolutely beautiful ; a still elegiac mood,
so soft, so deep, so solemn and tender, like the
song of some departed saint flitting faint imder
the canopy of heaven; an echo of deepest
meaning ' from the great and famous nations of
the dead.' "

Carlyle vmdoubtedly selected for this
eulogy the finest passage ever written by
"the great and solemn master of Old
English." Those who doubt it will do well
to read it again from the paragraph begin-
ning "But the iniquity of oblivion blindly
scattereth her poppy." Significant, too, is
the fact that the fullest appreciation of
Browne comes from a mind of the nine-
teenth century. The intervening eighteenth
— the century of Addison, Steel, Fielding,
and Dr. Johnson — with its love of the
positive, the lucid, the material, was out of
sympathy with this prose dreamer and poet.
Victorian England is more akin to that of
Elizabeth and James than to the Eestoration
and post-Eestoration period. Browne him-
self was a connecting link between the two
last mentioned. He was born in 1605,
a fortnight before the discovery of the
Gunpowder Plot, the year in which Bacon
published his Advancement of Zearnint/i when
Shakespeare had still eleven years to live,
and Milton was not bom. He died in
1682, so that he lived through a stirring
epoch in national history. " The world to
me is but a dream or mock- show," he said,
" and we all but pantaloons and anticks."

Dr. Browne was a very skilful and
observant physician. In the Letter to a
Friend (which we are glad to see included
in this volume) several proofs of this are
given. Take the account of his first visit to
the patient for whose demise this is an
epistle of consolation. It has a peculiar
interest for the student of literature :

" Upon my iirst visit I was bold to tell them
who had not let fall sill hope of his recovery
that in my sad opinion he was not Uke to
behold a grasshopper, much less to pluck
another fig ; and in no long time after
seemed to discover that odd mortal symptom
in him, not mentioned by Hippocrates,
that is, to lose his own face, and look like some
q'. his near relations ; for he maintained not his
proi>er countenance, but looked like his uncle,
the lines of whose face lay deep and invisible in
his healthy visage before ; for as from our
beginning we run through variety of looks,
before we come to consistent and settled faces
80 before our end, by sick and languishing

alterations, we put on new visages ; and m o'»f
retreat to earth may fall upon such looks which
from community of seminal originals were
before latent in us."

Most of us who have been at a death-bed
know something of this curious change, but
to what effective purpose is it put in "In
Memoriam " !

" As sometimes in a dead man's face.

To those who watch it more and more,
A Hkeness hardly seen before
Comes out — to some one of his race :

So, dearest, now thy brows are cold,
I see thee what thou art and know
Thy hkeness to the wise below.

Thy kindred to the great of old."

Life to his sombre genius was almost wholly
"a meditation on death." He looked for-
ward to it with majestic calm during all the
thinking part of a life of seventy-seven years,
and he met it fearlessly at last. He seems
to have carried on the processes of faith and
doubt in separate compartments of his brain
80 that one never interfered with the other.
Indeed, his scientifically trained mind found
the oddest objections to inspiration, as, for
instance, when in one of his most pious
moods it suddenly occurs to him to ask how
Moses reduced the golden calf to ashes, for
" that mystical metal of gold, whose solary
and celestial nature I admire, exposed imto
the violence of fire grows only hot, and
liquefies and consumeth not." Further on
he recalls the assertion of the " chymicks "
that at the last fire " all shall be crystallised
and reverberated into glass." But these
and a hundred other casually stated diffi-
culties are dealt with wholly by the under-
standing ; they do not influence his faith in
the slightest. The man of science, as is
seen over and over again in his "Vulgar
Errors " can bring cold irrefragable logic to
the demolition of beliefs he is out of sym-
pathy with, but the same man on the other
side of his nature is a religious poet —
mystic, credulous, and steeped in super-
stition. He is a firm believer in witches
and witchcraft, corresponds with alchemists
and astrologers like Dr. Dee (misprinted
Lee in this volume), and has a hankering
after the Philosopher's Stone.

His great contemporary Milton has said
that to write an epic you must live an epic,
and Browne has left on record an obverse of
this truth that puzzles his latest as it did
his earlier editors.

" Now for my life," he says in the Ileh'yio,
" it is a miracle of thirty years, which to relate
were not an history but a piece of poetry, and
would sound to common ears like a fable. For
the world, I count it not an inn but an hospital,
and a place not to live but to die in."

Upon this Dr. Morley Eoberts, following
Dr. Johnson, coldly remarks that "its actual
incidents would justify no such description" ;
therein he reverts to the eighteenth century.
What we have to remember is that Browne
was literally cradled in mysticism. " His
father," relates Mrs, Littleton, " used to
open his breast when he was asleep and kiss
it in prayers over him, as 'tis said of Origen's
father, that the Holy Ghost would take
possession there." The point is curious
because it illustrates a vulgar misappre-
hension of romance. Had Browne, as a

Cavalier or Eoundhead, undergone perilous
adventures and hair'sbreadth escapes, wit-
nessed "battles, sieges, fortunes," and cut a
striking figure in the Civil War, then if heart
and brain had been as callous and imim-
pressionable as they usually are in the soldier
type, to the common mind he would have
been a hero of romance, his life would have
been a poem. But true romance lies not in
the action but in the spirit, and he whose
imagination saw the air thronged with
angels and night populous with devils and
spectres, to whom aU creation was a perpetual
wonder and mystery, and death only the
beginning of life, even in tranquil Norfolk,
was, as Pater insists, a true romantic.
"Every man is a microcosm," he says,
" and carries the whole world about with
him."

Unquestionably the best of his work is in
the Urn Burial, where he had a theme
peculiarly adapted to his genius. In the
Religio there is a certain immaturity,
emphasised to us by the fact that modem
doubt and difficulties lie in a different
atmosphere. The influence of Montaigne
is also too fresh and vivid ; inspiring him
to write such paradoxes as the famous one
laughed at so often since in the Ho-Eliana;
letters and elsewhere. " I might be content
to procreate like trees without conjunction,"
&c., a passage that reads singularly now we
know that forty-one years of married life
and twelve children were awaiting in the
unseen future even as he wrote. Yet it
contains some lovely examples of his style,
such as the passage in which this occurs :
" There is in the universe a stair or mani-
fest scale of creatures, rising not disorderly
or in confusion, but with a comely method
and proportion."

Urn Burial was written in the full and
mellow maturity of his power, although
there is visible even here some of that
jotting and note-making which give his
compositions more the air of rude drafts
than finished pictures. Often, too, one sees
by the impotent conclusion of a paragraph
that he likes to call up a succession of fine
images merely for the pleasure of beholding
them. A single quotation will fllustrate
this :

" Why the female ghosts appear unto Ulysses
before the heroes and masculiue spirits; why
the psyche, or soul, of Tiresias is of the macsculine
gender, who being blind sees more than all the
rest in hell ; why the funeral suppers con-
sisted of eggs, beans, smallage, and lettuce,
since the dead are made to eat asphodels about
the Elysian meadows ; why, since there is no
sacrifice acceptable nor any propitiation in the
covenant of the grave, men set up the deity of
Morta, and fi-uitlessly adored divinities with-
out ears, it cannot escape some doubt."

It belonged to the character of his mind
that he deUghted to pose himself with un-
answerable queries, such as "Wliat songs
the syrens sang," or "What name Achilles
assumed when he hid himself among
women." He died as he foretold — on his
birthday; and "the tragical abomination"
he dreaded was perpetrated on his bones,
which were " knaved out of the grave,
and his skull placed on exhibition, at
Norwich in 1840 — three centuries after
death.

Feb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

209

^VHAT THE PEOPLE EEAD.

X. — An Ambassador of Commerce.

In the course of a desultory conversation in
the hotel smoking-room it came out that the
big man with the iron-grey beard had just
come back from Canada. Further enquiry
elicited the information that once every
year he made a business trip across the
Atlantic, and that altogether he had crossed
thirty-four times. I had noticed as I
entered the room that he was reading a

Eenny paper-covered novelette, which he
lid down on the table by hia side in order
to join in the conversation. The circum-
stance impressed me. Bearded men are
not often seen with novelettes, which are
usually supposed to be the joy of house-
maids.

" I should uncommonly like a couple of
long voyages every year," I remarked. " It
would give me time to read such a lot of
books that I shall never be able to read
otherwise. Now I suppose you get
through a deal of reading between here
and Quebec?"

" It's about the only time I do read," he
replied, " and I always lay in a big stock
for the voyage."

" And how do you select your books ?
T always find that the very books I leave
behind me on a holiday are just the books
I wish I had brought."

" I never have any difficulty about that,"
he said. " For the last twenty-five years —
more than that, I should say — I have stuck
to the same plan. Just before I start I send
out and buy the whole year's numbers of the
Family Herald, and all the monthly stories
in the Family Herald Story Teller. And
then I sit down with a pipe and read 'em
all through. If I don't get through them
before I'm back in England again, I finish
'em up at odd times. If they don't last out,
I start afresh on them, and read some of
them again."

" I didn't know they were read much by
men."

" Oh, don't you make any mistake ! I
always lend them, when I've done with them,
to other men on board, and they like 'em
better than anything. They're the most
popular things on the ship."

"And they interest you ? I should have
thought they were scarcely — well — meaty
enough — milk for babes, you know. But
I've never read any of them myself."

"Ah, I expect you go in for what they
caU literature ! "

" Well, I skim most of the books that get
themselves talked about. Don't you care
for the ordinary novel?"

" I can't understand what people see in
the novels that are so popular. Now, a
man on board wanted me to read Phroso.
He said it was exciting. Well, I tried;
jbut I couldn't do it. I wanted to shy it
into the sea. There was another book, too,
called Many Cargoes. That was a bit better ;
but I'd far rather read a Family Herald
story."

" But in what point is it superior — say,
to jPAtom?"

" Well, now you ask me more than I can
tell you. You see, I don't want to know

why I like a story. I know quite well when
I do like it. And if I pick up one of these
novels that people talk about I may like it
or I may not. If I buy fifty-two Family
Heralds 1 know that I shall enjoy reading
them, every one of them. Some are better
than others, of course. I'm told that a good
many of them are written by reaUy good
writers ; but I don't know anything about
that. I only know that I've found out
exactly the sort of reading that suits me,
and I intend to stick to it. Ah, you may
laugh."

"I'm not laughing. I'm rather envious
of anyone who knows how to satisfy himself
with such certainty."

" Well, you see, I don't ask for much.
I only want a story that I can read easily
while I'm smoking, and a story that will
just take my mind and — put it to sleep, so
to speak."

" Some people read to stimulate thought,
you know."

"Well, I read to prevent myself thinking.
That's the difference," he replied.

THE LONDON OF THE WEITEES.

VI. — The Cockney Sentiment.

Dr. Johnson would not have said with Sir
Fopling Flutter: "Beyond Hyde Park all
is a desert." But the sentiment was in his
heart ; and the Doctor's contempt for the
country differed from Sir Fopling' s only in
being more discreet. For whereas Sir
Fopling's arrows fell at Hyde Park-comer,
the Doctor's flew from Fleet-street to MuU,
and thence glanced off to Pekin. " What
is Pekin?" one hears him exclaim. "Sir,
ten thousand Londoners would drive aU the
people of Pekin ; they would drive them
like deer." In his writings Johnson showed
himself no less London-proud. He snuggled
within London, and declared that none but
those who lived in it could conceive its
happiness. Even when he defended the
countryman from the gibes of the cockney
— which he did once — the cockney was not
so much cudgelled as the countryman was
awed.

Dr. Johnson remains the typical exponent
of the cockney sentiment. AU the more is
he that because he was a Londoner by
adoption. There is no London-lover like
the man who has fought for his footing in
the metropolis, and would rather have gone
imder than have gone back. And Johnson,
asserting the Fleet-street pavement, thrust-
ing porters aside, but leading old women by
the hand, ambling from tavern to tavern,
and known as familiarly as Temple Bar, is
the incarnation of the Londoner's joy in
London.

The cockney sentiment has of course
varied in nobility. In Johnson it was of
the best workaday kind. It is not very
noble in Lady Malapert: "0 law!"
exclaimed that lady, " what should I do
in the country ? There's no levees, no Mall,
no plays, no tea at Siam's, no Hyde Park."
It is no loftier in Shenstone's lady of the

ballad, who refuses a Lincolnshire squire's
hand:

"To give up the opera, the park, and the

ball,
For to view the stag's horns in an old

country hall ;
To have neither China nor Indian to see !
Nor a laceman to plague in the morning —

not she I

To forsake the dear play-house, Quin, Garriok,

and Chve,
Who by dint of mere humour had kept her

alive;
To forego the full box for his lonesome abode,

0 Heavens ! she should faint, she should die
on the road."

Thus a woman of fashion. The man of
fashion's feeling is usually nearer to John-
son's. He feels what women do not — the
charm of mere place. To be in London, to be
in the "full tide of existence," to "take a
walk down Fleet-street," to saunter in the
"sweet shady side of Pall MaU" — these
are the delights to which he would choose to
give expression. To the true Londoner
London gives a nameless relish to pleasures
equally possible in the country. Tom
Hood's cockney moralised correctly when
tempted into the country by his cousin
GUes:

" After all, an't there new-laid eggs to be had

upon Holbom Hill ?
And dairy-fed pork in Broad St. Giles's, and

fresh butter wherever you will ?
And a covered cart that brings cottage bread

quite rustical-like and brown ?
So one isn't so very uncountrified in the very

heart of the town.
Howsomever my mind's made up, and

although I'm 8»u*e cousin Giles will be vext,

1 mean to book me an inside place up to town
upon Saturday next,

And if nothing happens, soon after ten, I
shall be at the old Bell and Crown,

And perhaps I may come to the country
again, when London is all burnt down."

Dr. Johnson woidd have grunted approval
of this. But the cockney sentiment has
been enlarged since Johnson's day. London
is loved now for many things which affected
him not. The Londoner has cultivated his
eye. Johnson, indeed, saw men, and heard
men talk, and had the news hot from the
press. But such a genuine little poem as
Henry S. Leigh's "A Cockney's Evening
Song " reflects a mood which Johnson never
knew.

" Fades the twilight in the last golden gleam
Thrown by the sunset on upland and stream ;
Glints o'er the Serpentine — tips Netting

HiU—
Dies on the summit of proud Pentonville.

Temples of Mammon are voiceless again —
Lonely policemen inherit Mark-lane —
Silent is Lothbury — quiet Comhill —
Babel of Conmierce, thine echoes are still.

Far to the South — where the wanderer strays,
Lost among graveyards and riverward ways,
Hardly a footfall and hardly a breath
Comes to dispute Laurence — Pountney with
Death.

Westward the stream of Humanity gUdes ;
'Busses are proud of their dozen insides.
Put up thy shutters, grim Care, for to-day —
Mirth and the lamplighter hurry this way.

210'

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. Id, 1898.

Out on the glimmer weak Hesperus yields !
Oas for the cities and stars for the fields.
Daisies and buttercups, do as ye list ;
I and my friends are for music and whist."

In our own day London pride is not
maintained on jests at the expense of the
country. The truest singers of London life
have watched the west wind on com, have
inhaled the pinewoods, and laughed under
the smiting of clean rain. But they say, or
rather Mr. Selwyn Image has said :

" Yet are these souls of coarser grain,

Or else more flexible, who find
Strange, infinite allurements lurk.

Undreamed of by the simpler mind.
Along these streets, within these walls.
Of cafes, shops, and music-halls.

I'll call not these the best, nor those :
The country fashions, or the town :

On each descend heaven's bounteous rains,
On each the impartial sun looks down.

Why should we gird and argue friend ;

Not follow, where our natures tend ?

The secret's this : where'er our lot,
To read, mark, learn, digest them well,

The devious paths our mortals take.
To gain at length our heaven or hell :

Alike in some still rural scene

Or Regent-street and Bethnal Green."

Even this is cold and argumentative. Mr.
Henley, Mr. Laurence Binyon, Mr. Davidson,
and other London poets, go further. They
obliterate the distinctions between town and
country. They see the march of the seasons
in Holbom, and for them the sunset in St.
James's Park would not be improved if the
sea instead of the duck-pond rolled in its
light. Such sight was not given to
Johnson ; such poetry could not have come
from Lamb. Lamb's love of London sur-
passed Johnson's in breadth, in humanity,
in detailed sympathy ; but it had not the
multitude of tendrils with which Mr.
Henley's or Mr. Binyon's is furnished. He
could exult, indeed, in the press of the
Strand ; but these can do more, they
exult on a higher plane.

Yet the classical expressions of the love
of London are Elizabethan still. Herrick's
cry, on his return to town, stands in that
class:

" From the dull confines of the drooping west.
To see the day spring from the pregnant east,
Ravish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly
To thee, blest place of my nativity !
Thus, thus, with hallow'd foot I touch the

ground.
With thousand blessings by thy fortune

crown'd.
O fruitful Genius ! that bestowest here
An everlasting plenty year by year ;

0 place ! O people ! manners ! framed to
please

All nations, customs, kindreds, languages !

1 am a free-bom Roman ; suffer then
That I amongst you live a citizen.
London my home is; though by hard fate

sent

Into a long and irksome banishment ;

Yet since call'd back, henceforward let me be,

O native coimtry, repossess'd by thee !

For, rather than I'll to the west return,

I'U beg of thee first here to have mine urn.

Weak I am grown, and must in short time
fall ;

Give thou my sacred relics burial ! "
And it were strange if Shakespeare had not
appealed to the cockney sentiment. Surely

he did so in the great chorus passage on the
return of Harry the Fifth from Agincourt.
For who can doubt that the Bankside
audience appropriated it in that sense, and
by it were confirmed in their London self-
consciousness ?

"But now behold
In the quick forge and working-hoiwe of

thought.
How London doth pour out her citizens.
The mayor and all his brethren in best sort.
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels.
Go forth and fetch their conquering Csesar in."

PAEI8 LETTEE.

(From our French Correspondent.)

The question of literature in this present
frenzied state of Paris is an idle one. At
any other time two such notable books as
La Cathedrale and Le DSsastre, with their
actual and historic importance, would have
created a wide interest. Who reads them ?
Who talks of them ? Who writes about
them ? First the affaire Dreyftcs rolled a
tidal wave of passion over Paris that
threatened reason. It only subsided to
burst in a menace of revolution in tho
affaire Esterhazy. Had Paris then possessed
a man of any prestige or political power,
she was ripe for a coup d'etat. There was
nobody, and one of the infinite psychological
moments of her broken history passed in
a gust of words and a few blows in the
Chamber. The incident was useful to
Forain and Caran d'Ache in the Figaro, and
it produced considerable difiiculties in social
existence. In the dining-room, in the
salon, in the smoking-room, the amenities
of conversation are momently suspended.
It has become positively dangerous to speak
of anything but the weather to your dearest
friend. And even the weather is sure,
sooner or later, to bring us back to the
dangerous latitude below the Equator, by
the explosive mention of a certain island, and
the eternal, inevitable question of Dreyfus's
innocence or culpabili^. For there is no
escape. As well have tried at the time of
the war to ignore the existence of tho
Prussians. The fact demands the genius of
a Goethe, and as we are all human and
passionate and excitable here, we make no
pretence to think of anything else.

The affaire Zola has at last landed us in
full hysterics. Eeason itself has flown.
The city, from palace to basement, is divided
into two camps. The army, with its despotic
traditions, its inquisitorial pride on one side ;
EmUe Zola, with his noble demand for
justice to the individual on the other.
Stevenson, in his delightful essay on Fon-
tainebleau, noted two striking features in
French and Anglo-Saxon character. The
Anglo-Saxon is essentially dishonest; the
French has no understanding of fair play.
The lack of the most rudimentary conception
of justice as an abstract right and virtue
in the French mind is astounding. Sadder
reading than that of the arguments of the
anti-Semitics, or the partisans of the army
in this lamentable affair, could not well be

conceived. That Dreyfus, innocent or
guilty, has an equal claim upon justice is
what they would willingly rend you limb
from limb if they could for daring to admit.
A couple of days ago Saint-Genest, in the
front page of the Figaro, wrote a long article
in the name of the outraged army to which
he has the honour to belong. Will it be
believed that the argument he brought
forward against the Eevision, the basis of
his belief in the unfortunate exile's guilt,
was the fact that Dreyfus, a Jew, was anti-
pathetic to all his brother officers. Christians !
And the iniquity of this reasoning of a
prejudiced schoolboy in so grave a case,
where the honour and happiness of an entire
family are concerned, which involves far
more even than the life of a fellow being,
has not struck a single reader of the Figaro,
has not elicited a word of protest from any
quarter.

The French are an interesting, a sparkling,
a delightful race ; but if I ever decide upon
committing a crime I shall betake myself
to the shores of perfidious Albion. What-
ever the faults of the English — and they
are not more perfect than the French — at
least they do not publicly advocate the
despatching of a British subject to distant
penal settlements for life on the groimd
that he is generally anti-pathetic. Indeed,
the amiable Saint - Genest went a step
further. With a candour we can never
sufficiently commend, however much it may
shock us, he admits, because of this an-
tipathy, that if it had rested with him he
would gladly have " suppressed " Dreyfus
instead of sending him to the He du Diable.
This is refreshing. One asks oneself in
dismay. Can it really be possible that we
are at the end of the nineteenth century ?
What is the measure of the progress of
civilisation, after all, if it leaves Paris
to-day not considerably removed from the
fifteenth? " Death to the Jews ! " "To the
river with Zola ! " These are cries to give
us pause in pain. And the excited state of
society is assuredly not more comforting.
To say that at a dinner-table, in a drawing-
room, not a soul may dare honestly express
his mind without terror of raising a commo-
tion hardly less unseemly than that of the
Chamber. I was lately in a salon where an
honest young fellow was making his debut in
the social arena. Fresh from the redoubt-
able quarter, laurelled and diploma-ed, he was
foolish enough to fancy he could sjieak as
freely here as there ; so he said, in a frank
and boyish way : "I only hope they
won't kill Zola." SUence and consternation
around him. There was a military officer
present. To him our hostess turned with a
superb smUe, by which she won pardon for
mention of the awful name, and said quite
loudly, as a hint to the offender : " General,
have you resumed your study of Wagner? "
Mighty powers ! How the atmosphere has
changed ! Once it was Wagner's name
which fanned the breath of revolution, and
the Parisians tore each other to pieces out-
side the Opera House because "Lohengrin"
was being played inside. To-day Wagner
is the sedative, and Zola's name provokes
sedition.

To turn to a more cheerful theme, M.
Jean Hess has written a pleasant voliuue

^EB. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

211

dn the soul of our coloured brethren. It
is a stretch of imagination to call it L'Ame
Ni:gre, for the soul, black or white, hardly
enters into consideration, Something like
a glimpse of it is seen in a cry from the
•'Nigger Bible":

"With the black, nothing, nothing but
pain and hard labour, and also eternal desire.
Why has the AU-Powerf ul given us the envy
and desire of ever more than we know, of
ever more than we can hope to achieve ? Why
has He not given us force as well as desire 'r
We are unfortunate."

For the rest, M. Hesa paints them as con-
tent enough with their material resources.
Here is an excellent portrait of one of their
chiefs :

"Elado was a mau of subtle mind, in
great renown for his cleverness in finding
out the truth in discussions (why not
import him to Paris to preside over the
{ajf'dire /.ola, where, alas! such a chief is in
1 terrible need). His eye was piercing. When
I he spoke to you he looked straight down to
I your heart. He discovered the colour of the
iwords his ears imperfectly heard. The mouth
lof man is sometimes so full of traps that when
the words come forth they have completely
jchanged their garb. Elado heard with his eyes,
ihe saw the words before wickedness or roguery
had time to clothe them. In the councils it
was said that to deceive him, and make him
'believe what was not true, it was necessary to
inake a special compact with the Spirit of
jLies."

Decidedly, the Whites have gone further
han the Blacks, and fared worse, since this
iubtlety and cleverness are not ours.

Un poete Egha is a tale with a touch of
vipling. Not so strong, or so dramatic,
mt with aU Kipling's taste for raw,
rude colours and strange words of remote
nd barbaric races. The same strain runs
lirough Majogbe, but, though fresh and
icturesque, it might with advantage be cut
own half its present length, and gain
hereby something of Stevenson's tense grasp
nd vitality. M. Hess has an agreeable
tyle. He is a traveller and a sailor, like
'ierre Loti, who brings us back rare scenes
nd characters, and names and traditions,
nd all this forms very bright reading. But
} make it vivid and living to us, to give
jrm and feature to these strange names,
I needs the exquisite freshness of Steven-
sn's style, the unapproachable charm of
oti's, and the incommunicable genius of

ther.

H. L.

THE WEEK.

ip^Hl'] publications of the week arc miscel*
L laneous, but not unimportant ; and
Le arrival of Dr. George Brandes's Study
Shakespeare is an event. A curious
ixtaposition in our list is that of a history
' Indian literature, beginning with the first
jedic bards, and a history of Australian
lerature starting from 1825!

the title is affixed on a label o* vellum.
The interest of the work can hardly be
overstated. Dr. Brandes is an optimist on
the questions of how far we do or may
know Shakespeare. He concludes his second
volume with these words :

"It U the author's opinion that, given the
possession of forty-five important works by
any man, it is entirely our own fault if we
know nothing whatever about him. The poet
has incorporated his whole individuality in these
writings, and there, if we can read aright, we
shall find him.

" The William Shakespeare who was born at
Stratford-on- Avon in the reign of Queen Eliza-
beth, who lived and wrote in London during
her reign and that of James, who ascended into
heaven in his comedies and descended into hell
in his tragedies, and died at the age of fifty-
two in his native town, rises a wonderfid
personality in grand and distinct outlines, with
all the vivid colouring of life from the pages
of his books, before the eyes of all who read
them with an open, receptive mind, with sanity
of judgment and simple susceptibility to the
power of genius."

Pkof. Max MiJller has published his
recollections of men and things (some of
which appeared in the Nineteenth Centtiry)
in volume form. Prof. Miiller has this
pleasant account to give of the inception of
his book :

"What are you to do when you are sent
away by your doctor for three or four weeks of
perfect rest? ... I found myself in small
lodgings at an English watering-place with
nothing to do all day long but to answer a
number of accumulated letters and to read
the Times, which always follows me. What
was I to do y Doctors ought to know that to a
man accustomed to work enforced rest is quite
as irritating and depressing as travaiix forces.
In self-defence I at last hit on a very simple ex-
pedient : I began to write what could be written
without a single book, and taking paper, pen, and
ink — these I had never forsworn — I jotted
down some recollections of former years. . . .
I know, from sad experience, that my memory
is no longer what it was. AU I can say is, that
the positive copy, here published, is as true and
as exact as the rays of the evening sun of lite,
falling on the negative in my memory, could
make it."

iDh, George Brandes's critical study of
iUiam Shakespeare comes in two volumes

' more than four hundred pages each.
lese are bound in green buckram, and

Mr. E. W, Frazer, whose Literary
History of India is before us, is lecturer
in Telegu and Tamil at University
CoUege. He wrote the volume on
British India in the " Story of the
Nations " Series, and he is the author of a
little book entitled Silent Gods and Sun-
Steeped Lands, in which he treated Indian
life and faiths in a popular manner. Those
books, however, must have been trifling
undertakings compared with this compre-
hensive critical survey of Indian literature.
Mr. Frazer, of course, begins with the
Aryan invasion. Thence he passes to the
early Vedic bards, to Brahmanism, to
Buddhism, to the great Epics and the
Drama ; and concludes with a consideration
of " The Foreigner in the Land."

The authors of The Development of Aus-
tralian Literature, Mr. Heniy Gyles Turner
and Mr. Alexander Sutherland, write : " To
Our Wives we Dedicate this Book ; to the
Reading Public we Commend It ; to the

Critics we Submit It with Becoming Deltr-
ence." An account of Australian literature
is certainly no superfluous production. The
writers say in their Preface :

"Australia has most assuredly produced no
genius of the great, calm, healthful type. Her
writers have, as a class, been ill-balanced in
mind, and therefore have had more or less un-
happy careers, or else tuey have bewailed at
heart the woes of exile from the homes of early
childhood, which, sean through the tenderly
deceitful light of the dawn of memory, make
the transplanted poet encourage a melancholy
view of his new surroundings. Thus our
literature has many sad notes in it, and not a
few that are morbid. Still, we may claim that,
such as it is, it now is gathering power to speak
to the hearts of millions, and with the weight
and importance it is thus acquiring there
comes an increasing curiosity to know the story
of its development, and the personal careers
and characters of its chief writers."

It appears that the iirst book printed and
published in Australia was a treatise On
the Cultivation of the Vine, and t/ie Art of
Making Wine, by one James Busby. It was
issued in 1825, and fell dead from the press.

Mr. Axdrew Lang has written an Intro-
duction to a little book, entitled The High-
lands of Scotland in i750. The basis of the
book is an MS. which has long lain in the
King's Library in the British Museum.
Mr. Lang says that the author of the MS.,
which describes the Highlands in 1750, is
unknown ; but " it may be conjectured that
the writer is a Mr. Bruce, an official under
Government, who, in 1749, was employed
to survey the forfeited and other estates in
the Highlands."

Mr. Walter Copland Perry dedicates
his book. The Women of Homer, to the
Queen, by permission. Mr. Perry has
written his book for the general reader,
packing his learning into Appendices for
the benefit of Greek scholars. He writes :

" How lively and thorough may be the sense
and understanding of classical antiquity in
those who have little or no knowledge of
the Greek language, is exemplified in very
numerous instances. Who has portrayed Greek
and Boman heroes so faithfully as Shake-
speare, with his ' small Latin and less Greek ' ?
Whose heart has been thrilled with greater
rapture by the divine songs of Homer than
those of Goethe and Schiller ? Who has ever
shown a more subtle instinct for Greek art and
Greek poetry than Keats, in his ' Ode to a
Grecian Urn,' his 'Psyche' and 'Endymion'?
Yet none of these were classical scholars ; they
derived their knowledge of Ghreek literature
chiefly from translations. The same may bo
predicated of many of our most popular modem
artists, who delight to take their subjects from
the two grand Epics of Homer."

Mr. Perry has chapters on "The Magic
of Homer," "The Position of Women in
the Iliad and Odyssey," "Marriage," and
"The Dress of Women in Homer." The
book is illustrated with photographs from
ancient Greek and Roman statues. In these,
says Mr. Perry, the dresses are archseo-
logicaUy incorrect ; but " pictorial and
plastic remains of the Heroic age do not
J furnish sufficient examples of Homeric dress
from which to derive satisfactory illus-
trations."

212

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 19, 1898.

The "Victorian Era" Series, published
by Messrs. Blackie & Son, has just been
enriched by a critical study of Charies
Dickens by Mr. George Gissing. Mr.
Gissing does not favour his reader with a
preface; but his twelve chapter-headings
indicate clearly enough the aim and scope
of this book. "We have " The Growth of
Man and "Writer," "The Story-Teller,"
" Art, "Veracity, and Moral Purpose,"
" Satiric Portraiture," " Style," &c.

By a coincidence there comes with Mr.
Gissing's book a volume made up of occa-
sional writings of Charles Dickens, con-
tributed to old periodicals, and never till
now reprinted. Mr. F. G. Kitton has
written an Introduction, in which he says :

" For English readers the entire contents of
the present volume will possess the charm of
novelty, for here Charles Dickens is somewhat
imexpectedly revealed to them in the role of
essayist, critic, and politician. The majority of
these fugitive pieces were actually produced at
a period subsequent to the time when the name
of the author of Pickwick became a household
word, and are, therefore, essentially charac-
teristic of his well-known literary style."

The story which gives the volume its title.
To be Red at Busk, was written in 1852 for
the Keepsake, in compliance with an earnest
request from Miss Power, who had succeeded
Lady Blessington as editor of the annual.
From the essays and sketches in the volume
the reader may gather once more Dickens's
views on capital punishment, popular educa-
tion, copyright, and other social questions.

Mr. Latibence Housman has put forth a
sUm book of "Devotional Love Poems"
entitled Spikenard. They have a deeply
spiritual character, and the title of the poem
is justified in the following lines printed at
the end of the book :

' ' As one who came with ointments sweet,

Abettors to her fleshly guUt,
And brake and poured them at Thy feet.

And worshipped Thee with spikenard spilt:
So from a body full of blame,
And tongue too deeply versed in shame.
Do I pour speech upon Thy Name.
O Thou, if tongue may yet beseech,
Near to Thine awful Feet let reach
This broken spikenard of my speech."

THE BOOK MARKET.

" WHAT HAS DANTE TO DO "WITH
ST. PANGEAS?"

There are apparently three orders of poets :
great poets, whose works sell widely ;
mediocre poets, whose works sell some-
what; and Mr. "W. A. Eaton, whose works
sell enormously. Mr. Eaton's "Popular
Poems " are to be seen in the windows of
small newsvendors. Their price is a penny
each, and they have enjoyed popularity for
nearly twenty years. ' ' The Fireman's "Wed-
ding " — Mr. Eaton's masterpiece — is in its
one hxindred and twenty-fourth thousand;
" The Wreck of the Princess Alice " is in
its thirty- third thousand; " BiU Bowker's

Wooing" is in its seventh thousand; and
"The Eivals" and " The Theatre on Fire"
are in their sixteenth thousands.

The secret of Mr. Eaton's success is not
far to seek. He knows what the people
like in the way of rhyme and sentiment, and
he supplies it. His name is a household
word in mean streets. He could probably
answer Mr. John Morley's question, ""What
has Dante to do with St. Pancras ? " more
truthfully and pertinently than any man in
London. To a great part of St. Pancras
Mr. Eaton is Dante. By that or any other
name he would be popular, because he is
the people's poet, writing in their own
language, and saying in rhyme what they
are saying without rhyme. He is also an
adept at bringing a lump into their throats ;
a luxury which the underfed working youth
allows himself occasionally.

Here are the opening verses of "The
Fireman's Wedding " :

" "What are we looking at, gov'nor ?

Well, you see that carriage and pair ?
It's a wedding — that's what it is, sir :
And am't they a beautiful pair ':"

They don't want no marrow-bone music,
There's the fireman's band come to play !

It's a fireman that's going to get married,
And you don't see such sights every day !

They're in the church now, and we're waiting
To give them a cheer as they come ;

And the grumbler that wouldn't join in it
Deserves all his life to go dumb."

The story is told in a score of verses —

" And there was the face at the window.

With its blank look of haggard despair —
Her hands were clasped tight on her bosom,
And her white lips were moving in prayer."

Of course. And then we are back at the
church door :

" And now, sir, they're going to get married —
I bet you she'll make a good wife ;
And who has the most right to have her ;■■
Why, the fellow that saved her young life.

A beauty I ah, sir, I believe you I

Stand back, lads ! stand back I here they
are ;
We'll give them the cheer that we promised,

Now, lads, with a hip, hip, hurrah ! "

But Mr. Eaton is not always pushing
everyday life to its extreme incidents.
Fires and firemen are of his stock-in-trade,
and there must always be movement, but
not every cry of " Police ! " or " Murder ! "
in Mr. Eaton's verses means a tragedy.
In " A Little Mistake " they are raised in
the course of a comical game of cross purposes
resulting from Timothy Prout's wfdking
into the wrong house — a mistake for which
the reader is prepared by the following little
photographic picture :

" He was tired of the bricks and mortar and

noise.
The dust and the traffic and impudent boys.
The smoke and the din of the dark city street.
So he thought he would seek a ' suburban

retreat.'
At Peckham a snug little villa he found.
With a garden at back, quite a nice piece of

ground;
But the houses in front were so much like

each other.
It was like picking out one twin from his

brother.

The doors were alike, and the windows as

well.
Even down to the shape of the knocker and

bell;
And, as if to make the resemblance complete,
One key would imlock every door in the

street."

Mr. Eaton is always very much on the side
of the angels. Some of his poems are
Temperance tracts, but they are far too
human to be resented as such. Again, in
"All the Winners" the obvious lesson is
brought home mercilessly. i

" Home : he crept in like a cidprit, 'M

Stole like a thief through the door ;
And he heard, like the voice of a demon,
' All the winners I Special I ' once more.

Alone in his own little chamber,
A pistol pressed close to his head.

That form full of life in the morning.
At night lay all ghastly and dead.

Alas for the sweetheart and mother I
Alas for the deed that was done I

If he were one of the winners.
Now tell me, What had he won '' "

" Gentleman Dick " is a plea for the
Sunday-school, and "A Kiss for a Blow"
wears its moral in its title. We notice,
however, that the songs which have run
into their thousands are not these, but pieces
like " The Wreck of the Princess Alice,''
which has still a large sale. The narratoi
is a husband who saved his wife and child
in that catastrophe, and his story contains
such pictures as this —

" And there in the river were hundreds
Going down with a cry of despair.
The top of the water seemed covered
With faces and long floating hair."

In "The Theatre on Fire" (the piece wai
a pantomime) we read :

" "Who can describe the horror of that scene ?
Some call aloud for friends that cauno
come;
Some stand as if they asked what it coul(
mean,
Yet seem by abject terror stricken dumb.

Meanwhile the flames spread quickly anc
destroy
The painted grotto in the ' Bowers o
Bliss,'
And round the mimic ' Fairy's Home of Joy
They roar and flicker with defiant hiss.

Of course Mr. Eaton "did " the Jubilee
Here is the scene at St. Paul's :

"The eight cream coloured horses cam

proudly prancing by.
And the Queen was bowing, smiling ; I sa^

some strong men cry ;
It was the grandest sight I think the worl

has ever seen,
She's proud of her good people, and we'r

proud of such a Queen.

No doubt you read the papers, about th

service there.
Upon St. Paul's Cathedral steps, the specii

hymn and prayer,
And how the good Archbishop, so dignifie

and grave.
Cried ' Cheers for Queen Victoria I ' Si

cheers the people gave."

" So runs the round of life from hour t
hour " might be the motto on Mr. Eaton
collected works. But an alternative mott
would be : " What has Dante to do wit
St. Pancras?"

Feb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

213

DRAMA.

AFTEE. a period of commenda'ble
self - reliance, the English, stage is
again showing a disposition to lean upon
adaptations from the French. Mr. Tree
has commissioned an English version of
M. Eichepin's latest play, "Le Chemineau,"
which Mr. Parker is adapting under the
title of "Ragged Eobin"; and Sir Henry-
Irving is understood to have acquired the
English rights of the most recent Parisian
success, " Cyrano deBergerac," a poetic and
costume play by M. Rostand, a young
author who has already forced the portals
of the Comedie Francjaise. So much activity
in the importation of serious drama is un-
precedented of recent years. Farce has
always been a favourite article de Paris, and
the disappearance from the biUs of " Never
Again," the successor to the highly popular
Vaudeville piece, " A Night Out," has
promptly been followed by the production
at the Duke of York's Theatre of " The
Dovecot," an English version of " Jalouse."
" Cyrano de Bergerac " has added another
to the many triumphs of M. Coquelin ; but I
j must own to having some doubts as to the
[ title-part being entirely suited to Sir Henry
1 Irving. The hero of M. Rostand's play is
j a Gascon adventurer of the D'Artagnan
type — a redoubtable swordsman, who is
cursed with a nose of unsightly dimensions.
This nose has its dramatic raison d'etre in
the fact that, despite his courage and
gallantry, it alienates from its possessor
the aflections of the fair sex ; so that
Cyrano de Bergerac is compelled to woo his
lady-love, Roxane, by deputy, a course
which lands him in a series of romantic
adventures recalling the days of chivalry.
Such a piece naturally lends itself to
romantic illustration, and, so far. would
admirably fulfil the purposes of the Lyceum ;
but it is somewhat difficult to picture Sir
Henry Irving in the part.

Foe the portrayal of such parts, re-
juiring breadth, distinction and romance,
VI. Coquelin has a veritable genius. This
iort of impersonation, to be sure, does not

Iie beyond the range of Sir Henry Irving's
)owers, which, as his Benedick has shown,
^iomprise both gallantry and humour; but
iil. Rostand's hero is addicted to poetic
jirades and declamatory speeches, which,
[hough congenial to the French public, find
little acceptance on the English stage,
jrhere the art of diction is so little culti-
lated. Moreover, the interest of the French
jilay depends, to some extent, upon pecu-
liarities of (jasgon speech and character,
rhich would necessarily disappear from an
Inglish adaptation. Nevertheless, Sir
lenry Irving's early appearance as Cyrano
e Bergerac appears to be ensured ; and,
fter all, it may not prove a greater totir de
tree than his Napoleon in " Mme. Sans-
i'i'ne," which, owing to the withdrawal of
Peter the Great," has reappeared in the
kyceum programme.

anxiety to the wife, but the wife who supposes
quite unjustly all manner of wickedness on
the part of the husband. In fact, the lady
is the victim of unreasoning jealousy.
Technically speaking, the action of the piece
is innocence itself, but the atmosphere is
charged with so much suggestiveness that
I do not know that morality gains anything
from the unwonted show of delicacy on the
part of the authors. The wife's weakness is
promptly turned to account by the servants,
who have discovered that whenever they
want to have a quiet evening they can
obtain it by playing upon their mistress's
suspicions, the invariable result being a
conjugal scene which causes husband and
wife to shut themselves up in their respective
rooms. Soon after the rising of the curtain
a favourable opportunity for practising this
device presents itself.

" The Dovecot " exhibits an ingenious
.version of the plot of ordinary French
Tce. It is not ttie husband who causes

As the husband returns, supposedly from
his club, the housemaid besprinkles his coat
with scent, and plants two incriminating
yellow hairs on his shoulder. No more is
needed to ensure a domestic explosion. The
wife's keen nose and eyes detect the
evidences of the husband's guilt, and the
usual recriminations lead to an appeal to
the lady's parents with a view to a separa-
tion. Here by an ingenious revirement the
dramatists show us the more attractive side
of the medal. The parents might have been
candidates for the Dunmow Flitch many
times over. For thirty years they have
lived a life of unbroken happiness. But
hearing of the contemplated visit of their
daughter and son-in-law, whose marriage
is a failure, they resolve upon a little mysti-
fication of their own, arguing Ulogically
enough that if they are seen quareUing the
young people will be disgusted with the idea
of conjugal dissension, and will make haste
to fall into each other's arms. Accordingly,
when the erring son and daughter arrive,
the aged couple appear to be engaged in a
violent altercation. Unfortunately, Darby
and Joan have not reckoned with the mis-
chievous powers of a suspicious woman like
their daughter ; for in a short time, thanks
to this lady's interference, the pretended
quarrel is changed into reality, and the
flagging story receives a fresh fillip. In the
end, needless to say, the housemaid con-
fesses to her trick and the warring parties
are reconciled.

I MUST confess to finding the humour
of such a story somewhat thin. "The
Dovecot " is one of those pieces which are
made to look more amusing than they really
are. The actors rush to and fro in a
general hurry-scurry ; excitement appears
to reach a high pitch, and, nevertheless, the
spectators' pulse remains unquickened.
This is the result of artificially stretching
out into three acts a story which ought
comfortably to be presented in one. In
various ways, too, some instability of
purpose on the part of the adapters is
evident. The French authors felt the
necessity of binding the two sections
of the piece more closely together than
the above analysis would show. "With
this view they contrived an episodical
character, that of a general whose daughter

is engaged to a brother of the jealous wife's,
and who is desirous of seeing what sort of
family he is asked to link his fortunes with.
As ill-luck would have it, the general visits
both households while the domestic tension
is at its greatest, whereupon in the French
he calmly inquires of his intended son-in-
law, "Vous n'avez pas d'autres parents &
me montrer?" The mot is one of those
happy thoughts in which Bisson's dialogue
abounds. In the adaptation we find this
episodical general, but for some reason he
misses his effect. Again, the disturbing
presence of a Spanish lady seems a far-
fetched incident in a " village in the West
of England," to which the adapters trans-
plant their action, however natural it
may be, is the original scene which, if I
remember rightly, was Bordeaux, and
generally there is a certain lack of con-
sistency in the treatment of the story.
This would seem to be explained by a
letter from Mr. Brookfield, originally named
as the adapter, in which he intimates that
he has ceased to be responsible for the
adaptation, by reason of his enforced col-
laboration with the " literati of the Stock
Exchange," whatever that may mean.
Despite a few obvious shortcomings, how-
ever, the adaptation is, on the whole,
cleverly done, though, in view of the great
success of " A Night Out," with its French
personnel, it seems a needless waste of
energy to Anglicise such a story. The
chief parts devolve upon Mr. Seymour
Hicks and Miss Ellis Jeffreys, as the young
couple ; Mr. James Welch and Miss Carlotta,
as their elders ; and Mr. Sugden, Mr. Wyes,
and others in incidental parts.

J. F. N.

CORRESPONDENCE.

" FOUNDER."

SiE, — " Foundered," originally applied to
lameness in horses, is a word not unknown
in the secondhand bookmarket, where it
denotes a maimed or halting copy — one
which is the worse for wear and usage, and
therefore unpresentable — in fact, the an-
tithesis of a "tall" copy. Mr, Henley, no
doubt, in his essay on Bums, uses the word
in its active form in this connexion. — Your
obedient servant,

Alfred E. Thiselton.

Feb. 14.

A TAX ON PUBLISHERS.

Sir, — The grievance of publishers at
being compelled to present to the privileged
libraries five copies of every new book or
new edition is of long standing, and the
time has ttndoubtedly come, now that there
is a rumour about a new Copyright Act, for
the "Copyright Association" to bestir
themselves.

The British Museum stands alone, and I
am sure no publisher would grudge present-
ing that institution with a copy of all his
books, provided he could obtain a certificate
of copyright by so doing, the delivery of
such book proving the date of publication
beyond dispute, and thus doing away with

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 19, U

the Stationers' Hall fee and formality for
entering the copyright.

I would suggest to the responsible leaders
of the " Copyright Association " that they
avail themselves of the valuable hints con-
tained in Cowtan's Memories of the Briikh
Museum, published as far back as 1872,
a chapter of which is full of interest-
ing matter concerning the Copyright Act,
and would no doubt help them to a great
extent in placing this grievance of publishers
before the framers of the new Act.

By the way, I might mention that the
waste of weary hours which had to be spent
in searching for a title at Stationers' Hall
is now done away with. The officials of the
Company have at last compiled an alplia-
betical register, so that titles can be found
in a few minutes, when formerly it meant
possibly a few days' search. This new book
would, of course, be turned over to the
British Museum and kept up to date by an
entry being made of all books delivered. —
Yours, &c., B. E. N.

PATHOS.

Sir, — May I venture to call attention to
two lines in "King Lear" which to me never
seem to lose their deep pathos ? Of course,
like the lines quoted in your last issue from
the same play, they must be read with the
whole burden of sadness borne in mind.
But even apart from their context, they
have a strange hold on the heart. These
are the words, spoken by Kent :

" I have a journey, sir, shortly to go ;
My Master calls me, I must not say no."

With these lines I cannot help comparing
the following from that wonderful passage
in Epictetus, wherein life is compared to a
voyage :

"But if the Master call, run to the ship,
forsaking all those things, and looking not
behind. And if thou be in old age, go not
far from the ship at any time, lest the Mastt-r
Bhuuld call, and thou be not ready."

The third reference is obvious.

Is there, may I ask, any reason why
certain lines misquoted from " A Blot in the
'Scutcheon " should have been attributed to
Dr. Berdoe? And, in any case, are not these
lines, also from Act II. of Browning's
tragedy, far more pathetic than those given?

" I say,
Each night ere I lie down, ' I was so young —
I had no mother, and I loved him so ! '
And then God seems indulgent, and I dare
Trust him my soul in sleep."

— Faithfully yours,

Ernest E. Speight.
Temple House: Feb. 11.

[Dr. Berdoe's name, of course, appeared
by an oversight ; he was the sender (to the
Pall Mall Gazette), not the author, of the
lines in question.]

Sir, — In your admirable selection from
those sent to the Pall Mall Gazette in
January, 1894, I note that you have over-
looked one of the last couplets sent in, but
certainly one that, in my opinion, has the

justest claim to the title. It comes from
Eudyard Kipling's " Gentlemen Rankers " :

" We have done with hope and honour, we are
lost to love and truth,
We are dropping down the ladder rung by
rung."
— Faithfully yours,

DE V. Payen-Payne.
7, Spenser Mansions.

'JULIUS C^SAE" AT
HAYMAEKET.

THE

At the moment of going to press we have
received a letter from Mr. Beerbohm Tree,
dealing with Mr. Hankin's letter, entitled
" Some Ee-narks on Julius Csesar," which
we printed in our issue of February .5 We
shall print Mr. Tree's letter next week.

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.
„ , . Mr. W. L. Courtney, writing

" The Confession ..,717//,; i

of Stephen in the JJaUy lelegraph, says :

Wkapshare." By
Emma Brooke. " There are certain character-
istics which appear to cling
obstinately to all Miss Brooke's workmanship.
iShe does not care for the ordinary sympathetic
figures of romance ; so far as she is coocerned,
the pleasure aroused by a well-constructed
story leaves her cold. She does her best to dig
deep in the soil of psychology, to delineate
personages of exceptional and eccentric traits ;
to shock us with strong emotions, and produce
her effects not so much by her knowledge of
literary technique as by sudden and violent
appeals to melodramatic passions. And yet
through all her work runs a strong and refresh-
ing vein of originality both in her theme and
its execution which arrests our attention some-
times aganst our will, and excites an interest
in her tale which is often somewhat grudgingly
and unwillingly bestowed. It we begin to
read The GonfeMion of Stephen Whapshare, the
chances are that we shall not lay down the
book before the closing page. Whether the
final rejult of this perusal be a feeling of satis-
faction or an uncontrollable impulse of repug-
nance depends on the temperament of the
reader."

Mr. Courtney thinks the author

"wiU. 'go far,' doubtless, for amongst other
gifts she possesses a grave and cultured style ;
but for the present, at all events, she has not
attained the summit of her literary ambition."

The Datli/ News critic also defines Miss
Brooke's mitier :

" Miss Emma Brooke unites to a strong sense
of the claims of the passionate and sensuous
sides of human nature a curious strain of mysti-
cism. Her philosophy of life makes her see
man so ill-adapted to the conditions of this
world ' that he must sin.' And as he is tor-
tured with the consciousness of sin, to which
he is foreordained, he is driven by an impera-
tive necessity to strive for perfection. Evil and
good seem to her so closely allied, so inter-
dependent, that it is impossible to separate the
share each plays in the forming of the spirit to
noble ends. Her new book. The Confession of
Stephen Whapshare, is the story of a mail
vigorous of body and soul married to a woman
who is a physical and spiritual valetudinarian.
How her hero stumbles into the meshes of this
monstrous marriage, how long he is held
captive therein, and how he violently cuts
asunder the toils that bind him, is told in a
manner that is not always convincing, but that

is arresting, and has in it much that is fine and
subtle."

The Scotsman is very sarcastic on the
author's gospel —

" the conspicuous feature of which is its com-
plete divorce from common sense and healthy
ways of thinking. ... It is not worth while
to try to expound the mystic gospel based on
this narrative. We seem to reach the height
or the depth of it in Stephen's great thought
that Christ was really God, and that He camo
into the world to expiate not only the sins of
His creatures, but His own supreme sin in
making such a mess of their creation. Thus
reconciliation becomes possible ; the creatures
forgive their Creator, who also forgives them ;
and so even the man who gets sick of hit
invalid wife and poisons her finds salv*tion and
gets into beautiful harmony with the divine
order of the universe."

.. ^^ . V . Tins has been recognised as

* Det,orah of . o

rod's." By Mrs. a ciever story, thougli or
"Sure.'* different grounds by differeni
critics. Literature denies tht
story originality, and says sharpl3': "Oni
wonders how it is that novelists will no
take the advice of a good critic, who advisei
them to secure at all hazards the palm 0
originality." The 8peaker''s critic, on thi
other hand, says : " Deborah is .strikingl;
original, and all the more attractive beeaus'
of her originality'." But the review ii
Literature is pithy, and the writer takes th
book as a text for some sound criticism oi
the modem novel. He writes :

" In these sorry days of machine-made flctior
one is glad to find a novel which shows th
smallest traces of design. The utter incapadt
of modern novelists is not, jierhaps, generall
recognised ; we make allowances, and talk (
' good dialog^ie ' and ' bright pages ' withon
expecting to find traces of a plan, of an artiati
design deliberately worked out. To put tli
matter in the briefest form, we do not regar
or criticise the novel as a work of art. If w
find a sufficiency of amusing chatter, and if tl
incidents are not absolutely absurd, we cloi
our book in a complacent humour, and say »
have read a good novel.

Mrs. de la Pasture is, therefore, to be praise
in that she has had an ideal before her in tl
writing of her book. The scheme is trite, »r
the execution, though skilful and competent i
its way, is far from brilliant, and from the fir
page to the last one may search in vaia fi
admirable or ringing jjhrases. Yet a certai
effect h4s been produced, and, in spite
' the rich red earth, luxuriant vegetation, ai
emerald pastures of Devonshire,' in spite
such anc ent consecrated epithets, the auth
does contrive to give us an impression of t!
lonely farm upon the lonely hills, of the see
of the crimson ploughlands, and of the d©
blossoming orchards. And the contrasts of t'
book are thoroughly realised ; we feel wi
Deborah when she breathes the faint and mas
air of the London house, remembering the bra
winds of Devonshire ; the country life is bare
indicated, and yet, with Deborah, we long i
the people on the hills, amidst the fatuities a
ineptitudes of men and women who wish to
' smart.' It is a book of considerable promii
and, if the author would study the great see)
of style, she might do excellent work."

The Daily Telegraph says: ^^ Deborah
Tod's is the not very attractive title of
really clever and interesting book." A
are not sure that Dehorah of Tod's is
unattractive title. It is distinctive, a
rouses some curiosity. It also fits the boi

Fbb. 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

215

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, February 17.
THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

IlfTERPRETATlONS OP LlFE AND RELIGION. By Walton W. Batter-
shall, D.D. Hodder & Stoughton.

Apostolical Succession in the Light of History and Fact. By
John Brown, B.A., D.D. Congregational Union.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

Renaissance in Italy. By John Addington Symonds. New editions :

Parts I. and II. Smith, Elder & Co. 15s.
The Battle of Sheriffmuik : Related from Original Sources.

By an F.S.A. (Soot.). Eneas Mackay (Stirling).
The Highlands of Scotland in 1750. With an Introduction by

Andrew Lang. Blackwood & Sons.
AuLi) Lang Syne. By the Rt. Hon. Prof. F. Max Miiller. Longmans,

Green & Co. lOi. 6d.
Australia's First Preacher: the Rev. Richard Johnson. By

James Bonwick, F.R.G.S. Sampson Low.
The Century Science Series : Pasteur. By Percy Frankland

and Mrs. Percy Frankland. Cassell & Co. 3s. 6d.
Memoirs of a Highland Lady. Edited by Lady Strachey. John

Murray. 10s, Gd.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRES.

The Development of Australian Literature. By Henry Gyles

Turner and Alexander Sutherland. Longmans, Green & Co. os.
To be Read at Dusk, and Other Stories, Sketches, and Essays.

By Charles Dickens. Now first collected. George Red way. lit.
A Literary History of India. By R. W. Frazor, LL.B. T. Fisher

Unwin. 16s.
The Princess and the Butterfly and the Fantastics : a Comedy.

By Arthur W. Pinero. William Heinemann.
The Women of Homer. By Walter Copland Perry. William

Heinemann.
Spikenard : a Book of Devotional Love-Poems. By Laurence

Housman. Grant Richards. 3s. (id.
Charles Dickens: a Critical Study. By George Gissing. Blackie

& Son. 2a. 6d.
The Temple Waverley Novels : The Black Dwarf. By Sir Walter

Scott, Bart. J. M. Dent & Co. Is. 6d.
Alamo, and Other Verses. Anonymous. Edward McQ. Gray

(Florence, New Mexico).

4t TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

Bhe Kingdom of the Yellow Robe : being Sketches of the
Domestic and Religious Rites and Ceremonies of the Si.\mese.
I By Ernest Young. Archibald Constable & Co. 15s.
Storm and Sunshine in the Dales. By P. H. Lockwood. With a
Preface by H. G. Hart. ElHot Stock. 38.

The Adventure Series.

Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp,
LATE Lieuten.vnt IN His MAJESTY'S 8Tth Regiment. Written
by Himself. Third edition. T. Fisher Unwiu. ;U. 6d.

l'he Ix)g of a Jack Tar ; or, the Life of James Choyce, Master
Mariner. Popular edition. T. Fisher Unwin. 3s. 6d.

'he Buccaneers and Marooners of America. E ited by Howard
Pyle. Popular edition. T. Fisher Unwin. 3s. Od.

Jadaoascar ; or, Robert Drury's Journal During Fifteen Years'
Captivity on that Island. Edited, with an Introduction and
Notes, by Capt. Pashfield Oliver, R.A. T. Fisher Unwin. 3s. fid.

'he Voyages and Adventures of Ferdinand Mendez Pinto, the
Portuguese. Translated by Hemy Cogan. Introduction by
Arminius Vambery. Popular edition. T. Fisher Unwin. 3s. fid.

-Dventures of a Younger Sox. By Edward John Trelawny.

I Popular edition. T. Fisher Unwiu. 3s. fid.

JUVENILE BOOKS.

HE Lost Plum Cake: a Tale for Tiny Boys. By E. G. Wilcox.
Macmillan & Co.

EDUCATIONAL.

AHAPHRASINO, ANALYSIS, AND CORRECTION OF SENTENCES. By

D. M. J. James, M.A. Lower German Reading. By Louis
Lubovius. Higher Latin Unseens. By H. W. Auden. Greek
Verse Unseens. By T. R. Mills. Wm. Blackwood & Sons.

NOLisH Grammau, Past and Present. By J. C. Nesfleld. Mac-
millan & Co. 4s. fid.

Fuurth Edition now ready, largely Revised,

POEMS.

With which is Incorporated "Christ in Hades."

By STEPHEN PHILLIPS.

Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. net.

THE BOOK OF THE YEAR 1897.

To Mr. Stephen Phillips has been awarded by the
Proprietor of "The Academy" a premium of
One Hundred Guineas, in accordance with his
previously proclaimed intention of making that
gift to the writer of the book which should be
adjudged worthy to be "crowned" as the most
important contribution to the literature of 1897.

' The accent here ia unmistakable, it is the accent of a new and a true poet.
These poems are marked by simplicity, sincerity, and spontaneity. A poet of
whom this may be s.iid with truth has passed tlie line which divides talent from
I enius, the true singer from the accomplished artist or imitator. He has taken
his place, wherever that place may be, among authentic poets. It may be safely
■aid that no poet has made his debut with a volume which is at once of such
t xtraordiuary merit and so rich in promise."

llr. J. Churton Collins, in Pall Mall Gautie.

" Mr. Phillips is a poet, one of the half-dozen men of the younger generation
tthose writings contain the indefinable tjuality «hich makes tor peroianence."

Timei.

"The man who, with a few graphic tenches, can call up for us images like
these, in such decisive and masterly fashion, is not one to be rated with the
I omraon herd, but rather as a man from whom we have the right to expect here-
aCter some of the great things which will eudure."

Mr. W. L. Courtney, in Saili/ Telegraph.

" In his new volume Mr. Stephen Phillips more than fulfils the promise made
by his ' Christ in Hades ' ; here is real poetic achievement — the veritable gold
of song." — Spectator.

JOHN LANE, The Bodley Head, Vigo Street, Loudon, W.

IMPORTANT NOTICE.

On February 2\st will he published
ANTHONY HOPE'S new His-
torical Newel, "SIMON DALE,"
with 8 Illustrations J crown Svo, 6s.

THE FIRST EDITION OF "THE VINTAGE" HAVING BEEN
EXHAUSTED, A SECOND EDITION IS IN THE PRESS.

THE VINTAGE. By E. F. Benson,

Author of "Dodo." Illustrated by G. P. Jacomb-Hood.
Crown Svo, 6s.

' ' The leading characters stand out, and the love story is told with eharm
and delicacy." — fFeatmin»ter Gazette.

"An exce'lont jiece of romantic literature: a very graceful and moving
story. We are struck with the close observation of life in Greece."

Saturday Review.

" A sound historical novel: Mr. Benson is to be heartily congratulated."

Olatgow Herald.

" The book is full of vivid detail, and everywhere adorned with bright patches
of local colour." — Daily Telegraph.

"A. work of marked ability." — Seottman.

A VOYAGE OF CONSOLATION.

By SARA JEANETTE DUNCAN, Author of "An
American Girl in London." Illustrated. Crown Svo, Ga.

IFeb. 25.

METHUEN & CO., 86, Essex Street, W.C.

216

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 19, 1898.

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THE ACADEMY.

221

CONTENTS.

Reviews :

Mr. Bodley's France

MaiTUH Aureliua to Himself

The Wild Route to Klondike

The Two Duchesaes

Dogmatisms

The Friend of Bnms and Beethoven

Briefer Mention

Fiction Supplement

Notes and News

A Ballad of Reading Gaol

Kducation for the Civil Service of India : II., The

Training of Selected Candidates

The Week

The Book Market

Drama

CofiEESPONDENCR ..

Book Reviews Reviewed

Books Received

Page
. 221

... 223

... 225

... 226

... 227

... 228
229—232

... 233

... 236

237
238

240
242

REVIEWS.

ME. BODLEY'S " FEANCE."

France. By John Edward Courtenay
Bodley. (Macmillan & Co.)

IT would be impossible to exaggerate the
importance of such a book as Mr. Bod-
ley's admirable study of France since the
Eevolution. The book has the three essential
qualities of a foreigner's study of another
land than his own : sympathy ; varied and
accurate knowledge of his subject ; and
moderation in praise and blame. A juster
view of France does not exist in English ; a
fuller and more competent treatment of such
a complex and aboundingly interesting sub-
ject has never been given us. The tale
might be told more brilliantly, for Mr.
Bodley has no pretensions as an artist, but it
could not be told more decorously. What
may remain to be said upon the political
situation of France to-day is not worth
saying, so lucid and satisfactory is the
author's statement of so complicated and
tenebrous a matter. There are two kinds
of foreign observers we should not wholly
trust : the enthusiastic stranger who hastens
to adopt an alien nationality and qualify
everything about it with an indiscriminate
fervour ; and the stranger who comes abroad
prepared to find everything either a matter
of grotesque joke or immoral eccentricity.
I To judge our neighbours well and wisely
we must equally eschew the spirit of rapture,
of mockery, and of iU-humour, for all these
lead us into errors more grotesque than those
I which foreign perversity may lead us to
; deplore. Mr. Bodley, by reason of common-
I sense, fair judgment, and honest sympathy,
lis honourably free from these tainte.
I The liberality of his views may be
gathered from the fact that he appears to
ladmire with the same hearty feeling of
jfriendship M. de Mun and Taine, Renan
Und M. d'Hulst, M. d'HaussonvUle and
[M. Ludovic Halevy, his brilliant neighbour
jin Brie, all as diverse, socially, intellec-
jtuaUy, and politically, as it is possible for
^y six men of the same nationality to be.
It is this very largeness of conviction that
•?ives such value to his book. In his
quality of stranger he has not been obliged

to confine himself to any party, any clique,
any caste. Such diversity of relations,
above all in the present strenuous and
blatant mood of Paris, would be impossible
for a native to maintain. You must belong
to one camp or the other, bound by an in-
violate, if unwritten, law to shout your vilest
in belabouring the opposite party, and
should both chance to meet on common
ground the air suddenly becomes more
frozen than that of the Arctic Pole. Only
a foreigner may dare express a modest
opinion and humbly sue for enlightenment
without the immediate fear of being rent or
"spumed." Here the fast-vanishing tradi-
tion of French courtesy comes to his aid.
It is counted part of his picturesqueness to
walk tranquilly from one camp to the other
with a friendly smile and a candid hand-
shake, and "argue the question" without
offence. His very rashness — quality dear
to a dashing race — procures him immunity ;
and if behave good manners and intelligence,
of which Mr. Bodley furnishes abundant
proof in these two weighty volumes, he is
sure to be welcome, however singularly free
from bitter prejudice his views.

On the increasing degradation of Paris
as a mere cosmopolitan centre Mr. Bodley
writes :

" It is mortif3dng to a patriotic Frenchman,
who by his talent maintains the renown of his
nation, to see his beloved Paris, with all its
past tradition and present capacity, assuming
the aspe3t of a cosmopolitan city of pleasure,
and becoming in the eyes of strangers a place
like Nice or such-like resort of idlers, where the
foreign element leads the fashion, and where
the affairs of the country interest no one. For
the most conspicuous Parisians, whose exploits
are most widely advertised, proclaim that,
apart from their lighter relaxations, their
gravest ambition is to vie with exotic foreigners
in diversions imported from England. Thus
accomplished Frenchmen, who would have
shone in salons, lament that Paris is becoming
an international casino — a sad fate for the
brilliant city in which, save in the darkest
hours of the Revolution, for over two hundred
years, from the time of the Hotel Eambouillet
to the death of M. Thiers, the intelUgent com-
merce of refined men and women had a distinct
influence on the history of Prance and on its
place in the world."

Here Mr. Bodley touches the great sore.
To-day the nobles of Fran '.e constitute the
unintelligent part of the community. You
need only read Gyp's sparkling study of
society to measure their intellectual decay.
They may not be quite so improper as their
novelists portray them, but everything about
us furnishes us with complete evidence that
they are every bit as inane. The older
generation, since that gallant figure of
soldier and scholar, the Due d'Aumale,
produced such adorning personalities as
MM. de Mun, d'HaussonviUe, and de
Vogue. But to-day not a single noble of
our own generation gives promise by pen
or word. The class contents itself with
setting an ignoble example to the country,
and furnishing copy to the pornographic
novelists of the hour. Prom the good-
natured, if mordant, levity of Gyp
to the blighting cynicism of Henri
Lavedan, a bourgeois outsider whom it
honours with its confidence, it has a formid-
able host of diffamers and judges to answer:

and, so far, it has not lifted a single note
of complaint, or striven to revive the old
tradition of aristocratic intellect that gave
Paris its prestige in Europe.

With unsentimental accuracy the author
reduces the glittering legend of the Eevolu-
tion to its just value. Imagination has
for so long been fed upon its false glory,
that we have never known that the Bastille
was taken for the sake of a few miserable
culprits who more than merited their fate.
Indeed, most of our historic illusions are
based ujion legends, either, if coldly ex-
amined, in themselves reprehensible, or
unjustified by a particle of foundation.
But, on the other hand, he is, perhaps,
unduly lenient to the Napoleonic legend.
But this is part of his laudable moderation.
Though a shrewd observer of the endless
deficiencies of the French political machinery,
Mr. Bodley has no word of excessive blame
for any period of its developments. One
sees that any other period seems to him
better than to-day's because of its confusion
and widespread mediocrity. And in a
measure this is a safe view. Not that
tyranny, accompanied even by a Bonaparte's
genius, is to be preferred to the pacific
reign of mediocrity, but the contemplation
of the latter-day stage of French politics
and its deplorable Parliamentary system is
a thing to stupefy the very angel of dis-
order, and drive a sage to desperation.
Nothing could be more painstaking, a more
excellent study of this sorry subject than
Mr. Bodley's. Those whom the conflicting
reports of the Press and the bewildering
succession of unexplained ministries and
party nomenclature leave muddled, will do
well to read him, and gather clear and
definite information upon such hazy ques-
tions as Parliamentary procedure, the com-
position of the Chamber, the Senate, the
electoral system, ministries and parties.
The reading wiU not make them cheerful or
give them an exalted notion of the aptitude
of the French minds for politics, nor will it
convince them that the Eepublic method of
government is the most virtuous ; but it
will send them to the Chamber of Deputies,
warranted not to lose their heads amid
its fathomless complications. The Senate
he aptly describes as giving the idea

"of a retreat for elderiy men of education,
whose faculties are undimmed, and whose
favourite pastime is to meet in a debating
society to recite to one another essays on
abstract, legal or historical questions, with an
occasional reference to topics of the hour."

Turning to more agreeable features in the
life of modern France than bigoted re-
actionaries and intolerant anti-clericals, Mr.
Bodley well remarks that

" the Uves of French women of the imoccupied
upper class are often in admirable contrast to
those of the men. Their virtues are of the type
usually attributed to the women of the bour-
geoisie. They are devoted mothers, excellent
housewives, and patterns of piety. _ The orderli-
ness of their existence and their virile qualities
counteract the undisciplined or aimless example
of their husbands ; and in many a household in
the decorative section of society the woman is
the superior, morally and mentally, of her
lord."
How true this is, in all its significance of

222

I^HE ACAt)EMt.

[I'eb. 26, 1898.

Btatement, can only be felt and understood
by foreigners who have dwelt long enough
in France on a footing of such intimacy
with the people as permits of opportunity to
form an opinion of value. The natural
intelligence and worth of Frenchwomen of
all classes are extraordinary, are such that
we are constrained to believe that their
presence in that pandemonium of corruption
and strife, the political arena, would even
serve to cleanse and lower the bedlamite
note of intolerance and futile passion.
Again he notes a striking feature.

" An agreeable companion of a railway
journey, who in admirable language discoiu'ses
on the European tituation or on art and
literature, may turn out to be a person of such
social surroundings that an Englishman of
corresponding situation would express himself
crudely on tSose subjects, and with, unrefined
pronunciation or accent. Such an experience is
an example of the truth that civilisation
descends lower in the French nation than in
ours."

An experienced French priest who had lived
long in London tells him that he remarked
the same difference in speech and idea
between the French young girl and her
British sister in the confessional box :
the French girl coming with clear and
precise ideas clothed in cultivated language,
her mental survey in perfect order; the
English girl vague, incoherent, without any
notion of method or form of speech. Speak-
ing generally, this is a very good definition
of the essential difierence between the sex
of both races.

Not only does Mr. Bodley give full in-
formation upon the ballot, the franchise, the
civil service expenditure, the payment of
members and ministers, but he shows us in
every path how superior the nation is to its
government. All over the country, with which
he has become so thoroughly familiar, in the
course of eight years of diligent observation,
he has ever found complete indifference to
its politicians. A minister once complained
to M. Claretie that while mention is con-
tinually made of authors, painters, actors, and
fashionable personalities in his Vie d Paris,
there is never an allusion to politics or
politicians. This omission perfectly reflects
the attitude of all France to its squabbling
rulers. In England politicians carry their
glory along with them everywhere ; here it
is the actors and authors, poets and painters,
who provoke personal enthusiasm and
excitement along their favoured path.

Mr. Bodley, without satire or ill-nature,
pricks his pen in the Eepublican legend,
I^ainted over every building " Liberty,
Equality, and Fraternity," and discovers its
hoUowness. Indeed, the fraternity, as
exemplified to-day in the affaire hreyfus
has not changed much from the day
Mettemich said : " Fraternity, as it is
practised in France, haa led me to the
conclusion that if I had a brother I
would call him my cousin." In most
things tie nation is superior to its
political pretensions, but not in any one
of these three claims. Liberty in France
does not exist in principle any more now
than in centuries gone by. Every man who
\rear8 a uniform is by nature and instinct
B deppot. Public and private sohools, like

the army and every other institution, are
centres of inane and unintelligent tyranny.
Equality is merely the desire of the lower
to be the equal of the higher, with the fixed
design to keep his own inferior his inferior
still. Titles were never so rife under any
monarchy, wealth in France never so
vulgarly worshipped. As for fraternity,
ask the Jews what they think of the
fraternity practised in France to-day.

Mr. Bodley 's faith in France's future lies
in the appearance of another master, a
modified First Consul, to guide her with a
firm but implacable hand out of present
scandal and disorder. But he sees no
indication of the master in any present
party. He himself has proved an admir-
able guide through the difl&culties that
beset the student of her latter-day history.

MAECU8 AUEELIUS TO HIMSELF.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus to Himself. By
Gerald H. EendaU, M.A., LL.D. (Mac-
millan & Co.)

It is a pleasant coincidence by which
this fine and scholarly work upon Marcus
Aurelius follows hard upon Dr. Eendall's
appointment to the headmastership of
Charterhouse. The modem schoolmaster
is, as a ride, too busy a man to write
books ; but it is as weU that he should at
least have written them ; should have ack-
nowledged the tradition, made his bow to
letters. Nor could a more fitting subject
than the great Stoic moralist occupy the
thoughts of one whose own influence upon
the character of a generation of Englishmen
is, in all probability, destined to be pro-
found. The noblest of pagan teachers, we
might have added, should be an excellent
model for one who has proved an exception
to the almost universal clerical monopoly
of head-masterships, but on this topic the
announcement that Dr. Eendall intends,
after aU, to take orders dries our pen.

About half the book consists., of a new
English version, the last of many, of the
famous Meditations. To this is prefixed an
elaborate essay, in which Dr. EendaU dis-
cusses in great detail the origin, develop-
ment and doctrine of Stoicism, proceeding
from this to a study of the finest expression
which the school found in Marcus Aurelius
himself, and of the remarkable and attractive
personality which is revealed in his
writing. This introduction is good from
beginning to end, but it is the closing
sections, biographical and critical rather
than speculative, which awake the pro-
foundest interest in the reader, even as, in-
deed, they seem to have sprung from the
deepest enthusiasm in the writer. Of all the
Greek philosophies, Stoicism was the one
which most nearly approached the dignity
of a religion. Certainly it was more than
a mere set — more or less consistent — of in-
tellectually apprehended tenets : it made
its appeal to the soul and the heart, as well
as to the brain; sought to direct the con-
science, to answer the obstinate questionings
of personality, even in some measure to heal
the broken-hearted and succour the afflicted

of spirit. And it is in Marcus Aurelius that
this more intimate practical side of Stoicism
becomes most prominent. Dr. Eendall well
points out that in his book we have some-
thing very difEerent from the rhetorical
exercises of Seneca, or even of Epictetus.
The Meditations are written "to himself":
they are private jottings, the stored-up
wisdom of an old man weary with the
burden of a tottering empire, noting down
just what seems to him to be most worthy
of noting : his final criticism of life, in the
solitude of the throne, or in his lonely tent
"At Camuntum," or "Among the Quadi."
And the truth of what he has to say is
largely independent of its relation to the
formal Stoic doctrine. There is no set treatise ;
but you may find sudden intuitions, flashes
and sidelights of wisdom, which are as wise
now as they were sixteen centuries ago,
because they were learnt not in the schools,
but in the bitter apprehension of life itself.

Let us then first learn from Dr. Eendall
what manner of person Marcus Aurelius was.
As an emperor he was the last and greatest
of the Antonines, that princely house which
stood between decadent Eome and retribu-
tion, and staved off the debacle " till Western
civilisation was Christian, and safe." As a
man, his simple laborious life stands out
in sharp relief against the Nero and the
Caligula whom the earlier empire had
known :

" The chroniclers teU us that ' from chUdhood
he was of a serious cast ' ; that his demeanour
was that of ' a courteous gentleman, modest
yet strenuous, grave but afifable ' ; that he
'never changed his countenance for grief or
gladness.' His bodily health was weakly from
the first, and strained by overwork ; notwith-
btanding scrupulous care it was a constant
soiu'ce of suffering and disablement, and in
later life power of digestion and sleep wholly
gave way. His private bearing and menage
were of extreme simplicity. As Ciesar, he
Avould receive at |his small private house in
ordinary citizen attire ; abroad he wore plain
woollen stuffs, and when not in attendance on
the emperor would dispense entirely with suite
or outrunners. In family relations he loved his
mother and his children dearly, and grieved
deeply at their loss ; he condoned the faults of
Lucius Verus, and in mourning remembered
none of the mortal frailties of Faustina."

His rule was at once just and clement.
He set up a temple of "Beneficence," and
did his best to realise the Stoic ideal of
world- citizenship. He strove and struggled
for the empire, to strengthen its borders,
and to shore up its ruining centre ; but his
own lot was pathos and disappointment and
disillusion. His portrait is drawn by Julian,
amongst those of the Crosars, as of one
" very grave, his eyes and features drawn
somewhat with hard toils, and his body
luminous and transparent with abstemious-
ness from food." He had some need of
philosophy.

" To stand well-nigh single-handed for reason
and for right, to work with worthless instru-
ments ; to withhold vain interference and cor-
rection ; to let second-bests alone ; to sUence
scruples and endure compromise ; to crave for
peace and spend his years in hunting down
Sarmatians ; to preside at the tediotis butchery
of gladiatorial games with the heart that cried,
'How long, how long?' to turn forgiving
eyes and unreproachful lips upon the perilous

Feb. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

223

debaucheries of Luuius, and the frailties of
Faustina ; to live friendless and exiled for his
people's sake ; to cling to the belief in reason
and just dealing against the day-by-day experi-
ence of unreason, violence, and greed ; patiently,
resolutely irtx*"^'" *"' iir^x*"*"' : ' to endure and
to refrain ' ; to exhaust body and soul in the
long effort to save Eome ; and in return for all
this to partake always ' the king's portion
—well-doing, LU. report'; to be isolated,
thwarted, maligned, and misinterpreted — this
was no light bearing of the cross."

To attempt to sum up the gospel of Marcus
Aurelius in a formula is, of course, mis-
leading. You do not 80 learn what any
great moralist has to teach. Become rather
his companion, study his ways of thought,
note his bearing towards individual points
of conduct as they arise ; absorb, appropriate
his personality — so shall you be the true dis-
ciple. But do not be content with formulating
him, for surely he is more than his creed.
Two leading features, however, of the
Aurelian discipline one may legitimately
define. Veracity of intellect, detachment
of will ; on these he is not weary of in-
sisting. Determine yourself to see things
frankly, as they are, stripped of every
illusion, sensual or sentimental. Facts
cannot be turned aside ; better to look them
in the face, than to wrap them up or lie
about them. And knowing them, know
their nothingness, how powerless they are
to approach or affect the central thing —
yourself. Rigid fate is law of the universe,
but then you are you : it is in your hands to
dispose of yourself ; to see and accept fate,
and by submission to overcome it. It is
the philosophy of the strong man armed,
keeping his goods — that is, his soul is a
philosophy tonic, in these latter days, not
only for its bracing of the spiritual nerves,
but for its " revaluation of values," its
contemptuous weighing and dismissal of the
prized " external goods." In the light, then,
of these principles, let us venture to string
together some typical apothegms of the
sage :

" In brief, things of the body are but a stream
that flows, things of the soul a dream and
vapour ; life, a warfare and a sojourning ; and
after-tame, oblivion."

"Men seek retirement in country house, ou
shore or hill; and you, too, know full well
what that yearning means. Surely a very
simple wish ; for at what hour you wiU you
can retire into yourself."

"That from such and such caures given effects,
result is inevitable ; he who would not have it
80, would have the fig-tree yield no juice."

One recalls Bishop Butler, who thus, or
nearly thus, puts the same thought :
"Things are what they are, and the con-
sequences -will be what they wiU be ; why,
then, should we be deceived ? "

" All is fruit for me, which thy seasons bear,
0 Nature ; from thee, in thee, and unto thee
are all things, ' Dear City of Cecrops ! ' saith
the poet : and wilt not thou say, ' Dear City of
God'?" '

_ "A mimic pageant, a stage spectacle, flock-
mg sheep and herding cows, an armed brawl, a
bone flimg to curs, a crumb dropped in the fish
tanks, toiling of burdened ants, the scamper
of the scurrying mice, puppets pulled with
strings — such is fife."

" A scowl upon the face is a violation of
nature. Kepeated often, beauty dies with it.

and finally becomes quenched, past all re-
kindling,"

" Life is more like wrestling than dancing ;
it must be ready to keep its feet against all
onsets, however unexpected."

"This is the way of salvation — to look
thoroughly into everything and see what it
really is, abke in matter and in cause ; with
your own heart to do what is just and say what
is true; and one thing more, to find life's
fruition in heaping good on good so close]^that
not a chink is left between."

There is, of course, as Dr. RendaU points
out, a characteristic paradox and defect of
Stoicism in the rigid demarcation of the self
from all the impulses, appetites, and affec-
tions that really go to make up self. For
Marcus Aurelius, morality is not a wise
gathering among these, but a sweeping
denial of [them all. He makes as stem a
bugbear of his Duty as any Puritan of his
Sin. Therefore his ideal is one merely of
endurance, his outlook profoundly melan-
choly, lit only by the distant vision of "the
sunset splendid and serene — death." For
the gaiety of temper, turning duty itself to
favour and to prettiness, which is the mark
of some of the greatest teachers, from Plato
to St. Francis, we scrutinise in vain. Marcus
Aurelius wiU not scowl, but he cannot smile.

A few words, in conclusion, are due to
Dr. Eendall's translation. It seems to us
an excellent one, scholarly, dignified, and
instinct with fine literary sense, happily
hitting the mean between the pedantries of
Long and the lax raciness of Jeremy Collier.
Matthew Arnold made a test for Dr. Kendall's
predecessors of the bit about early rising
at the beginning of the fifth book of the
Meditations. Let Dr. Eendall endure the
same comparison. This is Long :

" In the morning, when thou risest un-
willingly, let this thought be present : ' I am
rising to the work of a human being. Why,
then, am I dissatisfied if I am going to do the
things for which I exist and for which I was
brought into the world ? Or have I been made
for this, to lie in the bedclothes and keep my-
self warm ? But this is more pleasant.' Dost
thou exist, then, to take thy pleasure, and not at
all for action or exertion ? "

The strict second person singular is surely
intolerable to modem ears. This is Jeremy
Collier, whose version Long called " a most
coarse and vulgar copy of the original " :

"When you find an unwillingness to rise
early in the morning, make this short speech
to yourself ; ' I am getting up now to do the
business of a man, and am I out of humour for
going about that which I was made for, and
for the sake of which I was sent into the world ?
Was I, then, designed for nothing but to doze
and batten beneath the counterpane ? I thought
action had been ihe end of your being.' "

" Doze and batten " is good, and should
soften even Mr. Charles Whibley's heart
towards Jeremy Collier. Also it suggests
George Herbert's lines :

" O foolish man I where are thine eyes P
How hast thou lost them in a crowd of cares !

Thou pull'st the rug and wilt not rise.
No, not to purchase the whole pack of stars .
There let them shine.
Thou must go sleep or dine."

Finally, this is Dr. Eendall :

" In the morning, when you feel loth to rise,
fall back u j ou the thought, ' I am rising for

man's work. Why make a grievance of setting
about that for which I was bom, and for sak"
of which I have been brought mto the world ?
Is the end of my existence to lie snug in the
blankets and keep warm ? ' ' It is more pleasant
so.' ' Is it for pleasure you were made Y — not
for doing, and for action ? ' "

The general resemblance is more to Long,
and, indeed, to the Greek, than to Collier;
but the " you " for " thou " and the absence
of "dost" are distinct gains, while the terse
vigour of "loth to rise " and " snug in the
blankets " catches something which Long
misses.

THE WILD EOUTE TO KLONDIKE.

Through the Gold Fields of Alaska to Bering
Straits. By Harry de Windt, F.E.G.S.
(Chatto & AVindus.)

Mb. de Windt has had the skill or good
fortune to convert failure into success. In
the early summer of 1896 he started to carry
out the singular project of journeying from
New York to Paris by land, his idea being
to get first to Juneau by way of British
Coliunbia, then across the now famous
Chilcoot Pass to the lakes at the head of
the great Yukon river, down the Yukon to
Fort St. Michael on the Bering Sea, across
the Straits on ice to Anadyrsk in Siberia,
next to Irkoutsk, and so back to the world of
road and rail. He did not succeed in carrying
outthescheme; but he travelled the wild route
to Klondike before the gold seekers tested
its difficulty, he worked his way through
Alaska, and he claims that he and his
servant were the first Europeans " to reside
for any length of time alone and unprotected
among the Tchuktchis of Siberia." The
adventures he met with form the material of
a most fascinating but gruesome book of
travels.

Crossing the Chilcoot would of itself be
considered a notable undertaking even in
Switzerland and with the aid of guides,
ropes, and ice-axes. It took the party two
hours to ascend a thousand fret, and here is
the author's description of the final climb :

" The last 300 fe«t was like scaling the walls
of a house. With ropes and proper appliances
the passage of this mountain could be made far
easier; but it was imder the circumstances
such exhausting, heartbreaking work, that I
more than once had serious thoughts of turning
back. Finally, however, at about 4 A.M., wo
stood on the summit, breathless, bleeding and
ragged, but safe. My aneroid gave the altitude
at 3,620 feet above the sea level."

The descent was easier, the travellers
coasting down a distance of 500 feet in the
snow; but Mr. de Windt, after all his
experience of Borneo, Siberia, and Chinese
Tartary, describes the crossing of the Chil-
coot as the severest physical experience of
his life. Money counts for fittle when
travelling in Alaska ; and on the shores of
Lake Lindeman, he who wishes to proceed,
be he rich or poor, must set to and build
himself a boat, or rather coracle. In this
the lake is crossed, after which occur3 a
dangerous river passage, necessitating a
portage of over a mile. Lake Bennet, which
was then reached, is liable to storm?, r^e of

224

THE ACADEMY.

fFuB. 20, 1898.

which drove them on shore and caused a
miserable delay of several days in wind
and rain. The character of the succeeding
journey wUl be easily surmised from the
author's account of passing the Grand
Caiion, one party carrying the luggage
while the guide navigates it in a boat :

"Theiirst pitch is down about fifty feet of
smooth water at a steep incline, down which
the Marjorie shoots like an arrow. In less than
twenty seconds more she is dashing past us at
the rate of twenty miles an hour, but although
the little craft is as buoyant as a cork we can
see that her occupants are already sitting shin-
deep in water. Suddenly a huge breaker dashes
over the bows, and, for a moment of intense
suspense, she shivers and dwells as though
about to settle down. But another friendly
billow catches her aft and swings her forward
again. . . . Presently the terrible whirl-
pool which has been the death of so many is
reached; but the steersman is as steady as a
rock, and she nears it, passes it, and leaves it
behind her in safety, and the next moment is
lost to sight behind the protruding cliffs."

Even more dangerous are the White
Horse Eapids or Miner's Grave, which on
an average drown twenty men a year ; but
we must hasten over this part of the route
and get to the Klondike. The first hint we
obtain of the nocromancy of the gold-fields
is at the mouth of Sixty Mile, a river that
flows into the Yukon. They stopped here
for the mid-day meal, hoping to replenish
their larder ; but were themselves compelled
to part with a share of what they had.

A number of hungry miners were awaiting
the annual boat that brings the supplies for
a twelvemonth. They dined in the bare
comfortless parlour of the storekeeper, a
man in rags and gum boots. Let the author
teU the rest :

" We waited till evening and then re-
embarked to drift down to a place then known
to perhaps a score of white men, but now a
byword throughout the civilised world. ' So
long, mates,' cried the disconsolate storekeeper,
and I saw him slouch back to his dismal abode
with a feeling of pity for one whose life must
be passed amid such cheerless, desolate sur-
roundings. My pity was perhaps misplaced . . .
our dejected friend no longer relies upon the
sale of beans and bacon as a means of existence.
He is now known as ' the Klondike millionaire,'
and his name is Joseph Ladue."

An Alaska mining camp ' Mr. de Windt
compares to a bit of Shadwell or Lime-
house dropped into the midst of sylvan
scenery ; but " Thron-Duick " was still uji-
contaminated then : a residence of clean
and hospitable Indians. It] is hopeless to
attempt, within any reasonable limits, to
give an idea of Mr. de Windt' s full and
vivid exposition of this new gold country.
One story, for the truth of which he vouches,
may stand for all. When the rumour of
fabidous heaps of gold began to spread in
the United States there was working on a
Califomian fruit garden a poor man named
Berry, who managed to scrape together
eight pounds of his own and to borrow
twelve more. With twenty pounds in his
pocket he and forty companions started for
Alaska. He reached Forty MUe City alone,
some of his friends having turned back, and
the others having died on the way. His
sweetheart, Miss Ethel Bush, followed him.

They were married, and this is how they
spent their honeymoon :

" Berry and his wife were among the first to
reach Klondike. They took £26,000 from only
one of their claims. The first prospect gave
8s. and then 12s. to the pan ; and this rose
suddenly to £5 and £10 the pan. One day
Mr. and Mrs. Berry took no less than £120
from a single pan of earth. (A ' pan ' is of
sheet iron, about eighteen inches in circum-
ference and four or five inches deep.) Mrs.
Berry herself Kfted out £10,000 from her hus-
band's claim in her spare moments."

To this the following foot-note is added :

" I learn from Mrs. Ladue that Mrs. Lippy
(whose husband has a claim valued at £200,000)
and Mrs. Berry picked out of a dump £1,200
each in a few days after their arrival. They
found the metal by poking around in the dirt
with sticks."

The Mr. Lippy referred to was, as recently
as 1896, living a hand-to-mouth existence
as a day labourer in Forty Mile City. Less
enthralling than the stories of fortune-
making, of which we have given the merest
samples, but of more practical value, is the
advice with which Mr. de Windt concludes the
chapter. Alaska, as the old-timer has it, is no
" soft-snap." On the contrary, we are told
"there is probably no country in the world
so replete with discomforts and annoyances
of every kind." The yoimg and hardy and
vigorous alone, therefore, may undertake
the adventure with hope of success, and in
addition to health a capital of "at least
£300 " is needed. The best way is to go
from Liverpool to New York or Montreal,
thence by Canadian Pacific to Victoria,
B.C., whence steamers run to Jimeau and
Skagway. Those who dare to brave the
passes may start in the middle or end of
February; if they choose the sea journey,
by St. Michael, they must wait, for the
Bering Sea is closed by ice till mid-June.

" The best route into Alaska is a very vexed
question," says our author. " The White Pass
is now said to be worse than the dreaded
Chilcoot. . . . Two new routes, however, one
over the Darlton Trail, and the other vid the
Stikine Eiver and Glenora to Teslin Lake,
have been favourably reported on by Canadian
surveyors, and one of these may possibly be
opened up by the late spring of 1898."

There is no doubt but that popular in-
terest will for the moment be concentrated
on Mr. de Windt's account of the gold-fields,
and, indeed, even those who do not dream
of "Bonanzas," wiU find much that is
curious and amusing in his detailed account
of the "cities" that are but clusters of
log-huts, the charming scenery, rapidly
becoming destroyed, the mixed society of
the camps. One notable difference between
Alaska and California or New South Wales
is the admirable order that prevails, thanks,
in part, to the Canadian Mounted Police,
who, among other things, forced the women
who flock to the mines to put ofE their
bloomer costume and don the skirt and
petticoat ; thanks still more to the general
character of the people, whose sobriety and
orderliness contrast with the conduct of all
previous gold-seekers.

But when this craze is past it wiU be
discovered that the more valuable part of
the book is its history of the author's

sojourn with the extraordinary and savage
race who inhabit the Siberian shore of
the Bering Straits. Eude as they are, they
over-reached the white traveller. Mr. de
Windt got as far as Port St. Michael
in the hope of crossing on ice. There he
learned from a trading party of Tchuktchis
that the Bering Straits never are fully
frozen over — there is always an open
channel ten miles broad in the middle. He
crossed over, therefore, in the U.S. Eevenue
Cutter Bear, and on September 8, 1896, was
landed at a place called Cape Tchaplin on
the maps, but named by the natives Oum-
waidjih. His intention was to employ
natives and dog-sleds and push on to
Anadyrsk, the outermost edge of Eussian
civilisation. Koari, the man with whom he
was in treaty, vowed it was as easy as
shelling peas — " White men, plenty flour,
plenty calico, give Koari. Koari give good
dog, good sled — catch-um ten sleeps easy."
But primitive man had no intention of ful-
filling his promise. He had got the owner
of much tobacco in his power, and he began,
as soon as the Bear left, to extract all he
could from his guest while putting him off
with evasions — the fact being that he had
never so much as heard of Anadyrsk. Some
idea of what life was like may be gleaned
from the following description of the interior
of the hut where the wanderers lived :

" A thick curtain of deerskin was stretched
right across the hut, separating the living room
from the sleeping quarters. Half a dozen seal
oil lamps are kept incessantly alight here
throughout the winter. They just suifice to
accentuate the perpetual darkness, and to main-
tain, even during the coldest weather, a tem-
perature of 65° Fahr. The lamps, which diffuse
a disgusting odour, are also used for cooking
purposes. When the sleeping chamber is
crowded with naked men and women and
children (as it frequently was during the latter
part of oiu: stay) the heat becomes almost
unbearable, and the foetid odour of unwashed
humanity loathsome beyond description."

The filthiness of the people is inde-
scribable, they find out the dirtiest way
to do everything. In milking the reindeer,
for instance, "the hands are never used,
the mUk being sucked from the animal and
spat into a bowl." The most barbarous
custom surviving is that of the " kamitok,"
or killing of old men, wherein they are akin
to many ancient nations — the Germans and
Aryans for instance. In Eome the aged
were cast into the Tiber when past work.
This is how Mr. de Windt describes the
ceremony :

"The doomed one takes a lively interest in
the proceedings, and often assists in the pre-
paration for his own death. The execution
is always preceded by a feast, where se^
and walrus meat are greedily devoured and
whisky consumed till all are intoxicated. A
spontaneous burst of singing and the muffled
roll of walrus-hide drums then herald the fatal
moment. At a given signal a ring is formed
by the relations and friends, the entire setti*-
ment looking on in the background. The
executioner (usually the victim's son or brother)
then steps forward, and placing his right foot
behind the back of the condemned, slowly
strangles him to death with a walrus-thong.
A kamitok took place during the latter part of
oui- stay."

A picture of it is given, but whether from a

FbB. 26, 1898.]

THEi; ACADEMY.

325

kodak or fancy the author does not say.
Our extracts give but a slight idea of the
wonderfully fresh and vivid character of as
interesting a book of travels as has been
written these many years. It is done in a
manly, unaffected style, and the illustrations
of the greatest interest.

^^are o:

THE TWO DUCHESSES.

The T^co Biichesses : Family Correspondence
of and relating to Georgiana, Duchess of
Devonshire ; Mizabeth, Duchess of Devon-
shire; th^ Earl of Bristol {Bishop of Derry) ;
The Countess of Bristol, Lord and Lady
Byron, The Earl of Aherdeen, Sir Augustus
Foster, Bart., and others. 1777-1859.
Edited by Vere Foster. (Blackie & Co.)

This is by far the most interesting collection
of letters wliicli has been jjublished for at
least a couple of years, and also probably
the worst edited book. If Mr. Vere Foster
had seen fit to issue without notes the
collection of letters which came to him from
his grandmother, the Duchess Elizabeth —
the fifth Duke of Devonshire married twice,
and the second wife was a widow, Lady
Elizabeth Foster — there would not have
been a word to say. But as it is, while
nothing that really needs explanation re-
ceives it, there are innumerable footnotes
which simply insult the average intelligence.
Here, for instance, is the beginning of a
letter from "that travelled thane Athenian
Aberdeen" to Augustus Foster — character-
istic enough, one may observe, as expressing
the soul of a prig and of a large landed
proprietor :

" Cromarre, August 20, 1804.

" Dear Arausxrs, — I wrote you from Edin-
burgh a letter which might be called the
Lamentations of Jeremiah, so dismal were the
contents ; however, I am now rejoiced at the
intelligence that you are not to^^Colnmbize, for
I this evening received your letter after a
moimtain massacre. I do not find this country
so horrible as I imagined, or as you seem to
think, and there is a sensible pleasure at stand-
ing to look around one, and being able to see
nothing but one's own."

On this Mr. Vere Foster notes: " (1)
Cromarre : a district of Aberdeenshire on
the Dee " ; (2) mountain massacre — of
grouse." Nobody wants minute geographi-
cal information whicb can be got by a glance
at a map, and nobody suspects a sucking
premier of having in his hot youth mas-
sacred anything but grouse. It is, however,
quite possible to be in doubt about the
recondite witticism, to "Columbize," which
is merely an elegant substitute for " to go to
America." One is tempted to believe that
Mr. Foster did not make it out. Augustus
Foster did, finally, " Columbize " — as
secretary of Legation at Washing^n. He
writes, " I have at last reached this soi-disant
city, as you perceive, and am settled with
"ToujoursGai" — "ToujoursGai," notes Mr.
Foster, "a punning designation." It is only
some hundred pages further on that the
reader discovers by his unaided intelligence
that " Toujours Gai " is Foster's chief, Mr.
Merry. Where Haydn's Dictionary of Dates

or the like would help him, Mr. Foster has
been indefatigable. He gives duly in a
footnote the dates of Shakespeare's birth
and death, and tells us that Dante is Dante
Alighieri, and Titian Tiziano Vecellio. On
matters of family history he is perhaps un-
wisely reticent. His grandmother was the
daughter of Frederick Hervey, Bishop of
Derry, and Earl of Bristol. This lady
was married to Mr. Foster, a gentleman who
owned property in the north of Ireland. By
him she had two sons, but quarrels ensued
and a separation. Her too" discreet grandson
does not hint at any grounds for the
measure, and humanity is prone to suppose
the worst. But it is useless to discuss Mr.
Foster's editing ; the thing wUl have to be
done again, for there is a mass of interesting
and valuable material in this somewhat
ugly volume.

To begin with, there are the famous
Bishop's letters. Frederick Hervey was the
younger brother of the earl who married
Miss Chudleigh, and therefore brother-in-
law to the notorious Duchess of Kingston.
He became Bishop of Derry — a see worth
£10,000 a year — at the age of thirty-eight,
and administered the affairs of his diocese
chiefly from Italy, where he played the art
patron on the grandest scale, and wore
habitually a white hat edged with purple, a
coat of crimson velvet, a black sash spangled
with silver, and purple stockings. That was
something like a bishop for you. He re-
turned to Ireland to head the Irish volun-
teers when they marched on Dublin, but
seldom dabbled in mere domestic politics ;
schemes for a fresh partition of Europe were
more to his taste. Nothing is, on the whole,
more characteristic of him than this excerpt
from a letter to Lady Elizabeth :

" What I have most at heart in this moment
is your brother's marriage with the Comtesse de
la Marche, the King of Prussia's daughter, of
which I have wrote to you so fully; but I
would not on any account have you teaze him
about it, how ardently soever I may wish it,
especially as he seems inclined to another pro-
ject. But see the difiference :

On My Side.

£5,000 a year down.
£5,000 a year in re-
version.

An English Dukedom

which the King

pledges to obtain.
Royal connexion —

Princess of "Wales

and Duchess of

York.
Sweet Elizabeth, when occasion serves, help me
to accomplish my project. I cannot, if I
would, afford him more than £2,000 a year
while my house is building and fumisMng.
What is that in London ?

On His Side.

No fortune.

Wife and children beg-
gars for want of
settlement.

No connexion.

A love match like all
others for foiu- genera-
tions before him.

But on My Plan.

£2,000 from me.
£5,000 dowry.

£3,000 Embassy to
Berlin or
Munich.

On His Plan.

£2,000.

Wife and children and
no settlement.

£10,000."

His daughter was not unworthy of such a
father. The average woman does not find

her account in being separated from her
husband (without custody of her children).
She, however, at once contracted an inti-
macy with the Duke and Duchess of
Devonshire — -very useful people to know ;
and after a period of wandering on
the Continent (during which Gibbon pro-
posed to her at Lausanne and took her
refusal with his usual philosophy), she
settled down at the very heart of affairs in
London. All the emotions of that crowded
Napoleonic period pass in procession through
her admirable letters and those of her
correspondents ; the embittered hatred of
the " tiger-apes," as the Bishop always calls
the Republican soldiers ; the enthusiastic
admiration of young Foster for the First
Consul's imperial bearing; the mourning
after Trafalgar ; the stupefaction at the
deaths of Pitt and Fox ; and all the rest
Meanwhile, from Washington, Augustus
Foster sketched with a caustic pen the
beginnings of a great Republic, much as an
Etrurian might have written of the early
Rome — an asylum for thieves and robbers,
an assemblage of the worst characters and
the meanest vices ; even its republican
simplicity lapsing into an affectation of
slovenliness when Jefferson received ambas-
sadors in yam stockings and slippers down
at heel.

Pages might be filled with quotations,
but in these columns it is proper to
g^ve a preference to the purely literary
interest. Lady Elizabeth and her friends
were not literary, but political ; their chief
artistic emotion was for the yoimg Roscius,
Master Betty, in whose praise all of them
were ready to pour out volumes at any
moment. But matters were different when
a poet of the first rank appeared in their
own circle ; and the curious thing is that,
along with the first volume of Childe Harold,
the Duchess (as Lady Elizabeth had now
become) sent out to her son in Washington
a consolation for the coldness of Miss
Milbanke whom he then desired to marry.
The passage is worth quoting.

" She persists in saying that she never sus-
pected your attachment to her, but she is so
odd a girl that though she has for some time
rather liked another, she has decidedly refused
them {sic), because 'she thinks she ought to
marry a'person with a good fortune, and this is
partly, I believe, from generosity to her
parents, and partly owning that fortune is an
object to herself for happiness. In short, she is
good, amiable, and sensible, but cold, prudent,
and reflecting. . . . Lord Byron makes up to
her a little, but she don't seem to admire him,
except as a poet, nor he her, except for a wife.
Your little friend Caro William (Lady Caroline
Lamb), as usual, is doing all sorts of imprudent
things for him and with him ; he admires her
very much, but is supposed by some to admire
our Caroline more ; he says she is like Thyrsa,
and her singing is enchantment."

" He must be mad or a Caligula," the
Duchess wrote of Byron after the separation,
when the stories spread, though at first she
had been inclined to condemn Lady Byron's
action. Strangely enough, the poet's wife
in her old age struck up a friendship with
the son of her old admirer, and the last
twenty pages or so of the correspondence
are filled with lengthy letters from her to
Mr. Vere Foster, all of them concerned with

226

THE ACADEMT.

(~Pra. 26, 1898.

charitable projects or religfious questions —
all of them temperate, sensible, and rational.
The Duchess described her very well, and
probably there was not in the length and
breadth of England a worse mate for Byron
than this admirable icicle.

An editor knowing the period — as, for
instance, Sir George Trevelyan knows it —
might have made out of these papers one of
the most fascinating books imaginable. As
it is, they contain a deal of agreeable matter,
but too much in the rough for the ordinary
digestion. One more quotation may be
given as illustrative of the whole :

"Marseilles, Dec., 1814.

" Frederick Foster to Augustine Foster."

"We have seen Massena. He is, I believe,
stingy, but very civil and very interesting to see.
Bonaparte on embarking for Elba sent him his
amities, ' C'est mi brave homme, je I'aime fort ' —
but Massena says, he, Bonaparte, loves nobody ;
that once when he was ill, Bonaparte never took the
least notice of him, never even sent to inquire, and
that at another time when he was also unwell,
and that Bonaparte had need of his services, he
used to come and see him three or four times a
day. . . . Massena and Wellington met at
Paris, and, after a stare, Massena said, ' Milord,
vous m'avez fait bien penser.' ' Et vous.
Monsieur le Marechal, vous m'avez souvent
empeche de dormir.' "

DOGMATISMS.

Affirmations. By Havelock EUis. (Walter
Scott.)

Me. Havelock Ellis "aflSrms" with re-
markable sincerity and readiness, with a
very individual conviction, yielding to no
convention, and fettered by no tradition :
so much so, that he would do well
to write in the first person singular.
He writes of Nietzsche, Casanova, M. Zola,
M. Huysmans, St. Francis— all men of
emphatic personalities: as were Diderot,
Heine, Walt Whitman, Count Tolstoi, and
M. Ibsen, the heroes of an earlier volume.
Freshness and clearness of thought, utter-
ance at first hand, vision unsophisticated,
are what he values ; npt, in Walt
Whitman's phrase, mere " distillations "
of literature. He loves the note of bold
and brave confession, of true testimony
borne to true experience, of frank and free
veracity ; and his own writing woidd gain if
it came to us with all the charming and
audacious egoism of St. Augustine, Mon-
taigne, Pascal, Browne, Eousseau, Lamb.
Further, the impersonal "we" is somewhat
less than fair and just. A writer of any

philosophy and creed may say that " we "

«.*., all educated persons— believe in the law
of gravitation and the earth's rotundity.
But is not "we" a little presumptuous,
would not "I" be more truly modest, in
such a passage as the following ? It is a
good example of the writer's style :

" The reUgion of Jesus was the invention of a
race which itself never accepted that rehgion.
. In the East religions spring up, for the most
part, as naturally as flowers, and, like flowers,
are scarcely a matter for furious propaganda.
These deep sagacious Eastern men threw us of
old this rejected flower, as they have since sent

us the vases and fans they found too tawdry ;
and when we send our missionaries out to barter
back the gift at a profit, they say no word, but
their faces wear the mysterious Eastern smile.
Yet for us, at all events, the figure of Jesus
symbohses, and will always symbolise, a special
attitude towards life, made up of tender human
sympathy and mystical reliance on the unseen
forces of the world. In certain stories of the
Gospels, certain sayings, in many of the
parables, this attitude finds the completest ex-
pression of its sweetest abandonment. But to
us, men of another race, living in far distant
corners of the World, it seems altogether
oriental and ascetic, a morbid exceptional
phenomenon."

Surely, "to me, a man of another race,"
would be at once more accurate and more
effective. That, says the reader, is how
" Christianity " strikes Mr. EUis ; it struck
Newman, Browning, Arnold in three distinct
ways, but not one of them in that way.
And would Mr. Herbert Spencer, or Mr.
Leslie Stephen, or Mr. Frederic Harrison,
assuredly not "orthodox " thinkers, put the
matter quite in that way ; did Renan or
Strauss feel quite like Mr. EUis? The
" we " means but " I and some others " ;
not any overwhelming mass of trained
inteUects, but a certain number. That Mr.
ElUs holds this, and feels that, is a fact of
interest to us ; the conviction and the emotion
clothe themselves with flesh and blood,
when personaUy " affirmed" as those of an
individual man. " We " conveys no such
sense of reaUty, whilst it does convey the
displeasing suggestion that, in the writer's
mind, it means the Mite of the inteUect, those
whose opinions matter. Literature, phUo-
sophic and rosthetic, would profit greatly
by a greater directness of personal speech,
which need not become unauthoritative and
capricious in ceasing to be unindividual and
pompous. As essays in composition and
design, admixtures of narrative and criticism,
these papers are admirable. Mr. EUis
always does what he sets out with the
intention of doing, and never fails to hold
his reader's attention. His essay upon
Casanova is perhaps the best. It is possible
to feel nothing but an irritable disUke
of that virtuoso in the arts of vice and
connoisseur of profligate Uving ; or to part
company with him with a smile and a shrug
of the shoulders. But, at least, he was
intensely alive, a very splendid and accom-
plished animal of the species homo ; and Mr.
EUis shows him to us in aU his unspiritual,
but most vital, humanity. This vigorous
voluptuary, of equal strength and elegance
in his varied pursuit of pleasure, was no
whining sinner of the sort described, once
for aU, by Sir Henry Taylor :

" I heard the sorrowful sensualist complain.
If with compassion, not without disdain."

Casanova enjoyed with equanimity his Ufe
upon a soulless plane, and went laughing
through the eighteenth century with an
immense relish for the satisfactions it
could give him, and with never a thought
of conscientious remorse ; he iUustrates
certain aspects of his age, as does
Cellini. He was not, like one of Browning's
characters, " magnificent in sin " ; he strikes
no moraUst with shuddering horror and
wonder. He is a man of no tragedy in the

will, of no battle between soul and senses ;
he never " faUs," for his nature had no
heights wherefrom to fall. The soiU was
omitted from his composition, and he lived
a very perfect scamp, an exceUent rascal,
upon whom indignation would be wasted.
We may deplore his existence, but hardly
execrate his Ufe. PracticaUy, Mr. EUis says
of him, what Lamb pleaded on behalf of
Restoration comedy, that all the excess and
wantonness affect us, as things done in an
imaginary faeryland, to which moral law
and social code do not apply ; and so, to
censure Casanova, is to be angry with the
deaf-mute or the colour-bUnd. Probably.
In Nietzsche, Mr. ElUs had a more difficult
theme to handle. A kind of innocent
Anarchist in thought, now insane beyond
recovery, it is hard to vindicate for him a
place among the , first men of our time,
though easy to point out his interest. We
are too close to him : posterity must weigh
in the balances his portentous and fantastic
and oracular works, and decide whether the
taint or strain of madness does not vitiate
them from the first. But, at least, Mr. Ellis
in his elaborate study, succeeds in bringing
before us a Uving image of the man, witi
his passionate vivacity and decision of ideas,
his proud isolation in the world of thought,
his mental imaginativeness. Life, fact,
reaUty, the definite, the concrete — these are
his idols, and thought is of value to him only
as it estabUshes us in a true relation to
these. His notorious conception of " master
moraUty" as opposed to "slave morality,"
of egoism as against altruism, self-assertion
against self-denial, is but his expression of
love for a Ufe of positive affirmations and
doings : it is not, essentially not, a negation
of aU law. Gautier cries : " Tiberius,
CaUgula, Nero, mighty imperial Romans,
at whose heels the rabble rout of rhetoricians
is ever barking, I am your feUow-sufferer,
and aU the compassion left in me com-
passionates you ! " That is a cry of sheer
ajstheticism, unrelated to any system of
mortd thought. Nietzsche might have
cried it, but with him it would have impUed
a declaration of war against timid virtues of
the Christian ideal, not for love of the
aesthetic charm in unbridled personalities,
but of the moral charm. Those monstrous
men were at least themselves, fearless of the
world's condemnation ; Uving persons, with
characters not blurred, obscured, anni-
hilated by conformity with the average
and the conventional. Mr. EUis traces the
development of his mind from youth, through
stages of ever-increasing vehemence, imtil
the vehemence, which had been passion ex-
pressed with flashing brilUance, passed
through a cloud of fire and smoke into the
night of madness. In him the intensity of
self was an obsession ; and from a burning
desire to preach the divine right of self-
hood— if you will, of selfishness — he fell
into that unimaginable state in wliicli one-
self becomes the universe, and the mind
has burst its barriers. This " Pascal of
Paganism " had through Ufe the character-
istic pride of the insane ; a wild glory of the
imagination, to be found in such abnormal
natures as Blake, some of whose doctrines
are strangely Uke those of Nietzsche. And
both men, while enamoured of precision,

Feb. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

227

of definite form, have left works in which
form struggles for precise expression —
works of colossal energy contending with
chaos.

Upon M. Zola and M. Huysmans, Mr.
Ellis writes wisely and well, but his sub-
jects are more familiar to us. Leaving
them aside, let us consider one point of his
affirmations upon which he has always in-
sisted. He complains that " the sexual
and digestive functions," which are "pre-
cisely the central functions of life, the two
poles of hunger and love around which the
world revolves " are more and more with-
drawn from literary treatment. That in
common speech and social intercourse each
generation is less and less able to handle
such matters with directness, he does not
deplore, but he fiuds the tendency dis-
astrous to literature. It would have seemed
an obvious remark that in this matter social
and literary usage go for the most part pari
passu ; but Mr. Ellis discounts the remark
by contending that outspoken writers have
always required some "heroism " to be out-
spoken. That may be partly true, but to
no great extent, and it does not touch
the essentials of the question. It is
undeniable that we can trace frank,
plain, unvarnished mention of " sexual and
digestive functions," gradually passing from
great literature to lighter literature, from
lofty writing to comedy and jest, from high
poetry into prose fiction — and that, simul-
taneously with a like change in social usage.
Take, from Dante, the line about the devil
Malacoda : "Ed egU avea del cul fatto
trombetta." Dante's age thought that
devils were properly described as not
merely wicked, but also, and consequently,
as absurd and obscene ; no contemporary
would have blushed to hear the line. But
coidd Milton possibly have written it ? Yet
the physical fact described is a vulgar jest
in great writers of the last century ; it had
sunk into the realm of unseemly mirth.
Luther, preaching the physical impossibility
of celibacy, has this comparison : " Wer
seinen Mist oder Ham halten miisste, so
er's doch nicht kann, was soil aus dem
werden? " Hooker or Taylor was no advo-
cate of enforced celibacy, but would either
have ventured upon such a sentence ? They
might have used the argument, but never
the words. Or take the well-known story
of Scott's aged relative, Mrs. Keith of
Eavelston, who asked him to lend her
Aphra Behn's novels ; they had pleased her
in youth. Scott, with apprehensions, lent
them. "Take back your bonny Mrs. Behn,"
said the old lady at their next meeting,
" and if you wiU take my advice, put her in
the fire, for I found it impossible to get
through the very first novel. But is it not a
very odd thing that I, an old woman of eighty
and upwards, sitting alone, feel myseLE
ashamed to read a book which, sixty years
ago, I have heard read aloud for the amuse-
ment of largo circles, consisting of the first
and most creditable society in London ? "
Language becomes inevitably circumscribed,
as taste and manners change : and what is
possible to Shakespeare is impossible to
Browning, assuredly no shrinker from phy-
sical passion.

It is the same with acts as with arts.

In his finely suggestive, if unsatisfying,
essay upon St. Francis and Others, Mr.
EUis tells the story of Francis stripping
himself naked before the bishop and
people of Assisi, in token of his self-
abandonment to absolute poverty. The
spectators might have thought it a mad
thing to do ; some did ; but no one thought
it indecent. Now, a few years ago, Mr.
Calderon exhibited a picture of St. Eliza-
beth of Hungary, in which, misinterpreting
a mediseval chronicler — omnino se exuit et
nuda/vit — he represented the royal saint
naked before the altar. Catholics made
vehement protests, and have renewed them
now that the picture has become national
property. Yet, making the largest
allowance for the difference in the essentials
of modesty between man and woman, we
doubt whether, had the incident occurred,
St. Elizabeth's contemporaries would have
been gravely scandalised. What she
actually did was, before the altar, to make
a solemn vow of self-abnegation, putting
off, and baring herself of, all earthly attach-
ments and desires : had she, like Francis,
symbolised the vow by a bodily baring, none
would have cried shame upon her. But
this age feels differently, and is justified
in so feeling. It is, for the most part, not
a question of ethics, but of ajsthetics : in
spite of all that is sane and wholesome in
Whitman's gospel, we cannot be persuaded
that what is physically right or inevitable is
therefore a beautiful thing in speech or
literature. It is no Swift, obsessed with
unclean images, but Tennyson who speaks
of the body as

" This poor rib-grated dungeon of the holy

human ghost,
This house with all its hateful needs no

cleaner than the beast,
This coarse diseaseful creature which in Eden

was divine,
This Satan-haunted ruin, this little city of

sewers. . . ."

And surely, waiving the point about
Eden, the description is exact. About some
physical acts, as, for example, coughing or
sneezing, there is no possibility of feeling
emotion, in themselves : and there are
numbers of harmless physical acts and
functions, the description of which is ludi-
crous and distasteful. Mr. Ellis writes of
one of M. Huysmans' novels that it
" dwells in the memory chiefly by virtue of
two vividly naturalistic episodes, the birth
of a calf and the death of a cat." No harm
in that : but how Fielding or Scott would
have laughed, and how paltry is the waste of
power upon such material ! Animal suffer-
ing has often been an exquisite scheme of
art, but never for the cunning presentation
of mere detail. A recent clever little story
dwells in our memory by the phrase " expec-
torations glistened upon the gaslit asphalte
pavement." Ristcm teneatis amici?

But all the questions raised by Mr. EUis,
chiefly for love, as he affirms, of their
" questionable aspects," are questions worth
raising. For ourselves, we prefer our criti-
cism to be less closely allied with physio-
logical science, with the ' ' sexual and
digestive functions " ; and Mr. Ellis has
written many pages of fine criticism aptly

expressed, for which we are grateful. As a
scientific student of humanity, he is some-
what distressing to readers who, in presence
of the great arts, care little whether they
are in the body or out of the body, and not
at aU for the physical bases of emotion and
thought. Nor will any such reader be
greatly agitated by the impoverishment of
the English literary tongue, whilst he can
study passions of body and soul in the works
of Browning, Patmore, and Mr. Meredith.

THE FRIEND OF BUENS AND
BEETHOVEN.

George Thomson, the Friend of Burns, his
Life and Correspondence. By J. Cuthbert
Hadden. (J. C. Nimmo).

BuENS had many friends, and George
Thomson was one of them. It was only to
be expected, therefore, that advantage
would be taken of the " boom in Burns " to
connect this book with his name. But it
has really little to do with Bums. It is a
book of some use to biographical specialists,
by reason of the business letters it gives
between Thomson and a variety of famous
authors. For this reason we cannot blame
its issue, though it is of little or no interest
to the public or to the general student of
literature. Yet Thomson was not merely
"the friend of Bums." He was the com-
piler, editor, and proprietor of a great
collection of Scottish songs, afterwards
supplemented by similar collections of Irish
and Welsh songs, to which, both Burns and
other authors of eminence freely contributed.
Undoubtedly he did a great and useful work
for the minstrelsy of Scotland ; though,
because of certain misjudgments in the
setting of the songs, his collection was never
very successful, and has now passed into
oblivion. But as a subject for biography,
it is a case of " Story? God bless you, there
is none to teU, Sir! "

Thomson early became junior clerk to
the Board of Trustees for the Encourage-
ment of Arts and Manufactures in Scotland ;
and by that he lived when his books
would have brought him merely ruin. He
once made a tour on the Continent, he
twice removed from Edinburgh to London,
he published the collections aforesaid, and
after living respectably, died respectably.
That is really all. The bulk of the volume
is composed of the business correspondence
already mentioned. Even as a connoisseur
of other men's work he was a mediocrity.
The scanty evidence of his letters to his
famous contributors sufficiently shows that
his taste was eminently what the public
calls "respectable," and famous authors
reserve their opinion upon. We have not
here his correspondence with Bums ; in that
respect Mr. Hadden has nothing to add to
the information we already possess. But
he snips and nips the verses of illustrious
men with a complacent pedantry which the
reader can by no means stand so meekly as
did tie illustrious men themselves. He
objects to Sir Walter Scott for talking about
"the glories of shade." His biographer
recalla, in excuse, that Bentley could not

228

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 26, 1898.

away with Milton's "No light, but rather
darkness visible." But it would be hard to
find a worse critic of poetry than Bentley.
Thomson must surely have been troubled by
Spenser's "A little glooming light, much
like a shade," and he would have been
thrown into strong shudders by Vaughan's

"There is in God, some say,
A deep, but dazzling darkness."

Wonderful is the patience and courtesy of
his contributors. Bums, Scott, Hogg,
Lockhart, aU of them, write for him with-
out payment, and submit docilely to his
meddling and niggling corrections. One is
heartily delighted when Joanna BaUlie at
length tackles him, and refutes his altera-
tions with feminine vigour and decision.

But the nature of the man comes out in
his not very lively letters from the Continent.
At Notre Dame this thorough Scotchman of
his period could see only " sacerdotal and
empty pomp." He went to the Grand
Opera in Paris, heard Gluck's Iphigene, and
declared: "The music is too continually
noisy, and the singers much more ardent
and impassioned than I can bear." The
declaration is comic in its unconscious
frankness of seU-revelation. Ardour and
passion absolutely annoyed him, as they do
all Philistines ; and you are no longer sur-
prised at his criticism of poetry. He adds
in the same strain: " The grandeur of the
orchestra becomes oppressive." If he had
lived to attend a Wagner opera ! At his
advanced age it would probably have been
fatal. The marvel is how such a man ever
came to appreciate Burns at aU.

StUl more marvellous is the fact that he
admired Beethoven. The correspondence
with this composer approaches somewhat
nearer to interest than anything else in
the book. We see Beethoven as a most
"pawky" and matter-of-fact insister on
details of payment and business. We see
also Thomson preaching simplicity to the
great musician in the most approved style
of the small dealing with the great; and
incidentally we get lights on the wretched
state of musical education in England and
—yet more— in Scotland. " There are not
in Scotland twelve persons (professionals
included) who could play one of your
quatmrs," says Thomson. Again, "Every-
body finds your works much too difiicult,
and only a few masters of the first rank can
play them." Beethoven offers him a sym-
phony on the triumph of Wellington at
Vittoria. Thomson makes the amazing
suggestion that he should recast it as a
pianoforte sonata; and this monster, this
symphony as sonata, is to have "accom-
paniments for violin, &c." Great music!
He asks Beethoven to compose music
" in that grand and original style which be-
longs to you alone, but easier to perform,
so that it would be more within the capacity
of amateurs. . . . Simple and expressive
music will always have a great charm for all
listeners, and difficult music will probably be
neglected."

And once more :

" Is it not true that in all the arts the highest
beauty is in general found vinited with the most
perfect simpBcity ? And is it not such works
that obtain the most permanent and universal
admiration ? "

At last, after years of such lectures and
exhortations to the ballad-concert level,
Beethoven broke forth, in the one truly
characteristic letter of the series :

" My dear Friend, — You are always
writing 'easy,' 'very easy'; I do my best to
satisfy you, but — but — the fse will have to be
more ' difficult,' or, I might say, ' ponderous ' !
The fee for a theme with variations which I
fixed in my last letter to you — ten ducats —
is, I solemnly assure you, so low out of mere
favour to you ; for I have no need of troubling
myself with such trifling things. ... I wish
you may always have a real taste for true
music; if you cry ' easy,' I shall retort with
' difficult' for your ' eisy ' ! — Your friend,

Beethoxin."

The fault, indeed, was Thomson's own.
He wanted accompaniments for his songs,
and he went to German composers like
Haydn, Weber, Beethoven, ignorant of
Scottish song. Possibly the copies of the
airs sent to Beethoven were very imperfect ;
in any case he got no grip on the spirit of
the music, and the other musicians did little
better. Hence the collection failed. The
task set Beethoven and his colleagues was
impossible ; but Thomson would not see it.
In one respect Mr. Hadden does some ser-
vice to Thomson's memory. He shows that
Bums and the rest of his song- writers refused
to accept payment. After that initial refusal
Thomson compromised matters by sending
them presents of pictures, costly stuff, &c. ;
which Bums, at least, rebelled against. Still, I
it does not seem to us so clear that if Thomson
had persevered with the offer of payment,
instead of dropping it after the first generous
refusal, Bums might not finally have taken
it. Bums's dislike of ^the presents is no
proof. There is all the difference in the
world between capricious presents and honest
fixed payment. The latter could hurt no
author's self-respect ; the former well might.
At any rate, Mr. Hadden shows that Thom-
son, with all his faults as a critic, was an
honourable, upright, and kind-hearted man ;
and that he has been wronged by those who
have regarded him as a mercenary editor,
preying on the labours of poets. For the
rest, the letters he gives may be of use to
future biographers of Scott, of Hogg, of
Lockhart, of Joanna Baillie — of everyone
except Bums.

BRIEFER MENTION.

" Temple Dramatists."- r/i« Tragical Reign
of Selimug. A Play Eeclaimed for Eobert
Greene. Edited by Alexander B. Grosart,
D.D., LL.D. (Dent.)

The early editions of Selimus contain nothing
to justify the attribution to Eobert Greene.
The play was first published anonymously
in 1594, and re-issued in 1638 with the
initials " T. G." The effective argument
for Greene's authorship consists almost
entirely of the fact that two quotations
ascribed to him in Allot's English Parnassiia
are here found. This is not conclusive, for
Allot has been shown to have made mis-
takes in other cases ; but no doubt, in the
absence of evidence for any other author,
it raises a presumption for Greene. And

the style and matter of the play,
though they do not, pace Dr. Grosart,
tell very much for the theory, are at any
rate not inconsistent with it. A pretty
point of literary antiquarianism is raised :
but we cannot think that the interest of this
is quite sufficient to justify the inclusion of
Selimus in a popular series such as the
" Temple Dramatists." The student will be
grateful, because there is no other modern
reprint save that in Dr. Grosart's expensive
and limited edition of all Greene's works.
But the ordinary reader will find the play
intolerable. Dr. Grosart tells him that it
" has passages of rare power, of Marlowe-
like passion, of beauty, of melody, of
distinction, of memorableness." The affec-
tion of a godfather for a bantling may be
condoned ; but to us there appears to be but
one single true word in this glowing de-
scription— "Marlowe-like." For in truth
Selimus is nothing more than a totally
uninspired imitation of Tamhurlaine, vacant
in plot, turgid of sentiment, and wooden of
metre. To reprint it, in this particular
series, was an archteological freak.

"International Theological Library." —
Christian Institutions. By A. G. V. Allen,
D.D. (T. & T. Clark.)

This is a volume in the series so happily
inaugurated by Prof. Driver's Introduction to
the Literature of the Old Testament, which is
now, we are glad to say, in its sixth edition.
Prof. Allen's treatise was originally shaped
as a course of Lowell Lectures at an American
University. It is a thoughtful survey of
the chief institutions of Christianity in their
connexion, on the one hand with the
spiritual life, on the other with the develop-
ment of Christian civilisation. It falls into
three sections. The first deals with organi-
sation, the orders of the ministry, the growth
of the episcopate and the papacy, and the rise
of monasticism ; the second with creeds and
the development of formal doctrine ; the
third with worship, embracing the divisions
of the Christian year and the rites of
Baptism and Eucharist. It will be seen
that the field covered is very wide, and that
the treatment cannot, therefore, be ex-
haustive ; but as a careful study of th(
mutual relations of the institutions deal!
with, and of the place occupied by each ir
Church history as a whole, the book should
be, to students in particular, of exceeding
value.

Th« £le)nents of Hypnotism. By Ealpl
Harry Vincent. " International Scientifi
Series." (Kegan Paul & Co.)

To the second edition of this usefu
introduction to hypnotism Mr. Vincent ha
added a new chapter, in which he discussc
the "Physiology of Hypnosis," Herei
he gives a lucid account of the nature c
nervous processes, and then attempts to ex
plain the hypnotic reactions from the poii
of view of physiological psychology. M:
Vincent expects opposition to his theor
that "psychic" states are not necessaril
" conscious " states. It does not seei
essentially different from the psychologic-
theory of " sub-conscious " states, but hot
the terms are somewhat paradoxical ani
perhaps, better avoided.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

A Departure from Tradition,
AND Other Stories.

By Eosaline Masson.

The first of these clever stories, A Departure from Tradition, is
rather to be described as a skit. We have the clever girl, who is
not so clever as she thinks, married to the dull man, ■who is not so
didl as he looks. He is appalled when, on their honeymoon, his
wife quotes "enough Browning to have filled two sides of the
Pinh'Un." She is appalled by the prospect of house-keeping, for
is she not writing a treatise on "The Ontogenesis of the Ego" ?
How he manages the spring-cleaning while she writes for the Monthly
Investigator, and how this " departure from tradition " answers — is
the story. (Bliss, Sands & Co. 312 pp. 6s.)

His Fortunate Grace.

By Gertrude Atherton.

In this short story we are back in the world of Miss Atherton's
earlier heroine. Patience Sparhawk; indeed, that brilliant young
lady is recalled on one page by her ex-sister-in-law, who exclaims
with half-mocking admiration: "We can't all have seventeen
different experiences before we are twenty-four, including a
sojourn in Murders' Eow, and a frantic love affair with one's own
husband." (Bliss, Sands & Co. 186 pp.)

A Man from the North.

By E. a. Bennett.

The North-country youth who has a passion for London is the
hero (in tliis case a weak and wayward one) selected by Mr. Bennett.
Eichard Larch's keen imaginative sympathies ; his love affairs,
begotten not of wisdom, but of loneliness and lack of purpose ;
and his final abandonment of his literary dreams in favour of a
commonplace wife whom he can love, and a dull suburban home
to which he can be reconciled, are all developed with skill and
insight. The story is a study of a second-rate man who comes to
know his second-rateness, and makes the best of it. (John Lane.
265 pp. 3s. 6d.)

The Minister of State.

By John A. Steuart.

This story, by the author of In the Bay of Battle and Kilgroom,
explains why Evan Kinloch, after rising from a Highland farm to
be Sir Evan, and Home Secretary, advises a little Highland boy, fifty
years later, " not to go south and make speeches and have a carriage
and horses." It is a fiue story, and may be described as a study
in the difficulty of attaining to happiness. (William Heinemann.
386 pp. 68.)

The Kloof Bride; or.
The Lover's Quest. By Ernest Glanville.

A novel of love and adventure. The hero, Miles Venning,
is partner in a gun-making firm, and takes a consignment of
Martini-Henry rifles and 500,000 rounds of ammunition to
Zanzibar. His own journey thither is unnecessary ; but the order
is signed " E. Mark Stemdale," and Miles had once met, and
lost sight of, a girl whose father bore that name. To deliver
the rifles was his business, to find Laura his hope. And what with
rascally slave-traders (who flourish scimitars), and boat adventures
on the Zambesi, and the ' 'Valley of the Dead," and Laura, the reader
need fear no dull page. (Methuen. 394 pp. 3b. 6d.)

Gloria Victis. By J. A. Mitchell.

An American novel of crime and regeneration, by the editor of
the New York Life. The criminals are fascinating : Jim Wadsworth,
Foss Gbaham, and particularly Steve Wadsworth, with whose career
the book is concerned. Steve, who is not consciously a rogue but
merely lacks the moral sense, passes from thief to highwayman,
highwayman to murderer, and murderer to acrobat, yet keeps sweet

the while, and his progress is related with much dry humour. Dr.
Thome, the preacher, is a lovable figure. An engrossing little story.
(D. Nutt. 269 pp. 38. 6d.)

Blanche Coninqham's Surrender. By Jean Middlemass.

A typical novel, by the author of Hush Money and half a score of
other popular tales. The new book centres in a revengeful money-
lender, ennobled by the influence of his wealth to be Lord Sandover ;
and round him Miss Middlemass's aristocrats — she will have no
others — circle. Here is a passage chosen at random : " On the table
in the little boudoir . . . were some letters. One of them bore
a foreign postmark. The colour mounted to Lady Vere's brow
when she saw it. It was from the Count de Florian." (F. V. White.
312 pp. 6s.)

The Fatal Phial.

By G. Beresford Fitzgerald.

The bottle in question contained chloral and made an end
of the first Lady Dawe, and Nurse Ursula was, of course,
suspected of the crime. Nurse Ursula, who in private life was
Mrs. Eichmond, widow, "was tall, well-developed, with a handsome
bust and limbs. . . . From this muscular, handsome frame rose
a long, slender, and very white neck, surmounted by a head of
exquisite shape, with bronze-coloured hair." Is it to be wondered,
then, that she became in due time the second Lady Dawe ? As for
the chloral, it was the mistake of the regulation blundering
chemist, without whom where would novelists of this class be ?
(Digby, Long & Co. 252 pp. 3s. 6d.)

The Infatuation of Amanda. By Mina Sandeman.

Amanda's infatuation was the curate. " The curate was as deep
as a well, and as quiet as a dark, dangerous pool, which smiles in
the sunlight " — and so on. But he did not love Amanda : he had
only a " tepid toleration " for her, as she discovered after the
marriage. And he was not really good ; on the contrary, he went
to music halls and had even joined a stage crowd. And once he
had " an acme of rage." So Amanda killed him. Such a silly
book! (Digby, Long & Co. 231 pp. Ss. 6d.)

In the same Eeoiment.

By John Strange Winter.

Nine stories of regimental and other life by the author of BootUt'
Baby. (F.V.White. 110 pp. Is.)

REVIEWS.

Simon Dale. By Anthony Hope.
(Methuen.)

Of the younger writers who have made Eomance lucrative since the
late E. L. Stevenson brought it back into vogue we have had most
regard for Mr. Anthony Hope : his faculty has seemed the finest and
his style the best considered. Hitherto his writing has been of two
kinds, wliich — borrowing from the language of the Dreyfus
graphologists — we may call dextrogyre and sinistrogyre, and the
most notable examples of which have been The Prisoner of Zenda
and The Ood in the Car. In the one kind Mr. Hope is simple,
sentimental, fantastic, and purely romantic ; in the other he is
subtle, subacid (his humour is scarcely strong or earnest enough
to be called "cynical"), actual, and only as romantic as smart
society manners will permit him to be. In Simon Dale (which his
publishers advertise as his "first historical novel") he combines
the two kinds ; and the historical period he has chosen — the
Eestoration — lends itself agreeably to the combination. How has
he succeeded ? Well, not to put too fine a point on it, he neither
delights nor convinces, neither moves nor holds us. Simon Dale,
a youth of twenty-two, and of no great rank or wealth, comes to
London, and is instantly plimged into a Court intrigue of love and

230

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Feb. 26, 189«.

politics. It is the fashion of the latter-day historical romance to
be egoistic, and, according to fashion, Simon Dale tells his own
story; and, frankly, we do not helieve it. Through Nell
Gwynne— how he first was acquainted with the lady it would
be unfair to disclose — he is introduced to intimate speech with
the king and such great personages of the Court as the
Duke of York and the Duke of Monmouth, who compete to
retain his valuable services. Simon Dale may well have been
a young man of great natural parts and of remarkable
promise and attraction, and yet, at twenty-two and fresh from the
country, it is impossible to believe that he would be witty enough,
astute enough, and self-possessed enough to bandy speech with
Charles 11. and the notables of his Court, and to cross and bafile
them in more than one scheme ; to put M. De Cominges, the French
Ambassador, to the blush; and by sheer force of character to compel
from the king himself such a confession as this :

" The King struck his right hand on the arm of his chair suddenly and
forcibly. ' I sit here,' said he ; 'it is my work to sit here. My brother
has a conscience : how long would he sit here ? James [meaning Mon-
mouth] is a fool : how long would he sit here ? They laugh at me or
snarl at me, but here I sit and here I will sit till my life's end, by
God's grace or the Devil's help. My gospel is to sit here.'

I had never before seen him so moved, and never had so plain a
glimpse of his heart, nor of the resolve which lay beneath his lightness
and frivolity."

Kings do not utter themselves thus to casual young men of
twenty-two ; least of all is the second Charles Stuart likely to have
done so. But most incredible of all is the episode of M. de
Perrencourt, which even the great art of the great Dumas would
scarely have availed to make appear feasible. "We cannot speak
more fully of the episode, for to do so would be to give away the
cherished secret of the story.

Yet, though the intrigue of the story is incredible, it has some
admirable qualities. Though Barbara Quinton is an absurdly
and impossibly prudish and modem young person for the Eestora-
tion period, Nell Gwynne is well rendered — better rendered than at
the moment we can recall she has ever been, short of the absolute
truth — in her changefulness, her vivacity, and her lack of moral
sense as " this so-called nineteenth century" understands it. And,
though Mr. Hope, on a consistent plan of archaic moralising, tires
us with well-balanced sentences and paragraphs of reflection which
are not illumined by the faintest flicker of humour or of wisdom —
the whole matter being a game — he shows an agreeable faculty of
sparkling dialogue, wliich may, in these days, pass for wit, and
which may be taken as sufficiently illustrative of the Restoration.
Here is a passage towards the end :

" Having procureil a gentleman to advise the King of my presence, I
was rewarded by bt-ing beckoned to approach immediately. . . . Motioning
me to stand by him [the King] continued his conversation with my lord
Rochester.

' In defining it as the device by which the weak intimidate the strong,'
objerved Eochester, 'the philosopher declared the purpose of virtue
rather than its effect. For the strong are not iatimidated ; while the
weak, falling slaves to their own puppet, grow more helpless stUl.'

' It's a just retribution on them,' said the King, ' for having invented
anything so tiresome.'

' In truth, sir, all these things that make virtue are given a man for
his profit, and that he may not go empty-handed into the mart of the
world. He has stuff for barter : he can give honour for pleasure, morality
for money, religion for power.'

The King raised his brows and smiled again, but made no remark.
Eochester bowed com-teously to me, as he added : ' Is it not as I say
sir ? ' and awaited my reply. '

'It's better still, my lord,' I answered, 'for he can make these
bargains you speak of, and, by not keeping them, have his basket still
full for another deal.'

Again the King smiled as he patted his dog.

'Very just, sir, very just,' nodded Eochester. 'Thus by breaking a
villainous bargain he is twice a villain, and preserves his reputation to
aid him in the more effectual cheating of his neighbour.'

' And the damning of his own soul,' said the King softly."

Sometimes the wit crackles a little more than that; but the
wisdom of it— well, is it not altogether somewhat mechanical and
insincere ? — somewhat more so than it need be for the mere purpose
of illustration, if that be its purpose? In sum, we are dis-
appointed with Simon Dale ; and Mr. Anthony Hope must recon-
sider himself if he is not to be deposed from his promising
place in the front rank of the younger novelists.

The Vintage. By E. F. Benson. ,

(Methuen.)

Me. Benson is at a very interesting stage in his career. He has
had to struggle with an early success which depended largely upon
considerations somewhat irrelevant to the actual qualities of his
work. And in more recent books the vein of bo-^'ish humour and
exuberant high spirits, from which those qualities, such as they
were, came, has shown unmistakable signs of having panned out.
This Mr. Benson has seen for himself, and he has had the literary
instinct and the good sense to start afresh on entirely new lines. In
The Vintage this experiment has thoroughly justified itself. It is I
at once more ambitious and more satisfying than any of its
predecessors, and it makes it quite clear that beneath the superficial
cleverness there is solid good stuff in the author. The Vintage
is a romance of the Gfreek War of Independence. Of romances we
have, of course, enough and to spare at present, and most of them
are not worth the paper they are written on ; but you will not easily
confuse Mr. Benson's work with these. The mere workmanship of
the book is admirable. Mr. Benson knows the topography and the
social life of his Greece well, and he has used his knowledge with
excellent effect. His background is painted with real sensitiveness
to the characteristic and beautiful features of that wonderful coimtry,
and yet it remains a background, and is not allowed to encroach
upon the interest of the story. Here is a charming bit of vignetted
landscape, by way of example :

"The grapes were not yet so far advanced as at NaupUa and still
hvmg hard, and tinged with colour only on the sunward side ; but the
fruit harvest was going on, and under the fig-trees were spread coarse
strips of matting on which the fragrant piles were laid to dry. A few
late pomegranate trees were still covered with their red, wax-like
blossoms, but on most the petals had fallen, and the fruit, hke little
green-glazed pitchers, was beginning to swell and darken towards
maturity. The men were at work in the vineyards cutting channels for
the water, and through the green of the fig-trees you could catch sight
ever)' now and then of the brightly coloured petticoat of some woman
picking the fruit, or else her presence was only indicated, where the
leaves were thicker, by the dumping of the ripe figs on to the canvas
strips below."

The vintage, which Mr. Benson uses as a symbol of the overthrow of
the rotten-ripe Turkish domination, is, of course, a familiar feature
of Greek village life, and an episode of vintage idyll at the begin-
ning serves to enforce and bring home the symbolism.

The story itself centres around the adventures of one Mitsos, a
Nauplian fisher-boy, of giant stature and fiery soul, who happens to
be the nephew of one of the chief organisers of the outbreak, and
is thus drawn into the thick of it. The flare of patriotism in the
lad, and the heroic deeds which he does in the strength of this, are
finely realised. The fighting and the toilsome journeys which he
endures are capitally told ; and in the midst of it all he has a love-
story which breathes the very spirit of romance, and is at one
moment complicated by a situation of inner and vital tragedy. In
some of the scenes which immediately precede the revolt the
sentiment of the book reaches a very exalted point, and Mr. Benson's
style, good throughout, rises notably to the occasion. It falls to
Mitsos to light the beacon which shall be the fateful signal :

" In ten minutes more the rain had stopped, but Mitsos still laboured
on until the heat of the beacon was so great that he could scarcely
approach to throw on the fresh fuel. The flames leaped higher and
higher, and, the wind dropping, a shower of red-hot pieces of half-
burned leaves and bark was continually carried upwards, peopling the
night with fiery sparks, and falling round him in blackened particles, or
floating away a feathery white ash, like motes in a sunbeam. And as he
stood there, grimy and panting, scorched and chilled, throwing new
bundles of fuel on to the furnace, and seeing them smoke and fizz and
then break out flaring, the glory and the splendour of the deeds he was
helping in burst in upon him with one blinding flash that banished
other memories, and for the moment even Suleima was but the shadow
of a shadow. The beacon he had kindled seemed to illuminate the
depths of his soul, and he saw by its light the cruelty and accursed lusts
of that hated race, and the greatness of the freedom that was coming.
Then, blackened and burned and sodden and drenched, he sat down for
a few moments to the north of the beacon to get his breath, and scoured
the night. Was that a star burning so low on the horizon ? Surely it
was too red for a star, and on such a night what stars could pierce the
clouds ? Besides, was not that a mountain which stood up dimly behind
it ? Then presently after it grew and glowed ; it was no star, but the fiery
mouth of message shouting north and south. Bassae had auswei-ed."

Feb. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

231

We have but few f aidts to find vritli The Vintage. "We should, how-
ever, like to suggest to Mr, Benson that the use of asterisks, so dear
to conteurs of the Maupassant school, is hardly in keeping with the
manner of a romance. In fact, the significance of them escaped us
at the time, and the necessity of turning back to verify caused
irritation. Mr. Benson should be a little franker. Occasionally,
but only occasionally, the old Adam revives, and Mitsos and his
henchman, Yanni, talk precisely like Dodo or the Babe. This,
for instance, comes quaintly :

"' A pot of little anchovies, Yanni,' he remarked; 'they will come
first to give us an appetite. Thus I shall have two appetites, for I have
one already. By the Virgin, there is tobacco too, all ready in the pipes.
We shall pass a very pleasant evening, I hope. Oh, there's the horse
still waiting at the gate. I will go and fetch him ; and be quick with
the supper, pig.'

Yanni laughed.

' EeaUy the Turk is a very convenient man,' he said. ' I like wars.
We eau take provisions from here which will last to Nauplia. There
wiU be no skulking about villages after dark to buy bread and wine
without being noticed.' "

A more serious defect is, that the interest of the story flags con-
siderably in the last third. Mitsos is absorbed in the general
history, and the campaigns and jealousies of the insurgent Greeks
prove less absorbing than the individual career. What remains
with us of the book, beyond the atmosphere of the whole, is
certainly not the politics, but Mitsos himself, his brave heart and
his idyllic love.

A PLEA FOE THE SEMICOLON.

" The semicolon test may 'prove the final one to determine an
author's fitness to rank wifii august society." Thus Mr E. H.
MuUin in The Chap Book, who, having premised that the sign of a
bad writer is bad punctuation, especially in regard to the semicolon,
proceeds to quote Vom certain of the august to show how the semi-
colon should be used :

"Matthew *. ■''*'* who loved to be didactic, but disliked to be
thought disputatious, everywhere in his writings uses elegant punctuation
to bring out or to emphasise his meaning. In the following example,
taken from his essay on ' Democracy,' we see him first using the semi-
colon to produce a reflective pause in the mind of the reader, and then,
in the latter part of his sentence, using a comma in place of ' but ' follow-
ing the ' not only,' because he wished to reinforce his point without
resorting to antithesis :

I ' It is true that the advance of all classes in cvdture and refinement
|nay make the culture of one class, which, isolated, appeared remarkable,
lippear so no longer ; but exquisite cultm-e and great dignity are always
lomething rare and striking, and it is the distinction of the English
liristocracy, in the eighteenth century, that not only was their culture
lomething rare by comparison with the rawness of the masses, it was
lomething rare and admirable in itself.'

I Buskin affords ntunberless instances of good punctuation ; his artistic
ense of the fitness of things and his poetic gift of condensation enabling
lim to make effective use of the despised parenthesis succeeded by a
ilisjunctive semicolon in the following sentence, taken from The Crown
'/ Wild Olives :

! ' It does not follow, because you are general of an army, that you are
jo take all the treasure, or land, it wins (if it fight for treasure or land) ;
leither, because you are king of a nation, that you are to consume all
ihe profits of a nation's work.'

I Walter Pater, an artist in things great and small, studied so to balance
jis sentences by punctuation that the train of thought, while still con-
;inued in its natural mental order, was slowed down by semicolons at
;atural resting-places before a new phase of the same idea was presented
) the reader's consideration. Who but Pater would have used the
ash, without upsetting his material, in the following long sentence,
iken from Marius the Epicurean :

' To keep the eye clear by a sort of exquisite personal alacrity and

^eanliness, extending even to his dwelling-place ; to discriminate, eVer

jiore and more fastidiously, select form and colour in things from what

as less select; to meditate much on beautiful visible objects, on objects,

ore especially, connected with the period of youth — on children at

Ay in the morning, the trees in early spring, on young animals, on the

^hions and amusements of yoimg men ; to keep ever by him if it were

lit a single choice flower, a graceful animal, or sea-shell, as a token and

presentative of the whole kingdom of such things ; to avoid jealously,

his way through the world, everything repugnant to sight ; and,

ould any circumstance tempt him to a general converse in the range

such objects, to disentangle himself from that circumstance at any

lori

lay

cost of place, money, or opportunity ; such were, in brief outline, the
duties recognised, the rights demanded, in this new formula of life.'

Robert Louis Stevenson's literary acuteness in getting the most out of
his semicolons up to a certain point, after which he abandons them to
pUe up his cidmination with the shorter commas, is well seen in the
following sentence, taken from An Inland Voyage :

' I take it, in short, that I was as near Nirvana as would be convenient
in practical life ; and, if this be so, I make the Buddhists my sincere
comphments ; 't is an agreeable state, not very profitable in a money
point of view, but very calm, golden, and incurious, and one that sets a
man superior to alarms.'

Here are five writers, all selected without much deliberation, and the
passages from their works taken from the place where the book chanced
to open. In none of them is there any effort apparent to the eye of the
casual reader to make punctuation an end in itself ; the sense, the rhythm
and the appearance of the sentence in print, commend themselves
unhesitatingly to the taste and to the understanding. Yet, let the
semicolons and commas which buoy the channel of thought be removed,
and the diSiculty of replacing them will readily be discovered. It is
safe to say that no ordinary proof reader, and, perhaps, few editors,
would be able to mark the channel again as it was originally laid out.
There has been a great deal too much levelling- down of late years in
matters of typography."

ME. MARION CEAWFOED AT HOME.

A WHITER in the New York Critic thus describes Mr. Marion
Crawford's home and home life at Sorrento, in Italy.

" ViUa Crawford" is carved over the doorway in plain block letters.
The heavy dark-green doors of the gate stand hospitably open, and
show the straight narrow drive, bordered with roses, geraniums,
and jasmine, and leading down to a square garden-court, not large,
but full of flowers and crooked old olive-trees, over which wistaria
has been trained from one to the other, so that in spring they are
a mass of delicate bloom and fragrance. The house is very simple,
built of rough stone partly stuccoed, as usual in that part of Italy,
and irregular in shape because it has been added to from time to
time. When Mr. Crawford first took it for a season, soon after his
marriage to a daughter of General Berdan, it was in such a very
tumbledown condition that when the fierce winter gales swept over
snow-clad Vesuvius from the noith-east, the teeth of every lock
chattered, and the carpets rose in billows along the tUed floors.
But the site is one of the most beautiful on the whole bay, for the
house stands on the edge of a cliff which falls abruptly nearly two
hundred feet to the water, and since Mr. Crawford bought it he
has strengthened it with a solid tower, which can be seen for some
distance out at sea.

The front door opens directly upon a simple hall where there
are plants in tubs, and a tall old monastery clock stands near
the door leading to the stone staircase. The long drawing-room
opens upon a tiled terrace, and is almost always full of sunshine,
the scent of flowers, and the voices of children. It cannot be
said to be furnished in the modem style, but it contains many
objects which could only have been collected by people having
both taste and opportunity. ... A door leads from one
end of the drawing-room into the library, a high square room
completely lined with old carved bookcases of black walnut,
buUt more than two hundred years ago for Cardinal Altieri
before he became Pope Clement the Tenth, and of which the
wanderings, down to their final sale, would be au interesting bit
of Eoman social history. The library is not a workroom, but the
place where the author's books are kept in careful order, those he
needs at any time being carried up to his study, and brought down
again when no longer wanted. There are about five thousand
volumes, very largely books of reference and classics, partly
collected by the author himself, and in part inherited from his
uncle, the late Samuel Ward, and his father-in-law. General
Berdan. The room is so fuU that one large bookcase has been placed
in the middle, so that both sides of it are used. Besides the books
the library contains only a writing table, three or four chairs, and
a bronze bust of Mr. Ward.

In describing Mr. Crawford's four "strikingly handsome
children," the Critic writer says that the youngest is bent on being
a sailor-man, a disposition, he continues, which he inherits fairly,
for Mr. Crawford's friends know that if he might have consulted
only the natural bent of his mind he would have followed the sea
aa a profession. From early boyhood he has passed the happiest

282

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Feb. 26, 1898.

hours of his leisure on board a boat, and he is as proficient m the
management of the picturesque but dangerous Itaban felucca as
any native skipper along the coast. .,„„„,_

When he bought an old New York pilot boat in 1896 he was
admitted to the examination of the Association of American Ship-
masters in consideration of his long experience, and he holds
a proper shipmaster's certificate authorising him to navigate saihng
vessels on the high seas. He proved his abiUty by navigating his
little schooner across the Atlantic with entire success, and without
the slightest assistance from the mate he took witli him. This
episode in a life which has had more variety than falls to the lot of
most men, shows clearly the predominant trait of Marion Crawford's
character,' which is determination to follow out anything he under-
takes to learn until he knows how it should be done, even if he
has not the time to work at it much afterwards. Eeaders of Casa
Braceio may have noticed that the old cobbler, who is Paul
Qrigg's friend, is described with touches which show acquaintance
with his trade, the fact being that while the author was preparing
for college in the English village which he described later in A
Tale of a Lotiely Pm-ish, he made a pair of shoes "to see how it
was done," as he also joined the local bell-ringers to become
familiar with the somewhat complicated system of peals a,nd
chimes. Mere curiosity is like the clutch of a child's hand, which
usually means nothing, and may break what it seizes, but the in-
satiable thirst for knowledge of all kinds is entirely different, and
has always formed part of the true artistic temperament.

The description of silver chiselling in Mania's Crucifix is the
result of actual experience, for Mr. Crawford once studied this
branch of art, and produced several objects of considerable promise.
In rebuilding and adding to his house he has never employed an
architect, for he is a good practical builder and stonemason, as
well as a creditable mathematician, and his foreman in aU such
work is a clever labourer who can neither read nor write. Like
many left-handed men, he is skilful in the use of tools, and his
mechanical capacity was tested recently when, having taken out a
complete system of American plumbing, including a kitchen boiler,
he could find no workmen who understood such appliances, and so
put them all in himself, with the help of two or three x^lumbers
whose knowledge did not extend beyond soldering a joint. AVhen
the job was done, everything worked perfectly, to his justifiable
satisfaction. As he is a very fair classical scholar and an excellent
linguist he could easily support himself as a tutor if it were neces-
sary, or he might even attain to the awfid dignity of a high-class
courier. . . . Mr. Cra^rford is an early riser, being usually at his
writing-table between six and seven o'clock. If it is winter he
lights his own fire, and in any season begins the day, like most
people who have lived much in southern countries, with a small cup
of black coffee and a pipe. About nine o'clock he goes down-
stairs to spend an hour with his wife and children, and then returns
to his study and works iminterruptedly until luncheon, which in
summer is an early dinner. In warm weather the household
goes to sleep immediately after this meal, to re-assemble towards
five o'clock ; but the author often works straight through this time,
always, however, giving the late afternoon and evening to his
family.

SOME APHOEI8M8.

V. GOETUE.

Our Paris correspondent's views on Goethe and his genius were
very frankly expressed in our issue of February 5. Whether
Goethe's fame is about to decline or not, it is probable that few will
venture to question his worldly wisdom, his profound experience of
the good and evil of life. It is in his collected Maxims that these
qualities may be most easily discovered by English readers. They
have been translated with great care by Mr. Bailey Saunders, and
it is from his collection that we take the following examples of
Goethe's counsels and ojiinions :

How can a man come to know himself ? Never by thinking, but
by doing. Try to do your duty, and you will know at once what
you are worth.

The most insignificant man can be complete if he works within
the limits of his capacities, innate or acquired ; but even fine
talents can be obscured, neutralised, and destroyed by lack of this

indispensable requirement of symmetry. This is a mischief whic'^
will often occur in modem times ; for who wiU be able to come u;
to the claims of an age so full and intense as this, and one, too, tha
moves so rapidly ?

It is a great error to take oneself for more than one is, or for les
than one is worth.

Character calls forth character.

I keep silence about many things, for I do not want to pn
people out of countenance ; and I am well content if they ai
pleased with things that annoy me. '

Piety is not an end, but a means : a means of attaining tb
highest culture by the purest tranquillity of soul.

Whoso is content with pure experience and acts upon it hi
enough of truth. The growing child is wise in this sense.

Certain minds must be allowed their peculiarities.

Everyone has his peculiarities and cannot get rid of them ; an
yet many a one is destroyed by his peculiarities, and those, too, o
the most innocent kind.

A state of things in which every day brings some new troub
is not the right one.

The really foolish thing in men who are otherwise intelligent
that they fail to understand what another person says, when h
does not exactly hit upon the right way of saying it.

No one should desire to live in irregular circumstances ; but if I
chance a man falls into them, they test his character and show
how much detennination he is capable.

No one is the master of any truly productive energy ; and all mi
must let it work on by itself.

A man cannot live for every one ; least of all for those with who
he would not care to live.

The en-ors of a man are what make him really lovable.

There is no use in reproving vulgarity, for it never changes.

Women's society is the element of good manners.

Wlien we live with people who have a delicate sense of what
fitting, we get quite anxious about them if anything happens
disturb this sense.

There is no outward sign of politeness that will be found to la
some deep moral foundation. The right kind of education woi;
be that which conveyed the sign and the foundation at the sai
time.

There is a politeness of the heart, and it is allied to love,
produces the most agreeable politeness of outward demeanour.

We generally take men to be more dangerous than they are.

If anyone meets us who owes us a debt of gratitude,
immediately crosses our mind. How often can we meet some o i
to whom we owe gratitude, without thinking of it !

By nothing do men show their character more than by the tliii;'
they laugh at.

A man well on in years was reproved for still troubling hims i
about young women. "It is the only means," he replied, ' :
regaining one's youth; and that is something every one wish
to do."

To praise a man is to put oneself on his level.

Nothing is more highly to be prized than the value of each da.

The mind endowed with active jiowers and keeping witbi
practical object to the task that lies nearest, is the worthiest th )
is on earth.

Let every man ask himself with which of his faculties he can i '
will somehow influence his age.

Character in matters great and small consists in a man stea( f
pm-suing the things of which he feels himself capable.

The public must be treated like women: they must be (i
absolutely nothing but what they like to hear.

How many years must a man do nothing before he can at U
know what is to be done and how to do it !

Feb. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

233

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1898.

No. 1347, New Series.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

CAMBEIDGE should be proud of Mr.
J. G. Frazer. In his edition of
Pausanias^s Bescription of Greece, whicli
Messrs. Alacmillan have just published, he
tias performed single-handed a feat of
research and scholarship which compares
with Gibbon's Beeline and Fall of the Roman
Empire. At a time when so much is said
)f the diversion of all literary activity into
fictional channels, it is well that such a
reminder shoidd be forthcoming that there
ire patient scholars at work, and that
mother public than that of Mudie's eagerly
iwaits their work.

The pains that went to Mr. Frazer's
previous work. The Golden Bough, that
;3xtraordinary study of primitive customs
land religions, though excessive, must have
jbeen surpassed by the Pausanias, which, in
jiddition to the translation, contains four
tiuge volumes of notes, fairly to be
llescribed as exhaustive, and another volume
ijf index. To learn one's way about the
[folumes is in itself a considerable achieve-
nent.

At tlie close of Mr. Frazer's preface is
;he following quiet and beautiful passage :
1 "The windows of my study look on the
:;ranquil court of an ancient college, where the
|mndial marks the silent passage of the hours,
iind in the long summer days the fountain
plashes drowsily amid flowers and grass;
yhere, as the evening shadows deepen, the
iJghts come out in the blazoned windows
j)f the Elizabethan hall, and from the chapel
the sweet voices of the choir, blent with the
peahng music of the organ, float on the
,>eaceful air, telling of man's eternal aspira-
oons after truth and goodness and immortahty.
!Jere, if anywhere, remote from the tumult and
,)ustle of the world, with its pomps and vanities
|ind ambitions, the student may hope to hear
j'he still voice of truth, to penetrate through

the little transitory questions of the hour to the
realities which abide, or rather which we fondly
think must abide, while the generations come
and go. I cannot be too thankful that I have
been allowed to spend so many quiet and happy
years in such a scene, and when I quit my old
college rooms, as I soon shall do, for anuther
home in Cambridge, I shall hope to carry
forward to new work in a lew scene the love
of study and labour which has been, not
indeed implanted, but fostered and cherished in
this ancient home of learning and peace."

Cambridge may put this passage against
Matthew Arnold's eulogy of Oxford in the
preface to his Essays in Criticism.

Not the least interesting feature of the
trial of M. Zola is the opportunity it has
given Mr. David Christie Murray to prove
himself stiU a siiecial correspondent of un-
usual vividness and vigour. Mr. Murray is,
of course, heart and soul with the novelist,
and letters inspired by such zeal, and so
coloured with enthusiasm, are, of course,
more moving than letters written from a
dispassionate standpoint. For sheer in-
terest Mr. Murray's descriptions in the
Daily News have excelled those in any of
the papers.

This passage from Mr. Murray's descrip-
tion of Maitre Labori's speech will explain
his method :

" Time and again he awoke the auger of the
crowd, and time and again he jungled it down.
Whenever they raised a disdainful laugh at a
fact or an argument, he turned with a repeti-
tion of it more imcompromising than the
original, and the many interruptions seemed
a spm- to him. The words, ' A patriot hke
Zola,' evoked a storm of groans and hisses.
He turned like a lion. ' I say it. A patriot
like Zola — a patriot with a braver heart, a
clearer vision, a loftier love of his own land
than is owned by any of the shallow-minded
swallowers of phrases who rage at him. One
of these days you wiU recognise your own
foUy and his greatness.' He stood a second or
two, as if challenging a new outburst. There
was complete silence. ' Ah, well, then,' he
said, with a touch of fighting laughter in his
voice, ' I continue.' And he went back to his
arg^oient."

failure, and its comparative cleanliness is the
undoubted explanation of this. When a
writer makes a speciality he must stick to it
or suffer it to stick to him. M. Zola himself
complained that owing to the excitement
about the Dreyfus case nobody was reading
his novel. So rather than be left out in the
cold he plunged into the actuality of the
moment."

We prefer to take the other view of M.
Zola's intervention, and with all our heart
we sympathise with him in the sentence
passed upon him. Whether he has said true
or untrue things, ho was entitled to a fair
trial, and no one can pretend that he has
had it.

The partisan and cynical but exceedingly
able onlooker who has been writing on
the Dreyfus case for the Pall Mall Gazette
was allowed to print the following ' ' ex-
planation " of Zola's intervention : " What
Zola sees in this astounding Dreyfus case is
the material for another romance, centring
round the picturesque and eminently medias-
val figure of Major Esterhazy. And to be
sure of the denouement the author has ac-
corded to himself the beau rdle. The exi-
gencies of a gigantic sale, following upon a
"grand succcs de feuilleton," are known to
no one better than to M. Zola. His last two
works, in which the pornographic note is
strikingly absent, did not sell in such a way
as to satisfy the anticipations of either
author or publisher. Seventy thousand
copies were printed of Rome (it must be
remembered that a French publisher's
'edition de miUe' consists of only five
hundred copies), and of these only twenty
thousand have been disposed of. Paris
announced itself from the first as a dismal

It is to the honour of M. Anatole France
that he signed the letter of protestation in
favour of a revision of the Dreyfus trial,
and expressed in court his belief in M.
Zola's sincerity, inasmuch as he has already
expressed in print his views of Zola's
character and work. The passage appears
in the first volume of Za Vie Litteraire :

" That M. Emile Zola formerly had, I will
not say a great talent, but a large talent, is
possible. That he still retains some shreds of
it is credible, but I avow that I have all the
difficulty in the world to admit it. His work
is bad, and he is one of those unhappy beings of
whom it may be said that it would have been
better had they never been born. Truly I do
not deny to him his detestable glory. Nobody
before him has raised up so high a heap of
filth. That is his monument, the greatness of
which cannot be contested. Never did man
make an equivalent effort to rentier humanity
vile, to hurl insults at all the images of beauty
and of love, to deny all that is good and all
that is well. Never did man to such a point
misunderstand the ideal of man. There is in all
of us, in the little as iu the great, among the
humble and the proud, an instinct of beauty,
a desire for that which adorns and for that
which decorates, which, spread over the world,
constitute the charm of life. M. Zola does not
know it. There is in man an infinite need of
loving which renders him divine. M. Zola
does not know it. Desire and modesty
mingle iu certain souls in delicious grada-
tions. M: Zola does not know it. There
are upon earth magnificent forms and noble
thoughts ; there are pure souls and heroic
hearts. M. Zola does not know it. Many
weaknesses even, many errors and faults, have
their touching beauty. Their grief is sacred.
The holiness of tears is at the bottom of all
reUgions. Misfortime would suffice to render
man august to man. M. Zola does not know it.
He does not know that the Graces are decent,
that philosophic irony is indidgent and good-
tempered, and that human things inspire only
two sentiments to well-constructed minds —
admiration or pity. M. Zola is worthy of pro-
found pity."

The fact, says the New York Critic,
that the MS. of Waverley came near
destruction before it was discovered by Sir
Walter among his fishing-tackle so pro-
foundly affected one of the (central Penn-
sylvania) hearers of a University Extension
lecture, that his paper, presented to the
lecturer, contained this clause : " Happy it
was for English literature that this beacon-
light was not extinguished by the scissors of

234

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 26, 1898.

the maid near the morass, and under the
leaves had been buried the root of Scotch
literature."

Me. Dotjolas Sladen has improved Who'll
Who. To the new issue more than a thou-
sand new biographical notices have been
added. One is surprised to find how many
omissions there were in the 1897 volume.
Among those who join the ranks of the
Whoa for the first time are : Mr. "William
Blackwood, Mr. Blowitz, Mr. Stanhope
Forbes, Mr. David Hannay, Prof. W. P.
Ker, Mr. Alphonse Legros, Miss Olga
Nethersole, Mr. Joseph Pennell, Miss Ada
Eehan, Mr. J. St. Loe Strachey, and Mr.
Louis Zangwill. A useful and proper addi-
tion is an obituary list of persons whose
biographies appeared last year, and who
since, but not necessarily in consequence,
have died. These number nearly two
himdred.

A cAKEFtTL comparison of the biographies
woidd doubtless yield an interesting crop of
variations. We observe that one or two
men of note are no longer reticent about
their favourite amusements. Mr. John
Davidson, who last year did not, to all
appearance, recreate, now confesses that
" walking " is his solace. Mr. Bernard
Shaw no longer gives " cycHng and showing-
oil" as his amusements : his recreations for
the cun-ent year are " change of work.
Nature, Art, human intercourse — anything
except sport." But it would be premature
to say that Mr. Shaw is growing serioiis.
Sir Walter Besant still finds happiness in
" looking on." Last year we felt concerned
when we discovered that Dr. Gamett con-
fessed to no recreation. But now we are
relieved : " change of occupation and dolce
far niente " are his relaxations.

Among Who's Who's errors, which on a
casual survey are fewer than they were last
year, we note that Mr. Pett Eidge is stated to
have been appointed Secretary to Bayne,
M.P., in 1897. " Secretary to Bayne, M.P.,"
we believe, is not Mr. Eidge's employment,
but the title of one of his books. Mr.
Allen Upward, we observe, is credited with
having taken part in the " invasion of
Turkey" in 1897. Surely it was Greece.
And Mr. Le GaUienne is said to have com-
posed a "prose" translation of Omar
Klayyam ; which is a hard saying.

The list of pseudonyms in Who's Who,
which last year was the same as that given
in Rttidl's Cyclopedia, has at length received
revision. No longer are we confronted
with the information that Mr. Gilbert once
styled himself " Tomline Latour," and that
"0. P. Q. Philander SmifE" was Mr. A. A.
Dowty. We are still told, however, that
"Ally Sloper " is Mr. C. H. Eoss, and that
both Mark Eutheriord and Eeuben Shapcott
are W. Hale White, which, strictly speaking,
is not the fact. Because a novelist professes
to edit the writings of certain mythical
persons he does not necessarily employ
their names as pseudonjons.

Wk trust that the indisposition which
prevents Mr. James Payn from writing

" Our Note-Book " in the lllwtraUd London
News this week, will not be of long duration.
His cheery pen can ill be missed.

Sir William Harootjrt's adaptation of
Moore in his speech at Bury leads to a very
terrible suspicion. The speaker said :

" You may break, you may shatter the vase if
you will,
But the scent of the Liberal will hang round
him stUl."

Can Sir William Harcourt really pronounce
Liberal as a dissyllable ?

Mr. John D. Barry, the New York corres-
pondent of the Literary World (Boston,
Mass.), is always readable, but, like our-
selves, he is sometimes a little wrong in his
facts. Mr. Barry's dearest friend could not
say that the following piece of news he
gives his readers is quite accurate :

" This is the volume [Mr. Phillips's Poems']
that was ' crowned ' a few weeks ago by the
recently formed English Academy as the best
book of the year, the author receiving, in
addition to the honour, the very substantial
sum of five hundred guineas."

In his Pall Mall Magazine gossip Mr.
QuiUer Couch comes with spirit to the
defence of WiUiam Barnes, the Dorsetshire
poet, against his latest — and, so far as we
know, only — detractor, Mr. Lang. In a
recent criticism Mr. Lang referred to the
author of Rural Poems in the Dorset Diahct
as " a weariful writer of misspelled English,
called 'dialect.'"

" Well," says Q., " Mr. Lang may call Barnes
weariful, an he Ust. This is a free country, at
least to the extent that any man who chooses
may yawn over ' Zummer Winds ' or ' The Wife
a-Lost.' But I confess that ' misspelled English,
called "dialect,"' sticks in my throat. May
I even say that it gars me fash mysel' extra-
ordinar' ? Hech, mon, an' havena the braw
Scots a'ready stown the cuddie, but ye maun
geok an' tak' the gee gif a pujr Southron gangrel
cock an e'e attowre the dyke. Excuse me : I
have not the knack of it. But I believe that
' stown the cuddie ' is good, or g^de, or guid,
Scots for ' stolen the donkey ' (though, oddly
enough, ' tak' the gee ' does not mean ' steal
the horse'), and I was attempting to say that
it seems hard that a Scotsman should be allowed
to walk off with the animal while an EngUsh-
man may not so much as look over the hedge."

Our sympathies are both with Mr. Couch
and with Mr. Lang : with Mr. Couch in his
eulogy of Barnes, and with Mr. Lang in his
misfortune of finding Barnes "weariful."

In connexion with "misspelled English
called ' dialect ' " we may mention for the
information of those interested in the
subject, that Mr. E. W. Prevost's Glossary
of Cumberland Words and Phrases is now
sufficiently near publication to be ordered.
It may be obtained of Messrs. Bemrose &
Sons, London.

An idea of the method of the authors of
the most facile variety of serial fiction and
penny dreadfuls may be gained from the
account of the latest strike. In a street off
Brunswick-square, Bloomsbury, dwells an
imaginative man whose business is the pro-
duction of lurid romances of the cheapest

kind. To assist him, he has a staff o
"ghosts," to whom he dictates plots, leavin;
it to them to fill in dialogue and deaths. The)
salary ranges from thirty shillings a week t
two pounds, and as a rule the relation
between themselves and the master mind at
amicable enough. A few days ago, howevei
one of these assistants was so unwise as t
kill off a hero before the time was ripe, an-
he was in consequence dismissed. Tb
result was that the rest of the staff d(
cided as a protest to " come out," and tb
author is now alone, striving to collect h
memories of each story, and again ply h
unaccustomed pen.

The most exquisite living delineator <
children, M. Boutet de Monvel, is no
visiting America in connexion with a
exhibition of his works in New York ar
other cities. He also expects to paint
number of portraits. Among the exhibi
are the water-colour drawings made for tl
work on Joan of Arc which the arti
himself wrote.

In the "Paris Letter" of a litera:
journal is the following passage : " W
W. E. Norris has been here [in Paris] tc
I sat next to him at a dinner party not loi
ago, and so modest was he, and so tactle
the hostess, that I discovered only the folic
ing day who my neighbour had been
Whether to felicitate or to condole wi
the novelist is the problem.

Among other manifestations of welcon
which greeted Mr. Kipling on his arrival
the Cape was a set of verses somewhat
his own manner, contributed by Mr. Edg
Wallace, a private soldier, to the Cape Tim
Three of the stanzas ran thus :

" You 'ave met us iu the tropics, you 'ave n
us in the snows ;
But mostly in the Punjab an' the 'His.
You 'ave seen us in Mauritius, where t
naughty cyclone blows,
You 'ave met us underneath a sun tl
kiUs,

An' we grills !
An' I ask you, do we fill the bloomin' bil

But you're our particular author, you're (
patron an' our friend.
You're the poet of the cuss-word an' i '
swear.
You're the poet of the people, where the n
mapped lands extend,
You're the poet of the jungle an' the laii

An' compare,
To the ever-speaking voice of everywhei

There are poets what can please you wi
their primrose vi'let lays.
There are poets wot can drive a man '
drink;
But it takes a ' pukka ' poet, in a Patri( ;
Craze, _ ,

To make a chortlin' nation squitni
shrink.

Gasp an' bUnk : .

An' 'eedless, thoughtless people atop i'

think ! "

The body of literature that has Mr. Kiplii s

influence as its direct inspiration must e

growing very bulky.

Feb. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

236

The second instalment of the remi-
niscences of tte late Q-eorge du Maurier in
Harper^s is notable for the writer's eulogy
of Charles Keene. This is good : "I heard
a celebrated French painter say : ' He is a
great man, yoiir Charles Keene ; he take
lii pen and ink and a bit of paper, and wiz a
lialf-dozen strokes he know 'ow to frame a
mist of wind ! ' "

An appeal has been made in the Times
[for funds to place a memorial to Jane
lAusten in Winchester Cathedral. The
signatories are Lord Northbrook, Lord
ISelborne, Mr. W. W. B. Beach and
Mr. Montagu G. Knight. They say :
•'The only memorial of her (beyond the
jtone slab which marks the site of her
[jrave) is a brass tablet let into the wall,
.Thich was placed there by her nephew and
liographer, the late Eev. J. E. Austen
[(ieigh, in 1870. "We feel that we should be
jippealing to a large circle of warm admirers,
j.vho have been charmed and cheered by her
[.rorks, if we ask for subscriptions to enable
Us to fill one of the windows in the
cathedral with painted glass in her memory.
jChe selection of the window will depend
Upon the amount of support that we may
■eceive. The cost of a window in the Lady
;]hapel is estimated at £600, of one in the
lave £300. We may add that our proposal
las the cordial approval of the Dean of
.Vinchestcr. Contributions not exceeding
ive guineas may be paid to Messrs. Hoare,
■7, Fleet-street, London, who have kindly
onsentod to act as treasurers of the fund."

Meanwhile, we understand that a memorial
p Jane Austen of another kind is being
repared by a London publisher, in the
liape of a new and distinguished edition of
er works.

Another memorial is foreshadowed in a
peech of the Dean of Lichfield on Wednes-
ay. He is not, he says, satisfied that his
sheme, made two years ago, to purchase
)r. Johnson's birthplace at Lichfield and
jjnvert it into a permanent Johnson
luseum, has been sufficiently explained
nd encouraged, and he intends to persevere
•ith it.

^ Already several inventive authors, who
;now what opportunism is, have produced
uaginative stories of Klondike. In course
if time we may expect genuine Klondike
iterature to follow. The diggings are
lirtain to produce their own historian,
peanwhile, the Yukon Herald offers a fore-
.ste of the local quality in the following
Klondike Epitaph " :

" A cuss named Watuoy lies below —
Leastwise he said that was his name,

He struck the town a mouth ago —
The sort of chap that thaws the same.

Ho started out to make it hot—

^Oiich might be welcome later on.

When mercury, as like as not.
Won't have no elevator on.

He was a little premature —
That's all ; for in the heat of it

H" olftimpd the earth— likewise, dead sure,
He's got about six feet of it."

The inspiration, we should imagine, was
Mark Twain's lyric, "He done his level

best."

A LITTLE whUe ago Mr. W. S. Gilbert,
writing on the subject of Fiji's meridian,
presented librettists with the groimdwork
of a plot. In return, we offer Mr. Gilbert
subject matter for a new Bab ballad. Tina
di Lorenzo, the Italian actress, recently
played at Budapest. An advocate and ex-
deputy, named Pazmandy, criticised her
acting with some severity, and went on to
affirm that the actress had formerly been a
member of the Sultan's harem. This state-
ment, says the Morning Post's correspondent,
from whom we quote, aroused great indig-
nation on the part of the actress, an action
for libel against Pazmandy on the part of
her father, another action for damages
against Pazmandy by the manager of the
theatre, a public protest, signed by five
Italians on behalf of the Italian colony of
Budapest, and, finally, a telegraphic offer
of marriage to the actress from an anony-
mous Hungarian magnate residing abroad.
The beautiful Tina de Lorenzo asked for
twenty-four hours in which to reflect. The
rest — we leave to Mr. Gilbert.

Apropos our notice last week of twenty-
one minor poets, Mr. G. F. Leatherdale
sends us the following simple and touching
verses, entitled "A Minor Poet's Testa-
ment " :

" I take with me what soul remains
Outside the casket of my verse.
I leave my monetary gains
To hire a hearse,

Such as lies open in the breeze,

And wears no blackness to appal
One little curious child who sees
My funeral.

Before my short procession trots

Demurely through suburban ways,
Bring me a few forget-me-nots
Instead of bays.

Those httle buds were bom to hold,

Each, one small glimpse of summer sky.
Not published to be largely sold —
And such was I.

So, while the children linger near,

I, being dead, shall speak to them

And set with many a glittering tear

My diadem."

The newest firm of publishers is that of
Messrs. Duckworth & Co., who will shortly
begin to issue books from premises in
Henrietta-street. Mr. Gerald Duckworth
is associated with Mr. A. E. Waller,
the editor of Montaigne in the " Temple
Classics." One of the first publications of the
firm willbe a series of studies in biography by
Mr. Leslie Stephen. Another enterj)rise
wUl be a new series of Lives of the Saints
in separate volumes. These Lives wiU be
issued by arrangement with the editor and
publisher of the French collection. The
English authorised translations are being
revised by the Eev. Father Tyrrell, S.J.,
who wiU contribute a preface to each
volume.

It has been found necessary to delay the
publication in this country of the new novel
American Wives and English Huslands, by
Gertrude Atherton, the authoress of Patience
Sparhaw^, in order to secure simidtaneous
publication in America. Messrs. Service
& Paton hope to issue the volume about the
middle of March.

Mr. Frederic Breton has just completed
a romance of the sixteenth century which he
will publish through Mr. Grant Eichards.
His aim has been to give a living picture of
the times rather than to write a mere ad-
venture story. The plot is laid mainly in
Basle, the Athens of the Swiss Confedera-
tion, a free city of the Holy Eoman Empire
at the beginning of the period, and foremost
in that struggle for political reform which
preceded the Eeformation. Incidentally
the story introduces various weU-known
characters — Paracelsus, Erasmus of Eotter-
dam, Frobenius the printer, and others.
The title is Bear Heart.

Mr. George Saintsbury has written a
paper, called "Novels of University Life,"
for the March number of Macmillan's Maga-

zine.

Herr Jonas Stadling, the Swedish jour-
nalist whodescribed in the November Century
"Andree's Flight into the Unknown," has
written for the March number of that
magazine an account of "Andree's Mes-
senger." The only word that has been
received from Andree since his departure
was brought by carrier pigeon. The bird
was killed by a whaler and fell into the sea.
Aiterwards the whaler learned that the
bird might possibly bear a message from
the explorer, and the ship sailed back, and
by chance the body of the bird was
recovered.

Some time ago the letters and journals of
William Cory, the author of lonica, were
printed at the Oxford University Press for
private circulation. Mr. Frowde is now
about to publish some of the results of Cory's
experience as a schoolmaster recorded in an
MS. journal dated 1862, and described as
"Hints for Eton Masters," although the
little book has a much wider scope than this
title would imply.

The author of Murray Murgatroyd, Jour-
nalist, is Mr. Charles Morice, not Morier, as
stated in our last issue.

The English translation of Huysmans'
romance. La Cathedrah, will be published
by Messrs. Kegan Paul & Co. in the course
of the next few days. The translation has
been prepared by Mrs. Clara Bell, and
edited by Mr. C. Kegan Paul, who was
responsible for the English version of -£"«
Route. Mr. Paul also writes a brief intro-
ductory note dealing with certain aspects of
Huysmans' work ft-om a Catholic standpoint.

The March number of the Genealogical
Magazine will contain an article by " X " on
" The Eight to bear Arms."

236

THE ACADEMY.

HPeb. 26, 1898.

A BALLAD OF BEADING GAOL *

Its subject matter is simple. A soldier is
in gaol imder sentence of death for murder.
One of his fellow prisoners records the
effect upon himself on learning the soldier's
fate, his growing horror as the morning
of execution draws near, the terrors of the
night immediately preceding it, and the
emotions that follow. The document is
authentic: hence its worth. The poem is
not great, is not entirely trustworthy ; but
in so far as it is the faithful record of
experiences through which the writer —
C.3.3.— has passed, it is good literature.
According to its sincerity so is it valuable :
where the author goes afield and becomes
philosophic and self-conscious and inventive
he forfeits our interests ; but so long as he
honestly reproduces emotion he holds it. To
feel and chronicle sensations is his peculiar
gift : in the present work, at any rate, he is
not a thinker. Nor should he have attempted
humour. Such a stanza as this is not
the way in which to depict the horrors of
hanging :

" It is sweet to dance to violins

When Love and Life are fair :
To dance to flutes, to dance to lutes,

Is delicate and rare :
But it is not sweet with nimble feet

To dance upon the air ! "

From the 109 stanzas we would indeed like
to remove some fifty ; yet take it for all in
all the ballad as it stands is a remarkable
addition to contemporary poetry.

On the night preceding the execution the
narrator of the story and many of his
companions slept not at all, although the
doomed man

' ' lay as one who lies and dreams
In a pleasant meadow-land,
The watchers watched him as he slept

And could not understand
How one could sleep so sweet a sleep
With a hangman close at hand."

The hours dragged wearily on. And then,
after an agony of waiting —

" At last I saw the shadowed bars,
Like a lattice wrought in lead,
Move right across the whitewashed wall

That faced my three-plank bed,
And I knew that somewhere in the world
God's dreadful dawn was red."

That stanza gives very vividly the prisoner's
isolation, his remoteness from the busy hum
of men. The executed man uttered one groan :
" And all the woe that moved him so
That he gave that bitter cry,
And the wUd regrets, and the bloody sweats.

None knew so well as I :
For he who lives more lives than one
More deaths than one must die."

The last two lines sum up as simply and
forcibly as may be the penalty of an excess
of imaginative sympathy.

Here, again, is a stanza wherein the
baldest directness and brevity do the poet's
work better than a regiment of words :

" There is no chapel on the day

On which they hang a man :
The chaplain's heart is far too sick.

Or his face is far too wan,
Or there is that written in his eyes

Which none should look upon."

* The Ballad of Reading Gaol. By C.3.3.
(Leonard Smithers.)

The prisoners, therefore, were kept indoors
until noon. Then they were permitted to
exercise :

" I never saw sad men who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that Uttle tent of blue

We prisoners called the sky,
And at every happy cloud that passed
In such strange freedom by."

That is a good stanza ; but its excellence
has been a snare to its author. Previously
in the ballad he uses it twice with slight
alterations, in both cases in describing the
condemned man. Surely it is a mistake to
apply the same words both to a prisoner on
the bottom step of the scaffold and to his
comrades just losing the terror caused by
his death. This is one of the historian's
occasional lapses into invention. He is not
as whole-souled a battler for truth as he
should be, and when he falls back on his
imagination he is not well enough served.
Truth (if they only knew it) is the best
friend that non-creative writers have.

To continue, the description of the exercise
in the yard is the occasion for these biting
lines :

" The warders strutted up and down,
And watched their herd of brutes.

Their uniforms were spick and span.
And they wore their Sunday suits ;

But we knew the work they had been at
By the quicklime on their boots.

Finally, let us quote this picture of what
life in prison means to a sensitive nature —
one of the passages which make the poem
notable :

" With midnight always in one's heart,
And twilight in one's cell.
We turn the crank, or tear the rope,

Each in his separate Hell,
And the silence is more awful far
Than the sound of a brazen bell.

And never a human voice comes near

To speak a gentle word :
And the eye that watches through the door

Is pitiless and hard :
And by all forgot, we rot and rot,

With soul and body marred.

And thus we rust Life's iron chain

Degraded and alone :
And some men ciu"se, and some men weep.

And some men make no moan :
But God's eternal Laws are kind

And break the heart of stone."

These extracts should be sufficient to
assist any reader to a decision whether to buy
the book and read more or to rest content.
They have also probably recalled the
author's poetical model ; but if not, we
might point out that it is, of course. Hood's
"Dream of Eugene Aram." The intensity
to which both poets — both Hood and
C.3.3. — occasionally attain proves the
fitness of this metre for such a subject.
Curiously enough, the new ballad is, to
some extent, supplemental of the older
one : " The Dream of Eugene Aram " is the
record of a murderer's own emotions and
impulses ; Tlte Ballad of Reading Gaol shows
us the emotions and impulses excited in his
companions by a murderer doomed to die
and dying. Hood's work is, we think, the
finer of the two : it has more concentration.

its author had more nervous strength, wi
a more dexterous master of words, w!
superior to morbidity and liysteria ; y
pruned of its extraneous stanzas the ne
ballad is a worthy companion to i
exemplar.

EDUCATION FOR THE CIVIL
SERVICE OF INDIA.

By a Former Member of the BenOj
Civil Service.

II. — The Training of Selected Candidati

When the Civil Service of India was fii
thrown open to competition the suceessf
candidates proceeded to India witho
further training in this country. Th'
passed their period of probation at tl
headquarters of the presidencies to whii
they were appointed, being already in t
service ; but, after a few years, when tl
pressing need of men that had followed (
the great Mutiny was no longer felt, tl
system was introduced of keeping tl
selected candidates, officially styled prob
tioners, under special training for two yea
before they went out to India. During th
time they studied the Laws, Language
and History of India, General Jurisprudeni
Roman Law, Political Economy ; their pi
gress was tested by periodical examin
Sons, which varied in number at differe
periods ; and seniority in the service was d
termined, sometimes by the combined mar
of the Entrance and Final Examinatioi
and sometimes by those of the latter alor
The former method of determining seniori
is that now again adopted, and it certain
is the fairer of the two ; but the practice
having only one examination of select
candidates seems a mistake, as I said in i
former paper, and one year of special stU'
in this country, not followed by any
India, is too short. The question of t
age of entry into the service is that
which everything turns, and if that be i •
again lowered (as I hope it may), it is i .
practicable either to extend the period :
probation or to enlarge the field of study.
Under the system which was abandon ,
five years ago. General Jurisj)rudence, E .
dence, Indian Civil Law, Political Econon
and History and Geography of India w( i
compulsory subjects of examination,
addition to those which are so stiU ■
vernacular languages, the Criminal Cod,
and the Indian Evidence and Contract Ac
It is to be regretted that so many subje i
of the highest importance are now neglects .
and I cannot but think that the traini:
is thus less suited to its purpose than tl j
which it has superseded. The standard :
attainment in the vernaculars, too, is c
necessity lower than it used to be, a I
thus one great element of efficiency >
weakened. The young civilian who is \i '
grounded in the language in which most t
his work must be done is not onlyavi'
valuable officer, but will secure the respt
and liking of the natives, and the duties i
his service will not, as a rule, leave mH
time for study; it is, therefore, of 8

Feb. 26, 1898.J

THE ACADEMY.

237

, highest importance that considerable pro-
, gress should be made before he enters on his
administrative duties. Again, his functions
I wUl, speaking generally, be either judicial
or connected with the revenue, as Magi-
' strate and Collector or Judge, in ascending
i grades.

For either of these lines one would say
that a thorough training in the principles of
Jurisprudence, Evidence, Political Economy,
History of India, Hindu and Moham-
medan Law, and Indian Civil Procedure
was essential. Yet not one of these
subjects is now compulsory, and a scrutiny
lof the optional subjects chosen for the Final
lExamination — which subjects include the
ilast four of those just named — shows that
;only the two last, which may be called the
ICommon Law of India, are much studied.
Nor is the necessary training supplied
by previous study for entrance into the
service.

A mere handfid of the successful candi-
dates take Roman or English Law, not much
over one-third take Political Economy, Indian
History is not a subject of examination, and
that very favourite subject " Political
Science " does not seem at all adequately
to supply the sound knowledge that is
wanted for an Indian administrator, but
rather suggests a sixth-form debating so-
ciety. Another subject that used to form
part of the special training was attendance
in the Courts of Law, civil and criminal,
and reporting cases. This training was
nvaluable, and should certainly be
•evived. Nothing is more instructive
;lian to see how a London Police Magi-
strate, a County Court judge, or a judge
)f the High Court grasps the facts of a
iase, controls the procedure, and sums up
he evidence — and nothing is more required
3y the young civilian. The number of
;ases to be reported might be less than it
ised to be, but some reports should be
•equired.

As to the place where a probationer will
)as8 his year of study, his choice wiU lie
iracticaUy between Oxford, Cambridge, and
jondon. What I said in my former article
i the utter abandonment of the field by the
Scotch and Irish Universities need not
repeated ; but until they provide
.dequate instruction in all the prin-
ipal subjects, the Secretary of State's
lery wise rule against " migration " will
jirevent any candidates from residing
!,t them.

Edinburgh, therefore, to take one in-
tance, is making a useless pretence of zeal
b offering fifty lectures on the optional
Jubject of Indian History! I earnestly
ope the Secretary of State and his Council
lay restore the abandoned courses of Law,
listory, and Political Economy ; lower the
go for entrance into the service ; and
mgthen the period of probation. All those
iieasures are, as I hope I have shown,
squired in the interests of India.

A Late Member of the Bengal
Civil Service.

THE WEEK,

THE most hardened reviewer, the most
_ blas^ watcher of the literary skies, must
receive with astonishment and admiration
the six volumes of Mr. J. G. Frazer's trans-
lation of Tausanias' Description of Greece,
and commentaries thereon. It is not often
that a work of such mag^tude comes from
one hand, or that six volumes of one such
work are published together. We shall give
a swift idea of the magnitude of Mr. Frazer's
undertaking when we say that his volumes
contain, together, considerably more than
three thousand pages. Mr. Frazer intro-
duces the work as follows :

"My aim has been to give a faithful and
idiomatic rendering of Pausanias, and to illus-
trate and supplement his description of Greece
by the remains of antiquity and the aspect of
the country at the present day. The transla-
tion has been made, on the whole, from the
last complete recension of the text, that of
J. H. C. Schubart (Leipsic, 1853-1854). Ail
departures from that recension are recorded in
the Critical Notes, in which I have also essayed
to put together the more important suggestions
that have been made for the improvement of
the text since Schubart's edition was published.
The materials for an illustrative commentary
have been accumulated in great abundance by
travellers, scholars, and antiquaries, and my
task has been chiefly the humble one of con-
densing and digesting these copious, but
scattered, materials into a moderate compass
and a convenient form. But I have also
embodied the notes of several journeys which
I made in Greece for the sake of this work in
1890 and 1895."

We are told that the book is specially
designed for students at the universities,
but

"in order to render it intelligible to all who
interest themselves in ancient Greece, whether
they are scholars or not, I have given quota-
tions from foreign languages in English, and
have been at some pains to write as simply and
clearly as I could."

Mr. Juliax S. Cobbett's work. Brake and
the Tudor Navy, belongs to a class of books
which have of late years become very
popular. Drake's name and fame have
recently been revived by Mr. Henry
Newbolt's stirring ballad. In an enumera-
tion of Drake relics which he gives in his
Introduction, Mr. Corbett thus refers to the
now famous " drum " :

" At Buckland Abbey is a State dnmi
decorated with Drake's arms, on which it is
probable his last salute was beaten as he was
committed to the sea, and upon which the
legend says he may still be summoned when
England is in danger."

In treating of Drake's achievements Mr.
Corbett attempts " to give a general view of
the circumstances under which England
first became a controlling force in the
European system by virtue of her power
upon the sea." The dangers of identifying
a national movement too much with one
man — in this instance Drake — is recognised
by Mr. Corbett, who, however, writes :

" For the adoption of the method in the
present case history affords ample justification.

Not only was Drake intimately connected, in
all the various phases of his life, with every
aspect of the Elizabethan maritime upheaval,
but throughout Europe he was recognised and
applauded, even in his Ufetime, as the personi-
fication of the new political forces. Nor
has recent research disclosed any reason for
reversing the verdict of his contemporaries.
The romantic fascination of his career as a
corsair and explorer began, it is true, very
shortly after his death to overshadow his work
as an admiral and a statesman, but in his own
time it was not so; and a principal object of
the present work is to restore him to the
position he once held as one of the great military
figures of the Eeformation."

In happy conjunction with the above
biography of an Elizabethan naval hero
comes Sir John C. Dalrymple Hay's Line*
from, my Log-books. The author went aboard
his first ship, the Thalia, in 1834 ; and
since then he has served on no less than
twenty-two British warships. This book is
pleasantly anecdotal and inevitably inter-
esting ; and there are several lengthy
appendices interesting to naval readers.

Mr. Laurence Irving, whose Peter tJie
Great has just enjoyed the splendid dis-
tinction of being " acted " at the Lyceum,
appears this week as a literary dramatist.
A one-act medieeval play, entitied Godefroi
and Yolande. The scene of the play is "A
Spacious Hall in the Castle of Yolande " ;
and the principal characters are Philippe le
Bel, King of France ; the Archbishop and
his brother. Sir Sagramour, a young Paladin;
Godefroi, and Yolande.

The Rev. A. G. B. Atkinson, Curate of
St. Botolph, Aldgate, has written a careful
and complete history of his church and
parish in one convenient volume. History
connects this parish with early Saxon times;
and the present church is the third in descent
from the original church raised at about the
time of the Norman conquest. The records of
the church begin in 1547, and it is mainly on
these that Mr. Atkinson has based his work.
Mr. Atkinson does not neglect the literary
associations of Aldgate. It will be remem-
bered that Chaucer had the dwelling-house
above the Gate of Aldgate. The lease is
one of the few authentic documents relating
to Chaucer's life that we possess, and Mr.
Atkinson quotes it in full. It is curiously
modem; and its matter-of-factness and
strictness seem incongruous to the father of
English poetry, here referred to throughout
as " the same Geoffrey " or " the aforesaid
Geoffrey."

The " Collector's Series " now includes
The Stamp Collector. This book has been
written by Mr. W. J. Hardy and Mr. E. D.
Bacon, in collaboration. In their intro-
duction the authors make the following
claim for the study of postage stamps :

" Philately has been elevated, step by step,
into a quasi-archa3ological science, with its own
societies, bibliography, and critical literature.
It would be useless to protend that in weight
and consequence it is entitied to take a very
high place ; yet we may claim for it that it has
manifold appeals to human sympathy, and

238

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 26, 189S.

lII

stands to some extent on the same ground as

coin-collecting in uniting amusement with

instruction. Its past, we know, is not a long

one ; what its future is to be we forbear to

prophesy."

The work is well provided with illustrations,

these being in photographic monochrome.

One detects the work of a qixiet but
enthusiastic student in Th^ Great French
Triumvirate. This title covers metrical
translations by Mr. Thomas Constable of
the " Athalie '' of Racine, the " Polyceute "
of Corneille, and the "Misanthrope" and
" TartufEe" of Moliere. In a pithy intro-
duction, Mr. Constable pleads for a more
general study of the French dramatists.
To the objection, "No one reads transla-
tions," he makes pleasant answer :

" I believe that if a translation be readable it
will have readers. There is most pleasure in
doing what we do easily. My boy read
Butcher and Lang's trauslation of the Odyssey
without discovering that it was anything but
au enchanting fairy tale. If Mr. Merry and
-33olic aorists are now making it plain to bim
that there is another side to it— grim, prosaic,
pieced out, ilogged in — is he thereby wholly a
a gainer ? "

New novels arc noticed, as usual, in our
Supplement.

THE BOOK MARKET.

THE BOOKLESS EAST-END.

Manv things cease at Aldgate Pump, and
nothing more decisively than the book-
shop. Yet the million and a half Londoners
who live east of that point must read. One
surmises that they read a great deal of
fiction ; where do they buy their books ?
True, Free Libraries are dotted along the
great routes, a mile or so apart ; but Free
Libraries aro not shops, and borrowing is
still less faahionable than buying. From
St. Botolph's, Aldgate, eastward to the end
of Commercial-street, there is no bookshop.
This busy stretch of thoroughfare is choked
with tramcars ; its roadway is a hay
market, and its most distinctive feature its
row of butchers' shops and slaughter-houses.
It is here that the East meets the City ; and
they meet in a welter of material things
which forms the strongest possible hint to
booksellers not to set up shop. Yet books
are more plentiful here than at any other
point between Aldgate and Stratford. They
lie on barrows. Alongside are other barrows
laden with old iron, or with cloth caps,
or with brushes and mirrors and trinkets.
You may hardly wedge yourself in front
of a barrow, itsefl wedged danger-
ously between drays and the kerb ; and
while you turn the leaves of some curious,
but not valuable, book your ears are out-
raged by vociferous butchers or distracted
by yells of warning in the roadway. Again,
a barrow is not a shop. To find an East
End bookshop which offered some faint
chance of seeing and buying a new book :
that was the quest. Eastward, past St.
Mary's Church, that with its tall slender

spire always seems to say, "Here beginneth
the East End," one walks on with vigilant
eye. There are bootmakers, and milliners,
and cheap restaurants, and music shops
where 'Arry's concertina is displayed, inno-
cuously new. There are mean little tobacco
and newspaper shops, and small shop-
factories, and public-houses. And every-
where, what is written on these in English is
repeated in Hebrew. The road is not
depressing. It is wide and busy, and
the multitude of small separate businesses
gives cheerfulness.

Ha ! over there is a second-hand bookshop.
"We are just in sight of the London Hospital;
and the Mile End-road becomes, suddenly,
the finest thoroughfare in London. Nowhere
else can its width, straightness, and activity
be matched. Only a second-hand book-
shop. It is indulging in a clearance sale,
and scores of novels are lying on outside
trays marked 2d. a volume. Here is Robert
Elsmere in the three-volume edition for 6d.,
complete. Not one copy, but several.
Here are Mr. Henry James's A London
Life, and Mr. Marion Crawford's Pietro
Ghisleri — once six shillings, now twopence.
Even this dreary display is imusual ; and
the bookseller evidently prefers a " whole-
sale and export " business. Indeed, his
presence here seems to require this explana-
tion. He is prosperous, but he is not racy
of the soil.

Fifty yards across the street, diagonally,
is a small book and paper shop. Penny
tales of "blood and thunder," penny editions
of The Pilot and Two Years before the Mast,
are all it offers, if we except a penny Letter
Writer, a copy of which, lying open in the
window, displays a model letter to be written
by a lady who desires to refuse the hand of
an African missionary ! As the Hospital
looms higher and nearer, one sees the
doubtful gleam of a bookshop on the north
side of the road, just opposite the Hospital
itself. Yes, it is a bookshop ; that is to say,
in a window filled with photograph frames,
draught boards, stamp albums, cards of
penholders and inkstands, there are fitful
concessions to literature. Nuttall's Standard
Dictionary is here in force ; and then there
is nothing to be mentioned save the usual
cheap, gaudy editions of The Lamplighter,
The Swiss Family Rohinson, Longfellow'' s
Poems, and Valentine Vox.

The Cambridge-road is reached, leading
up to Bethnal Green. Again the width of
the street and its tremendous sky give one
pause. Why look for books in one of the
few London thoroughfares in which one can
watch the clouds? Here is the Assembly
Hall, plastered with evangelical announce-
ments. The window of its Book Saloon is
filled with Bibles and Prayer-Books and
Pilgrim^s Progresses and the novels of Mr.
Joseph Hocking. The scarlet binding of
NuttalVs Dictionary gives what it can of
colour, and a copy of The Child, the Wise
Man, and the Devil gives what it can of
modernity. A little further on is a shop
calling itself the ]\Iile End Bazaar. It
appropriates a long, narrow glass case to
books, principally to Mrs. Henry Wood's
books and Queechy. If you want a copy of
Queechy in a hurry go to the Mile End-road.
Almost wherever paper flutters at a shop door

you may buy Queechy. We have now passed
Stepney Green and are in the immediate
dominions of the People's Palace. Another
semi-bookshop heralds it. Shelves of old
books are laid outside a window which is
filled in its lower parts with bronzes, clocks,
second-hand cutlery, and faded electro-plate
goods. Above these, books — but the inevit-
able books — assert themselves again. Then
the Palace, with its undoubted library (not a
lending library) ! One crosses the Regent's
Canal and enters Bow. Here are stately
houses. Broken-headed eagles and grimy
terra-cotta Hons grace the doors, and
india-rubber plants and ferns and little
lace - covered tables with fern pots
and ribbons bespeak internal comfort.
But there is not a single bookshop
between the People's Palace and Bow
Church. One wonders whether Miss Corelli
is a myth. From Bow Church onward to
the beginning of Stratford Causeway there
is no bookshop. But none is to be looked
for in this dreary artery of a dreary manu-
facturing district. Books might be written
here, but not sold. The wasted fields, with
their rubbish heaps and foul flashing pools,
the array of chimneys and uncouth technical
buildings, would be unendurable but for
the network of canals and the red sails of
barges. As the tram runs up to Stratford
Church the street widens and grows pleasant;
and one fancies oneself in a pleasant
market town. But there are no book-
shops. Only the statue of Mr. Glad-
stone looks wistfully along the great route
by which we have come. Perhaps he, too,
is wondering where the compulsorily edu-
cated buy their books, if they buy at all.
The mystery remains.

DRAMA.

The interest of Mr. Alexander's revival of
"Much Ado About Nothing" at the St,
James's Theatre lies in two side issues,
which do not, perhaps, receive the attention
they deserve. One is the extent to whicli
the actor's personality governs his im-
personations, apart altogether from his con-
ception of the part he is called upon to play ;
the other, of minor and purely episodical im-
portance, concerns the new f angled scheme
of municipal theatres, championed hy_ no
less a personage than Sir Henry Irving.
Admittedly, the performance has failed to
secure the support of critical opinion—
indeed, it is long since a first-class Shake-
spearean revival at a West End theatre haa
been so coldly received by the press, and
the reason is undoubtedly that Mr. Alex-
ander has not only cast himself for a part
to which he is unsuited, but has rendered
the same disservice to one or two of tlie
leading members of his company. It is a
pardonable fault in his own case, though it
incidentally illustrates the weak side of the
system of actor-managership. In his early
days Sir Henry Irving fell into the same
error by playing Romeo and Claude Mel-
notte, neither of which characters, needless
to say, has remained in his repertory.

BB. 26, 1898.]

Tttfe; ACADEMY.

239

IE truth is, that the actor is very apt
e blinded, and the unreflecting critic
ed away, by current theories with regard
" conception." Whenever one actor
W8 another in a g^ven part — we have
an example of this within the past
f. at the Criterion, where Mr. Henry
ille has been temporarily replacing Mr.
idham in " The Liars " — we are told
I he " conceives " or that he " reads " the
I differently from his predecessor. This
itallacy. The actor plays the part, not
!3 would, but as he must— that is to say,
'is personality dictates. That it is his
pess to disguise his personality as far as
jm, or rather to sink it in the character
13 assuming, is very true ; but this he
|lo only within verj' narrow limits, as we

isee at a glance if we try to picture Sir
ry Irving playing the volatile lovers
[larised by Mr. Wyndham, or Mr.
jidham assuming the heavy tragic
iiier of Macbeth. This principle, which
jie onlooker appears so plain and in-
Itable, actors are, nevertheless, curiously
la to misapprehend. It is on record
j Listen, the famous low comedian,
|ved himself cut out for tragedy, and
I he did on one occasion actually play
lillo. Many other examples of a less
iing kind could be cited. At all such
Bries the student of the theatrical annals
i >. And yet here is Mr. Alexander
I n<r Benedick !

I, could not for a moment be contended

ilMr. Alexander's conception of Benedick

1 us sound as that of his critics. Very

is. Conception of character prob-

1; varies little as between one actor and

o er ; it is the means of execution which

the actor's voice, manner, and

!!■ all contributing to the effect pro-

i- . Benedick is the staid soldier and

II if the world, of a merry but somewhat

Hill humour, the professed enemy of

irage, and prone to rail at love and

itjiient. This type one readily pictures in

3 lind ; all the more so if the imagination

^jisted by recollections of Sir Henry

'• '''! Benedick, which was the most

realisation of the part that the

bml generation has seen. Many years

vj elapsed since " Much Ado About

rting " was performed at the Lyceum,

,t i still see the jocose dubiety and droll

Uies of Benedick musing upon his

- with Beatrice as if they were of

ly. To Sir Henry Irving the part

■very sense congenial, and for this

I )n he has stamped it with his own

iity — a circumstance which naturally

lisigainst any different rendering of it,

iw er meritorious. As for Mr. Alexander,

< \ the beau ideal of the ardent wooer,

e [ashing cavalier, ever ready to indite

simet to his mistress's eyebrow, or

•rry her off under the nose of an

ipicticable parent or a tetchy guardian;

"^!o hora Jeune premier. To hear such

m railing against love, in the vibrat-

(j . i^ents of passion, is absurd. Moreover,

r. jJexander, with his many gifts, lacks

unir ; it is not a quality that belongs to

Ofme premier. But hiunour, sly humour,

ot jie very essence of Benedick's character.

The famous soliloquy in which he recognises
that he is in truth falling in love with Beatrice
Mr. Alexander delivers with the utmost
seriousness ; so that the impression conveyed
is that of a love-sick school-boy instead of
the shrewd genial man of the world falling
a prey to feminine wiles.

All this, we feel, is the fault neither of
Mr. Alexander's head nor of his heart ; it is
that of his personality, that important factor
which both the actor and the critic are so
apt to ignore. Vivacity does not fail him.
In his duel of wits with Beatrice, this latest
Benedick is lively enough ; but it is the
liveliness of the emancipated colleg^ian, not
that of the dignified soldier and gentleman
who humours his charming companion. Of
course Mr. Alexander is not invariably out
of the picture ; he is too versatile an actor
for that. The tragic crisis in poor Hero's
affairs brings Benedick down to the serious
plane, and there Mr. Alexander is himself ;
he comes into touch with the character. In
fact, at this point, and until he breaks into
his romps again, his impersonation is all that
could be desired. He is a brave soldier and
a gentleman.

The same natural disability that hampers
Mr. Alexander in the character of Benedick
tells with equal force against the Beatrice
of Julia Neilson, who likewise has to battle
against our recollections of Miss EUen
Terry. This is unfortunate. Bxit for the
Lyceum performance both Mr. Alexander
and Miss Julia Neilson might have passed
muster. Impressions, however, are not to be
reasoned with, and unquestionably Beatrice
is stamped with Miss Ellen Terry's per-
sonality as effectually as Benedick is with
Sir Henry Irving's. Miss Julia Neilson is
essentially a serious actress who is at her
best in domestic drama. Frivolity sits
heavily upon her ; she is not a romp
or a tease. As the old Scotch editor
joked " wi' deeficulty," so Miss Julia
Neilson coquets with difficulty. It is
not her fault, but that of a manage-
ment which, ignoring the prime importance
of personality, condemns her to an uncon-
genial role. It is in her serious moments
that this Beatrice is most satisfactory. The
same mistake, curiously enough, has been
made with Miss Fay Davis, who is cast for
the part of Hero. With her demure look,
her roguish eye, and her sedate manner,
this young actress, in her own walk, plays
havoc with hearts. As Hero, the em-
bodiment of outraged virtue, she is con-
demned to a statuesque coldness which
nullifies all her special gifts. Most of the
minor parts are adequately sustained. The
Don Pedro of Mr. F. Terry is indeed ex-
cellent, and the Claudio of Mr. Eobert
Loraine — a part which Mr. Alexander could
have played to the Ufe — if somewhat youth-
ful, not to say boyish, is fuU of ardour;
while such veterans as Mr. W. H. Vernon
and Mr. J. D. Beveridge are naturally at
home in the parts of Leonato and Antonio.
Another feature of the performance that
one may unreservedly admire is the mount-
ing, which is sumptuous and lavish in the
extreme. The Lyceum itself furnished no
more beautiful or more ornate a setting

to Hie play than the St. James's has to show.
In' particular, the church scene, with its
tapers, its acolytes, its procession of chant-
ing priests, its altar, its artistic grouping of
cavaliers and noble ladies, its incense-laden
atmosphere, dwells in the memory.

To the question of the municipal theatre —
which has recently been agitated, among
other places, in Manchester — such a per-
formance as that we have been discussing
is not as foreign as it might at first sight
appear. Supposing the rate-supported play
to be above reproach — an old masterpiece of
some kind, or, say, this very comedy of
"Much Ado About Nothing — who is to
guarantee the fitness of the actor? This
question of the rate-supported theatre is
always discussed by actors with a com-
placency that excludes their own merits or
demerite from consideration. Undeniably
such a revival as that of the St. James's
would be accounted excellent business for a
municipal theatre ; an actor of Mr. Alex-
ander's calibre who proposed to undertake it
could hardly be denied. Nevertheless, the
monetary check being removed, what
restraint would be placed upon a poor or
inadequate performance ? The analogy of
the subventioned Comedie Fran^aise does
not apply. This famous body is a close
corporation of actors whose proceedings are
subject to an autocratic ministerial veto ;
and its like could not possibly be estab-
lished in these days of free institutions.
Only two types of the municipal theatre
are conceivable. The one would be nm
by faddists but paid for by the public, and
would open the door to abuses of different
kinds ; the other would be subject to popu-
lar control, the very principle against which
the supporters of unpopular art inveigh.

J. F. N.

CORRESPONDENCE.

AN APOLOGY FOR "JULIUS
C^SAE."

SiK, — Mr. Bernard Shaw is reported to
have recently declared that it is not the
function of the critic to do justice to a work
of art, but rather, by giving pain to the
individusJ, to amuse the many. He appears
to have found an apt disciple in Mr. St.
John Hankin, whose letter was printed in
your issue of the 5th inst. There is a
certain class of person whose mission in life
it is to write rude words on statues; but
while Mr. Bernard Shaw is impelled to this
pastime from sheer ebullience of humour,
Mr. St. John Hankin would seem to be
inspired to it by fanaticism.

The letter in question bears on the face of
it the semblance of being written in con-
siderable excitement, which I prefer to think
was provoked by righteous wrath rather
than by a personal animus, for Mr. St.
John Hankin's name is unknown to me.
Mr. Hankin prescribes the production of
" Julius Ctesar " at Her Majesty's Theatre
as "a grievous insult to Shakespeare."
Among other iniquities he charges the
manager with having for selfish purposes

240

THE ACADEMY.

[Fkb. 26, 1898.

perverted the meaning of Shakespeare's
play; furthermore, he asserts that the
representative of Mark Antony wears a dis-
tinctive costume, and that he always stands
in the middle of the stage! Mr. St.
John Hankin further claims that Shake-
speare should only be played by
amateur* ; that Antony is a relatively
minor character in the play; that in
writing the tragedy of "Julius CsBsar "
Shaiespeare did not intend the audience to
be interested in the fate of Caesar, but in
that of Brutus alone ; that every attempt in
this production is made to spoil the poetry
of the play, and to distract the attention of
the audience from the verse to the actor.

The production of "Julius Cresar" at Her
Majesty's Theatre has met with such gener-
ous treatment at the hands of the Press, and
of your critic individually, that I feel it
would be ungracious to offer more than an
apology to Mr. Hankin in extenuation of
my motives in presenting the play. As to
Mr. St. John Hankin's charges, notably that
of ungenerosity towards my brother actors,
and of my contemptuous treatment of
Shakespeare, I can omy say that if I have
failed to worthily present this great play, it
was my modest endeavour to pay a tribute
to Shakespeare reverently and with as
great appreciation of his poetry as an
actor-manager may be permitted to con-
jure up ; that my arrangement of the text
has been approved by the Press, and by
Shakespearian students. I wiU admit in
all himiUity that in the revival of "Julius
Cassar " I have been animated by the pos-
sibly base desire to produce it in such a way
as to command the support of the public at
large.

There remain always learned amateur
societies who will present Shakespeare in
such a way as to commend him to the few,
while boring the many. It is, I take it, the
business of the manager to present Shake-
speare in such a way as to commend him to
the many, even at the risk of agitating the
few. — ^I remain, sir, your obedient servant,
Hekbert Beerbohm Tbee.

Her Majesty's Theatre : Feb. 24.

In it you credit me as Dr. Morley Roberts
instead of Dr. Lloyd Eoberts. I should be
very pleased if you would kindly make
mention of this in your next issue. — Believe
me, very tndy yours, Lloyd Bobebts.
Manchester: Feb. 19.

PATHOS.

Sir,— In "A Blot in the 'Scutcheon "
Browning puts into the mouth of Mildred
Tresham the pathetic lines I sent to the
Pall Mall Gazette in three forms. In act i.
she says :

" I was so young, I loved him so, I had
No mother, God forgot me, and I fell."

In act ii. she says :

" I— I was 80 young!
Beside, I loved him, Thorold — and I had
No mother ; God forgot me ; so I fell."

Again in the same act she repeats :

" I was 80 young —
I had no mother, and I loved him so ! "

As Mr. Speight writes of " certain lines
misquoted," it is as well that such of your
readers as are not Browning students should
be aware of these various renderings of the
same pathetic thought. — Faithfully yours,

London: Feb. 21. Edward Bebdoe.

WAS SHAKESPEARE AN IRISHMAN ?

Sir, — In your issue of December 25 Mr.
Q«orge Newcomen, from " internal evi-
dence " in " Hamlet," suggests that Shake-
speare was really Patrick O'Toole, of Ennis.
He has not reaUsed apparently the import-
ant corroboration of his theory generously
provided by the dramatist in act iii., scene
3— "Now might I do it Pat." This is
usually regarded as a soliloquy. But it is
now evident that at the supreme moment
Hamlet's thoughts have addressed them-
selves to his father (a beautiful touch this
in its fidelity to human nature !), acted, as
we know, by Shakespeare — i.e., Patrick
O'Toole himself. Will Sir H. Irving kindly
note ? — Yours faithfully, H. L. Allen.

Madras, S. India : Feb. 2.

A PASSAGE BY R.L.S.

Sir, — Is not your French correspondent
mistaken in her reading of the passage
which she quotes, or rather paraphrases,
from Stevenson's essay on Fontainebleau in
her letter in your last number? "The
Anglo-Saxon is essentially dishonest ; the
French have no understanding of fair play."
Your correspondent takes this as an ex-
pression of Stevenson's own opinion of the
characteristics of the two nations. But in
the preceding sentence Stevenson has been
lamenting that when the two nations look
upon each other they have an eye to nothing
but defects ; and in the passage in question
he goes on, as I take it, to put in indirect
form what the nations may be supposed to
think of each other. " In the eyes of the
Frenchman," he seems to say, " the Anglo-
Saxon is essentially dishonest ; in the eyes
of Jthe Englishman the Frenchman is devoid
by nature of the principle that we call ' fair
play.'"

I cannot think that Stevenson meant to
say that he himself looked upon the Anglo-
Saxon as essentially dishonest, or upon the
French as by nature devoid of fair play.
If I am right it is curious that in support of
his assertions as to the French character
your correspondent should, by a misreading,
cite a portion of a passage which, correctly
read, deprecates the making of any such
assertions. — I am, &c.,

E. J. CUNLIFF.

Kelvinside, Glasgow :
Feb. 21.

callg him. He is sick of that epithet, not unlike
in this to the Athenian citizen who got tired of
the surname " Just " by which Aristides was
known. There is no doubt that such high-
flown appendages to people's names are not
always justified, as, for instance, in Axetino'g
case, miscalled "H Divino " ; but who would
grudge this title to the incomparable Ario8to?
That of " Olympian " admirably beooma
Goethe, who was as fickle as Jove in )as
amours until caught in the meshes of Christina
Vulpius, whom he married, and at whose
death-bed he was sobbing like a child, im-
ploring her not to leave >iiTn in dreary loneli-
ness. He had a heart, after all, the man who
broke Frederica's ; but that heart oidy spoke
thus loudly when its owner was alrendy in the
fifties. As a young man, Goethe shunned all
durable attachments, and felt ill at ease with
himself and the world until his foot had touched
the soil of Italy. It is there that his genius
revealed itself to him, and when he returned
home from that journey he wtis a diSetent
being altogether. Who that has read can ever
forget his delightful " Romische Elegien"?
That Goethe stands in the first rank as a poet
is a fact imiversaUy admitted, but he hinwell
was never carried away by self-conceit. He
had the true modesty of one who is con-
scious of vast powers. One day Ludwif
Tieck, the joint translator with A. W. Schleg^
of Shakespeare's plays, gave him to un&-
stand that he considered himself his equal in
verso-making. "You!" exclaimed Goethe, in
astonishment; "why, the distance which sens-
rates you from me is as great as the mj-
tance which separates me from Shakespeare."
The English dramatist and Moh^re were hit
two favourite authors. At the age of eighty,
with that serenity of spirit and cleameM of
mind which were his to the last, Goethe hud
certainly something of the Olympian in him,
and he was reverenced by all as the living
embodiment of the Fatherland. Freocb
literature owes him much, but this seems tc
be forgotten. Sainte-Beuve wrote exhaustivdj
about him, and with his usual tact he combab
the unjust criticisms by which his memory had
been assailed in certain quarters. Here is «
passage out of his Essay : " On dit que (}oeth(
aimait peu sa mere ; on I'a taxe a ce nqfll
d'egoisme et de secheresse. Je crois qu'id oi
a exagere. Avant de refuser une qtuMi t
Goethe, il faut y regarder a deux foi», car If
premier aspect chez lui est d'lme certaini
froideur, mais cette froideur recouvre souven-
la qualite premiere subsistante. Une mere w
continue pas d'aimer et de reverer a ce point m
fils jusqu'a la demiere heure, quand U a enver
elle un tort grave. La mere de Goethe n'ei
trouvait aucun a son fils, et il ne nous appartkn
pas d'etre plus severe qu'elle." The italics ar
mine. Perhaps your Paris correspondent wil
think less badly of Goethe after reading th
whole essay. It is to be found in the secom
volume of tiie Caitseries du Lundi.

A CORRECTION.

Sir, — I thank you very much for your

kind and appreciative notice of my edition

of the " Religio Medici " and other essays of

Sir Thomas Browne in to-day's Academy.

A WOED ABOUT GOETHE.

Snt, — Yoiu: Paris correspondent, in the letter
which appeared in your issue of February 5, is
rather severe upon Goethe, " the Olympian of
Weimar," as your correspondent disdainfully

Feb. 8.

Thomas Delta.

BOOK REVIEWS REVIEWED.

" The Tragedy of ^^^^ ^^"^ ""^ *^^ '"^^f *!??

the Korosko." of a tourist party on the JVu

By A. conan Doyle, jg taken very seriously by th

Speaker's critic. We read:

"It is dangerous to describe any work i
fiction in these days of a prolific press 88
masterpiece, yet there cannot be any QO_w
that the word is strictly apphcable to Jt
Conan Doyle's Tragedy of the Korosko. Tc
story is one of action and adventure, whic

EB. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

241

.8 the reader breathless as he follows the
ones of the little band of tourists on the
whom an unMnd fate has placed in the
lis of the fierce Dervishes of the Soudan.
! it is not the thrilling excitement of the
Rents told that gives the book its special
Im. That which raises it to the height of
jisterpiece is the extraordinary self-control
I sustained dignity of the narrator. From
I to last the story is as simple and impressive
1 narrative by Defoe. There is not a super-
is word in it, but each word tells. . . .
■n we lay the book aside we know them
)~Mr. Stuart (the Nonconformist minister
li Birmingham), Colonel Cochrane, the young
nchman Fardet, and, above all, Stevens the
jrly solicitor, and Sadie the fair American
(who wins his heart. We feel as though we
i shared with them the dangers of those
tble days of suffering and suspense when
I were at the mercy of the soldiers of the
tlifa ; and, just as association in times of
hme peril brings real men and women most
jly together, so we feel as though this
iious narrative had made us the intimate
lids of the men and women to whom it
mduces us."

literature examines carefully, and with.

!-oval, the local and historical justifica-
i for the story. This critic says :
rhe republication of the . . . narrative
hi place when the nation is looking forward
e renewal of an onward march which, we

I ope and believe, will not be stayed until
t ( ountrymen of Gordon are once more
mis of Khartum. No more raids upon
liish and American travellers peacefully
^)ring the tombs and temples of Upper
B)t will ever again be possible ; and it may

I I deed that, if we do our work thoroughly,
future readers of the Tragedy of the Korosko
ilbe unable ere many years are past to
alie the strong foundation of verisimilitude
I'hich Mr. Doyle's story is built. Strong
idgh, however, that foundation was at the

when this story was in all probability
ived. Mr. Doyle has evidently made
use of his own experiences as a Nile
and his dramatis persona have been
ted from models which might have been
on every ' stem- wheeler ' that has
hed its way up the river from Shellal for
a,\r years past. The little sun - dried,
jery Anglo-Indian colonel, Cochrane by
! ; the amiable, serious, culture-hunting
Jijg American graduate, Headingley, with
alwo countrywomen, young and elderly —
• '-ink, frivolous, unconventional Sadie
and her quaint, dry. Puritanical, but
j^ -tiearted aunt from New England ; the
ffljiid young British diplomat, Mr. Cecil
rcTi; the stout and slightly unctuous, but
BLinely devout Nonconformist minister, the
e^^ John Stuart ; the iron-grey, sturdy Irish-
\a^ Belmont, famous as a long-distance rifle-
»oi the prim, formal, untraveUed solicitor,
[rjTames Stephens ; and the Voltairian and
npphobe, but not unchivalrous. Frenchman,
[. ardet — one and all belong to types sufii-
ei.y familiar and more than sufficiently well
raja to make the reader feel that any of them
det have been fellow-travellers of Ms own."

1 a long and appreciative review of Mr.
►oje's story, the Daily Telegraph praises
[riDoyle's local colour, and the discussions
e jitroduces on our Egyptian policy and
th; topics of interest. The Manchester
dian says :

|he story, though it is, perhaps, a slight
QBiuarks nn advance in Mr. Doyle's powers.
heiilot is better constructed than in some of
is revious works, and the characterisation ia

admirable. And, owing to reasons that have
been already indicated, the adventures of the
party, thou|;h they are of an unusual and really
tragic description, never lose the air of proba-
bility, which is so essential to a weU-constructed
tale."

..mv TT- ^ » ^h:^ Saturday Review iustly

" The Vintage." i .t_ ^ ,, ,, ■• ■'„

By E. F. Benson, remarks that " the case of
Mr. E. F. Benson is a
curious one." Space does not permit us to
follow this critic through his racy sketch of
the author of Dodo, The Rubicon, The Judg-
ment Books, The Bale, B.A., and — now — The
Vintage. What interests the critic is the
fact that

" the author of Dodo, whom indolent reviewers
rise up early to jeer at, has written a perfectly
serious study in fiction; and we think it no
more than justice to say that the success of it
is beyond question."

Concluding a favourable review, this re-
viewer says :

" "We are struck, in laying down The Vintage,
with the close observation of pastoral life in
Greece to which Mr. Benson has evidently
devoted himself. The incidents in the various
country-side occupations are described with
great charm and by a firm hand. Especially
beautiful are the many nocturnal scenes in the
Bay of Nauplia, which delight us whenever
they recur. We would warmly encourage Mr.
Benson to pursue a kind of writing for which
he shows an aptitude of an unusual kind, for
this new romance is much more in the manner
of Bjomson or of Verga than like any English
specimens that we happen to recollect."

The Standard is far more critical. He
thinks Mr. Benson's Greeks are capital
fellows, and he finds the story exciting.
But

" the picture in The Vintage seems to lack
balance. Party -per 'pale, argent, and sable
makes good heraldry, but lopsided ethics.
When half through the book, Mr. Benson seems
to have become aware of this ; thenceforward
the reader may ' sup full horrors ' which are
mostly of Greek making. So much blood — and
so much innocent blood — ^is shed, that by the
end of it all he is in this very odd position, that
his sympathies already estranged by over-stated
virtues, are clean withdrawn before vices too
candidly set down. It may, of course, be
necessary to write history in this fashion, but
not novels. Novelists are not called on to
catalogue but to entertain, a fact which our
author too frequently forgets. Much of the
war business is detailed in a manner that would
do well enough for a history book, but in a
story-book merely suggests skipping to the
ordinary reader."

The Manchester Gua/rdian takes the same
line:

" The personal romance that underlies the
history suffers from its historical setting and
from the extraordinary minuteness with which
the author has set himself to describe various
aspects of Greek life and various types of Greek
character. The story in consequence drags, and
the persons possess too little humanity and are
too distinctively Greek to lay hold on our
affections. An exception should, perhaps, be
made in the case of 'little Mitsos,' but even
he has been trained into a machine-like
obedience and impossible devotion that is either
above or below humanity. What lover would
consent to set fire to a ship in which his lady
was believed to be sailing ? "

The Da^ Telegraph is content to describe
the story in an approving vein :

"The book stands in striking contrast to Mr,
Benson's earlier studies in metropolitan life, for
here we have in almost too conscientious detail
such scenes as an artist paints when he wanders
through the modem aspects of Attica and the
Peloponnese. The boy Mitsos is the incarna-
tion of the Hellenic spirit, and his career serves
to typify the battle in which his country is
engaged. Under the advice and influence of
his uncle, Nicholas Vidalis, he leaves his home
at Nauplia, journeys to Tripoli and Sparta, and
through most of the Morea, delivering every-
where the message to the Faithful to ' grind
black com for the Turks,' and to be ready for
the lighting of the beacon fires, the given signal
for the uprising. A long and picturesque
history of the insurrection follows, full of vivid
details, and everywhere adorned with bright
patches of local colour and incidents."

"The Tree of This story has provoked and
Lift " By pleased critics in about equal
'^^ ' degrees. The Athenxum says
the story, \mfortunately,

"falls, or seems to us to fall, into the genre
ennuyeux. Why it should do so is one of those
things that cannot be exactly explained even
by experts or specialists. 'The story is not
frankly and straightforwardly tiresome; on
the contrary, and at first especially, it appears
inclined to develop, humanly and artistically,
on interesting lines. The author has acquired
a hghtness of touch and a knack of presenta-
tion that promise and do occasionally serve
well. But the whole thing wears a deeply
premeditated air. The general aspect and trend
is at once superficial yet studied. If such a
thing can be as a touch that seems light and is
in reahty laboured, we have it here. No real
originality or strength of conception leavens
the carefully chosen material."

Literature says :

" So far as the handling of the characters
and the plot is concerned. Miss Netta Syrett
has written an interesting and well-writton
story ; but we would ask her two questions : If,
as one of her characters says, we are ' sickened
of the eternal sex question,' why does she show
so little sympathy with us as to devote herself
in a novel of 387 pages to a discussion of it ;
and, if it has to be discussed, w;hy does she
assume that the solution of it which she favours
is ' in advance of the age ' ? We do not ex-
aggerate when we say that the sex question is
discussed throughout, for it is clearly in the
writer's mind from first to last."

But the first critic allows that the author,
in the earlier scenes, shows

" a real divination or recollection of childhood.
. . . The forlorn groping after beauty and
happiness, the hills of difiiculty that on the
path of educational endeavour loom mountain
high, the half-comprehended sense of spiritual
isolation, the lack of sympathy and fellowship,
are all there."

And the second critic concludes :

" It is a pleasanter task to congratulate the
writer on the undoubted power of graphic and
humorous description she shows ... on flie many
touches of close observation, such as ' the sun-
shine filtering through a lacework of leaves
flecked the bracken with burnished silver' —
most novelists would have said, incorrectly,
' burnished gold ' ; and on the skill and pathos
with which she develops the character of
I Christine."

242

THE ACADEMY.

[Fkb. 26, (KMl

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, Februaiy 24.
THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

MEDITATIOIfS ON THE SACKED PASSION OF

Our Lord. By Cardinal Wiseman. Burns
& Oates. 4s.

The Vitality of Christian Dogmas, and
THEIR Power of Evolution. By A.
Sabatier, D.D. Translated by Mrs. E.
Christen. A. & C. Black.

Reason in Revelation; or, the Intellec-
tual Aspects of Ciibistianity. By
Emma Marie CaOlard. James Nisbet &
Co. 2s.

A Book of Psalms. Rendered into English
by the late Arthur Trevor Jebb, M.A.
George Allen. .38. 6d. net.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

Lines from my Log-Books. By Admiral the
Rt. Hon. Sir John C. Dalrymple Hay, Bt.
David Douglas.

Drake and the Tudor Navy. By Julian S.
Corbett. 2 vols. Longmans, Green &
Co. 36s.

Random Recollections. By Robert Ganthony.
Henry J. Drane. Cs.

The Story of South Africa. By "W. Basil
Worsfold. Horace Marshall & Son.

A Student's Manual of English Constitu-
tional History. By Dudley Jidius
Medley, M.A. Second edition. B. H.
Blackwell (Oxford).

The Smithsonian Institution, 1846-1896:
The History of its First Half Century.
Edited by George Brown Goode. City of
Washington.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRES.

Millais and his Works. By M. H. Spiel-
mann. Wm. Blackwood & Sons.

The Later Renaissance. By David Hannay.
Wm. Blackwood & Sons. os.

Adventures in Legend: being the Last
Historic Legends or the Western
Highlands. By the Marquis of Lome, K.T.
A. Constable & Co. 6s.

The Spectator. Vol. V. Edited by G.
Gregory Smith. J. M. Dent & Co.

Thk Gekat French Triumvirate: the
Athalie of Racine, the Polyceute of

CORNEILLE, the MISANTHROPE AND

Tahtuffe OF MOLIKRE. Rendered into
English Verse by Thomas Constable.
Downey & Co. 5s.

GoDEFRoi and Yolande : A Medi^.val Play
IN One Act. By Laurence Irving. John
Lane. 3s. fid.

Chapters on the Wavekley Novels.
Anonymous. W. H. Allen & Co.

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

Early Fortifications in Scotland : Motes,
Camps, and Forts. By David Christison,
M.D. Wm. Blackwood & Sons.

Hind Head ; oe, the English Switzerland
AND ITS Literary and Historical As-
S0CLATI0N8. By Thomas Wright. Simpkin,
Marshall. 68.

St. Botolph, Aldgate: the Story of a
City Parish. By A. G. B. Atkinson,
M.A. Gh-ant Richards.

NEW EDITIONS OP FICTION.

Diana of the Crossways. By Gteorge Mere-
dith. Archibald Constable & Co. 6s.

EDUCATIONAL.

University Tutorial Series : — Ovid : Meta-
morphoses. Book XrV. Edited by A. H.
Allcroft, M.A., and B. J. Hayes, M.A.
W. B. CUve. Is. 6d.

The Study of Children and their School
Training. By Francis Warner, M.D.
Macmillan & Co. 48. 6d.

Schiller's Wilhelm Tell. With Notes by
W. H. Carruth, Ph.D. Macmillan & Co.
3s. 6d.

University Tutorial Series : General Ele-
mentary Science. Edited by William
Briggs, M.A. W. B. Clive. 3s. 6d.

A Geography of North America, including
THE West Indies. By Lionel W. Lyde.
A. & C. Black.

Historical Latin Readers : the Conquest
OF Italy and the Struggle with Car-
thage, 753 to 200 B.C. By E. G. Wilkin-
son, M.A. A. & C. Black.

Norwegian Grammar and Reader. By
Julius E. Olson. Scott, Foresman & Co.

MISCELLANEOUS.

How to Publish a Book or Article, and
How TO Produce a Play: Advice to
Young Authors. By Leopold Wagner.
George H«dway.

Neo-Malthusianism : an Enquiry into that
System with Regard to its Economy
AND Morality. By B. Ussher. Gibbings
& Co. 6s.

A Book of Country Clouds and Sunshine.
By Clifton Johnson. Eegan Paul. 5s.

The New England Country. By Clifton
Johnson. Kegan Paul. "s. 6d.

The Mdtee's Arithmetic and Mensuration ;
WITH Answers. By Henry Davies. Chap-
man & Hall.

The Renaissance in Italian Art : a Hand-
book FOR Students and Travellers.
By Selwyn Brinton, B.A. Simpkin, Mar-
shall.

The Stamp-Collector. By W. J. Hardy and
E. D. Bacon. George Redway. Ts. 6d.

The following were crowded out of our last
week's issue :

Pike and Perch. By Alfred Jardine. Law-
rence & BuUen, Ltd.

The Handbook to British Military Sta-
tions Abroad. Compiled by L. C. R.
Duncombe-Jewell. Sampson Low.

Lessons with Plants. By L. H. Bailey.
The Macmillan Co. 7s. 6d.

Studies and Notes of Philology and
Literature. Vol. V. Ginn & Co. 68. 6d.

The Eveey-Day Book of Natural History :
Animals and Plants. By James CundaU.
Revised by Edward Step. New edition.
Jarrold & Sons.

Principles of English Grammar for the
Use of Schools. By G. R. Carfienter.
Macmillan & Co.

The Plainsong of the Mass, Adapted from
THE Sarum Gradual. Part. I. : The
Ordinaey. Third edition. Hymn Melodies
FEOM THE Sarum Seevioe-Books. Printed
for the Plainsong and Mediaeval Music
Society.

The Criminology Series : Political Oeime.
By Louis Praol. T. Fisher Unwin. 16s.

Modern Problems and Chkisiian Kiui.
By W. J. Hocking. Wells, Gardn
Darton & Co. 3s. 6d.

Debatable Claims: Essays on Secokda:
Education. By John Charles Tarv.
Archibald Constable & Co, 68.

The Rightly Produced Voice. By E. Dav
son Palmer. Joseph Williams.

The Records of the Buegery of Shepfiel
Commonly called the Town Trust.
John Daniel Leader. Elliot Stock.

The Year's Music, 1898. Edited by A. C.
Carter. J. S. Virtue & Co. 2s. Gd.

The Saving of Ireland : Industrial Fis>
CLAL, Political. By Sir George Bad(
Powell. Wm. Blackwood & Sons. 79.

(^N Laboratory Arts. By Richard Threlf

M.A. Macmillan & Co. 6s.
Prisoners on Oath : Present and Futc

By Sir Herbert Stephen, Bart. TS

Heinemann. Is.
The Municipal Yeae-Book: 1898. Edil

by Robert Donald. Edward Lloyd. T

MoDKEN Problems and Christian Era:.
By W. J. Hocking. WeUs, Gardi ,
Darton & Co.

NOTES ON NEW EDITIONS.

We have received the second edition of I .
Dudley Julius Medley's Students' Manl
nf English Constitutional History. It appe )
four years after the first edition. It
author has not changed the general plai (
his book ; but he has freely used m \ i
edition works which have been publisll
since the first edition appeared. ].
Medley says, for instance, that his indebt •
ness to Prof. Maitland will be apparc
on almost every page :

" Prof. Maitland's previous work had ! i
all future historians of our early Const; •
tion under a deep obligation ; but even ,
students were scarcely prepared for the lai l
suggestiveness of The History of English 1 1
and of Domesday Book and Beyond. One of s
chief aims of my compilation was to place wi -
in the reach of the young student the resulfc f
the most recent work. Consequently, wis
sections have been re-written, and the vis
expressed on many points have been largf
modified."

The book has not been greatly extended i
length ; but it now runs to over 644 page

Messrs. Constable's series of Histor I
Novels is continued by Westward Ho ! wb »
has been fitly chosen to represent the re i
of Queen Elizabeth. The last novel, it ■ 1
be remembered, was Macfarlane's Camyf
Refnge, representing the Conqueror's rei i.
Mr. Laurence Gonime, the editor, sayB tt
he chose Westward Ho ! in preferencf 0
Keniliporth, because Kenilworth "tells U'l
court life and not national life. Anco
the superiority of Kingsley's subject *
held to outweigh the superiority of Sw »
art."

To the Temple edition of the Wave 7
Novels is added Old Mortality, in "
volumes. The frontispiece is a reproduc n
of a drawing, by Mr. Herbert Kailton »
the College Wynd, Edinburgh, in one h( «
of which Scott was bom. Tradition I'J
that Goldsmith, Boswell, and Bums lodd
in the same W3riid.

^B. 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

243

JOHN LANE^S LIST.

NOW READY.

UB LETTERS to FRANCE. By Emile Zola. With an

Introduction by L. P. AUSTIN. Co!m!rrs:-I. To the Youth of France— n To
France— III. To M. Felix Faure, the President— IT. To the Minister of War. Foap
8vo, with Portrait, Is. net.

•B CHILD WHO WILL NEVER GROW OLD. By

I K. DOUSLAS KING, Anther of "Father Hilarion," "The Scripture Reader of St.
Mark's," Ac. Crown 8vo, 5s,

IE SPANISH WINE: a Novel. By Frank Mathew,

Author of " Tlie Wood of the Brambles," &o. Crown 8vo, 3a. 6d.

LilllAN from the NORTH : a Novel.

I Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.

By E. A Bennett.

[DEFBOI and YOLANDE : a Play. By Laurence Irving.

Small 4to, 3s. M. net.

; MMER MOTHS : a Play in Fonr Acts.

UEINKMANX. Small 4to, 3s. 6d. net.

By William

I RKADY MARCH 2nd.

(CTRNALISM for WOMEN: a Practical Gnide.

K. A. BKNNETT, Editor of Woman. Sijuare 18mo, 2s. 6d. net.

BPET COURTSHIP: a Novel.

Crown 9to, Ss. M.

By Thomas Cobh.

FOURTH EDITION NOW READY,

'lEMS. With which is incorporated "CHRIST in HADES."

I By STEPHEN PHILLIPS. Crown 8vo, J,s. Od. not.

! THE BOOK OF THE YEAR 1897.

'I Mr. Stephen Phillips has been awarded by the
Proprietor of "The Academy" a premium of
One Hundred Guineas, in accordance with his
previously proclaimed intention of making that
gift to the writer of the book which should be
adjudged worthy to be "crowned" as the most
important contribution to the literature of 1897.

^o snch remarkable book of verso as this has appeared for several years. Mr. Phillips
r challenges comparisoD. in style and subject, with the work of fjreat masters ; the

Srs whom he makes yoa think of range up to Milton and do not fall below Landor. He
pts nothing small, and his poetry brings with ib that eensation of novelty and that
iflion of a strongly marked personality which stamps a genuine poet. His blank verse

eirely his own, everywhere dignified, sonoroas, and masical. No man in our genera-
3rmd few in any generation, have written better than this." — Literature.

jlis style in verse is admirable, and worthy of a dignified and lofty thGraa.,**— Standard.

The man who, with a few graphic touches, can call up for us images like these, in
cjlecisive and masterly fashion, is not one to be rated with the common herd, but rather

amn from whom we have the right to expect hereafter some of the great things which
ilhdure."— Mr. W. L, Couetney in Daily Teler/raph.

'Ye may pay Mr. Phillips the distinguished compUment of saying that his blank verse

fJT than hift work in rhyme Almost the whole of this book is concerned with life and

Aj largely and liberally contemplated ; it ia precisely that kind of contemplation which

Ticent poetry lacks We praise Mr. Phillips for many excellences, but chiefly for the

eiair and ardour of his poetry, its persistent loftiness.'*— I>a (7// Chronicle.

* Marpessa * has an almost Shakespearian tenderness and beauty,"— G^ofitf.

By Eugene Field.

With 200 Illustrations by

11.LAB7 LAND : Songs of Childhood.

;R<litod, with Introduction, by KENNETH GRAHAMB,

^uharles Robinson. Uncut, or gilt edges, crown 8vo, 6s.
M book of exceeding sweetness and beauty. No more original and no sweeter singer
cldhood ever breathed. Mr. Robinson's drawings are more exquisite, if possible, in
etjion, and as abounding as ever in humour and phantasy. Any child who gets this
ol ow will love it aa long as ho lives."— Z>ai% Chronicle.

B:MAKINaofaPRia:aNovel. By Evelyn Sharpe. 63.

"he splendid portrait of the potential prig raises the book almve the commonplace.
ielithor*s style has great merit, it is always neat, crisp, and unaffected, and shows the
itfl's keen sense of humour. ' The Making of a Prig ' is undoubtedly a strong book,
icd^entlonal and fresh without being either overdrawn or fantastic."

Pall Mall Gazette.

ti: TREE of LIFE : a Novel. By Netta Syrett. Crown

Ivo, 6s.
"jhe best novel of ita kind that has appeared for a long MaaB"—Academv.

I .

SECOND EDITION.

'^lELICTS : a Novel. By W. J. Locke. Crown 8vo, 6s.

"jr. Locke tells us his story in a very true, a vary moving, and a very noble book. If
i?w can read the last chapter with dry eyoa we shall be surprised. Derelicts ' is an

'plosive, an important hooK Yvonne is a creation that any artist might be proud of."

^___^^____^ Daily Chronicle.

JOHN LANE, The Bodley Head, Vigo Street, London, W.

MR. MURRAY'S NEW BOOKS

NOTES FROM A DIARY.— 1873-1881.

By the Rt Hon. Sir MOtTNTSTUART E. GRANT DUFF, G.C.S.L,

Sometime Under-Secretary of State for the Colonies, Governor of Madras, 1881-86.

2 vols., crown 8vo, 18s. ^Just out.

This work is a continuation and completion of the diaries from 1851 to 1872, published
by Sir M. B. Grant Daft last year.

LATER GLEANINGS: Theological and Ecclesiastical.

A New Series of Oleaning's of Past Tears.
By the Right Hon. W. E. GLADSTONE.

Second Edition. Boyal IBmo, 3s. ed. [^Jutt out.

KOREA AND HER NEIGHBOURS.

By Mrs. BISHOP.

With Maps and Hlustrations from the Author's Photographs.

Second Impression. 2 vols., crown 8vo, 248.

" Mrs. Bishop now comes to give the public exactly what was wanted — a book on Korea
nnd its affairs. Two excellent maps and a great number of illustrations add greatly to the
interest of a profoundly interesting book." — Times.

CANON GORE'S NEW WORK.

AN EXPOSITION of the EPISTLE to the EPHESIANS.

By the Rev. CHARLES GORE, Canon of Westminster.
Crown 8vo, 33. 6d.

BIMETALLISM.

A Summary and Examination of the Arguments For and Against
a Bimetallic System of Currency.

By Major LEONARD DARWIN.

Domy 8vo, 7s. 6d.

" The book is the best oontribntion to the currency controversy of recent years. It may
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By EDWARD JENKS, M. A., Reader in English Law in the University of Oxford.

Demy 8vo, 12s. [Just out.

" It would be scant praise to say that it is readable and interesting; to the reatler who
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THIRD IMPRESSION.

The LIFE of JOHN NICHOLSON, Soldier and Administrator

Based on Private and Hitherto Unpublished Documents.

By Capt. L. J. TROTTER.
With Portrait and Maps. 8vo, IBs.
" The reader who cares to know more of a man truly cast in a hero's mould should read
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" ' The Life of John Nicholson ' is a book which should be in every soldier's hands."

Pall Mall Oazeltt.

A FLOWER HUNTER

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With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, Us.

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Queensland and also in

[Jiiif out.

MEMOIRS OF A HIGHLAND LADY

(Sliss Grant of Rothiemurchus, afterwards Mrs. Smith of
Baltiboys, 1797-1885).

Edited by Lady STRACHEY.

Demy 8vo, lOs. 6d. [Jtist out.

NEW EDITION (NINTH) OF HANDBOOK TO SPAIN.

By RICHARD FORD.
Thoroughly Revised and Corrected and brought np to date. [Just ont.
Index and Directory of Hotels, 4 Maps and 68 carefully drawn Plans of Towna and Building*.-

2 vole., 20R.

JOHN MUEEAY, Albemarle Street.

244

THE ACADEMY.

[Feb. 26, 1898 J

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The objections to them,
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246

THE ACADEMY.

1 March 5. 18fl8.

PRUDENTIAL
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Summary of the Report presented at
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ORDINARY BRANCH.

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The total number of Policies in force at the
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247

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THE ACADEMY.

249

CONTENTS.

KVIKW8 :

[Mr. Henley's Poems ...

Tailor ami Chartist

Egyptolog>' and Consdenoe-Money

\ Book of Gossip

Devout Lyrics

The Round Towers of Ireland

V Maker of Empire

lEFER Mention

TioN Supplement

TBS AND News

puTATio-vs Reconsidered: Jane Austen

VKERPEARE FOE AMATEURS

SIS liKTTBR ... ...

Wkek

Book Makket

IRESPONDENCE ..

>K Reviews Reviewel/ '

'Ks Reoeiveu

Page

... 249

... 250

... 261

... 251

... 252

... 253

. . 253

... 253
265—258

... 269

... 262

... 264

... 265

... 266

... 267

REVIEWS.

poetry. Probably it was the stark realism
of the work that took the editors aback.
Accustomed to think of poetry as a golden
haze — not to say a golden syrup — in which
all harsh outlines must be steeped and
softened, they were repelled by the un-
compromising significance of every touch
in Mr. Henley's masterful etchings. Perhaps
" chloroform " was as yet a word unlicensed
for poetic uses, as crude as " telephone "
or " bicycle " would seem to-day. But it
needed no superhuman insight to see that
there was not only originality, but knowledge
and style, in the man who could write such
lines as these :

MR. HENLEY'S POEMS.

ms. By William Ernest Henley. (David
»futt.)

GREEABLE to hand and eye, without
4L prettiness or pettiness, this book pro-
mts Mr. Henley's poems in entirely appro-
i^ite garb. Its page is clear and attractive,
J proportioned — a point too often neglected
D itter-day books of verse — so as to show at
. lance the contour of a stanza. It has for
ntispiece a good photogravure of Rodin's
id and forceful bust of the author.
Ugether, it is a book we can accept
m immixed satisfaction, as the Library
EJey, without by any means dismissing
r< X our affections the Pocket Henleys of old.
'1 new numbers, with the exception of
'.rabian Nights Entertainments" and a
o;nantly beautiful "Epilogue," are not
fjthe first importance; and the ex-
liiions, mainly from the "Bric-a-brac"
f I the 1888 edition, are judicious
High. It gives one a Httle shock of
U n to hear that a favourite poet has been
iriering with his text ; but Mr. Henley's

-ms, so far as I have noted them, are

A fiy vital. Here and there one mildly

'iiiids them; nowhere do they seem to

' ' r protest. After all, as Mr. Henley

Ids preface, "his verses are his own,
lua is how he would have them read."
is almost incredible, though believe it
lUst since Mr. Henley says so, that for
r fifteen years he found himself, as a
'" "utterly unmarketable," and that liis

ital" sequence was "rejected by

■ litor of standing in London." Who

I lese editors ? It were wiser not
' 'liuire ; for the law does not permit us,
itiut good and sufficient reason, to drag
1 1 ) light of day the stains upon a man's
asi Some of the editors, no doubt, have

- time gone to be edited them-
and, if literary sins count for
.igj. in the reckoning, they shall hardly
Da.} the Waste-Paper Basket. For these
Hjipital Rhymes and Rhythms," though
^ejt do not mark the summit of Mr.
leiiy's achievement, should have revealed
«|.yone witli lialf an eye for literary

the presence of a new force in

ilui

" Behold me waiting — wailing for the knife.
A Httle while, and at a leap I storm
26» The thick, sweet mystery of chloroform,
270 The dnmken dark, the little death-in-life " —

or who could tell how

"the ansBsthetic reaches
Hot and subtle through your being.

And you gasp and reel and shudder
In a rushing, swaying rapture,
While the voices at your elbow
Fade — receding — fainter — farther.

Lights about you shower and tumble.
And your blood seems crystallising —
Edged and vibrant, yet within you,
Eacked and hurried back and forward."

Even if such " edged and vibrant "
writing jarred on foregone conceptions of
poetry, it was surely remarkable enough,
simply as writing, to command interest and
attention. Condemnable it might be ; but
what sane editor would hesitate a moment
to invite the world to decide the question ?
And even if the masterly portraiture, the
tersely-touched episodes of hospital comedy
and tragedy, failed to make their due im-
pression, the pure poetry of such pieces as
" Pastoral " and " Noctum " ought to have
been manifest to the meanest intelligence.
In "Pastoral" the poet, cabined in the
dreary ward, sees a vision of the Spring
which is gladdening the world outside :

" Vistas of change and adventxire,
Thro' the green land
The grey roads go beckoning and winding.

. Green flame the hedgerows.
Blackbirds are bugling, and white in wet
winds

Sway the tall poplars

O, the brilliance of blossoming orchards,

O, the savour and thrill of the ivoods,

When their leafage is stirred

By the flight of the Angel of Rain !

Loud lows the steer ; in the fallows

Rooks are alert ; and the brooks

Gurgle and tinkle and trill. Thro' the

gloaming,
Under the rare, shy stai-s,
Boy and girl wander,
Dreaming in darkness and dew."

What nimbleness, what multiplicity of sensa-
tion there is in this poem ! How fresh, how
cool and dewy it is ! And, though the lines
are not minted to pattern, like rouleaux
of five-shilling pieces, or alternate crowns
and doUars, what a perfect sense of rhythmic
beauty informs them ! The poem lacks
imagery, some may say ; but imagery is
the ornament, not the essential substance,
of poetry. To attain beauty without
ornament is perhaps a greater, certainly a

harder, task than to pile trope on trope,
and figure on figure. And if it comes to that,
I should be glad to hear of a lovelier image
than the one I have italicised.

The impermeable density of the Able
Editors had the effect of practically putting
Mr. Henley to silence during ten of the best
years of his life, and thus notably im-
poverishing English poetry. It was by a
sort of chance that in 1888 the Hospital
Rhythms, with the " Echoes " and " Bric-i,-
Brac " at last saw the light. Among the
"Echoes" were "Out of the night that
covers me," the "King in Babylon," "On
the way to Kew," "To R. L. S." "Mar-
garitso Sorori," and other noble num-
bers; among the " Bric-d-Brac " were the
" Ballade of Midsummer Days and
Nights" and the "Ballade made in Hot
Weather " ; but stiU criticism, except in
one or two quarters, was half-hearted if
not supercilious. Then came his second
booklet (1892). In "The Song of the
Sword," "London Voluntaries," and the
"Rh3rmes and Rhythms" which eked out
the Uttle volume Mr. Henley had shaken
off the influence of Heine, occasionally
traceable in his earlier work, and soared
into the sphere of Milton. Squarely based on
the magnificent success of the four "London
Voluntaries," his reputation was now secure.
Yet it has taken six years for the mass of the
reading public to realise how indisputable id
his place in the foremost rank of our poets
To praise him now is to beat at an open
door ; but truly the hinges have been long
a-tuming.

Why has it taken Mr. Henley all these
years to come into his kingdom ? Because
of the small bulk of his writings, say some,
no doubt with partial truth. But there
is more than this in the matter. The
essential truth is, I believe, that Mr. Henley
does not deal in the kinds of poetry which
most readily catch the public ear. He does
not write ballads, he does not confect idylls,
he does not psychologise, he does not philo-
sophise on current topics — agnosticism, or
heredity, or trade-unionism, or what not.
There is no story in his poems, no drama, no
allegory. They are never versified leading-
articles. They do not make for edification,
or, to use the more popular catchword, for
"culture " ; and, their meaning being as clear
as daylight, they offer no scope for co-opera-
tive conjecture. Mr. Henley, in his verse, is
two things : a painter- etclier and a pure
lyrist. In the former capacity his touch is
too stem, too precise, and of too condensed
significance to allure the popular eye,
which prefers a smoother surface, a more
luscious tone. As a lyrist, again, Mr,
Henley, though a master - rhymer when
he pleases, is apt to renounce the aid of
rhyme and strict melodic form. Now the
triangle, though we may not realise it, is
one of the most popular instruments in the
band, and not to be lightly dispensed with.
Moreover, though Mr. Henley does not, if I
may put it so, deliberately intellectualise, a
somewhat aggressive personal philosophy
runs through his lyrics — a grim stoicism,
with an inclination to envisage life in
its grotesquer aspects. This is not pleasing
to many worthy people. Ladies especially,
I fancy, resent Mr. Henley's outlook

250

THE ACADEMY.

[Maech 5, IH»8.

on the world, in which they are apt to
figure as " womon." Yet again, his
sedulous realism of diction, his disuse of
the conventional poetic dialect, has tended
to retard Mr. Henley's acceptance. He has
been handicapped, in a word, by his
very strength, and the marked indi-
viduality of his temperament. He has
been to many people (and not always
to the mere Philistine) something of an
acquired taste. But the appetite, once
awakened, will never be cloyed. It is the
BaccharLne quality in verse that palls,
whereas Mr. Henley's is always tome and
astringent. Here, for instance, is a lync
which, once felt, wiU abide with you for

ever:

" To M. E. H.

When you wake in your crib,

Ton, an inch of experience —

Vaulted about

With the wonder of darkness ;

Wailing and striving

To reach from your feebleness

Something you feel

Will be good to and cherish you,

Something you know

And can rest upon blindly :

O, then a hand

(Your mother's, your mother's 1)

By the faU of its fingers

AU knowledge, all power to you,

Out of the dreary,

Discouraging strangenesses

Comes to and masters you.

Takes you, and lovingly

Woos you and soothes you

Back, as you cling to it,

Back to some comforting

Comer of sleep.

So you wake in your bed,

Having lived, having loved :

But the shadows are there,

And the world and its kingdoms

Incredibly faded ;

And you grope through the Terror

Above you and under

For the Ught, for the warmth,

The assurance of life ;

But the blasts are ioe-bom,

And your heart is nigh burst

With the weight of the gloom

And the stress of your strangled

And desperate endeavour :

Sudden a hand —

Mother, O Mother ! —

God at His best to you.

Oat of the roaring.

Impossible silences,

Falls on and urges you,

Mightily, tenderly.

Forth, as you clutch at it.

Forth to the infinite

Peace of the Grave."

Mr. Henley has not, I think, done any-
thing better than this. Elsewhere, in the
poem inscribed "Matri Dileotissimss," he
has written :

" Dearest, live on
In such an immortality
As we thy sons,
Bom of thy body and nursed
At those wild faithful breasts,
' Hn ive of generous thought*
Aiid honourable words, and deeds
That make men half in love with fate I "

"To M. E. H.," and many others of Mr.
Henley's poems, may well be reckoned
among such " deeds."

WiLUAJt AuonKB.

TA.ILOE AND CHAETI8T.

Tfw Life of Francis Place, 1771-1854.
Graham Wallas, M.A. (Longmans.)

Mr. Graham Wallas has already won
himself two reputations — as a municipal
administrator and as a thoughtful student
of social and economic problems. From
the top of these he would assail literature.
He does so by no means without success. His
biography of Francis Place is too long and
detailed — it is the chronic complaint of the
modem biography; but it is written with
great skill, with wide knowledge of the
thorny political ways of the first half of the
century, and above all with an occasional
touch of shrewd epigram. Moreover, it is a
work of amazing industry. Place left an
autobiography so voluminous as to be rather
a History of his life and Times, together
with innumerable letters, books, and news-
papers, amounting in all to more than
seventy volumes. Through these Mr.
Wallas has burrowed his way, and we
have hardly the heart to blame him for not
rejecting more of the superfluous material
that he must have gathered together during
his task.

The earlier life of Francis Place was, as
Mr. Wallas hints, a subject worthy of the
pen of Mr. Smiles. His father, a man of
ferocious temper, kept a " sponging house "
in Vinegar-yard. The son was apprenticed
to a maker of leather breeches, and grew up
in the rowdy purlieus of Drury-lane. Nor
did he find his environment particularly
uncongenial. " He was skilled in street
game.s, a hunter of bullocks in the Strand,
an obstinate faction fighter, and a daily
witness of every form of open crime and
debauchery." He belonged to the crew of
an eight-oared cutter, of which the cox was
transported for robbery and the stroke
hanged for murder. Then he married and
became steady, frugal, and industrious.
The young couple were locally known as
" the Lady and Gentleman." After various
vicissitudes of journeyman employment and
strikes, which somewhat tried his domestic
relations, he managed to set up a small
tailoring business of his own, and found this
the first step to a fortune. Presently he
moved to Charing Cross, and had the largest
plate-glass windows in London. Of his
professional struggles he would speak with
considerable cynicism :

"How often have I taken away a garment
for a fault which did not exist, and which I,
of course, never intended to rectify. How often
have I taken back the same garment without
it ever having been unfolded, and been com-
mended for the alteration which had not been
made, and then been reprehended for not
having done what was right at first. ... A
man, to be a good tailor should be either a
philosopher or a lupan cringing slave, whoso
feelings had never been excited to the pitch of
manhood."

Philosophy, you will infer, was the alter-
native chosen by Place. Tailoring, indeed,
was never his life. That was really passed
in the little parlour behind his shop,
which welcomed his intimates and dis-
creetly excluded his customers. Place had
always been a voracious reader, and, as
soon as his means permitted, he got to-

gether a considerable collection of books,
mainly upon political and economic sub-
jects. Gradually the tailor's "library"
became the rendezvous for all the rebeUious
spirits of Westminster, Place himself their
mentor and political guide. He was not
only a reader and thinker, but an admir-
able organiser, and such men as Sir
Francis Burdett turned instinctively to him
for advice. About 1808 he became acquainted
with James Mill, and was drawn into the
circle that revolved around the speculative
Jeremy Bentham. Place has left some
letters written during a visit to Ford Abbey,
where Bentham and Mill were then living
together, which throw an interesting light
on the philosopliic minage. He fully con-
firms the account of Mill's educational
methods given in his more famous son's
autobiography :

" His method is by far the best I ever wit-
nessed, and is infinitely precise ; but he if
excessively severe. No faiilt, however trivial,
escapes his notice; none goes without repre-
hension or punishment of some sort. Lessons
have not been well said this morning by Willif
and Clara ; there they are now, three o'clock
plodding over their books, their dinner, whicl
they knew went up at one, brought down again
and John, who dines with them, has his bool
also, for having permitted them to pass whei
they could not say, and no dinner will any o
them get till six o'clock. This has happenef
once before since I came. The fault to-day i
a mistake in one word. Now I could not be si
severe ; but the learning and reasoning thes'
children have acquired is not equalled by an;
children in the whole world, John is tnil;
a prodigy, a most wonderful fellow ; and, whei
his Logic, his Languages, his Mathematics, hi
Philosophy, shall be combined with a genera
knowledge of mankind and the afPairs of th
world, he will be a truly astonishing man
but he will probably be morose and selfisl
Mill sees this : and I am operating upon Ui
when the little time I can spare can he s
applied, to counteract these jjropensities, s
far as to give him a bias towards the manage
ment of his temper, and to produce an exteii
sive consideration of the reasonings and habit
of others, when the time shall come for him t
observe and practise these things."

Under the inspiration of Bentham, Plac
attempted to take part in the literar
propaganda of Utilitarianism, but withoi
much success. Of one of his articles Mi
Wallas says that it " simply cannot be reac
.... It consists of a pointless series c
facts from original sources, put together i
a style compared with which that (
Stubbs' ' Constitutional History ' is airy an
journalistic." But his activities as advisf
and inspirer-general of London Liberalisi
continued unabated. He took a leadin
part in the establishment of British School
carried on a vigorous neo - Malthusia
crusade, and was the moving spirit i
the abolition of the Combination Law
Throughout the campaigns which precede
the Eeform Bill of 1832, his library serve
as the headquarters of the agitation;
was he who finally discomfited the Duke i
Wellington by the issue of the placai
containing the famous advice to "go ij
gold." He, too, it was who drew up tl
famous "People's Charter" which led
the abortive movement known as ChartiH
He never sought to appear much in pubu
but the leading Eadtoals of the day we

March 5, 1898. |

THE ACADEMY.

251

jjlafl to resort to liiin for counsel and in-
itruction, and Mr. WaUas qiiotea an amusing
lescription, from the hand of an enemy, of
lis relations to that intrepid reformer,
foseph Hume :

" Look over the notices of motion, and see
Then Joseph is to storm sixpence laid out in
he decoration of a public work, or sack the
lalary of a clerk in a public oflBce, and when
•ou find that in a day or two it is to astonish
■;t. Stephen's and delight the land, then go,
f you can gain admission, to the library of this
ndefatigable statesman, and you will discover
lim schooling the Nabob hke a baby. There
ipon that three-fcotod stool, gowned in whole-
(ime grey, with an absolute avalanche of
■chemes, scraps and calculations around him,
■its the philosophic sage, delivering his golden
iules with the slowness and the certainty of the
ihoicest alembic ; and yonder, squatted upon a
ile of unread pamphlets, sits the substantial
.upU, with his whole coimtenance perked into
ine gigantic ear of astonishment and delight.
;The wild ass quaffing the spring in the desert,'
lys the Arabian proverb, ' is not so lovely as
pe countenance of him who drinketh under-
;anding.' "

We could wish that Mr. Wallaa had not

pnfined himself so entirely to narrative, but

lad attempted to define for us a little more

irecisely the exact position held by Francis

jiace in the history of early nineteenth-cen-

iry Liberalism. A great thinker he was not,

or a great orator, and yet he seems to have

Qpressed the imagination of his contem-

jraries more than a mere wirepuller could

iiite do. Eobert Owen called him the

real leader of the "Whig party," and, in-

eed, he seems to have been in his way a

enuine leader of men, with the powers of

itiative, stimulus, and control with which

) leader can afford to dispense.

EGYPTOLOGY AND CONSCIENCE-
MONEY.

'ligion and Conmence in Ancient Egypt :
Being Lectures Delivered at Universitj
College, London. By W. M. Flinders
Petrie, D.C.L., &c. (Methuen & Co.)

] :op. Flikders Petrie is certainly a most
Tirsatile man. When not engaged in dis-
q.-ering important documents of antiquity
ij the last place one would have thought
cj looking for them — as, for instance,
tj) remains of cannibalism in Egypt or
wieiform tablets in (with apologies for
til neologism) hieroglyjihiferous strata — he
rjihea back to Gower-street and, as Edwards
Pofessor of Egyptology, delivers lectures
■wich, at any rate, delight his audience by
tiling them something they did not know
b'ore. No one but he would have thought
o| applying the statistics of conscienco-
nJney to the illustration of Egyptian
clracter; yet with the help of an im-
ainary opponent the task presents to him
njdifficulty. " The Egyptians had a much
htter idea of the degrees of right and
wimg than their neighbours," says the
Pj'fessor. " Are there, then, degrees of
wing ? " replies nastily the Devil's Advo-
cfl(!. " Certainly there are," rejoins the
Plfesgor. "Take lying as an example"

— and he jots down ou his blackboard a
scale of lies having at one end the lie "to
save many innocent lives," and at the other
the lie told "from hatred of anything going
aright." How many people will tell each
of these lies ? " says the adversary, shift-
ing his ground a bit. " They will tell
them in accordance with the law of
distribution of errors, or probability curve,"
says the Professor, promptly drawing a
picture of the said curve. " How do you
know that the law of distribution applies to
morals ? " says the adversary, conscious that
he is getting rather the worst of it. "By
the conscience-money anonymously paid into
the Exchequer," triumphantly replies the
Professor, and he bombards his opponent
with figures showing that the usual payment
takes the shape of "a convenient £5 note,"
rather than the £5 16s. which it appears the
conscience-stricken one ought to pay. It is
all very pretty, and the Devil's Advocate
is very quickly routed, but we confess it
seems to us a long way from this to Ancient
Egypt.

This, however, is a flippant way of looking
at the subject. Let us hasten to say that
Prof. Petrie has collected two hundred
ethical maxims from different Egyptian
monuments, and classified and analj'sed them
with much skill. In the result he pro-
nounces the standard of character among the
Ancient Egyptians to be much more like
that of the eighteenth century among our-
selves than that of the nineteenth :

" Their virtues are quitt and discreet; their
vices are calculating. They belong far more to
the tone of Chesterfielf) and Gibbon than to
that of Kingsley or Carlyle ; they accord with
Pope or Thomson rather than with Swinburne
or Tennyson. There is hardly a single splendid
feeling ; there is not one burst of magnani-
mous sacrifice ; there is not one heartfelt self-
depreciation, in any point of all this worldly
wisdom. They are as cauny as a Scot, without
his sentiment; as prudent as a Frenchman,
without his ideals; as f elf-conceited as an
Englishman, without his family."

The lecturer can hardly have studied
Egyptian monuments as thoroughly as he
has without coming to a probably just con-
clusion as to the character of the people who
made them. But we had rather take his
word for it than follow him through his
proofs. For the Egyptians left behind
them no pictures of contemporary manners
like our novels, journals, and police reports;
and the maxims Prof. Petrie quotes are
exclusively collections of precepts of the
5th, 11th, 12th, and 19th Dynasties collated
with the Book of the Dead, which may be of
any age, and a Louvro papyrus which is
known to be Ptolemaic. If Macaulay's
New Zealander were to form his opinion of
English character only from the Ten Com-
mandments, the Church Catechism, the
Babees' Hook of the Early English Text
Society, and a modern work on etiquette, he
would get at a very queer jumble indeed.

The case is different with the religion of
Ancient Egypt, as to which there is a fair
amount of evidence collected from the
numerous hymns and scraps of ritual found
in the inscriptions. We are glad to see,
also, that Prof. Petrie here depends chiefly
upon the generalisations of M. Maspero,
than whom no better or more cautious ,

guide in Egyi^tological matters can be found.
Yet even here he makes some unexpected
statements, as when he speaks of magic as
"probably the very earliest form of belief."
His assertion, too, that " doses of poison
and also of serpent's blood taken internally
confer on the eater immunity from the
effects of injected poison, such as that
infused by bites," is not one which should
have been made without full reference to
his authority. Nor do we think that he
woidd be able to produce conclusive proof
that the Labarum (or monogram of XB) is
"essentially the sign of Horus, and only
became Christian by adoption." But these
are obiter dicta of the Professor, and do not
affect his conclusions as to the general
nature of the Egyptian religion, which are
here stated. These are, to put them briefly,
that Egypt worshipped the four classes of
" animal gods, essentially human gods
(Osirian group), the cosmogonic gods (Ea
group), and the gods of human principles."
Each of these four classes are, according to
him, connected with one of the four races
of Negroes, Libyans, Mesopotamians, and
Punites, who, he thinks, succeeded each
other in Egypt in the order named. This
is a new theory, which would g(j some way
towards introducing order into the present
chaos of the Egyptian Pantheon, and we
shall be anxious to see if it is supported or
adopted by any otlier Egyptologist. At
present, however, Prof. Petrie admits that
it is only an hypothesis, and that these
lectures are chiefly intended "to suggest a
mode of looking at the subj ect." Meanwhile,
we hope that Prof. Petrie will devote a little
more time to the history of other religions,
and the road by which they have arrived at
their higher stages of development. If he
does so, he may find an explanation of
many things which now puzzle him, as
when he fails to reconcile the practice of
mummification with the theory of the exist-
ence of they'd or material soul independently
of the body. The fact tiiat many ministers
of religion, while asking the advice of the
Meteorological Department when choosing a
day for a school feast, still c mtinue to pray
for rain at the request of their congregations,
seems to be a case directly in point.

A BOOK OF GOSSIP.

Social Hours with Celebrities. By Mrs. W
Pitt Byrne. (Ward & Downey.)

We have already had a couple of volumes
of reminiscences from the late Mrs. W. Pitt
Byrne, the author of Flemish Interiors,
under the title of Gossip of the Century.
But after her death her sister and literary
executrix, Miss E. H. Busk, found among her
papers sufficient notes to make up two more
volumes. In piquancy and interest Social
Hours with Celebrities falls behind the pre-
ceding work. But it also is the record of
a clever woman who lived long, saw much,
observed well, and — most important in such
a case — prattled freely ; dip where you
will, you will find something to amuse and
not infrequently something to instruct. In
the fir»t few pages, for iustauce, we fiaU

252

THE ACADEMY.

[March 5, 1898.

Mrs. Pitt Byrne in Paris, where she knew
Emile de Girardin and his co-proprietor of
La France, the Vicomte de la Gueronmere.
The Vicomte's "matrimonial inUrieur was
not a united or happy one," and "it was
pretty notorious in Paris that the Vicomte
preferred the society of another lady to that
of his own wife."

" He died very suddenly, and the grief of the
' other lady ' was violent in the extreme ; she
had sought to see hun in his dying moments as
he lay upon a mattress on the floor, and, regard-
less of convenances, remained in the concierge s
loge that she might be kept informed of all that
went on. One of the most characteristic scenes
I ever remember (and one that could scarcely
have happened unless in France) occurred when,
a few days after the Vicomte's death, I went to
pay this lady a visit of condolence— for the liaison
was so well known that she quite expected this
courtesy— I found her reclining on a couch in a
paroxysm of grief, while her good-natured little
old husband, seated affectionately beside her,
was doing his best to dry her tears and console
her grief ! "

At the present moment the following note
has a certain significance. It refers to the
year 1890:

"At the house of Marius Eoux, the Provencal
novelist, I have met Emile Zola and his wife
among the guests. As for Mme. Zola she is of
imposing dimensions, but lacks the cultivation
which would make those dimensions an ad-
vantage ; in a certain class she would be
considered a handsome woman.

Zola himself, then a man of about fifty, had
a prematurely ' high forehead,' which imparted
a certain staidness to his aspect. His conversa-
tion was most impartial as regarded subjects,
and he spoke on all as a man of the world and
a man of wide experience; but his language
was remarkable rather for refinement than
otherwise ; his expressions were all well chosen
and yet seemed to come to him naturally and
without efforjt or hesitation. If there was any
call for remark on his manner it would be on
the score of a well-bred reticence, which, how-
ever, may be practised as a matter of calculation
and diplomacy, though it appeared natural ;
still I should say there was a good deal of the
poseur about him, and he cannot be said to be
without affectation. I was told that Zola
pointedly shuns any matter of conversation that
would lead to a mention of any of his works,
and has therefore a way of introducing and
keeping to certain sets of subjects which help
him to avoid them."

Of Cardinal Manning, Mrs. Pitt Byrne
has much to say that is interesting, more
particularly, perhaps, to her fellow Catholics.
It was a curious phase of his character that
made him in his later years dislike any
allusion to his marriage, and wish that no
mention of it should occur in his biography.
But his popularity is shown hy the following
incident which occurred when his dead body
was lying in state :

"An imsympathetic passer-by ventiured the
remark, ' I dou't know why they're making all
this fuss about him. What did he ever do to
deserve it ? ' ' An' is it what did he iver do, ye
mane 'f ' said a pugnacious Hibernian near him.
' You jiat come outside an' take off yer coat,
an' I'U show yer what he did.' "

Some excellent stories are told of Cardinal
Wiseman ; but one cannot help suspecting —
and hoping — that this picture of iSpurgeon
is coloured by religious prejudice :

" Spurgeon was spending the winter at the
Gfrand Hotel at Mentone, where I was an inmate

for a few days. He gave himself no little
importance, occupied with his suite, the best
suite of rooms in the house, those of the first
floor in the centre pavilion — spacious, lofty, and
well-furnished —and as he rarely came into the
public salon in the evening, there was a lot of
fun— supported with a good deal of champagne
— indulged in in his private apartments. Many
of the gentlemen were occasionally invited to
go in, and have told me that, even when he
gave them a set discoiu-se, as he occasionally
did, it was deUvered in so humorous a tone,
and so freely interspersed with picturesque
metaphors and allusions, that it really was ' as
good as a play.' ... At the table d'hdte he had
stipulated to sit at the head of the table with
his four 'deacons,' two on each side of him;
and as (together with himself) they were (like
George Cruickshauk's omnibus passengers) ' all
fat,' they made a portly show. The further to
distinguish his party, they dined when the rest
of us took our dejeuner or lunch, aud they were
served with tea (high tea) when we dined."

Space forbids us to quote from the second
volume, which contains, among other things,
the record of a visit to Squire Waterton of
Walton Hall, that curious country gentle-
man who turned his estate into a refuge for
wild fowl, stuffed animals as an amusement,
and while himself living a life of rigid
asceticism, and sleeping on a rough-hewn
block of oak, kept open house and a
generous table for his friends. But did
Longfellow, as Mrs. Pitt Byrne alleges, steal
the well-known lines beginning,

" As ships that pass in the night, and speak
each other in passing,"

from the prose of J. T. Beecher, the friend
of Byron?

forms or the conceits that border upon
extravagance.

The following is about the best that Mr.
Housman can do, and it leaves us unmoved ;
his theme is the theological doctrine of
Kenosis, the deliberate submission by the
Absolute to the limitations of mortality.

" Now, this first time. Thine Eyes must look ou
walls I

Where Thy Hands cannot reach.

Hands stretch and do beseech ;
Where Thine Ear cannot hear. Thine earth

for succour calls !
Oh, little Heart,

Beat fast, and grow !
The whole world's smart

Through Thee, one day, must flow,
Oh, childish Ears, attend,
Being friend to aU men's fears !

Oh, childish Eyes,

Would ye of man be wise.
Ye must the channel be to all men's tears I "

Later on, Mr. Housman goes far to spoil
the poem by talking of " the starried
night," which does not seem to mean any-
thing, and is, in fact, an affectation.

We have sought with some pains for
another specimen which would not do Mr.
Housman an injustice. The following
seems to have a touch of humanity which
comes as a relief.

" To St. Francis.

{For his licence of a wineshop kept hy one of hit
Tertiaries.)

O Francis, servant of the Living Vine,

Since all that are His branches bear good

fruit.
So in my spirit let His Life find root.

And let me serve Him, sending forth good

DEVOUT LYEIOS.

Spikenard : a Book of Devotional Love Poems.
By Laurence Housman. (Grant Richards.)

Mr. HorsMAN, like Mr. Thompson, throws
back for the manner of his religious verse
to the seventeenth century. He does not,
however, quite catch the accent of individu-
ality which is so notable in each one of his
great models. He has nothing to put against
the sweet sunniness of Herbert, the sombre
intensity of Donne, the spiritual insight of
Vaughan, the spiritual ecstasy of Crashaw.
Had we to judge him in an epithet, we
think that it would have to be " tame."
Mr. Housman has the poetic feeling, and
something of the poetic aptitude ; neverthe-
less he fails at any one moment quite to
sting us or to carry us away. It may
be that he has only mistaken his style.
Devotional poetry is probably the rarest
kind of poetry. It may even be maintained
that to one writer only since the seventeenth
century closed has the gift been given. The
emotion concerned is so subtle, so undefined,
that often enough in the effort to give it
form it must needs evanesce ; the aspiration
win not endure the fetters of speech. And
if you cannot, as most certainly you cannot,
detain it in the simplicity of the common
hymn tune, neither wUl you be more suc-
cessful with the lure of elaborate stanza-

For wine God gave, to make man's heart be
glad ;
Till came the foe who sowed the bitter tares,
And gluttony to vaunt her evil wares :

Wherefore to-day so many homes are sad.

0 thou. His servant, with his patient signs
Of suffering in thy feet, and side, and hands,
Pray Him with power to purge His pleasant
lands,
And catch the fgxes that have spoiled the
vines."

To this immediately succeeds a terrible
poem, for "The Feast of the Invention
of the Cross," in which Mr. Housman
descends to the puerile trick of printing
nearly every "t" as a capital letter. The
effect is exceedingly ludicrous. This is the
kind of thing :

" Made iT Thy FooTsTool and Thy Throne,"

or again :

" A symbol of Thine ouTsTreTched Hands."

If Mr. Housman will take the trouble tc
read Donne's fine poem on " Good Friday,
he will perhaps be on the way to realist th(
mechanical nature of his own conception o)
symbolism.

Maboh 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

253

CHE EOTJND TOWEES OF IRELAND.

Th Round Toicers of Ireland. By Henry

O'Brien. Edited by "W. H. C." (Thacker

& Co.)

)'Brien's celebrated work on the Eound

[owers bas long been a scarce book, and

be issue of a mere reprint would bave been

I distinct boon to those interested in the

uuch agitated subject of which it treats.

3ut "W. H. 0." has done a great deal

acre than this. In the first place, he has

^iven us a really masterly Introduction,

lear, scholarly, and sane, on a topic in the

liscussion of which sanity at least has

lot always been conspicuously prominent.

Equally welcome is his excellent Synopsis.

?hose who are familiar with O'Brien's in-

oherent pages, and have experienced the

rritation induced by the effort of following

is rambling arguments, further distracted

Is they are by frequent digressions into

ituperation of his opponents, will be grate-

|al for this act of consideration on the part

jf the editor. As everybody knows, O'Brien

jiaimed for the Towers a PhaUic origin,

|ad when his book first appeared it was

ireeted with a mingled storm of horror,

lidignation, and, worst of all, ridicule. But

iaring the sixty years or so that have

lapsed since then the growth of wider

jethods and a less conventional spirit of in-

I dry has resulted in showing that his con-

ntion is probably founded on a substratum

truth. A vast amount of nonsense has

i doubt been written about PhaUicism,

d pretty well every object under

e siin, natural or artificial, has been

sed into the service of the theory.

oreover, the doctrine has perhaps been

imewhat unduly discredited by the fact

iaX many of its advocates, and those not

io least vociferous among them, have been

|rsons inadequately equipped in respect of

mining and knowledge, and, with less

^cuse than O'Brien, fantastic and intem-

rjrate of expression. Yet sound and sober

r.earch has abundantly proved how univer-

sly the traces of this bygone worship

a pear, more or less plainly, in the religious

B items of the present day, from the crude

a 1 material beliefs of savagery to the most

rlned and idealised developments of the

h;her faiths. So with the Irish Round

Iwers. Even if we are unable to bring

oj'selves to admit the likelihood that these

nisterious edifices were avowedly built

f(j the purpose asserted by those who think

wjli O'Brien, it is difficidt to resist the

exclusion that in form at any rate they are

a survival of the ancient Phallic ciilt,

ttugh the survival may have been uncon-

8(^iU8, the form but teaditional, the cult

fqjotten. In that case, whether within the

li; its of the ken of history, this fashion of

te pie lived on as a fire-shrine or a

cijuation-fane, a penitential column or a

sa-od observatory, a belfry or what not,

it ivcd on as many other tokens of dead

CDds do — that is, in externals which have

c^fed to convey any definite meaning or

w<)8e meaning has insensibly changed.

B^ this is not the place for a disserta-

tic on the Eound Towers or on religious

■^VjUtion. All that remains to be said here

is iiat the editor has prefixed a life and a

portrait of the author, that he has consulted
modern tastes by addiiig an index, and that,
except for the superiority of the illustra-
tions, no one need wish to possess a copy of
the original edition.

A MAKEE OF EMPIEE.

Life of Sir John Haivley Glover, JR.JY.,
G.C.M.G. By Lady Glover. Edited by
the Et. Hon. Sir Eichard Temple, Bart.
(Smith, Elder & Co.)

The kernel of this book was a narrative,
written at the desire of the Colonial Office,
of the share taken by Sir John Glover in the
Ashanti War of 1874. During this cam-
paign Sir John was detailed to cover the
main advance of Sir Garnet Wolseley upon
Coomassie with a native column, composed
chiefly of those Haussa troops which excited
so much interest in London last June. It
has been expanded into a full account of a
career spent in the indefatigable service —
naval, military, and administrative — of the
country. Sir John Glover entered the Navy
in 1841, saw fighting in Burmah, and on
the outbreak of the Crimean War went on
the Rosamond to the BeJtic. Here an in-
teresting incident occurred.

"The Rosamond was steaming on her course
when a smart-looking vessel was observed pro-
cee'ling leisurely close in shore. Mr. Glover
said they 'might cut her off and capture her,'
but the captain thought it would not be prudent
to attempt it, as the enemy was in force in the
neighbourhood. Lieutenant Glover rejoined,
' Yon don't know. You might be losing the
chance of a lifetime by neglecting it.' They
watched the strange vessel, which presently
passed out of gun-shot distance, when the
Russian standard was run up, and a royal salute
was fired. It turned out that the emperor was
on board ! "

Shortly afterwards Glover was sent out
to conduct a survey of the Niger, and
this led to his resignation of his naval
career and his appointment as Governor of
Lagos. In this position he showed gjreat
tact and discretion, and ' Golobar ' became a
household word among the West African
tribes. He was a man of commanding
personality and of a great variety of
interests. Sir Eichard Temple describes
him as 'a man of dash and daring, strong
in frame, so fond of riding and driving that
he might almost be called a tamer of horses,
a superb marksman, a competent draughts-
man, a graphic word painter, and a negotiator
gifted with the power of ingratiating him-
self with strangers.' He was of the stuff of
which our greater colonists are made, and
shared to the full that blend of religious,
commercial, and patriotic enthusiasm so
characteristic of the latter-day Imperialist.
In this connexion we cannot forbear quoting
an amusing passage preserved by Lady
Glover :

" A chief once said to him, ' I know what
happens to our poor country. First comes
missionary — well, he very good man, he write
book. Then come consul ; he write home.
Then comes merchant, he very good man, he
buy nuts. Then comes governor ; he — well, he

writes to Queeny. She send him back. She
send man-o'-war. Our country done spoil —
no more of our poor place left.' "

After the Ashanti War Sir John Glover was
appointed Governor of Newfoundland, and
held this post, with a short interval as
Governor of the Leeward Islands, untU a
few months before his death, in 1885.

From the point of view of literature the
biography has no particular merit : there is
a lavish waste of words put together with
somewhat primitive art. An exception must,
however, be made for the Introduction and
the narrative of the Ashanti War, which
we owe to the vigorous and practised
hand of Sir Eichard Temple. If he had
undertaken the whole book, and made
it about one-third of its present length,
we should really have had a more salient
record of an interesting man.

BRIEFER MENTION.

The War of the TFenuses. By C. L. Graves
and E. V. Lucas. (Arrowsmith.)

AS a general rule a parody is sorry reading,
for the writer takes some pin's-head of
peculiarity in his original and hammers at it
with a sledge-hammer untU we are weary.
You might count the reaUy amusing parodies
on the fingers of one hand — two or three
of Mr. Bret Harte's Condensed Novels, Mr.
Burnand's Strapmore (his New Sandford and
Merlon was really an original work), and
possibly Mr. Traill's Barlarous Britishers,
the inversion of Mr. Grant Allen's British
Barbarians.

Mr. C. L. Graves and Mr. E. V. Lucas
have now perpetrated an outrage — this
word is theirs — on Mr. H. G. Wells's War
of the Worlds, and they call it The War
of the Wenuses. It has many merits. It is
short ; it is funny ; and the authors, having
a keen sense of style, have stuck their pens
into all the little idiosyncrasies of their
victim. The idea is that the pale pink
planet Wenus is gradually in its orbit
advancing sunward.

" That is to say, it is rapidly becoming too hot
for clothes to be worn at all ; and this, to the
Wenuses, was so alarming a prospect that the
immediate problem of life became the discovery
of new quarters notable for a gentler cUmate
and more copious fashions."
So the Wenuses invade the earth, descend-
ing, not as the Martians descended, in
cyunders, but in crinolines, and armed not
with heat-rays but with tea-trays. Com-
pare this passage with the original, one of
many which the authors have gently tweaked
into absurdity :

" Men Uke Quellen of Dresden watched the
pale pink planet— it is odd, by the way, that
for countless centuries Wenus has been the star
of Eve — evening by evening growing alternately
paler and pinker than a literary agent, but
failed to interpret the extraordinary phenomena,
resembling a series of powder-puffs, which he
observed issuing from the cardiac penumbra
on this night of April Ist, 1902."

We will not give the joke away by
describing what happened to the Wenuses

254

THE ACADEMY.

[Maboh 5, 1898.

wlien they reached the earth. A^d
probably no one will enjoy it more than Mr.
WeUs himself, to whom the "outrage is
gracefully dedicated.

The Kingdom of the Yellow Role. By Ernest
Young. (Constable & Co.)

Tins is a very entertaining book. Mr.
Young was attached for some years to the
Education Department at Bangkok, and he
describes the daily habits of the Siamese in
minute detail. To write a dull book about
Siam would tax even a dull man. The
Siamese are at once so barbarous and so
civihsed that life in Bangkok is a series of
contradictions in terms. It is a patchwork
of native and borrowed customs; and the
borrowing, be it noted, has been done from
both more enlightened and less enlightened
nations. The Siamese have taken serfdom
from Cambodia, and blue-clothed policemen
from London. They go to bed by the electric
light and welcome the dawn with pagan
gongs. They consume the ices of Italy and
the opium of China. The Japanese rick-
shaw, the Indian ghany, and the EngHsh
omnibus ply together in the streets, and,
more rarely, the native buffalo cart mingles
with the traffic. Stately edifices of brick
rise near to wooden houses that can be de-
molished with' a hatchet ; and the presence
of a railway station does not exclude the
absence of a fire-brigade. The wealthy
divide their houses into two parts : into the
front part they put tables, chairs, pianos,
and pictures, and serve European foods ; in
the less accessible part they live as natives.
In brief, the Siamese, having plenty of time
on their hands, take what they please and
leave what they please in the banquet of
life. The bliss of ignorance and the benefits
of knowledge — both are theirs. And they
■are so happy in their selection, so satisfied
with a policy which looks like organised
caprice ! With railway whistles screeching
in their ears, and the arc light flashing
in their eyes, this incorrigible people believes
that the tides are caused by a great crab
emerging from his hole and then retreating
to it, and that the winds are the voices of
the babies who have departed this life.
Superstition regulates every notable act of
life ; marriage, justice, education, and civil
fimctions are accompanied by tissues of
flummery. And all this supernatural
element is the mere overflow from the temple
where the yeUow-robed priest flouts his own
rules and neglects even his white elephants.

St. Botolph, Aldgate : The Story of a City
Parish. By A. G. B. Atkinson, M.A.
(Grant Richards.)

Mr. Atkinsox is attached, as curate, to the
church of St. Botolph, Aldgate, and he is to
be thanked for this careful compilation of
the history of his parish. His book has not
much colour or vivacity ; and illustrations,
which would have been a compensation, are
lacking. But Mr. Atkinson has spared no
labour to amass and arrange his facts ; and
much of his information is based on the
record books and other original documents
of the parish. Nevertheless the most
interesting of Mr. Atkinson's chapters is the
least recondite. In it we are told the

precise terms on which Chaucer held the
house above Aldgate gate. We have glimpses
of old Houndsditch, which is said to owe its
name to the fact that the hounds belonging
to the City hunt were kept here in
the fifteenth century. The old clothes
element which still lingers in Petticoat-
lane was a feature of the street in the
seventeenth century. "Where got'st thou
this coat ? " says one of Ben Jonson's
characters; and the answer is, "Of a
Houndsditch man, sir, one of the devil's
near kinsmen." The original gate
was pulled down in 1606, and many
coins of Trajan and Diocletian were found
under it. The new gate was decorated
with figures of Love and Charity; and
again Ben Jonson supplies a curiously
vivid touch. In " The Silent Woman," Mr.
Atkinson points out, we have this speech :

" Many things that seem foul in the doing
do please, done. You see gilders will not
work but enclosed. How long did the canvas
hang before Aldgate ? Were the people suf-
fered to see the City's Love and Charity while
they were rude stone, before they were painted
and burnished '< "

It will be understood that most of Mr.
Atkinson's pages are occupied with the
history of the Church, its chantries, monu-
ments, and plate, and with extracts from the
vestry books. Space permits us only to
vouch for Mr. Atkinson's industry. We
note that he defends Defoe as being a
more accurate chronicler of the Plague than
it is the fashion to describe him. Defoe's
account of the ravages of the Plague in
Aldgate is supported by the registers of
burial and other records. St. Botolph's,
Aldgate, escaped the Fire narrowly. Six
shillings were " paid for carrying away the
pish books when ye fyre was in ye cittie."

The New England Country, and
A Book of Country, Clouds, and Sunshine.
By Clifton Johnson. (Kegan Paul.)

All who wish to know the character of New
England rural life may consult these prettily
printed and well-illustrated volumes. Mr.
Johnson loves New England, and has photo-
graphed most of it. He is steeped in its
history, and solicitous for its agricultural
future. Even at this distance we can
deplore, with Mr. Johnston, the desertion
of the villages, which he says has gone on
steadily for fifty years. Old homesteads
that might have vied with the one which
inspired Whittier's Snow-hound are left to
desultory tenants or actual decay. It is the
old story of the magnetism of great cities.

Two Thousand Miles of Wandering in the
Border Country, Lakeland, and Ribhlesdale.
By Edmund Bogg. (York: Sampson.)

Mr. Bogg, who is a member of the York-
shire Archroological Society and an enthusi-
astic pedestrian, has produced a gossippy
guide-book to the districts named above.
The book is much too large to be carried
about ; and, unfortunately, it is not very
beautiful on the table. Many of the sketches
are too poor for words ; and the ornamental
headings to the chapters are cheap and
inappropriate. But Mr. Bogg knows his
subject, and his book can be used with profit.

The Angler's Library : Pike and Perch. By
Alfred Jardine. (Laurence & Bullen.)

A THOROUGHLY practical handbook by an
expert in pike and perch fishing. Mr.
Jardine is pleasantly cynical about weights,
and seems to endorse Frank Buckland'a
dictum that from the days of Gesner down-
wards more lies have been told about the
pike than any other fish in the world.

The Every-Bay Book of Natural History:
Animals and Plants. By James CundtJL
Revised and part re-written by Edward
Step. (Jarrold & Sons.)
This book is not much to our taste. It
pleased people when it came from the late
Mr. Cundall's hands, many years ago. But
it is too old-fashioned, too indefinite.
Under the date May 17 we are invited to
consider the May Fly ; and we read : "It
would be well for those whose occupations
during the day are of a sedentary character
to snatch more frequent, even though brief,
respites from the cares," &c., &c. There
is too much of this kind of thing, and too
many merely pretty quotations from the
poets.

The Year's Music, i898. Edited by A. C.E.

Carter. (J. S. Virtue & Co.)
This publication has reached its third
annual issue, and has made good its claim
to be a useful book of reference. The
arrangement of the book is now put upon a
permanent and orderly basis. A survey
of the music of last year is followed by a
list of London musical institutions and
examining bodies with particulars as to
admission, scholarships, &c. ; this, by a
detailed review of the music of 1897,
classified as orchestral, chamber, choral,
ballad, &c., including Sunday concerts.
Grand and light opera receive separate
sections. An obituary and a directory of
vocalists are included.

The " Century Science " Series.— P<M<««r.

By Percy Frankland and Mrs. Percy

Frankland. (Cassell & Co.)
This is a well-written life of the great
bacteriologist. It is not generally knowi
that Louis Pasteur had a natural gift oi
drawing, and that his real career begar
with a deliberate abandonment of the brush
At the little town of Arbois they still shoii
clever portraits which young Pasteur paintec
in his youth. The stories of Pasteur's firs
enthusiasm for chemistry, his early re
searches into the phenomena of f ermentatioD
his brilliant pronouncements on the suhjec
of spontaneous generation, which he showec
to be " une chimere," his suggestions for th'
improvement of beer, and his studies o
infectious diseases preparatory to the grea
triumph of his life, are told clearly, m
even entertainingly, in this volumej^ No
wiU the reader who seeks information o:
the inner working of the Pasteur Insbtut
be disappointed. Here Pasteur becomes
majestic and touching figure, sleepless i
his search for truth. In the corndoi
where his quick, slightly shufiling ste
was heard, the footfalls of his disci^U
now echo round his marble tomb, bean"
the inscription: "Ici repose Pasteur.'

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, MARCH 5, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

Pakis.

Br Emile Zola,

This work, translated by Mr. E. A, Vizetelly, completes the
"Trilogy of the Three Cities." Here the adventures and ex-
periences of Abbe Pierre Froment are brought to a conclusion.
Not a guide-book to Paris, we are told : it paints the city's social
life, its rich and poor, its scandals and crimes, its work and its
pleasures. "And journalism," adds the translator, "Parisian
journalism, is flagellated, shown as it really is — if just a few weU-
conducted organs be excepted — that is, venal and impudent,
mendacious, and even filthy." (Chatto & Windus. 488 pp.)

Sunlight and Shadow.

By Fkancis Gkibble.

Mr. Gribble calls this a story of the stage life and the real life.
The heroine is Angela Clifton, who begins as a strolling player and
rises to fame, and one of the heroes is Hector Burgoyne, who does
likewise. There are other men prominent enough to be called
heroes too, but it is with Hector and Angela that the novel is
mainly concerned: their game of love at the outset, their separate
careers, and their reunion over the fact of love at the end. Stage
life and the acting temperament are examined, and now and then
one has hints of a portrait. (A. D. Innes. 341 pp. 6s.)

Woman and the Shadow.

By Arabella Kenealy.

Lady Kershaw takes, as a society pupil, MiUicent, the wealthy
daughter of a dealer in furniture polish. Millicent at once falls in
love with Major Kershaw, the son, while Major Kershaw, the son,
is in love with the Lady Alicia, who is a bad but beautiful lot.
Seeing that unless money is forthcoming Alicia will make trouble
for her husband, MiUicent arranges that her own income shall be
theirs, while she herself takes a situation as governess. Alicia
subseqiiently elopes with another, the major gets a divorce, and
after a decent interval MUlicent becomes his wife. (Hutchinson
& Co. 395 pp. 6s.)

A. Voyage of Consolation. By Saea Jeannette Duncan.

The voyage of consolation is a voyage to England undertaken by
Miss Mamie Wicks after the collapse of her engagement with Mr.
•Arthur Greenleaf Page. She telephones to "Poppa": "My
jmgagement to Mr. Page is broken. Do you get me? What
|lo you suggest ? " And Poppa coughs from New York to Chicago,
Imd says : "Go abroad. Always done. Paris, Venice, Florence,
liome, and the other places. I'U stand in." And Poppa, Momma,
jmd Mamie sail by the Germanic. We travel amusedly with them
through Europe, and are well prepared for the happy ending when
t comes. (Methuen. 318 pp. Gs.)

?HB Scoubge-Stick. By Mes. Campbell Pbaed.

This story is cast in the form of a woman's autobiography. She
xclaims: " Why should not I, Esther Zamiel, scribbler, write yet
nother book : my last book : my reaUest book : which shall be my
wn story ?" In the course of the first two pages the narrator calls
erself Esther Zamiel, Esther Vassal, and Esther Vrintz — but pro-
lises to explain this " triune personality." The story is that of a
'Oman passionately devoted to art in various forms. It is highly
motional, and quite unlike Mrs. Praed's former books. (William
jleinemann. 367 pp. 68.)

HB House of Mystery.

By Eiohard Maesh.

Mr. Marsh may be depended on for red-hot melodrama. The
■ontispiece of this story shows us two faultlessly dressed men in
id-air, falling in deadly grip of each other from a balcony. Being
dden to " see page 300," we referred to it in the hope that one of
e falling men would prove to be the cad who turns up in Mrs.

Griffiths's type-writing office in the first chapter ; but no. The book
roars with incident and flames with adjectives. (F. V. White & Co.
312 pp. 68.)

The Child who will neveb

Grow Old. By Kate Douglas King.

Eight stories of chUd-life, by the author of Father Hilarion. Miss
King has a power of pathos, and those that cry easily will cry much
over this book. Among Miss King's heroes is a naughty little boy
who writes : " I am glad I shall go to Hell when I die. I won't
go to Heaven because Aunt Adelaide is going there. Damm
Damm Damm Aunt Adelaide." Some of the stories appeared in
Merrie England. (John Lane. 215 pp. Ss.)

Wyndham's Daughter.

By Annie S. Swan.

A novel with a purpose. Let us quote the dedication and say
no more : " Dedicated to those among my young sisters who are
discontented with their lot, in the hope that the true record of Joyce
Wyndhain's experience may help them to take up with cheerfulness
the duty which lies nearest." (Hutchinson & Co. 371 pp. 68.)

The Prince's Diamond.

By Emeeic Hulme-Beaman.

This story is told in the first person, and the narrator — "I,
George Travers " — is a very perfect specimen of the "bounder."
Picking up a diamond ring in Hyde Park, Travers appropriates it
after three days' languid search through the Lost and Found columns
of the papers. His possession of this ring produces a tissue of inci-
dentsof a wildlj' improbable character; and the vulgar city clerk finds
himself whirled into society and taking a leading part in an intrigue
relating to the fugitive King of Borastria. (Hutchinson & Co.
366 pp. 6s.)

Hearts that are Lightest. By Monti de Gomara.

When, in the course of these ineffably silly sketches of the men
and women at the Hotel Belvedere, Mr. Gomara comes to the word
' ' hope ' ' he breaks off : "Oh, hope, sweet hope, what a blessing thou
art to mankind ! " When " sympathy " is mentioned : " Oh, sym-
pathy, thou blessed angel spirit," and so on for a couple of pages.
" Toil," says the author, " built the coral reefs and the Pyramids of
Egypt"; unfortunately it also produced this volume. (Digby,
Long & Co. 215 pp. 38. 6d.)

One Crowded Hour.

By a. Bebesford Eyley.

This is the story of a foolish boy-and-girl marriage kept secret
for some years. Meanwhile Chaddesley Corbet, having aw^ened to
his folly, meets a woman worthy of his intelligent love, while lona
likewise meets a man worthy of her shallowness. The final arrange-
ment between Chaddesley and Maude Ingleton mocks accepted
morality and pleads its own. A strong story, undoubtedly. (Bliss,
Sands & Co. 297 pp. 6s.)

Julia's Caprice,

By Lewis Sergeant.

Julia is unhappily — and doubtfully, as to legality — married to
the Earl of Walcheren. Meeting with a raw, generous boy, Arthur
Daubeny, she makes him fall madly in love with her, and the boy
is horsewhipped by the Earl. This is the beginning of a story as
episodical as Oil Bias. Julia and Daubeny meet later as theatrical
debutante and manager ; and again the Earl turns up, this time not
with a horsewhip, but with proof of the legality of his marriage.
A closely knit, not very elevating story. (Hurst & Blackett.
331 pp. 68.)
The Secret of a Hollow Tree. By Naunton Coveetsjde.

The author of this story says that its characters are portrayed
from life, including the eccentric and violent Squire Matthews, on
whose murder the "mystery" hangs. The desolate Welsh back-
grounds, and the introduction of Matskalla, "the wisest woman of

256

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[March 5, 1898.

the Eomani," as tlie leading agent in the discovery of the criminal,
give colour to the story, and the element of love is, of course, not
lacking. (Digby, Long & Co. 317 pp. 6s.)

The Disaster.

By Paul and Victor Maegderite.

This story is a daily narrative of the first part of the Franco-
German "War, and it is also largely a character-study of Marshal
Bazaine. But the translator, Mr. Frederic Lees, writes: "The
Marguerites have not given us a hook wholly devoted to military
matters. . . . The hero's love for Anine, besides many other
incidents and characters too numerous to mention, serve (!) to add
brightness to a picture which might otherwise have been gloomy
and monotonous." (Chatto «& Windus. 415 pp. 6s.)

True Blue ; on. The Lass that
Loved a Sailor.

By Herbert Eussell.

A sailor lad falls in love, goes to sea, and returns to claim his
" true blue " sweetheart : that is the story. " Tell me, Violet —
I may call you Violet, mayn't I ? — whether I may believe that you
cherish any feelings of affection towards me " : that is the style.
(Chatto & Windus. 269 pp. 3s. 6d.)

At the Sign of the Golden Horn.

By John'K. Leys.

An exciting story, of the popular serial type, of virtue and
villainy. The chapter headings are sufficient testimony : "Black
Treachery," "Eogues in Council," "Do you Know a Man with a
Scar on his Cheek ? " "A Terrible Suspicion," " Trapped ! " " The
Himchback," "Captain Winter Eeceives a Blow," "Three Tele-
grams." (George Newnes, Ltd. 287 pp. 3s. 6d.)

REVIEWS.

' Blood will flow like that,' he said. ' Would to the Lord I might be

there to draw the spigot wider ! '

' Ay,' cried Marcel. ' But, man, that was good wine ! '

' Ay,' answered back Jean Careault sourly. ' But, man, it will be

good blood ! '

The story follows the fortunes of Coligny aud the Protestants.
The hero was at the battle of Dreux, and subsequently became one
of the gallant company of gentlemen who crossed to Florida. The
voyage and its adventures are described with spirit. Among the
colonists was one Boisgrillet, a blusterer. Blaise de Bernauld was
of Navarre, the only Navarrese on board ; and one night in the
cabin hot words arose, and Boisgrillet spake thus :

" ' Then the more need to look to ourselves. Who says Navarrese says
Catholic ; and who says Catholic says traitor — -'

D'Annand swung round on his heel, and, with his palms on the edge
of the table, leined across to the other, bis handsome face white and set
in a mask of contempt.

' Who speaks ? ' he said : ' Burgundy or Boisgrillet ? The wine or the
man ? Be that as it may, the man must answer for it. Now, hear me.
Who says vapourer, blusterer, and bully says Boisgrillet ; and who says
BoisgriUet says liar. Is that plain enough. Monsieur Boisgrillet, cr do
you need this to clear your brain ? ' and before those by could catch bis
arm he had flung a splash of wine full into the other's face.

To do Boisgrillet justice he was no coward, and was ever ready enough
with his steel. A faint heart could have no place in a baud of Coligny's
choosing.

Before the wine had dripped from his beard to the table he was on his
feet with his hand gripping for his sword-hilt. But Dessaix and Mysult,
on either side of them, were as quick as he, and had their blades crossed
between the disputants."

The massacre of Coligny's gentlemen by Spaniards is the crowning
feature of the story. It is very grim, very absorbing, with fine
heroic touches. Mr. Drummond certainly understands the composi-
tion of the lion-hearted. Altogether a very excellent book.

For the Religion. By Hamilton Drummond.
(Smith, Elder & Co.)

We have three small bones (as people say) to pick with Mr.
Drummond. Firstly, the title. Why, in the name of all that is
brisk and ardent and romantic, should he call a story of courage
and adventure, rapier thrusts and hard riding, love and battle, by
so forbidding a name ? True that Coligny's attempt to save his
fellow Huguenots by shipping them to Florida is tlie theme ; but
there are a hundred more alluring ways of entitling such a history
than For the Religion. If the book were not a good one, we should
care nothing whether it had a repellent name or not ; but it is most
readable. Secondly, we object to the author's method of beginning
his story. His first chapter is bravely headed : " Why Marcel rode
post from Paris " ; and we read it to discover why, and behold it is
sheer prologue, and the romance proper is dated fifty and more years
earlier. Thirdly, the person— Blaise de Bernauld— whom Mr.
Drummond has chosen for his mouthpiece is eighty years of age,
and we are prejudiced against narrators so advanced in life. As it
turns out, this octogenarian can tell a story as well as the youngest ;
but at the outset the reader is doubtful and afraid. Such is the
press of romantic fiction now in circulation that an author who
offers three such stumbling-blocks as Mr. Drummond does— the
title, the false start, and tlie antiquity of the hero— is in danger of
not being read at all. Hence our protests.

But the persevering reader will be rewarded. We have no
hesitation m awarding For the Religion a place in the first rank of
the historical novels of the day. It has blood, it has movement ;
the men are real ; and the style has clarity, gravity. This scene
coming early in the book, gives the note : '

" ' See you,' said Jean Carsault, 'the Adnural has the iniquities of

^?^'\J^„*''''^?®*"'^.1^.®''?^"^"^°°* '*» ^""""ice to save. What think
ye ? WiU not he and his fight ? Guise has the King to win, the Queen
to conquer, Cohgny to humble, and power to gain. Will not he and Hs
fight ? Truly, yes.

Up from the table he lifted Marcel's goblet of Burgundy, and flung
lU liquor m a huge red splash on the floor, so that rivulets aud veiiS
ran hither and thither until the sand swallowed them up.

The Fight for the Crown. By W. E. Norris.
(Seeley & Co.)

The case of Mr. Norris is a sad one of degeneration complicated by
success. Several years ago he used to turn out sound and amusing
novels. We recoUect that an enthusiastic critic called him " a
second Thackeray," and we ourselves read My Friend ■Jim twice
with pleasure. And now we close with a sigh The Fig'4 for ih
Crown, in which plot and matter are thin to transparency and
padding is liberal to prodigality, and we fail to find any excuse for
the triviality of it all. Mr. Norris's danger always lay on the side
of verbiage and the elaboration of petty detail : lie has become
almost laughable in his solemn mistaking of molehills for mountains.
The plot, such as it is, is coldly furnished forth by the realities
which long ago crowded the daily newspapers. There is no
humour, little character-drawing, and less action. For these we
are offered the drawing-room politics of the eighties, the empty
babble of titled folk, and an intolerable deal of explanation. An
undeniable gift for social satire has sunk to this :

" Lady Virginia Lethbridge'was wont to speak in somewhat oppro-
brious terms of hunting and shooting men. Not, she would explain,
that there was anything to be said against them during close time ; on
the contrary, they were then, taking them all round, perhaps the best
class of man in existence. But while engaged in their favourite pursuits
they ceased, according to her, to be of the shghtest use for social
purposes. Their conversation resolved itself into endless recitals of their
own performances, which were frequently mendacious and always un-
interesting ; they were apt to drop asleep immediately after dinner, and
became, generally, such unconscionable bores that there was no living in
the house with them."

The story begins upon the steps of a club " at " — should it not be
"in " ? — Dublin, sliifts to the house of an oppressed landlord ili Co.
Kerry, jumps to Lady Virginia Lethbridge's house in London, and
there, in more senses than one, it sticks. The Irish landlord has a
beautiful daughter, who goes on the stage, and is run after by a fast
nobleman, and a virtuous but lukewarm Home Euler. The young
lady accepts indifferent morals and the politics dear to Mr. Norris,
and the Home Euler swallows his annoyance and marries someone
else. The whole proceeding is spun out to nearly four hundred
pages.

Makch 5, 1898.]

THE ACADE^IY SUPPLEMENT.

zo7

Entombed in Flesh. By Michael Henry Dziewicki.
(Blackwood.)

The notion of this book seems to us an original one. Lucifer
proposes a wager to Phantasto, a free Intelligence, servant neither
to God nor to Lucifer himself. Lucifer intends to tempt a pure
maiden soul to sin : he suggests that Phantasto should incarnate
himself in a mortal body, and do his best to save her. A fortnight
the struggle shall endure. If Phantasto fails, he is to remain
enslaved on earth so long as Lucifer chooses. Phantasto agrees,
and enters the body of an exposed medium, just dead from
humiliation. He fails in saving the maiden, who, indeed, falls in
love with him, and offers to become his mistress. Then follows
a campaign to force Lucifer to surrender his bargain. This is
finally accomplished by the eloquent preaching of that Christianity
which Phantasto has by his own will excluded himself from, and
the released Intelligence escapes to his own sphere, leaving the
hideous corpse of the medium behind.

It is a good idea, but Mr. Dziewicki does not carry it out. At
the psychology of the thing, the curious blend of human and super-
natural in the mental workings of the incarnate Phantasto, he has
worked thoughtfully and ingeniously : he almost makes it appear
plausible ; but he has not the power of clothing his conceptions in,
what are after all necessary to a novel, appropriate words. He
I writes English as if he had learnt to do so, and perhaps we are
ijustified in inferring from his patronymic that this is actually the
'case. Phantasto's great lecture on Christianity is thus described :

I " It was a grand lecture — such a lecture as no one had expected, as no
'one had ever heard before, or was likely to hear again but from the same
lips. CoiUd it even be called a lecture ? — in very truth it was an oration.
Its eloquence and pathos melted the hardest hearts and brought tears to
;the driest eyes. No one could resist it. There were passages of high
ipoetry ; there were coruscations of magnificent anger ; there were even
kt times, to relieve the tension, sparkles of humour and beams of wit.
iAnd then once more the torrent would pour forth, sweeping all before it,
jimtil the hearers bowed their heads, ashamed to think how little they
jtiad hitherto understood what Christ was, what their Christianity
ought to be."

[Description as well as lecture is presumably meant to be eloquent,
tout the fervour fails to translate itself ; it leaves ua unmoved.

ANTHOLOGIES IN LITTLE.

II. — ^EOBEBT HeEEICK.

lhe life of Eobert Herrick is a budget of paradoxes. The most
)agan of English singers, he was yet a parson, and not in name
merely : for, though he put off his cassock during the Common-
wealth, in verse at least he has frequently enough his devout
:Qood. He will sing not alone of " May-poles, hoek-carts, wassails,
Ipakes," and of "bridegrooms, brides," and "cleanly wantonness,"
liut also " of heaven, and hope to have it after all." Nor is Her-
jick's religious Muse to be looked at askance even in a century that
{new Donne and Crashaw, Herbert and Vaughan. Again, he whom
be think of most readQy as a pastoral poet in reality hated the
jountry. His home was always " loatlied Devonshire " to him, and
it any moment he glarUy turned from curds and junkets to re-visit
is beloved London and to toy with the " silken bodice " or
tempestuous petticoat " of some courtly and perfumed Julia,
'he fact is, that the pastoral note inserted itseK into the song
if Herrick almost by accident. Essentially, as beseemed a scholar
jnd a wit, he modelled himself on the classics. Some of his
ipigrams came from Martial, and flowers were for him less things
It delight than subjects for neat myths of metamorphosis, after
lie manner of Ovid. But he was overflowing with song, had
le " importunate lyric opulence " more than any Englishman of
is day, perhaps more than any Englishman before or since ; and
hen more pleasing themes fell short, his sunny, genial temper
[irummed into music the life around him. But not with an eye
l3ry persistently on the object. Eeminiscences of Eoman country
[te mingle irresistibly with his English revels; and, like Mr.
jipling, the vicar of Dean Prior talks of " cowslips in your
fevon combes," forgetting that cowslips have never been a Devon-
lire flower.
London was in his heart and in his blood. His father was a gold-

smith in Cheapside. Eobert seems to have been at Westminster
School, and to have passed thence to St. John's College at
Cambridge. Afterwards he lived on his wits in London and sought
the patronage of the great. Charles the First gave him a little
living at Dean Prior in Devonshire, and Herrick wrote a " Fare-
well unto Poetrie " and also a " Farewell unto Sack." Both poetry
and sack, however, remained dear to him through life. He passed,
you may be sure, pretty idle clerical days with his elderly servant.
Prudence Baldwin, preaching perhaps when the fit took him, more
often writing epigrams on his parishioners, or composing dainty
verses upon the charms of his many, and probably imaginary, mis-
tresses. His ejection under the Commonwealth was doubtless
inevitable, and he took it with a light heart ; seeking in the garb
of a layman whatever fun the godly had left in London. He
remained unmarried, printed the " Hesperides," and returned to Dean
Prior at the Eestoration, to die in the odour of sanctity a dozen
years later :

"To THE ViEGINS, TO MaKE MUCH OP TlME.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may :

Old Tune is still a-fl3dng,
And this same flower that smiles to-day

To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,

The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run.

And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer ;

But, being spent, the worse, and worst
Times will succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And whUe ye may, go marry :
For, having lost but once your prime,

You may for ever tarry."

"To Meadows.

Te have been fresh and green,

Ye have been fill'd with flowers.
And ye the walks have been

Where maids have spent their hours.

You have beheld how they

With wicker arks did come
To kiss and bear away

The richer cowslips home.

You've heard them sweetly sing.

And seen them in a round :
Each virgin Uke a spring,

With honeysuckles crown'd.

But now we see none here

Whose silvery feet did tread,
And with dishevell'd hair

Adorn'd this smoother mead.

Like imthrif ts, having spent

Your stock and needy grown,
Y'are left here to lament

Your poor estates, alone."

"To Dafi'ODIls.

Fair daffodils, we weep to see

You baste away so soon :
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.
Stay, stay.
Until the hasting day

Has run
But to the evensong,
And, having prayed together, we

Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay as you,

We have as short a spring,
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry

Away,
Like to the summer's rain.
Or as the pearls of morning's dew.
Ne'er to be found again."

258

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Makch 5, 1898.

" The Mad Maid's Song.

Good-morrow to the day so fair,

Good-moming, sir, to you ;
Good-morrow to mine own torn hair,

Bedabbled with the dew.

Good-morning to this primrose too,

Good-morrow to each maid
That will with flowers the tomb bestrew

Wherein my love is laid.

Ah ! woe is me, woe, woe is me !

Alack and weU-a-day !
For pity, sir, find out that bee

Which bore my love away.

I'll seek him in your bonnet brave,

I'll seek him in your eyes ;
Nay, now I think they've made his gi-ave

I' th' bed of strawberries.

I'll seek him there : I know ere this^
The cold, cold earth doth shake him,

But I will go, or send a kiss
By you, sir, to awake him.

Pray, hurt him not, though he be dead !

He knows well who do love him,
And who with green turfs rear his head,

And who do rudely move him.

He's soft and tender (pray take heed).

With bands of cowslips bind him.
And bring him home ! But 'tis decreed

That I shall never find him."

" The Night Piece : To Julia.

Her f-yes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee,

And the elves also.

Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee !

No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake nor slow- worm bite thee ;

But on, on thy way

Not making a stay.
Since ghost there's none to affright thee !

Let not the dark thee cumber :

What though the moon does slumber ?

The stars of the night

Will lend thee their Ught,
Like tapers clear without number.

Then, Julia, let me woo thee.
Thus, thus to come unto me !

And when I shall meet

Thy silv'ry feet.
My soul I'U pour into thee."

" To Electra.

I dare not ask a kiss,

I dare not beg a smile,
Lest, having that or this,

Fmight grow proud the while.

No, no, the utmost share

Of my desire shall be
Onlv to kiss that air

That lately kissed thee."

ME. GEOEGE GISSING AT HOME.

A writer in the American Book-Buyer furnishes some very in-
teresting, if not altogether unfamiliar facts, respecting the career
of Mr. George Gissing, a novelist who is now rapidly " coming to
his own."

Gassing's life story (says the Boole-Buyer) is as dreary and
merciless as some of the incidents in his stories. He is a York-

shireman, having been bom in Wakefield thirty-nine years ago.
His father was a man of learning and sound business sense, and
held many important county offices. He died in 1870, leaving
young Gissing, but thirteen years old, alone in the world. He
received the ordinary education of the middle-class English boy,
stopping short of the university. He early evinced an aptitude for
languages, mastering Greek, Latin, Spanish, German, and Italian ;
the last three he speaks and writes fluently. He spent a year
among the peasants of Italy, and he smiles at the suggestion of
Continental travelling being expensive.

He commenced life as a teacher in a private school ; but, being
endowed with a plethora of nerves and a paucity of patience, he
made but little success. He kept at it, however, for two years,
when, in desperation, he gave up the struggle and " packed his
grip " for London, with a few guineas in pocket. It was the old
instance of the frying-pan and the fire over again. He aimed at
some more hopeful career than teaching, and resolved to take up
literature.

His life in London was a long, heart- grinding fight against
poverty. Eor more than two years he did not know from what
quarter the next meal was coming. He could not support himself
by literature alone, and was compelled at times to act as a private
tutor. He destroyed quantities of MS. in the strenuous struggle
for style. Disappointments were many ; but he felt that he had
the proper material in him, could he but give expression to it.
Living in the cheapest quarter of London, his outlook on life was
one of gloom. His own life and that about him furnished endless
themes for stories.

After enumerating Mr. Gissing's novels, and indicating their
inspiration, the writer continues : " London furnishes Mr. Gissing
with material, but the novelist himself lives at Epsom, twelve miles
from the metropolis whose heart he has probed so relentlessly. He
lives in a small house, and his workshop is the tiniest room
imaginable, plainly furnished, with a few books. ' It amuses me,'
he has said, ' whenever I see illustrated in a magazine the
studies of well-known authors — many of them my friends.
Unto that I shall never attain. I shall die as I have lived — a
Bohemian.'

His life is one of seclusion. He has no part in ordinary social
affairs. He does not desire it. In precarious health, he is a
hard worker, and turns out a tremendous amount of ' copy ' each
year. Once a week he goes to London, where he rambles about the
lower districts in search of characters and incidents. His sole
amusement is an occasional visit to the British Museum. At
present he is hard at work on a new novel of London life, of life
among the middle classes, the life he knows so weU, which he
portrays so graphically, but without the faintest touch of the
poetic imagination, without which no book can live. He
is also working on some sketches for the magazines, and has
tried his hand at biography. Mr. Gissing ought to succeed
in this form of literary work ; for he has positive genius for
marshalling facts and seizing the vital and essential. But he looks
upon such work as mere recreation. His heart is in his novels,
and he strives seriously and with a purpose. He believes implicitly
that his bitter, unpalatable message wiU bear sweet fruit in the
regeneration of the lower classes of society. He does not preach
reform, he suggests no remedy ; but he paints in raw pigments
a picture of pain and patience, and a selfish, sordid, coward world
that complains and cries and shirks its burdens. To his credit be
it said that he never complained of his own task, self-imposed, nor
questioned the reward, more concerned with his work that it be
honest than with another man's estimate of it."

"I have only one rule to work by," he said one day, after a
conversation on the methods of literary production : "it is simply
to write of what I know best. This principle is vital, the life of
literature. If my stories are pessimistic, it is only because my life
is such. My environments were sordid, the people were sordid, and
my work is but a reflection of it all. Sadness ? My books arfl fuU
of it. The world is full of it. Show me the masterpieces of art,
literature, or music, and I shall show you creations palpitating with
sadness. Ah, the toU for the ' weib und kind,' how it fashions
men's lives ! Mine has been but the common lot. No use saying
much about it. I find my little happiness in the fields in sumnier,
and am content when I think of the toUing millions, twelve miles
away, who never see a blue sky, or feel the earth yield beneatli
their feet."

•March 6, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

269

SATURDAY, MARCH 5, 1898.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

IN a little shilling volume bound in hedge-
sparrow blue are to be found those of Mr.
Alfred Austin's Songs of England which he
sonsiders most expressive of the best variety
■A patriotism. The collection is dedicated
:o Lord Wolseley. By " England," says
■he Laureate, in his brief preface, " for
ivhich no other appellation equally compre-
lensive and convenient has yet been dis-
;overed, it is intended to indicate not only
jreat Britain and Ireland, but Canada,
V.ustralia, South Africa, India, and every
ipot of earth where men feel an instantaneous
hrill of imperial kinship at the very sound
jf the Name that lends its title to the
pening poem in the present volume."

To the reader who wishes to be glowingly
;imulated, Mr. Austin's lyrics and sonnets
re not, perhaps, to be recommended; but
>r those who like quiet and gentlemanly
Jtriotism, not dissimilar from that of a
llage rector on Trafalgar Day, allied to a
easant felicity of rhyme, the little book
lould be adequate and refreshing. But we
ink it amusing that the collection should
ive been prepared by its author at
orence.

JMr. J. Y. W. MacAuster has made the
jllowing interesting statement : " I venture
1| think that many of your readers will be
^^id to learn that Mr. Clemens (Mark
jTain) has already achieved the task he
«■ himself and discharged the load of debt
yich the unfortunate collapse of the firm
f| Messrs. Charles L. Webster & Co. placed
Uon his shoulders, or rather I should say
Mtich he took upon his shoulders. His
l^al representative has recently addressed
tj! following letter to the Publishers' Weekly,
^w"¥ork: ' February 7, 1898. Dear Sirs,—
-*|. Clemens has placed in my hands the

necessary funds and has instructed me to
pay you the balance of your claim against
the late firm of C. L. Webster & Company
at the time of its failure. . . . — Yours
truly, K. I. Harrison.' " Mr. MacAlister
adds that, with the exception of the historical
case of Sir Walter Scott, he does not think
there is to be found in the records of
literature anything quite equal to Mark
Twain's'conduct in insisting upon taking on
himself the debts of the company when he
might under limited liability provisions have
left the creditors to satisfy themselves with
a mere dividend.

poses, may be even more satisfactory than
theirs." »

Mark Twain has told us that his favourite
motto is — " Be good, and you will be lone-
some." He must be very lonesome now.

Mark Twain's success in carrying out the
great project to which he dedicated himself
on the failure of his business will be matter
for satisfaction to all liis very numerous
friends. He has worked hard to amass the
necessary funds, and has done so single-
handed, and we are proud to congratulate
him on a noble achievement. It will be
remembered that early last year, when sick
at heart and in poor health, Mark Twain
accepted the offer of a public subscription
which was made by a New York paper.
But in the course of a few days that accept-
ance was revoked, and he determined that
not from without but from within should
the debt be paid. Honour be to him for
such a decision.

The two books of Mr. Watts-Dunton
which are placed to his credit in Who's Who
both bear the date 1897. Considering that
Mr. Watts-Dunton was born in 1836, and
that these are times when every one rushes
into print, this is a considerable achievement.
But once having joined the vulgar pub-
lishing throng, Mr. Watts-Dunton seems to
be steadily on the downward path. Two
more books of his are now foreshadowed :
a collection of his reviews and the romance
Aylwin, which has been in tyjie for more
than twenty years. Whispers of the story
have been echoing in literary circles for
longer than most of us can remember.
Now we are to have the book itself. If
good wine improves by keeping, why not
Aylwin ?

In the current number of Cosmopolis will
be found a poem on the French Eevolution,
by Mr. Meredith, which we can recommend
to any one in need of hard reading.

At this point it is interesting again to
read the letter which Mark Twain wrote
concerning his intentions towards the firm's
creditors soon after he had begun his lecture
tour :

" It has been reported that I sacrificed, for
the benefit of the creditors, the property of the
publishing firm whose financial backer I was,
and that I am now lecturing for my own
benefit. This is an error. I intend the lectures,
as well as the property, for the creditors. The
law recognises no mortgage on a man's brain ;
and a merchant, who has given up all he has,
may take advantage of the laws of insolvency
and start free again for himself. But I am not
a business man, and honour is a harder master
than the law. It cannot compromise for less
than a hundred cents on the dollar, and its
debts never outlaw. I had a two-thirds interest
in the publishing firm, whose capital I fur-
nished. If the firm had prospered I should
have expected to collect two-thirds of the
profits. As it is, I expect to pay all the debts.
My partner has no resources, and I do not look
for assistance from him. By far the largest
single creditor of this firm is my wife, whose
contributions in cash, from her private means,
have nearly equalled the claims of all the others
combined. She has taken nothing. On the
contrary, she has helped, and intends to help,
me to satisfy the obligations due to the rest.
It is my intention to ask my creditors to accept
that as a legal discharge, and trust to my
honour to pay the other 50 per cent, as fast as
I can earn it. From my reception thus far on
my lecturing tour, I am confident that if I live
I can pay off the last debt within iowi years,
after which, at the age of sixty-four, I can
make a fresh and unencumbered start in life.
I am going to Austraha, India, and South
Africa, and next year I hope to make a tour of
the great cities of the United States. I meant,
when I began, to give my creditors all the
benefit of this, but I begin to feel that I am

faining something from it too, and that my
ividends, if not available for banking pux-

An American gentleman who is dis-
satisfied with Mr. Kipling's " Eecessional "
has re-written it : which is, we suppose, a
logical enough proceeding. The poem is
printed in a Boston paper with an intro-
duction recommending it, but stating that
it is not yet quite perfect : " For example,
the ear is still shocked by the rhyming of
' dies ' and ' sacrifice,' of ' loose ' and ' use.'
Then, too, the absurd contradiction is per-
mitted to stand in the lines :

' Judge of the nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget — lest we forget.'

On the other hand, the poem gains strength
by the avoidance of the double ' lest we
forget ' at the end of each verse and by the
splendid terseness of the last line, as well as
by the slight verbal corrections and by the
omission of the pretentious ' Amen ' at the
close."

are the two
' Eecessional "

first stanzas of the

Here
revised

" God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle-line.
Beneath whose awful hand we hold

Dominion over palm and pine —
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet.
Lest we forget !

The echo of the tumult dies ;

The captains and the kings depart ;
Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice,

An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget ! "

Impudence could no further go.

An action was recently brought by the
University of Cambridge against Messrs.
Blackie & Sons for infringement of copyright
in respect of editions of Pope's Essay on
Criticism and Milton's L'Allegro and 11
Penseroso and Lycidas, edited by the Eev.
Dr. Evans and published by Messrs. Blackie
& Sons, which were considered by the

260

THE ACADEMY.

[March 5, 1898.

Syndics of the Cambridge University Press
to infringe their copyright in editions of the
same poems published in the Pitt Press Series
and ^ited by Mr. A. 8. West and Mr
A W Verity. The action has been setUert
by the withdrawal of the books objected to
and the payment by Messrs. Blackie & Sons
of the plaintiffs' costs ; the plaintiffs waiving
any claim to damages.

Messes. Patrick Geddes & Colleaotos
will publish immediately a summary ot the
Dre4is affair fi-om the trial of Dreyfus to
that of Zola. The brochure has been pre-
pared by a French writer who is intimately
acquainted with the whole subject, and
whose impartiaUty and good faith are
vouched for in a preface by Prof. Geddes.

Meanwhile Mr. John Lane has been
even more enterprising ; and before us lies
a little crimson shilling volume, entiUed
Zola's Letters to France. It is the merest
brochure— but forty-five pages— yet most
persons who have followed the trial will be
glad to possess it ; for herein is the germ of
the whole indictment of the novelist. Mr.
Lane gives us the four letters— to the Youth
of France, to France, to M. Felix Faure,
and the Minister of War. Two of the
translations are those which were made for
the Jetvish Chronicle, two are new, and Mr.
L. F. Austin provides a preface.

Here is a fine passage from the " Letter
to the Youth of France "

"Ob, young men, young men! remember, I
entreat, the great work which awaits you. You
are the workmen of the future ; it is you who
will determine the character of the twentieth
century; it is you who, we earnestly hope,
will solve the problems of truth and equity that
the dying century propounds. We, the old,
the elder men, hand on to you the formidable
results of our investigations, many contradic-
tions, much, perhaps, which is obscure, but
certainly the most strenuous effort which ever
century made to reach the Ught, the most
faithful and solidly based documents, and the
very foundations of the vast edifice of Science,
which you must continue to build up for your
own honour and happiness. All we ask of you
is to be more generous, more emancipated of
mind than were we ; to leave us behind in youij
love of a wholesome life, in your ardour for
work, in the fecundity through which man and
the earth will produce at length an overflowing
harvest of joy beneath the glorious sunshine.
And we thould make way for you, fraternally,
glad to go and take our rest after the day's toil
in the sound sleep of death, if we knew that
you would carry on our work and realise our
dreams."

Run day and night, athirst to measure forth
Its pure sweet waters, health and wealth and

Power clad in arms, and wisdom argus-eyed;
But One apart from all is seen to stand,
And take up in the hollow of his hand
What to their golden vessels is denied.
Baffling their utmost reach. He, born and

nursed
In the glad sound and freshness of the place,
Druiks momently its dews, and feels no thirst;
And sorrows for that troop as it returns
Thro' the waste wilderness with empty arms. ' "

An erroneous impression is abroad that
Mr. W. E. Henley is the editor of The
Outlook. Mr. Henley, whose health has not
been good lately, retired from the New
Review on account chiefly of the pressure of
other literary work. The editor of The
Outlook is Mr. Percy A. Hurd.

The representations of the " Antigone "
of Sophocles, in the open-air Greek Theatre
at Bradfield CoUege, Berks, will take place
this year, the usual interval of three years
having elapsed since the production of the
" Alcestis" of Euripides. The two plays
named , with the " Agamemnon ' ' of iEschylus,
are played as a series— #.^., the "Aga-
memnon" in 1892; the "Alcestis" m 1895;
the "Antigone" in 1898. The auditorium
has been much enlarged, and will now hold
more than 2,000 people. All the conditions
of the Attic drama will be reproduced, in-
cluding the ancient Greek music and the
ancient instruments (masks alone being ex-
cluded). The dates fixed are: Monday,
June 20 ; Thursday, June 23 ; Saturday,
June 25.

The late Lord Tennyson's elder brother,
Mr. Frederick Tennyson, whose death this
week we regret to have to record, was a
poet in a true but limited sense, and a
poet for whose work Lord Tennyson seems
to have had a more than merely brotherly
admiration. In the present Lord Tennyson's
memoir of his father we read :

' ' My father said of Frederick's poems that
' they were organ-tones echoing among the
mountains,' and quoted a fine sonnet of his :

' Poetic Happinbss.

There is a fountain, to whose flowery side
By diverse ways the children of the earth

Mr. F. E. Benson's special revival at
Stratford-on-Avon during the Shakespearian
Memorial Performances this year will be
" Antony and Cleopatra," five performances
of which will be given, three on the even-
ings of April 14, 15, and 18 ; and two on
Shakespeare's birthday, April 23.

Dr. Martineatj, who was a schoolfellow
of George Borrow in Norwich, has been
sending some recollections of the author of
Zavengro to a contributor of the Eastern
1 Daily Press. He ^vrites : " Borrow used to
gather about him three or four favourite
schoolfellows, and with a sheet of paper and
book on his knee invent and tell a story,
making rapid little pictures of each dramatis
persona that came upon the stage. The plot
was woven and spread out with much in-
genuity, and the characters were various
and well discriminated. But two of them
were sure to turn up in every tale — the
Devil and the Pope— and the working of
the drama invariably had the same issue,
the utter ruin and disgrace of these two
potentates. I have often thought that there
was a presage here of the mission which pro-
duced The Bible in Spain." It is to be
hoped that Prof. Knapp, Borrow's bio-
grapher, has had access to Dr. Martinoau's
memory.

The fashion of writing ballades and
rondeaux, although it is in disfavour in
London, still persists at the Universities.
From the "Ballade of the Mutability of

Human Affairs," in the Granta, we take the
first stanza :

" Wild briar's a blossom that fades,
(Like litmus with strong alkalies) ;
And the love of terrestrial maids

Is tender — too tender — to prize,
In a minute it droops and it dies,

And happiness spills at the brink ;
Love opens the window and flies —
But Smith's is a permanent Ink."

There is no reason why these old French
forms should have become impopular. For
the light, occasional poet the ballade is as
suitable as to the serious one is the sonnet.
Yet the sonnet perseveres while the ballade,
the rondeau, the roundel, the triolet, and the
villanelle are discredited. As a matter of
fact, the ballade should be encouraged, since
by sheer necessity of rhyme the poet is
compelled to say something, which other-
wise he might not do.

Mrs. Craigie has been engaged for some
time on an historical romance, the subject
of which is the story of Loerine and Owen-
dolene. It will probably appear first as a
serial in Warper's Magazine.

Last year was published for private circu-
lation a collection of extracts from the
journals of the late William Cory, the author
of lonica. It was a wise book, better
worth the attention of the reading public
than hundreds of volimies that have wide
popularity. Now 'comes from Mr. Frowde,
of the Clarendon' Press, a pamplilet con-
sisting of Hints to Eton Masters, also printed
from one of Mr. Cory's journals, dated 1862.
The little book might well find its way
into the hands of schoolmasters generally,
for it is rich in good sense most admirably
expressed. Here are a few passages ;

' ' If you wish your pupils to become acquainted
with the existence of old books, like Cowper's
poems, BoBwell, Faerie Qiieene, or the like, take
the book out of your shelves, and leave it on the
table carelessly when the boys come to ' private
business.' Some of them are sure to look at it,
turn over the pages, and get a notion of ite
character ; and you can very easily reclaim their
attention. Remember what emiui you guffered
yourself in those years, and take pity on the
scholarhke lad, who, having learnt his Thucy-
dides, has to sit stiU for au hour, to be bored by
the fumbling and croaking of a weak brother,

"In reading Horace I take care that boys
hear how Pope and Byron imitated him.

I like to quote passages written by disinter-
ested people, not Uving, on the classics, wbicn
attest their admiration of Sophocles, Virgil, or
Tacitus. , .

I Uke to say of a passage in Virgd : 1 ms was
quoted by Chatham, Pitt, or Peel,' as the case
may be. Then I come down to the 'mois
earth,' by asking some one for the date oi
Chatham, Pitt, or Peel. ,

Much of this is meant in pure benevolence, w
deUver the poor lads from the wearmess of weu
dead language lessons. I am quite aware tnat.
if they came into school to read Othello, or J™
Jones, or Southey's Life of Nehon, they wouic
be equaUy bored when the novelty was over. >
do not wish to throw over the mimortaw a
Greece and Rome, but to deck their unageswiw
fresh wreaths made in other gardens.

In these days of wide-awake bookseUer
and "Prices Current" it is not often tna

March 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

261

book bought for a shilling can be sold
ir eighteen sovereigns. This occurred,
jwever, in the case of a copy of Shelley's
rivately printed edition of Queen Mah,
ihich was bought the other day from a
)or widow for a shilling, and has realised
[18 in London.

I A COPY of the second issue of The Literary
fear Book reaches us from Mr. George
Hen. The editor for 1898 is Mr. Joseph
ucobs, Mr. Aflalo having too much to do
i connexion with the Enctjclopmlia of Sport —
'aich seems a sufficient reason. The best
p can say of the book is that it is a shade
kter than last year ; but it is still a very
\'ak production. And such a work, to justify
^1 existence, must be decisive, authoritative.

iThis, for example, is not the kind of
satence required in the editorial summary
[; the year's literature : " Lochinvar must
Bike the publishers who signed contracts
qtli Mr. Crockett up to 1904 feel inclined
b whistle for their money." And, again,
i)ne cannot say that either [7'/^« Spoils of
hjnton and What Maisie Knetv^ reach
tb height of Princess Casamassima." Again,
'l^ifeither Mr. G. S. Street nor Mr. Barry
[in can be called altogether new men."
Je driver of fat oxen need not be himself
but we expect the editor of a Literary
ir Book to write grammar.

[hen it is wrong, for instance, to say

Mr. Coulson Kemahan : " He has

ed as a sort of arbiter elegantiaruni,

kind of M.C. to the lighter muse,

M.aborating with the late Mr. Locker

Linpson in producing an Anthology of

Vrs de Socieie." As a matter of fact, the

:fil work of " production " was accomplished

me than a score of years before the arrival

qVlr. Kemahan at Rowfant. Again, Mr.

Mrrison wrote I7te Child of the Jaffa • but

1^9 he is credited with the Child of the

I, which suggests a sequel to " Othello"

Mr. Benjamin Swift appears as Mr.

jamin Smith. These are, perhaps, trivial

takes, but they go to prove that the

3dk wants thorough overhauling and re-

jlming. As it stands it is neither one

•h g nor the other.

1 ow and then we receive a book which
ivocan only label eccentric. 'Such a book
6\he Leading Aisles. It bears no author's
laje, but is full of its author's personality.
ri| preface takes the form of a letter from
shj author to the publisher, by which it
ipears that the former is a disciple of
riimas Carlyle. "Nothing," he says, " has
!0)e since that one immense deliverance of
fail, nothing but the usual negative re-
:uence of journalistic periodicity." To
prjlaim anew Carlyle's clothes philosophy
se^is to be the author's object. As for his
msner of doing it :

■jrhe method employed is that of organic
?r(!rth, the form u«ed is that of metaphor, for
nSphor seemed the best of the three ways,
BBiphor, parable, allegory, to make the things
ivkjli are unseen, through the seen, seen."
VVdiave tried vory hard to see the unseen
ihi^agh the seen pages of this book, but in
rail

The most we can discover is that the
author goes to Florence, Rome, Greece, and
St. Andrews, and rhapsodises or declaims in
a Carlylean patois. St. Andrews, its uni-
versitj', and its golf links are sketched in
several chaotic pages. At a "Wednesday
" at home " we read :

_ " The professors, one by one, come in ; first
him, high - shouldered son of mountainous
•AjgyU, and sniffling, wonders how much Greek
among these clods is spread ; then ' Jovial Jim '
appears, shakes hands, proceeds to intersect a
pink sponge sandwich, and hand round the tea.
' Andy ' is not here ; the unknown still has way
with him, the known too well. Here comes at
last the literateur, no mere professor he, and
sits him centre in a couch admiring dames close
murmuring around. A buzz of chatter and
then songs ; soon huntf rs of the Fifeshire hounds
arrive; their meet is done. The shining-faced
and easy-mannered throng dispels the student
swarm, who seek their hats and sticks, and
home. Tea-pots await them in their street-
side bunks, and scones and ginger-bread, the
horsehair-covered fireside chair, a pot of good
tobacco, and the pipe, ready for use, among the
books upon the chiffonier or whatnot wonder of
veneer, varnish, and glue."

If this is metaphor we fail to imderstand it ;
if it is d escription we cannot admire it. But in
neither case do we blush for our "negative
recurrence of journalistic periodicity."

The humorous paper with which New
York was to have been tickled — VEnfant
Terrible — is not, it seems, to be, after all.

Lewis Caekoll is prominent in the new
Cornhill. One reference, made by the
gentleman who supplies "Pages from a
Private Diary," bears upon Lewis Carroll's
objection to be addressed by his proper
name, and runs as follows : " I once com-
mitted the indiscretion of confounding the
humorist with the don, and was properly
snubbed. An Oxford bookseller had told
me that Mr. D. was extremely nice about
the printing of his ' Alices,' and that every
copy not up to his ideal was withheld from
sale and given to the poor. I, coveting
some of these for our village children, and
being in Oxford, sent a note to Christ Church
asking if I had been accurately informed,
and received in reply the following printed
circular, which is now among my most
cherished possessions :

" ' Mr. C. L. Dodgson is so frequently
addressed by strangers on the quite unauthor-
ised assumption that he claims, or at any rate
acknowledges, the authorship of books not
published under his name, that he has found it
necessary to print this, once for all, as an
answer to all such applications.

He neither claims nor acknowledges any
connexion with any ' pseudonym,' or with any
book not published under his own name.

Christ Church, Oxford.'"

Cornhill also has a Lewis Carroll article
by the Eev. T. B. Strong, of Christ Church,
in which incidentally we find these quota-
tions from an 1865 pamphlet on "The
Dynamics of a Parti-cle," which gives an
account of the election that ended in
Mr. Gladstone's retirement from the repre-
sentation of the University of Oxford.
Here are some definitions :

I. Plain superficiality is the character of a

speech, in which any two points being taken,
the speaker is foimd to lie wholly with regard
to those two points.

III. When a Proctor, meeting another Proc-
tor, makes the votes on one side equal to those
on the other, the feeling entertained by each side
is called Right Anger.

IV. When two parties, coming together, feel
a Bight Anger, each is said to be complementary
to the other (though, strictly speaking, this is
very seldom the case).

V. Obtuse Anger is that which is greater than
Right Anger.

In the same article tlie fact is noted that
" Chortle " is included in Dr. Murray's New
English Dictionary.

Finally, let us quote a passage from the
letter concerning her friendship with Lewis
Carroll, which Mrs. Hargreaves, the original
" Alice," has sent to the St. James's Gazette :

" Most of Mr. Dodgson's stories were told to
us on river expeditions to Nuneham, or Godstow,
near Oxford. My eldest sister, now Mrs.
Skene, was ' Prima,' mentioned in the poem at
the beginning of Alice's Adventures in Wonder-
land. I was ' Secunda,' and ' Tertia ' was my
sister Edith. I believe the beginning of ' Alice '
was told one summer afternoon when the sun
was so burning that we had landed in the
meadows down the river, deserting the boat to
take refuge in the only bit of shade to be
found, which was under a new-made hayrick.
Here from all three came the old petition of
'Tell us a story' — and so began the ever-
delightful tale. Sometimes to tease us — and
perhaps being really tired — Mr. Dodgson would
stop suddenly and say, ' And that's aU tiU next
time.' ' Ah, but it is next time,' would be the
exclamation from all three ; and after some
persuasion the story woidd start afresh. Another
day, perhaps, the story would begin in the boat,
and Mr. Dodgson, in the middle of telUng a
thrilling adventure, would pretend to go fast
asleep, to our great dismay. I have often
thought, with gratitude and wondnr, of the
unvarying kindness and good nature shown to
us. Alice's adventui-es were first written down
in answer to my teasing wish to possess the
story in book form."

The second number of The Home TTni-
versity substantiates the claim of the pro-
moters to originality. Their idea is evidently
to be purely suggestive and stimulative.
They regard with horror anything like a
course of teaching. The result is a budget
of educational matter which provokes a smile
by its variety. The schoolmaster is turned
Ariel : he "divides and bums in manyplaces."
Thus we have a story of Keats as a "Medical-
student Poet," a page of facts about Anne
Boleyn, a polyglot conversation on "Treacle
for IJums," articles on "The Jordan and
its Lakes," and " Cato the Elder," a
"Lecture on Shells," a slab of Coleridge's
"Table Talk," "Botanical Notes for
February," some loose "Memoranda as to
Milton's Life," and "The Present Condition
of Greece." After these items there seems
to be something a little superfluous about
" Extracts Relating to Education " and " A
General Conversation." The editor would
probably meet objectors by adapting a
speech of Dr. Johnson's : " Sir, I have found
you a large number of facts, I am not
obliged to find you a digestion."

One article, not named above, deserves
notice, because it reveals a new type of

262

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 5, 1898.

bookbuyer. The writer bid sixteen shillings
for a bundle of boois at a book sale because
it contained Coiint Segur's Memoirs :
"These I wanted, and I thought that the
other sixty-four books could not be dear."
We shoiild think not, but they might be
troublesome. The buyer found in this
bundle an odd volume of Sterne's Sentimental
Journey, the Satires of Juvenal and Persius
in a beautiful volume, but in type too
small for his sight, an ecclesiastical history
from "Moses to Luther," a Hindoo and
Mohammedan almanac for 1784, a Life of
Cromwell, a volume of Lardner, two of Plu-
tarch's "Lives," a book of French pro-
verbs, a manual of Domestic Medicine, and
two books — Falconer's Shipivrcck and Somer-
ville's Chace — of which the purchaser says
naively " there is nothing to show that
they are not first editions." One would
enjoy inspecting a library formed on these
Gargantuan principles.

For the benefit of Frenchmen visiting
this country a little Dictionnaire de Slang has
been prepared by M. Legras (Garnier
Freres), who, when he was living in London,
he tells us, noted down in alphabetical
order all the colloquial expressions he
heard. The results of his industry should
assist his countrymen to some strikingly
idiomatic English. Some of the translations
are amusing : " All there— ^ci*/ et Men
portant" ; " Pll upset your apple-cart — Je
vas teflanqner ta carcame (J I'envers " ; " Gush
— Enthousiasme sentimental pottr un object sam
importance" ; "Plank down (money, &c.) —
Mem^ sens que fork out " ; " Swig — Boire a
grands coups."

A SERIES of articles on Famous Houses of
Bath, from the pen of Mr. J. F. Meehan, is
appearing in The Beacon, a new journal of
"political and general information" circu-
lating in the Frome division of Somersetshire.
The articles are accompanied by illustra-
tions, and we hope that the series will
ultimately be put into book form. Bath's
historical and literary associations will bear
such a revival.

FuLHAM has had its historians and topo-
graphers, notably Faulkner. Faulkner's
Fulham is a familiar term in the second-hand
book lists ; and it has received the cachet of
the accessible bookshelves round the walls
of the British Museum Eeading Eoom.
But it is evident that Faulkner only tickled
the soil which Mr. Charles James Feret has
been excavating deeply for some years.
Mr. Feret's Fulham Old and New will occupy
three quarto volumes, and will be fully
illustrated. The Court Eolls of the Manor
of Fulham, untouched by Faulkner, have
been searched by Mr. Feret. The parish
books, which extend back to 1625, and the
church registers, which go back to 1675,
have been explored. The history will take
ite shape from a tour, starting from Old
Fulham Bridge, built in 1729, and the Ferry,
which is as old as Magna Carta. Then High-
street, Burlington-road, and Church-row
will be reviewed; and the church wiU be
entered. The Xing's-road, Parson's-green,
Fulham-road, "Walham-green, Gibba-green,

and other neighbourhoods are fully dealt
with. The work will be issued by the
Leadenhall Press.

The sudden death of Prof. H. C. Banister
having left his widow in straitened cir-
cumstances, some friends of the late Pro-
fessor have determined to endeavour to raise
funds for the purchase of an annuity for
her. Dr. Vincent, 9, " Berners- street, Lon-
don, W., has kindly consented to act as
hon. secretary, and Principal Cummings as
hon. treasurer.

A LITTLE pamphlet describing a transla-
tion of Von Vondel'sZM«/«>'by an American
writer reaches us. We find in it a passage
which we cannot refrain from quoting simply
by way of contrast to, and relief from, the
ordinary Uterary gossip paragraph studded
with familiar names :

" Last year in Holland I met Pol de Mont,
whose best verses are collected under the title
Iris. I fancy he is not well known yet out of
his own land, but I may assure you that he is
in the true succession of the great Dutch poets
of our century — of Bilderdyk, Helmers, Tollens,
Da Costa, Bogaers, Beets, Ten Kate.

It was in Rotterdam ; we drank coffee ; I
asked him :

' For what do you thank God most ? '

' That I have escaped from the influence of
Vader Cats.'

' Bravo ! ' said I. ' You are the first Dutch
writer (prose or verse) who has escaped it in
300 long Dutch years.'

He thanked me by reciting his ' Eyzende
Sterren.' "

A COMEDIETTA from the pen of Mr. Barrie
wiU form one of the features of the perfor-
mance for the benefit of Miss NeUie Farren
at Drury Lane. The title is " Platonic
Friendship."

The Queen has just accepted specially
bound copies of Volumes I., II., and III. of
the New English Dictionary, published and
dedicated to Her Majesty by the University
of Oxford, and has sent to the Delegates of
the Press, through Sir Arthur Bigge, her
" best thanks for these first volumes of their
magnificent work."

Messrs. Cassell & Co. have arranged to
publish a cheap edition, in monthly volumes
at 3s. 6d., of some of E. L. Stevenson's
books, which are not now accessible
in popular form. The following is the
sequence of publication : March, Kidnapped ;
April, Catriona; May, The Wrecker; June,
Island Nights' Entertainments.

In his new story. The Incidental Bishop, Mr.
Grant Allen makes a fresh departure. The
scene is laid in the South Seas, and depicts
the struggles of an innocent man tossed into
a position which he has no right to occupy.

Messrs. C. Arthur Pearson will publish
at once Mr. Pett Eidge's new novel, Three
Women and Mr. Frank Cardwell. The hero
coming to London meets three women, with
whom his after career is intimately associ-
ated.

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED,

JANE AUSTEN.

INSTEAD of apologising, as I feel inclined
to, for mixing two things so diverse as
shooting and criticism, I perhaps ought
rather to plume myself on falling in with a
popular fashion. However, my part on this
occasion is only that of one who reports
a conversation. It is sometimes my fortune
at a week-end to be one of four men who
have discovered a cosy old inn on the
Norfolk coast where there are no golf-links,
some flight shooting, abundance of rabbits
to pop at, a plain good dinner to be had,
and a comfortable oak room in which to
spend the evening. For the sake of con-
venience I will call my friends Smith, Brown,
and Eobinson.

Smith is from the city, but his hale figure
and ruddy complexion, a frank eye, and
a bearing dignified to the verge of swagger,
give him the look of an ideal county squire-
He is getting to be elderly, and is Con-
servative in his Eadicalism— /.«., for I
detest quibbling verbal paradoxes, he
carries with him that enthusiasm and zeal
for "the species" which belonged to
the great Liberal movement when Bright
was in his prime and Gladstone "going
great guns." But he is out of touch with
the new ideas, and will be the old-fashioned
Eadical until the end of the chapter. Now
the discerning render, for whom alone 1
write, will need no further account of his
literary tastes. He knows at once that
Smith accepts George Eliot as an oracle, is
learned in Browning, believes in John Stuart
MiU and Macaulay, Carlyle and Euskin,
loves George Macdonald, has a kindly eye
to Mrs. Humphry Ward, and hopes for
much from Mr. William Watson.

Brown is a flourishing journalist, and,
therefore, entirely destitute alike of definite
opinion and principle. Mark j-ou, however,
this is to be understood in a Pickwickian
sense. We all love Brown and would not
for worlds speak iU of him, only he would
never dream of applying any test beyond
his immediate liking to literature. Not
being a critic, he actually does recreate
himself with books and derive pleasure,
from reading them. But he (fraws a
Jesuitical distinction between his public
and his private conscience. In private he
woidd toss aside the most popular nove)
of the day and vow it to be utter trasl
if it did not amuse him, but in the journal
he would judge of the attention due to the
same book purely by the vogue of thi
author. It is his business to keep a fingei
on the public pulse and allot space accord'

ingly.

Eobinson is an ardent young stuaen
busUy employed in devouring Hteratun
wholesale, and would be very outspokei
and enthusiastic but for the fashion noi'
prevalent of curbing and restraining thi
stronger emotions. It was he that starts
the talk about Jane Austen, ^e hai
brought with him the pretty edition of Pm
and Prejudice, with Professor Saintsbury
introduction and Hugh Thomson's illustra

March 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

263

:ions. No sooner was dinner past than he
sank into an easy chair, forgot both the
room and the company, and scarcely looked
lip tiU a sigh of pleasure announced that
Elizabeth was safely married to Mr. Darcy.
Meanwhile we others had been content to
sit and do nothing except smoke and play
with a few literary and other journals
3arried with us from town. After being out
in a keen air from before dawn tiU dusk
without eating anything, and then coming
in to an early and heartily enjoyed dinner,
we were in a reposeful rather than an
snergetic mood. But it was pleasant to
watch how the youngster enjoyed his novel.
When it was finished he laid the book
down and tried to look as though it had not
•jarried him off his feet.

" If Jane Austen had been a minor poet
;hey coidd not have dressed her uj) more
irettUy," said the journalist, taking up the
I'olume. " Good print, good paper, a book
iileasant to handle, Thomson's racy pictures,
im introduction by Saintsbury ; what could
i)e better ? "

I "I wish," said the student, "that Saints-

|)ury had not invented so horrible a word

Is ' Janites,' and ' Austenians ' is nearly as

tad ; ' Swiftian ' and ' eminently quinter-

ential '- — what expressions for a Professor

,'f Literature to apply to a writer of so pure

|nd simple a style as hers ! "

! "Now," remarked Smith, "I have always

ked Saintsbury just because he doesn't

ick and choose his words. The fault of

le superfine critics is that they get into the

•ay of dandling and fondHng little bits of

inguage {verba antiqua et sonantia) and

)rgetting that after all it is the large

inpression that tells. I do not read many

ovels, but I confess to liking beat those

lat give dramatic situations and strong

issions that carry me quite out of myself.

line Austen has not had this effect. Here

j a bread-and-butter world full of bits of

lisaes and masters that never seem to be

jdly grown up."

■ I would not go so far as that," said the
umalist, "but I'd never think of putting
book of Jane Austen's in my carpet bag
tien going a journey. She is a highly
spectable classic, of course, but Jane Eyre
more to my taste. It has amused me to
e you so intent on her, Rob."
"Oh, you could not like her, of course
t," replied the student ; " I've seen you
t through two books of an evening — you
ip from the first quarrel to the duel, skim
le love scenes, fasten on the murder and
^rorce, and just bestow a glance on the end.
J is scarcely fair even to your favourite,
^anley Weyman, and it wiU never do with
iide and Prejudice, where the work is all
a fine and delicate. For remember her
c n description : 'The little bit (two inches
\ide) of ivory on which I work with so fine
ajjiush as produces little effect after much
1 )"our.' "

The journalist laughed, " It's a super-
8 don of you superior chaps to believe in
Jjae Austen and be down on the journalist ;
qt you will find us pressmen manage to
» very near the bull'seye after aU."

r 01>> yes, awfully near ! " retorted the
ojer. " The journalists showed un-
c(|imon discernment when they praised up

to the skies Evelina, and Th) Castle of
Otranto and The Mysteries of TJdolfho, The
Scottish Chiefs and Ths Wild Irish Girl,
and quite neglected a real genius."

" It was her own blame," said the
journalist. " Like a certain critic, ' she
courted obscurity as others seek fame, lived
in seclusion at Clevedon and Bath, had no
literary friends, and read such books as
Military Police and Institutions of the British
Empire. Did she expect to be both outside
and inside at once ? Besides, the rule is
romance before domesticity, and Mrs. Rad-
cliffe held the platform."

" The fact is," retorted the student, "that
writers for the press have no independent
judgment. They only endorse the opinions
of others, and never ' go nap ' on genius till
it is substantially recognised. Jane Austen,
up to the time of her death, had cleared
about seven hundred pounds from her
novels. Had the sum been ten or twenty
times as much, and her work several degrees
worse, the papers would have been full of
her."

While the conversation was proceeding
Smith had kept turning over the leaves of
Pride and Prejudice, evidently engaged on
the illustrations. " How do you like Hugh
Thomson's pictures?" asked the journalist.

" Pretty well," he replied ; " not extrava-
gantly though. The horses are the best;
he has the eye of a humorist for a horse,
each has a separate character. I rather like
the dresses, too, they help one to realise
what genteel society was like at the turn of
the century. Yes; they are much better
than the wretched pictures usually thought
good enough for novels. I like the apothe-
cary, the postman, and most of those that
express whimsicality ; but how siUy and
weak are the broader caricatures — that, for
instance," pointing to a group of officers.
"For my own part," he added, "if I admired
Jane Austen as much as Robinson does I
would have an edition without any intro-
ductory essays (I admire Mr. Saintsbury's
writing, but prefer it in a book by itself),
with no pictui-es, and certainly without that,"
and he put his finger on the artist's dedica-
tion of the illustrations to Mr. Comyns Carr.

" The question is one of taste," replied
the student, " and I in measure agree with
you. Some novelists are easy to illustrate.
Dickens, for instance, describes only strongly
marked types with unmistakable physical
characteristics — you can realise them. But
Jane Austen, with her delicate lights and
shades, cannot be treated so. Who could
draw a satisfactory picture of Elizabeth
Bennet, the most charming heroine in
fiction?"

"Rather a strong expression that, Rob,"
said the journalist. " I thought you would
have left superlatives to us rough, plain-
spoken pressmen. Why don't you put a
'perhaps' or 'in my poor opinion,' or 'by
some considered ' before your adjective ? "

"I used the word deliberately," replied
the student ; "if you consider the grace,
elasticity, spirit, and vitality with which
Jane Austen presents Elizabeth, you must
admit her equal is not to be found out of
Shakespeare."

"What about Diana Vernon ? " asked the
joiimalist, and then, " Gad, what an idea

for a symposium : Who is the finest woman
in modem fiction ? "

"I like Di," said the student, "but
Scott did not take her through her paces
as well as Lizzie is taken. She is not shown
in as many different moods and tempers.
She is too perfect. It was the way of Scott.
All his heroines — Catherine and Rowena,
Miss Wardour and Jeanie Deans — are all
fine but spotless. Elizabeth has a thousand
faults just peering up, acts the part of wise-
acre at first to the point of folly, is often
blind, pert, audacious, imprudent ; and yet
how splendidly she comes out of it all !
Alive to the very tips of her fingers, difficult
to win, but as impetuous and tender as
Juliet when she is won."

" It does my heart good to see that
youth is still capable of enthusiasm," said
the journalist ; " but, my dear chap, after
another twenty years, when I hope to see
you a portly husband and father who has
ceased to think much of heroines either in
fact or fiction, your ideals will be completely
changed. You will like much better to
read about Mrs. Norris saving three-
quarters of a yard of baize out of the stage-
curtain, and Fanny Price will be more
interesting to you than Elizabeth."

" Not a bit of it," stoutly rejoined the
student. "Mrs. Norris is quite interesting to
me now, but I hope I shall always retain
vigour and health enough to prefer Pride
and Prejudice to Mansfield Park, the
work of a young, ardent, fresh imagina-
tion, to that of a mind even more
keen and clever, but stricken by disease.
If ever Jane Austen approaches the morbid
it is in that long-drawn-out story of the
repressed love of Fanny Price for her cousin
Edmund— it has all round it an aroma of
the sick-room. Better by far is the world
of dances and parties, of coaching and walk-
ing and riding in the earlier book."

" It's a very narrow world," objected the
journalist, who loved to tease his companion
and make him talk. " It is bounded on one
side by the six hundred a year, or whatever
the income was, of Mr. CoUins, and on the
other by the ten thousand a year of Mr.
Darcey. The poor are only supernumeraries.
A bit of genteel eighteenth century, my boy,
overlapping into the nineteenth, a mere
chronicle of small beer, misses ' going out '
and intriguing to ' get settled,' bread-and-
butter passions, laboured nothings : all that
after Bums, too, and in the time of Crabb !
the old convention not a touch of the new.
That was exactly what you were saying.
Smith, was it not ? "

Smith is a very exact man, with a dear
and deliberate style of thinking. "You
never thrash a point out thoroughly," he
complained on being appealed to. "I have
been asking myself why I care so little for
Jane Austen, though my opinion counts for
nothing, since both of yoii know much
more about fiction and derive more pleasure
from it than I do. Still, it seems to me
that in the best novels the blazonry, as one
may call it, is as important as the story.
The actual adventures of Don Quixote are
less to me than the author's picture of Spain
and satire of knight-errantry ; the scrapes
and love affairs of Tom Jones are not so
interesting as their setting in a vivid repre-

264

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 5, 1898

sentation of the manners of the time.
Scott imderstood this well. He \yas never
content with a mere love story, but put in
all he knew — historic scenes, familiar char-
acters, antiquarianism, atmosphere of the
time, its religions, controversy, literature.
He omitted nothing that would tell, nothing
that could widen his appeal. George Eliot
had her purpose. Thackeray in Esmond,
his greatest success, relied upon the his-
torical representation. Well, now Jane
Austen is most curious and detailed in her
minute incidents and showing of character,
but has she got the blazonry, the secondary
interest ? "

" You might apply the criticism to Shake-
speare," exclaimed the student; "it is not
for environment, but for human nature pure
and simple that we read him. And, at any-
rate, Jane Austen, though too much of an
artist to emphasise the fact, gives a very
vivid picture of English manners as they
were just on the eve of steam and electricity.
If it is confined to one grade of society,
that was the grade she knew. But what I
claim for her most is that she was really the
ultimate flower and consummate perfection
of feminine art. You compare her, Mr.
Collins, for instance, with Sir John Falstaff .
Shakespeare has drawn his man in bold,
forcible, striking lines, such as a woman
would be mad to imitate ; Jane Austen, on
her bit of ivory, works you out with a
hundred delicate touches, and in fine, faint
colours a figure quite as perfect in its way,
though the work of a miniature painter is
not to be classed with that of a Eubens.
Take other female novelists, however, living
or dead, from George Eliot downwards, and
you will fiud they fail precisely because they
do not appreciate the limitations of sex.
There are things they can do better than
men, there are things they cannot do — or
have never done — at all. Jane Austen
knew and worked within the limits of her
sex, and, as far as she goes, is perfect ; that
is, if you judge by her best, which, in my
opinion, at least, is Pride and Prejudice, a
beautifully proportioned, sunshiny, and well
contrived story, written with the finest ease
and simplicity, yet full of wit, satire, and
go. It is the feminine counterpart of Tom
Jones, for Jane had no little of the tranquil
aloofness, the mental detachment, the ex-
quisite humour of Fielding. Mr. Goldwin
Smith, indeed, says her master is Eichard-
son, but probably he had Mansfield Park in
his mind, where she is a deal too French
and morbid."

"You are judging her from one book,"
said the journalist, " and even it, if I may
trust my recollection, is not perfect. There
is an old woman — Lady de Bourg — in it who
is caricatured too broadly for amusement,
and Sir William Lucas gets close to the
borders of extravaganza, while the yoimg
men are all creatures for melodrama, villain
and hero alike. One could pick out the
same faults in Emma, which I rather
prefer."

Here Smith broke in again. "I raised
one point, now I will put another. Jane
Austen in her lifetime made, you say, seven
himdred pounds out of her novels ; how
much ha« been earned since? How much
that her heirs and assignees never got a

penny of ? I have just boug:ht ground and
built a flour-mill. That will be handed
from father to son as long as the law endures ;
if they let it they will get rent, but Jane
Austen embarked her capital — her time and
energy — in a novel. Her greatest vogue
came when her copyright was expiring.
Any publisher who likes can make money
out of it. Speaking as a business man, I
say it is an unfair arrangement. A pub-
lisher gave ten pounds for the MS. of
Northanger Alley, and kept it five years
locked up in a drawer, afraid to incur the
expense of printing it. Why should his
successors enjoy the monetary return for
Jane Austen's brains ? If they did any-
thing for the less fortunate authors it would
be different. As it is they might very
justly be asked to pay a small royalty on all
reprinted books, the copyright of which has
run out, and the funds might go to the
establishment of a writer's pension fund,
such as banks and large houses of business
have. What do you say to that ? " and he
turned to me.

I had been listening and smoking my pipe
in a silence so usual that my companions
are used to it. Now, however, I roused
myself and prepared to give a masterly
summing up of the argument, but "Hush,"
said the journalist, and even as he spoke the
clock chimed ten. We have made it a
rule in these excursions to forbid the dis-
cussion of any serious subject in the merry
hour that comes before eleven, which is our
bedtime, and at that moment the landlord
himself punctually brought in a certain
tray. He drinks our health in an old-
fashioned way, and as soon as he goes we
lapse back into sport and laughter and boy-
hood, so that before you know where you
are the chimes break forth again and to
bed we go. P.

SHAKESPEAEE FOE AMATEUES.

A FEW weeks ago, in some remarks on
"Julius Oassar" as at present rendered at
Her Majesty's, I ventured to suggest that
the modem professional actor was unequal
to the task of playing Shakespeare, and
that he should leave interpretation to
amateurs. This view was suggested, in
part at least, by a comparison of "Julius
Cffisar " as given by the O.U.D.S. at Oxford
in 1889, and the same play as given by Mr.
Tree in the present year of grace. There-
fore, when I heard that the same Oxford
University Dramatic Society had decided
this year to present "Eomeo and Juliet,"
I determined to go up and see how that
play, too often mangled by the professional
actor, fared at the hands of the amateur.

There are probably some among my
readers whose good or bad fortune it was
to see Sir Henry Irving's Eomeo many
years ago. I cannot speak of that perform-
ance, for, alas! I was not present at it.
Let me turn to a more recent Romeo
which I saw more than once — Mr. Forbes
Eobertson's. It was careful and dignified
and impressive, and half a dozen other
things. Mr. Eobertson spoke his verse, as

he always does, with taste and ability. The
mounting of the piece was sumptuous, and
Mrs. Campbell wore the most delightful
frocks. But was it Shakespeare's Eomeo ?
Obviously it was not. Here was a
middle-aged gentleman, haggard with the
cares of actor-management, trying to play
a boy's part to a Juliet who, magnifi-
cent actress as she sometimes is, is certainly
not hard on fourteen years of age despite
the nurse's very precise assertions to
that effect. I will admit that Mrs.
Campbell looked charming. I will admit
that in the South a girl of fourteen looks as
old as a girl of eighteen with us. I will
admit that the actress contrived at moments
to infuse quite a remarkable youthfulness
and sprightliness into her acting. But
that Mr. Forbes Eobertson .should essay the
hero's part in Shakespeare's wonderful
tragedy of calf love was, as it seems to me,
preposterous. Eomeo is a sentimental lad.
Mr. Eobertson played him with the austere
countenance of an elderly burgess weighted
with many responsibilities and always
wondering whether he could pay his gas
bill. " Oh, Eomeo, Eomeo, wherefore art
thou Eomeo ! " cried Mrs. Campbell in
anguish, and I cried too. It is of course
true that in the j)a8t accomplished veterans
of the stage have constantly essayed the
part, and that Eomeo's blond wig has con-
cealed many a grey hair, but that is no
reason why they should continue to do so.
Nowadays, when we ask for realism on the
stage, the thing has become absurd. I still
shudder as I recall the wan and wintry smile
of disaUusionment which Mr. Eobertson
forced himself to summon up when that
funny dog Mercutio rallied him. It was
a heroic effort to be boyish on his part,
but it was not convincing.

It is interesting to turn from this to Mr.
Frank Stevens's Eomeo at Oxford. Mr.
Stevens is not a heaven-sent genius. He is
by no means the best actor that the O.U.D.S.
has turned out. But he tackled Eomeo as
Eomeo ought to be tackled, with the ardour
of a school boy and the courage of a novice.
His Eomeo in parts was frankly bad, not-
ably in the fifth act and, to a less extent, in
the fourth. But it was a real attempt to
play Shakespeare's hero as he is, the way-
ward, sentimental, petulant lad, who was
many fathoms deep in love with Eosaline
till he saw Juliet, and straightway fell in
love with her ; who had shed rivers of tears
because Eosaline scorned him, and was quite
ready by Act V. to kill himself for love of
Juliet. This Eomeo is all emotion and no
knowledge. He falls in and out of love
with the readiness of fanciful youth, and ne
believes terribly in the reality of his passion.
Mr. Stevens played him in this spirit with
admirable effect; he had the air of the
handsome boy just coming to manhood, in
itself no slight advantage to him ov«' *'
average actor of forty. Again, he had
the fresh voice of youth, not the worn,
strained voice of the veteran player ot
twenty seasons. In the Balcony scene
he was quite admirable ; while in the
great Banishment scene in the friars ceU
he was so courageous in his conception ol
how the part should be played that one
could only regret that want of experience

MarohIS, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

265

arred some of its effectiveness. Sere was
le real Eomeo who at the thought of being
inished from his newly married bride falls
I to a real schoolboy fit of " temper," the
ind of "temper" which the grown man,
as ! feels compelled to deny himself. He
lils on the Prince's mercy as cruelty, weeps
ars of sheer rage, and grovels on the floor
' the good friar's cell in the abandonment
: childish grief. The conception of all this
as admirable, and if the execution was
3t quite equal to it, allowance must be
ade for the extreme difficulty of the role.

youthful actor who flings himself on to the
3or on his face with a resounding thud is apt
1 provoke a smile in the hardened playgoer,
it much may be forgiven him for tackling
is scene with so courageous a disregard

difficulties which the professional actor
ids it wiser to shirk.

i Juliet is, of course, one of the most difficult
jirts in Shakespeare, and Miss Lilian Collen
jhieved something very like a triumph in
I She was free from that detestable rest-
|ssness which is the bane of modem acting.
jie never fidgeted. She contrived to
sggest, in her performance, the serious
jlemnity of childhood, with its moments of
[lyfulness, its tenderness, its passionate
Eger at its wrongs. In the Balcony scene,
ad, indeed, in all her scenes with Romeo,
33 played with great skill, never obtruding
hrseU upon the attention of the audience
tien it was not in her part to do so, a
f tue rare in "leading ladies." There was
a suggestion of Bume- Jones about her
c tumes and the arrangement of her hair,
a 1 her whole appearance was that of a
r|l girl Juliet, not a middle-aged lady
ijssed up for the part. The performance,
ID my opinion, was as a whole more in-
t«)sting and much more intelligent than
Bame play as we are accustomed to see

k iven in London.

St. John Hankin.

PAEIS LETTEE.

VVcEN I open a book and find men given

to luch sitting in the twilight and talking

of ;heir souls, with a certain imprecise and

II' i+fUigent eloquence, I know the writer

young, and suspect him of a strain

Itic blood. I wonder why Celtic

< undiluted generally spells the mag-

it void ? AU these lovely words,

er in French or English, are capti-

: to the eye ; and when Commonsense

iself the question, What, in Heaven's

does it all mean ? we are answered

I! inscrutable, fathomless, picturesque

vague. Les Pierres qui Pleurent,

"nry Bourgerel, has all the defects,

it in any considerable degree the

ios, of Celtic literature. There is too

talk of the soul ; too much abuse of

u, whom he qualifies as an animal

' !' 'ut soul, a statue coarse, heavy, with-

'■•hysical grace. Mr. Meredith has said

I woman may be judged by her

-ate of her sex. I judge the moral

ancinteUeetual fibre of a male writer by

his Intimate of women. When he abuses

the I know him to be an hysterical

"intellectual." M. Bourgerel, who defines
Bourget as the Zola of the Eaubourg, and
Zola the Bourget of Batignolles, would do
well to follow some mental treatment, and
let his immortal soul alone.

But the Mercure de France gives us some-
thing else besides the Breton rhapsodies
of Henry Bourgerel. It has republished
from its magazine an excellent translation
of Mr. Meredith's famous essay on Comedy
by Henri d'Avray. This little masterpiece
is quite at home in its lucid French dress,
and consistently Meredithian, in spite of
transposition.

Gyp's latest, Sportmanomunie, is dismal
reading. Not even Gyp can hope to be
witty and entertaining through ten volumes
a year. All this cheerless twitter about
horses, amazons and cavaliers, and the
eternal Bois is so dull and stale ! Gyp is
hard on the vulgarity of the snob, the
parvenu, on the social blunders of the
Republican official ; but there is something
far more vulgar than their blunders of
toilet, of table and drawing-room etiquette,
and that is her insistence upon such
trivialities. The Haute Finance as she
contemptuously designates the Rothschilds,
&c., could teach her many a needed lesson
in real — not factitious — breeding, in delicacy,
in taste and quiet culture. With a Christian
aristocracy such as Gyp paints that of latter-
day France — idle, frivolous, unconsciously ill-
bred in its bitter criticism of the breeding
of outsiders (always on matters that have
no real significance whatever, such as the
cut of garments and boots, exterior tenue,
peeling fruit), while condoning the vilest
tone and morals in its own set, more injury
is done to the country than the fancied evil
of Semitic popularity. Gyp is known to be
a fierce anti-Semitic ; but one would like to
see her justify her abuse of the Haute
Juiverie in Paris by pictures of the Noble
Faubourg a little less atrociously smart,
flippant, and depressingly trivial. At least,
cannot the Faubourg be a shade more
moral?

From Gyp to Marcel Pre vest is a leap.
Gyp remains faithful to the old tradition
that a Frenchwoman, whatever her morals,
can charm. Her object may be to shock
us, but she wishes us all the same to cry
out disapproval in the same breath " What
a delicious little sinner ! " And, to do us
justice, this was our criticism of the earlier
bright books. But M. Prevost has unhappily
no such object. To charm us is his very last
pre-occupation. In one of his new volumes
of tales, Le Mariage de Julienne, he makes
his heroine exclaim that men are worth
much more than women because they embark
upon the waters of matrimony with far
nobler sentiments. Certainly, if the heroines
of M. Prevost could for a single instant be
taken as average specimens of the half of
France which furnishes us with such admir-
able examples of wife and mother, it is not
Julienne, but the whole world that might
fitly cry out in exasperated contempt that
the lowest form of blackguard civilisation
has yet invented was still better than the
Frenchwoman, whether maid or wife. The
mystery to the foreigner, who has lived long
in France, and who has intimate relations
with scores and scores of Frenchwomen of

all ages, and has opportunity enough to
esteem them, with all their charming quali-
ties, at their full value, is where writers
like Marcel Prevost obtain their atrocious
models. But the mystery I perceive
to be equally great for Frenchmen and
Frenchwomen themselves. I have never
met a single one who could explain it to
me. Perhaps M. Prevost is not aware of
the profound pain he causes so large a
portion of his compatriots. French girls
are not inevitably common, obscene, vulgarly
cynical and smart, without delicacy of mind,
of instinct, of sentiment, aU pre-occupied
with a single thought, which they express
in their diaries with an indecency that
leaves the least credulous of their bloom
of innocence abashed and awed. Among
modern girls, in France perhaps more even
than elsewhere, are pure and lovely souls to
be found, opening flowers of every radiant
gift, sensibilities as exquisite as one could
wish. M. Prevost is no recluse. Surely
in society he sometimes meets a French
woman who is a lady, who is well-bred and
charming, who is pure and simple, and who
possesses such an old-fashioned organ as a
heart.

Henri Rabusson, in his Petit Cahier
Bleu, seems to be more fortunate. He has
actually discovered that a French girl can
fall in love in spite of her modem cynicism
and fast manner, though it must be admitted
her choice does not commend itself to
fastidious readers.

MUe. Blaze de Bury has published a book
of studies of "Ladies of yesterday and to-
day." The book reads as a bad translation
from a tongue never meant to please. It
is mercilessly pedantic, flourishing in the
reader's face, like a shower of stones, all
sorts of inappropriate pseudo-philosophic
terms : imotif, affectif, &c. Was it with the
intention of pleasing the female sovereigns
of Europe that MUe. de Bury wrote three
insigniflcant essays on the Queens of
England, of Italy, and the ex-Empress of
Germany ? One would expect to read such
articles in a woman's fashion paper, but not
in a French volume. It is well to praise
queens, but one would wish for matter less
stale, told, above aU, in better French.
Here is a specimen of perfectly untrans-
latable French, for the reason that it is
neither French nor English, nor any other
language we have the habit of associating
with syntax and polish :

" Et mechant le due, ioi, se le prouve a
nouveau. II laisse a celle-oi ime irradiation
passagere puis brusquement, comme toujours,
c'est de la cour de France que vient le rappel,
et sans transition I'isolement de Eenee se fait
plus sombre, par le souvenir de I'ephemere
enchantement. "

The first line is a positive miracle in mon-
strosity, which we read in sheer bewilder-
ment. The volume may aptly be described
as a gathering of platitudes, the result of
second-rate learning, told without a notion
of style, in foreign, rough, and scarcely
intelligible French. One wonders for what
public MUe. Blaze de Bury caters, and with
what intention such mediocre books are'
manufactured, since their object is neither
to please nor to instruct.

H. L.

266

THE ACADEMY.

[Maeoh 5, 1898.

THE WEEK.

THE last of the late Mr. William Morris's
series of romances is now given to tlie
world. The story of T/w Sundering Flood
is supposed to be told by a monk of the
Black Canons at Abingdon, where he writes
it down. For frontispiece we have a map
of the city and of the river flowing from the
" Great Mountains " far away. This map
does more than explain the story ; it creates
an appetite for it, with its wastes, and its
"Wood Masterless," and its suggestive
names like " Longshaw " and "Grey
Sisters" and "Bull Meads"; to say
nothing of sites bearing such legends as
"Here they fought the black Skimmers,"
or " Here Osberne first met with Steel-
head," or " Where Osberne shot the Hart."
We quote the following description of the
Sunderiny Flood from the first of the sixty-
six chapters :

" The biggest of dromonds and round-ships
might fare along it, and oft they lay amid
pleasant up-country places, with their yards aU
but touching the windows of the husbandman's
stead, and their bowsprit thrusting forth
amongst the middens, and the routing swine
and querulous hens ; and the imeasy lads and
lasses sitting at high-mass of the Sunday in the
grey village church woidd see the tall masts
dimly amidst the painted saints of the aisle
windows, and their minds would wander from
the mass-hackled priest and the words and
gestures of him, and see visions of far countries
and outlandish folk, and some would be heart-
smitten with that desire of wandering and
looking on new things which so oft the sea-
beat board and the wind-strained pine bear
with them to the dwellings of the stay-at-
homes : and to some it seemed as if, when they
went from out the church, they should fall in
with St. Thomas of India stepping over the
gangway, and come to visit their uplaudish
Christmas and the Yule-feast of the iield-abiders
of mid- winter frost. And moreover, when the
tide failed, and there was no longer a flood
to bear the sea-going keels up-stream, and
that was hard on an hundred miles from the
sea, yet was this great river a noble and wide-
spreading water, and the downlong stream
thereof not so heavy nor so fierce but that the
barges and lesser keels might well spread their
sails when the south-west wind blew, and fare
on without beating ; or if the wind were fouled
for them, they that were loth to reach from
shore to shore might be tracked up by draught
of horses and bullocks, and bear the wares of
the merchants to many a cheaping."

dote and social portraiture, while scattered
through the pages are many good stories
and elegant trifles of wit. One of the first
entries is this :

"April 11. — I never before heard the ex-
cellent riddle which was told me today:
' Quelle est la difference entre la panthere, lo
joumaliste, et le Gouvemcment ? La panthere
est tachetoe par la nature. Le journaUste est
achete par le Gouvemement; et le Gouverne-
ment est a jeter par la fenctre.' "

The new edition of Aubrey's Lives, issued
by the Clarendon Press, is important. It is
the most complete edition yet issued, and has
been compiled directly from Aubrey's MSS.
Only "absolute minutiao" are excluded.
Aubrey's hobby was sketchy biography. Mr.
Andrew Clark, who edits these two hand-
some volumes, sketches Aubrey in a few
words :

" Aubrey was one of those eminently good-
natured men who are very slothful in their own
affairs, but spare no pains to work for a friend.
He offered his help to Wood ; and, when it was
decided to include in Wood's book short notices
of writers connected with Oxford, that help
proved most valuable. Aubrey, through his
family and family connexions, and by reason of
his restless goings to and fro, had a wide circle
of acquaintance among squires and parsons,
lawyers and doctors, merchants and politi-
cians, men of letters and persons of quaUty,
both in town and country. He had been,
until his estate was squandered, an ex-
tensive and curious buyer of books and MSS.
And above all, being a gossip, he had used to
the utmost those opportunities of inquiry about
men and things which had been afforded him
by societies — grave, like the Eoyal Society, and
frivolous, as coffee-house gatherings and tavern
clubs."

Mr. Clark has arranged the " Lives " in
alphabetical order, and his excisions on the
score of good taste have been only such as
seemed urgently needful to be made.

The Eight Hon. Sir Mountstuart E. Grant
Duff has just put forth another instalment
of his Notes from a Diary. These Notes
are a continuation of those published
by the author a year ago. In the period
covered by the present volumes the author
was " a Member of Parliament, sometimes
in and sometimes out of office, but always
in close attendance on the service of the
House of Commons, except during the
spring of 1875, when I was travelling in
India." These Notes, however, have Uttle
to do with the author's daQy work ; they
are memoranda of meetings and greetings,
of dinners and pleasant functions, of
talks with men of note, and hearsay
piquancies. They form a budget of anec-

we have the Gospels of St. Mattltew, St.
Mark, and The General Epistles included in
one volume. The Gospel of St. Luke and
The Acts of tlie Apostles will bo published
together ; and the Pauline Epistles will be
inserted in the Acts, each Epistle at the
point of the narrative with which it is
connected.

We have received the first volume of a
publication which will be of great interest
to Biblical students, although its size and
cost make it a work for the library and the
college rather than for the individual
owner. This is the huge Bictionari/ of the
Bible projected by Messrs. T. & T. Clark, of
Edinburgh. The volume before us em-
braces A — Feasts, and extends to nearly nine
hundred quarto pages printed in double
column. The work is a Dictionary of the
Old and New Testaments, and of the Old
Testament Apocrypha, according to the
Authorised and Eevised English Versions.
The work is rather a Biblical encyclopoadia
than a dictionary. It contains articles on
the names of all Biblical persons and places,
on the antiquities and archaeology of the
Bible, on its ethnology, geology, and
natural history, and on Biblical theology
and ethics. The names of the authors are
appended to aU but very minor articles, and,
in addition to the work of the editor, the
Eev. James Hastings, the sheets have been
revised by three scholars, whose names
appear on the title-page.

An important political biography is the
long promised Memoir of Maj or-General
Sir Henry Creswicke llawlins<m by his
brother, Mr. George Kawlinson. Sir Henry
Eawlinson died in 1894, and the author
thinks some apology is due for the late
appearance of the book, but wo cannot wish
that such a work had been produced
more hastily. Sir Henry Eawlinson was a
soldier, a political agent, and an autlxority
on Cuneiform inscriptions — in a word, a
great Englishman, to whoso hands national
interests of immense importance wore
frequently committed. It is fitting that
this Memoir should be introduced, as it is,
by an appreciation of Sir Henry Eawlinson
from the pen of Lord Eoberts.

The series of short histories of the
Literatures of the World which is proceed
ing under Mr. Gosse's editorship is con
tinned this week by the addition of a Ilistori
of Italian Literature by Dr. Eichard Gamett
The work contains many illustrative metrica
translations by Miss EUen Gierke, and b;
the author.

The " Modern Eeader's Bible " now
begins to embrace the New Testament ; and

THE BOOK MARKET.

THE BOOKLESS EAST-END.
Views of the East London Cleeoy.

LAST week we showed that the East-En
of London, as judged by the gret
artery which connects Aldgate with Stratforc
is without a single good bookseller's-sho]
The best provision of books on this routi
which is four miles long, is made by tb
second-hand book barrows in the Higl
street, Whitechapel, close to the Cit;
Beyond these ban-ows our representativ
found few second-hand books, and no ne
books other than poor non-copyright worl
mixed up with toys and second-hand clock
or competing at a disadvantage with tl
halfpenny comic press. Tliis did not see
a rational state of things, and it was decid(
to ask a few East- End clergymen for the
views on the subject. These have bei
kindly supplied; and the commumcatioi
which we print below wiU, we think, 1
read with interest.

The Eev. Marmaduke Hare writes fro
the Eectory, Bow :

" Books are too expensive a luxury for E«
End residents. Life is, besides, too much of
drive with all classes to allow much time i
reading. Clergy of the East-End spend mu
less than their brethren in other neig
bourhoods, for both the above reasons; I
pubUc libraries are well patronised, and alarf
proportion of useful books is taken out than
the West-End. Yet I believe a discount boo
seller would find a good trade."

March 5, 1898. J

THE ACADEMY.

The Rev. G. Bamos, of St Barnabas
Church, Grove-road, E., writes:

" I think the absence of bookshops in the
East End is due mainly to the fact that so
many of the people work in the City, and pur-
chase their books there of the discount book-
sellers."

Mr. Barnes is in agreement with the
Eev. J. Mahomed, chaplain of London
Hospital, who sends lis the following
succinct reply to our inquiry :

" I am afraid your remarks are true, but I
would point out: (1) That many schools and
guilds have lending Hbraries, and that not only
the children read the books ; (2) the nurses of
this hospital have an excellent library or about
2,aOO volumes; (3) the patients' library has
2,000 volumes, and is constantly renewed;
(4) that we are very near the City, with its
great number of bookshops ; (5) that a very
large proportion of the East End goes to work
in the City daily."

The Eev. F. H. Dinnis, Vicar of St.
Peter's Church, Mile End, writes :

" East Enders are not great readers of good
literature, nor can they afford to buy new
I books. For usefulness I uphold our own plan,
! which is to keep up a lending library of 300
I volumes of good modern fiction, &c., charging
our parishioners who use it one penny a month.
Large public hbraries will have to be de-
centralised before they can be really useful.
The Whitechapel barrows hardly receive suffi-
cient notice in yoiu- article. Their contents are
wonderful — chiefly classics, mathematics, and
theology. No immoral books."

The Eev. J. H. Draper writes from
Whitechapel :

" The local papers are a fairly good guide to
the style of literature most acceptable in this
part of the world. Eeadiug with a view to
improvement of mind and life requires a
certain amomit of training and time which is
rarely enjoyed by the toilers in the East End."

The Eev. Alfred Webb, of Christ Church
Mission, Old Ford, E., writes :

' Your article is quite true. In this district
ve cannot buy books. A good shop in Roman-
oad, or near it, ought to do well. When I
vant a decent book I am obHged to send to the
'ity, or go without it. May your words cause
looks — good books — to be found in the East-
Snd."

RoTHEEHiTHE did not fall within our
epresentative's survey, but we have received
he following interesting note from the Eev.
idward Josselyn Beck, rector of that river-
^de parish :

" I once tried the costly experiment of open-
ig a bookshop at my own expense, and failed
icontineutly. I am now chairman of a pubhc
ee library which is always full of readers of
le humble class ; and supplies hundreds of
Drrowers with books to read at home. The
lie bookshop in Eotherhithe displays a
eagre and dingy collection of odd secoud-
md volumes, chiefly patronised by foreign
ilors from the Docks, who buy old French
ivels and German books."

I In addition to the above replies to a
yitten inquiry we sent out, we have re-

ceived tho following interesting communi-
cation from a Stratford correspondent :

" I have, with great interest, followed
your contributor step by step in his pere-
grination ; for as ' man and boy ' I may
claim to know every foot of the thoroughfare
he describes, from Aldgate to Stratford — and
even beyond.

His indictment as to the absence of new
bookshops is, of course, true ; but are we
therein very different from our kinsmen in
the other main roadways from City to
suburb ? If we buy ' new ' books at all,
are they not got either at the two or three
booksellers in the City (those happy oases
in the desert), or from the ' Stores ' —
setting aside the occcasional gaudy-covered
minor novel, &c., specially prepared as a
' leading article,' that our wives or daughters
buy at the suburban linendraj)er's ?

Whitechapel possesses, however, one glory
of which we East-Enders may fairly be proud.
I refer to the second-hand bookshop itself,
alluded to in your article ; but intentionally
only alluded to by your contributor. That
shop contains far and away the largest
collection of second-hand books in London.
I have heard Mr. George say that he must
have at least a himdred thousand odd
volumes alone, while I suppose there is
scarcely a series of magazines, reviews, pub-
lications of learned societies, long sets of
reference books — to say nothing of first
editions of Dickens, Thackeray, and others
— that you could inquire for and fail to be
supplied with on the 8i)ot. Bookbuyers, in
search of some ' missing-link,' or of an hour
or two's pastime (and where does time pass
so rapidly as in a bookshop ?), should stroU
thus far East. They would not, I venture
to say, be disappointed. The vast accumu-
lation at No. 76 is, too, a striking instance
of what may be done by hard work and
intelligence ; for Mr. George tells proudly
of the modest way in which he first started
in his business.

The premises he now occupies were, I
may add, built and used for many years
by the late Mr. Eobert Gladding, a well-
known East-End man, highly honoured in
liis public capacity and for his integrity in
business. He had removed from another
(long since demolished) shop, with its
curious down-a-step entrance, a little farther
East, that had long been the literary centre
of the neighbourhood. Mr. Gladding's
mainstay was old theologj", which in the
ante-reprint times he used to hunt up in the
• Low Countries,' bringing his purchases
home literally by the shipload.

My own recollections lierein go no longer
back than some thirty-live years or so.

Since that time, Whitechapel, Mile End,
and Bow have all suffered change : the
well-to-do people have gradually moved
outwards, most still farther East, till scarcely
anybody ('as is anybody ') will condescend
to live nearer to ' Aldgate Pump ' than,
say, Ilford ; while many are not content
imtil they reach remote Southend — now fast
becoming the Brighton of this side of
London. Some of us, though, are stiU
bound, either from old associations or from
the stern necessity of bread-winning, to live
' down East.' Let not the reader of these
rambling lines think that we are all utterly

outcast, though we possess no (new) book-
shops.

I, this morning, asked the wholesale
agent who supplies most of the newsvendors
in this district how many copies of the
Academi/, Athenceum, Literature, and Specta-
tor passed through his hands weekly. It
is true the total did not come to more than
a couple of dozen — but that, I think, ' says
something' for us — and, of course, many
copies besides of such strictly literary papers
are bought by tho East-Ender at his rail-
way-stall or in the City.

Culture is, therefore, not quite ex-
tinguished by tho smoke and smells (oli !
Cologne, we could give you odds, and beat
you easily in your own proverbial line) ; we
have our Shakespeare and other literary
societies (if not in Stratford, in Forest Gate
— practically a part of it) ; and we are, above
all, perhaps as musical and music-loving a
population as any around London.

We are not, however — I acknowledge it
with a parting pang — book-buyers, either
new or second-hand, except here and there
one. A. G. S.

Stratford, E. : March 1."

DRAMA.

WHEN an author is strongly impelled to
write for the stage, without that 2)ecu-
niary incentive which lies at the bottom of so
much literary and artistic effort, one expects
to find in his work a liigh degree of natural
aptitude for play-writing if not a touch of
genius itself. But apparently the call may
exist without any remarkable degree of
executive faculty, or with just so much of it
as the weary hack himself might display.
Within the past few years there has been
no more industrious playwright than Mr.
G. Stuart OgLlvie, a gentleman of financial
standing who may be supposed to fall within
Mr. Brookfield's category of " the literati of
the Stock Exchange." He has given us
"Hypatia"at the Haymarket, "The Sin
of St. Hulda " at the Shaftesbury, and now
"The White Knight" at Terry's, whQe
other plays from his pen are announced for
production by Mr. John Hare and Miss
Olga Nethersole. But, so far, the vital
spark is curiously absent from Mr. OgQvie's
luays. They are carefully written ; they
show evidence of culture and literary taste.
Somehow, nevertheless, the dramatic feel-
ing which must possess the soul of their
author fails to find adequate expression.
It does not carry beyond the footlights, in
which respect it resembles the passion of
the amateur actor who, surcharged with
sentiment, fails to impress his audience for
lack of the special histrionic gift. Tho
same defect which was noticeable in Mr.
OgUvie's poetic plays reappears in "The
White Knight" — a comedy which he has
written round the personality of Mr. Edward
Terry ; and there it is all the more remark-
able, seeing that the story is laid in those
financial and commercial spheres with which
the author may be supposed to bo specially
acquainted.

268

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 6, 1898.

In this instance, perhaps, Mr. Ogilvie
has unduly handicapped himself. He has
chosen for his play the business motive which
hitherto, and in more expert hands than his,
has failed to find acceptance with the public.
This business motive is a perplexing pro-
blem in modem drama. In the city it can be
trusted to excite the keenest passions, but
when transferred to the stage it loses grip,
and becomes feeble and inefEective in com-
parison with the primary passions of love and
jealousy. Money is still as weak an element
in drama as it is in poetry. Why this should
be, considering how important a part it plays
in social life, it is hard to say. But the
experience is not new. In old-fashioned
melodrama it was no uncommon incident that
the hero should take a bimdle of rustling
banknotes out of his escritoire in order to
succour the suffering heroine. But nobody
believed in this financial coup ; a sceptical
smile might always have been observed
playing about the faces of the auditors.
The love making, the hatred, the envy, the
uncharitableness were accepted as real, but
not the banknotes. A few years ago Mr.
Bronson Howard, the popidar American
dramatist, brought to the Avenue Theatre a
play called "The Henrietta," dealing with
the dramatic aspects of mining speculation —
surely a sufiiciently modem theme. In his
culminating scene, a clicking tape-machine
indicated the rise and fall of the fortunes of
the dramatis persona. But the public re-
mained unmoved, and the play, cleverly
written though it was, proved a failure. A
still more striking example of the hollow-
ness of the business motive was presented
not long afterwards at the Haymarket in a
play entitled "Agatha Tylden, Merchant
and Shipowner," by Mr. Edward Eose.
Agatha Tylden was a woman of business,
and from first to last business was the
theme of the play. Shipping, rates of
exchange, promissory notes, balance sheets
and bankruptcies were the burden of the
dialogue. At the end of the third act a
long-waited-for love-scene was found to be
interwoven with the question of a mislead-
ing statement of accounts ; while in the
fourth and last there was less stress laid
upon the heroine's acceptance of marriage
than upon her escape from the necessity of
offering her creditors so much in the pound.
Needless to say, "Agatha Tylden" failed
to impress the public favourably. To the
City man it must have savoured much more
of "shop" than of drama in the ordinary
sense of the term, while the uncommercial
spectator probably felt that the issues
involved in the story properly belonged to
the domain of the chartered accountant.
Both Mr. Pinero and Mr. Henry Arthur
Jones, in touching upon " business " as
they did in "The Squire" and "The
Middleman," took care to vitalise it with a
love motive of the accepted pattern.

This important precaution Mr. Ogilvie
has neglected in " The White Knight, ' ' where
we are invited to interest ourselves solely in
the fortunes of the Electric White Lead
Company, Limited, and of the inventor, one
Edward Pennycuick, whose patents axe
exploited by a company-promoter, rejoicing
in the name of Eook. Mr. Terry plays the

inventor, a flighty enthusiast who readily
falls into the toils of the financial villain.
At first all goes swimmingly with the
Electric White Lead Company, Limited, and
familiar types of the incompetent director
are presented by Mr. Stuart Champion and
Mr. A. E. George, as the titled nincompoop
and the irascible Major-General. Rook
himself is a realistic study by Mr. Abingdon,
Loves proves a negligeable quantity in the
drama. To be sure, room is foimd in the
cast for Miss Kate Eorke, as a young widow
devoted to the crack-brained inventor of the
new white lead process, and for Miss Esme
Berenger as a quasi-Italian adventuress,
with whom Eook has had intimate relations.
But business is the backbone of the piece,
and as in " Agatha Tylden," the great scene
is an angry meeting of shareholders resolved
upon liquidation. At first the shares of the
Electric White Lead Company promise to
go to a figure at which Eook wUl be able to
" unload " with advantage ; but the invention
is abortive, or, at least, too costly to be
workable, and liquidation supervenes. This
the inventor would stave off if he could,
because he has discovered the detail in his
process required to render it practicable ;
but Eook is a wrecker, and has his eye
upon fresh rights and royalties. What
should the ending to such a story be?
Mr. Ogilvie has bethought him of the happy
ending which is de rigmur in ordinary drama.
Eook is foiled in his nefarious schemes, and
the inventor, after a prolonged period of
misfortune, makes £50,000, with which he
generously recoups the shareholders of the
liquidated company who had believed in him.

Heee, surely, the note of "modernity"
is struck (the last-mentioned circumstance
possibly excepted), that quality so highly
prized in the society novel and the fashionable
sermon. And yet it wholly fails to impress
the theatrical public. People seem to be lack-
ing in the power of make-believe on the stage
where financial interests are concerned. A
meeting of angry shareholders denouncing a
patentee who has failed them ought to be as
powerful a factor, dramatically, as the stage
crowd which at Her Majesty's Theatre shouts
with Mark Antony, and vows vengeance
upon the " honourable men " who have
assassinated Caesar. Is it a question of
drilling or stage management? The con-
sistent failure of the business motive in
drama points to deeper causes, the existence
of which a born dramatist like Mr. Henry
Arthur Jones instinctively feels, though he
may not be able to diagnose them. For
in some respects "The White Knight"
bears a remarkable affinity to "The Middle-
man." Both are concerned with an en-
thusiastic and single-minded inventor, strug-
gling, in the one case, with a rascally
company promoter, and, in the other, with
a blood - sucking commercial agent. But
whereas Mr. Ogilvie adheres to business,
Mr. Henry Arthur Jones skilfully shunts this
into a siding, and plays a variation upon
the old, old story which agitated the minds
of men before syndicates and Stock Ex-
change quotations were heard of. Is it
the lack of "female interest" that tells
against the business motive? So excellent a
judge of dramatic effect as the late John

Oxenford was wont to declare that no pky
could achieve success which did not appeal to
women. But then in " Agatha Tylden " it
was a woman who was involved in the tangle
of commercial and financial interests. I am
afraid it must be owned that by " female
interest" is meant the love interest and
nothing else. To that, no class of the com-
munity is indifferent. Perhaps "The White
Knight " would obtain the desired effect with
an audience of stockbrokers and City men,
who would find it as " shoppy " in tone as a
financial newspaper. Upon one feature of
his work Mr. Ogilvie is to be congratulated.
He has furnished Mr. Terry with a character
after his own heart, that of the inventor
Pennycuick — impulsive, extravagant, bois-
terous, with faults of head in plenty, but
none of heart. J. F. N.

CORRESPONDENCE.

ZUMMEEZET ZONG.

Sib, — I had not seen Mr. Quiller Couch's
destructive criticism of my native language
(or dialect) and literature tiU I was blighted
by it in a note in the Academy. The verses
in oddly spelled English, by Mr. Barnes,
have ever seemed to me deplorably tedious ;
that, however, is my own affair. I need
not read them, and nobody can make me
do so. The question of dialect is another
question. As far as I have studied Mr.
Barnes, he spells "summer" " zummer,"
and that is the essence of dialect as written
by him. Let us keep our tempers, and ask
whether Mr, Barnes's dialect is anything
but ordinary English queerly spelled, and,
no doubt, queerly pronounced ? Phonetic-
ally, Zummerzetese may be interesting, but
I confess to being much more interested in
dialects that preserve words and phrases
which modem English has lost. The dialect
of Scotland does preserve such words and
phrases in large numbers. If Zummerzetese
does so, too, do manus, it is more interesting
than I had gathered from a study, by no means
prolonged or elaborate, of the works of Mr.
Barnes. I own that I do not see how all this
is affected by Mr. Quiller Couch's exercises
in Scots, which is very good Scots for 8'
beginner. I make him my compliment. You
see, we Scots called our language "Enghsh"
at least as late as 1460, though, in 1560, we
called it " Scots," and distinguished it
from " English." Our language, or dialect,
possesses a considerable literature — between
Barbour and Bums, a space of four hundred
years. We are not unreasonably proud of
that literature, and we do not rate it on a
level with the literature of Zummerzet.
Our dialect, or language, as you will, is
rich, I repeat, in words which the Britisli
journalist believes to be " the language- of
Ossian." These words are old English,
which our dialect has preserved ; or French,
derived from the Ancient League ; or Gaehc,
borrowed from our Celtic neighbours. These
latter words are few. But the three kinds
of words — old English, French, GaeHc— and
the circumstance that we have a literature
five or six hundred years old, do, I fancy,

March 5, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

269

make a distinction between Scots and the
Zummerzetese of Mr. Barnes, which is
ordinary English misspelled. Of course, if
Zummerzetese is rich in old English words,
lost by modem English, and in Celtic words
derived from Wales, and if Zummerzet has
poets like Dunbar and Barbour and
Lyndsay and King James, I withdraw my
remarks. Scots and Zummerzetese, in that
case, are on a level of excellence, and I
shall please myself by perusing the Zum-
merzet Barbour, King James, and Dunbar.
But not Barnes ! — I am, &c.,

St. Andrews : Eeb. 26. A. li&SQ.

MORE EEMAEKS ON "JULIUS

C^SAE."

Sir, — I am filled with respectful admira-
tion at the skill with which Mr. Tree, in
his "Apology for ' Julius Ceesar ' " in the
Academy of last week, begs the whole
jquestion at issue between us. Mr. Tree,
il imderstand, justifies his method of acting
lAntony and presenting the play as a
jsuccessful attempt to " command the support
of the public at large," while he refers
:ontemptuously to those learned amateur
ocieties who present Shakespeare "in such
I way as to commend him to the few while
boring the many." In fact, says Mr.
Cree, " it is the business of the manager to
present Shakespeare in such a way as to
«mmend him to the many," and he implies
hat I dissent entirely from this view.
This ia a misconception. Mr. Tree and
agree that Shakespeare must be presented
n such a way as to attract the playgoing
lublic. We do not agree as to how this
hould be done. Mr. Tree apparently con-
iiders that it should be done — in "Julius
'eesar" — by cutting out a certain number
f by no means imimportant scenes, in order
lat other scenes may be unduly protracted,
y tiresome by-play such as poor Csesar's
lood-red roses, by an over-emphasised and
)o slow delivery of blank verse, and by
le pauses and postures and other time-
asting expedients which delay the end
- the Her Majesty's Act I. and the famous
ration in Act II. I consider not merely
lat these things are bad art, but that
Puhlic does not want them. It is, of
lurse, a matter of opinion, and in such
atters no proof is possible, but my
slief is that the popularity of the
•esent production at Her Majesty's is in
ite of these faults, not because of them,
Mr. Tree seems to think. I believe that
e public — the "many" for whom Mr.
•ee has to cater — would rather have
Julius Ciesar" played in its entirety, that
jey would both like and understand it
jitter so played, and that it coidd be given
\ three hours practically without cuts if the
ating were less mannered, the delivery of
l|e verse simpler and more rapid, and the

!pfirlluous ingenuities of by-play omitted,
•esented in this way the play would gain
coherence and intelligibility, and, as I
ink, in popularity also.
jFurther, I believe that the Public, in
aShakespearian performance, likes to see
tp actor-manager subordinate himself to
tb play, not the play subordinated to the
stor-manager. In presenting "Trilby,"
«. Tree very wisely concentrated the whole

attention of his audiences upon himself.
The play was nothing, and the only thing
worth seeing was Mr. Tree's Svengali.
But "Julius Cffisar" is not "Trilby," and
what was legitimate actor management in
the one is absurd in the other.

Lastly, I believe that the Public, in a
Shakespearian performance, wants to hear
Shakespeare's blank verse spoken simply
and straightforwardly, with some perception
of rhythm. Mr. Tree, on the contrary,
judging from his Antony, seems convinced
that the public wants nothing of the kind.
In fact, he disguises his blank verse so
cunningly that it sounds like nothing so
much as very halting prose. This, like so
much in the performance, strikes me as
somewhat wasted cleverness.

St. John Hankin.

A PASSAGE BY E. L. S.

Sir, — I shall be obliged if you will kindly
print the full quotation from Stevenson's
essay for the benefit of Mr. E. L. Cunliff,
who objects to my interpretation :

" Honesty was the rule ; the innkeepers gave,
as I have said, almost unlimited credit ; they
suffered the seediest painter to depart, to take
all his belongings, and to leave his biU unpaid ;
and if they sometimes lost, it was by English
and Americans alone (the italics are mine)."

In the second paragraph, describing tixe
interference of an Anglo-Saxon on behalf of
fair play, Stevenson adds : " The French-
man marvelled at the scruples of his guest,
and when that defender of universes retired
over-seas, and left his bills unpaid, he
marvelled once again." It is clear from the
entire page that Stevenson himself concurs
both in the reputation of dishonesty and in
the reputation of a lack of fair play. —
I am, &c.,

Your Paris Correspondent.

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.

" The Making The critics have found this
^ a Prig." novel rather a hard nut to
8han>'^ crack. They recognise Miss
Sharp's cleverness, her bright-
ness of dialogue, and her "facile, unpre-
tentious " style. But exactly what Miss
Sharp would be at in The Making of a Prig
they are not sure. The Saturday Revietd's
critic wrestles throughout a column and a
half with the problem, and in trying to
search its obscurity is himself obscure. But
the purport of his criticism may be gathered
from the following paragraph, in which
he complains of the manner in which Kitty
(the " prig ") is presented to the reader :

" All the time we are endeavouring to under-
stand why it is that she [Kitty] shovdd prove,
one way or another, impossible. Miss Sharp
gives us Kitty when she is alone, and so we
came to know her and her fine qualities ; the
intention of the book is to show how, with her
good looks, her siacerity, her gaiety, her
intelligence, she yet proves a failure all round,
unacceptable, not only to the two men, but
also to the majority of the girls with whom
she Uves. It is, therefore, their feeUngs, not
hers, that need to be forced upon the reader —

especially as she is the most outspoken of
creatures, and her own lips will for the most
part save us and the author the trouble of
probing into her mind. Time enough to get
back to her and see her from the inside when
she comes to realise with surprise that she is
imacceptable, convicted by a very various jury
on the one charge of priggishness. The author,
we imagine, had a complete understanding of
the girl ; but if she also saw the man against
whom Kitty was to display herself — saw him
vividly, and knew him thoroughly from the
inside — she made the mistake of being too
brief. She might safely have gone on for
another half-dozen chapters, painting the rela-
tions between the two, piling up the varied
mass of enlipjhtening and convincing details ;
for it is not likely that an author with so com-
mendable s dislike to abstract explanations
would prove too lengthy in the display of so
difficult a trouble."

The Spectator's reviewer seems to think
that Miss Sharp intended the "Prig" to
be, not Kitty, but the barrister Paul
Wilton, and that Kitty's priggishness is his
[the reviewer's] own discovery :

"It is not Paul WUton who is the prig, but
Katharine, apparently because, out of sheer
gmlelessness and ignorance of the code of
society, she suffered herself to be led into a
compromising situation and thought none the
worse of herself for so doing. But perhaps we
do Miss Sharp an injustice, and her story is
intended as a delicate satire on the selfishness
of men. In that ease, we fear that the subtlety
of her method will have defeated her aim.
As the story stands, the average reader will
certainly regard it as glorifying rather than
depreciating priggishness of a very acute type."

Literature says :

"The chief fault we have to find with the
book is iu its title. Katharine is not a prig in
the ordinary sense, nor does her story describe
the manufacture of a prig, even in the sense
which Miss Sharp appears to give to the word.
She is a clever girl, natural and frankly affec-
tionate, who, partly from her training, partly
from her temperament, fails to realise tlie
requirements of Mrs. Grundy. This deficiency
seems to arise from the natural naivete of her
character rather than from any social theory or
intellectual conceit. There is, indeed, a certain
self-content, an unconscious assumption that
she could do nothing wrong which partakes of
what might perhaps be termed moral priggish-
ness. But we become so fond of her that we
fully sympathise with her protest against
being branded with so opprobrious a term ;
and as she reveals her character in the first
page of the book, it is difficult to see where the
' making ' comes in. Miss Sharp has written
a good story, but she has not described the
making of a prig."

The Standard's critic emphasises what the
other critics concede — the brightness aaid
cleverness of the story ; and he quotes with
enjoyment the following " up-to-date love-
letter" which Kitty receives from her un-
successful boy lover.

" By the time you get this I shall have
cleared out. I may be an infernally rotten ass,
but I won't let the best girl in the world marry
me out of kindness, and that is aU you were
going to do. I tried to think you were a little
keen on me a few weeks ago ; but, of course, I
was wrong. Don't mind me. I shall come up
smiling again after a bit. It was just like my
poorness to think I could ever marry any one so
clever and spry as yourself. Of course you

270

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 5, 1898.

will buck up and marry some played-out
literary chap, who will gas about books and
things all day and make you happj'. Good old
Kit, it has been a mistake all along, hasn't it ?
When I come back we will be chums again,
won't we ? I am oif to Melbourne in the
morning, and shall travel about for a year, I
think. You might write to me — the jolly sort
of letters you used to write. Monty knows all
my movements."

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, March 3.
THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

A Book of Psalms. Eendered into English
Verse by the late Arthur Trevor Jebb, M. A.
George Allen.

The Modern Eeader's Bible : St. Matthew
AND St. Maek, and the General
EnsTLES. Macmillau & Co. 2s. Gd.

An Examination op the Chahqe or Apos-
tasy AGAINST WoiiDSwoRTH. By William
Hale White. Longmans, Green & Co.
3s. «d.

A Dictionary of the Bible : Dealing with
ITS Language, Literature, and Con-
tents, including the Biblical Theo-
logy. Edited by James Hastiues, M.A.,
D D. T. & T. Clark. Vol. I. 28s.

Discipline and Law : Some Lenten Ad-
dresses. By H. Honsley Hensou, D.D.
Methuen & Co. 2s.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

A Memoir of Major-General Sir Henry
Creswicke Rawlinson. By George Raw-
liuson, M.A. Longmans, Green & Co.

Twelve Naval Captains: being a Record
OF Certain Americans who Made Them-
selves Immortal. By Molloy Elliot
Seawoll. Kegan Paul.

Records of Old Times : Historical, Social,
Political, Sporting, and Agricultural.
By J. Kersley Fowler ("Rusticiis").
Chatto & Windus.

A History of France from the Earliest
Times to the Fall of the Second
Empire in 1870. By W. H. Jervis, M.A.
A new edition revised and in great part
re-written by Arthur Hassall, M.A. John
Miuray.

Brief Lives, chiefly of Contemporaries,
Set Down by John Aubrey, between
the Years IfiCii) and ICOIi. Edited from
the Authors' MSS. by Andrew CJark. 2
vols. Clarendon Press.

The Antiquities and Curiosities of the
Exchequer. By Hubert Hall, F.S.A.
Elliot Stock.

Semitic Influence in Hellenic Mythology :
WITH Special Reference to the Recent
Mythological Works of the Rt. Hon.
Pkof. F. Max Muller and Mr. Andrew
Lang. By Robert Brown, Jun., F.S.A.
Williams & Norgate. 7s. 6d.

Notes from a Diary, 1873—1881. By the
Right Hon. Sir Mount-Stuart E. Grant
Duff. 2 vols. John Murray. 13s.

The Story of the Nations Series: the
Franks. By Lewis Sergeant. T. Fisher
Unwin. os.

The Life of the Rev. James Morison, D.D.
By William Adamson, D.D. Hodder &
Stoughton. 7s. 6d.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRES.

Short Histories of the Literatures of
the World: a History of Italian
Literature. By Richard Gamett, C.B.
Wm. Heinemann. 68.

The Bases of DEsiair. By Walter Crane.
George Bell & Sons. 18s.

EssAis DE Critique Drama tique: George
Sand, Musset, Feuillet, Augiek, Dumas
FiLS. By Antoine Benoist. Librairie,
Hachette et Cie. (Paris).

Songs of England. By Alfred Austin. Mac-
millan & Co. Is.

The Iliads of Homer. Translated according
to the Greek. By George Chapman. 2
vols. Is. 6d. each.

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

The Records of the Borough of Northamp-
ton. Edited by Christopher A. Markham,
F.S.A., and Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D.
Published by order of the Corporation of
the County Borough of Northampton,
1898.

Side-lights on Siberia. By James Yoimg
Simpson. Wm. Blackwood & Sons. 16s.

The Gentleman's Magazine Library :
Enolish Topography (Shropshire —
Somersetshire). Edited by P. A. Milne,
M.A. Elliot Stock.

British Columbia for Settlers : its Mines,
Trade, and Agriculture. By Frances
Macuab. Chapman & Hall.

Java, the Garden of the East. By Eliza
Rahamah Scidmore. T. Fisher Unwin.

78. 6d.

Travels in the Coastlands of British
East Africa and the Islands of
Zanzibar and Pemba : their Agricul-
tural Resources and General Charac-
teristics. By William Walter Augustine
Fitzgerald. Chapman & Hall. 288.

Through South Africa. By Henry M.
Stanley, M.P. Sampson Low. 2s. 6d.

EDUCATIONAL.

Bracebridge Hall. Edited, with Notes, by
John D. Colclough. Browne & Nolan
(Dublin).

University Tutorial Series : — Ovid : Meta-
morphoses, Book XIV. Edited by A. H.
Allcroft, M.A., and B. J. Hayes, M.A.
Is. 6d. General Elementary Science.
Edited by William Briggs, M.A. W. B.
Clive.

MISCELLANEOUS.

DiCTIONNAIRE DE SlANG ET D'ExPRESSIONS

FAMiLiiiREs Anglaises. Par C. Legras.
Gamier Preres (Paris).

Bohemian Papers. By George Byre-Todd.
Morison Brothers (Glasgow). Is.

The Miner's Arithmetic and Mensuration.
By Henry Davies. Chapman & Hall.

A Sketch of the Natural History (Verte-
brates) OF THE British Islands. By
F. G. Aflalo, F.Z.S. With illustrations.
Wm. Blackwood & Sons. 6s. net.

The Lirerty and Free Soil Parties in
THE North-West. Toppau Prize Essay
of 1896. By Theodore Clarke Smith, Ph.D.
Longmans, Green & Co. 7s. 6d.

The Literary Year-Book, 1898. Edited
by Joseph Jacobs. George Allen. 3s. 6d.

In reply to a Manchester correspondent,
who does not give us a proper postal
address, the Norwegian Grammar and Reader,
by Julius G. Olson, which we recently
catalogued, is published by Scott, Foresman
& Co., of Chicago.

NOTES ON NEW EDITIONS.
A NEW edition of Jervis's The StudenW
France (John Murray) is now available.
The book has been thoroughly revised and
re-vrritten by Mr. Arthur Hassall and Mr. P.
Haverfield ; and at a time when Fran.ce ig
the " cynosure of neighbouring eyes," this
text-book may well find readers outside of
schools and colleges.

Washington Irving' s Bravehridge Hall is
not, we fancy, much read nowadays ; but the
Dublin firm of Messrs. Browne & Nolan
have just issued it as a school reading-book,
with the usual equipments of notes, critical
introduction, and glossary. The editor, Mr.
John D. Colclough, lays stress on the
liumour of these sketches, and his aim has
been to bring it home fully to boys and
girls. He writes :

" The notes to this edition are intended to be
suggestive, not exhaustive, agreeably to the
spirit of Irving's book, which is a series of
essays for laughter-loving boys and girls, and
not a collection of treatises for solemn-faced
pundits."

Mr. John C. Nimmo's edition of The
Spectator has reached its fifth volume, to
which is prefixed a portrait of Thomas
Tickell.

Messrs. Longmans' Annual Charitun
Register and Digest for 1898 is before us.
As far as possible all fraudulent institutions
and societies have been excluded from the
Eegister, but the entry of any g^ven
charitable institution does not constitute a
recommendation of its methods. " Short
practical introductions, written by persons
thoroughly conversant with particular
branches of charitable work, have been
inserted before several of the more im-
portant sections ; and these the reader
will find, it is hoped, suggestive when he
is trying to deal with a particular case, or
endeavouring to find a suitable agency."

The " Gentleman's Magazine Library" is
extended by the addition this week of a
volume of topographical extracts from the
Gentleman's Magazine relating to Shropshire
and Somersetshire. Mr. Laurence Gonune,
who edits the series, remarks tliat these two
counties appear to have been of more than
usual interest to the reader of the Genth-
man's Magazine. Mr. Gomme writes :

" Domestic architecture, which has been so
much neglected by archsEologists, is well re-
presented in this volume. . . . Family history
is particularly well represented, and tic
genealogist will find a vast amount of material
for which he would have had to search perhaps
in vain in the original."

THE MOST NUTRITIOUS.

E P P S'S

GRATEFUL-COMFORTING.

COCOA

BREAKFAST AND SUPPER-

Mauch -5. 1898 1

THE ACADEMY.

271

MESSRS. BELL'S NEW BOOKS.

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Bound in buckram, with

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THE BASES of DESIGN. Bv Walter Crane.

Cluswick Press. With 200 Illustrations, many drawn by the Author

specially designed Cover and End Pajiers.
Contents .-—I. Of the Architectural Basis— 11. Of the Utility Basis and Influence— III. Of the Influence
of Material and Method— IV. Of the Influence of Conditions in Design— V. Of the Climatic Influence in
Design : chiefly in regard to Colour and Pattern— VI. Of the Racial Influence in Design— VII. Of the
Symbolic Influence, or Emblematic Element in Design— VIII. Of the Grapliic Influence, or Naturalism
in Design— IX. Of the Individual Influence in Design— X. Of the Collective Influence in Design.

Crown 8vo, Ss. 6d.

ELEMENTARY BOTANY. By Percy Groom, M.A. (Cantab, et

Oxon.), F.L.S., Examiner in Botany to the University of Oxford. With 275 Illustrationa.

Large Svo, 12s. 6d.

DICTIONARY of the FRENCH and ENGLISH LANGUAGES

(French-English and English-French). By F. E. A. GASC. A Now Edition (the Eighth), Revised,
Enlarged, and Reset from beginning to end. 960 pages, in treble columns, bound in half-buckram.

VOL. v., IN TWO PARTS.

GREGOROVIUS' HISTORY of the CITY of ROME in the

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Edited by GLEESON WHITE and E. F. STRANGE.
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./ANTERBURY. By Haktley Withers. Second Edition, Eev-ised. 36 Illustrations.
jSALISBURY. By Gleesox White. Second Edition, Eevised. 50 Illustrations.
|'S£ST£R. By Charles Hiatt. 24 Illustrations.
ilOOHESTER. By G. H. Palmer, B.A. 38 lUustrations.
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pXBTER. By Percy Addleshav, B.A. 3o Illustrations.

Winchester. By p. w. sergeaxt. so illustrations.

SICHFIELD. By A. B. Clifton. 39 Illustrations.

■QRWICH. By C. H. B. Quennell. 38 lUustrations.

ETERBOROUGH By Eev. W. D. Sweetino, M.A. 51 Illustrations. [March 7.

iBREFOBD. By A. Hug n Fisher. 40 Illustrations. [March 21.

" Visitor.^ to the cathedral cities of England must often have felt the need of some work dealinp: with the history and
jtiquities of , the city itself and the architecture and associations of the cathedral, more portable than the elaborate
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1 more copious thau the section devoted to them in the general Ruide-book of the county or diRtricc. Such a legitimate
3d the ' Catheilral Series,' now beina issued by Messrs. George Bell & Sous, under the editorship of Mr. Gleeson White
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NEW BOOK BY MB. STANLEY WEYMAN.

SHREWSBURY: a Romance of the

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"A romance that will stand by 'The Gentleman of
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" Mr. Weyman styles his new book simply a romance,
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THE LAST ROMANCE OP THE LATE
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LONGMAN'S

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-Price SixPKKCi.

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LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.,
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272

THE ACADEMY.

[Maech 5, 1898.

MESSRS. C. ARTHUR PEARSON'S AMOUNCEMENTS,

" LAHER-DAY

^TORIES."

Under this title a New Series of
Novels by well-known Authors is
in preparation for issue Monthly,
with Portraits.

Each Volume will he well printed, on
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Price 2s. 6dm eachm

VOLUME I.

MISS BETTY.

BRAM STOKER,

Author of " Dracula."

The World. — "A very charming story. Miss
Betty is a figure in fiction to be remembered."

Sheffield Telegraph. — ^" One of the tenderest, most
beautiful love stories we have read for some time."

Scotsman. — " Many wUl consider this the strongest
story the author has yet written."

VOLUME II., JUST PUBLISHED.

VAN WAGENER'S WAYS.

By W. L. ALDEN, Author of "His
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cloth cover. With Portrait.

Professor Van Wagener is an elderly crank with
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Impracticable inventions.

WITH PEARY NEAR the POLE. By Eivind Astrup. Il]u.strat(

with Sketches and Photographs by the Author. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, gUt top, lOs. M. {Shi.rtty
Mr. Astrup was a great personal friend of Lieut. Peary, and accompanied that intrepid pioneer <m
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has devoted himself to giving us a vivid picture of the adventures that befell their parties, of the wond'
ful life they led, the strange animals and the stranger people they encountered.

Forthcoming Volumesm

AN EGYPTIAN COQUETTE.

By CLIVE HOLLAKD, Author of "My
.Japanese "Wife," &c.

IN MALE ATTIRE.

By JOSEPH HATTON, Author of "By
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AN EPISODE IN ARCADY.

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TRINCOLOX.

By DOUGLAS SLADEN, Author of "On
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NEW WORK BY G. F. WRIGHT, D.D.,

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THE INCIDENTAL BISHOP. By Grant Allen, Author of " Wha

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which the victim of a moral problem strives to find a way of escape from his crushing em-iromnent.

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BY ROBERT

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THE ACADEMY.

279

CONTENTS.

EVIEWS :

Zola

Mr. Gissing on Dickens

Not to bo Read at All

Facile Emotions

Agreeable Gossip

Britons Abroad

iiBFKR Mention

1;tion SunXEMENT

^TKS AND News

MLET AND " We BeuLINERs"

Meredith's Ode

AT THE People Read; XI., A WirE. .

E Week

E Book Market

IBE8PONDENCE ..

JK Reviews Reviewed

yKB Keceivkd

Faoe

.. 279
.. 280
.. 281
.. 281
.. 282

-288
280
292
293
293
294
295
295
297
808

REVIEWS.

ZOLA.

tris. By Emile Zola. Translated by
lEmest Alfred Vizetelly. (Loudon :
phatto & Windus.)

7 OLA'S trial and sentence on the eve of the
U publication of Paris is one of those happy
ijidents, a kind of answering signal or
]j'e, by which Life unexpectedly reveals
i' true import of a man's life-work, and
il' exact significance of his figure to his
i. f. When a great writer suddenly leaves
1 lofty and privileged post of vantage, the
J irded window where is conceded to him
1 right of theorising on the life spreading
Jneath him, and when he mixes with the
anrd in the streets, we sometimes have this
ijipy unlooked-for flare from Life itself
Uwering the man — as we see in Hugo's
ij, the Coup (PBlat, his exile, and Les
Ufiimentg answered by Sedan ; and in
C^itoi's Ufe the long search for a moral
wis in Nature, that his novels exhibit, is
ujwered by his personal struggles among
III exploited and famine-stricken peasants
di the crowning- Petersburg society
■elict — Tolstoi is mad. And now in Zola's
. t\ still have with us the shout of the
" Oonspuez Zola," and the buzz of
iltitudinous little men — " Monstrous
, Traitor to France, Suicide as a
' and we await the turn of the

eanwhile, Paris appears before us as a

proclamation of the Zola doctrine, a

e«uiony to the man's laborious honesty

'lio main purpose of his life-work.

comes as a remarkable document to

' ic, as summarising the " naturalistic "

1, and showing more clearly than ever

Utjjuwer and limitations of that " death-

n- e " method in art.

1 the central idea of Pm-is is all the

■WIS of the book. As the essence of

tiJent is his power of drawing strong

I couclusious from the concrete

'■ I lies of his forty note-books, so in Paris

1 I all tlie panorama of the city's life is

in relation to the immense struggle

- :;ig in France between Capitalism and

le l^ocialistic idea. Li Zola's view the

J«|;hist peril is the logical outcome of the

corruption of the national life by the
excessive power placed in the hands of
Capital by the regime of the middle class.
Parliament is at the mercy of financiers
and professional politicians, who use it for
private ends, and thereby corrupt and
weaken the people from top to bottom.
The Panama scandals and the appearance
of Eavachol are as cause and effect ; but
while the people are growing more and
more sick of the vicious circle France is
turning in, Society can give birth to no
new ideal for the nation to work by. Li
science, education, love of justice, and
hatred of sham lies the only hope of Society
towards the fitting reorganisation of its life.

In this development of the central idea
of Paris, Zola, however, has sacrificed every
instinct of the true artist. The novel is a
powerful and clever commentary on life — a
piece of special pleading of great interest —
but it is not life, and it is false to every
principle of art. It is a novel with a
purpose, and it carries out its purpose in
most remorseless fashion. It is not life,
because though Zola has searched for, and
found, typical living figures, he has
made those figures the puppets of his
pre - ordained drama. Thus GuUlaume
Fremont, the hero of the book, the
great ^scientist with Anarchistic leanings,
acts in a manner throughout false to
the life of the actual scientist (well
known to a certain international circle)
who has served Zola for a model. Indeed,
GuiUaumo's final appearance as the avenger
or regenerator of Society by means of his
discovery of a new terrible explosive which
can blow up half a city, or work a motor
engine, is a piece of sheer romanticism,
which, coming in the guise of a minute
study of social phenomena, is inartistic to the
verge of comedy. So also Pierre Froment,
the abbe, who is the horrified spectator of
the public and private antics of deputies.
Bourse jobbers, Anarchists, prime ministers,
journalists and decadents, is merely an
animated lay figure, very conveniently forti-
fied with tours to Lourdes and Home, on his
mission to discover whether Christianity
is, or is not, played out as a regenerative
force in the life of civilisation.

All Zola's characters, in fact, in Paris
are so carefuUy fitted into their limited
spaces, thought-out actions, and manipu-
lated r6les that the very term art can
be applied to the novel only in a
limited and secondary sense. Art is
subordinated in Paris to the position of
a humble servant, who runs to open the
door and usher the characters, big and small,
into the presence of the General Purpose,
the big wirepuller, who in turn frowns at
Art and keeps her severely in her place.
In fact, just as La Dihdcle and Dr. Pascal
were mechanical novels, Pa^is is a mechanical
novel, relieved, as was L^ Argent, by the
presence of a certain animus against corrup-
tion, which animus gives to the book its
vitality and force. The Anarchists in
Paris are figures true oidy to the typical
conditions of their life, they are not true
in themselves, and it is the same with the rest
of the deputies and fashionable people
described; all wear masks very care-
fully modelled and true to the detailed

observation of the clever author who has
seen his people go to and fro in the crowd
of daily Parisian life ; but all is external,
the masks cannot change, there is little or
no inner life, and so the reader is in reality
never deeply stirred by what is shown him
by Zola. He is interested, now a little
moved or a little shocked, just as he would
be if, while looking at a gathering of
living people, a clover man of the world
approached and whispered in his ear con-
fidential secrets and remarkable facts about
everybody's private life. But to go further,
to admit us into the thought, the emotions of
the people themselves is imijossible for Zola.
He stops short of being a great artist ; he has
always his General Plan to substitute for
the mysterious living thing which eludes all
generalisation and abstraction and theory,
which glides away and vanishes under the
fingers of the writers who are not content
to give up their plan of observation, and
simply follow life in its minutest mani-
festation and ceaseless evolution. Zola is
not a great artist : he is a groat writer,
a very different thing. And his greatness
consists in his intensely concentrated point
of view, and his courage to execute what
he sees.

His courage to execute what he sees ! That
is the very quality which has brought him at
different times into sharp collision with the
bourgeoisie of England and France. Admit-
ting that Zola has " an original taint," as a
great writer has expressed it, his power on
his age has lain in his unflinching deter-
mination to exhibit and analyse all in
modern life which Society endeavours to
veil. Just as his coarse, crude, generalised
pictures of life originally laid bare the
rottenness of the Third Empire, so his
action in the Dreyfus case has lately revealed
the amazing power which the official
pontiffs and military mandarins wield over
an excited and hysterical France. But his
courage to see and speak against the con-
ventions and prejudices of French society
touching justice, whUe deservedly applauded
in England at the present day, was precisely
what led English society only a few years
back to imprison his luckless EngUsh pub-
lisher ! The English view, that to exhibit the
corruption of sexual morality is corruption
itself, is pretty nearly balanced by the
French view — that to exhibit the weakness
of military justice is to be false to all
traditions of patriotism. At bottom the
two views are very similar : the English
hate to have sexual morality examined at
all ; the French detest a man who casts a
slur on their military glory. In both cases
Society accuses the author of " corrupting "
it, while he seeks only to show forth the
corruption he has seen. And suddenly a
significant flare from Life itself reveals the
attitude of the man towards Society, and of
Society towards the man.

"We well remember an amusing little
scene, between Zola and the English crowd,
which we witnessed at the Guildhall some
years ago. Zola was being lionised and
feted by a crowd of three thousand English
citizens who cordially detested the great
writer's books. The good bourgeoisie, the
upholders of all the public and private
moralities, were flocking round the French*

280

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 12, 1898.

man in pressing, curious crowds, whispering
loudly: "That's he! That's the man," all
anxious to catch sight of such an immoral
writer. Zola turned his back deliberately
on those excellent citizens, and gazed steadily
with an interested air at the ceiling ! He
knew them, and he knew what they thought
of him ! At the present moment we have
the rival bourgeoisie pelting the same man's
doors with filth, and imprisoning him and
his publisher together. Meanwhile, our
English press and public solemnly applaud
the great writer. But in both cases the
imprisonment was meted out for the same
offence — it was for the telling of incon-
venient truths.

ME. GISSINa ON DICKENS.

Charles Dickens. By George Gissing. " Vic-
torian Era Series." (Blackie.)

The inteUigent reader will not be surprised
to find Mr. Gissing making his bow, for the
first time, as a critic and a critic of fiction.
The author of New Grub Street has always
shown himself preoccupied with art as well
as life. His own creative method has been
a conscious one, deliberately pursued, and
from time to time he has let us see that the
problems which the choice of a method
inevitably raises are not without their con-
siderable interest for him. Criticism has
peeped out through the novels. The
present book, however, is criticism pure and
simple. Subject to the general plan of the
" Victorian Era Series," which was intended
to include in its record of the age " the life-
work of its typical and influential men," it
was probably open to Mr. Gissing to deal
with his subject much as he pleased : and
he has chosen to treat it mainly after the
fashion of a " critical study," subordinating
biography, except in so far as biography was
necessary to formulate the conditions under
which Dickens worked. We may as well
say at once that Mr. Gissing's first essay in
criticism seems to us quite unusually suc-
cessful. He has, of course, something to
learn. It would, perhaps, have been wiser,
for instance, to have planned the book as a
study in development, and to have avoided
such an arbitrary arrangement of material and
topics as the division under aspects, which he
actually adopts, makes necessary. " Charac-
terisation," " Satiric Portraiture," " Women
and Children " : these are the titles of
three successive chapters, and it is a fine
object-lesson in tautology and cross-division
that they imply. And Mr. Gissing has, un-
fortunately, to struggle against a somewhat
jerky and rough-hewn style, full of im-
perfectly related clauses and uglinesses of
speech, which, if it does something to mar
his novels, is to our mind even more
offensive in a critical work. It is the lack
of these two qualities, the architectural
sense and the sense of the beautiful and the
appropriate in language, that alone prevent
Mr. Gissing's book from belonging to the
first rank of critical literature. Neverthe-
less, Mr. Gissing's is thoroughly good
criticism ; primarily because it is the
criticism of an expert, and an expert who

has approached his subject at once with
complete sympathy and with a clear percep-
tion of the very vital differences of method
between his own work and that which he is
examining. Mr. Gissing is by no means of
Dickens's school ; yet one feels that he writes
of Dickens out of profound admiration and
exhaustive knowledge ; he has soaked him-
self in Dickens, and what he has to say is
said at first-hand, without much reference to
conventional criticisms.

It is, of course, precisely the difference in
methods and ideals between critic and
criticised that gives the performance its
chief interest. Dickens and Mr. Gis-
sing have just enough in common to
make their essential divergence the more
remarkable. The younger writer, like
the older, finds his material mainly in
the crowded life of the modem city, and
mainly in those strata of city life which are
formed by the so-called lower and middle
classes. Yet between them there is a great
gulf fixed. Since Dickens, the novelist has
discovered that his work, too, is an art ; he
has become self-conscious ; has set an
austere ideal before him. In Dickens, as in
the average novel-writer of his day, this
development had hardly taken place. If he
was self-conscious of anything, it was of
a mission, rather than an art. In Mr.
Gissing, on the other hand, through tem-
perament and through training, the modem
spirit finds very characteristic expression.
His natural attitude to his material is that
of a realism which to Dickens would have
seemed uncalled for and undesirable. Mr.
Gissing, however, is not so pre-occupied
with his own methods as to be unable to
enter with the requisite detachment into
those of his predecessor; his discussion of
Dickens's veracity is a fine as well as a
searching piece of analysis.

The common objection of readers brought
up in the modem school to Dickens is
certainly his " unreality " ; and this in
face of the fact that he clearly regarded
himself as a painter of real life :

" Had the word been in use he must
necessarily have called himself a EeaUst. It is
one of the biographical commonplaces con-
cerning Dickens. Everyone knows how he
excited himself over his writing, how he
laughed and cried over his imaginary people,
how he had all but made himself iU with grief
over the deat-hbed of little Nell or of Paul
Dombey."

Even his grotesques — Quilp, Mantalini,
Sam Weller — are intended for transcripts
from real life, transcripts of its eccentrics.
They are not acknowledged figments of the
poetic imagination, like Don Quixote or the
White Knight. Dickens's world is not con-
fessedly a dream - world, or a world of
romance. And yet with realism, as we
now regard realism, the whole thing has
patently nothing to do. In explaining this,
Mr. Gissing would distinguish. The tme
"unreality" of a Dickens is an unreality
of incident and plot. He is an incorrigible
sentimentalist, who will never refuse to
gladden his readers with a happy ending :

" Ah, those final chapters of Dickens ! How
eagerly they are read by the young, and with
what a pleasant smile by elders who prize the
good things of literature ! No one is forgotten,

and many an imsuspected bit of happiness calb
aloud for gratitude to the author. Do you
remember Mr. MeU, the underpaid and bullied'
usher in David Copperfield — the poor, bruken-
spirited fellow whose boots will not bear
another mending — who uses an hour of liberty
to visit his mother in the almshouse, and
gladden her heart by piping sorry music on his
flute ? We lose sight of him, utterly ; knowing
only that he has been sent about his business
after provoking the displeasure of the insolent
lad Steerforth. Then, do you remember how,
at the end of the book, David ' has news
from Austraha, delicious news about Mr.
Micawber, and Mr. Gummidge, and sundry
other people, and how in reading the colonial
paper he suddenly comes upon the name of Dr.
Melt, a distinguished man at the Antipodes :
Who so stubborn a theorist that the kindly fig-
ment of the imagination does not please liim :
Who would prefer to learn the cold fact that
Mell, the rejected usher, sank from stage tc
stage of wretchedness and died— uncertaiD
which — in the street or the workhouse ? "

Mr. Gissing, one gathers, would find the
roots of this tendency in Dickens in the fact
that Dickens's public liked happy endinp.
and that Dickens never conceived it to be
his business to do other than gratify them
"In this respect a pure democrat, k
believed, probably without ever reflecting
upon it, that the approval of the people was
necessarily the supreme in art." Nor was
he in this doing violence to his own feelings
He shared to the fuU the preferences anc
the prejudices of his public. By tempera-
ment he was himself a genial optimist
"Nature made him the mouthpiece of hii
kind, in all that relates to simple emotioDf
and homely thought." Mr. Gissing migh'
have added here, that he had the theatrica
instinct, as it is understood at the Adelphi
strongly developed. It is surely the sam(
order of ideas to which belongs the melo
dramatic tragedy of BUI Sikes or Jonai
Chuzzlewit that infallibly turns the con-
clusion of every novel into the semblance o;
a Christmas-card.

Artificial and sentimental as Dickens't
plots may be, Mr. Gissing does not inclinf
to find the same qualities in his characteri
sation. Exceptions must be made : 8om(
of Dickens's characters remain shadowy
others, in particular the villains and othe!
persons of strong passions, faO to convince
but for the great bidk Mr. Gissing woulc
claim veracity in the highest sense. Thej
are idealised, of course ; in the lower sense.
by the omission of features the contemplatioi
of which would have been painful mike fx
the novelist and to his readers. To matcl
Dickens's idealism 'at its best, Mr. Gissing
would go to the creator of Falstaff anc
Dame Quickly and Juliet's Nurse. Taki
Mrs. Gamp, idealised, in every sense, other-
wise she had been intolerable, but with th(
essential wonderfully retained.

" Vulgarity he leaves, that is of the es8enc(
of the matter ; vidgarity unsurpassable is U"
note of Mrs. Gamp. Vileness, on the othei
hand, becomes grotesquerie, wonderfully con-
verted into a subject of laughter. Her speech
the basest ever heard from human tongue, by i
process of infinite subtlety, which leaves it un
same, yet not the same, is made an endlw.'
amusement, a source of quotation for Isugu-
ing Lips incapable of unclean utterance. . .^
Do you ask for the Platonic idea of London.;
monthly nurse early in Queen Victoria's reign ■

March 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

281

)ickens shows it you embodied. At such a
fling as this, crawling between earth and
eaven, what can one do but laugh ? Its
xistence is a puzzle, a wonder. The class it
^presents shall be got rid of as speedily as
ossible ; well and good, we cannot tolerate such
public nuisance. But the individual — so
erfect a specimen — shall be preserved for all
ime by the magic of a great writer's deep-
jeing humour, and shall be known as Mrs.
ramp."

Iiimour, no doubt, is the solvent, making
ossible and credible a far greater amount
E idealism of whatever type than plain,
iraightforward portraiture will endure.
Mr. Gissing's chapters are fuU of matter,
ad we must needs leave most of it untouched,
[e defends the pathos of Dickens, even as it
lapes itself in the death-beds of Paul
ombey and of Little NeU. Not "cheap"
r "mawkish," he declares, because not
flagrantly imtrue." Well, we would gladly
j-eak a lance with him here, but not at the
g-end of an article. Besides, room must
fsuredly be found for the very curious pas-
jge in which, commenting upon Dickens's
1)rtraiture of middle-class women, Mr.
t ssing suddenly breaks out into vehement
^'clamation against the whole type dis-
essed:

" These remarkable creatures belong for the
list part to one rank of life, that which we
■^guely designate as the lower middle class.
]( general their circumstances are comfortable ;
tsy suffer no hardship— save that of birth,
tiich they do not perceive as such ; nothing is
aced of them but a quiet and amiable discharge
q household duties — they are treated by their
liJe kindred with great, often with extra-
glinary, consideration. Yet their character-
ilic is acidity of temper and boundless
ll3nce of querulous or insulting talk. The
rl business of their lives is to make all
a)ut them as uncomfortable as they can.
I variably they are unintelligent and untaught ;
fy often they are flagrantly imbecile.
Tsir very virtues (if such persons can be said
t( have any) become a scourge. In the high-
^ys and byways of life, by the fireside, and in
t\ bed-chamber, their voices shrUl upon the
tirified ear. It is difftcult to believe that death
cji stifle them ; one imagines them upon the
tleshold of some other world, sounding confu-
8^1 among imhappy spirits who hoped to have
fond peace."

N doubt this is the middle-class woman
al Mr. Gissing sees her ; but has it
nich to do with Dickens? And if occa-
sifially, shadowing it forth in humour, he
dlws such a picture, he certainly woidd not
hi,-e subscribed to the further statement
tljt " such women are a multitude no man
ci number ; every other house in the cheap
siiurbs will be found to contain at least one
8}cimen — very often two, for tlie advantage
oijuarrelling when men are not at hand."
Qi it be that this passage was really
iijmded for one of Mr. Gissing's own novels,
aijl that it has unwittingly got mixed up
W'.h his Dickens slips 'f In any case, it is
0^ of the plane of a book remarkable, as a
wble, for its sympathetic and tolerant
attude.

NOT TO BE EEAD AT ALL.

To be Mead at Dusk, and Other Stories,
Studies, and Sketches. By Charles Dickens.
(Eedway.)

The reputation of Dickens may brave
criticism and endure the stream of time, but
it will not be exalted by such debris as Mr.
F. G. Kitton has uneartiied from the pages
of Sbusehold Words and elsewhere and col-
lected under the title of To be Bead at Busk.
The expiration of copyright seems to have
rendered it possible for him to publish
things which Dickens's responsible literary
executors wisely left in oblivion. We are
not grateful for so shameless a piece of
book-making. These articles were mere
journalism at best, by no means intended
for a permanent existence. And the majority
of them are quite unworthy of being paraded
under the name of a great writer. The
humour is worn very thin, so thin that you
readily recognise the threads from which
some middle-class humorists of our own
day derive. The more serious pieces take
Dickens quite out of his sphere. They are
merely of the nature of leading articles on
topics of the day. And to disinter the
criticism of the Pre-Eaphaelite Brotherhood
with its would-be funny description of
Millais' "Carpenter's Shop," and its total
want of artistic discernment or understand-
ing, was a cruel thing.

those that love and are gay and of those that
love and are sorrowful. We do not say that
she consoles ; yet she indicates that she also
has dwelt in the land of shadows, and as in
mere companionship in adversity there is
some consolation, it is possible for the dis-
appointed to enjoy the grey delights of
mutual grief as they read. But let them
beware : Miss Nesbit's poems are dedicated
to her husband I

Here are three stanzas of despair :

FACILE EMOTIONS.

Songs of Love and Empire. By E. Nesbit.
(Constable & Co.)

Miss Nesbit is not so easily summed up
as are some of her sisters in poesy. She
says so many conflicting things, offers so
many changes of mood, that we are con-
fused. And in A Pomander of Verse, her
previous book, there were characteristics
and excellences, not more than hinted at in
the volume before us. There was a spring
song, beginning, " The silver birch is a
dainty lady," perfect in its simple way, and
there were touches of ironical humour.
Here it is mostly patriotism and plaintive-
ness, and we miss both the simplicity of the
spring song and the ironical humour. More,
we begin to doubt the author's sincerity.
We begin to say. Has Miss Nesbit her own
thoughts at all, or only sentimental ideals
and memories ? We know that she is quick
to note Nature's changes, and sensitive to
sun and gloom; but has she a point of view?
has she a personality ? Another book like
the one before us we should say No ; yet
the memory of A Pomander of Verse con-
vinces us that she has.

The new volume opens patriotically.
When the Diamond Jubilee called for cele-
bration. Miss Nesbit was at hand to cele-
brate it : and here is the result. Her
loyalty is unimpugnable, and she has set it
prettUy enough to music. The rest of the
book is given to Love, and all the joys and
pains that surge in Love's wake. Miss
Nesbit shows herself the comrade both of

" Wide downs all gray, with gray of clouds
roofed over,
Chill fields stripped naked of their gown
of grain,
Small fields of rain -wet grass and close-grown
clover.
Wet, wind-blown trees — and, over all, the
rain.

Does memory lie? For Hope her missal
closes

So far away the may and roses seem ;
Ah ! was there ever a garden red with roses ?

Ah ! were you ever mine save in a dream ?

So long it is since Spring, the skylark waking

Heard her own praises in his perfect strain ;

Low hang the clouds, the sad year's heart is

breaking,

And mine, my heart — and, over all, the

rain."

A few lyrics as hopeless and as deftly
turned as that, and the blighted reader
dissolves away ! Miss Nesbit is probably
too much in the thrall of sentiment, too
little disposed to fight against difficulties.
To sing in the minor key is easier than to
sing in the major, and therefore she does it;
meaning, we suspect, only a small part of
what she writes. Apparently a mood has
only to present itself to be expressed in
verse, whether genuine or spurious. We
like her better, and trust her more, when
the mood described is not her own, but
another's, or Nature's — as in the following
portrait :

' ' Like the sway of the silver birch in the breeze
of dawn
Is her dainty way ;
Like the gray of a twilight sky or a starlit
lawn
Are her eyes of gray ;
Like the clouds in their moving white

Is her breast's soft stir ;
And white as the moon and bright
Is the soul of her.

Like murmur of woods in spring ere the
leaves be green,

Like the voice of a bird
That sings by a stream that sings through
the night unseen,

So her voice is heard.
And the secret her eyes withhold

In my soul abides,
For white as the moon and cold

Is the heart she hides."

Or as in these three fresh descriptive
stanzas :

' ' The day was wild with wind and rain,

One grey wrapped sky and sea and shore.
It seemed our marsh would never again

Wear the rich robes that once it wore.
The scattered farms looked sad and chill.

Their sheltering trees writhed all awry,
And waves of mist broke on the hill

Where once the great sea thundered by.

282

THE ACADEMY.

[Maboh 12, 1898.

When God remembered this His land,

This little land that is our own,
He caught the rain up in His hand,

He hid the winds behind His throne.
He soothed the fretful waves to rest.

He called the clouds to come away,
And, by blue pathways, to the west,

They went, like childi-en tired of play.

And then God bade our marsh put on

Its holy vestment of fine gold ;
From marge to marge the glory shone

On lichened farm and fence and fold ;
In the gold sky that walled the west,

lu each transfigured stone and tree,
The glory of God was manifest,

Plain for a little child to see ! "

And here is another poem that has some
vigour. It stands distinct in the volume
by reason of its suggestion of action, of
which, as a rule, Miss Nesbit gives no hint.
But here something is determined, done :

" Are you going for a soldier with yoiu: curly
yellow hair.
And a scarlet coat instead of the smock you

used to wear ?
Are you going to drive the foe as you used to
drive the plough ?

Are you going for a soldier now ?

I am going for a soldier, and my tunic is of

red.
And I'm tired of woman's chatter, and I'U

hear the drum instead ;
I will break the fighting line as you broke

your plighted vow,

For I'm going for a soldier now.

For a soldier, for a soldier are you sure that

you will go,
To hear the drums a-beating and to hear the

bugles blow ?
I'll make you sweeter music, for I'll swear

another vow —

Are you going for a soldier now ?

I am going for a soldier if you'd twenty vows

to make ;
You must get another sweetheart, with

another heart to break,
For I'm sick of Ues and women, the barrow

and the plough,

And I'm going for a soldier now ! "

Miss Nesbit may give us more songs as
good as that, and welcome. For invertebrate
records of passing emotions, lachrj'mose and
sentimental, we do not care. Blanche
Amory's example is not a good one.

AGREEABLE GOSSIP.

Many Memories of Many People. By M. C. M.
Simpson. (Edward Arnold.)

Mes. Simpson -was the daughter of Nassau
Senior, and Senior knew most people worth
knowing. Therefore, her book is fuU of
interest to the lover of gossij) and anecdote.
It is impossible not to envy lier. To have
been tossed as a child in the arms of Arch-
bishop Whateley, tohavebeen a petof Sydney
Smith, to have grown tip in the brilliant
circle which gathered roimd the great Lord
Lansdowne, to have been the friend of De
Tocquevillo, Ampere, the Grotes, and the
Thackerays, to have known Cavour, Guizot,
Rogers, Moore, Jenny Lind, Oarljle, and a

long list of illustrious men and women ; to
have had, in fact, the cream of human society
from childhood to old age, this is a lot given to
few indeed. There is a delightful old-world
touch about much of the book. Already
those times are ancient history to us, the
early Victorians recede into one perspective
with the men of the later Georges and
William IV.

One of Mrs. Simpson's earliest recollec-
tions is that she often, as a child, met the
Princess Victoria in Kensington Gardens,
and the Princess used to talk to her little
brother. She sat in the Peers' Gallery when
the Queen announced her marriage to Prince
Albert, between the beautiful Lady Duilerin
and a maid of honoiir; and she recalls " the
Queen's sweet voice, and that the paper
shook in her hand. By her side stood Lord
Melboiirne repeating inaudibly — we could
see his lips move — every word she uttered."
She came, in her father's library, upon " a
short, dark, stout gentleman," whom
her father called the Comte de Sur-
viUiers — otherwise the ex-King Joseph
of Spain. He told Senior that his
brother was " plutot bon homme que grand
homme." In the summer evenings the ride
in Rotten Row was the correct thing, for, as
Mrs. Simpson says, everybody rode in those
days, even bishops ; and Delane of the
Times, or Lord Lansdowne, would canter to
the side of her father and herself. But this
was before she came out. She gives the
details of that coming out in a note, whence
we rescue them ; they have the fragrance of
old lavender. She wore " a pale blue silk
with what was called a Swiss bodice, the
sleeves and front laced over white silk. If
the party had been a ball I should have
worn tarlatan, as young ladies never danced
in silk. I had some wheat-ears, in silver
and pearls, in my hair, which was in ringlets
according to the fashion of the day. I
followed my parents on the arm of Lord
Glenelg, who had snow-white hair, and the
people around whispered, ' Spring and
winter ! ' " It was at Lansdowne House,
and the occasion was further marked by her
introduction to Moore. Within the walls of
Lansdowne House, Mario, Grisi, Persiani,
Lablache, Tamburini sang to an audience of
royalties and aristocracy, including the Duke
of Wellington, and the young ladies in
ringlets were thrilled. It is all " old and
incredibly faded " ; like the magnificent
D'Orsay whom she saw dashing up to Gore
House in his cabriolet, " displaying an
immense extent of cuff and shirtfront, his
crisp curly hair waving in the breeze . . .
his diminutive tiger bumping up and down
on the footboard behind." He was not so
magnificent to live with as to look at. Some-
one said to D'Orsay of his wife : " What a
charming, pensive expression Lady Harriet
has!" "She owes that to me," was the
reply.

Many anecdotes there are in Mrs. Simp-
son's book of a less cynical order than this.
She tells us how Whateley, visiting her
father's house without a servant, and per-
ceiving a hole in his black stocking, would
try to conceal it by putting a piece of
sticking-jilaster on the exposed part of his
leg:

' ' He iised to sit by my side at breakfast,

balancing his chair, with his legs twisted into
some extraordinary knot, which could not be
untied in a hurry, playing with the tea-leaves,
and scattering them over the table, and setting
down his wet cup on the cloth so as to make a
succession of little rings — totally engrossed in
the conversation that was going on."

There is a good story of Miss Edgeworth
and her sister. They had been staying at
Bowood :

"On the morning fixed for their deijarture
Lord Lansdowne was handing her into her
carriage, and said, with his exquisite urbanity :
' I am sorry you cannot stay longer ' ; where-
upon she replied : ' Oh ! but, my lord, we can.'
The trunks were taken off, the carriage sent
away, and the ladies returned, to the consterna-
tion of their hosts."

Of Thackeray she relates how she one day
called on him to accompany her to a dinner
at Greenwich. "He put his head out of
his study- window and cried : ' Wait till I
have killed her ! ' I think the victim was
Helen Pendennis." There is a story of
Abraham Hayward, who remarked imper-
tinently to a certain lady : "Of course, you
do not know what a. faicx pas \s,V " Is it
a. pas de deux?" she retorted. And there is
a funny specimen of De Circourt's English :
" I was to-day at an artist's of my friends.
A negress was sitting to him, and I tasted
her conversation and her moral for the spaoe
of two hours, and found them quite equal
to those of a white." But the real interest
of the book lies in its descriptions of eminent
people, which are too long for quotation,
and in the extracts which are given from
her father's journals. They are notes of
conversations with various politicians—
Lansdowne, Bright, Aberdeen, &c. — and are
full^of value. Altogether, this is a volume
of reminiscences with hardly [a really duU
page.

BRITONS ABROAD.

Utider the Bed Crescent : the Adventures of an
English Surgeon with the Turhish Army at
Plevna and £rzeroum, i 877-8. Related by
Charles S. Ryan, M.B., and John Sandes,
B.A. (John Murray.)

China and Formosa : the Story of a Successful
Mission. By the Rev. James Johnston.
(HazeU, Watson, & Viney.)

Sunny Memories of an Indian Winter, By
Sara H. Dunn. (Walter Scott.)

Old Tracks and New Landmarks : Wayside
Sketches in Crete, Macedonia, Mitylene, Sfc
By Mary A. Walker. (Richard Bentley.)

During the Turkish war of 1877 Mr.
Ryan occupied the position of surgeon in
the Turkish army. It would not be easy to
conceive of conditions more favourable for
observation, and Mr. Ryan's book gives
evidence of a temperament well fitting
him to take advantage of his opportunities.
With a rollicking humour he combines a
ready sympathy with the more serious and
important side of things. His intimate
association with the officers and men oi
Osman's army has impressed upon nis
mind sentiments of regard and affection tor

Maboh 12, 1898.

THE ACADEMY.

283

both officers and men, and the publication
of hia work is therefore excellently timed.
The pages are bright with such amusing
gossip as this :

"The war corrospondents of those flgbting
days in Spain [the days of the Carlist insur-
rection] were as dare-devil a crew as ever lived ;
t and Leader described to me, with many a
laugh, the circumstances under which he first
I met Edward O'Donovan, another Irishman, as
I gay and reckless as himself. Leader was in
command of a small fort in the north of
[Spain during the height of the insurrection,
'when one day he espied a strange figure clad in
I a long dilapidated overcoat approaching the
I walls. The Spanish sentries yelled to the sus-
picious visitor to halt ; and as he took no notice
of them they fired on him, and the bullets
kicked up the dust aU round the stranger. The
only result, however, was that he increased
his pace and came on at the double, until he
reached the walls off' [sjV] the fort amid a rain
of bullets. ' Cease firing, ye blackguards ! ' he
jihouted in the simple dialect of Southern Cork.
1' I'm Edward O'Donovan, and how the blazes
pan I get in unless you open the gate ! ' . . .
;rhus it was that Edmund O'Donovan, who was
jittached to the Government Iroops, walked
[done into the enemy's fortress."

I The principal figure in the history of the
English Presbyterian mission to the Chinese
Is the Eev. William 0. Burns, who seems to
lave been a man of conviction and purpose ;
.nd the story of his efforts has a certain
inexpected smack of interest. His most
nduring feat, probably, has been the trans-
ition of that long-suffering volume The
''ilgrinCs Progress into the language of the
ountry. His greatest difficulty was to dis-
over fanciful equivalents for Bunyan's
ames, and he spent many days among the
bmbs in the search for Mr. Pliable and
Ir. Pacing-both-ways. He was not without

sense of humour and could appreciate a
jke — at the expense of one of his brethren.
Ir. Johnston paid him a visit and was invited

address the congregation.

' Although I had not studied the colloquial
ir more than a mouth or two, I learned a few
^ntences which I gave out boldly. They were
jhghted, and shouted with one voice ' Put chi
3 '(...' No end good '), ' Chin ho ' (' Fhst
■te ').... If I had stopped then I would
live come off with flying coloiu-s, but rashly
psiring to please the dear people, [I] went on
(itil out of my depth. Though they looked so
[telhgently pleased, I put the question point-
jank, ' Do you understand what I say ? ' As
liristians they were too truthful to say ' Yes,'
!id as Chinamen too polite to say ' No ' ; so,
Iter a pause, the old cloth-merchant answered,
Ve shall pray to God that you may soon speak
Jtelligibly."'

I Mr. Johnston's own humour is sometimes
liconscious, as here :

deavour. Consequently her Sunny Memories
are readable memories. It was not easy
to reduce to order the multiplicity of
notions engendered of a brisk passage
through so vast a tract, among races so
widely distinct— with habits of thought and
national peculiarities so various. But Mrs.
Dunn, by the light of a quick intelligence,
has admirably caught the leading feature of
many of them ; and to the reader of her
entertaining book, Parsis, Tamils, Goorkhas,
Eajputs, and a dozen others will stand as
well apart as the Highland crofter from the
Sheffield grinder. Mrs. Dunn's pages are
here and there enlivened by symptoms of a
pleasant humour. Take this as an example :

" We had ridden out under the awaking sky
of the early morning hours ; and as the pale
lustrous dawn graduated into perfect day, and
the Sim rose glorious from behind the snows
like an ' avenging fire-god,' causing the death-
white Himalayas to kindle and glow in the
light of his presence, a vision which made one
speechless and almost breathless, our Trans-
atlantic cousin remarked in a tone of calm
finality, ' Wall, that's what I call vurry neat.' "

the "style" of the plate, and its date.
There is an index of owners, and between
seventy and eighty illustrations, including
four impressions from original copper-plates,
and a repulsive dream of Aubrey Beardsley's.
And all this bearing upon what a critic not
long ago called " the most infinitesimal of
all conceivable topics " ! Well, the infini-
tesimal and delightful Horace Walpole had
his book-plate, where the paternal escutcheon
dangles from the branches of a tree, beneath
which is visible the neat antiquity of
"Strawberry Hill " ; and Mr. Gladstone
himself, whom no one can call infinitesimal,
uses a gift plate gallant with ensigns
armorial and winged by wanton hawks.

The Age of the Renascence : Eras of the
Christian Church. By Paul Van Dyke.
(T. & T. Clark.)

The illustrations are from excellent photo-
graphs.

Mrs. Walker dates her experiences as
a traveller from days when travel was less
a matter of course than it is to-day; and
the crowded smudges of the customary
kodak are replaced in this volume by some
five-and-twenty clear-cut, scholarly little
sketches that are full of character. A like
quality of leisurely selection distinguishes
the narratives, and lends to the style a
certain air of placid good breeding.

BRIEFER MENTION.

The Artists
American
Fincham.

and
W.

1" To the credit of the Chinese be it told that
je ' Gospel boat ' was never molested. Even

i^ates respected her. . . . The boatmen were
t allowed to carry arms, but were instructed
present them with plenty of tracts and
Ibles." -^

jio pages are sprinkled with reproductions
<j photographs — mostly groups.
'Mrs. Dunn is a very good traveller. She
l^ows how to use her eyes, and slie dis-
<iTis alien prejudices and sentiments
\ith - . -

and Engrmers of British
Book-Plates. By Henry
(Kegan Paul & Co.)

IN spite of Mr. Andrew Lang the collector
of book-plates increases and multiplies.
That " petty, trivial, and almost idiotic
ghoul " (the collector) will be glad to place
this bulky volume on his shelves, which are
beginning to groan under the weight of
works treating of his vilified hobby. The
fact is, the book-plate is an institution. Its
interests are many — social, personal, heraldic,
and artistic — and they appeal particularly to
a growing class, the fireside antiquaries of
moderate means and busy leisure. For the
use of these worthy persons Mr. Fincham
has compiled a list of some 1,500 artists and
engravers, who are responsible for about
5,000 signed plates ; a list that gaily romps
away from all competitors, and is calculated
to flu the lay mind with a bewildered
aversion. The initiated, on the other hand,
will pore over it long and lovingly ; the Ex-
Librist would, if he could, make it a pocket
companion ; but that seems impossible, for
it is almost a foot tall and turns the scale at
3i lbs. Every page of this laborious cata-
logue is divided into four columns, wherein
are entered particulars of the artist and his

This is a brilliant and picturesque study of
the most brilliant and picturesque period of
history. The " era " dealt with by Mr. Van
Dyke is, roughly, the fifteenth century ;
more precisely, from the return of the Pope
out of the Babylonish captivity at Avignon
in 1377 to the Sack of Home by the
Imperial army in 1527. There is, of course,
a wealth of material for the illustration of
this momentous age, and Mr. Van Dyke has
selected from it skilfully and effectively.
The book is to a large extent a gallery of
striking portraits ; and this is but natural
and right, for the forces at work were
precisely those which naturally come to a
head and declare themselves in striking
personalities. Dr. Henry Van Dyke, who
was to have collaborated with his brother,
and who now writes the introductory
chapter, jioints out that the history of the
Renascence is essentially a history of tlie
antagonism between two human types : on
the one side the men of institutions, on the
other the men of ideas. Here this an-
tagonism is studied from the point of view
of the Church : the attempts, within the
Church to reform it, without the Church
to reform religion, are the central theme.
And Humanism proper is studied as a
radical change in the attitude of the educated
mind which prepared it for the Eeformation.
Our pleasure in Mr. Van Dyke's treatment
of his subject is lessened by his use of such
provincialisms as "loaned" for "lent" and
" apologetes " for " apologists." Otherwise
the manner, as well as the matter of the
book, is of high quality.

The Sill of the Graces.
F.S.A. (Methuen).

By H. 8. Cowper,

sympathetic intuition. Also, her
Bfle gives evidence of conscientious en- [ signature, the name of the original possessor, | some extinct ritual. Mr. Cowper believes

European travel in the centre of Tripoli has
been prohibited by the Turks since 1880.
This proved an irresistible attraction to Mr.
Cowper, who left the capital both in 1895
and 1896 " for a few days' sport," and
wandered at will through the districts of
Gharian, Tarhuna, and M'salata. Mr.
Cowper's chief object was the study of the
megalithic ruins known as " senams," which
he describes at length in this interesting
volume. "Senams" are vast trilithons,
looking like lofty and exceedingly narrow
gateways. Before each stands the altar of

284

THE ACADEMY.

[MARCn 12, 1898.

that through these " senams" victims were
led to the sacrifice. He identifies them with
the Asherim or "groves" which the wor-
shippers of Baal set up on high places, and
believes— fatal propensity of the archsoo-
logical mind— that they may also shed light
upon the nature of Stonehenge. In any case,
his book, with its illustrations and its care-
ful tabulation of the extant ruins, should
be a useful addition to the literature
of a little worked subject. Mr. Cowper
is not so intent upon "senams" as to
have no eyes for anything else. He gives
an excellent account of Tripoli and its
manners and customs, together with a plan
of the capital, which, as surveying instru-
ments are contraband in Turkish dominions,
he accomplished by the primitive means of
pacing and a prismatic compass. He has
also succeeded in identifying the river
Cinyps and the three-peaked hill of the
Graces mentioned by Herodotus, and of
restoring, on yet another point, our belief
in that historian's much maligned veracity.

The Battle of Sheriffniuir. Belated from Ori-
ginal Sources. (Stirling: Eneas Mackay.)

This little pamphlet does credit to its pro-
ducers, though the "twenty original pen-
and-ink drawings" are remarkably indis-
tinct. It represents a class of work we
would be glad to see more of — the serious
contribution to local history. Its author has
told the tale of the battle of Sheriffmuir
with special attention to the configuration
of the ground, and the details of the fight
and the opposing forces are lucidly set
down.

The Scots proverb, " There was mair tint
at Shirramuir," is really justified, for
though the battle was actually indecisive,
it had the same effect on the Jacobite
fortunes as a crushing defeat, for it pre-
vented Mar's junction with the English
Jacobites, and delayed the whole rising at
a time when haste was most necessary.
The narrative here is by no means full, for
though it shows abundantly Mar's wretched
incapacity as a general, it does not do
justice to the great elements of disaffection
to the forces themselves. The Stuarts of
Appir and the Camerons of Lochiel appa-
rently never went into the engagement at
aU. Lord Huntly and the Master of
Sinclair, as is evident from Sinclair's own
narrative, were anxious to lay down their
arms before the battle. It was not without
reason that Gordon of Glenbucket in his
disgust cried, " Oh, for an hour of Dundee!"
When the author was about it he might
have collected in his appendix some of the
sayings relating to the battle, such as
Argyle's

" If it wasna weel bobbit, we'U bobb it again ";

and the famous, " I lost my father and my
mither, and a guid buff belt that was worth
them baith." Nor is the list of songs referr-
ing to Sheriffmuir quite complete. He gives
two versions of the "Battle of Sheriffmuir,"
but he does not seem to be aware of the
third and condensed form (No. 282 in
Johnson) into which Bums threw the ballad.
The first version is set down without the
author's name, but it is preserved on a

broadside in the British Museum as "The
Eace at Sheriffmuir, Fairly Eun on the 13th
of November, 1715," by the Eev. Murdoch
McLennan, of Crathie, who at the time of
the battle was some fourteen years of age.
One other omission we have noticed, "The
Marquis of Huntly's Eetreat from the
Battle of Sheriffmuir," which was reprinted
in the 1844 edition of Motherwell's Mw
Book of Old Ballads.

Progress in Women's Education. Edited by
the Countess of "Warwick. (Longmans,
Green & Co.)

DcRiNG the Victorian Era Exhibition last
summer a large number of ladies gathered
together at Earl's Court and read one
another papers on the advance of woman
in culture and commerce all over the British
Empire. These are the papers, put into
print and arranged by Lady Warwick, who
also writes a preface. We do not know
how they sounded from the lips of their
composers ; but they are very, very solemn
reading, and we must admit that, having
read four accounts of the education of
women in India, we felt unable to face the
remaining four, especially as, broadly
speaking, women in India are not educated
at all. To such, however, as are nervous
of the encroacliment of women upon men's
employments the book carries consolation.
For it would appear that women are still
little more than gleaners in the field of
labour, and, except in the case of city clerk-
ships, are rather creating new demands than
ousting the suppliers of already existing
needs.

From the papers on education we gather
that women can go in for an astounding
number of examinations, and that seems to
please them. Yet they yearn for more.
Miss Nancy Bailey, who is a professional
indexer, wants all indexers to combine and
hold examinations and grant certificates.

We were most interested in Miss CecU
Gradwell's paper on "The Training of
AVomen in Business." Miss GradweU points
out that women are very much addicted to
starting a business without knowing any-
thing about it, instead of expending a
portion of their capital in learning its
details. Also, they very soon grow tired
of it:

' ' One often finds that those to whom work
of any kind is absolutely novel enter into it,
when necessity arises, with infinite courage and
even enthusiasm. They bend the neck to the
yoke ucflinchingly, and serve their employers
with loyalty and devotion. But as time goes
on the monotony becomes irksome ; they tird of
their work, and though not less well done, it
begins to be drudgery, and a time of struggle
supervenes. One wonders if men go through
the same stage ; if they do, I suppose they feel
it is no use kicking against the pricks, and,
therefore, say nothing about it. If this is
80, women might do well to imitate their
philosophy."

We may tell Miss GradweU that this is
certainly so, and that any work which has
to be done continually, regularly, and
without reference to inclination inevitably
becomes drudgery. And women wUl not
be trained for business until they realise

that business is not fun, even when, as in
the case of the professional jester, fun is
business.

The Campaign of Marengo. With Comments
by H. H. Sargent. (Kegan Paul.)

This is the work of an American cavalry
officer and student of tactics. Lieutenant
Sargent studies the great campaign of 180C
mainly from a military and strategical point
of view. He describes the relative situatior
of the French and Austrian armies on the
Ehine and in Italy, the formation of tha'
incredible Army of the Eeserve at Geneva
the stupendous march in the wake of Hanni
bal over the Great St. Bernard, the suddei
descent between Melas and his base, and thi
decisive battle which left the French master
of Italy and Napoleon master of France
Lieutenant Sargent's comments are mos
clear and informing to the lay mind. It i
his object to track the secret of Napoleon'
genius as a commander-in-chief by ai
analysis of his most brilliant and critica
campaign ; and he analyses in a luminou
manner the mental qualities which com
posed that genius. The curious thing i
that, great as were the qualities whicl
Napoleon displayed on the field of Marengc
he had no business to be there. His calcu
lations had gone wrong : he was surprise'
and outnumbered ; and it was only by a:
heroic effort that he pulled a triumph out o
on impending and irretrievable disaster.

The Coldstream Guards in the Crimea. B
Lieut. -Col. Eoss - of - Bladensburg, C.I
(Innes.)

Tuis is in reality a reprint of a portion c
the History of the Cold*tream Guards, pul
lished by the same author a few montt
ago. But that was an expensive bool
containing much matter of no particuls
interest outside the regiment. The genen
reader will be glad to have the extrac
which contains an exceedingly iuterestin
and detailed account of the immortal an
blundering Crimean campaign from th
point of view of a single corjis. Tb
Coldstream Guards distinguished itself, hi
no one can read this chronicle withoi
feeling that, like its brother regiments,
was put to much unnecessary suffering for
ludicrously small result.

English History for Children. By Mr
Frederick Boas. (Nisbet.)

This is an admirable little book for it
purpose. It is written with great sin:
plicity and clearness, and Mrs. Boas show
judgment in not overloading her nawatn
with facts, and in selecting for mentio
those that are not only important, but als
picturesque and telling. We rejoice to s«
that the modem school of educationalis
has not discarded Alfred and the cakes, an
other delights of our childhood. And i
other respects the advance is great, for tli
lesson has been learnt that education
stimulus, and that to stimulate it is essentii
not to stupefy. Mrs. Boas' book is liberall
provided with illustrations, well-chosen an
various. The portraits of Wolsey and (
Oliver Cromwell are particularly good.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, MARCH 12, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.

A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

Dbeamers of the Ghetto.

By I. Zangwill.

This bulky volume, which contains that little masterpiece Chad
Oadya, is not, in the ordinary sense of the term, a volume of short
stories. One definite idea pervades it — viz., that the character of
all Jews, whether they lived in the days of Eameses or the days of
Victoria, has been influenced by practically the same forces and the
same environment. This idea Mr. Zangwill has worked out in a
variety of instances, blending the real with the imaginary. Moses,
Heine, Beaconsfield flit through his 2i*iges alongside fictitious
Dreamers of the Ghetto of the fourteenth century and of our own
day. In the author's own words : " This is a Chronicle of
Dreamers, who have arisen in the Ghetto from its establishment in
the sixteenth century to its slow breaking up in our own day. Some
have become historic in Jewiy ; others have penetrated to the ken
of the gi'oater world and afforded models to illustrious artists in
letters . . . ; the rest are personally known to me, or are, like
' Joseph, the Dreamer,' the artistic typification of many souls
through which the great Ghetto dream has passed." (\V. Heine-
mann. 470 pp. 6s.)

Tales of Trail and Town. By Bret Habte.

Seven new stories by Mr. Bret Harte. All that is necessary is to
say that only the author of The Luck of Roaring Camp could have
written them, and to give their appetising titles : " The Ancestors of
Peter Atherley," "Two Americans," "The Judgment of Bolinas
Plain," "The Strange Experience of Alkali Dick," " A Night on
the Divide," " The Yoimgest Prospector in Calaveras," " A Tale of
Three Truants." The frontispiece, by Mr. Jacomb Hood, is
charming. (Chatto & Windus. 302 pp. 3s. 6d.)

The Incidental Bishop. By Gr.vnt Allen.

A brisk story in Mr Grant Allen's best narrative manner. The
hero is Tom Pringle, a sailor on the John Wesley, slaver. Circum-
stances make it politic for Tom to assume a dead missionary's
garb, and he continues clerical to the end. Tom is a good fellow,
despite the fraud. The story is business-like throughout. " Hard
a-sterboard ! " are the first words, and after that it booms along.
(C. Arthur Pearson. 248 pp. 6s.)

The Pride or Jennico.

By a. and E. Castle.

Mr. Egerton Castle, one of the authors of this romance, is the
translator of Stevenson's Prince Otto into French, and should there-
fore know something of the technique of a good story. He has
also written fiction of his own. We mentioned Prince Otto
because the book before us suggests it. It treats of a Princeling's
court, and there is intrigue here and fighting there, and a well bred
air over all. The manner is distinguished. (Bentley. 346 pp. 6s.)

Van Wagener's Ways. By W. L. Alden.

Mr. Alden's method is well known. He has a quaint, ingenious
and fertile mind, and he is American through and through. In
Van Wagener he has contrived a humorous inventor, and this
book is his history. "The Explosive Dog," "The Flying Cat,"
"Incandescent Cats," "The Amphibious Torpedo" — these are
some of the titles. In default of Mr. Stockton and Max Adeler
Mr. Alden will do. (C. Arthur Pearson. 204 pp. 2s. 6d.)

Billy Binks, Hero. By Guy Boothby.

The author of Br. Nikola is here seen as a writer of short stories
of Australia and other lands. BiUy Binks, the hero of the first, is
a young Antipodean, eight years of age, dressed in a red Crimean
shirt, much torn, a pair of man's trousers, and a cabbage leaf hat.
He is capable of oaths of remarkable scope and atrocity, and is

good company. Mr. Boothby is a vigorous chronicler, and Billy
does not suffer at his hands. The other stories are : " The
BuUyof Haiphong"; " A Child of Tonking "; " The MiUionaire of
Homibrook Island"; "The Story of Lee Ping "; " Carrie Quin's
Elopement"; "Daphne." (W. & E. Chambers. 244 pp. 3s. 6d.)

His Grace o' the Gdnne. By I. Hooper.

The Gunne was a meeting place for thieves, and thither went
Lurlin Kirke, who tells this story, in 1664. And Charles Heath
the highwayman said to hirp : " Hey, my kinching coe, dost need
another lambasting ?" and gave him precepts for life. '^Imprimis,
be kind unto the dumb beasts. Next, when thou be'st a man,
and will fag thy doxy, remember that she be weaker than thou.
Do not strike too hard. Do not squeek upon thy kin, bung
nyppera, foisters, and the like." Later, come adventures with
quality, told more intelligibly. (Black. 282 pp. 6s.)

Was She Justified ?

By Frank Babbett.

The question of the title applies principally to bigamy, which the
heroine committed with the hero. The heroine's name was Ikey,
and she was brought up as a boy, but assumed her own sex in time
to make complications. The hero was David Grant. Says the
author: "Maybe you have seen David Grant; at one time he was
known by sight to half London. ... If you were at the 'Varsity
boat-race in the hailstorm year you must have picked him out of
the Light Blues as the smartest man of the crews. . . . You may
have seen him lounging in evening dress ... in the stalls of
theatres or music-halls." The book is like this — melodrama in
print. (Chatto & Windus. 309 pp. 6s.)

Tenebrae.

By Ernest G. Henham.

A madman purports to narrate this story. He became mad
because his brother stole his love. Therefore he killed the brother.
Afterwards life was chiefly spiders. He saw spiders everywhere.
Tliey were not ordinary spiders, not even tarantulas, but larger
still, as large as cows. The doctor who supplies an elucidatory
appendix says of the madman's MS. : " The closing pages are most
awful. The very paper seems to scream with torture." (Skeffing-
ton. 329 pp. 6s.)

Carpet Courtship.

By Thomas Cobb.

A society story told mainly in dialogue — clever dialogue and
bright. (John Lane. 171 pp.)

Torn Sails. By Allen Eaine.

This story, by the author of A Welsh Singer, is laid in a Welsh
village. The setting bespeaks the drama. You don't have a
narrow valley, a " streamlet," " rocky knoUs," and stepping-stones,
without a love story that moves through pain to bliss. The love-
making is very tender : " Come and be the mistress of the old mill,
f'anwylyd," says he, and what can she reply but " Caton pawb,
Ivor, thou art taking my l)reath away " ? (Hutchinson & Co.
359 pp. 6s.)

A Son of Israel. By Eachel Penn.

This is a Eussian- Jewish love-story, and it therefore bubbles
with passion. David Eheba and Olga Ivanner are Jew and
Christian, end they love and suffer through more than three
hundred pages. The author mixes her pronouns and verbs rather
badly sometimes : "I, a servant of God, hath joined your hands,"
says the priest, on page 115; and on the next page Olga exclaims :
" Each art dragging at me." (Jolm Macqueen. 306 pp. 63.)

Her Wild Oats. By John Bickebdyke.

The author of Daughters of Thespis and other novels kindly gives
a synopsis of his plot in lieu of a table of contents. From this we
learn that the hero is a young English farmer, who adopts the bicycle
but clings to his prejudices. She is " refined and beautiful."

286

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[March 12, 1898.

Though refined and beautiful she is mysterious, which is more tha,n
can be said for the other heroine, Miss BeUe Beresford. Belie s
biography is written on the posters of the Piccadilly -Theatre.
Thus the London pavements alternate, as a background, with the
" cool plash-plash backwaters above Goring." For the rest, there
is a vicar caUed Mr. Smallmind. (Thomas Burleigh. 299 pp. Cs.)

Thb Hand of the SroiLEE. By E. H. Forster.

" Being the Adventures of Master "Wilfrid Clavering at Corbridge,
Hexham, and Elsewhere, in the Twenty-seventh, Twenty-eighth,
and Twenty-ninth Years of His Late Highness, King Henry the
Eighth." Corbridge and Hexham are townships on the banks of
the Tyne. (Mawson, Swan & Morgan. 273 pp. 6s.)

Hector Macrae. By Hannah Mackenzie.

A long story in small print. The authoress says that in her
delineation of the modern Highlands and Highlanders she has tried
to " extenuate nought, and nought set down in malice." (Simpkin,
Marshall & Co. 373 pp. 6s.)

The Consecration of Hetty Fleet. By A. St. John Adcock.
A stoiy that opens in an undertaker's shop, and ends in lurid
sins and melodramatic suicide. The moral is good ; but Mr.
Adcock was nearer to life, and far more readable, in his East-Und
Idylls. (Skeffington & Son. 141 pp. 3s. 6d.)

Hagar of the Pawnshop. By Fergus Hume.

Hagar flies from the encampment of the Stanleys in the New
Forest to the pawnshop of her miserly old uncle, Jacob Dix, a Lam-
beth pawnbroker : her impelling motive being the unwelcome
attentions of Goliath, a red-haired villain — " half a Gorgio and
half Eomany." A fine girl is Hagar, and a free-tongued ; and
she wakes tluugs up in the Lambeth pawnshop, where we find her
attending to ten customers in as many chapters. In Lambeth,
Hagar finds a lover of roving instincts — a caravan bookseller — and
with him leaves London for the g^een country and the gipsy life.
(Skeffington & Son. 252 pp. 6s.)

Under One Cover. By S. Baring-Gould and Others.

What can we say about these eleven stories by six writers, except
to echo the publisher's j)ious hope that " one and all fulfil the
cardinal requirements of being thoroughly readable and inter-
esting." (Skeifington & Son. 255 pp. 3s. 6d.)

REVIEWS.

The Broom of the War- God. By Henry Noel Brailsford.
(William Heinemann.)
A CASUAL glance at this tale of the late Turco-Greek war
indicates that the author has some of the qualities required
for a successful novelist. He can observe minutely, and
record his observations with a rough picturesqueness. Mr.
Brailsford's story is absolutely devoid of plot, and its hero is a
sentimental young gentleman called Graham, who is not more
interesting than half a dozen other members of the Greek Foreign
Legion, that strange cosmopolitan combination, " all the flotsam
and jetsam of humanity, the ragged edge of society, swept up by
the broom of the war-god." The author, who seems to have been a
member of the Legion, or to have accompanied it in the character of
a war correspondent, possesses either a marvellously retentive
memory or an extremely capacious notebook. Unfortunately he is
not equally gifted with the power of selection, or even with ordinary
good taste. In his painfully minute account of the sayings and
doings of the Foreign Legionaries he spares us nothing. Their silly
and objectionable nicknames, their vulgar witticisms — generally
vapid and frequently coarse— their filthy practices and polyglot
blasphemies, are all set down in the most mercUess detail, so that
the book is quite imfitted for any but the strongest stomachs
Possibly the example of Mr. Kipling has led Mr. Brailsford astray.
Here, for example, is the advance of the red-fezzed Turkish host at
Pharsala :

" ' Hallo ! • said Smith, ' that road wasn't red a minute ago.' It was
as though a vein had been opened on the moor three miles away, and I

the red blood trickled slowly down, a thin streak soaking its way
through the yellow dust. The eyes of the company were fixed on the
dry road, greedily watching the yellow absorbing the red. It had a
fascination like nothing else on earth, this thin red symbol of terror that
crept remorselessly over the sand.

' Well, I'm blowed if it ain't old Tarco at last,' said the company.
And then, with their vision sharpened, they saw black squares like
burnt patches on the brown heath. They seemed stationary, but while
someone found a new patch nearer and more menacing, the first would
move a little. And stiU the red lino trickled down the road. Then it
was the horizon that grew black, and the outline of the hills seemed
ragged, confessedly irregular as the black squares came over them.

' Wy, you'd think they was ants,' said Simson."

The noise of a shell is well described :

" Then came a strange grinding noise, as if the mills of the gods
moved through the air. It seemed irritatingly slow, yet still it moved,
and towards the company. There is no sound more angry or sinister,
it is the rasping of iron on iron, the crunching of steel jaws, the
inexorable approach of some engine of death along an iron track that
strives to retard it. And at last it fell among the soft sand some twenty
yards in front, the embodied noise visible at last. Smith looked back to
the company. ' Pretty close shave that was, eh I ' His face was
flushed ; he looked as if he would shout, ' Come on, you damned coward,
nearer, nearer,' to the shell. ' That was shrapnel ; you can tell him by
the noise. If that boy had burst 'e'd 'ave maide a mess of some of us.
Queer noise, ain't it, though ? '

' It's like an over'ead cash railway in a draiper's shop,' said Simson."

These extracts wiU give some idea of Mr. Brailsford's strength as

well as his weakness. Some day he ought to write a really good

story, but he must first acquire the virtues of compression and

selection.

« - « * «

God's Foundling. By A. J. Dawson.
(Heinemann.)

This is a somewhat difficult book to criticise, for it is a curions
mixture of good and bad work. Mr. Dawson can write well
enough, but he does not do so with any regularity, preferring a
preciosity of phrase and extravagance of metaphor which land him
in the ludicrous. This is the sort of thing :

" But where this hat's brim's httle shadow fell across either side of
Mr. Morley Fenton's forehead, thin, knotted, pale veins were throbbiDg
and writhing, like baby snakes in the sun- warmed hollow of a fallen tree. '

And the women in the book are very poor — dolls all of them,
though of slightly different patterns and stuffing. One feels that the
author cared very little about them, felt them a necessary nuisance
in his story. He might, indeed, perfectly well have left them out ;
the respectable ones, at any rate. Nor are we much impressed by
Mr. Leo Tame, an epigrammatic Bohemian, without the courage of
his convictions. He is supposed to be a sort of mentor of evil to
the hero, and he rather bores us. He talks like this :

" She is not Greek. She is Byzantine, and ravishing. She is less
beautiful than charming, less charming than adorable, less adorable than
fascinating. She is simply the Carissima — an incarnate temptation, a
sin set to the music of a can-can movement. She is Paradise and tiie
other place, Paris, Florence, Monte Carlo, Naples, Brussels, and the
Orient, condensed into five feet of femininity ; the seven deadly sins and
all the cardinal virtues, with others ; the voice of an angel, the only real
purple head of hair in the universe, and a lisp with which she might
govern Europe — all that, and more, set in a bewildering maze of frou-
frou, and christened Lise Vecci for lack of a name. But come, let us
find this telegraph-place, for the Carissima is a creature who makes
countless engagements, and affects a method in the order in which she
breaks them."

On the other hand, the three principal characters —Morley Fenton,
the precise man of business with a load on his conscience ; George
Barnard, the big honest child-like Bohemian ; and Harold Foster,
the "foundling," who is really Fenton's illegitimate son — are strongly
drawn and well contrasted. And there is a moral idea in the hook,
the purification of the hereditary taint upon Harold's soul in the
furnace of life, and his final emergence as what Mr. Dawson calls a
" clean " man, ready for the service of his fellows. Possibly the
gospel of " wild oats " is a fallacious one — we are not concerned
with that — but, at any rate, it finds in God's Foundling effective
pleading. That Harold Foster should ultimately marry one of the
dolls is, we suppose, a concession to sentimentality. Mr. Dawson
would do better if he had some humour.

Mabch 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

287

SOME APHOEI8M8.

VI.— La Bruyere.

' As a moralist he is sagacious rather than profound — a man of
he world who gives us the fruits of his experience of life, rather
han a philosopher who records the results of his researches."
?hu8 Mr. Henry Attwell introduces La Bruyere to readers of his
lew and dainty volume of selections from the French pensee writers,
ntitled Pansies from French Gardem. Mr. Attwell allots more
pace to La Bruyere than even to Eochefoucauld, and we take the
iberty of transcribing some of his renderings of La Bruyere' s
horter sayings : —

Everything has been said; and one comes too late after there
ave been men, and thinking men, on the earth for more than
3ven thousand years. As to the conduct of life, the choicest and
est that could be written has been forestalled. One does but
|lean after the ancients, and after the able men among the
iioderns.

i There are certain things which are intolerable when second-rate :
joetry', music, painting, and public speaking.

i The pleasure of criticism deprives us of the delight of being
Ireatly moved by very beautiful things.

I Many people possess nothing worthy of mention but their name.
JTien you look at them closely they are the merest nobodies.
l)en from a distance they are imposing.

We should try to make ourselves very deserving of some sort of
(iployment. The rest is no concern of ours. It is the business of
dher people.

|If it is a common thing to be struck by what is rare, how is it
tat we are so little affected by virtue ?

Love begins with love ; and there is no passing from firm friend-
eip to even feeble love.

Love which grows by degrees is too much like friendship to
Icome a violent passion.

[t is a weakness to love. It is often another weakness to cure
oj's-self of the passion.

[f a very plain woman begets love, such love is ardent ; for it
ases eitlier from a strange weakness on the part of her lover,
o from charms that are more powerful than those of beauty.

Ilow difficult it is to be satisfied with anybody !

)bserve carefully those who can never see anything worth
p: ising in others, who are always finding fault, and whom no one
et please, and you wiU find that they are persons who are liked
b; nobody.

,tf all the ways of making a fortune, the shortest and best is to
le people see clearly that it is to their interest to be of service to

here are two methods, and two methods only, of making one's
^i- in the world — by one's own industry, or by profiting by the
3ti)idity of other people.

blf-assertion is not so much a matter of will as natural dis-
pdtion. It is a fault, but an innate fault. A naturally modest
Daa does not easily become the reverse. It is of no avail to say to
l»i? " Carry your head high and you will make your way." If he
iciji the part badly, it would do him more harm than good.
VV:it is wanted to secure success at court is genuine, frank
im'idence.

Ue need have achieved less to suggest the question : " Why did
roi^et that appointment?" than, " Why did you not get it?"

1 is boorish to give with a bad grace. If the act of gfiving
mt Is an efEort, what matters the additional cost of a smile ?

^e dread an old age to which we are by no means sure we shall
)ve attain.

> thing cheers a man's heart more than to know that he has had
he mse to avoid committing some foolish act.

^re is in some men a certain mediocrity of intellect which helps
o nlke them discreet.

ME. MEEEDITH AND EAME.
In Praise of Shagpat.

The gentle and genial writer of " The Looker-on," in Blackwood'' s
Magazine, makes the following suggestive remarks apropos the
seventieth birthday of Mr. George Meredith: — "I remember
no time when he was not famous; not, indeed, as Miss
Corelli is, but in a much wider world than is meant when
we speak of ' literary society.' Quite as long ago as then his
name was the name of a true man of genius who had well and
comfortably made his proofs. We cannot have it, and it must not
be allowed, that he was 'discovered' in 1885 by the ladies and
gentlemen who stumbled on Diana of the Crouways at the circulating
libraries. Is Fitzgerald renowned or not — he whose transmutation
of Omar's quills of precious golddust into a fine cup was thrown
into the ' AU at 4d.' box ? Eenowned he is, and firm on the after-
death foundation of fame. But there is not much call for his book
at the circulating libraries.

Yet those authors are not to be believed who declare themselves
— I mean poets, novelists, essayists — indifferent to popular favour.
It would be unkind to believe them ; for being versed in the
secrets of the heart, they must know that the sentiment they
vaunt is so far from being noble as to be more or less inhuman.
For one thing, real indifference would signify contentment that
the mass of our fellow-creatures are too stupid and soulless to know
what is good for them. Meredith has far too much warmth, is far
too sympathetic, to have ever been indifferent to the lack of wide
appreciation, though the best was never wanting ; wherefore I bid
you believe that, going cheerily and unswervingly upon his lofty
path, it was with no Timon-of-Athens scowl, but with a glad
flinging out of the arms, that he found general popularity awaiting
him at the Crossways.

But why there, and not at an earlier stage, will never be known
in this world. It is a fine story, Diana of the Crossways, but no
greater in any respect than others its predecessors. A rush to the
libraries for The Egoist — that supremely excellent display of
Meredithian penetration and humour — was not to be expected.
But the splendid romance and the glowing presentation of character
in Harry Richmond — why with that before them in 1871 did the
general public remain unaware of a great novelist and brilliant
man of genius till ' Diana ' appeared fourteen years afterward ?

The general public. Yes ; but it is certain that every professed
Meredithian, even among the devout, is clear of reproach at this
day? In the year 1898, being the thirteenth after the publication
of ' Diana,' is there no dulness of apprehension even among these ?
If not, how comes it that we hear so little of The Shaving of Shag-
pat ? The publisher will say that The Shaving of Shagpat sells, no
doubt ; but there is nothing in that unless he can disprove that
the circulation of the book is mainly among members of the
profession to whom its title appeals as a trade manual, or else as
an amusing brochure particularly interesting to barbers. If the
infrequent reprints of the story of Shibli Bagarag are not taken up
in this way, where do the copies go to ? Who else reads them ?
Wherever I hear Meredith praised I push inquiry into the merits
of ' Shagpat,' and rarely find that anything is known about them.
Some admirers of the author have but a faint recollection of this
book ; others frankly admit that they never came across it ; some
look as if they then heard its title for the first time, and doubt
whether they heard aright. Scriptures on Meredith usually mention
Shagpat, but only as a bibliographical item, — the first of our author's
productions. The writer of a leading article in a great London
newspaper — one of those that made obeisance and compliment to
Meredith on his birthday — could praise the Story of Chloe above
its author's opinion of that early work, but had not a word for The
Shaving of Shagpat though he named it.

And all this while Tlw Shaving of Shagpat invites curiosity by
being quite unlike the Meredithian novels - a thing unique ; and
when explored, it is found to be a wonder of invention, imagination,
fancy, wit. An Eastern tale in a string of etories, like to the
Thousand and One Nights' EiUertainmtnt, it challenges comparison
with a laughing audacity, and brings no shame on the challenger
thereby : no, but glory and honour. Of the Meredithian obscurity
and complication of phrase that some complain of, no trace here in
a single line. Is] there a Meredithian mannerism ? — Not in The
Shaving^ of Shagpat.

288

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Maech 12, 1898.

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WARD, LOCK & CO., Limited, Salisbury Square, Londou, E.C. ; and Melbourne and New York.

March 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

289

SATURDAY, MARCH i2, 1898.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

THE scheme, which was first mooted in
the Times in November, 1896, for
raising a subscription with which to defray
ihe cost of obtaining a portrait of Mr. Her-
bert Spencer, has been successfully carried
.hrough. The portrait, painted to com-
nemorate the completion of Mr. Spencer's
Synthetic Philosojyhy, is the work of Prof,
lubert Herkomer, E.A., and is adjudged a
?ood likeness. It will be sent to the Eoyal
\-cademy this year, and then during Mr.
•Spencer's life-time will hang in the Tate
jallery ; afterwards, with the approval of
he trustees, finding its permanent home in
he National Portrait Gallery. Wo trust
liat the final removal will be long deferred.

Mr. Coxead's Nigger of the ^^ Narcissus "
i an exercise in impressionism so much in
le class of 'The Red Badge of Courage that
: is peculiarly interesting to read Mr.
tephen Crane's opinion of it. He writes :
It is unquestionably the best story of the
3a written by a man now alive, and, as a
latter of fact, one would have to make an
stensive search among the tombs before
e who has done better could be found. As
>r the ruck of writers who make the sea
leir literary domain, Conrad seems in
iect simply to warn them off the premises,
id tell them to remain silent. He comes
jarer to an ownership of the mysterious
Ee on the ocean than anybody who has
ritten in this century."

Mk. OoyR^VD's book, 1)y the way, is called

the American edition The Children of the

'a, The Nigger of the " Narcissus " having

len considered too ungainly. A new work

bm his pen, consisting of sliort stories,

i announced, under the title Tales of Unrest.

If M. Zola reads the Daily Chronicle, he
must have been amused by a paragraph in
Wednesday's issue. We are tempted to
quote it: "Has Mr. George Moore lost
his old admiration and affection for M.
Zola ? If not, why should a series of private
letters from the latter to the former appear
in the catalogue of a well-known Holborn
bookselling firm ? There are six of these,
and they may all be had for the moderate
sum of £4 3s. That this is dirt cheap is
evident when wo add that one of them refers
' to the English school of fiction and tlie
success of M.,' and another 'advises M. as
to the best method of publishing a novel in
Paris,' and positively ' invites him to take
up in England the superb rdle of introduc-
ing to the English " la littorature vivante." '
How can Mr. Moore possibly have parted
with such a flattering invitation ? "

A CORRESPONDENT of the Daily News has
been studying the two sermons delivered
recently by Dean Farrar at Great St. Mary's,
Cambridge, to some purpose. On subjecting
them to analysis, he finds that the allusive
and eloquent preacher used altogether more
than eighty different quotations, and twenty-
three Scriptural phrases or texts, exclusive of
paraphrases. Thus: " Dean Farrar has four
Greek quotations in the original — Pindar,
'the Greek comedian,' 'the Greek father,'
and an unacknowledged passage ; also two
Greek words used by St. Luke, and Latin
quotations in the original from 'the Roman
poet,' 'the Roman bard,' ' the gay lyrist,' St.
Augustine, St. Francis Xavier, and Orosius,
to say nothing of the inscriptions on the dials
of Balliol CoUege and Lincoln's Inn, and
such flowers of speech as ' summum bonum '
and ' to to coelo, toto inferno.' Some score of
sentences, which may be prose or poetry, are
found in the two sermons within quotation
marks and without their source being stated.
Dean Farrar quotes poetry without mention-
ing the author (Shakespeare, Tennyson, &c.)
twelve times in aU — the total amounting to
forty-seven lines. He also quotes ' a late
eminent judge,' 'the German writer,' 'a
brutal onlooker,' and 'one of our greatest
men of science.' "

In addition to the unacknowledged quo-
tations. Dean Farrar mentioned by name
the following authorities when making use
of their words :

Christ ( three passages ) .

David.

Solomon.

St. Poter.

St. Paul.

St. John.

St. Luke.

St. Augustine.

St. Francis Xavier (two

passages, Latin and

English).
Marcus Aurelius.
" Cleantha."
Epictotus.
Hermas.
Pindar.
Pynho.
Orosius.
Leibnitz.

Amiel (two passages).
Yon Hartmann.

Novalis.

Schopenhauer.

Salvator Bosa.

Henry Smith.

William Brown (the
boy martyr).

Shakespeare (two pas-
sages acknow-
ledged).

Milton (four passages).

Browning (ditto).

Byron (twice).

Kenan (twice).

Wordsworth,

Lord Herbert of Chor-
bm-g

Emerson,

Buskin.

Thackeray.

Sir Fitzjames Stephen.

"After this it savours of anti-climax to add
that the preacher also alluded by name,
without quoting from, to the prophet Isaiah,
Whitfield, Augustus Csesar, Trajan, St.
Louis of France, St. Francis of Assisi, St.
Tliomas Aquinas, the author of the Imitatio
Christi, Dives, Lazarus (the subject of
miracle), ' the poor, ugly teacher whom the
Greek Pharisees doomed to drink hemlock,'
Mary (Queen), Othello, Desdemona, Cordelia,
and Pan." The achievement is well worthy
of record.

The following lines are printed on the
title-page of Mr. I. Zangwill's new volume.
Dreamers of the Ghetto — " The story of a
Dream that has not come true " :

" Moses and Jesus.

In dream I saw two Jews that met by chance,
One old, stem-eyed, deep-browed, yet gar-
landed
With living light of love around his head,
The other young, with sweet seraphic glance.
Around went on the Town's Satanic dance,
Hunger a-piping while at heart he bled.
Shalom Aleichem, mournfully each said.
Nor eyed the other straight but looked askance.
Sudden from Church outroUed an organ hymn.
Prom Synagogue a loudly chaunted air,
Each with its Prophet's high acclaim instinct.
Then for the first time met their eyes, swift

linked
In one strange, silent, piteous gaze, and dim
With bitter tears of agonised despair."

The most unaffectedly amusing guide-
book we have ever seen is Hind Head, by
Mr. Thomas Wright, of Olney. Mr. Wright
entered with extraordinary zest into his
task, and he describes not only the country,
but the best-known inhabitants. More, he
supplies a preface consisting of a short
biography of himself by a friend, and there
is his portrait by way of frontispiece. This
is the very crown of thoroughness.

Mr. Weight's first celebrity is Mr. Conan
Doyle ; and then we come to a chapter
headed enigmatically and not very happily :
"Mr. Grant Allen: The Devil's Jumps."
At Hind Head, it seems, Mr. Grant Allen is
spoken of " not merely with respect, but
almost with affection. He is ' our Grant
Allen.' " Moreover, " in relating an anecdote
he is inimitable. In his lips venerable
stories from the Talmud, or other archaic
repositories, gather new charms and sparkle
with unsuspected fun. like FitzGerald's
Omar, the rendering is better than the
original. He can rarely resist administering
a sly poke at the clergy." In all that he
writes he dispenses " a dry humour re-
calling the flavour of Sir Walter Scott."

Anon Mr. Wright called on Mr. Le
Gallienne, who is also a Hind Head celebrity,
and spent an ambrosial evening. The poet
was genial. "There was no attemi>t at
pose (How one detests Goethe for his
attitudes!), everything was pleasant, easy,
and natural." Talk flowed like water.
"I asked whether he did not rank Keats
above Shellev. ' One must do so,' he
replied ; ' Shelley is more music than poetry.'
. . . . The conversation turned to Mr. Le
Gallienne's new translation of Omar

290

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 12, 1898.

Khayyam, and my poem ' Edward Fitz-
Gerald at Bedford. . . . Some,' lie
remarked, ' have fallen foul of The Quest,
but it contains nothing harmful. It is mere
boyishness, and I am afraid,' he said, light-
ing a cigarette, ' I shall always be a boy.' "
At length Mr. "Wright departed. " When
he turned away I felt that we had done each
other good. I knew that we had electrified
each other. I felt drawn to him as I have
felt drawn to very few. When I got back
to Grayshott I took up TJie Quest, to finish

it When I reached the last paragraph

I could not restrain tears."

A LETTER of Carlyle's, hitherto unpub-
lished, which has come into the market,
contains the following pessimistic utterance
on his calling : " Literature is like money,
the appetite increases by gratification ; the
mines of literature, too, are unwholesome
and dreary as the mines of Potosi ; yet from
either there is no return, and though little
confident of finding contentment, happiness
is too proud a term. I must work, I believe,
in those damp caverns, till once the whole
mind is recast, or the lamp of life has
ceased to bum within it."

The American Ambassador has recalled,
in an interview in Cassell's Magazine, the
Swinbumian stanza from which Bret Harte
borrowed the metre of " The Heathen
Chinee." It surges along thus gloriously :

" Who shall seek, who shall bring,
And restore thee the day
When the dove dipped her wing
And the oars won their way,
Where the narrowing Symplegades whiten
the straits of Propontis with spray."

"The Heathen Chinee" is a precious gem
of humour, but it is melancholy, none the
less, to reflect that its success has probably
made it impossible for any more serious
verse to be written in the same irresistible
measure.

An extraordinary book Ues before us.
The title is Tales from the Neio Testament, and
the author Mr. F. J. Gould, and it is an
attempt to make the story of the Gospels
more interesting to children by retelling
them in colloquial English. Look at this
passage from Mark vi., as improved by Mr.
Gould:

" ' I know what you will say,' Jesus went on.
' You will say, " Doctor, heal yourself." You
will sav that if I can cast out devils and cure
sick folk in other places, I ought to be able to
do it here among my own family and my old
neighbours. But you know a prophet very
often gets no notice taken of him by the people
of his own village or country, and so he can do
no mighty works among such unbelievers.
You don't beheve in me, and I can't perform
cures for you. In olden days there was a
famine in this land, and the prophet EUjah
went to live with a widow, and all the time she
sheltered him in her cottage heaven blessed her
with plenty of food ; but she was not a Jewess ,
there were no Jewesses good enough to have so
much done for them. Then, again, there were
many lepers in this country in the days of the
prophet Elisha, but he never healed any of the
Jews ; they did not deserve it ; he only healed
a foreigner from the land of Syria. And so
to-day I cannot come here to '

A loud shout of anger stopped the speaker.

' You are insulting us ! '

' Who are you to talk like this to respectable
people ? '

' Kick the scoundrel out of the synagogue ! '

' Hang him on the nearest tree I '

' Pitch him over the cliflf ! '

Clambering across the benches, the men of
Nazareth rushed at the Carpenter, and dragged
him out of the meeting-bouse."

Is it not hideous ? One has almost a sense
of impropriety in looking at it.

Thk same or another Mr. Gould has had
" chats " with eighteen " Pioneers of
Modern Thought," which "chats" he has
now put together in a volume. We cannot
help admiring the ingenious way in which
Mr. Gould has found complimentary adjec-
tives for the eighteen. Thus his preface :
" I wish I could chat all the chats again
with witty Momerie, brilliant Crozier, silver-
penned Mrs. Lynn Linton, grand old
Chartist Harney, thoughtful Miss Plumptre,
strenuous George Jacob Holyoake, brave-
spoken Foote, gentle Miss Mathilde Blind,
liberal Picton, scholarly Wheeler, inde-
pendent Voysey, eloquent Coit, anecdotal
Conway, philosophical Coupland, charmingly
metaphysical Mrs. Husband, idealistic Muir-
head, studious Whittaker, and enoyclopeedic
Robertson."

The Idler, under its new control, is a
shade less comic and more actual and
literary than it was. But there has not
been time for a revised policy to take full
effect. Among the March articles is one
that relates the story of the Germ, the Pre-
Raphaelite magazine, another on Great
Britain as a Military Power, a third on
English Cricketers in Australia, and a
fourth on Dore in England. The pictures
are fair, although they cannot compare
with those offered by American magazines.
It is increasingly strange that the Atlantic
should make such a difference.

A FOETNiQHT ago the Outlook propounded
to its readers the following literary enigma :
" Who Wrote this Sonnet 'i It lies before us
on a large quarto half sheet, dulled, ap-
parently, by time, and in form the page —
evidently a proof — distinctly copies the
sumptuous edition, in two volumes, quarto,
of Gay's Poems, issued by subscription
about the first quarter of the eighteenth
century :

" 'We found Him tirft as in the Dells of May
The Dreaming Damfel finds the earlieft

Flower :
Thoughtlefs we wandered in the Evening
Hour:
Aimlefs and pleafed we went our Bandom

Way:
In the foot-haunted City, in the Night,
Among the alternate Lamps we went and

came
Till, like a humorous Thunderbolt, that
Name,
The hated Name of Brash, affailed our Sight.
We faw, we paufed, we entered, feeking Grin.
His Wrath, like a huge Breaker on the
Beach,
Broke inftant forth. He on the Counter

beat
In his infantile Fury ; and his Feet
Danced Impotent Wrath upon the Floor
within.
Still as we fled we heard his Idiot Screech.' ' '

Last week's Outlook contained the answer,
which was astutely and correctly given by
Miss Edith Palliser, the Secretary of th«
Central Society for Women's Suffrage. ' The
answer is — Robert Louis Stevenson. As tc
the how and why of his writing it thf
Outlook says : " Thereby hangs a tale, and
if we can prevail upon our contributor
'C. B.' [the propounder of the "enigma"'
to unfold it, next week or the week follow-
ing, a not unamusing record of Stevensoniar
' High Jinks ' in the early seventies maj
be unrolled."

Meanwhile, the Outlook is embarking or
a reckless series of enigmas. Pleased bj
the notice taken of the circular red badge i'
wears on its cover, our contemporary asks iti
readers to guess " what it is, and whj
chosen." Our own g^ess is, that it wm
taken from a lady's brooch, possibly one
belonging to the wife of a distinguishe(
critic.

A WRITER in the Scots Pictorud says : "I
is not easy to write about Mr. AndrsT
Lang " ; he then writes four columni
about him, saving four inches allotted ti
Mr. Lang's portrait. The article ii
gossippy, almost audacious ; but in thi
following 2)as8age Mr. Lang's literar;
characteristics are felicitously touched :

" His quaUty is the most delicate, intangibl
thing in the world. As some one has put it
he has the art of giving in a single, sure, deft
apparently careless touch, the feeling of man;
things widely separate : of men's dreams ii
olden time and men's thoughts to-day ; o
ancient tale and the gentle modem derision o
it, with the delight in ' Elzevirs,' the love of al
quaint relics, and that passion for Nature an'
the outdoor life which often exists apart froi
these other likings. The Uterary effect is
thing by itself, a thing which cannot b
described. Mr. Lang has been compared t
the jongleur, who, in the castles of old, usedt
make the days so bright for rusty barons am
fair wearied ladies that tinie was measured b;
his visits. The comparison is not imflt. Gay
intimate, softly fascinating, our ' worthy
would have been a very king of the wanderinf
clan, singing now of a Court of Love, now o
Palestine, with a strange, far-away grace
while his eyes looked askance, dreaming of ol(
gods, old mysteries, and the riddle of existence
Something more than ayo7!(?/e«r he undoubted!;
is, but that first and that last, with store o
learning ever ready to the touch of the anglinj
fancy."

A WRITER in the Westminster Review sur
veys the " Dog in Literature." The articli
will interest dog-lovers, who, however, an
reminded that, with one immortal exception
Homer used the dog as a type of shameless
ness, and that in the Bible the dog is men
tioned only with disgust. The writer mign
have added thatShakespearescarcelyaxiknoff

ledges intimate friendship between dog am
man. More often than not his reference
to dogs are uncomplimentary. Theseus ani
Hippolita's praise of the hounds of Sparta i
splendid, but it is not the language of «
intimate love. And the lord and huntsma;
in " The Taming of the Shrew " who die
course so weU about Clowder and Silve
and Belman love their dogs as huntsmei
rather than as men. Oddly enough, tli

March 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

291

liter, Mr. J. Hudson, entirely omits to
lention Launce and liis dog, in " The Two
entlenien of Verona." Yet in Launce's
jmplaints and upbraiding of his "cruel-
earted cur," who has " no more pity in
im than a dog," there is an ironical sug-
estion of real dog and man attachment.

Among Mr. Hudson's less familiar doggy
slections is Sir Edwin Arnold's rendering
f an Eastern legend, in which an adulteress
ho is being led out to be stoned is saved
irough a dog. On the way she sees the
og lying in the sun half dead with thirst,
nd she tenders the poor animal her shoe
lU of water :

" But the King,
Riding within his litter, marked this thing :
' The law is that the people stone thee dead
For that which thou hast wrought ; but there

is come
Fawning aroxmd thy feet a witness dumb,
Not heard upon thy trial.

I hold rule
lu Allah's stead, who is " the merciful,"
And hope for mercy ; therefore, go thou free —
I dare not show less pity unto thee ! ' "

A LECTURER at Highgate has been ex-

aining, for the benefit of literary pilgrims,

10 means bj' which they may identify the

isition of Andrew Marvell's cottage on

ighgate HiU, It stood, he said, next door

Lauderdale Hoxise, where Nell Owynne

ice lived, and, when Sir Sydney Waterlow

zed it to the ground, he, the lecturer,

ked to be allowed to place a stone on the

e. Sir Sj'dney said that in all probability

e wliole of tlie land would soon be built

and such a mark would therefore be

Jdden. He, however, consented to place

le stone from the cottage doorstep in the

■^ill adjoining Highgate Hill, exactly

posite the former entrance to the cottage,

d to this day the stone remains as the only

ninder that the famous writer and politi-

c n once lived at Highgate.

Mr. John Lane's remarkable gift for
Blowing a book with a dainty and alluring
dipe and form is again displayed in the
Ijle volume on Journalism for TFomen, by
w. E. A. Bennett, which has just reached
d The cover is bright and charming. A
smet-clad dame, presumably a woman
jflmalist, points to an upward path wind-
IB through a green landscape. The design
iabold and quite successfid, and it strikes
tlj keynote of a pleasant and practical
w>'k. It were well if more publishers
ralised the relationship that should exist
bi ween the outside and inside of a book.

Under the title, "The Epic of Ladies,"
a Cambridge poet, who hides his identity,
inhe Granta, under the simple letter " K,"
vw dexterously chaffs Mr. Samuel Butler's
tljry that the Odyssei/ was written by a
w Qan. Thus :

n axiom, so safe and sure
That everyone may know it, is
he simple fact, no more obscure,
That Homer was a poetess ;
be marks of female stylo wo meet
jiu every single line of his,
jpparent in those dainty feet
I And harmonies divine of his.

Nay, if a man in Homer's lore

Is reckoned very well up, he
Ascribes the cantos twenty-four

Undoubting, to Penelope,
And thus, though long in darkoess sealed,

Appears the whole reality ;
The secret is at length revealed

Of Homer's personality.

Thus all those wondrous wanderings

And perils of Ulysses's
Turn out to be imaginings

(Embroidered) of his missis's ;
And long ere woman learued to ride

Like Shorland or like Michael,
A harder wheel she knew to guide,

The ancient Epic Cycle."

A Correspondent writes :

" In the recently published work, Annala of
a Publishing House ; William Blackwood and his
Sons, their Magazine and Friends, by the late
Mrs. Oliphant, the authoress says of the
Scots Magazine, referring to the events of the
year 1817, ' Constable's small magazine, which
they (Pringle & Cleghom) managed for a short
time, soon went the way of all ' dull periodicals.'
For a ' dull ' periodical, none has been more
quoted from except its English contemporary,
the Oeuileman's Magazine ; but regarding its dis-
continuance, which did not happen till 1826,
aU bibliographers appear to be at fault. Lo^vndes
says of the Scots Magazine and the Edinburgh
Magazine and Literary Miscellany, ' This and the
preceding periodical were driven out of the field
soon after the appearance of Blackwood's Maga-
zine.' The facts are, that the Miscellany was
purchased by Constable and incorporated with
his Scots Magazine, and its title added in 1803 ;
and the Scots Magazine was purchased from
Alexander Cowan, the trustee on Constable's
estate, on July 12, 1826, by WilUam Black-
wood, although, strange to say, he did not
incorporate the ancient magazine with his own
and yoimger periodical, Blackwood's Magazine,
the usual practice of a publisher under similar
circumstances. The latter fact, discovered by
Mr. G. W. Niven some time ago, was communi-
cated to the pages of the Scots Magazine (Cowan
& Co., Perth) in February, 189G, in an article
entitled ' The Scots Magazine, 1739-1826,' but
evidently Mrs. Oliphant did not avail herself of
the information there given. The evidence of
the sale of the copyright is contained in the
following advertisement, which appeared in the
Edinburgh Evening C'ourant of July 27, 1826,
a file of which for that year may bo consulted
in the Mitchell Library, Glasgow. It is as fol-
lows : ' Edinburgh Magazine : A new series of
the Scots Magazine. The Trustee upon the
Sequestrated Estate of Messrs. Archibald Con-
stable & Co. begs to inform the subscribers to
the above Work that the Publication of it is now
discontinued, the copyright having been pur-
chased by Mr. Blackwood. Edinburgh, 12ih
July, 1826.' As Mrs. Oliphaut's work purports
to give an authoritative history of Blackwood's
Magazine, it is natural to expect the fact to which
attention is now called should have received
mention, but, as already stated, the authoress —
like the bibliogi-aphers — appears to have been
unacquainted with the transaction. "

Mr. George Eedway writes : "I shall feel
much obliged if you will make known to
your readers that I have decided to print a
special presentation edition of E. Farquhar-
son Sharp's Dictionary of J''nglish Authors,
recently published, in order that bo?ia fido
booksellers may obtain a copy for tlioir
personal use without expense. Country
booksellers applying for a copy should state
conveyance, and the book will be delivered
free into the hands of their London agent.

Town booksellers may receive the book
through their collectors ; but immediate
application in writing is necessary, as the
number printed will, of course, depend on
the extent to which this offer is accepted."

The little volume, entitled Formby Reminis-
cences, which was originally printed for
private circulation only, has met with so
great a demand that it has been decided
to reprint an edition for general sale. This
wiU be published by Messrs. WeUs Gardner,
Darton & Co. during the course of the
present month. The author, Mrs. Jacson,
is a grand-niece of the first Sir Eobert Peel.

The Eeligious Tract Society, which will
be 100 years old in May, 1899, proposes to
inaugurate its Centenary Celebration on
Tuesday, the 22nd of the present month.
At three o'clock p.m. on that day a meeting
will be held in the Mansion House, at which
the Lord Mayor will preside, and the claims
of the Society wiU be advocated by the
Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of
Meath, the Bishop of London, and others.
At seven p.m., on the same day, another
meeting will be held in the Queen's Hall,
Langham-place. To meet the vastly in-
creased claims on the Society, which assists
publication work in 226 languages, it is
proposed to raise a special Centenary Fund,
as a fitting commemoration of the hundredth
year of the Society's existence.

M. Edouard Eod will give a lecture at
Stafford House, St. James's, on Wednesday,
March 23, at a quarter to four p.m., on
"Le Eoman Fran^ais Contemporain." The
chair will be taken by the Marquess of
Uufferin and Ava. Tickets can be obtained
from Mile. Souvestre, 42, Onslow- gardens,
S.W., or Mrs. Augustine Birrell, 30, Lower
Sloane-street, S.W.

M. Boutet de Monvel is to be followed
to America by M. Carolus Duran, who also
has commissions to paint portraits there.
These visits should be very profitable.
English artists must regret tliat American
taste in pictures is so inveterately French.

Messrs. William Andrews & Co. are
about to issue A Booh About Bells, by the
Eev. G. S. Tyack, author of The Historic
Dress of the Clergy, ^r. It will be fully
illustrated.

Mr. JosEPn Hatton's new novel will be
published this month by Messrs. Hutchinson,
who have lately issued the fifth edition of
the same author's The Dagger and the Cross.
The new story will be called The Vicar,
and will be a story of the day, the scenes
alternating between London and a Worcester
village.

The next number, the last but one, of
Mr. W. Eothenstoin's series of English
Portraits, will be published immediately. It
wiU contain drawings of Sir Henry Irving
and Mr. George Gissing.

292

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 12 1898.

HAMLET AND "WE BEELINEE8."

I CANNOT congratulate the friends of Shake-
speare in Germany upon their treatment of
the Lyceum Company which visited Berlin
this month. "Hamlet" was played in the
New Eoyal Theatre, with Mr. Forbes
Eobertson in the title-role, and Mrs. Patrick
Campbell as Ophelia ; and on the morrow
of the performance the whole Berlin Press,
with but one or two honourable exceptions,
damned Mr. Eobertson with the faint praise
that he was interesting, but not convincing.
I am not qualified to defend the actor's
merits against the strictures of expert critics.
As a mere layman in the stalls, I am glad to
put on record that his wonderful gift of elo-
cution revealed to me fresh beauties in
Shakespeare's text. In the rebuke, for
instance, which Hamlet addresses to Horatio
against the things " dreamt of in your
philosophy," I had hitherto always heard the
emphasis put upon the pronoun. Mr.
Eobertson, however, laid the stress on
" philosophy," which is obviously right.
It refers back to the Prince's resolve
to " wipe away ... all saws of books,
all forms, all pressures past," and it
removes the touch of assumption which
makes the couplet so serviceable to quote.
In the great soliloquy, again, in the third
act, I fancy that, if this were the time
and place, I could prove Mr. Eobertson's
delivery to be nearer to Shakespeare's in-
tention than that of Herr Josef Kainz in
the Deutscher Theater in Berlin. Where
the latter is turbulent and aggressive, with
the audience obviously in his eye, Mr.
Eobertson simply let us overhear him as
his meditation slowly grew to shape. Yet
more, in the play-acting scene, where an
English actor cannot but study the effect of
Maclise's picture in the National Gallery,
Herr Kainz' vehemence is a serious error
in my sight. Shakespeare never meant
Hamlet to be fidgety, but the fleeting
emotions of the Prince's spirit were faith-
fully reflected on Mr. Eobertson's mobile
features.

But my quarrel with the Berlin public
goes deeper than this. It was unmannerly
that the Teuton neighbour on my right
rose and went out in the middle of the play
with a " this will never do " upon his lips.
It was distracting that my left-hand neigh-
bour should have been cutting the leaves
of his German text the while the play was
in progress. Such lapses from good taste
can be forgiven ; but what I find harder to
forgive is the totally perverse point of view
from which the critics approached the occa-
sion. It is far from my purpose to belittle
what I only very imperfectly understand.
Shakespeare's debt to Germany cannot be
estimated too high. In a sense he was dis-
covered by the German commentators, as he
was certainly adopted for their own. Private
rights of ownership in this priceless property
it would be idle to maintain and futile to
grudge. Carlyle's fine dictum settied the
matter long since : " We are all poets when
we read a poem well." Such recreation,
however, is possible to the tyro in Shake-
spearean lore. The problem of the quartos,
the mystery of the lost Hamlet, the research
into the Prince's age, these matters are not

essential to an intelligent enjoyment of the
play. It is as well, by the way, that this
should be so, for the scholars are as hope-
lessly divided as ever. Prof. Dr. Doring, of
Berlin, for instance, in his Neuer Fersuch zur
aesthetisclwn Erklilrung der 7Vfl^6(?tV(Gaertner,
1898), identifies the Hamlet of the first re-
cension with the W. H. of the earlier sonnets,
and refers them both to William Herbert,
Earl of Pembroke. But now Mr. Sidney
Lee has proved that Thorpe would never
have addressed my lord of Pembroke without
the titles of his rank. And if W. H. is not
Lord Pembroke, what becomes of Dr.
Doring's whole contention : " LosKisung
Hamlets von Pembrocke ist das Wort des
Eatsels " ?

What should have become of aU the
dust which the scholars have raised about
our ears, as we listened to Mr. Forbes
Eobertson as Hamlet ? The great building
of Kroll's Theatre in Berlin was filled
in all places which command a view of
the stage. A princess was in the boxes and
an ambassador in the stalls. The British
residents in Berlin had assembled to do
honour to their countrymen ; but the bulk of
the house — as a tailor's apprentice could have
proved — was composed of Germans. Forty
years, save one, had passed since Shakes-
peare's German friends had entertained
him in his native guise. To many
who had grown up under this disability,
it came as a veritable surprise that
Shakespeare was an English poet. Here
then, I thought, was the opportunity for
which this city in the plain had been
waiting for more than a generation. Now
was the time to correct the foreign conven-
tions, to supplement Schlegel and shake off
the commentators' yoke, to learn to know
Shakespeare as his own people know and
love him. And yet, what was the result ?
Most of them would not realise that they
had suffered a disability at aU. They failed
even to appreciate its removal, and turned
the tables on their benefactors, crying out
for the forty years in the desert. With the
almost unique exception of the able critic
of the Vossische Zeitung — honoris causa nomino
— one after one they rejected the brilliant
lesson which had been taught them. One
after one they turned away from an English-
man's rendering of an Englishman's play
for the simple reason that it was English.
This fault was more than the common
prejudice — less common by far in Germany
than among ourselves — against everything
foreign. It was genuine jealousy for
Shakespeare's fame, a genuine and seem-
ingly ineradicable belief that Schlegel' s
text and Josef Kainz' personation are
truer and nearer to the Shakespearean
Hamlet than the ipsissima verha in Mr.
Forbes Eobertson's mouth. One critic wrote
that " the just demands which we Berliners
make of the actor of Hamlet were by no
means satisfied," and another appeared to
formulate those demands by saying 'Hamlet'
in Germany is almost better known than
'Faust ' ; the man of culture can repeat whole
passages by heart ; the ' Hamlet ' problem is
always with us, and the performances of the
best interpreters are familiar to the smallest
detail." A third critic wrote more bluntiy :
" It touches us Germans to the quick to see

Shakespeare, who has become almost mon
one of ourselves than even our own poets
put on the boards in a foreign dress. Thii'
applies above all to "Hamlet," whose turm
of expression have gone straight into th«
German treasury. The sense of foreignnest
which an English Hamlet creates ii
increased by the peculiar style in which, m
we saw last night, the dramatic art o:
England moves. England is the land o;
tradition — even in art." Oh, ye Qermam
and Berliners, confounding thus blindly th(
spheres of native and foreign, what style anc
tradition should the English stage conservi
but those of Shakespeare, the Englishman i
My goosequiU would fain borrow a feathei
from Matthew Arnold's pen to deal ade
quately with the last of these citations. Foj
while I am angrily casting about how t(
turn " smug " and " priggish " mon
courteously, the lightning of his irony woulc
have played upon your pretensions, woulc
have stript your self-assertiveness bare
would have probed your feelings, thui
touched to the quick by the sound of Shake
speare in his mother-tongue, would hav(
pressed the point home again and agaii
with a grim facility of a master-hand unti
you cried out for mercy. What is the valui
of this Philistine convention that Hamlet ii
more German than English ? What are th<
counterfeits in the "German treasury" t(
the jewels from Shakespeare's lips? Wha
is the gain of your "men of culture " abov(
ours that you should be so hyper-sensitiv(
to disillusion? I do not question the ex
ceUence of Schlegel's rendering. It almos
ranks with the English Bible among thi
masterpieces of the translator's art. Bu
there is nothing in it from a literary poin
of view which can justify this talk abou
demands.

Appropiately enough, the fourth volumi
of the re-issue of Schlegel and Tieck'
Shakespeare, which Prof. Brandt is editinj
for the Bibliographical Institute in Leip
zig, was published at the same time a
the English company visited Berlin. I
contains three plays, "Eomeo and Juliet,'
"Hamlet," and "Othello," to each o
which Dr. Brandt has supplied a brie
introduction and notes. I liave read one
more their "Hamlet" in this "treasury'
side by side with the Temple volume, and
admirable as it undoubtedly is, if it spoil
them for the English version, then they hav
no ear for language. To the lovers o
Shakespeare I need hardly apologise fo
selecting one passage in iUustratioi)
Ophelia's speech, when Hamlet leaver hei
in act Lii., sc. i., runs in German as follows

" O welch ein edler Geist ist hier zerstort!
Des Hofmann's Auge, des Gelehrten Zunge,
Des Krieger's Ann, des Staates Blum' un

HofEuung,
Der Sitte Spiegel und der Bildung Muster,
Das Merkziel der Betrachter : ganz, ganzhin
Und ich, der Frau'n elendeste und iimiste,
Die seiner Schwiire Honig sog, ich sehe
Die edle, hochgebietende Vernunft
Mistonend wie verstimmte Glocken jetzt;
Dies hohe Bild, die Zi'ige bliih'nder Jugend,
Durch Schwarmerei zerriittet : weh' inir,weh(
Dass ich sah, was ich sab, und sehe, was ic

As a whole and in detail it is demonstrabl
inferior to the original. Without beiO:

March 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

203

I hypercritical, where, we may ask, is " the
I observed of all observers " in " das Merkziel
! der Betrachter " ? How does " die seiner
I Schwiire Honig sog " reproduce the magic
of the line "That suck'd the honey of his
music vows " ? or " mistonend wie verstimmte
Glocken jetzt" express "Like sweet bells
jangled, out of tune and harsh " ? "Where
are the rhythm and alliteration and sugges-
tion of

" That unmatch'd form and feature of blown
youth
Blasted with ecstasy,"

in the translator's conventional rendering ?

How different, even, are the associations of

" Schwiirmerei " from the Shakespearean

I "ecstasy." Has Germany missed nothing

; of beauty by accepting the substitute for so

I long, and was it a tenable attitude, when

Mrs. Patrick Campbell made Shakespeare's

music more melodious, to pretend that they

preferred their own :

"When they wiped their mouths and went
their journey,
Throwing him for thanks — 'But drought
was pleasant ' " ?

There was, as I have said, one exception
to this wUful blindness of the German
critics. One writer had the grace and wit
to see that the rare visit of the Lyceum
company to Berlin should be used to rectify
the Berlin standard. I conclude this protest
by quoting the following sentences from the
evening edition of the Vbssische ZeHimg. It
is not too late to hope that their candour
md courage will win their due effect :

"Mr. Robertson's artistic wisdom," wrote the

;ritic, "prompted him to lay every stress upon

;he brimming life of the soul. Hamlet moved

lis fellows like a kiad of sleep-walker,

oft of speech and gesture, good-hearted,

gentle-minded, but with something strange

ipon him. When they addressed him, he turned

ilent, and looked doubtfully at them, like

trangers alien to his kind. He hstened less to

heir words than to his own inward voice. But

?hen he was alone, then Hamlet came to Ufe

udeed. Then, in self-communing, his sensitive

pirit woke up, and in tones of thunder he

poke to his second self, as though another man

rere present before him in the flesh. This

isionary, keen- sighted, transcendental trait in

[amlet, which I never saw worked out before,

fas admirably suited to Mr. Rolsertson.

here we had England itself, the land

f mists and ghosts, and then we rea-

sed that Shakespeare's ghosts were some-

iing more than superstition. . . . Next to this

ender, tender Hamlet, a tender, slender

phelia — mimosa next to mimosa. I gained

le impression that Mrs. Patrick Campbell's

3rf ormance was not adequately appreciated by

jU" German pubhc, perhaps because they

loked for a more conventional attractive-

388, and, therefore, were correspondingly

sappointed. The more emphatically should

be stated that this Ophelia was fidly

orthy of this Hamlet. She, too, was

oroughly English, with nothing of that

bethe's girUshness, ripe, sweet and sensuous,

nich our crass German interpreters have gra-

lally evolved into an ideal of sinful love, the

ecise Antipodes of the true OpheUa. Mrs.

itriok Campbell gave us the real Ophelia of

lakespeare, a maiden shy, pensive, impression-

le, all sweet yielding and timid innocence.

sr commonest jjhrase was : ' I will obey ' ; her

■ "'"lest instinct was fear. She was like a dove

fluttering in the storm, and falling broken to

the ground

" OpheUa and Hamlet, as rendered to us by
Mrs.CampbeU and Mr. Robertson, were the fore-
nmners of a cleaner morality and a tenderer
imagination, bom too soon into a world too harsh
for them, ' aristocrats of nervous sensibility,' as
the modern catch-word terms it, who owed
their misfortunes to their too early birth."

L. M.

her

ME. MEREDITH'S ODE.

I HAVE read Mr. Meredith's Ode in the
current Cosmopolis with an amazement
passing words. Amazement for its power,
amazement for its sins, its flagrancies, its
defiant pitching to the devil of all law
recognised even by the boldest, the most
scornful of merely conventional tradition ;
amazement — for it fulfils its title, it is itself
an anarchy, a turbulence, tumultuously
eruptive as the Eevolution in its first un-
chaining. To say it is not a perfect poem
woidd bo mild. It challenges all order ; it
has every faidt within a poet's compass,
except the tame faults, except lack of
inspiration. On the plenitude, the unde-
niable plenitude, of its aggressive force, it
seems to stake everything. No one can
complain that Mr. Meredith fears his fate too
much. I am in time with most audacity,
but Mr. Meredith leaves me gasping.

You must read the poem once, as you
play a difficult fantasia once, merely to see
how it goes ; a second time, to begin to read
it ; a third time, to begin to realise it. All
the arduous jjower and all the more repel-
lent vices of Mr. Meredith's poetic style are
here at grips, exalted by mutual antiposition
and counteraction. Never has he been
more intermittently careless of grammatical
construction, obscuring what is already
inherently difficult. He storms onward like
his own France, crashing and contorting in
his path the astonishing sentences, now
volcanic and irresistibly thimdering, now
twisted and writhing or furiously splintered.
The metre is likewise ; lines blocked, im-
mobile, inflexible, with needless rubble of
words, or whirring all ways like snapped
and disintegrated machinery ; yet at times
forcing their way to Tightness through sheer
inward heat, and leaping like a geyser-
spout — magnificently impressive.

For the Ode is wonderful, though an un-
lawful wonder. The first nine stanzas,
with all their perverse difficulties and dis-
features, are full of astonishing imagery,
passages like the loosing of pent fires. The
poem has a devil in it. By no other word
can we describe the magnetic intensity of
its repellentness and arrestingness. Those
who overcome their first recoil must end in
submission — if protesting submission — to
its potency. No youth could rival the
nether furnaces of this production of age, no
young imagination conceive these images
which outpour by troops and battalia. Mr.
Meredith's own language can alone figure
the poem :

" Ravishing as red wiue in woman's form,
A splendid Maenad, she of the delirious

laugh,
Her body twisted flames with the smoke-cap

crowned.

. . . . who sang, who sang
Intoxication to her swarm,
Revolved them, hair, voice, feet,
carmagnole."

That splendid outburst is all for which I
have room. If this Ode be not a success
(as I wish I might persuade myself it is),
more power has gone to such a failure than
would make a score of reputations. And
assuredly much, very much, it wore blind
to call anything but success.

Fkancis Thompson.

WHAT THE PEOPLE EEAD.

XI.— A WiFS.

" There's another ! " she exclaimed, as she
threw down the book. " Three books from
Mudie's this morning, and not a single one
I want to read."

" What book is that? " I asked.
" The Disaster" she said.
" It has been well reviewed," I remarked.
" One notice said it was better than Zola
and better than Stephen Crane," she said,
" and so I ordered it. But it's a translation ;
and I hate translations ; they never seem
real. And it's all about the French — ^and
years ago. I'm sure I don't care what
French people were doing when I was in my
cradle."

" Well, what are the others ? "
She picked them up and read the titles
from their backs.

" Simon Bale and Shrewsbury."
" By very capable authors," I said.
" Yes, but why does Anthony Hope want
to write about people he can't know any-
thing about — and I don't care anything
about ? "

" The historical novel," I said, " if weU
done, gives you a sort of insight into a

period which "

"Pouf ! " she said. " Do you suppose I
read novels to get insights into periods ? "

" You read them to be amused, no doubt,"
I said. "But isn't it possible to combine

amusement with "

"No," she interrupted. "When I am
instructed I am not amused. Besides, one
isn't instructed. When I read a historical
novel I know all the time that the people
aren't real people ; and even if they were,
they're dead. And I really don't care much
about people who have been dead for
hundreds of years."

"Then do you like novels about the
future — Looking Backwards, or The Time
Machine ? "

She jiondered a moment, wrinkling her
brows. " Well, I can't say that I exactly
like them," she said ; " but one has to read
them, because everyone talks about them.
But how can you be reaUy interested in
people who never existed — people you can
never possibly meet ? "

" Then the novel you want is a novel
dealing with people of the present time?
The Society novel ? "

" Oh, no ! Not the Society novel. The
people are less real than — than the Martians.
Now, let me see — I think, if I could order
a novel, I would get Mr. Hope, or Mr.
Wells, or Mr. Frankfort Moore, to sit down

294

THE ACADEMY.

[Maboh 12, 1898.

and write a story about the people he knows,
the Bort of people one meets every day, only
— you know — ^put into strange situations.
They can do it, I'm sure. Look at / Forbid
the Banns, and The God in tlie Car. Mr.
Frankfort Moore wrote one of them, didn't
he? And yet he will write stories about
stupid people in the last century."

" Then you want stories about the present
time?"

" Of course. It's the present time now,
isn't it? And now is the most important
time."

" And about people you know something
of?"

" AYell, not about Zulus, like those stories
I had the other day. llui White Hecatomb,
wasn't it ? "

" What about Louis Becke ? "

" There are always some white people in
his tales?"

" And what about Many Cargoes ? Jacobs
writes about bargees, and you don't know
any bargees."

" Yes, I liked Many Cargoes. But, then,
you — you — I don't know, I think I should
like to know those bargees."

" And what about A Child of the Jago ?
I should have thought that the people in
that were a long way further away from
you than the people of the Middle Ages.
And you've read that twice."

"Oh, but it gives one such an insight
into "

" I thought you didn't read novels to get
an insight into anything."

" Oh, bother ! How should I know why
I like a novel ? "

She picked up the three offending books,
and tied a piece of string roimd them.

"You a/re going out," she said. "Do
leave these at the library and get me some
more. I don't mind what they are, so long
as ihey are about nice people — who are
alive."

I took the books.

"But — mind," she said, " nothing about
Cavaliers — or foreigners."
" I wiU do my best," I said.
"Or Jews," she added, as I reached the
door.

THE WEEK.

couraging and paralysing effects of insecurity of
life, liberty, and property. They know that
these races are possessed of high intelligence
and considerable artistic skill, as displayed in
their fine brass and leather work. They hnow
that the early marriages in those latitudes, and
the fecundity and vitality of the negro races,
have, through countless generations, largely
counteracted the appaUing destruction of life
resulting from slave-raiding, and that under
reasonable conditions of security the existing
population might soon be trebled and yet live
in far greater material comfort than at present.
They know, in short, that all that is needed to
convert the Niger Sudan into an African India
is the strong hand of a European protector."

But the interest of Lieutenant Vandeleur's
pages is not wholly political or military-
Opening the book at random we come upon
this picture of a valley which was

"UteraUy covered with game of all sorts;
thousands of zebra were placidly feeding with
innumerable herds of antelope of different
species— wildebeest, hartebeest, a few mpala,
and many gazelles, while away in the distance
there were a few stately giraffe. Secure in
their numbers, they seemed to scorn the
presence of three lions which were eagerly
watching them from one flank, whUe in the
middle of the moving mass stood two great
im wieldly rhinoceros, which contrasted strangely
with the diminutive gazelles."

The book is well illustrated, and contains
some good examples of military sketching.

THEEE bulky volumes of travel give
character to the past week's output
of books. A timely and important work is
Lieutenant Seymour Vandeleur's Campaign-
ing on the Upper Nile and Niger. This is a
book which all who are desirous to under
stand the Niger question, now becoming so
acute between France and England, wiU do
well to turn. The circumstances under
which the French occupied Bussa and Borgu
are fully described. Sir George T. Goldie
supplies an Introduction to the volume ; and
from it we quote this inspiring and in-
structive passage :

" All geographers and many pubhcists are
familiar with the fact that the region in
question possesses populous towns and a fertile
soil, and, most important of all, races whose
industry is untiring, notwithstanding the dis-

islanders. Indeed, one of his aims is to
show

"how superior in hapjjiness the healthy,
singing, laughing, well-fed, fat, sober, land-
owning, young or old South Sea Island savage,
erect and tall, without a care or a curse, is to
the white slave of Stepney, to the drunken
barbarian of Glasgow Wynds, to the landless,
joyless, Wiltshire hind, marching stohdly, with
bowed back and bent head, day after day nigher
the workhouse, and, more than all, to the
starving, diseased, little savage children of
Deptford, growing up in Old England, a
danger and a curse to the next generation."

Mr. Reeves has illu.strated his book with a
number of fine photographs of South Sea
Islanders, men and women, especially the
beautiful women of Samoa and Tahiti and
Haapi. Some of these girls might be the
heroines of Mr. Louis Becke's stories of
" Eeef and Palm."

If Lieutenant Vandeleur's book allies itself
to the Niger trouble, Mr. Lionel Decle's
Three Tears in Savage Africa throws light
on problems connected with our South
African possessions and interests. The
dedication of the book to Mr. Cecil Rhodes
is significant. Mr. Decle is of French
extraction, and, according to the account
which Mr. H. M. Stanley gives of him in the
Introduction he has written to the volume,
he has been a great traveller .from boyhood.
In 1890 he was entrusted with a scientific
mission by the French Government. On
his return to France " he was reproached
with having been too partial towards the
British Administrations in the various
countries he had travelled, and especially
with having been too biassed against the
French padres in Uganda, and having
charged them with political intrigue." Later,
Mr. Decle accompanied his friend Mr. Cust,
of the Pall Mall Gazette, on a nine months'
tour in South Africa. The great journey
northward to the Zambesi, and thence to
Lake Tanganika, which this book records,
was begun in 1891, and was carried out
with the usual quantum of adventures and
disagreeables. Mr. Stanley answers for the
readableness of the book : " No page is
dull . . . his touch is light, his language
clear and idiomatic, his tastes are simple,
and the result is one of the brightest books
of travel we ever read."

The South Sea Islands are the subject of
a book of travel, entitled Brown Men and
Women, by Mr. Edward Reeves, a New
Zealand writer, who knows the islands well.
Mr. Reeves is very bitter against political
missionaries, and against all who interfere
with the freedom and native traits of the

Mr. Gregory^ Letter-Box, i813-30, is a
curiously entitled book. The "Mr. Gregory"
is the Right Honourable WUliam Gregory,
whose autobiography was edited by Lady
Gregory four years ago. Lady Gregory
now supplements that work by these
selections from her husband's grandfather's
political correspondence. Mr. Gregory was
Under-Secretary for Ireland from 1813 to
1831. Lady Gregory writes :

" I see no need to apologise for their pub-
lication, purchase and perusal being non-
compulsory, but I may quote a sentence of Lord
Eosebery's : ' The Irish question has never
passed into history, for it has never passed out
of poUtics,' And also a word said to me by
Mr. Leeky, that far less is known of the early
jjart of this century in Ireland than of the close
of the last."

There wiU be found in this volume letters to
and from Lord Wellesley, Mr. Peel, Mr.
Croker, Lord Talbot, and others. There
can be no question that the book is important
to students of Irish history.

Me. Eenest Rhys has put forth a volume
of Welsh Ballads inspired by, or directly
paraphrased from, old Welsh models. In
his notes at the end of the volume Mr. Khys
gives the following account of his aims :

' ' In the foregoing poems, whether original
or not, it wiU be found that what may be called
the traditional method has generally been
followed in transferring "Welsh words or Welsh
characteristics into Eughsh verse. The idio-
syncrasy of Welsh verse can at best, however,
be very imperfectly maintained in au Eughsh
medium ; and the present writer has oared
more to keep to the spirit than the exact letter
of the old poets in The Blade Book of Car-
marthen and The Bed Book of Ilergest. Their
poems are given here, accordingly, rather as
paraphrases than translations ; with everythuig
freely eliminated that seemed likely to cause
friction, or make their chances of being imme-
diately enjoyed, as poetry must be if it is to
have its free and full effect."

The second volume is issued in Messrs.
George Bell & Son's edition of the works of
George Berkeley. It will be remembered
that the Introduction to the first volume was
written by the Eight Hon. A. J. BaUour.
The bulk of the present volume is taken up
by Berkeley's Alciphron, a work to which
the general reader to-day is a stranger.

Maboh 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

295

editor, Mr. George

uvortlieloss the
impson, writes:

" Alciphron was, aud is likely to be, the most
•uerully enjoyed of Berkeley's volumes. It is
uply and variously entertaining, with merits
it far outbalance its defects .... Were its
lilosophical value . . . less it woidd still be
gerly read, for, in an age of delicate aud
mmetrical prose, it stands distinguished by
delicacy and symmetry."

Alciphron consists of seven dialogues, in
riioh the Free-thinker is considered as
heist, libertine, enthusiast, scorner, cynic,
staphysician, fatalist and sceptic.

Mk. Veknon Blackburn has put forth a
toely volume of musical appreciations
if.der the title of The Fringe of an Art. A
rotogravure portrait of Gounod faces the
^le-page.

THE BOOK MARKET.

I IE HUMOUES OP BOOKSELLING.

jT E. JOHN SHAYLOE, of Messrs. Simp-
l\ kin, Marshall & Co., is perhaps the
est bibliopole in London, and his store of
bjjkseUing anecdotes must be well-nigh in-
laustible. He has just given a budget of
so to the Publishers' Circular, from which
take leave to reprint a portion of Mr.
lylor's liighly entertaining article. Mr.
lylor writes :

The following specimens of humour are
yhout classification, and readers must
lude for themselves to which class they
i^)ng, collected as they have been at
a lom from many hundreds of a similar
Iracter. A scholar and a gentleman
r iring a bookseller's shop inquired for a
r(:slation of Omar Khayyam : ' No,' said
bj bookseller promptly, ' there is no such
ick. Homer wrote the Iliad and the
)( ssey — both of which I have in stock, but
le lid not write the book you are inquiring

0 The bookseller evidently had not heard
f le now popular Persian poet. Another
e(Qtly had an important inquiry for a
0 ; the only clue to which that could be
i' n was that it had a Hermit Crab on the
oy. The intelligent bookseller had no
ifl'ulty in recog^sing that Drummond's
iikral Law was the book required ; on the
till- hand, little intelligence was shown by
i^book seller who instructed his collector
) |y the Journal of Horticulture office for a
^ij of Wilberforce on the Iticamation, he
nijntly thinking that the Incarnation was
vj-iety of the carnation. An inquiry was
QQ made of an assistant for a certain book
oud in russia, when answer was given
laJ he did not think it could be done in
'Ujia, but he thought he could get it done

1 lime. During the briUiant summer of
83 it wUl bo remembered that wasps

A bookseller having

separate occasions a

Wasps, ventured the

>P,

very plentiful.

)tain on three

of Aristophanes'
?n|jn that he believed the copies were
iq<red for some experts who were inquir-

ito the cause of tlie plague,

books is all that is necessary to translate
what works were required when the following
were asked for : ' Earnest Small Travellers,'
and 'Alice the Mysterious,' by Bulwer,
explained themselves. Homer's ' The Ills
he had,' and Cajsar's ' Salvation Wars,'
were only Homer's Iliad and Caesar's
Helvetian fVars slightly altered. 'Curiosities
of a Woman-Hater' was only Curiosities
of Nomenclature. ' Littlo Monster,' by J. M.
Barrie, the author of 'Widow's Thumbs,'
sounds peculiar. It appears rather disloyal
to ask for 'The Queen's Beer,' but it was
Her Majesty's Bear that was wanted. Hall's
'Bear Track Hunting' for Hall's Bric-d-
Brac Hunter ; ' All the Nights ' (Hall &
Knight's) Algebra and 'Sun and Shines'
(Sonnenschein's) Arithmetic show gross
ignorance of educational literature.

Although, according to Dr. Johnson,
' Wit will never make a man rich,' yet
human nature would be poor indeed
without it. Probably this explains the
strange habit of associating a certain class
of imaginary literature with certain days.
Thus regularly on April 1 inquiries would
be made by some small boy, or a bigger
one denuded of wit, for ' The History of the
World before the Creation ' ; another would
inquire for ' A Treatise on the Extraction of
Milk from the Pigeon,' by a ' Practical
Fancier ' ; or, again, ' The Extraordinary
Adventures of Adam's Grandfather,' written
by himself ; failing that, get ' A Pattern of
Eve's Fig Leaves,' by an "Experienced
Dressmaker."

Ignorance on the part of readers is
accountable for the frequent inquiries made
for books supposed to have been written by
certain characters in fiction, such as ' The
Idols of the Market Place,' by Squire
Wendover, mentioned in Robert Elsmere.
' Sweet Bells Jangled,' quoted by Anstey in
The Giant's Robe. 'The PUgrim's Scrip,'
by Eichard Feverel, from G. Meredith's
Ordeal of Richard Feverel, and many times
have the 'Electric Creed,' by Marie CoreUi,
mentioned in The Romance of Two Worlds,
been asked for. . . .

A lady recently asked a London book-
seller if he had in stock the sequel to A
Fallen Angel, by one of them. She believed
there was such a book, but did not know
the exact title ; had he, she suggested. The
Eloping Angels that she could see, as
perhaps that might be the book she was
looking for. 'No,' replied the bookseller,
he had not ; and unwittingly, and without
sufficient reflection, he ventured the remark
that he had in stock the Heavenly Twins,
perhaps that would be the sequel. The re-
coil can be better imagined than expressed."

CORRESPONDENCE.

ME. BARNES, OF ZUMMEEZET (?).

Sib, — I fear that my cameries have not
the symmetry of the ornithorhyncus, or
whatever fascinating lieast it was that the
late Sir Eichard Owen reconstructed from a
single bone. Mr. Andrew Lang, in recon-
structing my arguments from a single short

made me say or imply things which I never
even dreamed of — as he will admit, as soon
as he has done me the honour to peruse the
full text of my paper in the Fall Mall
Magazine. He will then iujknowledge that I
did not attempt " destructive criticism " of
his " native language and literature " ; that
I did not rate the dialect- writers of Scotland
on a level with those of Somerset ; or indulge
in a general orgie of folly. It will give me
the gfreatest pleasure to discuss with Mr.
Lang any of the questions raised in my
causerie or his letter; but if we begin by
criticising what we don't happen to have
read we shall only be darkening counsel.

" Phonetically," says Mr. Lang, " Zummer-
zetese may be interesting, but I confess to being
much more interested in dialects that preserve
words and phrases which modern English has
lost. The dialect of Scotland does preserve
such words and phrases in large numbers. If
Zummerzetese does so, do manus, it is more
interesting than I gathered from a study, by no
means prolonged or elaborate, of the works of
Mr. Barnes."

On this let me say : (1) William Barnes (as
Mr. Lang may discover with no effort
beyond that of reading my article) was not
a Somersetshire, but a Dorsetshire, man, and
used the Dorsetshire dialect. The correction
is, no doubt, trivial ; but we may as well be
accurate.

(2) The dialects of the South- West of
England (of Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and
Cornwall), though qiiite distinct, do pre-
serve largo numbers of words and phrases
which modem English has lost — old English
words, French words, Celtic words. They
are rich in varying degrees: but each is
rich in such words. For proof of tlus I
refer Mr. Lang to the publications of the
English Dialect Society.

(3) But surely dialect in poetry appeals
by something more than this merely philo-
logical interest. We do not, I apprehend,
define or summarise the value of dialect in a
song of Burns by saying that it preserves
words which modem English has lost. To
certain kinds of verse dialect adds a peculiar
charm — and a charm which is essentially
poetical rather than pliilological.

(4) If Mr. Lang deny this, I retire. If
he grant it, I proceed, and urge that, though
Barnes be a vastly inferior poet to Bums,
there is no reason why ho should be denied
tlio chance which has never been denied to
Burns; no reason why he should be for-
bidden to write "elom" for " elm," while
Burns is allowed to write " aik " for " oak."
I submit that if native speech, inflection,
accent, add charm, in Mr. Lang's opinion,
to Northern song, they may jiossibly add
charm to Southern song. Mr. Lang, as a
Northener, may not be able to perceive it
there : but I do not see why he should
exalt that simple accident into a principle
of criticism. — I am, &c.,

A. T. QuiLLEB-Couca.

mind conversant with the titles of | quotation in your admirable paper, has ]

SiK, — It seems to me tliat Mr. Lang, with
characteristic but amiable indiscretion, has
entered the lists against Mr. Quiller-Couch
singidarly ill-equi2)ped. If Mr. Lang can
see notiiing in tlie poetry of William Barnes
but " oddly s^ielled English," he is either
painfully ill-acquaiuted with his subject, or

296

THE ACADEMY.

[Maeoh 12, 1898.

shows a lack of appreciation for simple,
direct, and often acutely realised lyric verse,
which, one is surprised to find in so sedulous
a nurse of younger reputations. Indeed, on
the face of it, he is sadly in the dark. To
beg^ with, Barnes did not write in the
Somerset, but in the Dorset, dialect ; I
assure Mr. Lang that there are marked
differences to the trained ear ; and why, in
the name of all wild parallels, compare the
whole of Scots verse-writers with those pro-
duced by a single English county? If a
comparison is to be made at all, let it be
between all England and all Scotland, or, if
Mr. Lang prefer it, say between Dorset and
Boss.

On Mr. Lang's theory that the dialect of
Barnes is only " oddly spelled English," it
may be an interesting exercise for him, and
all of his belief, to give the ordinary
equivalents for such words as these : Anewst,
backbron', amper, blooth, branten, tutti/, marreh,
colepexy, hidybuck, gaily, dunt, drasliel ; and if,
after this, Mr. Lang is prepared to re-
consider Barnes as a poet, let him turn to
such verses as " EUen Brine of Allenburn,"
"Fatherhood," "In the Spring," "The
Love Child," and, as it has always appeared
to me, that wonderful piece of faithfid
realisation, "Evenen in the VUlage." — I
am, &c., C. K. Burrow.

Highgate : March 7.

WHY NOT SCHOOLS IN LITEEATUEE?

Sib, — Tell me why an author, no less
than a painter, should not belong to a
school ? Watts, for instance, paints clearly
under the influence of Titian. Sir John
MUlais has himself called his contribution
to the Diploma Gallery of the Eoyal
Academy " A Souvenir of Velasquez."

Most of us have seen the well-known
remark of Guizot's, that " a great artist is
perpetuated not merely by his own works,
but he collects almost always around him
men who are capable of receiving his inspir-
ation, of being penetrated by his spirit.
While these disciples do not possess that
original genius, which lessons may merely
develop and direct, they are in no sense
copyists, nor do they join in any servile
imitation of the models offered them. They
form, in fact, what is known as a school,
and add but a greater glory to the manner,
the name, and the remembrance of its dis-
tinguished founder."

The same rule applies unquestionably in
literatiu'e. Let us take the two most distin-
guished writers of English prose fiction —
George Meredith and Thomas Hardy. In
the first case, we may discern the influence
of Victor Hugo, Dickens, Carlyle, Disraeli,
Byron, and Euskia, not to mention many
otiiers. In the case of Thomas Hardy,
one finds other spirits at work. His
English style is purer than Mr. Meredith's,
and, while it owes much of its weight to
that philosophic school of which, perhaps,
George Eliot was the most popular ex-
ponent, he writes, at his best, rather
as a poet than a Spencerian psychologist.
Certain things in Mr. Hardy remind us of
Balzac ; lines here and there have the ring
of Swinburne ; yet, on the whole, he owes,
perhaps, less to his predecessors and con-

temporaries in literature than any other
author at present in England.

And what effect have these two men of
genius produced on the younger authors of
Sieir generation? George Meredith has,
undoubtedly, the greater number of so-
called imitators. Men who do not read him
at all are accused of copying him. This
may be due to the fact that both Meredith
and his supposed copyists have an admira-
tion for Victor Hugo. Mr. Hardy, on the
other hand, being an observer of life rather
than a student of books, has a smaller
following, and, indeed, unless a writer
ventures to introduce a rustic into his
stoiy, he need never fear any accusation
of catching the " Hardy trick."

We all remember Andersen's sad, but too
cynical, story of the toy nightingale. The
whistle's note was considered far more
natural, pleasing, and " inevitable " than
the bird's song. The tale is a good one,
but not quite fair to the critical faculty. As
a matter of fact, real singers do not, and
have not in the past, suffered long under
neglect and misprision. And when a genuine
voice has been for a little while overlooked,
the reason is to be found, not in the out-
screaming of a successful impostor, but in
the sweeter singing of some better night-
ingale. And then, after all, some of us
prefer canaries. The cuckoo fascinates
many. Gbeat poets have loved the lark.
Some ladies adore a parrot. Why not be
amiable and leave our neighbours to choose
their own birds ? I, for my part, had a
friend who worshipped a few geese. As
geese, they were charming. My friend, I
remember, found owls, in comparison, a
bore and doves immoral. Are we not
equally capricious about our authors ?
Your dearest genius gets on my nerves.
The boon companion of my sleepless soul
seems, to your mind, a very tedious, a
most pedantic and affected and unreadable
second-rate wretch. Your wife dotes on
the pages of Mrs. So-and-So — a woman
you hate. Your son drenches his youth in
poetry which makes you sick. My sister
can sit spell-boimd on a summer's day over
volumes which I could not read if they were
the last left on this earth. My cousin's
library — his Paradise — would be to me the
tomb of every belief in literary art. Yet
your wife, your son, my sister, and my
cousin are intelligent creatures. They have
a right to their caprices, and could justify
them with chapter and verse from the
judgments of established reviewers. What,
for instance, could one say to a young
gentleman who, on being reproached for
his admiration of an absurd work, quotes
the laurelled and enormous Mr. X. in
support of his vulgarity ?

Now, what, you wiU ask, has all this
pretty jumble about pictures and parrots,
and Victor Hugo, and mistaken relatives, to
do with a Uterary school ? I believe I mean
that this is a large world, and that there is
ample room for masters, disciples, and
readers. Let us by all means take our
nightingale, our owl, or our goose, but let
us know him to be such. My poor friend,
whom I can never quote too often, loved her
geese, not because she thought them stars,
but because they were ordinarily considered

the proverb for stupidity. All I ask is
clearness ; the present impidse seems rather
toward confusion. I see all the newspapers,
and, so far as I can judge, no two critics
agree in their estimate of a book. One may
like it because it is romantic, the other con-
demns it because he has never heard people
talk " like that." Another volume is found
by a family journal a message to the age,
while one is warned by an equally respect-
abJe weekly to lift it with the tongs and
place it where the flames are quickest. In
the more serious branches of literature one
historian is lauded because he is so dull that
no one will trouble to refute his assertions ;
another is denounced because he is so
brilliant that he must be mistaken. One is
quite certain that English history was never
meant to be in the least entertaining. "But
I stay too long with you, I weary you."
(Now and again I venture to quote Shake-
speare, for he is stiU. read a little, even by
those who write at great length about
him). — I am, &c., A Beginnee.

THE BOOKLESS EAST-END.

Sir, — Our attention has been called to
some remarks in your issue of February 26,
under the heading of " The Bookless East-
End," which are obviously intended for our
establishment, and, as some of the remarks
made are in our mind more likely to injure
than to help our business, we feel bound to
address a few words to you on the matter.
It is patent that the writer of the article has
little or no knowledge of second-hand book-
sellers, or he would have known our firm,
which, having been in existence since 1820,
has a reputation almost as well known in
the United States of America as it has in
this country. As your correspondent, in
your issue of March 5, truly points out, we
have by far and away the largest collection
of second-hand books in London. But above
and beyond the different classes of books
enumerated by your correspondent, we have
the largest stock of miscellaneous literature,
not only in London, but in England ; and,
as we number amongst our clients aU sorts
and conditions of men, from the nobihty
down to the humble mechanic, we believe
we may claim that there is one good book-
seller's shop between Aldgate and Stratford,
notwithstanding the opinion of the writer
of your article to the contrary. Trusting,
you wiU insert this,— We remain, yoiu-s truly,
E. George & Son.

[Messrs. George & Son do not seem to
have perceived that our contributor's search
in the East-End was avowedly for new-hol
shops. The mention of Messrs. George &
Son's secondhand-book shop — the importance
of which was well known to our contributor
— was purely incidental, and was certainly
not intended to be uncomplimentary.]

WAGNEEIANA.

Sir, — A few years ago some of the letters
which Eichard Wagner addressed to August
Eoeckel were published, and form an in-
valuable contribution to our knowledge of
the master and of the way in which he
regarded his creations. Written to an
intunate and life-long friend, they are full

Makoh 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

297

the spontaneous expression of his inner
'e, and throw a strong light on the relation
each other of the two sides of his nature —
e artistic and the philosophical. It is in
e seventh of these published letters that
a find a most interesting account of the
screpancy that existed for years between
'^agner the artist and Wagner the philo-
pher, as well as a very clear statement of
bat is in reality the intrinsic value of his
ork.

" The period," he says, " when I began

write from direct intuition dates from

Che Flying Dutchman ' ; this was followed

r ' Tannhauser ' and ' Lohengrin ' ; and

!iatever poetic expression may be found in

ese it must be ascribed to the sublime

igedy of self-renunciation, of the denial of

[e Will — a denial as conscious and volun-

jry as in the end it is inevitable, a denial

liich alone gives deliverance. It is this

liture which imparts to my poetry and

I my music its consecration, without which

il that they may have of pathos and

( power to quicken and kindle emotion

^uld not possibly belong to them."*

jHe then goes on to say that while his

ituitive perception as an artist always

^.ided him wifli such imerring certainty to

[jike self-sacrifice the supreme means

yereby final deliverance is wrought out,

h conclusions as a philosopher had led him

build up a world of optimistic Hellenism,

which the sinking of the individual will

Is, of course, no place.

This curious conflict between reason and

tinct continued so long that he had

itched out a large part of the Nibelungen

amas before he was able to harmonise

philosophical with his artistic nature.

was during the composition of the

G tterdammerung (which was the first part

the tetralogy finished) that the long

iod of " Sturm und Drang " came to an

'.. The original form of the closing scene

o\his drama may be mentioned as the one

iij:ance where the philosophy of the author

oirpowered his intuition, to which in his

pwious works he had invariably remained

tijj. In this case the result was so com-

pltely unsatisfactory that the crisis was

plhaps hastened ; and the offending passage

W! happily rewritten, after the inspiration

of he artist had been fuUy accepted by the

iniiUect of the thinker.

■'he works that followed deal (as we

t expect) more consciously and directly

the deepest questions that concern

ind. If "Tristan and Isolda" de-

•s Love in its intense personal form as

irible torture " (so Wagner describes

liese letters), we may also learn there-

i low it is possible to pass through that

— ,, furnace :

" To lose the pain of consciousness,
And quench at last the life-long thirst
In deepest founts of cosmic Ufe."

'"'last finished work, " Parsifal," portrays
in its sublimated impersonal form,
ulju it is the same thing as (and, indeed,
wc^ld better be called) sympathy, or suf-
fei]ig with (Mitleid) all sentient creatures ;
an^ in this final stage of evolution it is

shown to be the strongest ethical power in
the world. And both dramas demonstrate
(1) the nothingness of external phenomena
in their forms of Time and Space ; (2) the
fact that human suffering is directly propor-
tional to the sharpness of the distinction
which the "ego " draws between itself and
the " non-ego " ; and, furthermore, we learn
that sooner or later, with more sxiffering or
with less, the walls of partition crumble
away, and the Self passes out into the
boundless life of the universe.

A. Brodrick Bxillock.
Eome: Nov. 17, 1897.

EOUND TOWEES.

Sir, — In your review of the reprint
of that discredited volume of Henry
O'Brien's on The Round Towers of Ireland
you offer some suggestions as to the pro-
bable need for these towers, which exist in
Scotland as well as Ireland.

You will pardon me for saying that a
close examination of these towers would
show that in every case your suggestions are
somewhat out of date. The researches of
Dr. Petrie and Mr. Joseph Anderson have
shown very conclusively that, taking into
consideration the form of these towers, their
isolation and their internal arrangements,
as well as by numerous references in the
early annals, they were solely intended to
afford an asylum for the ecclesiastics, and
a place of security for the relics, such as
books, bells, crosiers and shrines, under their
guardianship. These things were regarded
with extraordinary veneration by the Celtic
tribes, and they took remarkable care in
providing a place of safety for them.

The substantial character of the building
attests that these towers were not built for
any temporary purpose, but to resist the
ravages of the Northmen — a constant source
of terror. — Yours truly,

93, Devonport-road : David Stott.

March 5.

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.

* Paris.'

■ riefe an August Roeckel von Richard Wagner.
Leizdg, 1894. V., p. 66 sqq.

M. Zola's Paris has received
ByEBiiieZoia. the instant and careful atten-
tion of English critics, both in
Mr. Vizetelly's translation and in the
original. Yet most of the reviews of Paris
are descriptive rather than critical. The
complexity and populousness of the book have
amazed, and perhaps somewhat paralysed, the
critical mind. Apartfrom this, there is no doubt
that, as the Daili/ Chronicle says, the interest
of the book is psychological rather than
literary; and that "it is impossible . . . for
any book written by M. Zola to be received
at this moment solely upon its literary
merits and demerits. Inevitably, it is an
incident in a dramatic history, and an item
in the controversy between the sturdy
novelist and the corruption he has attacked."
Paris, says the Athencsum, " can hardly be
praised from the standpoint of a work of
art ; it is far more a disguised pamphlet or
sermon." The Westminster Oazette ranks
Paris below Lourdes and Rome : "There was,
in spite of obvious faults, a human interest

which redeemed those books, and made
them something more than tracts for the
times, or pictures of the nineteenth century
in the lurid medium of M. Zola's imagina-
tion. But Pa/ris is a laborious effort to cover
the ground in a manner which cannot be
artistic as a whole, and which in detail is,
for the most part, highly disagreeable."
On this phase of the book the critic we are
quoting writes :

" In order that the book may be complete,
every class in Paris must make its appearance,
every phase of high life and low life (it is as a
rule low Ufe in both cases) must be described.
Our old friend from Lourdes and Rome, the
Abbe Pierre Froment, is once more the peg on
which it all has to hang. The xmfortunate man
is kept trotting from piUax to post, appearing
here, reappearing there, passing breathlessly
from the financier's drawing-room to the slums
of Montmartre, from the church to the chamber,
from the salon of the old nohlesse to the boudoir
of the demi-mondaine — ^not because there is any
cogent reason why he should visit such places,
but because the colossal enterprise of his creator,
M. Zola, requires that he should see everything
and expose everything."

The Daili/ Telegraph's critic writes in the
same vein :

" Descriptive detaUs, personal details, political
details, business details — details ad nauseam,
exuberant, bewildering, and wearisome — fur-
nish M. Zola with materials for the padding-
out of his stories to unconscionable dimensions.
Paris compels its readers to become intimately
acquainted with scores of personages — mostly
ignominious — who are to the leading characters
of the romance exactly what walking ' supers '
are to the ' principals ' of an historical play.
Nobody wants to read the elaborate biography
and psychological analysis of a journalist or
stockbroker, legislator or speculator, who just
flits across the stage as an illustration of bad
manners and worse morals, and then vanishes
permanently from the scene without having
awakened the least desire in any of the audience
to learn what ultimately becomes of him. Such
people crowd M. Zola's tiu-gid pages, and are
altogether unworthy of serious attention."

The Times' and Chronicle's critics fasten
upon M. Zola's social philosophy, his
estimate of the present condition of Paris
and his prescience — if it be prescience — of
its future destiny. "The novel," says the
Times, "is a scathing satire professedly
founded on facts, many of which are rn-
deniable."

Says the Daily Chronicle :

"With all his faith in France and all his
zeal for her future glory, this volmne is a more
daring and a more concentrated indictment of
modem society as it is seen in France than the
most scathing of the earUer books. La Terre
was a marvellous epic of rural brutality.
Oerminal ^was a hideous exposure of the in-
dustrial world, as V Argent was of the swindling
which parades as high finance. Other evils of
Parisian fife were pictured with equal power,
and, although the methods were not always
beautiful, the manifest sincerity of the whole
is now acknowledged by all who understand.
But in Paris we have a kind of concentration."

The Times, commenting on the tone of
the book, says :

"The best excuse for his final lapse into
despairing pessimism is the rottenness and cor-
ruption he sees all around him. Pourriture is,
we presume, the word in the original French,

298

THE ACADEMY.

[March 12, 189i

and there is no exact synonym in our language.
Pourriture is never partial; it pervades and
taints everything like blood poisoning."

Yet both these critics give prominence to
M. Zola's curious optimism. M. Zola, says
the Times,

"is almost as rhapsodical as Hugo as to the
glorious destinies of the centre of civilisation.
Looking out from the heights of Montmartre,
as he has often done, at the last he sees Paris
no longer in the blackness of shadow, but
illuminated in the bright radiance of a sinking
sun. He sees the symbolical promise of a
glorious harvest. Unfortunately, patriots must
possess their souls in patience. It is but cold
comfort to know that reason in the end must
prevail over superstition, and that a reUgion
grafted upon science wiU come to the birth by
the sure but slow processes of evolution."

And the Daily Telegraph says that M.
Zola's forecast of a new religion is the
most hopeful and attractive feature of Paris.
It quotes the following passage :

" ' "Who can say,' he writes, ' that science wiU
not some day quench the thirst for what lies
before us ? A religion grafted on science is the
indicated, certain, inevitable finish of man's
long march towards knowledge. He will come
to it at last as to a natural haven, as to peace in
the midst of certainty, after passing every form
of ignorance and terror on his road. Is there
not already some indication of such a religion ?
If precursors, scientists, and philosophers —
Darwin, Fourier, and others — have sown the
seed of to-morrow' sreUgion by casting the good
word to the passing breeze, how many centuries
will be required to raise the crop ? People
always forget that before Catholicism grew up
and reigned in the sunlight, it spent four
centuries in germinating and sprouting from
the soU. Grant some centuries to this religion
of science, of whose sprouting there are signs
upon all sides, and by and bye the admirable
ideas of some Fourier will be seen expanding
and forming a new Gospel, with desire serving
as the lever to raise the world, work accepted
by one and all, honoured and regulated as the
very mechanism of natural and social life, and
the passions of man excited, contented, and
utilised for human happiness ! ' "

"This," says the critic, "maybe a vision-
ary's utterance, but it is certainly an eloquent
and impressive one."

The Athenaum says that M. Zola's " apos-
trophes to Paris — the Paris of the future,
which is still to be the centre of light for the
universe," are " eloquent," and are the best
parts of the novel.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, March 10.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

The Spring of the Day. By the Eev. Hugh
Macmillan, D.D. Isbister & Co., Ltd. 5s.

The Holy Bible. Vol. VI. Ezekiel to
Malachi. Edited by J. W. Mackail.
Macmillan & Co. os.

Eras of the Christian Church: the Age
OF Charlemagne. By Charles L. Wells,
Ph.D. T. & T. Clark. 6s.

The Burdens of Life, and Other Sermons.
By Alfred Rowland. Horace Marshall &
Son. 38. 6d.

HISTOBT and BIOGRAPHY.

Mr. Gregory's Letter Box, 1813—1830.
Edited by Lady Gregory. Smith, Elder &
Co. 12s. 6d.

Egypt in the Nineteenth Century; or,
Mehemet Ali and His Successors until
THE British Occupation in 1882. By
D. A. Cameron. Smith, Elder & Co. 6s,

Recollections of Thirty-Nine Years in
THE Army. By Sir Charles Alexander
Gordon, K.C.B. Swan Somienschein & Co.

The Royal Household. By W. A. Lindsay,
Q.C. Kegan Paul. 23s.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRES.

Welsh Ballads, and Other Poems. By
Ernest Rhys. David Nutt. 3s. 6d.

A Ballad of Charity, and Other Poems.

By Gerald Wallace. David Douglas.
Cameos, and Other Poems. By Florence G.

Attenborough. W. Reeves.

Reason and Faith : a Reverie. Macmillan
& Co. 38. 6d.

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

Cinq Mois au Pays des Somalis. Par Prince
Nicolas D. Ghika. Georg & Co. (Geneve).

Brown Men and Women; or, the South
Sea Islands in 1895 and 1896. By
Edward Reeves. Swan Sonnenschein &
Co. 10s. 6d.

A Modern Pilgrim in Jerusalem. By John
Booker, M.A. S.P.C.K.

Three Years in Savage Africa. By Lionel
Decle. With an Introduction by H. M.
Stanley, M.P. Methuen & Co. 2l8.

Campaigning on the Upper Nile and Niger.
By Seymour Vandeleur, D.S.O. With an
Introduction by Sir George T. Goldie.
Methuen & Co. 10s. 6d.

Norton - SUB - Hamdon. By Charles Task.
Bamicott & Pearce (Taunton).

Bell's Cathedral Series : Peterborough,
the Cathedral and See. By the Rev.
W. D. Sweeting, M.A. Norwich, the
Cathedral and See. By C. H. B.
Quennell. George Bell & Sons. Is. 6d.
each.

SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY.

The Origin and Nature of Man. By S. B. G.
M'KiNNEY. Hutchinson & Co.

A Study of Ethical Principles. By James
Seth, M.A. Wm. Blackwood & Sons.
7s. 6d.

EDUCATIONAL.

Tourist's Vade Mecum of French Col-
loquial. Sir Isaac Pitman & Sons. Is.

Great Educators Series: Horace Mann
and the Common School Revival in
THE United States. By B. A. Hinsdale,
Ph.D. Wm. Heinemann.

The University Tutorial Series : Livy,
Book IX. W. B. CUve. 3s. 6d.

MISCELLANEOUS.

A Roll of the Graduates of the University
of Glasgow : from SIst December, 1727,
TO 3l8T December, 1897. Compiled by
W. Innes Addison. James MaoLehose &
Sons.

The Grenada Handbook, Directory, and
Almanac: 1898. Compiled by Edward
Drayton. Sampson Low.

With Bat and Ball. By George GifiFen.
Ward, Lock & Co.

A Bibuography of Skating. By Fred '.
Foster. B. W. Warhurst. os.

The Care of the Sick at Home and in e
Hospital: a Handbook for Famiis
AND Nurses. By Dr. Th. BilJr ,,
Translated by J. Bcntall Edeau. Fh
edition. Sampson Low. 23. (id.

The Works of George Berkeley, D.,
Bishop of Cloyne. Edited by Gei«
Sampson. Vol. II. Gflorge Bell & S i,

Sentimental Education: a Youno Ms
History. Translated from the Frenci ,f
Gustave Flaubert, by D. F. Hanuigan 'j
vols. H. S. Nichols, Ltd.

Queen's College, Gal way: Calendar j
1897-8. Dublin University Press.

The Suffolk Sporting Series : Cycx
By H. Graves, G. Lacy Hillier, and Su
Countess of Malmesbury. Lawrencf .
Bullen. 6d.

A Manual of Agricultural Botany, F j
the German by Dr. A. B. Frank. Tn -
lated by John W. Paterson. Wm. Bli -
wood & Sons, 38. Od.

NOTES ON NEW EDITIONS, ETC

Mr. James Seth's Studi/ of Etliical Prinei »
( Wm. Blackwood & Sons) has come to u i
its third edition, which contains new chap i
on "The Method of Ethics" and "Md
Progress."

Mr. D. F. Hannigan has transkl
Flaubert's L^ Education Sentimentale, wl .
he not unjustly describes as "an ency-
pasdie novel," and "a vast treasure-hou* (
pitiless observation." Mr. Hannigan cla i
that his translation follows the text ininut .
and that the author's characteristics are ]
served. Mr. H. S. Nichols publishes.

In the " Great Educators " (Wm. He •
mann) series we have a new volume devc 1
to Horace Mann and The Common Sc I
Revival in the United States. This ha« b i
prepared by Mr. B. A. Hinsdale, Pli ,
whose "single purpose" has been "tot
before the reader Horace Mann as an edi •
tor in his historical position and relationt

From Messrs. MacmiUan & Co. comes ai i
edition of Mr. T. Eice Holmes's Hiiton <
the Indian Mutiny. ' ' Among the m '
important alterations and additions are tl )
wMch relate to the Afghan War, the ba ^
of Sacheta and the events which led up t( ,
the battle of Chinhat, the defence of '
Lucknow Residency, Havelock's campai,
Lord Canning's Oudli proclamation, and '
vexed question of Sir Colin Campbc
responsibility for the protraction of the v ■
On the whole, the text is enlarged by at S
twenty pages ; and several new append *
have also been written."

Cycling (Laurence & Bullen) is reprit
from The Encyclopmdia of Sport, with ai •
tions and alterations, and is the joint w •
of Mr. H. Graves, who deals with ■
general and mechanical branches oi '
subject; Mr. George Lacy HiUier, V
treats of cycle racing ; and Susan, Coun •
of Salisbury, who writes on cycling '
women. Their articles make a slim b •
illustrated with diagrams.

March 12, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

999

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[Mabch 12. 1898.

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EGYPT.
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SPAIN.

DON EMILIO CASTELAR.

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GERMANY.

THE GERMAN EMPEROR WILLIAM II. By

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4o. With 2 Portraits, crown 8vo, 3s. 8d.

UNITED STATES.

A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY

FROM 1776 TO 1893. By EDGAR STANTON MACLAY, A.M. With Techmca
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PRESIDENT CLEVELAND.

WHITTLE, With 2 Portraits, crown Svo, 3s. Od.

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GREAT BRITAIN.
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CHINA.
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London: BLISS, SANDS & CO., 12, Burleigh Street, Strand, W.C.

Printed by ALEXANDBE & SHEPHEARD, Lonsdale Printin* Works. Chancery Lane; Published for the Proprietor by PETER GEORGE ANDREWS, 43, Chanceiy Laae, W.C

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THE ACADEMY.

301

•ROM WALTER SCOTT'S LIST.

N'ow roadv, crown 870, half-antiquo, paper boards, 3s. fid,

;HE theatrical world of 1897.

By WILLIA-W AROHEEl. With an Introduction by
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Second Edition. Extra fcap. Svo, stiff covers, Is.

ELEMENTARY POLITICAL ECONOMY.

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2 vols. 12«.

A SELECTION of PASSAGES from

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HINTS for ETON MASTERS, taken

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London: HENRY FROWDE, Amfn Cobnie.

302

THE ACADEMY.

[March 19, 1898.

TO BE PUBLISHED ON TUESDAY NEXT.
Demy Sto, clot price 12s. 6d.

ARISTOCRACY nd EVOLUTION

A Study of the Rigl the Origin, and

the Social Functions of the

Wealthier Classes.

Author

H. MALLOCK,

" Labour and the Popular Welfare,"
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See.

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WM. BLACKWOOD & SONS' LIST.

WHO'S WHO, 1898. An Annual Bio-

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SIDE-LIGHTS_jON SIBEB I A.

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THE STORY of GLADSTONE'S LIFE.

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JUST PUBLISHED.
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Mabch 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

303

CONTENTS.

Reviews :

Chaucer at Popular Prices

The Sundeling Flood

The Towneley Plays

Prof. Hommel and the Higher Critics

Slender History

The Border

On Democracy

Early Piintera

^BIBFEB MenTIOX

The Newest Fiction

Re\iews

PRIXG AsxOfNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT

•foTKS AND News

To England: a Poem

(TEvenson's Fables

L Plea for P(;uer English

Sola's "Paris" ...

'us Week

)»AMA

'ORRESPONDENOE

looK Bevibws Reviewed

Page

.. 303

.. SM

.. 305

.. 306

.. 307

.. 308

.. 309

,. 310
1—324

,. 326

. 328

. 828

. 329

. 330

. 3.'12

. 832

. 3;«

. 331

REVIEWS.

CHAUCEE AT POPULAR PRICES.

Vbrh of Geoffrey Chaucer (Globe Edition)-
Edited by A. W. Pollard, H. F. Heath,
M. H. Liddell, and W. S. McCormick.
(Macmillan & Co.)

[N the concise and scholarly preface to this
volume, Mr. Pollard traces the vicissi-
ides through which it has gone. Mooted so
)ng ago as 1 864, editor after editor has failed
cope with its exacting demands upon his
me, until by the joint labours of four
iholars it has at length become an
!complished fact. Most admirable and
holarly, it will enhance the credit which
le Globe Library has already acquired for
s texts. Only upon some minor points of
liting do we differ from the authors. In
irticular, we do not hold with their practice
: marking the prolongation of the final e
a dot over the letter. It is true that
iiaucer has no set rule in this, beyond
etrical convenience. But for this very
ason more than one reading is possible
various lines ; and we woiild have pre-
rred that each reader should have been
Be to choose for himself.
It is too much to hope that this edition
.11 make Chaucer popular. No editing,
1 cheapness of price, will effect that,
le general reader will never trouble to
; aster his archaism of language, spelling,
id metre — easy though the principles of
1 n last be to master. It is a pity ; because
poet is so framed for popularity as
(laucer. He has all the things which
te general reader likes ; he has none

< the things which the general reader
( dikes. He tells a plain tale plainly ; he

< shews imagery (which the general reader
lithes), or, if he uses it, he confines himself
t simple and explicit similes ; he busies
luself with deeds, not meditation; if he
> nts a little philosophy, he lifts it straight
ot of tlie indispensable Boethius, and when
tj) reader sees the warning name "Boece "
1^ can always skip ; he is cheerful, lucid,
a| definition and open air. It will not,
a,iil. " He may be a very good poet," says
ti I general reader, ' ' but he spoUs so badly ! ' '

So he remains for the student of poetry,
who rather prefers bad spelling. Chaucer's
foremost charm for Chaucer-lovers is, in
fact, very like the charm of his spelling.
It is his ingenuousness, his babbling felicity.
It is a charm altogether modern, because
antique — a charm lent by our age to his
youth, a charm, like the mellowed colour-
ing of a Titian, which was not there when
Chaucer wrote.

" His wonning was full faire upon an heath,
With greene trees y-shfidowed was his place,"

says the poet ; and we exclaim " Delightful !
what a haunting picture in a few simple
words ! " It is so much to us, because it
was so little to Chaucer. To his contempo-
raries it must have been an every-day state-
ment in matter-of-fact language. A child's
speech is not charming to another child.
Thus, much of Chaucer which we call
inspired felicity seems so to us, because
he has grown young by our growing old.
His contemporaries valued him for his
modernity. It is the mixture of this added
and adventitious ingenuousness with his
native shrewdness and man-of-the-wordli-
ness — which gives him so piquant a flavour
on our literary palates.

It is too late a day to criticise the genius
of Chaucer in his matured work. What
fresh can be said about those exquisite
vignettes of the Canterbury pilgrims, touched
in with such few strokes, with such taking
humour, so instantly recognisable, that they
are worth tomes of histoiy in revealing to
us what manner of men our ancestors were ?
Chaucer's finest humour is not in his broad
strokes, his laughter from the full lungs,
but in the sly touches where he has his
tongue in the cheek. The picture of the
Prioress is a masterpiece in this kind ; per-
fectly polite, yet full of subdued pleasantry.
Her dignified assumption of court airs, her
demure and mincing manners, her British-
French, her singing of divine service —

All these things are famous. Equally
famous is the mock solemnity and quiet
humour of the story regarding the cock
and the fox — the most admirable comedy
in the Tales. Very little known, how-
ever, is the early poem, " Troylus and
Cressyde.^' Yet Mr. Pollard is hardly
mistaken in calling it a masterpiece. Worked
out in the subtlest detail, it is full of touches
possessing, to a degree unique in mediteval
work, the modern quality of intimacy. The
whole of Pandarus's scenes with his niece are
informed with these touches, giving a life-
like reality to the tale. Cressyde's girlish
playfulness, and her uncle's jocoseness, are
excellently conceived :

" ' Now by your fay,
' dear,

mine uncle,' quoth she,

What manner wind guideth you hither here ?
Tell us your jolly woe and your penance !
How far forth be- ye put in loves dance ? '

' By God,' quoth he,
And she to-laughe,
brest.

I hop alway behinde ! '
as though her heart e

" Entuned in her nose full seemely," —

her dainty pitifulness for animals, are all
wrought into a delicious character, ending
with that admirable line —

" And all was conscience and tender heart."

Equally delicate is the portrait of the young
squire, with his crisped locks :

" Embroidered was he, as it were a meade
AU full of freshe flowres white and reede ;
Singinge he was, or flutinge, all the day ;
He was as fresh as is the monthe of May."

Shakespeare surely had these lines in mind
when he drew Master Fenton : " He speaks
holiday, he has eyes of youth, he smells
April and May." Of the Tales themselves,
the very finest is doubtless the " Knight's
Tale," that e^iic in little. The picture of
Emily rising on May morning —

" Up rose the Sun, and up rose Emily,"

the spirited picture of the tourney, and the
subtly pathetic death of Arcite :

" What is this world ';* What asketh man to
have ?
Now with his love, now in his colde grave,
Alone, withouten any coiupauy I "

Quoth Pandarus, ' Look alway that ye fiud
Game in mine hood ! ' "

And again she surprises him meditating :

" And up it put, and went her in to dine ;
But Pandarus, that in a study stood,
Or he was ware, she took him by the hood,
And saide, ' Ye were caught or that ye
wiste ! ' "

When he asks her a sudden question as to
whether Troylus is a good writer of love-
letters :

" Therwith all rosy-hued then wex she.
And gan to hum, and saide, ' So I trow ! ' "

In all this poem, the only thing known by
universal quotation is the lovely image of
the nightingale :

" And as the new-abashed nightingale.
That stinteth first when she beginneth sing.
When that she heareth any herde tale,
Or in the hedges any wight stirring,
And after sikker doth her voice out-ring ;
Eight so Cressyde, when her dreade stente.
Opened her hearte, and tolde all her entente."

But to quote Chaucer would be endless.
Enough that now, for three-and-six, any
man can possess the most admirable
raconteur, save Homer, in the poetry of
any language ; as full of felicitous touches
of nature as the old Greek himself, and
with a power of humour and satire which
no Greek possessed ; while in delineation
of character he probably stands next to
Shakespeare.

Now, let us take our courage in our two
hands, and — having not the fear of " estab-
lished repute " and other such bugbears
before our eyes — say that Chaucer is mortal
and has faults. It is a limitation rather than
a fault that (as has already been noted) he has
little or no power of imagery. In this respect
he resembles the medicoval poets in general,
and the bulk of the classic poets, most of
whom do not attempt the opulent imagery,
bold or subtle or both, which is so striking a
feature in the style of sixteenth, seventeenth,
and nineteenth century poetry. There are
exceptions, headed by Dante among
mediasval, and Aristophanes (we think)

^^1

304

THE ACADEMY.

[MAncn 19, 1898.

among classic poets. But in the main)
Chaucer merely shares this limitation with
his brethren. His actual faults might
perhaps be gathered under one fault. He
is long - winded. Shade of Mistress
Quickly ! what high-roads of narration he can
achieve ! In this again he is the child of
his time. The medisoval raconteurs minded
too well that art is long, and forgot most
villainously that life is short. If Chaucer
followed them in their sin, he gave us much
better recompense. He is garrulous as a
bird, and out of that come both his merits
and defects; out of that comes his bird-
like freshness, and comes, too, his bird-like
loquacity. Who has not sometimes wished
that he might shut off a too voluble canary
as he might a musical-box? From this
habit spring torturing prolixity, and detailed
felicity. Take ' ' Troylus and Cressyde." His
garrulity is the cause of unnumbered stanzas
in which the stream of the story crawls
sluggishly on, expanded amidst dreary flats
of verbiage, or dammed by long mono-
logues barren of beauty and interest. But
this leisurely deliberation also results in
those delightful minute touches which take
us by an intimate surprise with their life
and character ; Cressyde taking Pandarus
by the hood with girlish playfulness, the
chatter of the ladies who pay her their visit
of condolence on her departure from Troy,
and many another detail which a more
concise chronicler woidd have missed.

It is, perhaps, part of this defect that,
particularly in his earlier work, he is apt
to be clumsy in construction, inartificially
artificial. In " The Death of Blanche the
Duchess " he must drag in an elaborate
machinery of dream, with a long descrip-
tion of a visionary hunt, &c., merely in
order to exhibit John of Gaunt bewailing
the death of his wife. And, redundancy
upon redundancy, even this prolix dream has
to be prefaced by a prolix relation of the
legend of " Halcyone," merely because he is
supposed to be reading this legend before
he goes to sleep, and it concerns a marital
bereavement.

In the Canterbury Tales all this is much
amended. The construction is happy; the
introduction concise and unsuperfluous ;
he employs his detail with selection and
compression ; and the same may be said of
the best among the "Tales." But even here
there are tales and parts of tales in which
mediseval loquacity breaks out irrepressible
and intolerable. The "Monk's Tale," the
Parson's prosy sermon, and the still
drearier " Tale of Meliboous," are the worst
examples. Even the "Story of Grisildis"
would have borne compression. One con-
sequence of modisoval garrulity haunted
Chaucer to tlie last — the propensity to leave
his poems unfinished. The Canterbury Tales
is a fragment. Just so it took two poets to
complete the Roman de la Rose. Just so
Spenser left the Faerie Queene unfinished ;
and so, usually, does the reader. For
Spenser imitated Chaucer's diffuseness, as
well as his language.

Such, then, is Geoffrey Chaucer ; a poet
neither sublime nor faultless, but assuredly
a great poet. Of all our great poets he is
the most objective, and therefore best
fitted for the average Englishman. Far

more than Shakespeare, he is the English-
man's poet. Half of Shakespeare is a
sealed book to the average reader, whereas
the whole of Chaucer is well within his
grasp. The spirit of the plain, common-
sense Anglo-Saxon in Chaucer's person
takes its place in poetry. Humorously
observant, clear and strong in language,
full of zest in life and all the external
activities of men, he might be called a
Shakespeare with the spiritual side omitted.
Whatever men do he can delineate with
moiring fidelity ; he has less power over
what they feel. Laughter is his, and a
certain sweet and primal pathos ; but, as
Mr. Pollard well observes, he is not a poet
of love. And this although he is constantly
writing of love, following the poetic con-
ventions of his time. The passion in
"Troylus and Cressyde " is little beyond the
naked sexual instinct. Though Dante and
Petrarch had shown him the way, English
poetry had to await the sixteenth century
and Spenser before that lofty movement
began which has issued in the love-poetry
of Shelley, Tennyson, Rossetti, and writers
yet later. Let us be satisfied with the
Chaucer we have, with his robustness, his
movement, his character, his pathos, his
verve, his sly humour, his felicitous naivete,
his cheery sanity ; the finest story-teUer in
modem Europe, the poet of the typical
Englishman — whom (by a most English
irony of fate) the typical Englishman does
not read. Nor ever will ; for if he could take
the trouble to master Chaucer's language
he would not be the typical Englishman.

THE SUNDERING FLOOD.

TJie Sundering Flood. By William Morris.
(Longmans.)

When William Morris wrote this story he
seems to have had in his mind the England
of Arthur and Lancelot — a dim, half-known
country with here and there a walled town
or a knight's castle, and the ground still un-
cultivated, the woods masterless ' ' and abound-
ing in antres vast" and goblin - haunted
hollows. He offers a curiously romantic
map of this fanciful territory as it might
have been conceived by the monk dwelling
in the House of the Black Canons at
Abingdon "who gathered this tale." It is
the picture of such a vision as could well
be entertained by a man of the experience
of William Morris, who might easily dream
his favourite Cotswolds into " the Great
Mountains " of the story, and add thereto
torrents and steadings, and eke it out from
that other chamber of remembrance where
lay his early days in Essex and Epping
Forest, and his knowledge of the broad
lower Thames. The family likeness in his
ideal landscapes excuses, if it does not
justify, this theory of their origin.

Most charitable woidd it be, also, to
assume that he had dreamed his local
colour, for the circumstances are jumbled
together from many centuries. In the
country are abbeys, grey village churches,
and friars, and as the last did not arrive

in England till the reign of Henry III., they
seem to indicate the date very exactly. But I
instead of being under a Norman king and a
feudal system, the country is broken up into
a number of independent communities very
much as if Ithaca had intruded itself into
medieaval England. Here are dales governed
by their motes, towns which seem to be
republics, one district at least ruled by a
baron, and that Game Laws or Foresters'
Rights exist there is no word to signify. On
the whole, therefore, it wLU be sufficient to
warn off those who seek for historical '
accuracy in their novels. We may fairly
assume that as Mr. Morris deliberately
jumbled his knowledge of English land-
scape into this wild territory of dream, so
also of set purpose he confounded epochs
and times, and out of his knowledge
constructed this ideal period wherein he sets
succeeding systems of Government side by
side. Though generally treating of the
prehistoric, or at any rate vague and
traditionary time of the Round Table, he
adds institutions as late as the fourteenth
century. To do anything else than assume
the confusion to be planned would be to
accuse him of the grossest carelessness —
the fault unpardonable in an artist.

Next we come to the manner of speech
adopted by this Abingdon clerk, who must
have lived very late indeed, inasmuch as
though a writer may confuse the past, he
cannot mingle it with the future. He
writes a proseclosely akin to that of Chaucei
in his " Tale of Melibceus," except that
Chaucer is less archaic and puzzling than
his imitator. But, in sooth, William Morrif
was neither kith nor kin of Chaucer. The
early poet's strength lies in the sane and cleai
representation of what he saw with his own
eyes and believed in his own heart. Oui
clerk of Abingdon, supposed to represen)
his time, runs over with superstition:
dwarfs, landwights, sorcerer^ absolutel)
throng his pages. What a very slight par
witchcraft plays with the Canterbury Pil
g^ms! As little almost as it does it
the Decameron. Well, Chaucer in verse
Bocaccio in jjrose, were in their day masten
of fiction. But all the magic they deal in ii
the sorcery by which genius sets before ui
characters more living than life itself, com
pressing as they do the essence of man;
into one. Knowledge of life, that is thi.
artist's true material, and all else bu
wrappage and framework. But before deal
ing with that prime essential of art, a won
has to be said about another minor point
In this volume, as in its predecessors, th.
prose narrative is broken and relieved b;
verse, and here again Mr. Morris has chosei
to give only a rough and distant imitatioi
of his original, for his bard deigns not t
alliterate, as his contemporaries did. It i
not without interest to compare the effusion
of this Anglo-Saxon Scald with such ai
admirable version as, for instance, the lat
Laureate's " Battle of Brunanburgh." AV
select what in our estimation seems to o
the best stanza in the book, and is also com
plete in itself as a description of Sprmg :

" Now the grass groweth free
And the lily's on lea,
And the April-tide green
Is full goodly beseen ;

March 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEJiIY.

305

And far behind

Lies the Winter blind,

And the Lord of the Gale

I» ehadowy pale ;

And thou linden be-blossomed with bed

of the worm
Cometh forth from the dark house as

Spring from the storm."

It is pretty, but much too smooth and
Morrisian. Compare it with a verse of
Brunanburgh :

" Then with their nail'd prows
Parted the Norsemen, a
Blood-reddened relic of
■ Javelins over

The jarring breaker, the deep-sea billow
Shaping their way toward Dyflen again.
Shamed in their souls."

There is a something of languor in the
poetry of the Sutukring Flood, and no
verse that will compare with that fine couplet
in its predecessor :

' Bitter winter, burning summer, never more
shall waste and wear,
Blossom of the rose undying makes undying
springtide there."

The thought is one of those felicities that
ontinue to haunt the mind long after they
have found expression, and it echoes in
what is perhaps the most exquisite prose
passage in the volume :

" She would, as it were, tell stories of how it
vould betide that at last they should meet —
oth grown old— and kiss once, and so walk
land in hand into the Paradise of the Blessed,
here to grow young again amidst the undying
ipring in the land where uneasiness is come to
lought ; and then would she sit and weep as
E there were no ending to the well of her
ears."

'here are in the Water of the Wondrous Isles
lany such passages, where the poet's broad
nd tender humanity, his deep sympathy with
le low music of parting and valediction,
f wistful dreams and hopes, flash out in
obly simple and pathetic words, and there
re also rugged and repugnant inversions
ad obscurities couched in language to be
bhorred. Here he neither rises so high
ir sinks so low ; he is nothing worse than
iimdrum at his dullest, and at his best
lems dwelling again on some eloquent
issage of the earlier book. If the Sunder-
\g Flood had been written before the other,
jir impression would have been that the
jeas were dawning upon him, but had not
jit ripened into full and adequate expres-
pn. At the same time this is the more
jtistic book of the two, in so far as it
^ows greater evidence of plan and selec-
\m. But it is not inspired either as to its
^cidents or the language in which they are
lid.

The real gift of Mr. Morris as a romancer
y in his ability to picture some of the
ff eotost and most engaging figures to be
f-ind in fiction. But he saw them only with
te sure, but momentary, glimpse of a poet.
pe may fancy him to have beheld some fair
dtswold lass and lad and to have transported
tpm in his fancy back to the Dark Ages, to
i\vo called one Elfhild and one Osbeme, and
tbn, from his reading, to have imagined
aVentures appropriate to their day. But
t^ worst of it is that the lines are so well-

travelled. Like " Eoland brave and Olivier,
and every paladin and peer," Osbeme must
obtain his enchanted sword and, like Excali-
bar and Durindante, it is delivered by the
hands of a supernatural visitant. It is hight
"Board-cleaver," and the giver is Steel-
head, one who might be mate to Birdalone's
friend the "Wood-wife. He also bestows a
bow and magical arrows, and is the good
fairy of the tale. To Elfhild a dwarf pre-
sents a pipe of sorcery, whose virtue may
be apprehended from the pretty extract we
make:

" And she drew forth a pipe from her bosom
and fell to playing it, and a ravishing sweet
melody came thence, and so merry that the lad
himself began to shift his feet as one moving to
measure, and straightway he heard a sound of
bleating, and sheep came running towards the
maiden from all about. Then she arose and ran
to them, lest they should shove each other into
the water : and she danced before them, lifting
up her scanty blue skirt, and twinkling her bare
feet and legs, while her hair danced about her :
and the sheep they, too, capered and danced
about as if she had bidden them, and the boy
looked on and laughed without stint, and he
deemed it the best of games to behold."

The story of the love of these two form
the artless plot. If worked out in plain and
simple language it would have been a
pleasing essay in the genre of fairy tales for
children, even though with all his magic
and spells Mr. Morris produces no effect
comparable to that, for instance, which
results from the wandering of Sir Palomedes
and the " Questynge Beste" through the
pages of Mort d' Arthur. For anything
beyond that it is naught. The author had
a quick and sure eye for any fair vision of
men and women, but never did he master
that essential of all groat novels, the effect
produced on character by the shocks and
blows of circumstance. Barring that his
lovers add a few feet to their stature and a
few pounds to their weight, they are at the
end what they were at the beginning, as
wise and not a whit loss virtuous. And
where this is so it is obvious that the wildest
adventure has no more literary value than
an exciting paragraph in a daily paper.
Nor can we believe that it is at all true to
represent a boy of twelve as matchless alike
in courage and wisdom. Bather are folly,
and even a certain cowardice, the charac-
teristics of that period when boys are like
puppy-dogs that, though destined to be
staunch and true as steel, will in their
callow days fly from a kitten or a rat. But
if the author's interest had lain in the
growth and development of mental qualities,
the Cotswold Hills of the nineteenth century
would have afforded a better stage than the
dim and little understood time when chivalry
was dawning. For you do not make
literature great by blazoning it with the
picturesque elements of history. Gil Bias
of Santillane, sallying forth on his old mule,
his head crammed with folly and nonsense,
is as enduring, yes, and as interesting a
fig^e as the bravest and most renowned
knight of Christendie.

THE TOWNELEY PLATS.
The Towneley Plays. Ee-edited by George
England. With Side-notes and Intro-
duction by Alfred W. Pollard, M.A.
(Early English Text Society.)

Some sixty years ago the Towneley Plays,
raciest of medieoval dramatic cycles, were
first printed from the unique MS. by the
Surtees Society. That edition is hardly up
to the level of modem requirements, and
has, moreover, become rare, and the
Early English Text Society very wisely
decided to reprint the plays from a new
and careful transcript by Mr. George
England.

Mr. Pollard, of the British Museum,
contributes a preface, in which he
recapitulates what the Surtees editor
had to say about their nature and
origin, and supplements that by some
new facts and speculations to which re-
cent investigations have opened the way.
On the vexed question whether the plays
were originally performed by the trade gilds
of Wakefield in the streets of that city, or
by the Augustinian canons of Woodkirk at
their fair, Mr. Pollard has nothing material
to adduce. The doubt remains where it
But the publication, in 1885, of the

York plays has revealed the curious fact that
five of these have a common origin with
five of the Towneley cycle; and starting from
this basis, Mr. Pollard has been able to
push a good deal further the theory of his
predecessor, that this latter cycle must be
regarded as a composite one, partly original
and partly borrowed.

An analysis of the York parallels,
and of the metrical and other charac-
teristics of the Towneley Plays them-
selves, leads Mr. Pollard to distinguish
at least three hands. The nucleus of the
cycle, he thinks, consists of a group of
plays of a simple religious didactic type,
very similar in tone to the Chester Plays.
Upon these have been engrafted somewhat
bungled versions of five or more plays in-
troduced from the neighbouring city of
York. And, finally, the work has been
completed, say about 1410, by " a
writer of genuine dramatic power, whose
humour was unchecked by any respect
for conventionality."

It is in the contributions of this
third hand, capable at once of vigorous
force and of exquisite tenderness, that
the dramatic value of the Towneley
Plays mainly consists. As Mr. Pollard
says, " his additions entitle it to be
ranked among the great works of our
earlier literature." We have little doubt
that Mr. Pollard's analysis of the cj'cle is on
the right lines; but how would he explain
the existence side by side of two alternative
versions of the Nativity, or Shepherds' play ?
One cannot have been written to supersede
the other, for Mr. Pollard assigns them both
to the third and latest writer. Yet surely
some reason is required for the doublet, t»
which there is not, so far as we know, a
parallel elsewhere.

We should be glad to think that this new
edition might win for the Towneley Plays
readers outside the charmed circle of
students of Early English. They deserve

306

THE ACADEMY.

[Makch 19, 1898.

it for the freshness of their pathos and of
their humour, and for the real and some-
what unexpected mastery of dramatic art
which the best of them display. Two
stanzas alone we can find space to quote.
The first is singled out by Mr. PoUard as
representative of his earliest and most
devotional author :

" Whan I all thus had wed hir thare,
We and my madyns home can fare,

That kyngys daughters were ;
All wroght thay sylk to find them on,
Marie wroght purpyll, the oder none

Bot othere colers sere."

And the other is from the third hand, the
genius :

PRiMrs Pastob.

" Hayll, comly and clene ! hayll, yong child !
HayU, maker, as I meyne, of a madyn so

mylde !
Thou has waryd, I weyne, the warld so wylde ;
The fals gyler of teyn, now goys he begylde.

Lo, he merys ;
Lo, he laghys, my swetyng,
A welfare metyng,
I haue holden my hetyng ;

Haue a bob of cherys."

We observe with gratitude that the Early
English Text Society have replaced their
familiar lilac wrapper in this issue by a
workmanlike cover of brown cloth.

PROF. HOMMEL AND THE HIGHER
CRITICS.

Th« Ancient Hebrew Tradition. By Dr. Fritz
Hommel. (S.P.C.K.)

So far back as 1889, Prof. Welhausen, in
search of facts to support his theory that
much of the Book of Genesis was written
after the Captivity, happened to fall foul of
the fourteenth chapter. He said — following
therein Dr. Ncildeke— that it was impossible
that four kings from the Persian Gulf should
have invaded the Sinaitic peninsula as there
recorded, or should have taken prisoners
who were rescued by Abraham. He or
some of his followers also suggested that
the names of the persons and places men-
tioned in the chapter in question were made
up for the occasion, the name of Jerusalem,
in particular, not having been given to
Melchizedek's city till long afterwards.
But a good deal of water has flowed under
the bridges since then. The cuneiform
texts from Babylonia lately deciphered by
Mr. Pinches exhibit Chedorlaomer of Elam
as a very real monarch indeed, and as a
contemporary of Khammurabi, King of
Babylon, who seems to be the Amraphel
of the Bible ; while the Tel-el-Amarna
tablets show that Jerusalem was called
Uru-salim— which is evidently the same
name— in 1400 B.C. This, while it does not
exactly (to use the time-honoured phrase)
" prove the Bible to be true," shows, at any
rate, that the Biblical narrative involves no
impossibilities. Dr. Hommel accordingly
writes a book in which he belabours his
brother professor Welhausen and the Higher
Critics generally in the heavy-handed Ger-
man manner. It is translated by the

S.P.C.K., and is advertised by them as
"a triumphant refutation of Welhausen's
theories." And this is the way in which
it comes to appear in these columns.

Looking at it impartially, and with the
respect due to Dr. Hommel's undoubted
learning, we doubt that there is anything
triumphant about the book but its tone.
Dr. Hommel does good service in exposing
the absurd claim of some of his opponents
to show the exact point of each chapter and
verse where, as they assert, one contributor
to the Book of Genesis left off and another
began. But he does not disprove the teach-
ing of a whole school by showing that some
of its pretensions are exaggerated. The
Jews, too, have always shown themselves
more clever at annexing the ideas of other
people than at discovering new ones for
themselves, and if, in this case, they have
" lifted " the whole story of Chedorlaomer's
raid, and have read it as a mere episode in
the life of their national hero, Abraham,
they have only acted after their kind. When
the Alexandrian Jews wanted to tack them-
selves on to the Greek nation, and forged
histories showing their descent from the
Spartans, they did exactly the same thing.

It seems, too, that writers like Dr.
Hommel rather misunderstand the position
of the pompously named "Higher" Criti-
cism. Dr. Welhausen and his school do
not want to prove the Bible to be false,
but to ensure that its statements and history
shall be judged by the same rules as those
of any other book. And, rightly or wrongly,
their view of the matter is beginning to
prevail. Even the book before us is a
proof of it. On p. 168 the author himself
draws attention to the fact that while in
Genesis xiv. 10 the King of Sodom is said
to have been killed in the raid, yet in v. 17
he is reported to have met and conversed
with Abraham on the latter's return from
his rescue expedition. Dr. Hommel gets
over the difficulty by a reconstruction of
w. 17-21, in which he makes Melchizedek,
and not the King of Sodom, Abraham's
interlocutor. A Semitic scholar of Dr.
Hommel's attainments is most probably
right, but before the coming of the Higher
Critics would not his suggestion have been
repudiated by the champions of inspiration
as an audacious tampering with the Word
of God?

SLENDER HISTORY.

The Story of Canada (" Story of tlie Empire
Series"). By Howard Angus Kennedy.

The history of the making of Canada
seems to fall naturally into three periods.
The first is the era of the great adventurers,
Frencli and English, when isolated settle-
ments were formed and a perpetual guerilla
warfare maintained against the Hurons and
the Iroquois ; then came the period of
English conquest and English consolidation ;
and, last of all, we have the Canada of the
past seventy years, a sort of cor27us vile for
constitutional and economic experiments.
For the lover of romantic tales tlie first

portion has the major interest. Few stories
are so extraordinary as that which tells of
the earlier efforts of Do la Roche, of Chauvin
and De Monts and the great Champlain.
Henry IV. was the prime instigator of
the scheme, thougli his minister Sully did
his best to dissimde him, and in his letter
of 1608 to the President Jeannin calls the
whole system " contrary to the genius of
the nation." Perhaps he was right. " Con-
trary to the national genius." Has the
history of French colonisation been such as
to disprove the phrase ? But, at any rate,
the movement has given a roll of great
names to histoi'y. The story of the Jesuit
mission in the wilds is a marvellous record
of the heroic. " The ink seems to turn
red," says Mr. Kennedy, with pardonable
exuberance, " as we read the story of their
fate." Brobeuf, Jogues, Maisonneuve,
DoUard — it is hard to pick and choose
among them ; but if we have a favourite
it is the Sieur de la Salle, who formed
the bold scheme of finding a western
route across the continent to China. He
had to strive with ajiathy at home and
discontent among bis followers ; he was
murdered in the end hj mutineers while in
the act of leading a forlorn liope from the
GuU of Mexico northward ; but he had
shown the way for others, and laid the
foundation of the future settlement of New
Orleans.

The disastrously patriarchal government
in Paris soon brought about the ruin of
French colonial power, and we come to •
the wars of Wolfe and Montcalm and
the rise of English supremacy. Among
the more interesting features of the
period are the little settlements by broken
Highland clans who sought to estabhsli
new Breadalbanes and Lochabers in the
West. The feuds between the Hudson
Bay and the Nortli - West companies in
one part, and distracting political, racial,
and economic difiiculties in the other,
disturb the history of the colony almost
down to our own day. It seems a pity that
more sjjaco is not devoted to the singular
work of Lord Durham, who for all liis
unsuccess was one of the most remarkable
Englishmen who ever meddled with Canadian
affairs. The relations with the United
States, the various separatist movements,
and the vexed question of tariffs, are briefly
but clearly treated. This little book makes'
no claim to be exhaustive, and the manner
of writing is not alwaj's perfect; but it
fulfils a useful puri)ose, and its author-
to adapt his own quotation — has done
" slenderly," but not " meanly."

THE BORDER.

Border Raids and Reivers. Robert Borland.
(Eraser: Dalbeattie.)

In spite of Mr. Borland's book a scholar!}
and authoritative monograph on Eordei
history still awaits the man and the hour
It is no depreciation of Border Raids '»"■
Reivers to say this, for its author has
evidently written for the general reader
not for the historical student. To the latter.

March 19, 1898.]

THE ACAUEMY.

307

indeed, tbis volume will be of little value,
but to the former it wiU prove a quite
readable sketch of a highly interesting
speciaUte of British history. We do not
desire to take too serioiisly, much less to
handle with any approach to severity, a
work with this limited aim. Yet Mr.
Borland rather courts such treatment by the
way in wliich ho has employed his au-
tliorities. It were better frankly and con-
sistently to have omitted all indication of
the sources from which lie drew, and simply
and modestly given the story in his own
words, than to have mentioned them in a
.sparing and irregular manner here and
there. It is characteristic, too, of the
writer's casual mode of procedure, that
when he does cite chapter and verse he
neglects a primary duty in not telling us
what edition he is using; as, for instance,
in his references to his most important
authority, Nicholson's Leges Marehiarum.
If he is quoting, as lie sliould be, from the
jlater edition, that of 1747, either he has
kvittingly played with the text in a repre-
jhensible fashion, or he has been guilty of
i;areless transcription and misquotation.
Either of these sins is unpardonable in any
listorical work, even in one intended more
0 amuse than to instruct.

Again, no rule is followed in his pages

vith regard to the form in which excerpts

re presented : in some the orthography

las been modernised, in others, though

aken from the same records, the original

rchaisms are preserved. If, in a sub-

equent edition, the author elects to adhere

the latter and preferable plan, it will

e necessary (in the absence of an index)

) append a glossary of antiquated, ob-

iure, and technical terms. What can the

rdinary reader make of " splents " and

currys," of "cas8in"and "pyckery," and

ich like weirdsome wonders. Chronologi-

i.Uy, the book is a sad jumble. Those who

e not more than ordinarily familiar with

e general course of English and Scottish

story will find it difficult to grasp the

iquence of events. We have noted but

|w downright mistakes. " Hand-fasting,"

[iwever, existed long before the Scottish

[irches came into being, and, of course, was

ry far from being limited to that district ;

part of Valentia was " subdued by the

xons "; nor was the clan system " peculiar

Celtic tribes." For the rest, while Mr.

irland's style is sometimes careless, at

ler times he shows a tendency granili-

is pompare modis. " Emit a proclamation,"

" adhibit a signature," are samples of

0 solete usages which can hardly be accepted

literary English.

ON DEMOCEACY.

Rm of Democracy. By J. Holland
lose, M.A. (Blackio )

3. Rose's summary of the evolution of
democracy is a book whicli might have
considerable value, for, speaking
gaeraUy, we are all ignorant as to what
hijpeued a generation back. Unfortu-
nttily, however, liis work lacks all charm of
stje, though it is clearly written. The

book is not laborious enough to serve
for reference ; it is only a first attempt
at a task which someone else will have
to accomplish. Meanwhile, however, it
is useful, and suggests interesting ideas.
One thing well brought out (in a chap-
ter on "Phases of Political Thought")
is the influence on politics of the crown of
Darwin's work. It has done away with ab-
stract political theorising from general prin-
ciples ; the theory of Evolution "has exercised
on all thinking men, and indirectly through
them on the unthinking, a most important
influence in exposing the foUy both of im-
mobility and of sudden and reckless change
in the political world." Another conclusion of
Mr.Eose'swe should be less inclined to adopt;
he holds that extension of the franchise has
increased political instability. It is true
that the swing of the pendulum has been
excessive since the violent reaction of 1880 ;
but that does not seem to prove much.
Setting aside the Home Eule question,
which has nothing to say to democracy,
there has been no important cleavage be-
tween the two programmes, for the excellent
reason that statesmen on both sides recognise
frankly that they are servants of the demo-
cracy, not its masters, and endeavour, first
of all, to interpret its wishes, only, in the
second place, to influence those wishes and
never to impose their own will. Con-
sequently, although there is a frequent
change of ministers, there is no great
change of measures ; the people know in
a general way what they want, they merely
leave to the ministers to find out the best
way of attaining that. As the residt is
never ideal, the people give a chance to
the other set to see if they can do better ;
but upon the whole our national policy is
surprisingly stable. The single issue over
which one can trace violent fluctuations in
public opinion was the Home Rule ques-
tion, an exceedingly complex and puzzling
problem, where England had no clear view
of its own interest for a guide. Mr. Glad-
stone forced it on the coimtry in a sudden
and violent manner ; it is only now that
things have assumed their normal condition,
and that either party may be relied on to
adopt the traditional English policy of
trying whether a compromise will not work.
Disraeli's dishing of the Whigs is the most
fruitful political precedent of the half-
century ; since then no one opposes a mea-
sure without the assurance that he may
probably vote for something very like it
in a twelvemonth. This arises from no
political profligacy, but simply from the
fact that under a working democracy no
minister proposes a scheme unless it is
pretty closely in accordance with his con-
ception of the popular will.

EARLY PRINTERS.

The Printers of Basle in the Fifteenth and
Sixteenth Centuries: tJieir Biographies,
Printed Booh, and Devices. By Charles
William Heckethom. (T. Fisher Unwin.)

This work might be described rather more
as bibliographical than biographical, even
though the author does not profess to

give a complete bibliography of aU the
works printed by those Swiss printers
who flourished in the fifteenth and six-
teenth centuries. Printing was intro-
duced into Basle about 1472, that city
being one of the earliest to embrace the
new art after Adolphus the Second had
besieged Mayence in 1462 and the first
printers of that place were dispersed.
Under those circumstances the workmen con-
sidered themselves relieved from the oath of
secrecy made on entering tlie services of the
Fust and Guttenberg partnership. Ber-
toldus was one of these printers, and it was
he who established the first press in Basle.
Owing to the absence of dates and places of
origin it is difficult to identify his work, but
it seems to be clear that Bertoldus was the
pioneer of typography in Basle.

Froben was, perhaps, the most celebrated
of these printers, and he is sometimes called
the German Aldus (because he was bom in
Bavaria). Froben printed the first octavo
edition of the Bible in Latin ; this was in
1491, and in 1516 he printed the first
edition of the New Testament in Greek
that was ever published. Most of his work
was of a scholarly nature, and much was
due to his friendship with Erasmus.

Though Mr. Heckethorn's work is very
lavish in its illustrations of title-pages
colophons, and devices, it is a great pity
he did not give a few reproductions of
the various founts of types used by the
early masters of typography. They were
just as easily reproduced, and would have
given a more concise record of their work.
At the same time one coidd have compared
the italic, gothic, and roman types em-
ployed with those used in other countries,
and in many cases could have traced their
origin. For instance, Froben was the first
to adopt Aldus's italic type — which was
called Italian.

The late William Morris, though he
adopted for his Kelmscott Press a modified
form of letters based on Jensen's roman,
thought very highly of tie work done by
the Basle printers. One marvels, when
considering the crude materials employed
and the rough appliances at hand, how
such fine and lasting work was produced.
In a certain way Mr. Morris was correct
when he remarked that no good printing
was done after the sixteenth century. It
is a strong statement ; but in an artistic
sense there is some truth in it, because it
was in later times that the commercial
element entered into the prwiuction of
books, and this limited the consideration of
the artist and scholar.

Apparently this is Mr. Heckethorn's first
venture in the field of typography, and
altogether, if not complete in its biblio-
graphy, the matter he has given us is of a
useful kind, and makes, with its large number
of illustrations, an interesting volume. He
has done his work fairly and correctly as
a rule, but large allowances must be made
for a work of this kind, because of the lack
of dates and variations in spelling. There
are one or two discrepancies in his book,
for instance, in the first six pages Guttenb«g
and Guttenbitrg are both used, but the
dates, generally, may be accepted as being
correct.

308

THE ACADEMY.

[March 19, 1898.

BRIEFER MENTION.

Three Years in Savage Africa. By Lionel
Declo. (Mcthuen & Co.)

THIS is a delightM book. Mr. Decle's
journey was three years long, begin-
ning at Cape Town, and ending only at
Mombasa, near the equator. Tribe after
tribe, chief after chief, emerge, and always
— abuost always— some dialogue or adven-
ture reveals and criticises the impact of
civilisation on savagery, of big brains on
smaU. brains.

Mr. Decle tells how, when he blew
his nose in the presence of the Queen
of the Makalaka, she and her entire court
buret into roars of laughter. In this
incident, and in many like it, we find the
significance of Mr. Decle's report of savage
Africa. "We are made to realise the meeting
of white and black— the meeting which is
no longer accidental or private, but politic
and pregnant. The laughter of the Makalaka
at Mr. Decle's action would have been
amusing in the pages of Speke and Living-
stone. To-day it has an almost pathetic
interest ; the Makalaka wiU so soon cease to
find a pocket-handkerchief funny ! Day by
day, and bit by bit, savage Africa is being
accustomed to European ways. 'WTien Mr.
Decle visited Lo Bengula— whom he com-
pares to the Czar Alexander in imposing
appearance — this is what he saw :

" Crowds of natives were pouring in con-
tinuously, and as soon as they reached the
opening leading into the royal enclosure they
threw themselves flat on the ^ouud, shouting,
' Nkoai [chief], Ithlahunta [eater of people],
Lion of lions, Stabber of heavecs, Great black
calf, Thunderer '—and other terms of praise."

That is native enough ; but while his
people shouted, the stabber of the heavens
was "sitting on an old champagne box,
nervously shaking one of his legs." Where
champagne and nerves can go, what may
not f oUow ?

The Theatrical World of 1897. By WiUiam
Archer. (Walter Scott.)

With this volume Mr, Archer brings the
number of his yearly surveys of the stage
to five, and to signalise the achievement he
has added a most interesting statistical
epilogue, showing at a glance the character
and popularity of the plays which Londoners
during that period have been called upon
to see. This tells us that there have been
65 successes, 64 doubtful cases, and 116
failures (from the popular, not the artistic,
standpoint) ; that the average number of
successful plays each year is 13, against
23 failures; that the time given to plays
of home manufacture was 2,835 weeks,
against 780 weeks to plays from abroad;
also, that during these five years Mr. H. A.
Jones's ten plays have run (in London)
107 weeks; Mr. Pinero's seven plays 90
weeks ; Mr. Grundy's eight plays 69 weeks ;
Mr. E. C. Carton's five plays 63 weeks ;
Mr. L. N. Parker's six plays 58 weeks ; and
Mr. J. M. Bai-rie's three plays 53 weeks.
The bulk of the book consists of reprints of
Mr. Archer's World criticisms. A preface

by Mr. Grundy, incisively written, yields
the phrase : " The interesting, the irritating,
the amusing, the depressing, the indis-
pensable Eomeike."

Campaigning on the UiJper Nile and Niger.
By Seymour Yandeleur. (Methuen &
Co.)

Mb. Yandeleur has been concerned of late
years in the British operations on the Upper
Nile and in tho Niger districts, and he has
made a capital book out of his experiences.
So close a diary (for this is practically
a diary) of adventure and soldiering in
Africa cannot be summarised here ; and we
prefer to give an idea of the book by
quoting one of the many chance episodes
which lend colour to its pages. Here is an
incident that occurred in our author's
experience when returning to Mombasa
along the groat plain of the Nollosegeli
Eivor. A hill presented itself, and over its
brow a warlike party was seen advancing :
"Were they friends or enemies? "

" We took our rifles and waited for them to
come up. They came straight on, and as the
leaders approached they came and shook hands
with us, proving to be at the head of a Masai
war-party, composed of the same El Moran, or
warriors, who had massacred the caravan in the
Kedong Valley. It was a cmious sight to see,
and the column passed rapidly on in single
file, threading its way through the mountains.
They were divided up into detachments, wear-
ing different kinds of head-gear ; some had
great head-dresses made of monkey skins,
others of goat skins, whilst some had capes of
cstrioh feathers over their shoulders. They
carried spears and shields, most of the former
wrapped iu rags or painted red to avoid
detection. Their leaders were friendly enough,
and wanted us to go with them to raid
the Kimariongo tiibe, who live near Ingoboto,
east of Elgon, but two or three of the
Elmoian were insulting, and brandished
their spears as they went by. I counted
484 in all; and following the column, which
had several long gaps in it, were some cattle
and sheep, to provide food on their jom-ney.
On arriving at their destination, they collect
together at nightfall for the attack, and in the
early mom fall on their enemies, killing man,
woman, and child; stabbing right and left
with their long sharp spears."

Such episodes aboxmd in Mr. Vandeleur's
pages. But through aU runs the threads
of political interest and purpose. Indeed,
the last few chapters may be said to form an
informal Blue Book on the Niger question.
It need not be said that Mr. Yandeleur is
severe on French pretensions, and especially
upon their occupation of Bussa. The book
is illustrated with photographs of great
interest, and the maps are enlightening.

any other, she has caught the very temper,
the very atmosphere, of Connemara. " An
Entomological Adventure " is somewhat in'
a new vein. It tells of a child who, bitten
by the fascination of moth-collecting, escapes
from tho house by moonlight in search of a
large dawn-flying species. Having captured
her booty, she creeps weariedly into the
centre of a large haystack. Here she is
nearly suffocated, and, which is worse, her
moth is crushed in its chip-box. Another
good story — pathetic in the way that onl)
Irish stories can be — is that called " Aftci
the Famine." Among fiction and history art
wedged in two or three taking little poems,
one of which we may quote :

"A Soxo OF 'Veiled Rebellion.'

They say that grave perils surround me,

That foes arc on every hand ;
That to right, and to left, and around me,

Red murder is stalking the land.

Yel I sit, as you see,
'Neath the shade of a tree,
With my hook on my knee.

I am one of the demons accursed,

Detested, denounced from of old ;
For whose blood the whole land is athirst,
Or 80 I am credibly told.

Yet I ait, as you see,
'Neath the shade of a tree,
With my hook on my knee.

Mv safety is guarded all day
By t.talwart protectors in gi-een.

Who roam with my maids thro' the hay.
And happily rarely are seen.

While I sit, as you see,
'Neath the shade of a trie.
With my book on my knee."

If fault is to be found with T)-aits an
Confidences, it must be on the score o
a scrappiness of general efEect. The miscel
laneous character of the contents suggest
an indiscriminate hunt through drawers an
other receptacles of MSS. at the summon
of a publisher. For all that, howevei
as we said, the book is welcome.

By Emily Lawless.

Traits and Confidences.
(Methuen.)

This medley begins with short stories and
ends with some chapters of Irish history
written in the delightfully bright and fresh
manner of Miss Lawlesa's " Story of the
Nations " volume. It is welcome, like
everything which comes from the writer's
pen. Miss Lawloss's style is always
distinctive, frank, straightforward, and
picturesque, without any straining after
effect or attempt at fine writing. More than

The Diamond Fairy Book. Illustrated b
H. R. Miliar. (Hutchinson.)

These are modem imaginings, not folk-lori
although many of them, as modern imagii
ings will, have absorbed folk-lore element
Two or three of the stories are English
most are borrowed from the French c
German ; one each from the Swedish, Pei
sian and Breton. They make a varied an
entertaining volume, which wiU be a welconi
Christmas present in any wise nursen
And when the children have gone to be
and left the book about, children of hirgf
growth will probably not feel disincUned t
pick it up. You may observe a marke
difference of character between the Frenc
and German contributions. The Franc
fairy-tale, if not of Breton extraction, i
thin, of meagre fancy, and tagged with
moral. It is generally without humou:
The German stories show a rich ima^s
tion, a keen sense of artistic fitness, and a
abundant humour. Surely a curious u
version of the ordinary literary rOUi c
the two nations! Some of the Germa
work here given has a charming abando
and a reckless wealth of invention, moi
notable in Witty -splinter and The ii»

March 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

309

^alleys, where the calta improbability of
icident is delightful. Some of Mr. H. E.
Ciller's illustrations are dainty and humor-
118 ; others are lacking in inspiration and
re ineffectively reproduced. His style does
ot lend itself well to reproduction.

^.(collections of Thirty-nine Years in the Army.
By Sir Charles Alexander Gordon, K.C.B.
(Sonnonschein.)

[R Charles Gordon has seen more active

irvice than has fallen to many a surgeon-

pneral : his breast, in the portrait acting as

■ontispiece to this book, is gay with

jedals : but he does not wield a fascinating

l?n. That which has come under his eyes

his lengthy career — in India and Africa,

hina and Europe, during the Mutiny and

' 0 Siege of Paris — he can describe honestly

jiough, but without a hint of literary charm.

or has he seen always the most interest-

ig thing. One hundred and twenty

jousand words by a writer so endowed

ay become wearisome, and hence it cannot

said that the stock of military recoUec-

in is appreciably strengthened by this

ok. Considering what opportunities an

|my surgeon has of learning curious facts

<\ human nature, coming as he does in the

qaracter of benefactor so closely into

£ ation with brave men who are ofi their

ard, it is disappointing to find so few

iries of eccentricity. One, however, is

rth reproducing. A man was charged

th an assault on an officer. Subsequently

q confessed the motive :

' From the time when he first enlisted he
111 bi^en haunted by visions of a murder com-
ij.ted by himself and his ' pal ' on Wands-
wth Commou in 1H45 ; he had made every
Biieavour to get killed while charging the
S hs in battle ; ho had committed offences so
tl t he might be taken to the g^uard room, and
tluce made protended attempts to escape, in
tq hope of being cut down by the sentry ; but,
Ming in all these, he had struck the officer,
Lu.rder that for so doing he might be tried,
uqdemned, and shot."

r ; odd thing is that a man so bent upon
ii th should have shunned suicide with
91 li persistence.

W'A Bat and Ball. By George Giffen.
Ward, Lock & Co.)

Tji success of K. S. Eanjitsinhji's book on
crjket has naturally set other prominent
pVers racking their brains for theories and
reiiiiiscences. The first to arrive is the
chlnpion cricketer of Australia, the Anti-
rr^-nn " W. G.," as he has been called,

■orgo Giffen. His book is a straight-
id narrative of his career, with sketches
of imtemporaries in the field, and descrip-
fii'^ of historic matches thrown in. Mi.

has taken cricket seriously from his
-1 oat years. His first century was made in
18j;, when he was seventeen, and it gained
liiiihis promotion to the Norwood Club.

'put I was quickly to discover that there is
po ;)yal road to cricket fame. In innings after
innlgs I failed utterly and completely. My
bmcrs and sisters who, when I had notched
thejontury, had thought I was already a star
:nt,3ter, be.ame sceirtical regarding my ability,
I^wji no longer their hero, and, as duck's egg
*.l« duck's egg fell to my lot, I could not face

them with the news of my disgrace. Instead,
therefore, of going in to tea on Saturday
evenings, I would sit on the topmost rail of the
fence of the park lands, brooding over my
troubles until after dark, and then woiUd steal
on tip-toe into my room, and, supperless, stifle
my worries in sleep."

Of such valiant stuff are champions made.

Welsh Ballads. By Ernest Ehys. (D.
Nutt.)

Betwken the delicate covers of this book
are legends of Wales, paraphrases from the
Welsh, and original songs and poems em-
bodying the Welsh spirit. Mr. Ehys is not
a great poet ; he is a zealous Welshman
with a pretty knack of rhyme and a quick
eye for romance and beauty. Here is a
stanza from a luUaby conveyed or translated
from the Welsh :

" The mother yields her babe to sleep

Upon her tender breast.
And sings a lullaby, to keep

Its little heart at rest ;
O sleep in peace upon my bosom.
And sweetly may yoiu- small dreams blossom ;
And from the fears that made me weep you.
And from all pains, as soft you sleep you.
The angels lightly guard and keep you

So safe and bless'd ! "

Mr. Ehys, by beginning his dedication thus,
"Dear Princess in Wales," has succeeded
in giving at least one reader a shock.

A Handbook of Sousekeeping for Small Incomes.

By Florence Stacpoole. (Walter Scott.)
This is a well - arranged and pleasantly
written manual. Above her first chapter
Mrs. Stacpoole places Dr. Johnson's saying :
" Without economy none can be rich, and
with it few can be poor." Mrs. Stacpoole
works out a table of expenditure for the man
whose income is £200 a year. It is stern
reading ; surely Mrs. Stacpoole errs in
asking him to devote as much as £15 a year
to insurance.

THE NEWEST FICTION.

A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

American WrvES
AND Husbands. By Gertrude Athekton.

To publish three novels in a month is a
feat, but the author of Patience Sparhawk
will achieve it. His Fortunate Grace we
read at a sitting last week. The Californians
wiU be "ready shortly," and the third lies
before us. American Wives, &c., like Patience
Sparhawk, is a study of the American
child, her development into an American
woman, and her career as such. Miss
Atherton has humour, and a distinct
power of characterisation. Her American
women (she is not over charitable to them)
may not be typical, but they are amusing
anyway :

" ' Was papa perfectly perfect ? ' asks the
heroine of her dying mother.

'Perfectly.'

' I heard the butler say once that he was
as drunk as a lord.'

'Possibly, but he was perfect all the
same. He got drunk like a gentleman — a

Southern gentleman, I mean, ot course. I
always put him to bed and never alluded
to it.' "
(Service & Paton. 388 pp. 68.)

Colonel Thobndyke's

Secret.

By G. a. Henty.

With Mr. Henty the story's the thing;
he butts into it straightway and turns aside
never. Hero ho offers a variant of Wilkie
CoUins's Jioonstone. Wo have the jewels
stolen from an Indian temple, pursued
silently and unswervingly by priests, who
bring disaster on each successive possessor.
Once begun, it is not easy to withstand Mr.
Henty's story until the end is reached.
(Chatto & Windus. 400 pp. 6s.)

Meresia.

By Winifred Graham.

A story of Spaniards and English. Jose
Serano is the hero, and in the first chapter
he describes life in Madrid for the benefit
of Bertie Hej-don. " They were Eton boys
— schoolfellows — pals," says the author.
Subsequently Jose grows up, and Bertie
grows up and wears a pink carnation, and
Meresia comes upon the scene and is
extensively loved. And here is a sentence
concerning one of her lovers : "To check,
to intercept, to repress Aladros ! Why, as
soon try to kill an eagle swooping down
upon his prey, by tossing a handful of salt
in the air." (Hurst & Blackett. 337 pp. 6s.)

Wheat in the Ear.

By "Alibn.

A story of New Zealand by an admirer
of Jean Ingelow and Tennyson. A quiet,
earnest tale, depicting the rough course of
the true love of a professor and a farmer
for Joan. Joan began early to show her
individuality, for being baptized by a deaf
parson as John, and bidden manfully to
fight, she was borne from the church yelling
manfully that she wouldn't. The story ends
tragically for the professor. (Hutchinson,
376 pp. 68.)

Pasquinado. By J. 8. Fletcheb,

Here we have a novelette and four short
stories by the author of The Wonderful
Wapentake. In Pasquinado, the novelette,
Mr. Fletcher plays the sentimentalist. The
heroine is a little foreign waif nicknamed
" Poll3rvoo8afronky," and is called by it in
full every time. Subsequently her father is
found and she becomes Agneta. A Dick-
ensian story. The others are slight and
sensational. (Ward, Lock & Co. 265 pp.
38. 6d.)

My First Prisoner. By " The Governor."

The title-pago is in green ink, by way,
we suppose, of emphasising tlie story's
Irish character, and the author, whose other
name, or other pseudonym, is Bartlo Tool-
ing, calls the book a picture of Ireland and
Eome of thirty years ago, and states that
ho himself was governor of an Irish prison
and served in the Pontifical Zouaves.
Hence we have Irish life and Garibaldian
battles. And once an eagle caiTies off a
baby in a cradle, and a peasant springs four
feet into the air and breaks the eagle's back
with his shillelagh ; which is " good going."
(Aberdeen : Moran & Co. 186 pp. 3s. 6,1.)

310

THE ACADEMY.

[Mvain 19. 1S15.

The Mermaid of

iBisn-UiG. By E. W. K. Edwards.

Her name was Black Kate and slie dwelt
among the seals off the coast of the north
of Ireland. " And the thing came up halt-
way out of the water, and it had arms like
a woman, and Ufted the sale up off the
mussel-bed, and the sale fa'ned on it, and
they splashed into the water together —
such was old Doolie's " story. A wild,
uncanny Uttle book. (Edward Arnold.
248 pp. 3s. 6d.)
The Mummy's Dream. By H. B. Proctor.

The mummy was Oli-Mel. Dr. Schwartz,
an occultist, induced Dick Mortimer to join
hands with OH-Mel and to live, in dream,
the Egyptian's life over again. He is thus
able to tell the story of the Exodus from
the standpoint of an eye-witness, with many
intimate particulars about Moses (who here
figures as Mesu) not commonly known-
one of which is the filial relationship of
that patriarch to Pharaoh's daughter. A
grotesque tale, which, thanks to the
author's levity, no one can take seriously.
(Simpkin & Co. 257 pp. 2s.)

A Keputation for

A SojfG. By Matid Oxenden.

Miss Oxenden prefaces her story by a
little sermon on self-sacrifice, a virtue which,
as she points out, is not always beautiful,
and is often absurd or hysterical. This
story tells how a man made a great sacrifice
to a sick man's whim. "Perhaps," says the
author, " in my heart I also think he was a
tool ; but I honour him in that I know how,
through the years that have intervened, he
has tried in his simple, unexalted way to
live heroically in an unheroic age." (Edward
Arnold. 342 pp. 6s.)
A Soldier of Bt Joseph A.

Manhattan. Altsheler.

This story is told in the first person by an
American soldier of the old days, when the
Canadian-French made themselves trouble-
some, and when the King's troops came over
from England to the aid of his Transatlantic
subjects. The taking of Quebec by Wolfe
is a leading incident in a dashing tale of war,
love, and adventure. (Smith, Elder, & Co.
369 pp. 68.)

Three Women and

Mr. Cardweli,. By W. Pett Eidge.

Another of Mr. Pett Eidge's buoyant
little novels, with plenty of bright dialogue,
and an everyday plot that runs merrily.
Upon the cover are stamped the portraits of
Mr. Frank Cardweli and the three women
who influenced his life. Mr. F. C. had
catholic tastes. (C. A. Pearson. 250 pp.
33. 6d.)

REVIEWS.

The Child who ivill Never Grow Old. By
K. Douglas King. (John Lane.)

Never have we so cordially sympathised
with Darwin's plea for a law compelling
stories to end happily, as in reading this
book. For of the eight tales between its
covers, all, save perhaps one, end on a note
of unnecessarily poignant pathos. Miss

King is a very Herod in the way she insists
on the death of the children of her fancy.
In the first story, a litUe boy dies of a
liroken back ; in the second, two little boys
are run over by a train ; in the third, a
boy, who is older than is common with Miss
King's heroes, is killed by a drunken man ;
in the fourth, one little boy is shot with a
gun fired deliberately by another httle boy ;
m the fifth— but that is the exception; m
the sixth, a suffering baby is left to die at
the workhouse infirmary; in the seventh,
a Uttle boyfaUs over a cliff; in the eighth,
a little boy is drowned. These calamities
are in themselves sorrowful enough, but
our misery is rendered more acute by the
pains which Miss King lavishes to endear
her heroes to us. Look, for examiile, at
Tony-Baba, whose back was broken, and
whose history gives the title to the book :

" Tony-Baba drew breath, and then resumed

in his customary subdued conversational tones :

' He said to me, when I'd got over and we

was looking at each other, " My name's Johnme

jamieson — what's yours ?"'

'I said, "I'm Tony-Baba, this is my dog,
Bibi, and my beauteous cat." And he frowned,
did that Johnnie Jamieson, oh, most tre-
menjous; and he said, quick as quick, "I can
Kok you all to fits ! " Lick means beat you in
fighting or racing, papa. " I can lick you all
to fits," he said— just that. And I said, " I
can lick you." '

'" I bet you can't," he said; " I bet I can
just smash you all up." '
' And I said, " Let us try." '
A faint light sparkled in the depths of Tony-
Baba's dreamily retrospective eyes.
' Did you try ? ' I asked.
'We did try. He jumpted on me, and I
jumpted on him. Both together we jumpted,
and we got ourselves all mixed up. Then we
began to fight ; and we flghted and tugged and
jammed our ftstses in each other's eyes, and we
coiddn't smash each other nohow. We
shouldn't have never left off fighting, I believe,
and think, on'y Johnnie caught his foot in a
rabbit hole and corned toppling over, and me
on the top, 'cause all our arms and legs was
mixed up together.'

' What happened next ? '

Tony-Baba drew another long sigh of satis-
faction. ' It was all quick as quick, papa,' he
said, ' and Johnnie sort of pulled me down ; but
I remembered, just in time, that it wasn't no
game, but that wo was fighting on purpose to

Eck each other all to fits, so — I '

Tony-Baba paused arlistically.
' So you what ? '

' I flumped on him with all my weightiest
weight when he pulled me and I felled down.
I just flumped kerrash on top of him as heavy
as I could.'

' What did he do t"

" I'm awful heavy, I believe, when I fall like
that. He didn't say nothink at all.'
' What happened then ? '
' We just lay staring at each other, and his
breathing was loud as loud, only he couldn't
breathe as loud as he wished to, 'cause I was on
t ip of him. And I was awful out of breath,
too. Then he said, in a skrushed, inside-him
sort of voice, " Well, anyhow, my papa is bigger
and braver nor yours, I know." ' "

If, in these stories, Miss King had any gift
of inevitability we should not mind. But
she has none. Death is never the necessary
termination of the tale ; life would serve
just as woU. Hence our objection. And
if she displayed signs of possessing unusual
insight into child nature, or if there were

valuable results of genuine observation, we
should mind less. But again there are
none. The stories are so obviously pure
invention, and the endings are so obviously
selected because of their nearness to the
author's heart, that we have a right to
protest in a way that we should not protest
did the characters or incidents in the least
convince us of reality. Miss King can
write cleverly, and it is plain from the
extracts given above that she has humour.
We beg her to be as pleasing rather
than as harrowing, as she can.

Carpet Courtship. By Thomas Cobb. (Jolm
Lane.)

We do not remember to have seen the
name of this writer upon the title-page of a
book before ; but this little volume has
amused us so thoroughly that wo shall look
eagerly for anything he may write in the
future. The story is light ; it is built upon
the slender foundation of a burnt letter ; it
deals with the tepid passions of people who
have a position and appearances to keep up,
and dare not marry whom they please; hut
the workmanship is so skilful and delicate
that the book will be a delight to such as
think the mode of presentation at least as
important as the story itself.

Susannah Murchison sends for Everard
Rothesay at half-past ten in the evening.
She has a favour to ask of him :

" ' The fact is,' she explained, ' I— 1 had
occasion to write to your cousin this afternoon.'

' As well as to me :■■ '

'Before I wrote to you,' she answered,
' and after I had sent the letter to the post 1
changed my mind.' , ^

' Are you prone to that kind of thing r
Everard asked.

' At all events,' she insisted, ' I changed
my mind.'

'Then I suppose Frank will get a second
letter!' . .

'On the contrary,' said Susannah, sitbng
suddenly upright, ' I don't waut him to get the
first.'

' But if it has been posted '

' It will be dehvered by the first post to-
morrow morning.'

'So that it's too late to do anything, he
suggested.

' For me, yes — ^but not for you.' "

With a woman's sophistries she persuades
him that he would be doing no wrong m
intercepting and destroying the letter, and
he undertakes to do so. From this follows
a comedy of errors, a criss-cross of engage-
ments made and broken, which, however,
never drops into farce. The story is told
for the most part in dialogue, which Mr.
Cobb handles with surprising dexterity,
having a keen eye for the flippancy and the
peculiar brand of vulgarity which is the
fashion of a West-end drawing-room. Mr.
Cobb owes something undoubtedly to Mr.
Anthony Hope — the earlier and better
Anthony Hope of the Dolly Dialogues, m,
then, every writer who succeeds m repro-
ducing the conversation of the drawing-
room, with its truncated sentences, m wlucU
the point consists in a pause, has lea^* {^^^
trick from Mr. Hope. It must be said that
Mr. Cobb has learnt it well, and adds a
deftness in the weaving of a story trom
trifles which is quite his own.

SPEING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT

THE ACADEMY.

SATURDAY, MARCH 19, 1898.

GEORGE ALLEN'SNEW BOOKS. MR. HEINEMANN'S NEW BOOKS.

By JOHN RUSKIN, LL.D., D.C.L.

.ECTURES ON LANDSCAPE

1871.

given at OXFORD in JANUARY and FEBRUARY

With 211 Plat«s in Photogravure and 2 in Colour.
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jm the " Libar Studiorum," Two studies by the Author, One Reynolds, One
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The Daily Chronicle. — "Nearly all these scenes from the Ghetto lake the
form of stories, and few are examples of the imaginative short stoiy, that fine
method of art. The majority are dramatic scenes chosen from the actual life's
history of the idealists of Jewry. Thtts we have a portrait of Spinoza himself a^
he lived . . . of Heine on his mattress, of LassaUe, and of Beaconsfield."

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS.

By H. G. WELLS, Author of " The Time Machine."
The Spectator. — "As a writer of scientific romance, Mr. fVells has never been
surpassed- Even when he is most awful there is always something human about
his characters. Both Poe and Mr. PVells are followers of Swift, but Mr. lyells
keeps nearest to the human side of the author of ' Gulliver.' "

THE MINISTER OF STATE.

By J. A. STEUART, Author of "In the Day of Battle."
The World. — "JVic working of character and the power of self-making hare
rarely been so finely delineated as in this novel, which is nothing tliat Jictio*
ought not to be, while its qualities place it far above the novels we are accustomed,
to even of the higher class. It is dramatic, romantic, and realistic."

THE FOURTH NAPOLEON.

By CHARLES BENHAM.
The Saturday Review. — "A definite attitude to life, the courage of hit
opinion of human nature, and a biting humour, have enabled Mr. Benham to
write a very good novel indeed. The book is worked out thoroughly ; the people
in it are alive ; they are interetting."

THE SCOURGE-STICK

By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED.
The Daily Teleokaph. — " Undeniably powerful and interesting."

THE BROOM OF THE WAR-GOD.

By II. N. BRAILSFOED.
TiU'TH. — " All go from the first to the last page. A singularly vivid narrative
in the form of a novel of the Griixo-Turkish war; every line bears the impress of
absolute truthfulness."

BOBERT HIOHENS'S NEW BOOK.

THE LONDONERS: An Absurdity.

By KOBERT IIICHEN3. [March 29.

London : WM. HEINEMANN, 21, Bedford Street, W.C.

312

THE ACADEMY: SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT. [Mahch 19, i898.

SMITH, ELDER & CO.'S NEW BOOKS.

NEW EDITION OF W. M. THACKERAY'S WORKS.

To Ibe Issued in Thirteen Monthly Volumes, large crown 8vo,
cloth, gilt top, 63. each.

THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION

W. M. THACKERAY'S

COMPLETE WORKS.

This New and Revised Edilion comprises

ADDITIONAL MATERIAL AND HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED LETTERS,
SKETCHES, AND DRAWINGS,

Derived from the Author's Original Manuscripts and Note-Books,

AND EACH VOLUME WILL INCLUDE A MEMOIK IN THE FOEM OF

AN INTRODUCTION, BY

MRS. RICHMOND RITCHIE.

Volume I., containing "VANITY FAIR," with 20 Full-Page Illustrations,
11 Woodcuts, and Facsimile Letter, and a New Portrait,

WILL BE PUBLISHED ON APRIL 15th.

And a volume will be issaed each subsequent month, so that the entire edition

will be completed on April 15th, 1S99.

*,« A rrospectus of the Edition, with Specimen Pages, will be tent pott free,

on applieation.

NEW VOLUME OF "THE DICTiONARY OF NATIONAL BIOGRAPHY."

On March 26. 158. net, in cloth ; or in half-morocco, marbled edges, 20s, net.
Volume 61(STANH0PE-ST0V1N) of the

DICTIONARY OF NATIONAL BIOGRAPHY.

Edited by SIDNEY LEE.

Vol. I. was published on January 1, 1985, anda farther volume will be issued quBrLerly until
the completion o£ the Work, whioh will he effected within two years from the present dat«.

Note,— A full prospectus of the " Dictionary of National Biography," with Specimen Pages,
will be sent upon application.

With a Map, post 8vo, 68.

MR. MURRAY'S NEW BOOKS.

NOTES from a, DIAR7, 1873-1881. By the Rl.

Hon. Sir MOUNTSTUART E. GRANT DUFP, G.C.S.T., Sometime Under-Secretary
of State for the Colonies, Governor of Madms, 1881-96. 2 vols., crown 8vo, IBs,

[Just out.
*' It is difficult to put this most entertaining book down when once the reader has
dipped inio its pages. For beguiling a dull hoar, for reading at odd moments, it were hard
to find a letter \)tx)k."—St. James's Jiadgei.

EGYPT m the NINETEENTH CENTURY ; or,

Mehemet Ali and his Successors until the British Occupation in 1882. By DONALD
A. CAMERON, H.B.M.'s Consul at Port Said.

The Saturday Bevietc says : " This is a book which was distinctly wanted. As a book
of reference it should prove invaluable to journalists, and as a lucid account of how Egypt
became what she was when England took her in hand, it will be instructive to every
intelligent reader."

THE CORRESPONDENCE OF A DISTINGUISHED IRISHMAN.

With a Portrait, demy 8vo, 12s. 6d.

MR. GREGORY'S LETTER-BOX, 1813 30.

Edited by Lady GRKGOEY.

From the World.—" Lady Gregory's pages bristle with good stories. Indeed, the groat
difficulty of a reviewer in dealing with this fascinating book is the plethora of good things
that clamoor for qaotation."

From the Times.—" A gallery of contemporary portraits, full of interest in Ihemselves,
and admirably illuminated by the bright comments of the Editor."

NEW AND CHEAPER EDITION OF GARDNER'S "HOUSEHOLD MED CINE."

Now ready. THIRTEENTH EDITION. With numerons lUustraUons.
Demy 8vo, 88. 6d.

GARDNER'S HOUSEHOLD MEDICINE and

eiCK-ROOM GUtDE: a Description of Iho Means of Preserving Health, and the
Treatment of Diseases, Injuries, and Emorgeucies. Revised and e.^pressly Adapted
for the Use of Families, Missionaries, and Colonists. By W. H. C. STAVBLKY,
F.R.C.S. Eng.

NEW NOVEL.

This day is published, crown 8vo, Ss.

A SOLDIER of MANHATTAN, and his Ad-

ventures at Ticondcroga and Quebec. Hy J. A. ALTSHELER, Author of "The
Baa of Saratoga."

LAW and POLITICS in the MIDDLE AGES.

By EDWARD JENKS, Reader in English Law in the University of Oxford.
Demy 8vo, 128. [Just out.

*' By far the most imj)ortant and original Imok relnting to jurisprudence published foi
some years in England is Mr. Jenks's * Law and Politics in the Middle Ages.' ^'—Tima.

** It would be scant praise to say that it is readable and interesting ; to the reader who
cares at all for the development of ideas, as distinguished from the bare calendar of
events, it is brilliant,"— Xt^era^wr*.

MEMOIRS of a HIGHLAND LADY (Mis.s Grant

Edited by Lady
[Just out.

of Rothiemurchus, aftcrwa'-ds Mrs. Smith of Baltilwys, 1797'1895).
STRACHEY. Demy &vo, 10s. Od.

"No more delightful book, nnd none with the characteristic Highland atmosphere more
ttrongly perceptible in it, has been published for many a long day than the autobiography
of Elizabeth Grant the book is altogether charming." — Glasgow Herald.

" One of the most delightful books that any reader could desira is to be found, somewhat
unexpectedly, in the * Memoirs of a Highland Lady.* As a picture of life in the Highlands
at the beginning of the century, and of the way in which girls of g -xxl family were theo
educated, Mrs. Smith's Memoirs are invaluable." — World.

THE STUDENT S HISTORY of FRANCE. From

l»ie Earliest TiiuoP to the Fall of the Second Empire in 1870. Ity W. H. JERVIS, M.A.
A NEW EDITION, thoroughly Revised and in great part Re-written. By ARTHUR
HASSALL. Censor of Christ Church, Oxford. With many new Woodcuts, 76*) pazee,
post 8vo, 7s. Cd. [Just out.

*' At a time when France is the 'cynosure of neighbouring eyes,' this text-book may
well find reaiers outside of schools and colleges." — Academy.

LATER GLEANINGS: Theological and

By the Ri^ht Hon. W, B.
[Just mtt.

Ecclesiastical. A New Series of Gleanings of Past Years.
GLADSTONE. Second Edition, royal 16mo, 38. 6d.

Contents: — The Dawn of Creation and Worship — Proem to Genesis— Robert Klsinere;
the Battle of Belief— IngersoU on Christianity — The Elizabethan Settlement— Queen Eliza-
beth and the Church of England— The Church under Henry— Professor Huxley and the
Swine Miracle— The Place of Heresy and Schism— True and False Conceptions of the
Atonement— The Lord's Day— Ajicient Beliefs in a Future State— Soliloquium and Post-
script on the Pope and Anglican Orders.

BY SEVERN SEA, and Other Poems. By

T. HERBERT WARREN, President of Magdalen College, Oxfurd.
7b. 6d. net.

" Mr. Warren's beautiful and scholarly verses."— <Sp«ci«<or.
"Marked by true poetic feeling."— iiYera/«re.

Fcap. 8v(.
[Ju^t out.

CAXON GOSE'S NEW WORK.

AN EXPOSITION of the EPISTLE to the

EPHESIANS. By the Rev. CHARLES GORE, Canon of Westminster. Crown 6vo
38. 6d.

"A New work by Canon Gore is an ecclesiastical event. The book is a popula
exposition in the best sense, conveying to the simplest understanding the results of the
best modern knowledge of this epistle. The general effect of the book is bracing . ...Sure!;
no one can road this book without a quii kenc-d desire to be a Christiau. "-Gwart/'aR.

" It is a brave and esrncst book stiaixht frum the heart of an earnest and brave man."

Indeptndcnt,

BIMETALLISM. A Summary and Examination o

the Argumonts For and Against a Bimetallic System of Cun'ency. By M»]0
LEONARD DARWIN. Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. [Jusiout.

" The book is the best contribution to the currency controversy of recent years. It ma
be read with advantnge by the disputants on both sides." — Scotsman.

NEW EDITION (NINTH) of HANDBOOK t(

SPAIN. By RICHARD FORD. Thoniuehly Revised and Corrected and broiigl
up to date. Index and Dictionary of Hotels, 4 Maps and 65 carefully drawn FUms c

Towns and Buildings. 2 vols., 20s.

[jHtt out

London: SMITH, ELDER k CO, 15, Waterloo Place.

NEW and THOROUGHLY REVISED EDITIOI

of HANDBOOK to INDIA and CEYLON, lucluding BENGAL, BOMBAY, »"
MADRAS, the PAN JAB, NORTH-WEST PROVINCES, BAJPOTANA, *?•, w
NATIVE STATES and ASSAM. With 55 Maps and Plans of Towns and BniMiW
(many new). 20s. [■'<'*• '""•

" Of the general arranprement of the book, and the skill with which an immenfe m»'

of interesting and valuable material has been crowded into a small space, it w""

difficult t.) speak too highly." - St. James's Gazette.

JOHN MUKRAY, Albemarle Ptreet.

March 19, 1898.1 "^E ACADEMY : SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT.

313

^prm0 ^nn:0ttntemcnfs
Supplement,

SATURDAY: MARCH W, \%^%.

THE SPRING SEASON.

WHY "SEASONS" AT ALL?

WE make this week a survey of tke
principal books 'wliicli have been, or
are shortly to be, issued as part of the
business of the Publishers' Spring Season.
The Spring Season is a period which
is variously fixed and measured by different
houses. When, after recovery from his
Christmas lassitude, a j)ublisher begins to
laimch another fleet of books — then begins
his Spring Season. It may begin in
February, March, or April. This year we
should be inclined to describe the operations
as early and scant. The tendency appears
to be to hold over books until the autumn ;
a conclusion which is forced upon us not
only by the lists of announcements we have
received, but by direct admissions on the
part of some firms. The posti^onement in-
volved seems a long one. The autumn is
far, far away ; the skies of another summer
are first to be enjoyed.

The question suggests itself : Why are
there two definite and limited seasons
within which books are issued ? Why
cannot there be a more equable flow of
books all the year round? The dis-
advantages of the present system are
numerous and obvious. To obtain light
on this siibject a representative of the
ACiiDEMY called this week upon Mr. John
Murray, whom he found very willing to
express his views on the "season" system.
Mr. Murray said :

' ' I think I can show you that the custom
of publishing in the recognised ' seasons '
has been brought about inevitably. The
point is one which I have often had occasion
to explain to authors. The reason is simple :
it is a question of the weather."

"Of the weather!"

"Yes. Consider how the English climate
has improved of late years, and what the
effect has been. Times have utterly
changed. The nation has learned to live
out of doors, and loves doing so. What
ihns been the effect of the succession
of great suimuer exhibitions at Earl's
Court and elsewhere — what has been the
effect of bands in the parks — if it has
not been to teach people to be less stay-
!it-home, and to take their pleasures in
the open ? Then consider the enormous new
relish for out-door exercises : bicycling I
The increase of locomotion of every kind I
[t all means that in the fine portions of the
fear people do not read."

"And, therefore, you do not publish ?"
I " Exactly. The fact is, the time in which
publishing can be profitably done is ex-
rciuely well defined. We begin, say, in

the second week of September. We issue
books rapidly up to three weeks before
Christmas. There we stop ; the children are
at home ; the shopping and skating and
walking season has begun. After Christ-
mas we begin to publish with the meeting
of Parliament, and continue doing so imtU
Easter. Easter makes a bad break ; we
recover a little between Easter and Whit-
simtide ; after Whitsuntide books languish
— the simimer has come, and no one reads
anything but papers and magazines. In
brief, we publish when people are reading,
and when they stop reading we stop pub-
lishing."

" But you recognise the disadvantages of
the system?"

" Oh, yes, and regret them. It can be no
advantage to publishers to be issuing books
all together ; and as publishers increase
so does the evU. As you know, it
seriously affects reviewing ; critics are too
idle at one time and too driven at another ;
and space in papers which could be spared
in the summer is not to be had in the
autumn. But there is really no remedy.
The publishing ' seasons ' are the results of
the whole manner of life of the nation."

Our representative mentioned the case of a
well-known novel which was issued last
year in August, and achieved a large
commercial success.

" Yes ; of course a book that for any
reason can command public attention is
superior to these laws. But such books are
rare. And I may tell you that public events
can extinguish temporarily the chances of
the best conceivable book. I remember
that when Livingstone's fame was at its
highest we had printed an edition of
10,000 copies of one of his books: to print
such an edition was a mere matter of course.
The day for publication was fixed ; and the
rush of the public for the book was assured.
Suddenly, a political crisis arose : a General
Election became imminent, and we had to
postpone issuing the book for months. Such
was the effect of a single event. But the
quietly-developed, out-door habits of the
people which have declared themselves of
late years are a far more potent factor.
They delay many books : more, they dictate
the seasons in which all — or nearly all —
books shall be published."

Our representative called next at Mr.
Heinemann's, where he had another con-
versation, and received confirmation of Mr.
Mun-ay's view. " Do you," he asked,
"think that there is a tendency to make
the Autumn Season swallow the Spring
Season? "

"I think there is a certain tendency that
way. But you must not suppose that the
Spring Season has any right to claim
equality with the Autumn Season. It is
often only supplemental to the Autumn
Season, which is, always has been, and
always wiU be, the great book- buying season
of the year."

" Then other things being the same, you
think the Autumn is the best time to pub-
lish a book?"

"I won't say that without qualification.
It is the best time to publish all kinds of

more or less ornamental or ephemeral books;
but I hold that where literature of value is
concerned it is a sound principle to publish
a book when it is ready. A book of literary
importance will be as acceptable to the public
at one time as another. For example, we
had hoped, quite hoped, to publish Dr.
George Brandes' Sttidy of Shakespeare last
October. But it was not ready, and we
held it over. We have now just issued it."

" And you do not regret the delay ? "

"So far as the sale of the books goes,
certainly not ; it comes to the same thing."

"But you would not publish even this
book in, say, July?"

" No, not in July or August. Those
months are impossible."

' ' But last year, did you not publish Mr.
Hall Caine's Christian in August, quite
out of any season, and with conspicuous
success ? "

' ' Yes ; and two years a go we published The
Mdnxman, in August too. But these books
were fiction. The public can do with a good
novel, you know, at the sea-side."

" Then, finally, you do not approve the
minimisation of the Spring Season which is
alleged to be going on ? "

"Not if it means the postponement
to the Autumn of books of serious literary
value. For these the Spring Season is as
good as the Aiitumn Season. It is a pity
to crowd new books into one season, or to
too closely define either season."

PUBLISHERS' ANNOUNCE-
MENTS.

JOHN MUERAY.

The definitive edition of Byron's works and
letters, so long promised, can at last be
sighted on the literary horizon. The poetry
is being edited by Mr. Ernest Hartley
Coleridge, the letters by Mr. Rowland
E. Prothero ; and the Earl of Lovelace,
the poet's grandson, co-operates in the
arrangement of the work, which wHL
be issued in twelve volumes. The first two
volumes will shortly appear, and it is hoped
that the other ten will follow at brief
intervals. A limited edition de luxe, crown
quarto, with a large number of illustrations,
win also be published.

Another important work is Prof.
William J. Knapp's Life, Writings, and
Correspondence of George Borrow. This is to be
the great biography of Borrow, and it will be
welcomed. I?rof. Knapp has spent many
years in searching out and collecting coiTe-
spondence, documents, and facts connected
with the life of George Borrow, and in
visiting the scenes and places described by
him. The public will now have laid
before them an authoritative account of
the author of The Bible in Spain.

A literary biography of interest wUl be
Mr. John A. Doyle's Memoir and Correspon'
dence of Susan Ferrier, the author of
Marriage, Besting, and other novels. The
work will be based on Miss Farrier's
private correspondence.

314

THE ACADEMY: SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT. [Maech 19, i898.

Mr. H. Warrington Smith, will issue,
through Mr. Murray, a travel book entitled
Five Years in Siain. This will be a record of
joumejs up and down that curious country,
and of life among its people from 1891 to
1896.

In the last few weeks Mr. Murray has
published :

A Flower Hunter in Queensland. By Mrs.
Eowan.

Korea and Her Neigkhours. By Mrs.
Bishop.

Law and Politics in the Middle Ages. By
Edward Jenks.

Memoirs of a Highland Lady. By Lady
Strachey.

The StudenVs History of France. By W. H.
Jervis, M.A. This is a new edition, revised
and partly re-written — as we explained in a
note a fortnight ago — by Mr. Arthur Hassall.

MACMILLAN & CO.

Messrs. Macmillan's Spring list is not a
long one. Still, books of importance are
being issued by Messrs. Maomillan at all
times of the year, and their present list con-
tains volumes well worthy of mention.

In biography and history, Messrs. Mac-
miUan will shortly issue the following :

History of the Society of Dilettanti. Com-
piled by Lionel Cust, M.A., Director of the
National Portrait Gallery, and edited by
Sidney Colvin, M.A.

The Emperor Hadrian. A picture of the
Eomano-Hellenic world in his time. By
Ferdinand Gregorovius. Translated by
Mary Eobinson.

Britain^s Xaval Power. Part II. By
Hamilton WiUiams, M.A. Mr. Williams
is instructor in English literature to Naval
Cadets on H. M.S. Britannia.

Henry of Guise and otlier Portraits. By
H. C. Macdowall.

In general literature this house announces :
Harry Bruidale, Fisherman from Manxland to
England. By Henry Cadman. Mr. Cad-
man is the late president of the Yorkshire
Anglers' Association.

Early English Literature : To the Accession
of King Alfred. By ISiupford A. Bruoke.

Divme Imminence: An Essay on the Spiritual
Significance of Matter. By J. R. Illing-
worth, M.A,

Some classical works are in Messrs. Mac-
millan's list : — Parnassus Library of Greek and
Latin Texts: Aeschylus, edited by Prof . Lewis
Campbell; and The Attitude of the G,eek
Tragedians toward Art, by John H. Huddil-
ston.

A dozen scientific works are also an-
nounced, the most important being a
reprint of The Scientific Papers of Thomas
Henry Huxley. These papers, gathered
from the journals of scientific societies, have
been edited by Prof. Michael Foster and
Prof. E. Eay Lankester. They wiU appear
in four volumes, which will be sold in sets
only. Messrs. Macmillan will also issue a
second edition of Mrs. Bernard Bosanquet's
Rich and Poor.

The issue of the volumes of "The
Eversley Bible " goes on regularly. The
seventh volume will be issued shortly.

LONGMANS, GEEEN & CO.

Messrs. Longmans' most important enter-
prise at present is an edition of the works
of the Et. Hon. Prof. F. Max Muller. The
issue of the volumes will begin at once,
and they will appear monthly at a uniform
price of five shillings. The first three will
contain Prof. Miiller's Gifford Lectures,
delivered before the University of Glasgow
in 1888, 1890, and 1891. These will be
entitled : Natural Jteliyion, Physical Religion,
and Anthropological Religion.

Messrs. Longmans have also in jirepara-
tion another book by Lady Nowdigate, The
Cheverels of Cheverel Manor, illustrated with
family portraits.

For the rest, Messrs. Longmans are so
far in advance of their list that we can only
remark that it has been a good list. Since
Christmas there have been issued from this
house the following works :

Brake and the Tudor Navy. With a History
of the Eise of England as a Maritime Power.
By Julian Corbett.

The Life of Francis Place, i771-1854. By
Graham Wallas, M.A., Lecturer at the
London School of Economics and Political
Science.

Aidd Lang Syne. By the Eight Hon.
Prof. F. Max MiiUer.

A Bibliography of British Municipal His-
tory, including Gilds and Parliamentary Repre-
sentation. By Charles Goss.

A Memoir of Major- General Sir Henry
Creswiche Rawlinson, Bart. By George
Eawlinson.

Shrewshury : a Romance. By Stanley J.
Weyman.

2'he Sundering Flood : a Romance. By
William Morris.

Weeping Ferry, and Other Stories. By
Margaret L. Woods.

Allegories. By the Very Eev. Frederic
W. Farrar, D.D., Dean of Canterbury.

Two military and two religious works are
announced bj' Messrs. Longmans as "nearly
ready " :

The Story of the Malakand Field Force. By
Lieut Winston Spencer Churchill.

The Life of General Sir Richard Meade,
K. C.S.L, CLE. By Thomas H. Thornton.

Sotne IFords of St. Paul. By Henry Parry
Liddon, D.D., late Canon and Chancellor
of St. Paul's.

"Behold the Man ! " Addresses upon the
Seven TFords from the Cross. By the Eev.
George Brett, M.A.

METHUEN & CO.

Messrs. Methuen have a strong list,
particularly in books of travel which have
also a political interest, In our present
issue we notice, for example. Lieutenant S.
Vandeleur''8 Campaigning on the Upper Nile
and Niger, and Mr. Lionel Decle's Three
Years in Savage Africa. These books are
to be followed by The Niger Sources, from
the pen of the man who is probably the
best qualified in the world to deal with
the subject. Colonel J. Trotter. Two other
works of similar interest and importance.
Prince Henri of Orleans' From Tonkin to
India, and Mr. Michael Davitt's Life and

Progress in Australasia, have already been
issued by Messrs. Methuen. They are also
aliead of their list in respect of Mr. E. V.
Zenker's Anarchism and Mr. Grinling's
History of the Great Northern Railway — both
works having recently appeared.

The most interesting of Messrs. Methuen's
announcements which remains to bo fulfilled
is an edition of Th Poems of Shahspeare,
edited by Mr. George Wyndham, M.P., whose
introduction to Mr. Nutt's edition of North's
Plutarch will bo remembered as a fine piece
of work. This edition contains the "Venus,"
the "Lucrece," and the "Sonnets," and is
prefaced with an elaborate introduction of
over 140 pages. The text is founded on
the first quartos, with an endeavour to
retain the original reading. A sot of notes
deals with the problems of Date, the Eival
Poets, Typography, and Punctuation ; and
the editor has commented on obscure pas-
sages in the light of contemporary works.

In fiction Messrs. Methuen have already
done well : Simon Dale, by Anthony Hope,
and The Vintage, by E. F. Benson, being to
their credit on the bookstalls. They
announce :

Bijli the Dancer. By J. B, Patton. Tlie
scenes are laid on the Ganges.

Cross Trails. By Victor Waite. A
romance founded on a search for a lest
Spanish treasure-ship.

Miss Erin. By M. E. Francis. The
heroine is the penniless daughter of one of
the leaders of the Irish rising in 1848. She
becomes an heiress and is wooed by an
English Conservative Member of Parha-
ment ; hence the story turns on the struggle
of love and principle.

The Philanthropist. By Lucy Maynard, a
new writer.

CLAEENDON PEESS.

The Clarendon Press has in store some
works of great interest to students of
English literature and the English language.
Among these the following should bo
noted :

Dryden's Critical Essays. Edited by W. P.
Ker, M.A.

'The TForks of Moliere, in the series of
"Oxford Texts," and in miniature.

A Summary Catalogue of Bodleian MSS.
Vol. VI. By F. Madan, M.A.

Dictionary of Proper Names and Notuhk
Matters in the Works of Dante. By Paget
Tojmbee, M.A.

A Catalogue of the A)itiquities in the Cyprus
Museum. By J. L. Myers, M.A., and M.
Ohnefalsch Eichter, Ph.D. With illustra-
tions, &c.

Bosworth's Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, Supple-
ment. By T. N. ToUer, M.A.

A New English Dictionary, founded maiiihj
on the Materials collected by the PhiUkgicd
Society. Portions of G, by Henry Bradley,
M.A. ; and of H, by Jame's A. H. Murray,
M.A., LL.D.

King Alfred's ■Old-Enylish Tramlatim of
Boethius' " De Consolalione Philosophiae." By
W. J. Sedgefield, M.A.

ITing Horn. Edited by Joseph Hall, M..4.

A New English Grammar, Logical ml
Historical. A'ol. II. : Syntax. By Hewy
Sweet, M.A.

March 19 1898.] THE ACADEMY : SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT.

315

Among other books in active preparation at
the Clarendon Press may be mentioned the
following :

Nouum Testamentum Domini Nodri lesu
Chriiti Latine, secundum Editionem S. Uiero-
nymi, ad Codd. MSS. fidem recensnit I.
Wordsworth, S.T.P., Episcopus Sarisbu-
riensis ; in operis societatem adsumto H. I.
White, A.M. Partial. Pasc. Y. (completing
Vol. I.).

The Politics of Aristotle. Edited by W. L.
Newman, M.A. Vols. III. and IV. (com-
pleting the work).

Thesaurus Syriacus. Edidit E. Payne
Smith, S.T.P. Fasc. X., Pars 11.

An Abridged Syriac Lexicon. By Mrs.
Margoliouth. Part II.

A Dictionary of Vernacular Syriac. By
A. J. Maclean, M.A.

A Sebreie and English Lexicon of the Old
Testament. Based on the Lexicon of
Gesenius ; as translated by E. Eobinson.
Edited bv Francis Brown, D.D., S. E. Driver,
D.D., and C. A. Briggs, D.D. Part VII.

Gesenius' Helrew Grammar. As edited
and enlarged by E. Kautzsch. Translated
from the twenty-fifth German edition by the
late Eev. G. W. CoUins, M.A. The trans-
lation revised and adjusted to the twenty-
sixth edition by A. E. Cowley, M.A.

Essays on Secondary Education. Edited by
Christopher Cookson, M.A.

Sir G. C. Lewis's Use and Abuse of Political
Terms. Edited by Thomas Ealeigh, D.C.L.

CAMBEIDGE UNIVEESITY PEESS.

This establishment has the following books
in the press :

Borough and Township. Being the Ford
Lectures delivered in the University of
Oxford in the Michaelmas Term, 1897, by
F. W. Maitland, LL.D.

The Syriac Version of the Ecclesiastical
History of Eicsebius. Edited by William
Wright, LL.D.

A Treatise on Universal Algebra. With
applications by A. N. Whitehead, M.A.

The Cambridge Historical Series : An
Essay on Western Civilisation in its Economic
Aspects {Ancient Times). By W. Cunning-
ham, D.D.

Cambridge Natural Science Manuals
(Biological Series) — Fossil Plants : A Manual
for Students of Botany and Geology. By
A. C. Seward, M.A., F.G.S.

Vertebrate Palceontology . By A. S. Wood-
ward, M.A.

The Monroe Doctrine. By W. F. Eed-
iaway, B.A.

Collected Mathematical Papers of the late
'Prof. Arthur Cayley, Sc.D., F.P.S. Index
|» the whole thirteen volumes.

WM. BLACKWOOD & SON.

Messrs. Blackwood's Spring announce-
aents consist chieiiy of books of History,
Jiography, and Travel. Here are a few of
be more striking items in a good list :

The Diary of a Sun Seeker. By G. W.
teevens.

Side Lights on Siberia. By J. Y. Simpson.

T/ie Saving of Ireland. By Sir George
aden Powell.

Adventures of the Comte de la Muette
during the Reign of Terror. By Bernard
Capes.

Millais and Sis Works. By W. M. Spiel-
mann,

TJie Invasion of the Critnea. (An abridge-
ment.) By A. W. Kinglake.

A Popular Manual of Finance. By Sydney
J. Murray.

Several of the above works have already
been issued. Mr, Steevens's Diary of a
Sim Seeker will be a reprint of the articles
he is sending from Egypt to the Daily Mail.
The Invasion of the Crimea is an abridgment
of Kinglake's Crimea for military students,
and covers the history of the war from its
commencement down to the death of Lord
Eaglan.

WILLIAM HEINEMANN.

Mr. Heinemaitn can be depended on for
a strong list, be the season what it may.
He announces the following works :

The Indian Frontier War. By Lionel
James. This is an account of the Mohmund
and Tirah Expeditions 1897. The book
contains thirty-two fuU-page Uluatrations
from drawings by the author and photo-
graphs, besides plans and maps. In one
volume.

A translation of Ilistoire Politique de
VEurope Contemporaire. Evolution des
partis et des formes politiques 1814-1896.
By C. Seignobos.

A translation of Essai de Semantique
(Science des significations). By Michel
Breal.

The Life of Judge Jeffreys. By H. B.
Irving, M.A., Oxon. With three portraits
wA facsimile of a letter.

The Palmy Days of Nance Oldfield. By
Edward Eobins. With twelve illustrations.

The Second Volume of Byron's Works.
Edited by W. E. Henley. Being Poems,
Vol. I. containing " Hours of Idleness,"
"English Bards and Scotch Eeviewers "
and " Childe Harold." With notes by the
Editor.

In the " Literatures of the World '
Series: Vol. IV., A Short History of Italian
Literature, byEichard Gamett, C.B., LL.D. ;
and Vol. V., A Short History of Spanish
Literature, by J. Fitzmaurice-Kelly.

In the " Great Educators " Series: Vol.
VIII., Horace Mann and the Common
School Revival in the United States. By
B. A. Hinsdale, Ph.D., LL.D.

Catherine Sforza : a Study. By Count
Pasolini. Adapted from the Italian by Paul
Sylvester. With illustrations.

Robert, Earl Nugent : a Memoir. By
Claude Nugent. With portraits, &c.

A new and enlarged edition of Mr.
Whistler's Gentle Art of Making Enemies.
With portraits.

Lonely Lives : a Play. By Gerhart
Ilauptmanni Translated by Mary Morison.

A selection from the Poems of Wilfrid
Scawen Blunt. With an introduction by
W. E. Henley.

In Fiction Mr. Heinemann is issuing the
following works :

Dreamers of the 0/ietto. By I. ZangwiU.
This work was published on Wednesday.

Th« Londoners : an Absurdity. By Robert
Hichens.

The House of Hidden Treasure, By Maxwell
Gray.

King Circumstance. A Volume of Short
Stories by Edwin Pugh. The promise
shown by Mr. Pugh in his Man of Straw
gives interest to this and the next announce-
ment.

Tony Drum : a Cockney Boy. By Edwin
Pugh.

'ITie Dull Miss Archmard. By Anne D.
Sedgwick.

The Open Boat. A Volume of Short
Stories by Stephen Crane.

The Lake of Wine. By Bernard Capes.

A Champion in the Seventies. By Edith
A. Bamett.

Ezekiel's Sin. By J. H. Pearce.

A translation of D'Annunzio's II Piacere,
By Georgina Harding. Several readers of
Miss Harding's Triumph of Death expressed
the hope that she would translate II Piacere.

The Drones must Die. By Max Nordau.

A Romance of the First Consul. By Matilda
Mailing.

The Old Adam and the New Eve. By
Eudolf Golm.

Absalom' s Hair aai A Painful Memory. By
Bjomstjeme Bjomson.

Boule de Suif. Translated from the
French of Guy de Maupassant. With fifty-
eight illustrations by Fran9ois Thevenot.

T. FISHER UNWIN.

Mr. Unwin's Spring list is strong in
Travel Books and Guides. The following
will shortly be issued by him :

Through Unknown Tibet. By Captain
M. S. Wellby, 18th Hussars. Prior to
Captain Wellby and Lieutenant Malcolm no
one had attempted the exploration of
Northern Tibet. The explorers aimed at
discovering the source of Chu Ma, and
learning something of the weak administra-
tion of the Chinese Government. They
accomplished their journey from Leh to
Pekin with success, after being about four
months at an elevation of 16,000 feet. above
the level of the sea. Captain WeUby's book
will contain over sixty full-page and smaller
illustrations, besides maps, appendices, &c.

Across the Sub-Arctics of Canada: 3,200
Miles by Canoe and Snowshoe through the Barren
Lands. By J. W. Tyrrell, C.E.

British Guiana; or, Work and Wanderings
Among the Creoles and Coolies, the Africans
and Indians of the Wild Country, By the
Eev. L. Orookall.

Paris- Parisien : a Complete Guide to Paris,
containing the following sections : I. — What
to See. II.— What to Know. III.— -
Parisian Ways. IV. — Practical Paris.

Saunterings in Florence. By E. Ghrifi.
This is a new handbook for English and
American tourists.

All the above works, with the exception
of the Paris guide, will be illustrated.

Among books of more purely literary in-
terest Mr, Unwin announces :

Memorials of an Eighteenth Century Painter
{James Northcote). By Stephen Gwynn.
This work will be fully illustrated with
photogravures, &c., and it may be expected

316

THE

ACADEMY : SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT. [MAnon i9, 1898.

to contain miicli pleasant literary gossip
connected with Hazlitt and other writers.

Brunetiere's Essai/s in French Literature.
A selection, translated by D. Nichol Smith,
with a preface by the author, speciaUy written
for this, the authorised English translation.

Proverbs, Maxims, and Phrases of all Ages.
Classified subjectively, and arranged alpha-
betically.

Shelley: a Monograph. By Dr. Uuido

^Mr. Unwin has joined the " "Waverley "
branch of publishing, for it is a branch in
itself. Undeterred by the many new editions
of Scott's novels now in the market, Mr.
Unwin is about to launch his " Century
Edition " of Scott's works. Each novel will
be complete in one volume, and have a
eollotype frontispiece, a book-plate and
ornamental title, and devices in red and
black, but no editorial matter. The set will
be completed in 25 vols., of which the first
eight are now ready.

KEGAN PAUL,

TRENCH,
& CO.

TEUBNER

Most of the books announced for the
Spring by this firm have already been issued.
This is the case with Mr. "W. A. Lindsay's
work on Her Majesty's Household, 1837-97,
Miss Clara Bell's translation of Huysmans'
novel. La CatMdrale, and the new edition of
Mr. Austin Dobson's William Hogarth.

Messrs. Kegan Paul & Co. give promin-
ence to their new and completed edition of
The Book of the Bead, edited by Mr. E.
A. Wallis, Keeper of the Egyptian
and Assyrian departments in the British
Museum. The work wiU be divided into
three volumes, of which the third only —
containing the translation — will be sold
separately. The contents of the volumes
will be as follows :

Vol. I. — The Complete Egyptian Texts of
the Theban Recension of The Book of the
Bead, printed in hieroglyphic type.

Vol. II. — A Complete Vocabulary to The
Book of the Bead, containing over 35,000
references.

Vol. III. — An English translation of the
Theban Recension of The Book of the Bead,
with an introduction containing chapters on
the history, object and contents of the book ;
the Resurrection; the Judgment; the
Elysian Fields ; the Magic of The Book of
the Bead, &c. This volume is illustrated by
three large facsimiles of sections of papyri,
printed in full colours, and eighteen plates
illustrating the palaaography of the various
recensions of The Book of the Bead from
B.C. 3,500 to A.D. 200.

Another work important to scholars, and
even more closely connected with the British
Museum, is being issued by this firm. It is
An Index to tJis Early Printed Books in the
British Museum. The work is divided into
four parts, of which the first, dealing with
early German books, has just been issued.
In the succeeding parts the books of Prance,
the Netherlands, England, and Spain will
be catalogued.

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS.

Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons issue a good
list. Lovers of "Walt Whitman will welcome
a series of letters written by the poet from
the hospitals in "Washington during the war
of the Rebellion. These reveal a very
tender and attractive side of "Walt "Whit-
man's character, and they wUl bear the
tide. The Wound- Bresser.

Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons announce
that they have in preparation, and will
shortly issue, the third volume in the series
comprising the University Lectures on
Religions delivered in America. This
volume is to be entitled Jewish Religious
Life after the Exile, and has been prepared
by the Rev. T. K. Cheyne, D.D., Canon of
Rochester, and Oriel Professor at Oxford of
the Interpretation of Holy Scripture. The
volume wiU deal with the following sub-
jects : " Religious Life in Judsea before the
Arrival of Nehemiah " ; " Nehemiah, Ezra,
and Manasseh " ; " Jewish Religious Ideals ' ' ;
" Jewish "Wisdom : its Meaning, its Object,
and Varieties" ; "Orthodox and Heretical
"Wisdom " ; " The Power of Judaism in
attracting Foreigners; its Higher Theology;
its Relation to Greece, Persia, and Babylon."
The following works of fiction are in
Messrs. Putnam's Sons' list :

Lorraine : A Romance. By Robert "W.
Chambers.

Beleaguered : A Story of the Uplands of
Baden, By Herman T. Koemer.

Lost Man^s Lane. By Anna Katherine
Green.

Messrs. Putnam's list contains many
works of American history and biography.

are Messrs. "Ward, Lock
By B. D. De

Hunte

By " Ormo Agnus."
By Guy Boothby.

S. Fletcher.

By E. Phillips-Oppen-

By Richard
By Archer P.
M. McDonnell

CASSELL & CO.

Messes. Cassell announce, with particu-
lars, three new novels by Mr. Max Pemberton,
Mr. E. "W. Homung, and Mr. Headon HUl.
A Woman of Kronstadt, Mr. Pemberton's
novel, is a love story, and treats of the
fortunes of an English girl, Marian Best,
who was sometime governess to the children
of General Stefanovitch in Kronstadt, and
of her attempts to steal the plans of the
fortress. Mr. E. "W. Homung's story, Toung
Blood, has to do with modern financial
villainy, and a love element is not wanting.
Mr. Headon Hill's story. Spectre Gold, is one
of adventure in the wild North-"West, with
Klondike in the foreground. The story is
dated in the year before the first rush down
the Yukon.

Messrs. Cassell's "Century Science Series"
win include Michael Faraday ; His Life
and Work. By Prof. Silvanus P. Thompson.

"WARD, LOCK & CO.

Messes. "Waed, Lock & Co. have an
attractive list, chiefly composed of fiction.

Mr. George GifEen's cricket-book. With
Bat and Ball, has already been issued, and
is noticed in another column of our present
issue.

Cryptography ; or, the History, Principles,
and Practice of Cypher Writing, by Mr. P. "W.
Hulme, wiU be issued by this firm imme-
diately.

The following
& Co.'s novels :

All Italian Fortune
Tassinari.

Countess Petrovski.

The Lust of Hate.

Pasquinado. By J.

Af a Man Lives.
hoira.

The Batchet Biamonds.
Marsh.

For the Rebel Cause.
Crouch.

A Stolen Life. By
Bodkin, Q.C.

Sir Tristram. By Thorold Ashley.

In addition to the above, Messrs. Ward
Lock will have ready shortly a new book by
Mr. Ernest E. Williams, the author of Made
in Oermany, entitled Marching Backward: a
treatise on the question of the increased
foreign competition from which certain of
our home industries are suffering.

GEORGE REDWAT.

Mu. Geoege Redway announces three
biographies for publication this Spring :

The Reminiscences of Miss M. E. Betham
Edwards. This lady's novels have always
been so popular, and who enjoyed the friend-
ship of George Eliot, and of many others
who have made a name during this century.

A Life of the latt James Ilain Friswell,
author of The Gentle Life and other
books which were widely read some few
years ago.

A Memoir of John Herand, in which will
appear a number of letters from Robert
Southey, poet laureate, which have not
previously been printed. Mr. Herand led
the crusade against the Patent Theatres
Act, which threatened to destroy the vitality
of the drama in England.

The Rev. W. Connor Sydney has com-
pleted an important work, entitled The Early
Bays of the Nineteenth Century, deaUng with
the social condition of England, on the same
lines as he adopted in his previous work,
Tlie Social Life of the Eighteenth Century.

GEORGE BELL & SONS.

Messes. Bell's list is strong, as usual, in
works dealing with Art. An interesting
book should be Sir Wyke Bayliss's Rex
Regum. This is a study of the likenesses of
Christ from the time of the Apostles down
to the present day. The book will, of
course, owe much of its interest to its
illustrations. These have been taken direct
from the original paintings.

Another illustrated art book to be issued
by this firm is The Royal Gallery at Hampton
Court, by Mr. Ernest Law. It consists of
an illustrated historical catalogue of the
pictures in the Queen's collection in that
Palace, with descriptive, biographical, and
critical notes. The work is enlarged from
the earlier edition, and will contain one
hundred plates.

Interludes is the title under which Messrs.
Bell will issue six popular lectures on
musical subjects that were delivered by the
late Mr. Henry C. Bannister. These have
been collected and edited by Mr. Stewart

March 19, 1898.] THE ACADEMY: SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT.

317

HURST & BLACKETT'S NEW BOOKS.

NEW WORK BY MR. MACKENZIE BELL.

Thia is, in effect, the authorised Life of the Poetess, beJn^ based larprely on information and

letters sapplieil by ter relatives and intimate friends.

A THIRD EDITION IS NOW READY.

In 1 Vi.l., demy 8vo, with Portraits nnd Fncsimilea, cstra cloth, price 12s.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI : a Biographi

(lal and Critical Study. By JIAOKENZIE BKLL, Author of "Spring's
Immorla'ity, and other I'cems," " Charles Whitehead : a Biographical
and Critical Monograph," &c.

" It is natural there should l>e a demand for a life of so true a poet as the late
CTirisiiua Rossetti, she was s-ch a beautiful character and made so deep an impression upon
lier friends that any authentic record of her must bo worth readinpf." — Times.

UNDER TUE ESPECIAL PATRONAOE OF HER MAJESTY.

SIXTY-SHTENTH YEAR OF PUBLICATION.

Now ready, in 1 vo'., royal 8vo, with the Arms heantifally engraved, extra clotb, gilt edg( s,

price 31e. 6d.

LODGE'S PEERAGS and BARONET-

AGE for 1898. Comcted by tho Nobility.
I "This hnmlsomo volumo, which i8 published under the patronaRe ff the Queen, is
irofuaely Ulustvflted mth coats of arms, it in well known and universally trusted, atd
,ve may add, well bouod and woil printed." — Times, January 6, T898.

•• No pains have been Siared to make the work authentic and Pccnrate in every detail."

Globe, January 11, lfc98.

NEW AND POPULAR NOVELS.
;WERESIA. By Winifred Grahim, Author of "A Strange

' Solntion," &c. In 1 vol., crown 8vo, 6s.

CHE CAPRICE OP JULIA, By Lewis Sergeant. Now

I ready, in 1 vol., crown 8^•o, Os.

"In reading ' The Caprice of .lulia' one ia especially struck by tho excellence of the
ityle; it is at once easy, tlowiug, and, in phraae and tone, emir entlv characteristic of the
uipposed autobiographer, the admiring young gentleman who is made to feel most keenly
ithe caprios of Julia.' Altogether tho novel, being freshly and agreeal)ly written, is sure
o find admirers." — Globe.

STORM-RENT SKY. Scenes of Love and Revolution.

By M. liETIlAM-EDWARDS. Author of " Kitty," '* Dr. Jacob," *' Brother Gabriel,"
*c._ Sf cond Edition now ready, in I vol., crown 8vo, 68.
*' This a story of the woodlauders of the Champa^e country of France in tho days of
le great Revolution. * A Storm- Rent Sky * is an interesting novel.'*— Glasgow Herald.

"The humours of Prudent help to brighten a tale which will rank among Miss
cham-Edwards's most successful creations.'*— G/o6<?.

LOW-BORN LASS, By Mrs. Herbert Martin, Author

of " Grentloman George," " Britomart," <kc. Now ready, in 1 vol , crown 8vo, Ps,
" The story is realistic perhaps, but its realism, is none tho less true in that it eschews
luckraking."— P«ii J/a/^ Gazetlp.

'* The story is written with a vigour and go which make it well worih readinsr."

Black and White,

'OUNG NIN. By F. W. Robinson, Author of "Grand-

mother's Money," &c. Third Edition now rcudy, in 1 vol., crown 6vo, Os.

UNSET.

By Beatrice Whitby, Author of "The Awaken-

of Mary Fenwick,*' &<•. Fourth Kdition now ready, in I vol., crown 8vo, 6a.

illSS BETTY'S MISTAKE.

Anther of " Tlio Claim of Antlumy Lockhart,'
1 vol., crown 8vo, 68.

By Adeline Sergeant.

' Caspar Brooke's Daughter," Ac. In
\_Readij next week.

HURST & BLACKETT'S

HALF-CROWN SERIES IN RED CLOTH. NEW ADDITIONS.

HE LIFE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE. By Charles

I DUKE YONGE.

I'HE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS. By Eliot Warburton

!he old COURT SUBURB. By Leigh Hunt.

IDELE. By Julia Kavanagh.

1 ATHALIE. By Julia Kavanagh.

IT. OL AVE'S. By the Author of " Janita's Cross."

N THE SCENT. By Lady Margaret Majendie-
IrANDMOTHERS money. By F- W. Robinson.
iDAM GRAEME OF MOSSGRAY- By Mrs. Oliphant.
IaRBARA'S HISTORY. By Amelia B. Edwards.
'HE LAIRD OF NORLAW. By Mrs. Oliphant.

r WAS A LOVER AND BIS LASS. By Mrs. Oliphant.
JONES. By Mrs. Oliphant.

0 CHURCH. By P. W. Robinson.

pRD BRACKENBURY. By Amelia B. Edwards, LL.D.

.1 ROSE IN JUNE. By Mrs. Oliphant.

HCEBE, JUNIOR. By Mrs. Oliphant.

iHROUGH THE LONG NIGHT. By Mrs. E. Lynn Linton.

ilFE OP THE REV. EDWARD IRVING. By Mrs.

1 OLIPHANT.

lABGABET AND HER BRIDESMAIDS- By the Author

of " The Valley of a Bundred Fires."

'HE VALLEY OP A HUNDRED FIRES. By the Author

of " Mnrj.ravct f nd Ber Pridesmnids."
HURST & BLACKETT, Limited, 13, Gnat Marlborough Street.

SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO.

RECOLLECTIONS
YEARS IN

sm CH.iELES A. GORDOX, K.C.B.

OF THIRTY -NINE
THE ARMY:

GwBilor and ihe Baltle of Mabarajpore. 1843 The Gold Coast
Africa, 1^47-48. The Indian Ma' it, y, 1857-58. The Kxteoitioa
in China, 1860-81. Tie Siese of Pari*, J87C-71, &o.
By Sir CHARLES A. GORDON, K.C.B. 123.

BROWN MEN AND WOMEN;

Or, the tiouth Sea. Islands in 1895 and 1803.

By EDWARD REEVES.

With Map, Music, and 60 fine Dlustiations from new Photogi-aphs, 10s. 6d.

A bright and graphic account of Polynesia as it is to-day. The Isknds visited were : The

Friendly Islands— Tonga— Samoa— The Fijian Group— The Cook Group— The Society Islands.

A Special Chapter on Missionaries.

NEW NOVELS.

THE ROIVTANOE of a NAUTCH GIRL. By Mrs. Frank

PENNY, Author of " Caste and Creed." to.
The scene ia lain in Southern India, and the book depicts native and European life and
character. The plot tiims upon the disappearance of an Englishman who has mixed himself
up mth a devil-dunciug function.

FOR the LIFE of OTHERS. By G. Cardella. Second

Edition, (Js.
'* For a long time there has issved from the Press nothing in our oreative literature
more perfect in its way." —'Birmingham Post. '^ Essentiany a masterpiece. The best
novel that has appeared shiee the sprinf/.^'—Bodk Gazette. " Of absorbing interest
throughout**'— (Miisgov: Herald. '* One of the most notable w^vels we have lately met.*' —
Bookseller. " Deeply interesting and stimulat ing."—Va\l Mall Gazette.

ST. KEVIN, and other IRISH TALES. By R. D.

EOGERS. fis.
" Of simple, oht-faxhioned fun there is plenta >» the hook."— Tones. "Irish stories nf
the good old ernsted kind, ofwiiich Priests and Peasantry, Potatoes and Purgatory are
the chief ingredients." — Binningham Post.

DEAD MEN'S TALES. By Charles Junor. Picture

Boards, 2s. A Collection of powerful Australian Stoiies.
" There is life, strong and insistent, but there is no morality in hvt pages, and the
hunt for gold out in the wastes, and the cmtrivances for it in the cities, afford ampli
scope for the author's peculiar talents** — Litemry World.

DICTIONARY OF QUOTATIONS. In 2 Parts.

(1.) ENGLISH. Bv Colonel P. H. Dalbiae, M.P. ieeond

Edition, pp. 51fj, 7s. Gd.

(2.) CLASSICAL (Latin and Gpesk), with Enerlish Transla-
tions. By T. B. HARBOTTLE. Pp. fiSfi, 7s. (id.
Botli fully Indexed under Catchwords, Subjects, and Authoi-s,
" It is the highest commendali'in to say that Mr. Ilarbottle has produced a volume in
every way worthy tnfvUow the English one. Its range over the Greek and Latin authors
is remarkably complete ; accuracy has Ijeen wHl studie't, and the Ennl-sh trannlation ts
always given, where possible, froin some standard work." — Pall Mall Gazette. " Equal to
its predecessor in fulness, accuracy, thoughtful arrangement, and general convenience."
— Bii-rainghara Post.

BY PROFESSOR HENRY SIDGWICK.

PRACTICAL ETHICS. By H. Sidgwick, Lit.D , Knights-

bridge Piofessor of Jloral Pliilosophy in tho Univei-sity of Cambridge, ia. Od.
" His treatment is, as usual, able, thorough, and extremely fair. Practical enough to
be intensely interesting."— VaU Mall Gazette.

ETHICAL SYSTEMS (Ethics, Vol. IL). By Professor

W. WtJNDT. Cs.

The Fii'st Volume, THE FACTS of the MORAL LIFE {7s. 6d.i, has already- been
published; and the Tliird and Concluding Volimio, THE PRINCIPLES of MORALITY and
the SPHERE of their VALIDITY (7s. 6d.), will be published this year.

" We strongly recommend alt students of ethics to study this able and luminous sketch
of the development of the science." - University CoiTospondent.

INTRODUCTION to PHILOSOPHY : a Handbook for

students of Psychology, Ix)gic, Ethics, Esthetics, and General Philosophy. By Pi-ofes.sor
KULl'E. Transktod by W. P. PILLSBfliV and Professor E. B. TITCHEXLR. (is.

THE APPLICATION of PSYCHOLOGY to the SCIENCE

of EDUC.VTION'. By .T. F. HERBAHT. ■I'ianslat_-<1, witli Notes and an Introduction
to the Study of Herbart (125 pp.), by BEATRICK C. MULLINER, B.A.Lond., I-ccturer
at the Liulies' CoUege, Cheltenham. Preface by DOROTHEA BEALE ; and a Glosai ry.
Index, Diagi-ams, and 5 Plates, 4s. Cd.

PORT -ROYAL EDUCATION: Saint -Cyran, Arnauld,

I>ancelot, Nicole, De Sid, Guyot, Coustel, Fontiinc, Jacqueline Piuscal. Extract!, « llh
an Introduction, by FELIX CADET, Inspector-General of Public InstrucUon. Trans-
lated by A. D. JONES. 4s. Od.

WHIST of the FUTURE : a Forecast submitting Defects

in existing Whist Lnvs. Contiining Argmncnts against the .\moncan Leads
being applicible t/) .Strong Hands and Weak Hands alike. By Ijeut - LuL
LOWSLEY, R.E. ;is «d.

BY DR. ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE.

VACCINATION a DELUSION : its Penal Enforcement a

fiimo. proved from the Evidence of the Royal Commission. WitJi l-> folding
IJiagrains, Is.

AARBERT : a Drama without Stage or Scenery, Wrought

out thi-ough Song in many Metres, mostly LjTical, By WILUAM MARSHALL,
Pp. vi.-369, ."is. ^^^

SWAN 30.NNENSCHEIN k CO, Liiiitkd, London,

318

THi*:

ACADEMY : SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT, [m^h 19, 1898

MACMILLAN & CO.'S

NEW BOOKS.

SECOND IMPRESSION NOW READY.
LIFE AND LETTERS OP

WILLIAM JOHN BUTLER,

Late Dean of Lincoln, and sometime

Vicar of Wantage.

With Portraits.

Demy 8vo, 12s. 6d. net.

f}nABDIAy.—"lJi this book we are brought into
contact with agood man,' and are enabled to realise some-
tWne of one of the most effective mflaenoes that have
moalded the practical life of the Oharch in our tinae
The book ia not too long for the importance of its sahject
nor too short for interest, and it will form a valuable
•document 'for future historians of the ^English Church m
the latter part of the nineteenth century.

FRAZER'S PAUSANIAS:

DESCRIPTION of GREECE. Translated, with

Commentary, by J. Q. FRAZER, M.A., LL.D.

Illustrated. 6 vols., 8vo, Six Guineas not.

OLASaOW BERALD.—"lt ia practically an encyclo-

pajrli* of all that has been done by the pen, the pick-axe,

and the spade to illuminate the religion, the topography,

and the history of Greece. To every classical library it is

simply indispensable."

RE-ISSUE IN TEN MONTHLY PARTS.
PART I. NOW READY.

CAMBRIDGE DESCRIBED and

ILLUSTRATED. Being a Short History of the
Town and University. By THOMAS DINHAM
ATKINSON, and an Introduction by JOHN
WILLIS CLARK, M.A., F.S.A., Begistrary of
the University. 8vo, sewed, 2s. net each Part.
(Subscriptions received only for the whole work.)

Foreign Statesmen SeHesm

Edited by Professor BURY, Trinity College,
Dublin.

MIRABEAU. By P. F. Willert,

M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Exeter College,
Oxford. Crown 8vo, 28. 6d.

REASON and FAITH: a

Reverie. Fcap. 8vo, 3s. 6d.

NEW NOVEL BY ROLF BOLDREWOOD.
Crown 8vo, 63.

PLAIN LIVING: a Bush Idyll.

By ROLF BOLDREWOOD, Author ol
" Robbery under Arms," " The Miner's
Eight," &c.

WORLD.— "Once more the leading Australian novelisi
proves himself a prince of story-tellers.'*

ACADEMY.—" A hearty story deriving charm from th.
odonrs of the bush, and the bleating of incalculabli
sheep."

DAILY MAIL.— " One of the lightest, brightest, and
most social of stories."

NEW NOVEL BY THE AUTHOR OF
" PALLADIA."

A CHAPTER of ACCIDENTS.

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DAILY CHRONICLE.-" kn amusing, a laughable
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The story abounds with humour.... We can safely

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JOHN LANE'S LIST.

NOW READY.

FOUR LETTERS to FRANCE. By Emile Zola. With an In-

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THE CHILD WHO WILL NEVER GROW OLD. By K. Douglas

KING, Author of " Father Hilarion," " The Scripture Reader of St. Mark's," &c. Crown 8vo, 5s.

THE SPANISH WINE : a Novel. By Fbank Mathew, Author of

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worthy to rank with ' What Maisie Knew.' "- Vanity Fair.

A MAN from the NORTH : a Novel. By E. A. Bennett. Crown

Mr. Bennett has written a book that will come to the jaded novel-reader as a splendid surprise."— Sioci <t White.

GODEFROI and YOLANDE : a Play. By Laurence Irving. Small

4 to, 3s. 6d. net.

SUJVIMER MOTHS : a Play in Four Acts. By William Heinemann.

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POEMS. With which is incorporated " CHRIST in PIADES." By

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" Mr. Phillips, while endowing his personages with a complexity of feeling which is modern, has at the same time
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" Mr. William Watsok in Portntr/htlji Bevieui.

"No such remarkable book of verse as this has appeared for several years. Mr. Phillips boldly challenges
comparison, in style and subject, with the work of great masters ; the writers whom he makes .you think of range up to
Milton and do not fall below Landor. He attempts nothing small, and his poetry brings with it that sensation of novelty
and that suffusion of a strongly marked personality which stamps a genuine poet. His blank verse is entirely his own,
everywhere dignified, sonorous, and musical. No man in our generation, and few in any generation, have written better
than this. — Literature. . , . . . ^ , ,

" The man who, with a few graphic touches, can call up for us images like these, in such decisive and masterly
fashion, is not one to be rated with the common herd, but rather as a man from whom we have the right to expect hereafter
someof the great things which will endure."— Mr. W. L. CotjRTNET in Z»oi7» re/uffrapA. . ,.• w ■

"We may pay Mr. Phillips the distinguished compliment of saying that his blank verse is finer than his worli in

rhyme Almost the whole of this book is concerned with life and death, largely and liberally contemplated; it i»

precisely that kind of contemplation which onr recent poetry lacks ... We praise Mr. Phillips for many excellences, out
chiefly for the great air and ardour of his poetry, its persistent loftiness."— i)a!7i/ Chronicle.

MARRIAGE QUESTIONS in MODERN FICTION. By EuzABiiiH

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and citizenship; for teachers: and for open-minded people who would know the trend of the times, and see for
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Madam SiRAH GBiwn in 2'or<«'.'/*"i(J(«'M».

LULLABY LAND: Songs of Childhood. By Eugene Field.

Edited, with Introduction, by KENNETH GRAHAME. With 200 Illustrations by Charles

Robinson. Uncut, or gilt edges, crown Svo, 63.
" A book of exceeding sweetness and beauty. No more original and no sweeter singer of childhood ever breathed.
Mr. Eobinson's drawings are more e-xquisite, if possible, in execution, and as abounding as ever in humour and phantafy.
Any child who gets this book now will love it as long as he lives." — Daili Chronicle.

THE MAKING of a PRIG : a Novel. By Evelyn Sharp. 6s.

" The splendid portrait of the potential prig raises the book above the commonplace. The author's style has geal
merit, it is always neat, crisp, and unaffected, and shows the author's keen sense of humour. ' The ^".f'?/,, ^ ,f,
is undoubtedly a strong book, unconventional and fresh without being either overdrawn or fantastic."— PaK Mall (Hueiie,

THE TREE of LIFE : a Novel. By Netta Syeett. Crown Svo, 6s.

[Smil Kli.'ii
" The best novel of its kind that has appeared for a long time." — Academy.

DERELICTS : a Novel. By W. J. Locke. Crown Svo, 6s.

[Second Edition.
" Mr. Locke tells us his story in a very true, a very moving, and a very noKe book. If anyone can read 'Jl,'*?

chapter with dry eyes we shall be surprised. 'Derelicts* is an impressive, an important book Yvonne is a creatiu

■Da'^ "'

MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd., London.

that any artist might be proud of,'

Daily Chronicle.

READY SHORTLY.

COMEDIES and ERRORS. By Henry Habland, Author of " Grey

Roses." Crown Svo, 63.

JOHN LANE, The Bodlky Head, Vigo Street, London, W.

March 19, 1898.J THE ACADEMY: SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT. 319

[acpherson, Fellow and Professor of the
:oyal Academy of Music.

The Bohn Libraries •will receive the
)IIowing additions : The third volume of
[r. Temple Scott's edition of Swift's works,

new edition of Burton's Pilgrimage to Al-
tadinah and Meccah, and a new edition of
ohn Paj'ne Collier's Annals of the Stage to
<e Restoration. Tlie excellent " Cathedral
eries " of this firm will be continued ; and
[ereford, Lincoln, Wells, Durham, and
outhwell will be added to the published
)lumes.

ME. EDWAED AENOLD.

Rarroio School is the subject of a
imptuous work to be issued in June by
[r. Arnold. The editors will be Mr. E. W.
^owson and Mr. G. Townsend Warner;
id the volume will contain contributions by
ore than a dozen old Harrovians. These
liU deal with the origin and history of the
ihool and its buildings, and its connexion
lith the town, embodying much informa-
|m hitherto unpublished. Other subjects
leated will be : the Headmasters of the
iihool, Harrovian Statesmen, Harrovian
Jen of Letters, the Benefactions, Eeminis-
^nces of School Life in Old Days, Cricket,
])otball, and other branches of School
Siorts, School Songs and Music, and the
Scial Life of the School.
iln Mr. Arnold's " Sportsman's Library "
T! shall see The Chase, Th^ Turf, and The

ad, by " Nimrod." This edition is based

the first edition of Apperley's work, and
^ken's plates wiU be reproduced in their

ginal size.

The Letters of Mary Sibylla Holland
\1re written, we are told, "with no thought
1 1 to please, convey affection, help or con-
se, by a person gifted with sympathy,
a 1 of a nature of rare distinction."

IVIr. S. H. Eeynold's Studies on Many
Ejects has already been issued by Mr.
4nold.

CHAPMAN & HALL.

tf ESSES. Chapman & Hall's Spiing list is
riinly composed of technical works. The
t"j> standard editions, however, of Dickens
a I Carlyle which this firm is issuing will
b forwarded. Our Mutual Friend, with 40
11 strations by Mr. Marcus Stone, forming
viji. xxiii. and xxiv. of the Gadshill edition
ol he novelist's works, will be issued; and
irihe " Centenary Edition " of the works of
Cjlyle the Life of Frederick the Great wiU
b({iontinued in three new volumes. Among
th other works announced by this house we
nd) books dealing with Shoemaking,
Miers' Arithinetic, British Columbia (for
sellers), Chinese Porcelain, Physics, Miner-
al^, and — in odd contrast — "The Song
oj Solomon, illustrated by 12 full-page
cojtype plates and numerous head and
*n' pieces by H. Granville Fell.

j HUTCHINSON & CO.

I'essrs. Hutchinson give prominence to
animportant new work by the late Captain
SiiEichard F. Burton, entitled The Jew, the
C'jiy, and El Islam. This posthumous work
hai been edited, with an introduction and
brff notes, by Mr. W. H. Wilkins. It

wiU contain summaries of the history of the
Jewish race, of the gipsy and his distribution
over Europe, and of Mohammedanism, sub-
jects over which Sir Eichard Burton spent
many years of his life in collecting evidence,
&c.

Among other books to be issued by this
firm we note :

2he Modern Marriage Market. By Lady
Jeune, Marie CoreUi, the Countess of
Malmesbury, and Flora Annie Steel. This
is a discussion of the prevailing system of
arranging marriages in the world which
calls itself " society."

The Women of the Nineteenth Century.
Edited by Alfred H. Mills. Another book
of female biography. Joanna BaiUie is
selected as the first woman in order of time,
and Mathilde Blind as the last.

Mngs of the Hunting Field. By " Thor-
manby."

Memoirs of a French Sergeant. By "The
Man who Shot Nelson."

In Fiction Messrs. Hutchinson have a
varied list. Not a few of the volumes it
contains have already been issued ; but the
following have yet to appear :

Tlie Millionaires. By Frankfort Moore.

The Vicar. By Joseph Hatton.

Adrienne. By Eita.

The Admiral. By Douglas Sladen.

The Ilonouralle Peter Stirling. By Paid
Leicester Ford. This American novel has
enjoyed great popularity.

A. D. INNES & CO.

This firm announces the following publi-
cations :

Ireland, '98 to '98. By Judge O'Connor
Morris.

Through the Famine Districts of India. By
F. H, S. Merewether. Being an account,
by Eeuter's Special Correspondent, of his
experiences in travelling through the Famine
Districts of India.

Through Persia on a Side Saddle. By Ella
C. Sykes. Illustrated with numerous photo-
graphs and a map.

The Successors of Eomer. By Prof. W, C.
Lawton. This is an account of the Greek
poets who followed from Homer down to
the time of il^schylus.

Among new novels Messrs. Innes will
publish :

A Woman's Privilege. By Marguerite
Bryant.

The Island of Seven Shadows. By Eoma
White.

T/ie St. Cadix Case. By Esther Miller.

The Indiscretions of Lady Asenath. By
Basil Thomson.

The following new volumes of this firm's
Isthmian Library will be issued tliis Spring :

Rowing. By E. C. Lehmann. With
chapters by Guy NickaUs and C. M. Pitman.
Vol. IV.

Sailing Boats und Small Yachts. By E. F.

Knight.

Figure Skating. By M. S. Homer
Williams.
, ^ Ths World of Qolf By Garden Smith.

A book of travel, entitled Through the
High Pyrenees, will be issued by Messrs.
Innes in April. It will include a narrative
of two holidays in the high mountains
of the Pyrenees, written by Mr. Harold
Spender, besides a number of supplementary
lectures of a scientific and historical character
written by Mr. Llewellyn Smith. This book
will be richly illustrated with sketches and
photographs, and supplied with maps. Mr.
Spender and Mr. Smith have cUmbed all the
highest mountains in the range and traversed
the central and least-known portion, camp-
ing in the mountains.

GEANT EICHAEDS.

Mr. Grant Eichards is not afraid to
publish poetry. He announces, or has
already issued, the following books for the
Spring season :

Hernani : a Drama. By Victor Hugo.
Translated into English Verse by E. Farqu-
harson Sharp.

Hannihal : a Drama. By Louisa Shore.
With photogravure portrait of the author.

Porphyrion, and Other Poems. By Laurence
Binyon.

Versions from Hafi% : an Essay in Persian
Metre. By Walter Leaf.

In fiction Mr. Eichards promises the
following varied fare :

Tfie Wheel of God. By George Egerton.

The Cattle Man. By G. B. Burgin.

The Actor-Manager. By Leonard Merrick.

The Wooings of Jezelcl Petty fir. Being the
Personal History of Jehu Sennacherib Dyle.

The Ape, the Idiot, and Other People. By
W. C. Morrow.

The Yellow Terror. By M. P. Shiel.

Convict 99 : a True Story of Penal
Servitude. By Marie and Eobert Leighton.
With eight full-page illustrations by Stanley
L. Wood.

A Bibliography of Omar Khayyam. By
Temple Scott. With prefatory note by
Edward Clodd.

C. AETHUE PEAESON, Ltd.

Mr. Pearson began book-publishing a
little more than a year ago ; but his list is
already long and interesting. The most
considerable announcement from the point
of view of expense and enterprise is that of
an illustrated edition of The Pilgrim' s Progress.
This wUl be issued in twelve monthly parts
at the price of sixpence a part — thus aiming
at a popular sale. The feature of such an
edition must of course be its illustrations.
These, in the present instance, are from
drawings of Frederick A. Ehead and Louis
Eead, who have been engaged for the last
three years in preparing illustrations to
Buuyan's work. The drawings them-
selves have been exhibited in London,
Paris, and New York. They are in line
with occasional wash.

Mr. Pearson also announces the following
works :

With Peary IS ear the Pole. By Eivind
Astrup. Illustrated with sketches and
photographs by the author

32'

THE ACADEMY: SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SCPPLEMENT. [Marcfi lo, \m.

Seieniific Aspects of Christian Evidences.
By G. F. Wright, JD.D. This volume is
another attempt to show that science is not
in opposition to the evidences of Christianity.

Mad Humaniti). By Dr. Forbes Winslow.
In this book Dr. Winslow, the celebrated
" mad " doctor, deals largely with his per-
sonal reminiscences. Separate chapters are
devoted to insanity in relation to genius, in
relation to crime, and in relation to sex.

In fiction Mr. Pearson is making the
rather daring experiment of a series of
half-crown novels by good writers. He
announces :

Miss Betty. By Bram Stoker. This and
the next novel are already published.

Fan Wagener's Ways. By W. L. Alden.

An Egyptian Coquette. By Clive Holland.

In Male Attire. By Joseph Hatton.

An Episode in Arcady. By HalliweU
SutclifEe.

Trincohx. By Douglas Sladen.

A Romance of a Grouse Moor. By M. E.
Stevenson.

A Russian Vagabond. By Fred. Whishaw.

Tammer's Duel. By E. and H. Heron.

From Veld and Mine. By George Griffith.

The Shadow of Life. By Marten Strong.

CHATTO & WINDUS.

Most of the books in Messrs. Chatto &
Windus's list are already in the hands
of the public. Mark Twain's More Tramps
Abroad has been out more than a month,
and has been followed by the welcome news
of the author's triumph over financial diffi-
culties. Mr. Vizetelly's translation of Paris
and Mr. Harry de Windt's Through the
Ooldfkhh of Alaska to Bering Straits have
already been reviewed in our columns.
Nor must it be forgotten that Mr. Archibald
Forbes's Life of Napoleon III. is one of this
firm's recent publications.

Of novels just published, or on the eve
of publishing, Messrs. Chatto & Windus
have the following :

The Disaster. By Paul and Victor Mar-
gueritte. Translated by Frederic Lees.

A Woman Tempted Him. By William
Westall.

Miss Balmaine's Past. By B. M. Croker.

Was She Justified ? By Frank Barrett.

Colonel Thorndyke's Secret. By G. A.
Henty.

A Woman Worth Winning. By Geo.
Manville Fenn.

Fortune^s Gate. By Alan St. Aubyn.

The Heritage of Eve. By H. H. Spettigue.

J. M. DENT & CO.

Mk. Dent's announcements include an
important book of travel — With Shi and
Sledge over Spitzbergen Glaciers, by Sir
William Martin Conway. A Boole of Cats,
by Mrs. W. Chance, is already issued. Three
more volumes of Mr. Dent's dainty edition
of the Spectator will be issued, completing
the set.

The "Temple Classics" wiU receive the
following additional volumes :

Milton's Paradise Lost. Edited by W. H. D.
Eouse.

The High History of the Holy Grail.
Translated for the first time from the French

by Dr. Sebastian Evans. With frontispiece
and titles by Sir Edward Burne-Jones.
This work will be in two volumes.

The Little Flowers of St. Francis. Newly
translated from the Italian by Prof. T. W.
Arnold.

Law's Serious Call to a Derout and Holy
Life. Edited by Dr. Horton.

Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides. With
notes by Arnold Glover.

To the " Temple Dramatists " will be
added :

Greene's Tragical Reign of Selimus (already
published).

Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle,

Ben Jonson's Alchemist.

ELKIN MATHEWS.

Mr. Elkin Mathews makes the follow-
ing Spring announcements :

Some Welsh Children. By the author of
Fraternity. The cover and title-page are de-
signed by the author. Impressionist studies
of child-life in Wales — a Welsh Golden Age.

The Adventures of a Goldsmith : a Historical
Romance. By the author of The C Major of
Life, a story that touches on the famous plot
of Georges Cadoudal, a conspiracy which
occupied Napoleon's mind at the time he
had determined to seat himself on an
Imperial throne.

Indian Elegies and Love Songs. By
Manmohan Ghose. (" Shilling Garland
Series ".) No. IX. In the press.

Admirals All. By Henry Newbolt (same
series). 11th edition in the press.

Another Sheaf. With a photogravure
frontispiece. By E. T. Warwick Bond.

The Wind Among the Reeds. By W. B.
Yeats. With portrait and cover design .

ME. JOHN LANE.

Me. John Lane's Spring announcements
are not very numerous, but they are
interesting. To begin with, there is a
new novel by Miss Gertrude Atherton,
called The Californians. Mr. Le GaUienne's
The Romance of Zion Chapel is also in the
list. Mr. John Buchan has a six-shilling
novel impending, called John Burnet of
Barns. Nor are these all Mr. Lane's plums
of fiction. Those who read Father Hilar ion
will be glad to read another story by Miss
K. Douglas King, entitled The Child who
tcill Never Grow Old. Mr. H. B. Marriott
Watson's public — too long neglected —
will know him again as the author of The
Heart of Miranda. Lastly, Mr. Henrj' Har-
land will be represented by a volume entitled
Comedies and Errors.

Two plays figure in Mr. Lane's list : Mr.
Laurence Irving's Godefroi and Tolande,
already published, and Godfrida, by Mr.
John Davidson, to be issued shortly.

We are also to have the Tompkin'a Verses,
" edited " by Mr. Barry Pain. These are, of
course, gleaned from the Saturday columns
of the Daily Chronicle.

NISBET & CO.

This firm announce a number of religious
works, from which we select the following :

The Mystery of the Trtte Vine : Meditations
for a Month. By the Eev. Andrew Murray.

Science, Miracle, and Prayer. By the Eev
Chancellor Leas.

On the Resurrection Body. By the Yen
Archdeacon Hugh-Games.

The 3fessage and the Messengers: Lesson
from the History of Preaching. By the Ee\
Fleming James.

Brief Sermons for Busy Men. By th
Eev. il. F. Horton.

The King's Own: Words of Counsel I
Young Christians. By the Eev. G. A
Sowtor.

The Problems of the Booh of Job. By th
Eev. G. V. Garland.

The Elector King and Priest. By A. .'
Lamb.

Regent Square : Eighty Tears of a Londo
Congregation. By John Ffair.

HAEPEE BEOTHEES.

Messrs. Harper Brothers inform u
that they have arranged for the followin
new novels :

Behind a Mash. By Tlieo. Douglas.

Sowing the Sand. By Mrs. Florenc
Henniker.

Meg o' the Scarlet Foot. By Wm. Tin
buck.

Silence — Short Stories. By Miss M. I
Wilkins.

Robin Hood. By Barry Pain.

Flaunting Moll. By E. A. J. Walling.

The Adventurers. By Marriott Watson.

The Ltich of Parco. By John Maclair.

THACKEE & CO.

This firm is closely identified with India
it has already published Loclchart's Advm
through Tirah by Capt. L. J. Shadwel
P.S.C. (Suffolk Eegiment). Capt. Shadw«
was special correspondent in the rece:
expedition of 2'he Pioneer and the Londc
Daily Neics.

The same firm announce a volume i
Hunting Reminiscences, by Alfred E. Pea*
M.P. Mr. Pease's book is largely one (
reminiscence ; and is by no means confine
in its scope to the persecution of Eeynard-
Hare-hunting and Badger-hunting bein
duly treated. "The Greatest Eun I evi
Saw " is the subject of a chapter.

Messrs. Thacker & Co. will also issue :

Wliyte Melville's Riding Recollections sn
Inside the Bar (comiilete in 1 vol.), in
New Edition, illustrated by Mr. Hug
Thomson.

A History of China. By D. C. Boulge
This work, by the author of Chinexe Gordo:
Sir Stamford Raffles, &c., has been re-writtf
and brought up to date.

A Galaxy Girl. A new novel by M
Lincoln Springfield, dealing with Londo
theatrical and sporting life.

SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO.

This firm's Spring list contains tl
following announcements :

The Wonderful Century : its SueeessM at
its Failures. By Alfred Eussel Walkc
The object of this volume is to give a sho
descriptive sketch of all the more importo
mechanical inventions and scientific di

,ECH 19, 1898] THE ACADEMY: SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT.

331

■ies of the nineteentk century, and to
le those who have lived only in the
• half of it to realise its full significance
le history of human progress. The
:d part of the work discusses the
actual and moral failures of the

e, FoundMions of England : a History of
Did to tJie Death of Stephen. By Sir
IS Eamsay, Bart.

tdies in Zittk-knotvn Subjects. By C.
f umpire.

\-:olleetiotis of Thirty-nine Years in the
r. By Sir Charles Alexander Gordon,
|3. Including Gwalior, and the Battle
laharajpore, 1843; the Gold Coasts of
ii, 1847-8 ; the Indian Mutiny, 1857-8 ;
1,, 1860-1 ; the Siege of Paris, 1870-1.
iivork has already appeared.

Grmco-l'tirkish War, 1897. By a
ian Staff Officer. Translated by
rica Bolton.

L\L England Series. Edited hy
m D. Cotes. Life in an Old English
By M. Dormer Harris.

LAURENCE & BULLEN.

s firm's sporting publications grow in
:^e. The " Anglers' Library " is edited

r Herbert Maxwell, and volumes on
>' Fish, Sea Fish, and Pike and Perch
< ilready been issued. To these wiU be
.( :

tmon and Sea-Trout. By Eight Hon.
; srbert Maxwell, Bart., M.P.
"fd. Char, Sfc. By T. D. Croft.
)] se publishers also announce " The
ii).man's Pocket Series " of small books

hilling a volume. The first item in

ries will be Eobert Surtees' Hundley
with Leech's illustrations, in two
lies.

SAMPSON LOW.

SRB. Sampson Low are just issuing

Miniature Painters and their Works

J. Foster. This work is dedicated, by

sion, to the Queen. It will be illus-

by over 120 examples from the Eoyal

riy, Wradsor, and from the collections

S- Grace the Duchess of Devonshire,

ironess Burdett-Coutts, the Dukes

limond and Gordon, Eutland, and

urt, the Earl Spencer, &c.

second volume of The Life of Our
'ems Christ, edited by James Tissot,
•eparation. This work is also appear-
iijnonthly parts.

'hjthird volume of Mr. William Laird

w^'s work. The Royal Navy from tlie

lii Times to the Present, is nearly ready ;

a<eeond edition of Mr. Fred. T. Jane's

t< World's Fighting Skips, has been

Bkj called for, and is now in the press.

' ■ 1 nry M. Stanley's new book. Through

tea, has already been issued by this

JAMES BOWDEN.

IeIBowdbn sends us the following list

orljcoming novels :

'ait'.Carah, Cornishman. By Charles Lee.

'■'■rs. By Sidney Pickering.

■ -'t Lemur ian : a Westralian Romance,
G.i'irth Scott.

Tom Ossington's Ghost. By Richard
Marsh.

Bead Selves. By JuHa Macgruder.

At Friendly Point. By G. Firth Scott.

The Adventures of an Engineer. By
Wetherby Chessney.

The Intervention of the Duke. By L. Allen
Harker.

Mr. Bowden will publish Reminiscences
of Cricket and Sport, by Dr. W. G. Grace.
Of cricketing books there is no end just
now ; but, then, there is no end to the
demand for them. Dr. Grace's book will
be illustrated with numerous photographs.

Also, Mr. Bowden proposes to issue a
shiUing edition of White Slaves of England,
by Eobert H. Sherard, and, uniform with
the above, The Cry of the Children. This
work, by Frank Hird, gives a picture of
certain British industries in which child
labour is employed. It wiU be Ulustrated.

DUCKWOETH & CO.

Messrs. Ditckworth & Co. are the
newest firm of publishers, and their first
list contains among other announcements :

Studies in Biography. By Leslie Stephen.

Tom Tit Tot ; or, Savage Philosophy in Folk-
Tale. By Edward Clodd.

Cricket. By the Hon. E. H. Lyttelton.

Imperialism. By C. de Thierry. With an
introduction by W. E. Henley.

War and Policy on the Indian Frontier. By
Stephen Wheeler.

A History of Rugly School. By W. H. D.
Eouse.

The Saints. A new series of "Lives of
the Saints " in separate volumes, translated
from the French. The series will be edited
by the Eev. G. Tyrell, S.J., and the first
volume win be an introductory one, entitled
The Psychology of t/ie Saints, by Henri Joly.
It will be followed by one-volume bio-
graphies of St. Augustine, St. Vincent de
Paul, St. Clotilda, and others.

In fiction this firm announces :

The Unknown Sea : a Romance. By Miss
Clemence Housman.

The Fire of Life. By Charles Kennett
Burrow.

Jocelyn. By John Sinjohn.

New novels by Mrs. W. K. Clifford, and
Edward H. Cooper.

Only one poet figures in this list.
Miss Margaret Armour, whose Tliames Son-
nets and Semblances appeared last autumn,
win put forth a volume entitled The
Shadow of Love. This is described as
a lyric sequence, and, like the author's
previous volume, it will be illustrated by
Mr. W. E. Macdougall.

SEELEY & CO.

This firm's Spring List is not so character-
istically concerned with Art as is usually the
case ; indeed, three of the following works
are religious :

The Hope of Immortality. By the Rev.
J. E. C. WeUdon, Head Master of Harrow
School. This book is mainly addressed to
persons who are not theologians, though
with thouglits and feelings about religion,
who are ready to consider an argument con-
scientiously addressed to them. Technical

terms are as far as possible avoided, and
quotations from classical and foreign writers
are translated.

The Young Queen of Hearts : a Story of the
Princess Elizabeth and her Brother Henry,
Prince of Wales. By Mrs. Marshall.

Short Chapters on the Prayer Book. By
the Rev. H. C. G. Moule, D.D.

The Cross and the Spirit : Studies in the
Epistles to the Galatians. By the Rev.
H. C. G. Moule, D.D.

Brook Silvertone and The Lost Lilies. Two
Stories for Children. By Mrs. Marshall.
New edition with eight coloured illustra-
tions.

The Portfolio for April will be a mono-
graph on " Greek Bronzes" by Mr. Alexander
Stuart Murray, Keeper of the Greek and
Roman Antiquities.

• DOWNEY & CO.

Messrs Downet & Co. have this Spring
issued, in conjunction with a Boston firm, an
Ulustrated limited edition of Balzac's works.

We observe that " Downey's Sixpenny
Library " now numbers more than twenty
volumes.

The same firm will begin in the near
future the publication of a series of volumes
prepared by Moses Coit Tyler, Professor of
History in Cornell University, which wiU be
issued under the following subject-title :
A Century of American Statesmen : a Bio-
graphical Survey of American Politics from
tlie Inauguration of Jefferson to the Close of
the Nineteerith Century, ha wUl be inferred
from the title, the work, which is to be in
several volumes, is based on the idea of
affording a rapid survey of the great events
of American history during the century now
drawing to a close, by presenting in vivid
outline the lives and characteristics of the
chief statesmen who, whether for good or
for iU, have influenced American political
life since March 4, 1801. To each states-
man included in the plan wUl be
devoted a single chapter, wherein the scale
and method of the portrait wUl be some-
what like that of the same author's work in
his little book called Three Men of Letters.

Prof. Tyler has also in preparation a
volume which wiU present the Literary
History of the American Republic during the
First Half- Century of their Independence.
1783-1833. This work wiU form a continua-
tion of the volumes previously pubUshed
on the literature of the Colonial and the
Revolutionary periods.

BLISS, SANDS & CO.

A PIQUANT item in this firm's Spring list
is the following : Editing A la Mode ; or, an
Lxaminalion of Dr. George Birkbeck HalPs
Johnsonian Editions. By Percy Fitzgerald.

The foUowing novels are in Messrs. Bliss,
Sands & Co.'s list :

Mrs. de la Rue Smythe. By Riccardo
Stephens, M.B., CM.

Second Lieutenant Celia. ByL. C. Davidson.
Both these novels wiU be iUustrated.

TIte Spirit is Willing. By Percival
Pickering.

A Departure from Tradition, and Other
Stories. By Rosaline Masson.

it: I

322

THE ACADEMY : SPRING ANNOUNCEMENTS SUPPLEMENT. [Makch lo, i898.

One Cruwikd lluur. By A. Beresford
Eyley.

A Branch of Laurel. By A. B. Louis.

Jlis Fortunate Grace. By Gertrude Ather-
ton.

Tales of the Klondyhe. By T. Mullett
EUis.

This firm issues the following list of
" Books Bearing on the Present State of
Public Affairs":

Lord Cromer: a Biography. By H. D.
TraiU.

Bon Emilia Castelar. By David Hannay.

The Ameer Aldur Rahman. By Stephen
Wheeler.

The German Emperor William II. By
Charles Lowe, M.A.

A Hidory of the United States Navy from
1775 to 1893. By Edgar Stanton Maclay,
A.M.

President Cleveland. By James Lowry
Whittle.

The Right Hon. Joseph Chamberlain. By
8. H. Jeyes.

Li Hung Chung. By Professor Eobert
K. Douglas.

Housewives may add to their knowledge
by consulting Meyer's Practical Bietionary of
Cookery. This work wiU contain 1,200 tested
recipes. Most authors write to eat ; a few
eat to write !

GAY & BIRD.

Messes. Gay & Bird issue the following
list of books for the Spring :

Points of View, and Other Poems. By G.
Colmore.

Essays at Eventide. By Thos. Newbigg^ng.

In the Bays of King James ; or, Romances
of London in the Olden Time. By S. H.
Burchell.

Gondola Bays. Illustrated and written
by P. Hopkinson Smith.

The Hand of the Spoiler : a Novel of the
Time of Henry VIII. By E. H. Porster.

Street Cleaning and tlie Bisposal of a City's
Wastes. By G. E. Waring, Junr., Com-
missioner of Street Cleaning in the City of
New York.

Scotch Experiences. By Kate Douglas
Wiggin.

The Children of the Future. By N. A.
Smith (sister and joint author with K. D.
Wiggin of " The EepubUc of ChUdhood,"
&c.).

Health, Grace, and Beauty: Illustrated
Exercises for Bcveloping the Female Figure.
By Mabel Jenners.

The Juggler. By Charles Egbert Craddock.

King Arthur and the Table Round: Tales
Chiefly after the Old French of Crestien of
Troyes. With an account of Arthurian
Eomance, and Notes by William Wells
Newell. In two volumes.

What all the World's a- Seeking. By E. W.
Trine.

Tales from McClures : Romance — Adventure
— Humour — The West.

The Revenge of Lucas Helm. By Mons.
Blondel.

A Bail with Bestiny. By E T. Everett.

JOHN LONG.

Mr. John Long, formerly of Messrs.
Digby & Long, who is embarking on a
publishing business, announces a new novel
by Mr. Coulson Kemahan, entitled Trewinnot
oj Guy's. Also the following :

The Story of Lois. By Katharine S-
Macquoid.

A Bifficult Matter. By Mrs. Lovett
Cameron.

Youth at the Prow. By E. Eentoul Esler.

His Little Bill of Sale. By Ellis J.
Davis.

With Bought Swords. By Harry Towler.

The Sea of Love. By Walter Phelps
Dodge.

Nightshade and Poppies. Verses of a
Country Doctor.

TTie Classics for the Millions. By Henry
Gray.

BOOKS EECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, March 17.
THEOLOGICAL AKD BIBLICAL.

EoMiN Legends about the Apostles Paul
AND Peter. By Victor Eydberg. EUiot
Stouk.

HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.

The Story of the Palatines : an Episode
IN Colonial History. By Saudford H.
Cobb. G. P. Putnam's Sons.

Nullification and Secession in the United
States. By Edward Payson Powell. G.
P. Putnam's Sons.

Life and Letters of Thomas Kilby Smith,
1820—1887. By Walter George Smith.
G. P. Putnam's Sons. 128. 6d.

Audubon and His Journals. By Maria E.
Audubon. "With Zoological and other
Notes by Elliott Coues. John C. Nimmo.

Mirabeau. By P. F. Willert, M.A. Mac-
millan & Co.

A History of the English Poor Law. By
Sir George NichoUs. New edition, with a
Biography by H. G. Willink. P. S. King
&Co.

Sir Hudson Lowe and Napoleon. By E. C.
Seatou. David Nutt.

Ancient Classics foe English Readers : —
Cheaper Ee-issue : Thucydides, Demos-
thenes, Aristotle, Catullus, Tibullus,
AND PsoPERTlUS. Wm. Blackwood &
Sons.

The Growth and Administration of the
British Colonies, 1837—1897. By Eev.
William Parr Greswell, M.A. Blackie &
Son. 28. 6d.

poetet, ceiticism, belles LETTEES.

Modern English Prose Writers. By Prank
Preston Steams. G. P. Putnam's Sons.
128. 6d.

From Cliff and Scaur : a Collection of
Yerse. By Benjamin Sledd. G. P.
Putnam's Sons. 6s.

American Ideals, and Other Essays, Social
AND Political. By Theodore Roosevelt.
G. P. Putnam's Sons. Ss.

Another Sheaf. By E. Warwick Bond.
Elkin Mathews. 2s. Gd.

Studies on Many Subjects. By Samu
Harvey Eeynolds. With a Preface 1
George Saintsbury. Edward Amol
lOs. 6d.

Clavigo: a Tragedy. By Goethe. Tran
lated into EngUsh by Members of tl
Goethe Society. David Nutt. 3s. 6d.

Walter Gr.t;me ; or, a Home among n
Hills, and Other Poems. By Thorn
Fergusson. J. & E. Parlane (Paisley).

Temple Classics: Paradise Lost. ByJol
Milton. J. M. Dent & Co. Is. 6d.

A Dream of Paradise : A Poem. By Eok
Thomson. EUiot Stock.

Some Welsh Children. By the Author
"Fraternity." Elkin Mathews. ;3s. <i

TEAVEL AND TOPOGEAPHY.

Sport in the Highl4nd3 of ILvshmir. ]
Henry Zouch Darrah. Eowland Ward.

On Blue Water. By Edmond de Amic
Translated by Jacob B. Brown. G.
Putnam's Sons. 78. 6d.

Islanders of the Southern Seas. 1
Michael Myers Shoemaker. G. P. Putnan
Sons.

The English Angler in Florida. ]
Eowland Ward, F.Z.S. Eowland Ward.

EDUCATIONAL.

Arithmetic, with Numerous Exampli
Exercises, and Examination Papei
Arranged by A. E. Layng, M.A. Blacl
& Son. 4s. 6d.

Cambridge Historical Series : an Ess.
on Western Civilisation in its Ec
NOMic Aspects. By W. Cunninghai
D.D. Cambridge University Press.

The American College in American Ln
By Charles Franklin Thwing, D.D. G.
Putnam's Sons.

A School History of English Liteeatub
By Elizabeth Lee. Vol. II.: Shak
SPEARE TO Deyden. Blackie & Son. 1

MISCELLANEOUS.

Oriental Translation Fund : the h
semblies of Al Haeiei. Translate
with Notes, by Dr. F. Steingass. Vol. I
The Royal Asiatic Society.

Some Incidents in General Practice.^ I
Augustin Prichard. J. W. Arrowsmith.

The Bargain Theory- of Wages. By Jol
Davidson, M.A. G. P. Putnam's Sons. <

Social Facts and Forces. By Waahingtc
Gladden. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 38. 6d

The Story of Life in the Seas. By Sydm
J. Hiokson, D.Sc. George Newnes, Ltd. 1

The Library Series : Libeaey AMrunsra^
TION. By John Macfarlane. Georj
Allen. Cs.

Cassell's Family Lawyee : being > Poruu
Exposition of the Civil L.vw of Gkkj
Britain. By a Barrister-at-Law. Cassf
&Co.

Gaednee's Household Medicine and Sk'
ROOM Guide. Thirteenth edition. 1
W. H. C. Stoveley. Smith, Elder & Co.

Canada's Metals. By Prof. Roberts-Anste;
Macmillau & Co.

tARCH 19, 1898] THE A.CA.DEMtf : SPRIJ^a A^NOat^OEMENTS SUPPLEMENT.

323

P. PUTNAM'S SONS'

New and Forthooming Books.

Y THK ATJTHOK OF "THE RED REPUBLIC."

3RRAINE : a Romance.

By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS, Author of " Maker of
Sloons," iSo. Ciown 8vo, cloth, Gs. [ In a few days.

BY REV. T. K. CHEYNE.

WISH RELIGIOUS LIFE AFTER

.he EXILE. By Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, M.A., D.D.
(American Lectures on the History of Religions— Third
Scries.) 8vo, cloth, 6s. \_8hoi'tly.

Mr. EDWARD ARNOLD'S

NEW BOOKS.

NEW NOVELS.
A REFUTATION FOR A SONG

By MAUD OXENDEN, Author of " Interludes."

Crown 8vo, 6s.

Y THE AUTHOR OF "THE LEAVENWORTH

CASE."

>ST MAN'S LANE.

By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. Crown 8vo,
loth, 63. [/» preparation.

BY WALT WHITMAN.

E WOUND DRESSER : a Series of

(Letters Written from the Hospitals in Wasliington
i luring the War of the Rebellion. Edited by RICHARD
IVIAURICE BDOKE, M.D., one of Whitman's Literary
jsiecutors. With a Photogravure Portraits. Crown
ivo, cloth, 6s.

BY WASHINQTON GLADDEN,

CIAL FACTS and FORCES. The

■aclory— The Labour Union--The Corporation— The
tail way -Toe City— The Church. Crown 8vo, cloth
Is. 6d.

NEW EDITION OP WHITMAN'S POEMS,
Containing hitherto Unpublished Matter.

AVES of GRASS. Including " Sands

t Seventy," " Good Bye, My Fancy," " Old Age
khoes," and "A Backward Glance o'er Travel'd
loads." By WALT WHITMAN. Crown 8vo, cloth,
xtra, gilt top, Os.

JjPPUR ; or, Explorations and Adven

i on the Euphrates. The Narrative of the
jlniversity of Pennsylvania Expedition to Babylouia
1 the Years 1S89-90. By JOHN PQNNBTT PETERS,
h.D., D.Sc, D.D., Director of the Eii)edition. With
bout 100 Illustrations and Plans, and with new Maps
f the Euphrates Valley aud the Ruiu Sites of Biby-
)ui». 2 vols., 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 128. 6d. each.

diBROISE PARE and his TIMES,

ilO-1590. By STEPHEN PAGET. Fully Illustrated.
arge crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt top, lOs. 6d.

TIB

DUNGEONS of OLD PARIS:

oing the Story aud Romance of the most celebrated
ri«0Ds of the Monarchy aud the Revolution. By
IGHE HOPKINS. Illustrat«d. Demy 870, cloth
ttra, 78. 8d.

THE MERMAID OF INISH-UIG.

By K. W. K. EDWARDS.
Cro?ra 8vo, 3s. 6d.

HOOOER & STOUGHTON'S LIST.

SIXTH KDiriON NOW READY.

THE KING WITH TWO PACES.

By M. E. COLERIDGE.
Cloth, 68.

77"3f£S'.— " Miss Coleridge's quality is that of perfectly
ovifjinal biillianey in romautiu uaiTation. Her ntyle is at
once placid and Hpirited, full of coloui' without lieavinesa
and luxury, corret^t, rapid, adequate, with no tedious re-
search of ■ the woixl,' or preciosity. Her imag-iuation is
wonderfully vivid ; for scenes and moments, coloui", foim,
atmospheie, are all felt and conveyed in her pictures, which
ax'e not too numerous, and are never tedious."

HP ECTATO R.~'' Ahni\i^ntnQ\Q\:'

PALL MALL OAZl^TrE.-'' A work of remarkable
ability,"

iVksTMINSTER GAZEVrE.— '' One of the most
remarkable stoiies that we have read for many a day."

SATURDAY REVIE\V.-~''lt stands prominently for-
wai-d as one of the best historical novels of the yeai"."

THE KING WITH TWO FACES.

COUNT GLBICHEN'S IMPORTANT WORK ON
ABYSSINIA.

WITH THE BRITISH
MISSION TO MENELIK, 1897.

By OOaNT GLEICHEN.

Captain Grenadier Gaai'ds, Intellij^ence Officer

to ttie Mi»sLon.

With. Qomerous Illustrations by the Author and a Map.

Demy 8vo, 16$.

y/if ^5.— " Count Gleichen has produced a book which
deserves to be read by every one who cares for good tales of
tni\el, for the recoi'd of a consideiiible English achievement,
and for a first-hand account of an almost unknown and verj'
interesting country,"

DAILr CHRONICLE.— ''\ thoroughly entoi-taining
book. Count Uleichen's book will be read Dy all who aiv
interested in the graiter attairs of the British Empire and the
world."

PALL MALL GAZETTE.- ''To predict that the flash-
light photogniph of Abyssinia produced by Count Gleichen's
instructive text and hvely sketches will be ae popular a« it
desen'es is not faint piuise."

MANCHESTER GUARDIAN.^** i'vXl of humoi-ous
incident and picturesque description."

ROBERT BURNS AND

MRS. DUNLOP.

Correspondence now Pitbiishcd in Full for the First

Titnej with Elucidations.

By WILLIAM WALLACE.

With Portrait of Mrs. Dunlop and Facsimiles.

Crown 8vo, cloth, Gs. [_March 21,

The correspondeQce betweea Burua aud Mrs. Duulop was one of the
most importaat of hia life, Uithtirco the lady's repre^eutattves have
prevented the publicatiuu of mauy of Burus'b lettors to Mrs. Duulop,
at.dof all her letters to liira. Ttie coUcution has beeu goue over uau
carefully editeil by Mr. William VVallace, the well-kuowu editor of the
uew issue of (Jhambem's '* Buru8,"aDd perhaps the chief authority ou
the subject. Mauy poems are reprinted with uew rea'liugs from Burue's
manuscripts Bt;ut to Mrs. I>ua)op. The book will he fouud of iaterest,
aud probably it wilt be the last substimtial cjutributioa to our kaow-
lodge of iSurnH.

Fcao. 8vo, cloth, price 3d. 6d.

COMPANIONS OF THE

SORROWFUL WAY.

By the Rev. JOHN WATSON, D.D. (Ciir Maclaekn).
[/» afeio days.

Crown 8vo, cloth, 78. fld.

THE SECOND VOLUME OF

THE BOOK UF THE

TWELVE PROPHETS,

COMMONLY CALLED THE MINOR.
Containing : Zephaniab, Nahum, Habakkuk, Obadiali,
Haggai, Zecnariah l.-Vlll., "Malaotii,'" Joel, "Zecliaiiah"
IX.-XIV., and Jonah.

With Historical and Critical Introductions.

By GEORGE ADAM SMITH, D.D., LL.D.,

Professor of Hebrew and Old Testameut Exegusis, Frea Churuh

College, Ulasgow.

COMPLETING THE

EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE.

In Forty-nine Volumes,
Kdited by the Rev. W. ROBERTSON NICOLL. M.A., LL.D.
A complete List of tlie Volumes in tht Exp tsitjr's Bible

wilt be forwxrded post fres on application.

" In his two volumes ou Isaiah aud that prccediug tht: preseutoue of

the t'rophets, l^rofessor Smith gave abuaUaut evideuco both of hiB

Hebrew scholarship aud his capacity as au expositor oi Scripture

and he has uow put us uuder tresh obliicatious by publisuiug this
volume, which lu uo respects falls iiehiud itspredecessurd."— d'cu{«»uiH

Tl CENTRAL ITALIAN PAINTERS

■ the RENAISSANCE. Hy BERNBARD UERENSO.N,
uthor of " Venetian Painters," "Florentine Painters,"
0. Fcap. 8vo, cloth extra. Is. 6d.

BLUE WATER. By Edmondo

E AMICia, Author of " Coubtantiuopio," " Holland

id its Pooiilc," &c. Translated from the Italian by

1!. BROWN. Illustrated. 8vo, cloth extra, 7b. 8d.

i'W' CATALOGUE FREE ON APPLICATION.

-', liKuroiM) Strkkt, SruANo, LONDON;

, Ai(i> iJEW YoUK.

SECOND EDITION NOW KEADif.

MANY MEMORIES OF MANY
PEOPLE.

liy Mrs. M. C. SIMPSON (nee Nassau-Seniob).
1 vol., demy avo, 16s.

STANDARD. - '• Mi-s. Simpson's work should appeal with
success to a wide circle of i-eaUers. It is charminifly written
and pk'a.sant to i-ead."

DAILY NEiVH.—" A delightful volume."

A THEN^^UM. — " Mm. Simpson has something interesting
to say about nearly everj' woman of note in the middle portion
of the century. The whole book is good readiug."

UUARDl AN.— "This is a delightful book. A long suc-
cession of familiar names ttit acixiss Min. 8imi)aon'8 pages, aud
she has something interesting or amusing to tell us about all
of them."

MA.SCHBSTEU a UAHDIAN.—'- There is not a dull
iwgc iu it from Hi-st to last, and the present genei-ation wdi
nave no e-\ciLse for ignorance of alt that was best and most
brdliant in the society of the middle of this century as long a.s
a cojjy of * Many Memories * remains accessible."

STUDIES ON MANY SUBJECTS.

By S. H. RKYNOLDS.
1 vol., demy Svo, 10s. 6d.

Luuilou : EDWARD ARNOLD, 37, Bedford Street.

THE

BY TUE SAMJi AUTHOR.

BOOK of ISAIAH.

In Two

Volumes, crowu Svo, 78. 61. eacli. Vol. I.— Chapters I. to XXXIX.

Vol. 11.— (Jhiptera XL. to LXV 1.
•*A work of no ordiuary merit; iudeeil, it is but rare that eucli
t-xegetical power aud mature soUolaiship are uuited witn au ease of
style aud a fertility of moderu illustratiou thit ie^ive but little to
desire. "—A'peaArtJ r.

THE HISTORICAL GEOGRAPHY of

the HOLY LAND. With Si.\ specially prepared Slaps. Fifth

Edition. Eighth Thousaud, vvo, cloth, I5i. With Additions,

Corrections, and New Index of Scripture itefereuces.

"A Very uotoworthy ooutributiou to the Btud>' of sacred hiritory.

kised uiion the three iudispeu sable couditious of psraouul au-

((uaiiitauoe with the laud, a study of the explorations, discjveiiea, aud

avciphenneots aud the empioymeut ot the results ot liibliuil

c n tie isui."— '/'(»«;«.

ST. PAUL the TRAVELLER and the

ItOMAN CITIZEN, lly W. M. UAMSA V, L.C.L, LLI>., Trofessor

iuAberdeeu University. Third Editiou, with f4ew i'reface. Svo,

cloth, with Map, H'i. SJ.

*'i*rofessor Kaiubay brings not only his own grett experieuce as a

traveller and archx^logiBt, imt the resources of au ingeuious miud aud

a lively style. The bouk is, like everything i'rofessor Kamsay does,

extraordiuarily alive. It suowa everywhere personal learuiug, per-

iMua.1 impression ; it has the sharp toueh of the traveller aud the vya-

witness."— 7*1 »i«J*.

BY THE SAME AUTilOlt.

THE CHURCH in the ROMAN EM-

I'IRE. Fifth Edition, with Mapsand Illustrations. Svo, cloth, 128.
"This volume is tlio most important contribution to the study of
early Churcu hisiory which has been p ibIiBhe<t in this country smce
the great work of Uishop Liglitfojt on the Apostolic Fathers. It Is,
too, unless our lueinoiy fails us, without a rival iu any foreigu
couutry."— o«.irataii.

THE PLACE of CHRIST m MODERN

THEOLOGY. ISy A. M. FAIRBAIRN, D.D., Principal ot
Mau>tii;ld College. Oxtord. Sixth Eiliti"U. Svo. eloth, li's.
" Ills work is, viiiliout doubt, oue ot the most valuable and com
preheusive coutributlous to thuoli^ ttmt has been made Uu ring this
geueratiou.'— A7>t!C(«(ur.

SOME LESSONS of the REVISED

VEItSUJN of the NEW TESTAME.nT. By (he lligUt Kev

BKUUKK FU.S.-3 WESTCOTT, D.lt., Lord Bishop ol iJurhaui.

Tliirxl Editiou. Crown Svo, cloth, 58.

"The work is marked on every page by the sime symiMthtitic aud

scholarly insight to which we aie aooustoine*i Ju Ur. Wuviott s gieat

Ciiuuiientaries Auyihiug whltU Dr. Westcott lia^i to wty ueeiiv uo

recoinmemlatiou to secure It a wide aud resiiecHul heaiiug. Tb«
present work should be, in the immediat*; ertects ui lU luHuencr, aa
iiuporuut as any that has apin-artnl from him."— t»wii<((irt**.

THE IDEAL LIFE, and other Un-

publuihed Addresses. By HEMtY DKUMMUM>. AVith In-
troiluctory SketcQes by \V. JtOBKKTSUN MCoLL aud IAN
MACL.VKEN. Thirteenth Tliousaud. frown Svo. buckram, 64.
" Thvse addresses are written ni a siugularly beautiiui style, ami

ojiitaiu much l>eautlful thiuking, showing th-it the writer had

pondered deeply on some of the most spiritual aspects of religion.

They will, we are sure, be muoh prized by the many a«lmiren of their

author."— t^lasctnp ilerald.

London: HODDER & STOUGHTON,
27, Tateruvstcr Row, £.C.

32 1

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" LATTER-DAY STORIES." Oown 8vo, cloth, with Portrait, 2s. 6d. euc

VOLUME I.

MISS BETTY. By Bbam Stoicer, Author

"Dracula."
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" Many wiU consider this the strongest story the author has yet written.

HeoUmai

VOLUME II.

VAN WAGENER'S WAYS. By W. L. Aldi

Author of " His Daughter," ikc.
" Mr. Alden's humour is permanent. It is not made for the niomeut.
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A'( ILUME III. Rcadv April 1.

AN EGYPTIAN COQUETTE. By Clivk Holla;

Author of "My Jai>anese Wife," &;c.

COMPLETE CATALOGUE will he sent mi receipt of Post Card to
"Book Department."

HARPER & BROTHERS, LONDON AND NEW YORK.

Loudon : C. ARTHUR PEARSON LIMITED, Heuriett Street,

Makch 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

323

SATURDAY, MARCH 19, 1898.

No. 1350, New Seriet.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

^OUNT ALBERT DE MUN'S formal
J reception into the French Academy,
Thursday of last week, made an unusually
lliant occasion. The Papal Nuncio was
jsent, and so was a Russian grand duke
i the Russian Ambassador. M. Jules
luon supplied the new Academician with
I inspiriting theme; and he himself was the
spject of an oration from Count d'Haus-
ville.

The mind of the Count de Mun is written
largely across the sketch of Breton life in
Mr. Bodley's book on " France." No better
guide could the English writer have had ;
for all doors, including those of the convent
cells, were open to the intrepid defender of
religion in the Chamber of Deputies. A
Royalist by tradition, and by family con-
nexion an aristocrat, he yet accepted the
new order, when Leo XIII. expressed the
wish that internal divisions should cease, and
that all Frenchmen should unite under the
Republic. Particularly cordial, therefore,
was his reception last spring in Rome,
when his hotel was besieged each afternoon
by all that was fair among the Papalini, and
where his fine military figure in the streets
recalled to old inhabitants that of his grand-
father, who was the Ambassador of France
there when this century was young.

Mr. Cobban has been more or less engaged
for about three years, and which treats of
Montrose's youth and his connexion with
the Covenant, will be published in the
autumn by Messrs. Methuen.

Che great-grandson of Helvetius, Count
^jert de Mun is also a nephew of Mrs.
iilgustus Craven, and has, therefore, like
s^many modem Frenchmen, close alliances
h England. Her best known book, Le
fit d'une 8<xur, has passed through forty
mch editions, and has been crowned by
Academy itself ; so that, in a sense, the
ct may be said to have done homage to
mother before they received the son.
England The Sister^s Story, as translated
Miss Emily Bowles, has made a large
cj:le of friends, some of them in unexpected
qlirters. Sir Mountstuart Grant Duif, for
ii|tance, has exhausted the vocabulary of
a niration in speaking of this record of the
f (jiinating de la Ferronnays girls,one of whom
bjame Mme. de Mun; another — Olga — died
lEher maidenly teens ; while Pauline hor-
se', after her marriage with Mr. Augustus
Uven, told the "story " with a tenderness
oi sentiment hardly to be met with in
Etland, the supposed favoured land of the
fajiily and the home. Other literary works
W;e hers, including a life of her friend,
Ljly Georgiana Fullorton, Earl Granville's
8i|3r, and a writer of novels much admired
bijMr. Gladstone in their now distant day.
C«nt Albert de Mun is his aunt's literary
esjutor; and there is always a sort of
uijerstood promise of a biography of her
frto his hand.

The death of Aubrey Beardsley at the age
of 24, at Mentone, is sad, but not unexpected.
The present writer met him first soon after
he had given up his work in the Guardian Fire
Office. He came into the room — -a frail,
slight figure, with pale, luminous face, and
a manner volatile and enthusiastic — -with a
portfolio of drawings under his arm. One
inclines to think that first harvest of his
perverse, corrupt genius represented his best
work. Two or three of us bought specimens
there and then, and one of the results of that
evening was his introduction to The Studio,
which was in the throes of its first number.
Mr. Pennell was asked to write the article,
and it was Tfie Studio that gave him his
first acknowledgment.

He did interesting work for the Pall Mall
Budget, illustrating the Lyceum production
of " Becket " in his own weird way — a way,
let it be said, that never was and never
could be popular. Later he drew for the
Yellow Book — in fact, he was the Yellow
Book — and when he ceased to draw for that
interesting quarterly, it died gallantly, but
surely. Aubrey Beardsley's imitators were
many, but none possessed his strong, virile
Une, or his grotesque and fantastic imagina-
tion. His recognition was swift and com-
plete within its own bounds ; he was
appreciated from the first by a small
enthusiastic circle. He had a new thing to
say, he said it with a wonderful dexterity,
for he had precocious power over his
material from the first. And he died at 24.
A career, indeed !

Now that the " regulation " length of
the novel has become so abridged, is it
to become a fashion with writers who
find the " regulation " lengtli not long
enough to revive the three - volume form
in a new guise? M. Zola has just pub-
lished the third part of his trilogy,
' ' Lourdes — Rome — Paris " ; an eminent
novelist recently issued a volume, which,
though "complete in itself" (to use a
publishing phrase), is expected to form the
first part of a trilogy ; and now we hear of
a third triological arrangement. Mr. Mac-
laren Cobban has planned a kind of epical
trilogy on the subject of the Marquis of
Montrose — " The Great Marquis." The
first part, " complete in itself," upon which

J. K. HuYSMANs' new novel, The Cathedral,
of which the French edition was reviewed in
our issue of February 19, has now been
published by Messrs. Kegan Paul & Co. in
an English translation from the pen of Miss
Clara Bell. Ill-health prevented Mr. C.
Kegan Paul from continuing the work of
translation begun by him in Eii Route, but
he contributes a prefatory note which may
deter some Protestant readers from the
book. Here is an example of the tone of
the preface (Mr. Kegan Paul, by the by,
was not always a Catholic) : " The general
view of the matter may be summed up in
the words of the hotel-keeper in a Bur-
gundian town : ' Ah, sir, I hope you are
not a Protestant ; there are only three Pro-
testants in this town, and they are all persons
of indifferent lives.' "

Mr. R. Maynard Leonard writes : "You
quote with approval the article on " Dogs
in Poetry " contributed by the Rev. J.
Hudson to the current issue of The West-
minster Review. Will you allow me to say
that almost every page of the article bears
evidence that this gentleman has consulted
the volume on The Dog in British Poetry,
edited by me for Mr. Nutt, and has assimi-
lated the notes in a manner that excites my
admiration. I write this as Mr. Hudson
has omitted to acknowledge his indebted-
ness to my work in the slightest form. One
thing, however, is Mr. Hudson's own con-
tribution to the subject— the suggestion
that Mrs. Browning in her poem on Flush
(Mr. Hudson prints Plush) had vivisection
in mind, teste :

" Whiskered cats anointed flee,
Sturdy stoppers keep from thee
Cologne distillations ! "

The proposal to issue a Robert Louis
Stevenson " Reader " for use in schools has
been approved by the family of the author.
Mr. Lloyd Osborne will make the selection,
and the volume will be issued by Messrs.
Chatto & Windus.

Mr. W. E. Henley has almost completed
the MS. of his annotations to the second
volume (second in order of publication)
of his edition of Byron. It contains the
first instalment of the Poems : that is to
say, " Hours of Idleness," " English Bards
and Scotch Reviewers," and Cantos 1 and
2 of "Childe Harold." The volume will
be ready in April.

It may save trouble to the bibliographer
of Mr. W. E. Henley's works, if we point
out a slight inaccuracy in the preface to his
Poems. Mr. Henley states there that
the " Hospital Sketches " which he reprints
in his new volume were contributed to
" Voluntaries for an East Loudon Hospital "

326

THE ACADEMY.

[March 9, 1898

(David Stott) and published in 1888.
Whereas the volume was actually published
in July, 1887, and bears the date of 1887 on
the title-page. It is now quite out of print,
and copies are rarely met with.

We are glad to hear that Mr. F. C.
Burnand, the editor of Punch, is recovering
from the sharp attack of illness which has
confined him to his house at Eamsgate.
Mr. Burnand expects to be at work again
shortly.

M. Leo:^ DAunET has begun in the Revue
de Park the biography of his father, the
late Alphonse Daudet. The first instalment
has many interesting things in it. He
never, says his son, became callous or rigid
minded. Even in his last years he retained
his flexibility and impressionableness. He
gave of his nature very readily. No one
coming with a tale of distress was turned
away. Although Daudet was not to be
imposed upon, yet he could forgive even
fraud. The fact that a man was driven to
lie was in itself pitiable to him, and he
pitied accordingly. His eye saw everything
and his memory retained everything. Once
he met in after life a schoolfellow whom he
had not seen for thirty years. " Have you
still that little red mark on your thumb-
nail?" he asked. M. Leon Daudet has
begun well ; his biography, if it continues
as it starts, should make a fascinating book.

In the following passage we gather the
effects of the Franco - Gennan War on
Daudet's mind :

" The war of 1870 was a revelation to Alphonse
Daudet. It made a man of him. He said that
one night, as he was in the snow on outpost
duty, he had his first attack of pains in the body,
and fits of remorse for his indolence that let him
write light verse or glib prose without a thought
of a serious or a durable task. He respected
display. A regimental band intoxicated him.
The title of officer was a passport to his house
and his heart. One of the few questions on
which he was never open to compromise was
that of patriotism. The Terrible Year, in his
mind, was a date that marked not only his own
change, but a change in the nation, its customs,
its prejudices, its culture. I think no father
loved his sons more, but he wotdd have given us
both for the sake of the flag without the
slightest hesitation. I asked him why he did
not write an account of his impressions of 1870.
He shook his head : ' Such an account would not
ennoble sotOs. A warlike country like France
requires that victory should be heralded to it.' "

In his Literary London Mr. AV. P. Eyan
endeavours to make a book do the work of
the newspaper. It is a collection of sketches
and skits on some writers of the moment, so
ephemeral in its nature that already many
passages are out of date. Mr. Eyan is
quick and fearless, but he has very little to
Bay. There is always room for a literary
satirist, but such work shoidd be well con-
sidered and as good as it can be, not a
ricliauffi of hasty newspaper articles. Mr.
Ryan might with advantage take the
finish of the Rejected Addresses as an ideal.
He has a rapid eye for absurdities and a
fund of audacity. Some of Mr. Eyau's titles

will show his scope : " The Flight from the
Caineyard," " The New Doom of Narcissus
(sometimes styled Eichard)," "Authors I
Cannot Take Seriously," "The Great Macleod
Mystery," " A Lunar Elopement : the Key to
Allen Gaunt's Defection." Hardly a writer
of poetry or fiction now at all in the public
eye, excepting always those of the first rank,
escapes Mr. Eyan's notice. Some of them,
it is true, may be undesirable — we agree
with Mr. Eyan cordially in many of his
opinions — but it is questionable if they
should be served up in this manner.

SYNCHRONorsLY with Literary London
comes Literary Landmarks of Glasgow, by
Mr. James A. Kilpatrick. Mr. Kilpatrick is
the antithesis of Mr. Eyan : he chronicles
genially and modestly, and is out of love
with no one. His pages are a panorama of
literary men who have association with the
Scotch city : Bums and Campbell, Carlyle
and Christopher North, Smollett and Tanna-
hill, Edmund Kean and Edward Irving,
Adam Smith and Scott ; Mr. Barrie and
Bret Harte ; Mr. William Black and Mr.
Buchanan. Mr. Black was born in Glasgow.
"I am sorry," he writes to the author, "I
cannot give you the number in the Trongate,
but certain I am I was not bom ' in the top
flat.' That would have been altogether too
poetic." Afterwards he studied at the Art
School in the city, but "I was a complete
failure, so qualified myself for a time in
after life as an art critic."

We meet also with a Glaswegian named
Andrew Park, a song-writer and a feUow of
great assurance, who used to rail in no
measured terms at the mention of a new
poem of Tennyson. " Tennyson ! " he
would exclaim. "Pshaw! I could reel off
Tennyson by the yard." It was noticeable,
however, that he never did.

Some weeks ago we printed a criticism
on the work of the Italian poet Signer
Arturo Graf, in which his achievement was
highly praised. Mr. E. McLintock now
writes to say that he was led thereby to
buy Signer Graf's new volume. La Danaida,
and he sends us English renderings of two
of the sonnets. Here is one — " Girls
Dancing " :

" On flowery turf that high woods girdle roimd
With leafy rustle and shadows dark and dim,
Lo ! maidens dancing — young, short-trussed,

and slim,
And each fair brow with bright-leaved laurel

crowned.

They dance to rhythm of some quaint old-
world hymn ;

Their soft feet barely press the enamelled
ground ;

Zephyr and sun make free with golden hair
unbound,

And play on bosom white and twinkling
hmb —

Bosoms untouched else — child-Uke, pleasure-
fraught.
As parted lips and blush-rose cheeks declare,
And lighted eyes, serenely void of thought.
And holy light pervades the spacious air
That sea and moimtain breathe, and, un-

besought,
The shady grove makes music, sweet and
rare."

Mr. Fisher Unwin sends us the following
note : " Mr. Chamberlain has been reading
ILigh Wynne, a novel which, in his con-
stituency, has created something like a
furore. It should gratify Mr. Fisher Unwin,
the publisher, and Dr. Weir Mitchell, the
author, to know that Mr. Chamberlain
agrees entirely in the high praise given to
it by the Birmingham press. In his opinion
it is a remarkable study of character and
history."

A letter from Lewis Carroll to a child in i
America contains a reference of his own to
the Snark's significance, on which wo have
already collected some opinions : "As to
the meaning of the Snark ? I'm very much
afraid I didn't mean anything but nonsense I
Still, you know, words moan more than we
mean to express when we use them : so a
whole book ought to mean a great deal
more than the writer meant. So, whatever
good meanings are in the book, I'm very
glad to accept as the meaning of the book.
The best that I've seen is by a hidy (she
published it in a letter to a newspaper)—
that the whole book is an allegory on the
search after happiness. I think this fits
in beautifully in many ways — i^articularly
about the bathing machines : when the
people get weary of life, and can't find
hapjiiness in town or in books, then they
rush off to the seaside, to see what bathing-
machines wiU do for them."

The New York Critic gives an amusing
account of the realistic methods resorted to
by book agents in America :

' ' A Yale College professor in his study, hear-
ing his doorbell ring two or three times, un-
answered, finally went to the door himself. On
the steps outside he found a man doubled up
and convulsed and collapsed in a fit of laughter,
who at sight of the Professor made a great
effort to regain his composure, and speak, hut
' in vain. Finally, after waiting awhile, the
i Professor demanded, ' What ails you r ' To
I whom, at length, the man, though gasping for
breath, and able to get out only a word or two
at a time, replied : ' Mark Twain's new hook '.
— I'm selling it — waiting for — your door to
open — I just took a look iuto it — myself—
and oh ! oh ! ' — and off he went into another
paroxysm. Whether or not on this proof of its
quality the Professor bought the book, the
story does not tell. But when the canvasser
left, he followed him stealthily, and, to his
intense amusement, saw him go through the
same performance at the next house where he
called."

The device is, we suppose, capable of
variation. With a pathetic book the sobbing
agent would deluge the doorstep with tears.

Concerning the private letters of M.
Zola to Mr. George Moore, which the
Chronicle discovered for sale in a second-
hand bookseller's, Mr. Moore has written
to the editor of our contemporary :

" That I did not sell the letters, and that they
are being offered for sale without my authorisa-
tion, goes without saying. When I return to
London I shall ask the bookseller (whose name
you wUl give me) to explain how he came into
possession of these letters. At present I can
only say that I remember having been asked
for M. Zola's autograph, by whom I cannot
say ; I vaguely remember having given away

Maboh 19, 1898.]

THL ACADEMY.

327

letter, remarkmg that it would be more in-
resting than a bare signature. To do such a
ing may seem scandalous to you ; you are
lidently a severe moralist, but I hope that
jere are some who will find my conduct ex-
I sable. . . . M. Zola is more careful with his
'ipers than I am with mine, but should he lose
1 have stolen from him a packet of my letters,
lid should I afterwards hpar of these letters

ing offered for sale, I should not feel angry

even aggrieved."

Apeopos of the Daily Chronicle, we find in an
teresting little pamphlet, entitled The Local
■ess of London, by Mr. Walter Wellsman,
0 following story of its rise. A well-
lown printer in Clerkenwell being often
clled upon to print "Wanted" bills, and
'Lost " bills, and notices generally, started
fl small demy sheet, four pages, called the
vrkenwell News. At first it was entirely
svertisements. Time passed on, little bits
a news were put in the paper, which was
Lbbshed twice a week at a halfpenny.
I ter on it was published three times a week,
c imately coming out as a jjenny daily, with,
[ jbably, five out of its eight pages full of
'.Vants," and other interesting local adver-
b aments. The paper blossomed into a full-
2)wn daily under the title of the London
lily Chronicle, and my firm had the pleasure
jlseUing it to Mr. Edward Lloyd. It is now
;]i Daily Chronicle, one of the greatest and,
p ibably, one of the most successful of all
Lladon dailies."

The little organ of the English and
leritan art students in Paris, The Quartier
in, prints this month the following neat
train by Mr. William Francis Barnard :

" Art.

tree of life had grown through time untold,

nd branch and leaf had each fulfilled its part ;

C; re came a perfect spring with sun of gold —

he tree burst forth in bloom ; and that was

Art."

SIXPENNY copy of The Deemster, one of
M Hall Caine's best stories, has been sent

us by Messrs. Chatto & Windus. A
;1 ice at the last page arouses in our mind

fugitive thought: Do all Mr. Caine's
)clcs end on the word "Amen"? The
-u lor, with gladness in his eyes, greets us
'B he cover.

coREEspoxDENT — C. S. F. — writes in
o: lexion with our paragraph last week on
J«n Farrar's wealth of quotation : "I
ttided — stood through — Dean, then
M'deacon, Farrar's Bampton Lectures at
^Xi)rd some twelve years ago. In the first
B<4ire I was gratified to notice that all the
■■ iitions which I recognised to be such

feji also found in the lecturer's little book
reek Syntax— a, thrifty prodigality

]

ieii
en

>it
oidke

giving "Dear Heart" as the title of
Breton's forthcoming story we were
y of a slip. His title is 2'rue Heart ;
I Pmsayes in the Life of Eherhard Treu-

Scholar and Craftsman, telling of his
lerinys and Adventures, his Intercourse
People of Consequence to their Aye, and

came Scat/teless throuyh a 'Time of Strife.

It is odd that so good a title as True Heoirt
should be available at this late stage.

Only a few days after Mr. J. G. Frazer's
gigantic edition of Pausanias comes also
from Messrs. MacmiUan Mrs. J. G. Frazer's
Scenes of Child Life in Colloquial French,
one of the most alluring stepping-stones to
a knowledge of the French language that
we have seen. Mrs. Frazer becomes the
entertaining historian of a little naughty
French child, whose wilfulness and adven-
tures are told in easy dialogue form, illus-
trated by Mr. H. M. Brock. In the course
of her preface Mrs. Frazer says : " This age
is the golden age of childhood everywhere,
but more so in France than anywhere else.
The child has been enthroned by two of
our greatest writers. With Eousseau and
the fall of Monarchism Sa Majeste BiU
became a power. With Victor Hugo he
has become an idol." Parents wishing to
teach French attractively could hardly have
a better ally than Mrs. Frazer.

If Mr. J. M. Dent is susceptible to flattery,
he should wear a pleased smile when he
takes in his hand the first volume of the
" Library of Devotion," which Messrs.
Methuen are beginning to issue. It is a
very attractive little book — The Con-
fessions of St. Augustine, edited by Dr. Bigg
— but it is impossible to believe it woiild
wear quite such an air had Mr. Dent's
" Temple Classics " never appeared.

Mr. David Christie Mitreay, who was
the prime mover in the scheme for sending
an appeal on behalf of M. Zola to the
French Government, has written to explain
its withdrawal. " The promoters," he says,
"of the movement have been persuaded
that, in the present sensitive condition of the
national mind in France, their intended
appeal might rather harm than aid the
object of their sympathy. . . . Mr.
Max O'EeU, who may be supposed to know
his countrymen, is of opinion that our volun-
tary self-effacement would have a more
favourable effect upon French feeling than
our perseverance. Hundreds of prominent
Englishmen share that belief. We efface
ourselves, therefore, not because of any lack
of numbers or of influence, but in loyalty to
the cause we have at heart. One of the
purposes we had in mind was to disabuse the
French Press of the idea that EngHsh feel-
ing is inimical to France. In retiring, we
may at least be allowed to reiterate that
truth."

Mr. Arthur Gilman, were given no hearing.
Mr. Gilman, however, was attacked from
all sides. This being so, says our corres-
pondent, it was unfair on our part to make
the comment, as we did a few weeks ago,
that any attack on Stevenson's attitude
should have been made at the time, during
his life. Had we known then what we
now learn we should not have said that ;
but, all the same, we see no advantage in
re-opening the question now. There is no
need to belong to a Stevensonian conspiracy
to come to such a decision.

A Boston publishing firm has made
known the fact that of 543 MSS. which
it received in the past year 212 were fiction,
and 69 poetry. Out of this statement a
controversy has risen. One journal main-
tains that such a proportion of poetry to
fiction is a respectable one ; another thinks
that sixty-nine poetical MSS. in more than
500 are a poor show, indicating that poetry
has come to be looked upon as a mere
" minor ramification of literature instead
of one of its chief fundaments." But a
third journal justly points out that the
arithmetical comparison is not a fair one.
Prose requires more space than poetry, and
the complete works of almost any poet
might be packed into one volume. Poetry,
the most difficult of all forms of writing, is
gaily selected by beginners as the first field
for their conquering pen. Fortunately
thousands of these writers never get further ;
they perish like flies stuck in treacle.

We may remind our readers that Messrs.
Smith, Elder & Co. have their biographical
edition of Thackeray's complete works in
active preparation. This edition wiU com-
prise additional material and hitherto un-
published letters, sketches, and drawings.
Thackeray's desire that no biography of
him should be written has always been
respected by his literary executors, but the
present edition is not styled " biographical "
without cause. The works wiU be airanged
as far as possible in chronological order,
and memoirs, forming Introductions to
each volume, have been written by the
novelist's surviving daughter, Mrs. Rich-
mond Eitchie.

On the presumption that " the Academy
is not in the Stevensonian conspiracy," a
correspondent in Boston, U.S.A., favours ua
with a long, long letterconceming Stevenson's '
famous open letter to Dr. Hyde of Honolulu
on the subject of Father Damien. Our ,
correspondent's contention is, that Dr. Hyde
was as good a man as Stevenson, if not a
better, and that Father Damien was not
what Stevenson believed him to be. Further-
more, he states that at the time of the
appearance, of Stevenson's open letter he
and others wrote to the papers in vindication
of Dr. Hyde, but, with the exception of

A story of a scholar who has seen
better days is told by the Birmingham Post.
An inmate of a workhouse, out on leave,
called at a bookseller's and propounded the
following question : " Our chaplain last
Sunday spoke of the mother of Achilles
dipping him in the river Lethe. Now, if
my memory does not fail me, the chaplain
was wrong, for it was not the Lethe, but
the Styx into which Achilles was dipped,
making all but the heel of him invulner-
able." The bookseller corroborated his
visitor's suspicion, and sent him away in the
best of spirits.

Tuere is an excellent portrait of Mr.
George Gissing, by Mr. WiU Eothenstein,
in the new number of English Portraits
(Gbant Eichards). Meanwhile we observe
that in an American review Mr. Gissing is
styled the " Good Gray Novelist," which, as
a descriptive epithet, might endure.

328

THE ACADEMY.

[March 19, 1898,

TO ENGLAND.

Englai»t>, that barest me, whose limbs are

of thine earth !
Suckled'st me with thine air, milk of heroic

worth!
What is this thing I hear? What is this

thing they tell ?
That save the sallow-visaged gold, thou

lovest nothing well :
If thy first-bom, Eenown, cry: "Mother,

help, I bleed ! "
Thou falterest thrifty saws of counsel, fear,

and heed ;
That thou hast put from thee Honour, thy

plumed spouse.
To whom in armed steel thou took'st the

glancing vows ;
Wisdom nor wrath can strip thy sword

against the strong,
And what once stirred thy blood, now

stirreth but thy tongue.
Only thou summonest heart when merchants

cry to thee,
And plainly teU'st thy foes — they act un-
civilly.
Say that the tale is false, a lie as deep as

hell !
How is it not much more than false —

impossible ?

0 England, 0 my mother. Lady of the Earth,

1 thank thee for thy breasts, and thank thee
for my birth !

The coward bom of thee lacks courage to be

cowed.
For thou art proud, and mak'st thy children

to be proud.
And with thy great approach, whose steps

are called Creci,
Poictiers, Azincour, Seringapatam, Delhi,
Trafalgar, Waterloo — each an heroic sound —
Thy halo has prevailed to the earth's utmost

bound ;
And as beneath the tread o' the sun red

blossoms rise,
Whereso thy foot was set it printed victories.
All things thy hand has wrought to which

thy hand was put ;
In every clime and soil thy flag has stricken

root,
The bannered stars behold thy flickering

banners stand ;
The leashes of the earth are gathered in thy
- hand.

Babylon did not know the regions thou dost

tame,
Ears that were deaf to Eome are deafened

with thy name.
Magnificent is thy state, and august is thy

rule, ''

Thy hand is on the East, thou sett'st the

West to school ;
Thine awe is in their heart, thy law is in

their sold,

AIL of thy ways found upright, equal thv
control. •'

They whom her shaken locks have held in
terror, they

Suck from the lioness's dugs the milk of
sway.

They who their ancient kings adored with
whitened lips,

They that were scourged with scorpions,

thou dost correct with whips ;
Therefore do all the seas groan scarred with

thy ships.
The riches of the nations flow to thee like

sand;
Tliou givest them thy peace, their price is

in thy hand.
Thy garners are made fuU, thy glories

heaped and pressed.
Wherefore thou sayest to thy soul : " Come,

eat, and rest ! "
Thy soul desireth peace, and may desire it

well;
In shadow of thy peace all they that buy

and sell.
The merchants of the four-nooked world

their chaffer hold ;
But what was won by iron, thou shalt not

keep by gold.

If the world's wheels should slack, the

heavens would part in war.
Sun march its battle against sun, star

mounded upon star.
No less would be the ruin, if thou shouldst

shirk thy fate,
Shoiddst thou neglect, forget, the gods have

made thee great.
0 England, slothful, blind! too confident

and high,
Who stoodest in thyself, and bad'st the

world go by :
Saidst — " Go thy ways in peace, and leave

my ways to me " ;
Know'st thou not no man's friend is all

men's enemy ?
One friend is thine in the East— what ! dost

thou count her cost ?
Dost hesitate, falter ? Whilst thou falterest

she is lost !
Count, if it please thee count, count what

thy navies can.
Poised against Eussia, France, Germany—

and Japan !
0 England, palterer, falterer! again I say

to thee :
"Whoso is no man's friend is all men's

enemy."
Thou sayst : " The nations hate me ; how

have I earned their hate ? "
Thy sin is heavy, England ; thou hast been

too great,
The nations hate thee not for these or for

those faults ;
Nay, thou hast ruled the world, the world it

is revolts.
Smitten on either cheek, from one to other

hurled.
It is the world 'gainst England, England

'gainst the world.

On other marts than those where the hoarse
trader yells.

There are things bought and sold which not
the merchant sells.

The shares thereon are honour, and the
investment blood.

And honour's shares must rise at length,
though all the world withstood.

A nch estate thou hold'st which thy fore-
fathers got ;

It is not thine to barter, thine to let it rot.

Thou guard' st it for thy sons, this regal-fair

estate.
No jot of land or honour is thine to alienate :
Wilt thou, for present grant of despicable

j)eace.
Mortgage the greatness, England, held in

trust for those ?
0 keep thou chained the watch-dog War,

'tis well, in truth ;
But lot it not grow old, sluggard, and

gapped of tooth.
For in a cause approved and virile, we do

hold
The gun's rough lips plead nobler than the

voice of gold.
Our England, show 'tis false, thou stoop'st

unto the vice
Of palsied years in persons and in peoples -

avarice !
Yea, though if thou shouldst fall, it were

such thunder-clap,
Have the heavens spatial silence to fill the

after-gap ?
Though over all the earth thy ruin would be

hurled.
And desolate and unguided stand a mother-
less world ;
Sooner than this, 0 fall with banner lifted

high!
If mightily thou canst not live, take mighty

ways to die ;
If thou no more canst greatly live, choose—

thou canst greatly die !

Fkancis TnoMPSON.

STEVENSON'S FABLES.

The fable with Stevenson was an early
love. " Will-o'-the-Mill " and " Markhein "
are instances of one typo of the form. In the
collection which he called "Fable.s," however,
he keeps nearer to the normal type. About
the year 1888 the idea of publishing them
in a little book was strong with him ; later
a crowd of new interests drove the thing
from his mind, and his death left the project
uncompleted. There are only a score of
them altogether, and many of them scarcely
fill half a page. But they are so perfect in
their way, finished with so sure a touch,
their language so jewelled and chosen, that
the mere excjuisiteness of the manner must
give them claim to life, whoUy apart from
the acuteness and insight in the thought.

The mise-cn-scene of the fables — and it
plays as important a part in this form of
literature as in others — is curiously varied.
In some the background has a sort of
legendary and mystical quality akin to that
of Celtic folk-tales. The use of certain
archaic words, the perpetual appending of
the epithet, the recondite imagery, and a
half-epic form of narration, all combine to
reproduce much of the flavour of a Ghielic
legend. In others the names and conven-
tions of Norse poetry are borrowed with some
success ; and in others, again — and these are
chiefly the shorter and earlier ones — we have
the ordinary mixed background that is
familiar in iEsop. In one sense the best
atmosphere for the fable is that most remote
from common life ; but certain precautions
must be taken. Granted the first fantastic
supposition, the details must be honafide and
convincing. An eccentric fidelity to itself h

March 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

329

le most necessary characteristic, for in this
ay alone can the problem be made to have
18 flavour of drama and some unity pre-
>rved in the emotional effect. In this one
jispect I cannot think that Stevenson ever
briou.sly fails. An artist to his finger-tips,
e could feel the slightest clouding of the
irror. He never elaborates the problem to
iie weakening of the drama, nor lets a purely
btional interest obscure the inner framework
!' thought. If the fables fall short at all,
I is because of an over-elaboration in the
Idancing of the two interests, so that wo
!?gui to watch for the authoi''s skill and
irget the rest.

Eoughly speaking, the fables fall into
ree classes : those which, for want of a
jitter name, one might call gnomic, which
(!al with the little moralities, the incon-
ijtencies of speech and conduct, and the
isuificiency of proverbs and pocket maxims ;
lose which one might call cosmic fables,
:jKular counterparts of an essay like
iPulvis et Umbra," which regard the world
Jjm a great distance, and embody the
pt comic reflections of an alien ; and,
Jstly, those which treat of conventional
Joblems in ethics and metaphysics, cruces
i old as theory. To the first class all
^e shorter belong. "The Sinking Ship"
ilggests a word-puzzle of Lewis Carroll's ;
ad, save for a hint somewhere of a moral,
( es not this smack of " A Mad Tea-party" ?

' ' I beg pardon, sir,' said Mr. Spoker, ' but
Mat is precisely the difference between shaving
i a sinking diip and smoking in a powder
I .gazine ? '

Or doing anything at all in any conceivable
e 3iiui8tance ? ' cried the Captain.

Perfectly conclusive. Give me a cigar ! '
Two minutes afterwards the ship blew up
\ ;h a glorious detonation."

C course, the heroic is always just on the

\fge of farce, but could it have been put

i^ro neatly ? Most of such fables have

f< their moral a sort of inversion of the

c )y-book rule. If we can imagine small

bi's in some future day spelling over some

h truth as "Punishment should be pro-

■tioned to deserts," we find the inversion

" The Devil and the Innkeeper." Or

0 the wholesome tale of " The Penitent" :

A man met a lad weeping. ' What do you
w^p for ? ' ho asked.
I am weeping for my sins,' said the lad.
You must have little to do,' said the man.
he next day they met again. Once more
lad was weoj^ing :

Why do you weep now ? ' asked the man.
I am weeping because I have nothing to
' said the lad.

1 thought it would come to that,' said the
.."

n the second class there is more fancy
ru riot, more choice of imagery. The
fiAt of aU, " The Song of the Mon-ow,"
10 fairy-tale than fable, for it is the
J of it which most impresses — the
■' ling's daughter of Duntrine, the fairest
b<^voen two seas, whose hair was like spun
goft and whose eyes were like pools in a
riy," the " beach of the sea, where it was
aulinm and the wind blew from the place
ofjiins." "The Distinguished Stranger"
is I sort of earlier version of Mr. Wells's
Wtder/ul Visit, and

is a queer, subtle little apologue on the
doctrine of heredity. This is how the
wandering soul speaks to " the man in the
islands who fished for his bare bellyful,
who was bitter poor in goods and bitter ugly
of countenance, and had no wife " :

" My name is not yet named, and my nature
not yet sure. For I am part of a man ; and I
was a part of your fathers, and went out to fish
and fight with them in the ancient days. But
now is my turn not yet come ; and I wait
until you have a wife, and then shall I be in
your son, and have part of him, rejoicing man-
fully to iaimch the boat into the surf, skilful to
direct the helm, and a man of might where the
ring closes and the blows are going."

But most remarkable is the last class of
tales. Stevenson at no time professed an
interest in metaphysics, but I have heard an
authority of some significance call this book
the best work in metaphysics published for
many years. The old stale formulro of the
scliools, the easy solutions which are asso-
ciated with special creeds, are re-stated and
transformed and quickened into life. " The
House of Eld" is a very subtle sermon on
the worth of convention and, at the same
time, on the foUy of its defenders. It is the
old lesson, again, of "Pulvis et Umbra,"
how that theories pass but the life remains,
a pin-point of truth for the perplexed
seeker. In " Something In It," the mis-
sionary, who is snatched to the abodes of
Akaiinga, finds every shred lost to him
except his honesty. la " Faith, Half -Faith,
and No Faith At AU," the priest and the
virtuous person are found wanting ; it is
only the uncritical old rover with the axe
who is willing to die with Odin. " The
sticks may break, the stones crumble,
the eternal altars tilt and tumble," but the
pin-point remains in the man's plain fidelity
to himself. So, too, is the best of them all,
the fable of " The Touchstone," which is a
sort of Appearance and Realitij in a nut-
shell. The Younger Son (it is gratifying
to find the much- praised younger son
at last shown up) brings a piece of
mirror as the touchstone, confirms the old
king in the belief of a lifetime, and marries
the princess. But the elder goes roaming
the world and finds many touchstones which
somehow spoil each otlier, till at last he
finds a clear pebble which gives him truth.

" Now in the light of each other, all the
touchstones lost their hue and fire, and withered
like stars at morning ; but in the light of the
pebble their beauty remained, only the pebble
was the most bright. ' How if this be the truth ? '
he cried, ' that all are a httle true ? ' And he
took it and turned its light upon the heavens,
and they deepened about him like the pit ; and
he turned it on the hills, and the hills were cold
and rugged, but life ran in their sides so that
his own life bounded ; and ho turned it on the
dust, and he beheld the dust with joy and
terror ; and he turned it on himself, and kneeled
down and prayed."

So he returned with the touchstone, only
to find that the girl had married his brother
and he was left in the cold.

" ' Methinks you have a cruel tongue,' said
the elder ; and he pulled out the clear pebble
and turned its light on his brother ; and
behold the man was lying, his soul was shrunk
into the smallness of a pea, and his heart was a
The Poor Thing " bag of little fears like scorpions, and love was

dead in his bosom. And at that the elder
cried out aloud, and turned the light of the
pebble on the maid, and lo ! she was but a mask
of a woman, and withinsides she was quite dead,
and she smiled as a clock ticks and knew not
wherefore, ' Oh, well,' said the elder brother,
' I perceive there is both good and bad. So
fare ye all as well as ye may in the sun ; but I
will go forth into the world with my pebble in
my pocket.' "

A PLEA FOE PUEER ENGLISH.

A coHRKSPONDENT of the AcADEMY, Criticising
some recent remarks of mine on the subject
of " Newspaper English," expressed the
opinion that the living speech of the English
people would continue its natural develop-
ment unwarped by the narrow ideas of the
newspaper pedant, whose existence he ad-
mitted. I am afraid he underrated the
influence of the slipshod or ignorantly
pretentious newspaper scribe in moulding
popular speech. The extension of news-
paper reading in these days creates, it seems
to me, a wholly new set of conditions with
regard to grammar and idiom, just as the
invention of printing itself, in the first
instance, checked the natural fluidity of
language. As a rule, the newspaper reader
is just sufficiently acquainted with the
principles of grammar to know that he
must keep a guard upon his tongue and
his pen, and he naturally takes as his
model the printed English which is supplied
him with his rolls at breakfast. This would
be a happy circumstance if the model
English were written by some one whose
discretion could be trusted, but unfortunately
the bulk of the best newspapers is the work
of men who have no sense of style, no
acquaintance with philology — in fact, no
literary culture whatever. I am not speak-
ing of the leader-writers, the art or book
reviewers, or even the special correspondent.
Perhaps one requires to know the inside of
a newspaper office to appreciate the true
dimensions of the evil. 'The real arbiter of
style in a London newspaper is the outside
reporter, the "liner," as he is technically
called, from his being paid so much a line,
whoso " copy" is, to some extent, licked into
shape by the sub-editor. Few liners can be
trusted to write a single sentence gram-
matically. The sub-editor corrects the
grosser inaccuracies of the copy, but he has
no time, even if he had the ability, to re-
cast in good English the reports of fires,
biu-glaries, murders, School Board and
County Council proceedings, &c., which
accordingly go into circulation with all
their inherent vices unmodified. A very
strange sort of English is that coming into
vogue — an English where theinterdependence
of tenses, the use of the subjunctive, and all
the other subtleties of idiom, are played
havoc with. Perhaps if the "liner" were
left to himself we should not fare so badly ;
he might be trusted to give us at least the
" living English of the people." The real
enemy is the sub-editor, whose ideas of style
prompt him to cut out every idiomatic ex-
pression, every turn of phrase which gives
spirit or colour to the language. For the
sub-editor himself is by no means a cultured

330

THE ACADEMY.

[March 19, 1898.

person ; he knows just enough of the rules
of grammar to misapply them, as -when he
makes persons talk "loudly," or flowers
smell "sweetly," or say "last week I
intended to have written," instead of "to
write." He is the newspaper pedant that
I have in my eye, and the worst of all
pedants is the ignorant one. In newspaper
sub-editors, above all, a little knowledge is
a dangerous tiling.

It is to this enemy of the English lan-
guage that we probaialy owe such a mon-
strosity as "(?» university," "an usage,"
where the "an" is inserted before a vowel to
gratify the eye, and in ignorance of the fact
that it is the" ear that has to be consulted ;
"an university" being, in fact, no more
tolerable than "an young man." "Very
disappointed," " very pleased," " very
obliged," are also pet expressions of the
newspaper scribe who does not know that
the words here qualified are not adjectives
but participles, and that the proper qualifi-
cative is "much." If he came across the
fine old English idiom " Father wants the
door shutting," he would change the last
word into " shut." He it is, too, who fails
to distinguish between the proper and the
improper use of the word " party." Of
course, one can be a "party" to a law-suit,
but there is no excuse for speaking of a
" party in black " if a single person is
meant, or for calling a bishop a "party in
a shovel hat." The printer's reader has
faults of his own, but it is the " liner "
and the newspaper sub-editor who are
responsible for much of the vulgarity and
the platitude of current newspaper English.
Have they, either of them, ever heard of
the " double genitive " — that construction
so peculiarly English ? "A speech of
Mr. Gladstone " is journalese ; but, of
course, it is incorrect — it should be "Mr.
Gladstone's." "A picture of the king"
is not the same thing as a " picture of the
king's " ; the former being a portrait of the
king while the latter is his majesty's pro-
per^. In the inflections of the pronouns,
the existence of this possessive becomes
apparent. We say " a book of mine." Not
even a newspaper sub-editor would say "a
book of me " ; but he continues fatuously
to repeat — I came across the phrase the
other day, and there are few issues of a
newspaper where its equivalent is not to be
found — " a remark of Mr. Chamberlain."
I pass over the vulgarities of style with
which nearly every newspaper is disfigured.
In journalese a policeman never goes to an
appointed spot; he "proceeds" to it. The
picturesque reporter seldom talks of a
horse, it is a steed or a charger. The sky
is the welkin ; the valley is the vale ; fire is
the devouring element. One often wonders
how magistrates and other public men
stand the bad grammar which is set down
for them.

It is much to be wished that a purer style
of English were adopted in the daily press ;
but so long as the newspaper continues to be
produced under its present conditions there
is little hope of amendment. Meanwhile
it is the duty of aU English writers who
know something of the history of their own
language to combat the evil tendencies of
the time, to cultivate idiom, to eschew the

foolish Latinisms, which are the news-
paper scribe's ideal of style, and to keep
to the pith and man-ow of our English
tongue. Out of the immense store of
provincialisms still current in England the
literary language might be indefinitely
enriched. Many of these provincialisms are
unque.stionably more graphic and vigorous
than their literary equivalents, even when
such exist, which is not always the case.
"Eoky" and " thongy " are expressive
terms applied to the weather in the Norfolk
dialect, the former meaning thick or foggy,
the latter close and oppressive. "Eoky"
has clearly some affinity with the Scotch
" reek " and the German " Ranch " ;
"thongy" comes from the Swedish. And
surely we could do very well with
"traping" as applied to a dragging skirt;
"winnock," in the sense of to cry or to
weep (how is it, by the way, that we have
no good word for an act so common?) ;
likewise "fosey," over-ripe or soft (this, too,
is Scotch); "cop" in the sense of to catch
(the Scotch " kep "), which would at once
make "copper," a policeman, respectable.
" To hull," again, is a useful East Anglian
term evidently related to our "haul," but
having a much wider application. A man
" hulls " on his coat, a woman her bonnet,
and you may even take something to
"hull" you into a sweat. Consider how
weak is our equivalent word " put." Ex-
amples could be indefinitely multiplied.
There is not a provincial dialect in England
which could not be advantageously drawn
upon for words or phrases, and I can
suggest no better way of bringing such
neglected or despised chips of the old Anglo-
Saxon into general use than that good
writers should use them discreetly in their
compositions. Surely there need be no fear
of the reading public resenting it, when we
remember how much they have patiently
borne at the hands of the " KaUyarders."
And the continuous use of dialect in fiction
is one thing ; the occasional importation into
literary English of a happy word like "huU"
or "winnock" is another. The need for
some such action is the more necessary that
the Board School is everywhere killing the
local dialect, which, in its way, is just as
respectable a growth as the literary lan-
guage, and sometimes suijerior to it in
graphic power. Already very little remains
of some local dialects except accent and
intonation.

An inexplicable shamefacedness prevails
with regard to the use of provincialisms.
They are thought to be vulgar, not to say
discreditable. This is unjust, besides being
unphilological, because it was only by a
fluke that one of the many dialects once
current in this country was raised to the
dignity of the literary language. It was,
I believe, the accident of Chaucer's writing
in the South Midland dialect which deter-
mined the development of our English
speech. But for Chaucer the literary English
of to-day might have been the dialect of
Lancashire or Devonshire. The Chaucerian
dialect was fortunate enough to become the
recognised literary medium, by which lucky
chance it dwarfed all its kin into insignifi-
cance, even the dialect of Lowland Scotch,
which, thanks to Bums and other native

poets, still boasts a life of its own. It L
not, however, for sentimental reasons tka
I am making this appeal for a purer styL
of English. I take my stand on the broa(
ground of utility. The fact that the provin
cial dialects have lost caste is no reason whi
we should not recognise, and, if possible
preserve what is best in them. At presen
the great source of " new words " in Eng
lish is Cockney slang, which cannot, like tlii
provincial dialects, bo regarded as a well o;
English undefiled. We are also too fond o
going to the French for a new term, or coiain;
it out of Greek or Latin. The Germans ar
wiser in their generation ; their new wonli
even in science, being mostly hoiue-madi:
and, therefore, understanded of the peoplt
From our provincial dialects there ar
scores and hundreds of useful words to cul
— words which seem to carry their ovn
meaning with them, and writers of Englisl
ought, in my opinion, to draw more freel
than tliey do from these humble sources. Ii
every genuine provincialism you are sure t
find the old Scandinavian sap which i
another form has made the English rac
what it is. J. F. Nisbet.

ZOLA'S PARIS.

[M. ZoL.\'8 new novel has aroused so muc
interest in London and on the Continei
that we make no apology for printing
second article on this subject by our Frenc
correspondent.]

As a study of Paris, the book is withoi
any value whatever. The Paris of M. Zol
as little resembles real Paris as Ids natura
ism resembles life. Paris — the city i
pleasure ; light, brilliant, witty, witch thi
she is; luminous, charming, the etern:
Jascinatrice, is here merely a dull an
squalid centre of corruption. We are use
to the strange obliquity of M. Zola's glaiici
which, falling on Eome, sees only hideous
ness ; dwelling on Paris, discovers nothin
but ulcers, leprosy, a monstrous conglomen
tion of filth and suffering. It was not sue
a pen as his that led us to nourish any lioj
of finding something of the radiance, of tl
vivid individuality, of the elusive, capricioi
soul, the delicate sadness, the distinctioi
the grace — in a word, the supreme ai
indefinable charm of the " Ville Lumiere.
If only the instrument he wields were;
little lighter, could he be induced to ming
a thimbleful of water with his uncon
promising ink, something might have bee
hoped from his interpretation of hi
perversity. The arts and graces are exclude
from tlie ruthless literature of M. Zoli
while sin itself, fi-om grotesque exaggeratioi
ceases to have any intelligent connexic
with poor outraged humanity.

Not that Paris is obscene— far from i
It contains not a single objectionable seem
hardly an i is dotted. The long, intolerabi
long, volume is a justification of anarch;
A rich man himself, Zola prof esses the moi
impassioned execration of the rich— a"
nearly weeps over the mildness, the virtu
and heroism of Salvat, the anarchist, wh
attempts to blow up the banker's hole
The essential quality of the book is p'lj
and this is finely shown in all its frantnes

tfARCn 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

331

iper,
itims

1 excess. But it misses its effect owing
the writer's defective vision, his lack of
ny and humour. The poorest devil that
■r drew breath has his hours of gaiety,
is not more consistent in his misery than
1 the prosperous in their fortune. All
JO are guided by the April moods of life ;
sometimes — not often enough, alas! —
prised by joy, oftener crushed by son-ow.
•h or poor, the implacable hand of fate
ighs with a like remorseless weight upon
all, and we are all alike the inevitable
tims of our own temperament, taste and
far more even than are we the
of environment. A gay-hearted
[gar is as often met with along the high-
Id of life as a morose and melancholy
jlionaire.

i5ut it is the way of fanatics to lack
JQOur and interpret the universe by the
jcurity of their own convictions. There
no longer be any doubt that M. Zola is
jmatic after Justice. He makes his con-
ijiion of faith in Paris, and lie nobly offers
iself in its interest for immolation on the
ll,r of national prejudice. His hero is
ild for justice." Might not his words
fitly placed as a motto before the resume of
1 prods Zola : "There is no humanity, there
i'mly justice." "What is just is just, in
^e of everything, should even the world
Dto pieces. Here the fanatic's cry is
'lOnable enough, but we are less disposed
ccept the development of the idea that
lemns the world to the destructive retri-
on of the bomb in e.xpiation of universal
stice. It is nothing less than insanity
lace in the moiith of a vii'tuous and up-
t man of science — a man who carries the
ity of a long existence filled with labour
accomplished duties, a man of un-
lished past, a mingling of sage and lay-
iJt in easy circmnstances, the centre and
linment of a warm domestic circle — such
'ij words as those with which Guillaume
ejires his intention of blowing up the
ihrch of Montmartre at the hour of
e idietion, when ten thousand pilgrims are
BiTegated there. Gravely Zola tells us
lif he liad first thought of the Opera, but
e -elinquished the idea lest it should be
Bjrded as an explosion of socialist envy
dout any " high significance." Then he
:k ght of the Bourses, to strike at coiTupt-
"•■■"Id, and lay in ruins the seat of the
sts. This he found still too special
.. .iioignificant compared with his vast pro-
se of renovation and expiation. The
'ace of Justice, the Chamber of Assizes,
e: haunted him — it is not at aU im-
ircable that we shall have that Chamber
f .ssizes in all its moral obliquity and
vn justice, in its recent full blare of
risibility, its monstrous indecency of
uc3d .audience and presidential partiality,
volume that will for long connect its
ntous name with tliat of its latest
the man of unflinching pen, for
. candour has no terrors and facts have

" Tiat a temptation," he exclaims, "to

lal justice of our German justice, to sweep

wa^ criminal and witnesses, the attorney

■"'""1 who charges, the lawyer who defends,

istrates who judge, the sightseers who

u look on as if it were a serial novel!

And what a savage irony this siimmary and
superior justice of the volcano sweeping all
away without any respect for detail ! "

It will be seen that Paris is written with
all Zola's ferocious sincerity and earnest-
ness. If he sees everything awry, every-
thing through smoked glasses, and marches
through experience witli an emphatic fist
for ever sharing condemnation in the face of
Providence, he possesses one virtue his
enemies must ever acknowledge — courage.
His courage may be a pose, but there it is
flagrantly evident, essentially the courage
we have been taught to admire in the
martyrs. He dares everything — contumely,
poverty — for his convictions ; and, if money
has flowed plentifully into his coffers in his
long campaign against reticence and rose
haze in literature, it cannot be denied that
no writer has ever had a greater load of
abuse and hostility to bear. Of course he
earned it as the acknowledged prince of
pornography ; but it needed all the same
an uncommon courage to court it : and this
lesson of courage he preaches more eagerly
now than ever. This new book, the pre-
cursor of his splendid sacrifice to principle,
is a sermon on the theme that comes straight
from the man's heart, the cry of a laborious
and indomitable nature. It is the glorifica-
tion of honest labour in contrast with the
iniquitous traffic in money, which sows
ruin, discontent, luxury, or corruption. It
is a significant fact that this fierce onslaught
against the " haute finance," otherwise
Jewish bankers, should immediately precede
the writer's battle with his entire country
on behalf of a Jew. It suffices to establish
the perfect disinterestedness, the absolute
imj)artiality of Zola's cause.

But the animosity of the most prejudiced
and envenomed press of the world will not
be diminished by the severity of his attacks
upon its morals. It would indeed be
difficult for the average English mind to
fathom the astounding and cynical corruption
of the Parisian press. There is no attempt
to cloak its venality. Every evdogistic article
is paid for according to the position of the
newspaper. Eeviewing is either a question
of camaraderie or bribe, with the result
that not a single new book is ever criticised.
Prompted by friendship or money, it is safe
to be a masterpiece anyhow. Not so long
ago the Figaro furnished us with a glaring
example of unscrupulousness. The first to
condemn, and that in no measured way.
Major Esterhazy, when the shares depre-
ciated, it tranquilly and cynically changed
its opinion, and glided to the opposite side.
This striking absence of moral conviction,
of average honesty or honour in the Parisian
press Zola exposes mercilessly, along with
that of ministers and deputies. It is
possiblj' an exaggeration to offer us the
spectacle of one ministry reversed and another
chosen for its greater susceptibility to the
charms of a certain courtesan, who, desiring
to enter the Comedie Fran9aise, and having
no other qualification than a virginal pro-
file, was naturally inadmissible. The new
minister forces the doors of Molicre's house,
all Paris applauds tlie courtesan's Mhut, the
austerest critics, bribed with shares or
banquets, delicately hymn her praises in
the most literary papers.

If M. Zola only had some notion of style,
and did not weigh too disastrously upon his
pen, we might be permitted to carry away a
pleasing picture of the family of Guillaume
Marie, the healthy and good-humoured
young woman— Mere Grandes, the wise
and silent domestic sovereign, and the
three big sons, all affectionate, simple and
laborious. But unhappily the writer mars
the impression he designs to make. He
repeats too frequently the word that desig-
nates each one, till it becomes a kind of
tie, and consequently in a measure ridic-
ulous and in'itating. But, taken broadly,
not judged by the narrower limitations of
art, the picture is a fine and sensitive one.
M. Zola has as little fear of ridicule as of
anything else. So he does not hesitate to
assure us that the bicycle is one of the
instruments of social redemption. He is
convinced that women who ride a bicycle can
never go wrong or make fools of themselves.
If sense and virtue are the result of bicycling,
then in heaven's name let every maid and
lad wheel to satiety. There can be no doubt
that Zola has adequately accomplished his
purpose as advocate of the instrument by
his contrast of Marie, the brave bicyclist,
whom the ex-abbe, Pierre Froment, wins
and wears, with the mother and daughter in
execrable rivalry below upon the fashion-
able boulevards, the one vicious, hard, and
cruel, the other jdelding, voluptuous, and
stupid — intelligence of an evil kind in
the one counterbalancing beauty in the
other, the mother hating the daughter who
has robbed her of her lover, the daughter
ready to murder the mother who has been
the mistress of the man she marries. This
delightful family circle is completed by a
son, a creature of nameless and insignificant
infamy, and a father, a kind of Baron
Eeinach, who corrupts everybody round
him — ministers, nobles, deputies, and jour-
nalists— with gold, buys consciences in
sheaves, and who knocks down one ministry
and builds up another simply to have a
Daughter of Joy accepted by the Comedie
Frangaise, because it is her last caprice.
To achieve this noble end, he buys critics,
editors, ministers, and deputies. The
President of the Eepublic alone is not
brought into the matter. But in the face
of the Panama scandal, in the face of the
inexplicable irregularities of the affaire
Esterhazy and the prods Zola, who shall
say that this is an overcharged picture of
latter-day Paris ? We are constrained to
admit that such things can be ; that Parisian
ministers, deputies, critics, and journalists
are unhappily all purchasable; that such
an abstract thing as honour has scant re-
cognition in public life under the third
Eepublic. As Edmond Eostand, the author
of that delicious play, "Cyrano of Bergerac,"
says with the simplicity of genius, what is
needed is a panaclw. To worship some-
thing, and be ready to die for it — above
gold and sordid success and shabby social
recognition ! This is the word of comfort,
the word of hope, the nation's cure ! A
nation needs an ideal, just as the huinan
heart needs love. Zola's panache is —
audacity, courage ; no mean one.

H. L.

333

THE ACADEMY.

[Maboh 19, 1898.

THE WEEK.

"XT'OT a productive week. The issue
J^ of a bulky two-volume biograpliy
of Audubon, the naturalist, may seem
superfluous at this date ; but the author of
Auduhon and his Journals must be allowed
the privileges of a grand-daughter. More-
over, Miss Audubon writes her biography
because she thinks it is needed to counteract
the existing one edited by Mr. Eobert
Buchanan. She writes in her Preface :

" The Life of Audubon, the Naturalist, edited
by Mr. Eobert BuchaDan from material supplied
by his widow, covers, or is supposed to cover,
the same ground I have gone over ; that the
same journals were used is obvious ; and,
besides these, others, destroyed by fire in
Shelbyville, Ky., were at my grandmother's
command, and more than all, her own recol-
lections and voluminous diaries. Her MS.,
which I never saw, was sent to the English
publishers, and was not returned to the author
by them or by Mr. Buchanan. How much of
it was valuable, it is impossible to say ; but the
fact remains that Mr. Buchanan's book is so
mixed up, so interspersed with anecdotes and
episodes, and so interlarded with derogatory
remarks of his own, as to be practically useless
to the world, and very unpleasant to the
Audubon family. Moreover, with few ex-
ceptions, everything about birds has been left
out. Many errors in dates and names are
apparent, especially the date of the Missouri
River journey, which is ten years later than he
states. However, if Mr. Buchanan had done
his work better, there would have been no need
for mine; so I forgive him, even though he
dwells at imnecessary length on Audubon's
vanity and selfishness, of which I find no
traces."

The biography which Miss Audubon has
put forth may claim to have received the
imprimatur of the Audubon family ; but
doubtless Mr. Buchanan will have some-
thing to say in defence of his own work.

Another biography of the week is inspired
by a feeling somewhat similar to Miss
Audubon's— the desire to do justice to a
character which the author thinks has been
misrepresented. In the opening chapter of
his book, Sir Hudson Lowe and Na/poleon, Mr.
R. C. Seaton says :

" No apology ... is necessary for an
attempt to clear the character of one whose
name is indissolubly connected with the closing
scenes of the Emperor's hfe, of one who has
been so maligned and calumniated that his
name has become a byword for peevishness of
temper, coarseness of language, and petty
persecution. It is scarcely necessary to say that
I refer to Sir Hudson Lowe, the Governor of
St. Helena during Napoleon's captivity. French
national pride has made it a point of patriotism
to cling to charges long after they have been
disproved ; but something different might have
been expected from themselves. Sir Hudson
Lowe makes no demand on our generosity ; he
claims only justice, and it is hard that now that
he has been more than half a century in his
grave this claim should not be accorded to his
memory."

Mr. Seaton's pages, which do not greatly
exceed two hundred, contain some matter
hitherto unpublished, this having been sup-
plied by Sir Hudson Lowe's only surviving
daughter, Miss C. M. S. Lowe.

The late Mr. Samuel Harvey Eeynolds
has not left a name familiar to the public.
Yet the public has often been directly in-
fluenced by him in the last twenty years.
Mr. Eeynolds wrote some 2,000 leaders in
the Times, between 1873 and 1896 ; and it
was his creed that a journalist ought to be
content to be personally unknown. The
volume before us is largely composed of Mr.
Eeynolds's Times contributions ; but there
are longer essays, contributed thirty years
ago to the Westminster Review. Prof. George
Saintsbury has written an introduction to
the volume, and he is careful to point out
the dates attaching to the various papers.
Thus the essay on " Dante and his English
Translators " " was written long before the
flood of studies in Dante and Dante hand-
books, and 80 forth, which the last quarter of
a century has seen." Among these essays
we have " The Fathers of Greek Philo-
sophy" (1862), "The Critical Character"
(1863), " Thoughts on Homer " (1870),
"Smokiana" (1890). The last-named essay
is the single paper which represents the
lighter side of Mr. Eeynolds's talent. Its
presence in the volume leads Prof. Saints-
bury to remark that Mr. Eeynolds was " the
only man I ever knew who could play
whist holding his cards in both hands, and
yet managing to sustain a long ' Broseley
straw ' in his mouth without breaking or
dropping it."

The third volumeof the " Library Series"
is Library Administration by Mr. John Mac-
farlane. In this book Mr. Macfarlane
touches on the salient points of a librarian's
duties. In five chapters he deals with : "The
Library and its StafE," " The Acquisition of
Books," "Cataloguing," "Arrangement,"
and " Access and Preservation."

DRAMA.

EVEEY now and again the old ques-
tion arises whether the play makes
the actor or the actor the play. Eiding
on the crest of a success, the actor is
prono to believe that it is to himself
rather than to the author that credit is due.
And examples are not wanting in support of
this view. Notoriously, the "Private Secre-
tary," one of the most successful farces of
modern times, was only rescued from the
limbo of failure by Mr. Penley's appearance
in the title - part. On the other hand,
" Charley's Aunt," after being successfully
launched by the same quaint comedian, was
successfully played by scores of actors all
over the United Kingdom, the Colonies, and
even the continent of Europe. In that case
it must have been the play which lifted the
actor. The popularity of " Our Boys,"
again, which ran four years at the Vaude-
ville, was generally attributed to Mr. Thomas
Thorne and the late David James, its prin-
cipal exponents ; but those actors both before
and after their historical achievement were
associated with failures. Yet he would be
a bold man who would assert that it is not
Mr. Wyndham who has raised " David
Garrick," a comparatively wortliless adapta-

tion from the French into one of the mop
notable plays of the day. The truth is, tha
the author and the actor act and react upo:
each other so intimately that it is ofte:
impossible to apportion praise or hlani
with any approach to certainty. In "Tli
Sea Flower," which occupies the bUl of th
Comedy Theatre, the acting does somethinj
to disguise or atone for the shortcomings o
authorship. On the other hand, it wa
powerless at the Garrick to save "22j
Curzon Street " from disaster.

In connexion with " 22a, Curzon Street
there is also this curious fact to be notef
that while unquestionably one of the mof
ineffective, unworkmanlike, and worthies
plays ever written, it came from the sam
hand that wrote " Charley's Aunt," which, a
things considered, is probably entitled to ran
as the most successful play of the Victoria
era. That the stage was a lottery we have Ion
been aware, but it has been reserved fc
Mr. Brandon Thomas to show that the es
tremes of success and failure may be com
bined in one person. Unlike most plaj
that receive an emphatic first night cot
demnation, "22a, Curzon Street " containei
a distinctly workable idea.

A NEW and plausible variant of the one
famous "Box and Cox" story, and treate
lightly and frivolously, it might have forme
the groundwork of an excellent one-ai
farce. Unfortunately it was thought d(
sirable to amplify it into four act
with the criminal element brought int
prominence; so that it became a curioi
compound of melodrama, farce, and burls!
que. Such inconsistency of purpose in
dramatist is fatal : the audience never kno'
how to take him. They are perplexed an
disconcerted, and end by "damning" ti
piece in the forcible language of on
forefathers, out of hand. That so e?
perienced a playwright and actor as M;
Brandon Thomas should have fallen into th;
error is passing strange. This on broa
lines ! But inconsistency was not the onl
fault of " 22a, Curzon Street." It exhibited
worse — obscurity. ' ' Ce qui n'est pas claire
— our Gallic neighbours are fond of saying-
" n'est pasjfrangais." Withequal truthitma
be said that what is not clear is not drami
The first duty of tho dramatist, as of the writs
of every kind and degree, is clearness. 1
that fails, nothing else matters much, unles
he happens to be a Meredith or a Browninf

Mr. Brandon TnoiiAs's ill-starred play k
caUs a famous example of comic melodram
on the French stage. " L'Auberge (h
Adrets " was first presented as a serious pla
by Frederick Lemaitre. The author's inepti
tude amused tho public, and the eurtai
fell amid roars of laughter. The famou
actor lost no time in turning tlie situation t
account. At the second performance h
frankly accentuated the comic note, an
finally turned a stupid drama into afiwl
class burlesque, which stiU survives unile
the title of " Eobert Macaire." It is not 8
many years ago since " Eobert Macaire " wa
revived at tho Lyceum by Sir Henry Imng
though whether the eminent actor would no>
dare to enact that colossal ruffian and pictur

March 19, 1838.]

THE ACADEMY.

333

[ue tatterdemalion, with his battered hat,
. loiig-t<ailed coat, his patched breeches,
I his creaking snuff-box, which always
iiiinded his faithful henchman, Jacques
lop, of the rattling of the gibbet-chains, I
jnot know. The best chance for " 22a,
irzon Street " is, that it should suffer the
le of "L'Aubergo des Adrets," and be
med into a burlesque.

ICo a totally different order of drama
longs " The Sea Flower," an ultra-
jious play by Mr. Arthur Law, who
]i won his reputation in farce. "The

I Flower " bears the same relation
1 real life or ordinary human motive
8 the "twopence coloured" fiction of
:]-ty or five and thirty years ago. The
■ij opens in India, where a military
Kev, one Captain Sherwood, is about to
i tried by court-martial for having given
li order in the field that savoured of
:(ardice. He never gave the order, which
[jinated from his second in command,
iJutenant Trafford. This he could prove.
I he loves Mrs. Tralford, whom he had
>\ through a misunderstanding, and lest the
sJDSure of her husband's villany should
ijio her pain, he declines to offer any
Qmce to his judges, and being found
ijty of the charge of cowardice is expelled
army. This is the sort of motive
h makes one despair of the British

na. Has anything even distantly re-
iibling it ever been met with in real life ?

CORRESPONDENCE.

OR fourteen years the quixotic hero is a

cderer upon the face of the earth under

issumed name. But at length all the

acters turn up in a remote fishing

ge in Cornwall. Quo vonkz-vous ? The

d is so small. Here Captain Sherwood

in with his daughter, whom he had

i]iosed to be drowned at sea fourteen

e<8 before, but who has been picked up

rinieless waif by an honest fisherman and

lotod by him as his daughter. What is

this daughter has become engaged to

on of Sherwood's old enemy, Trafford,

the squire of the neighbourhood ; and

le time, Trafford dying of apoplexy, she

mes the mistress of Trevenna Hall.

tlie long arm of coincidence has not

id to exert itself in Captain Sherwood's

ivjir; for, after all these years, that

r's innocence is duly established by the

pnnce of a soldier who has been the

litful servant of the deceased squire, and,

ho eventually marries his

idy's widow. This, truly, is a case of

loLvhirligig of time bringing round its

'v|iges. Here, too, surely, are all the

eiimts of a capital burlesque Yet " The

snji'lower " is so well acted by a company

f dl-round excellence — comprising Mr.

e; champ and Mr. Lovell as Sherwood

id Trafford, Mr. Arthur Playfair as the

)lQ3r-servant, Miss Lena Ashwell as the

Brjne, Miss Eva Moore as the rescued

air whose pet name forms the title of the

^ai and Mr. Charles (Jroves and Miss

lal's Homfrey as fisher-folk — that it almost

inls conviction with it. The scenes in the

ihjg village are good, Miss Homfrey, in

irljiular, having the part of a regular Mrs.

oytr to play. J. F. N.

DANTE EOSSETTI AND CHLOEAL.

Sir, — In the volume of letters from Dante
Eossetti to Mr. Allingham, recently pub-
lished, there occurs a statement, made less
circumstantially once before in William
Eossetti's book, to the effect that Dante was
led into the habit of taking chloral by me.
As the statement thus made is incorrect, and
it seems to have some importance in William
Eossetti's mind, and may have in those of
other friends of Dante, it is worth while to
state the facts. They are as follows:
During the first year of my intimacy with
Dante (1870), and when I was a good deal
at Cheyne Walk, he was greatly troubled by
insomnia, to such an extent indeed that he had
then suspended work, and had fallen into a
morbid and despondent mood, with delusions.
The efforts of his family to induce him to
go into the coimtry, or take any change, were
ineffective, and finding him in a really dan-
gerous state of mind, I advised trying chloral,
which I had been using under the advice of
my physician, and I gave him, of my own
supply, twenty grains dissolved in three
ounces of water, a tablespoonful to be taken
three nights in succession, and then no more
until three days had elapsed, when if it
had the effect desired I would have repeated
the supply. He forgot it until the third
day, and then took the three doses at once.
The effect was not satisfactory, and he
reported that he did not care to repeat it, as
it gave him a short fit of profound stupor
after which his sleoijlessnoss was worse
than before, and he refused to try it again.
At that juncture Mme. Bodichon, who
was a dear friend of both Dante and myself,
had offered nio hor cottage at Scalands for
a few weeks' residence, and with her con-
sent I invited Dante to make me a visit
there. He accepted, and we stayed, I
think, three months, in wliich time ho
entirely recovered his sleep and power of
working, making some of his best drawings
there, but during the whole time he thought
no more of chloral, nor did he need any
soporific. I left him, with Mme. Bodi-
chon's consent, at Scalands, and returned to
America. At a later date I learned that ho
had taken to chloral and had fallen into the
morbid state in which I liad found him in
1870, with delusions still more distressing,
intensified by some of the criticisms on his
book, which he had finished and published
while we wero at Scalands. He liad taken
tlie chloral by the advice of a physician,
whoso prescription ho had made up at
several druggists' simidtaneously, as the
amount did not satisfy his craving. Between
my prescription and his acquiring the habit
of misuse of the drug there was no con-
nexion whatever, for a considerable time had
elapsed between the two events. Of this
fact William Eossetti must have been aware
at the time, for I have heard him since
deny oven that it was I who made Dante
acquainted with chloral. It was at some
time when I was away from London that the
habit began, for the intimacy between us
when I was in London was such that he
could not have taken it up without my

knowledge, and I was unaware that he had
done so tQl the misuse had become very
grave. In any case, I declare in the most
positive manner that my recommendation of
the drug had only produced peremptory
rejection of it as a remedy for his insomnia.
— I am, &c., W. J. STiLLsr.ty.

Eome : March 7.

A QUESTION OF OEITICISM.

Sir, — Your review of my Songi of Love
and Empire raises an interesting point in
criticism. I do not desire to discuss your
reviewer's estimate of my poems ; indeed, his
praise afforded me pleasure, and his blame
was not given to the quality of my verse ;
but I am compelled to quote from his review
in order to put plainly the point which I
desire to bring forward.

Your reviewer, then, remarks that he
"begins to doubt the author's sincerity."
"Has she a point of view?" he asks.
" Has she a personality ? " " Miss Nesbit,"
says he, " is probably too much in the
thrall of sentiment, too little disposed to
fight against difliculties." How does the
reviewer come to this conclusion ? He
pleads that "the author says so many con-
flicting things, offers so many changes of
mood that he is confused." The very facts
that should have guided have confused him.
Why ? Because he is determined to take all
lyrics as the direct revelation of the author's
personality. He will pin his author down
to one definite point of view, and by the ren-
dering of varied emotions he is bewildered.
He shrinks, very properly, from the ill-
balanced person who should experience aU
the sensations which such a book as this
seeks to indicate. But the idea that the
poems may be dramatic eludes him : ho will
have it that all and sundry are the expression
of the writer's own sentiments.

The effort to build up from an author's
work an image of his personality is ad-
missible. The assumption that the author
is himself the subject of all the emotions
portrayed in his work is an impertinence.
For this assumption denies to your autlior
two of the chief elements of poetry — imagina-
tion and the power of dramatic conception.
There are not, I submit, dramatic crises
enough in any life to occasion the writing
of a dozen personal lyrics : but is the poet
to express only his own emotions ? llavo
the majority of our lyrics been written to
commemorate the experiences of the author ?
Is not each lyric, rather, the author's idea
of the emotions which might be felt by a
certain imaginary person in certain imagined
surroundings ? Does your reviewer really
suppose that lyrics must reflect the author's
mood — that you cannot write a love-song
unless you be in love, or a dirge unless
your hat have a black band ? that that
fascinating adventure in the gondola really
happened to Eobert Browning, and that ho
got over tlie stab, and turned it all into
poetry ? or that the young men who write
hymns to the Blessed Virgin, and sing songs
of the White Eose, are, in fact, ready to die
bravely for the divine rights of the Stuarts,
or to live cleanly for the honour of Our
Lady ?

It is the lack of the dramatic sense which

334

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 19, 1898.

makes the poetry of most living women so
wearisome. They either cannot or dare not
attempt to express any emotions but their
own, necessarily limited. But the aim of
the artist should he to get beyond his own
emotions, to leave the narrow range of feel-
ing incident to his own happy life ; to get
the dramatic point of view — the point of
view of other men — and to express this in
the best waj' possible to his art.

It is quite true that a revelation of per-
sonality should be found in an author's
work, but not always the crude poster-
advertisement of it. Now and then, of
course, one finds a man who will write, and
publish, elegies on his dead baby before the
little coffin has been carried out of the
house of mourning — and certainly the per-
sonality of such a father is very definitely
revealed. But in most cases the real man
is shown not in the matter, but by the
manner of his work. Despairing lyrics
might be written by those whose own
happiness kept them trembling and afraid,
and many a song of roses and wine has
been set down by a man starving in a
garret, sick with a desperate longing for
twopence to spend in gin.

The question is not at all whether an
author reallj» did kiss the dairy- maid in
the orchard, actually laid flowers and tears
upon the tomb of the beloved, but with
what measure of skill he convej'S his con-
ception of the feelings of the man to whom
life brought this pleasure — this pain. The
mass of mankind cannot be expected to
understand. But critics surely should see
that these things are so.

No one human being could have been
in the circumstances and experienced the
sensations expressed in the jioems of Robert
Browning, and I fear, even, that any man
who should have known half the simpler
moods which I have tried to convey in my
own five volumes must have been an actor
in far more dramas than could be for his
soul's health. Can this not be perceived ?

Must we label our verse dramath

WiU

the critics let us off at no less price than
explanatory titles : " Sonnet Expressing the
Sentiments of James on Beholding Jane in
an Omnibus"; or, " Lines Supposed to be
Spoken by Miss Smith on Hearing of the
Marriage of Mr. Eobinson, who formerly
Aspired to her Hand" '? — I am, &c.,

E. Nesbit.
Grove Park : March 13.

purely imaginary) I know not. I am not so
happy as to have "mastered " five languages,
and never led anyone to suppose that I had.
I never " spent a year among the peasants
of Italy." I produce anything but "a
tremendous amount of copy each year." I
am not working " on a new novel of London
life " ; and I never " tried my hand at
biography." Worse than all this is the
long jjassage you quote in conclusion, a sort
of general confession, which the American
writer says that I made " one day, after a
conversation on the metliods of literary
production." Every line of this is dis-
tasteful to me, and in no conversation, at
any time of my life, did I so express myself.
It is monstrous that one should be made to
pule about one's "little happiness," about
" toiling millions who never see the blue
sky," about "toil for Weib tend Kind " and so
on. — I am, &c.,

Geoege Gissino.
Eome : March 8.

MR. GEORGE GI88ING AT HOME.

Sir, — In the Academy of March 5 appeared
an article headed " Mr. George Gissing at
Home," consisting for the most part of quo-
tations from an article on the same subject
in " the American Bookhuyer." Will you
permit me to say that the tone adopted by
this American writer is not a little offensive to
me, that many of his so-called facts are not
facts at all, and that he puts into my mouth
words that I never uttered, and never could
have uttered.

The Bookhuyer article is evidently based
upon certain autobiographical brevities sup-
plied by me, two years or more ago, to an
American journalist. Where the supple-
mentary details came from (unless they are

THE SHAVING OF SHAGPAT.

Sir,' — ^Is it true that Mr. Meredith's
popularity dates from 1885 and the publica-
tion of Diana ? Richard Feverel was reprinted
by Tauchnitz before 1875; and the Baron
counted upon a fair measure of popularity
for the works he included in the collection of
British authors.

Apropos of the comparative neglect of the
Shaving of Shagpat, I may mention that,
reviewing, some eleven years ago, a book
by the most versatile and omniscient of living
writers in Engli.sh, I introduced a chance
reference to Noorna and Shibli Bagarag.
By the next post I got a letter asking what
on earth I meant. Tliat the Shaving of
Shagpat is the most perfect English prose
masterpiece of the century is a fair conten-
tion. One merit it has to which the writer
in your last issue does not allude — a merit
to be thoroughly appreciated, perhaps, only
by a student of popular tales like myself,
but none the less a merit in the eyes of the
critic. As I wrote in 1890, "Of all
modern, consciously-invented fairy tales I
know but one which conforms fully to the folk-
tale convention — the Shaving of Shagpat. It
follows the formula as closely and accurately
as the best of Grimm's or of Campbell's
tales. To divine the nature of a convention,
and to use its capabilities to the utmost, is a
special mark of genius." The other excel-
lences of Shagpat — the richness, the flexi-
bility, the irony, the abiding humanitj' alike
of subject-matter and style — must be
apparent to all who have any feeling for the
art of words. The capacity to bow to a dis-
cipline framed by countless generations of
unknown artists, to triumph not in spite of,
but because of the willingly donned fetters,
is less likely to be recognised.

Alfred Nutt.
270, Strand: March 12.

MARCUS AURELIUS.

Sir, — I read with interest your review of
Dr. Eendall's translation of the immortal
Meditations. In the course of the review
reference is made to the work of earlier

translators. Perhaps you will permit me t
draw attention to a translation, publishe-
in 1792, which, so far as I can di.scover, ha
been unaccountably passed over by student
of the wise Emperor — " the noblest of pagn
teachers," as you fitly say. This translatio
is entitled "A Now Translation from th
Greek Original, with a Life, Notes, &c., b
R. Graves, M.A., Rector of Clavertoi
Somerset, late Fellow of All Souls CoUegi
Oxon, and Chaplain to the Countess Dowagf
of Chatham." The work is dedicated t
the Honourable Edward James Elliot. Th
preface gives what is called " a slight vie
of the Stoic philosophy," and is rather
quaint and lively bit of writing. In a poa
script, reference is made to the translatio
printed at Glasgow in 1747, and to that r
Jeremy CoUier at the beginning of th
century, which, says Mr. Graves, "aboun(
with so many vulgarisms, anilities, and evf
ludicrous expressions ; and is in .so mar
places so unlike the original, that one canni
now read it with any patience. ... In sho
[continues Mr. Graves], I have endeavour!
to steer between the loose translation of
Collier, who often loses sight of his autho
and the dry manner of the Glasgow tran
lator, who generally sticks too close to him
So far as I can judge, comparing Mr. Gravef
work with latter-day translators, he did h
labour of love carefully and well. Can ai
of your readers throw Ught on the personali
of this "Rector of Claverton," or say if I
translation of tlie Meditations is esteemed
worthy one ? — I am, &c., D. Stew.irt. '
Dennistoun, Glasgow : March 8.

BOOK REVIEWS REVIEWED.

'The War of the ^^ ^^^ Criticisms of Mr. Well

Worlds." story that we have se

Bs- H. G. weik. j.j^gj.g jg evidence of the criti;

excitement, of the spell not immingled wi
terror which this story has produced
minds more apt to alarm novelists th
to be alarmed by them. The Satun
Revieid'i critic has evidently enjoyed t
book thoroughly. It is one of the very fi
modern books, he thinks, which might wi
advantage have been extended :

" For instance, after the very spirited m
battle off Clacton, when the torpedo-b(
succeeds in destroying no fewer than thi'
fighting machines, there comes a couipl<
hiatus, as though Mr. WeUs's imagination h
at this point given out, and he could positivi
form not the least idea what would happ
next. Nor can we ; but then we make
pretence to private knowledge of this smazi
history."

The same critic points out that in The. n
of the Worlds Mr. Wells has transcend
his other efforts in marvellous fiction, ini
much as he does not exact, at the outs
the reader's acceptance of some wild propo
tion — a man-eating cephalopod or a tm
machine :

" In The War of tlie Worhh he has had t
astonishing good fortime to hit upon a subji
as far removed from experience, and as coi
pletely outside common expectation, as »
which he has ever treated, and yet posac
No astronomer, uu physicist, can take up
himself to declare that it is absolutely certi

March 19, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

335

lat this planet wiU never be invaded from a
)reign world. The zoologist and the geographer
111 assert of other dreams of Mr. Wells that,
iteresting and curious as they are as specula-
ons, they cannot have happened, and never
ill happen. But that no Martians wiU ever
ivade this globe is more than the wisest cf
i can be sure of. It seems excessively im-
robable— that is the moat that we can say.
Te think this element of remote possibility
Ids very considerably to the thrilling effect ot
[r. Wells's new romance, in which none of
lose sober and exact details are wanting with
bich he always knows how to heighten a tale
' horror."

The Daili/ Chronicle's critic develops the
lought in the last sentence of the above :

"Mr. Wells succeeds in impressing most
vidly upon the imagination the idea that man

not, after all, the supreme product of a
iling universe. In another world all the
iienees may have attained a perfection incon-
iivable to us. We have patronised Mars, and
jken it for granted that, could inter-stellar
lumimication be opened, we should astonish
le Martians by our moral virtues and our
Jiterial potency. Mr. Wells has reversed the
irtcnt, and shown how the Martians might
itonish the ' human ants.' "

The Speaher's critic says :

The War of the Worlds strikes us as being
best story Mr. Wells has yet produced. It
qinot be described as pleasant reading, for it
Djunds in horrors of the most gruesome
feid, and they are recorded with a vividness
Mich impresses them almost painfully upon
t ; reader's imagination. But the consistency
vih which the plot is worked out is admirable,
a\ the force with which the story is told
uintains the reader's interest at the highest
p ut from first to last."

Che Scotsman thinks the story is perhaps
t< fantastic: "It reads like a sort of
nhtmare."

. „ The critics do not like Mr.
rewsury. -^gyman's hero. Says the

Btjley Weyman. J_thenaum :

Of course it is possible to be interested in
d and a coward in fiction ; but when there
lid have been just as much point in making

fcl man tolerable the persistence of his mean-

n(i hurts the story."

Tl .same critic says that the " one really
ilic scene — the accusation of the Duke
. lewsbury] by Sir John Fen wick and
iSi til, and their confutation by the appear-
'; of the Duke's double . . . does not
) the book from dulness."

ut the Speaker has only one cause of
qiJrrel with the author :

iherto he has given us as the leading

in his delightful romances men of

.! and of chivalrous feeling. For some

known to himself on this occasion he

lie the principal actor and narrator of

iiy a despicable coward, against whom

ider's gorge rises almost constantly.

uom this flaw, Shrewsbury will hold its

»|iifside any of its brilliant predecessors."

teratttre complains bitterly of the hero's
chs icter :

his
list*

Vhen a sahreur of noble birth takes us into

)ufidence and narrates his career, we can

with sympathy and satisfaction, but to

be buttonholed by a miserable baseborn clerk,
who has no object in life but to save his own
skin, who is the butt of women and the tool of
knaves, is a sore trial to our knightly spirit."

The Daili/ News and Scotsman's critics
take different views of the book as compared
with Mr. Stanley Weyman's other works.
Says the first :

" Certainly a more stirring narrative, a story
fuller of life, or richer in dramatic colour, has
not yet come from the game pen."

The Scotsman, on the other hand, says :

" This is not by any means the best story
that Mr. Weyman has given us, but perhaps
there is hardly another living writer of romance
whose reputation would not have been enhanced
by it."

And now behold how critics may disagree!
The Baili/ Chronicle's critic, emphasising all
the foregoing criticisms of Shretcslury, says :

" If Mr. Weyman had wished to draw the
true picture of a coward, well and good. We
should not say him nay. Scott has done this
in The Fair Maid of Perth, but his masterly
sketch is affectingly human. But this sneaking,
grovelling cur of an usher. Master Richard
Price ; this paltry, cringing slave, this thing of
ass's milk, who sets down every proof of his
cowardice in his long and tedious story without
shame or demur, is utterly monstrous, unbe-
hevable, and denaturalised. The meanest cur
that ever took a kicking would not have thus
proclaimed his nature. The thing is incredible.
Humour, and humour only, could have can-ied
the thing off, and made the self-revelation
acceptable. But there is no touch of humour
in Richard Price's persistent and monotonous
record of his cowardice. The effort is deaden-
ing, and irritating too, while never for a
moment do we feel the least interest in him.
His 'legs tremble under him ' (p. 60). He is
in a ' dreadful pain ' (p. 04). Threatened
with a beating he ' screams ' and falls on his
knees (p. 66), or he is scared at shadows (p. 86).
He develops ' an aversion to women that
amounted almost to a fear of them ' (p. 103).
We do not wonder at this, for women mock at
him, and the sting of their tongues fails to
move him."

Against this view of the book Mr. Weyman
can cheerfully put that of the Spectator,
whose critic finds merit and interest in the
very circumstances which arride his brother
reviewei-s.

" Mr. Weyman styles his new book simply a
romance, but it is in reality a historical novel,
and an uncommonly able and interesting piece
of work into the bargain. The author's success
is all the more sigaiflicant because he deliberately
discards at the outset all the cut-and-dried
passports to i^opularity familiar to the workers
in this domain of fiction. The hero of the story
is not brought on the scene until the eighth
chapter, and then disappears for another
hundred pages, while the central figure and
narrator is a social cipher, destitute of personal
charm, alternately the dupe and tool of the
stormy petrels of that seething age of intrigue —
the last decade of the seventeenth century. . . .
But the great triumph of the book is really the
self-revelation of the narrator. The psychology
of cowardice has seldom been more elaborately
set forth in a work of fiction, while Price's
supreme and redeeming exhibition of moral
courage, at the prompting of his sweetheart, is
not only in keeping with the man's true
instincts, but it is led up to and narrated in a
manner which carries conviction."

Mr. JOHN LONG'S LIST.

MR. COULSON KERNAHAN'S NEW HOVEL.

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Decorative cover, price e«. [^March 17.

TO BE PUBLTSaSD IMMEDIATELY.

THE STORY OF LOIS. By KATHARINE S. MAC-
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ALL THEY WENT THROUGH. By K. W. ROBINSON.

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THH CLASSICS FOR THE MILLION. Being an Epitome

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PORTRAIT SUPPLEMENTS

THE ACADEMY."

The folloKing have appeared, and the mimbera
containina them can atill be obtained : —

1896.

BEN JONSON November U

JOHN KEATS „ 21

SIR JOHN SUCKLING 28

TOM HOOD December 5

THOMAS GRAY 12

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 19

SIR WALTER SCOTT ._ 26

1897.

SAMUEL RICHARDSON January 2

THOMAS DE QUINCEY „ 9

LEIGH HUNT „ 16

LORD MACAULAY .• 23

ROBERT SOUTHEY ., 80

S. T. COLERIDGE February 6

CHARLES LAMB , 13

MICHAEL DRAYTON 20

WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR .. „ 27

SAMUEL PEPYS March 6

EDMUND WALLER , 13

WILKIE COLLINS , 20

JOHN MILTON 27

WILLIAM COWPER April 3

CHARLES DARWIN „ 10

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON 17

HENRY WADSWORTH LONG- \ 04

FELLOW /

ANDREW MARVELL May 1

ROBERT BROWNING , 8

THOMAS CARLYLE , 15

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY 22

CHARLES DICKENS 29

JONATHAN SWIFT June 5

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE! 12

THACKERAY /

WILLIAM BLAKE 19

SIR RICHARD STEELE 26

ALEXANDER POPE July 3

DOUGLAS JERROLD , 10

FRANCIS BACON ■• 17

336

THE ACADEMY.

IMAKcn 19, 1898.

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RAPARA; or the Right of the I

dividual in the State. By ARCHIB.1LD POESY 1

Cloth gilt, 6s.
"There is abundant food tor the thought of polj »
economists and all serious citizens in Mr. Arra'"
Forsyth's book." — Daily Mail.

CATALOG UBS and PROSPECTUSES tent post fret
application.

London : „ r

T. FISHER UN\7IN, Paternoster Square, ha

Maboh 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY

339

CONTENTS.

Reviews : Page

A Now Study of Shakespeare 839

A Highland Lady 340

Gossip nf the Great 341

A Notable Book 342

Plays, Actable and Otherwise 343

"War Correspondence ... 344

Briefer Mention 345

The Acauemv Sitplement 847—350

Notes and News 351

IbsEn'.s BlETHDAV FUND 362

Ltabrieli.e D'Ansunzio 363

The Recreations ok the Self-Conscious 364

The New Copyright Act 355

I'HE Week 356

I'he Book Market 356

?orbe8posdknce 356

Books Received 358

RK VIEWS.

4. NEW STUDY OF SHAKESPEAEE.

William Shakespeare : A Critical Study. By-
George Brandes. 2 vols. (Heinemann.)

HERE GEORGE BRANDES is a Danish
scholar of repute, and this book, pub-
lished a year or two ago in Denmark and in
iJermany, has already won high praise from
•ontinental critics. The English translation
i^ issued under the superintendence of Mr.
jV^iUiam Archer, to whose critical ability and
icUe pen readers in this country already owe
)me of what is best in Scandinavian Htera-
ire. The work was thoroughly well worth
anslating. It is an admirable and ex-
iustive survey of its subject, carried out
accordance with modem method, and on
e level of modem information. "Writing
iss, we may suppose, for professed students
an for general readers, Herr Brandes does
■t as a rule burden his pages with detailed
jterences to the sources from which his
;ts are drawn ; but he is for the most
rt extremely accurate, and whoso would
8 further may supplement him with Mr.
qlney Lee's excellent article in the
Jftionary of National Biography.

Eerr Brandes begins with the usual
laent as to our ignorance of the details
o Shakespeare's life ; a lament, by the
W, which is, as he is is careful to point
oi, a little in excess of what the facts
wrrant. After all, we probably know as
n^ch about Shakespeare as we do about
al' of his contemporaries who was not,
liji Bacon, something besides a mere man
oi letters. Nevertheless, the numerous
ra)rds and documents which an inde-
fajgable antiquarianism has disinterred do
leie us still very much in the dark.

jWe do not know for certain either when he
leiStratford or when he returned to Stratford
frqi London. We do not know for certain
wnther he ever went abroad, ever visited
liaj. We do not know the name of a single
wolan whom he loved during all his years in
Lojlon. We do not know for certain to whom
hisjornets are addressed. We can see that as
he livanced in life his prevailing mood became
gloiiiier, but we do not know the reason.
La<- on, his temper seems to grow more
serce, but we cannot tell why. We can form
hut»ntative conjectures as to the order in
whii his works were produced, and can only
■wit^ the greatest difficulty determine their

approximate dates. We do not know what
made him so careless of his fame as he seems to
have been. We only know that he himself did
not publish his dramatic works, and that he
does not even mention them in his will."

Like other recent biographers of Shake-
speare, Herr Brandes attempts to piece out
the meagre records from the internal evi-
dence of the plays themselves, and to recon-
struct the history of the poet's " mind and
art "as it is reflected in these. The task,
only rendered possible at all by the labour
of Malone, and of a century of scholars since
Malone, in establishing the chronological
order in which the plays were written,
is a delicate one. The personal and
the dramatic in Shakespeare's work are
so curiously and subtly interwoven
and entangled. Occasionally Herr Brandes
seems to us to overstep the limits of per-
missible conjecture. But as a rule he is
discreet, and exercises judgment as well as
knowledge in his undertaking. And his
wealth of illustrative reading enables him
to reproduce very vividly and convincingly
the historical and social surroundings in
which the plays were written. The ex-
cursuses on Shakespeare's great contemp-
poraries, Ben Jonson and Beaumont and
Fletcher, the accounts of the Essex rebel-
lion and of the unpleasant career of Frances
Howard, Countess of Essex, are admirable
examples of concise incidental narrative.

Probably the fairest way of estimating
the character and value of the book will
be briefly to foUow Herr Brandes' survey.
The facts, ascertained and conjectured, of
Shakespeare's parentage and boyhood are
somewhat cursorily narrated, and one feels
that hardly sufficient justice has been done
to the importance of the Warwickshire
county life as a factor, an early and vital
factor, in the poet's development. Mr.
D. H. Madden's delightfid Diary of Mr.
William Silence must be a corrective to
Herr Brandes here. There follows a good
account of Shakespeare's early years in
London, of his joumeyman-work at the
tinkering up of old plays, of the marked
influence upon him of Marlowe and of
Lyly, of his first experimental essays
in comedy. The period that follows is less
satisfactorily treated. Herr Brandes recog-
nises the probability that Shakespeare went
to Italy and the influence which Italy
exercised upon his impressionable genius;
but he does not succeed in bringing out the
full importance of this crisis or in giving
anything like a reasonably intelligible
account of the growth of Shakespeare's art
between 1592 and 1696: and this is simply
because he has got some of his dates wrong.
" The first plays," he says, " in which we
seem to find traces of Italian travel are ' The
Taming of the Shrew ' and ' The Merchant
of Venice,' the former written at latest in
1596, the latter almost certainly in that or
the following year." Now there can be little
doubt that if the Italian journey took place
at all, it must have been during the closing
of the theatres for the plague in 1592-3.
Is it likely that the Italian influence would
wait a couple of years to declare itself in
the plays? We venture to think that a
careful analysis of all the evidence will
show that, with the exception of "The

Comedy of Errors," all the early plays in
which Shakespeare is not simply re-handling
or continuing other men's work are properly
dated after and not before this journey.
This is not the place to work out this theory
in detail ; but it may be pointed out that
Herr Brandes would make " Venus and
Adonis," "Eomeo and Juliet," and "A
Midsummer Night's Dream " all as early
as 1591. Now modem scholars are prac-
tically unanimous in dating " A Midsummer
Night's Dream" in 1594 or 1595; and to
suppose that either of the other two can
possibly have been written before Shake-
speare's work on "Henry VI.," which the
testimony of Greene and Nash enables us
to fix pretty definitely in 1592, is surely
to give up the problem of Shakespeare's
style altogether. The real difiiculty lies
in "Love's Labour's Lost," but the supposed
reasons for putting this in 1589 are quite
unconvincing; we feel sure that 1593-4 wUl
turn out to be more nearly the proper
date. There are many admirable passages
in Herr Brandes' account of Shakespeare's
early work, but he seems to us to have
failed in getting the proper perspective and
unity of the whole period.

With the historical plays he comes into
the light again, and all the rest of the book
is extremely good and suggestive. Like
most critics, Herr Brandes finds in the great
group of comedies with which the century
closes Shakespeare's time of completest
spiritual harmony :

" If the reader would picture to himself
Shakespeare's mood during this short space of
time at the end of the old century and be-
ginning of the new, let him recall some morn-
ing when he has awakened with the sensation
of complete physical well-lcirg, not only feel-
ing no definite or indefinite ptin or uneasiness,
but with a positive consciousness of happy
activity in all his organs ; when he drew his
breath lightly, his head was clear and free, his
heart beat peacefully ; when the mere act of
Uving was a delight ; when the soul dwelt on
happy moments in the past and dreamed of
joys to come. Recall such a moment, and then
conceive it intensified an hundredfold — conceive
your memory, imagination, observation, acute-
ness, and power of expression a hundred times
multipUed — and you may divine Shakespeare's
prevailing mood in those days, when the brighter
and happier sides of his nature were turned to
the sun."

Again, speaking of the incomparable
types of womanhood which fill these comedies,
Herr Brandes says :

" He was doubtless in love at the time — as he
had probably been all his life through— but his
love was not an overmastering passion like
Romeo's, nor did it depress him with that half-
despairing feeUng of the unworthiness of itj
object which he betrays in his Sonnets ; nor,
again, was it the airy ecstasy of youthful
imagination that ran riot in ' A Midsummer
Night's Dream.' No, it was a happy love,
which flUed his head as well as his heart,
accompanied with joyous admiration for the
wit and vivacity of the beloved one, for her
graciousness and distinction. Her coquetry is
gay, her heart is excellent, and her intelligence
so quick that she seems to be wit incarnate in the
form of a woman."

Herr Brandes then proceeds to study the
gradual overshadowing of this large Shake-
spearean serenity, the intrusion of the note

^11

^40

THE ACADEMY.

[March 26, 1898.

of bitterness and disillusion, the slow
unrolling of the long line of tragedies and
mirthless comedies, through which the
pessimism swells and intensifies itself, until it
finally bursts into the tempestuous denuncia-
tions of " Timon of Athens." Herr Brandes
finds one source of the tragic mood in the fall
of Essex and of Shakespeare's earliest patron,
Southampton, with whose interests he con-
ceives Shakespeare to have been closely
bound up ; another in the moral corruption
of the English Court under James the First;
ret another in the drama of the poet's own
ife darkly shadowed forth in the Sonnets.
Herr Brandes does not, however, suppose
that the Sonnets in any way relate to
Southampton. On the contrary, as Mr.
Tyler has already pointed out in the
Academy, he is a warm supporter of the
Pembroke-Fitton theory. The value of his
adhesion is, however, rather discounted
by the fact that he appears to take
his version of the evidence wholesale from
Mr. Tyler, borrowing, for instance, the
mistaken ascription of a copy of Donne's
verses to Lord Pembroke. And, of course,
the book was written before Lady New-
degate - Newdigate's evidence that Mary
Fitton was not " black " was made public.

Finally, Herr Brandes gives an excellent
account of Shakespeare's return to Stratford,
and of the renewed optimism which charac-
terises his later plays. He concludes with
a declaration that, after all, we do know
something of the poet's individuality :

" The William Shakespeare who was bom at
Stratford-on-Avon ia the reign of Queen
Elizabeth, who lived and wrote in her reign and
that of James, who ascended into heaven in
his comedies and descended into hell in his
tragedies, and died at the age of fifty-two in
his native town, rises a wonderM personality
in grand and distinct outlines, with all the
vivid colouring of life, from the pages of his
books, before the eyes of all who read them
with an open, receptive miad, with sanity of
judgment and simple susceptibility to the
power of genius."

We have only been able to foUow the main
outline of Herr Brandes' book. Upon his
copious and interesting digressions into
contemporary history, or his penetrating
criticisms of individual plays, we have no
room to touch. The book is a valuable
contribution to Shakespearean literature, and
essential to every reader who is competent
to distinguish what in it is fact from what is
merely a legitimate exercise of reconstruc-
tive conjecture. For those not so competent
it woidd, perhaps, be dangerous. The style
is capital, full of colour and of life. And a
word of praise is due to the fine translation,
in which Mr. Archer has been assisted by
Miss Diana White and Miss Mary Morison.

A HIGHLAND LADY.

Memoirs of a Highland Lady: the Auto-
biography of EUzaheth Grant, of Rothie-
murchm, 1797 - ISaO. Edited by Lady
Strachey. (John Murray.)

The Grants of Eothiemurchus are a
younger branch of that great house of Grant
which, by judicious obedience to the powers

that were, succeeded in keeping their lands
in the North at times when more hot-headed
clans were disinherited. Eothiemurchus
itself is a beautiful place among pine woods,
and the stock which dwelt there has always
been a vigorous one, giving many honest
soldiers and less conspicuously honest lawyers
to history. This book is the autobiography
of a lady of the house, written many years
later — a sort of chronicle of youth and child-
hood and the doings of Highland gentle-folk
in England and at home in the far-off days
of the early century.

The extraordinary thing about the chronicle
is its entire simplicity. One might compare
it with the gossip of Dorothy Osborne or the
memoirs of another Highland lady of the
same clan, Mrs. Grant of Laggan, who told
the story of the Prince's arrival at Gortuleg
after CuUoden ; but it would be hard to
parallel the unadorned veracity. Miss
Grant of Eothiemurchus has no care for
the figure she cuts in the reader's eye.
She confesses to naive tastes in litera-
ture with absolute frankness ; she never
afEects interest or knowledge she does not
possess ; and she is quite open with
her dislikes. In its way the chronicle is a
very intimate one, for it tells the whole inner
history of a respectably important family,
tells it, too, with no omission of darker
scenes, till one is fairly forced into a lively
interest in the whole kin. We hear of the
early days in Lincoln's Inn Fields and of
the holidays at watering-places ; then of the
long years in the Highlands, varied with
seasons in Edinburgh and occasional jaunts
further south ; aud then, at the last, of the
money troubles, consequent upon an inju-
dicious union of Highland hospitality with
political ambition, of the Indian judgeship
for the father, and of the marriage of the
diarist, when " Eliza Grant " takes final
leave of us. It is not easy to separate the
purely literary qualities of the book from
the extraneous interest of the matter. The
style is without art, but direct, vivid, and
at times fired with a genuine emotion. Parts
might have been left out without hurting
the book ; but, as it was originally published
for the family, there is reason for its com-
pleteness. But even as it stands there is a
certain rough unity of effect in each part of
the memoirs, which is the product not of art
but of a faithful memory.

By far the best are the Eothiemurchus
chapters ; but the early days in England
were not without interest. The children
were brought up on a Spartan plan — up at
six, cold water summer and winter, and a
breakfast of porridge. But they were a set
of little madcaps even in those prim days,
and were none the worse for the training.
The long journeys between the Highlands
and London gave food for child's fancy. What
impressed the small Elizabetb in Edinburgh
was the " size and brightness and cleanliness
of the houses, and the quantity of gooseberries
to be bought for a penny." Nowadays the
houses are not particularly bright and clean,
and the present writer never found goose-
berries cheaper there than elsewhere. She
meets Lord Lovat, is much impressed, and
little wonder, for he was the good man who
persisted in believing himself a hen, and sat
hatching eggs by the hour in a nest which

he had made in his carriage. In 1810, she
went with her sister to Oxford to stay with
the Master of University, and a dreary
place she found it. " Two facts struck me,
young as I was, during our residence in
Oxford," she writes, "the ultra - Tory
politics and the stupidity and frivolity of
the society." She carried on a child's
flirtation with a young gentleman who
played the French horn ; and she was much
shocked by young Mr. Shelley :

" The ringleader in every species of mischief
within our grave walls was Mr. Shelley, after-
wards so celebrated, though I should think to
the end half-crazy. He was very insubordinate
at University, always infringing some rule, the
breaking of which he knew woSd not be over-
looked. He was slovenly in his dress, and
when spoken to about these and other irregu-
larities, he was in the habit of making such
extraordinary gestures, expressive of his
humility under reproof, as to overset first the
gravity and then the temper of the tutor."

Soon after, the whole family retired to
the Highlands for good, and the next few
chapters give a very pleasant account of life
at Eothiemurchus, where civilisation had
not yet wholly driven away old customs.
On the way to the North the father read
Child-e liar old (then newly out) to the
children :

' ' I was not given to poetry generally," says
the chronicler; "then, as now, it required
' thoughts that rouse and words that burn '
to affect me with aught but weariness ; but,
when, after a second reading of this passage
my father closed the pamphlet for a momeut,
saying, ' This is poetry ! ' I felt that he was
right and resolved to look the whole poem over
some day at leisure."

The whole tale of the journey is excel-
lently and freshly done ; and so, too, the
account of the simple household and its
retainers, among them

" old John Mackintosh who brought in all the
wood and peat for the fires, pumped the water,
turned the mangle, lighted the oven, brewed
the beer, bottled the whiskey, kept the yard
tidy, and stood enraptured listening to us
playing on the harp ' like Daavid ' I "

The Grants were a remarkable clan, for th(
cotters' and foresters' sons had a queei
habit of suddenly leaving home, anc
generally getting somehow or other t(
India, whence they returned Generals am
Baronets and men of fortune. Nothing,
indeed, in the whole book is so extra'
ordinary as the impression given of tk
vigour of these Highland adventurers, wh(
rarely returned from the great world beyom
the hills without some very substantia^
prize. Distinctions between classes, too
were not rigid in the North. Miss Gran
has a deep scorn of the English lower am
middle classes, but in Scotland all an
gentlefolk — a belief which prohaU'
originated in the clan feeling which bount
the humblest Grant to his chief. And
certainly, we find barefooted Highland girl
making great marriages, and every socia
barrier turned topsy-turvy.

There are many vivid little description:
of scene and life in these pages, for Mis'
Grant had a seeing eye and some skill u
words. Take this of the Highland kirk :

"The girls had a custom in the spring o
washing their beautiful hair with a deooctioi

Maech 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

341

of the young buds of the birch trees. I do not
know if it improved or hurt the hair, but it
agreeably scented the kirk, which at other times
was wont to be overpowered by the combined
odours of snufiF and peat-reek, for the men
snuffed immensely during the delivery of the
English sermon ; they fed their noses with quills
fastened by strings to the lids of their muUs ;
spooning up the snuff in quantities and without
waste. The old women snuffed too, and groaned
a great deal to express their mental sufferings,
their grief for all the blackslidings supposed to
be thundered at from the pulpit ; lapses from
j faith was their grand self-accusation, lapses
I from virtue were, alas ! little" commented on ;
I temperance and chastity were not in the High-
land code of morality."

' Both in the Highlands and in Edinburgh,

! where the family went in the season, there

was no lack of great folk to be seen. Across

'the river at Kinrara the famous Duchess of

Gordon — the friend of Bui-ns — entertained

I large house parties. The writer's comments

|on people are forcible and plain-spoken.

iShe objected to Lord Tweeddale because

I" he had that flat Maitland face, which

iwhen it once gets into a family, never can

jbe got out of it." The account of the old

jEdinburgh society is entertaining. She

blassifies it into sets — the exclusive, the

bard-playing, the quiet country-gentleman,

;he fashionable, and the literary. She met

ill varieties — the Jeffreys ; Sir David Brew-

iter ; the crazy Lord Buchan, who collected

uch relics as a tooth of Queen Mary's and

. bone of James the Fifth ; Harry Erskine ;

'ohn Clerk of Eldin (about whom she has

uany stories to tell) ; and Sir "Walter him-

elf. There is also a well-drawn portrait of

anning, whom she met in Holland. She

i most fearless in confessing her opinions.

he confesses that she found Waverley

itolerably dull. Peter the Great she

ought only a "lunatic barbarian " ; Cole-

dge, whom she met at Highgate, is " a

oor, mad poet, who never held his tongue,

ut stood pouring out a deluge of words

eaning nothing, with eyes on fire and his

Iver hair streaming down to his waist."

he chief thing that impressed her about

dward Irving was that he was " very

rty." She is severe on the two Sobieski

uarts, and is highly scornful about their

idigree ; but one might say something on

e other side. Her sister Jane goes to

Dbotsford on a visit :

the " Duke's Arms " at

every morning from
eight o'clock.' "

The other is told of Lord Eldin :

" Some one having died, a man of birth and
fortune in the West Country, celebrated in his
life for drawing pretty freely with the long-
bow, it was remarked that the heir had buried
him with much pomp, and had ordered for his
remains a handsome monument ; ' wi' an
epitaph,' said John Clerk, in his broadest
Border dialect ; ' he must hae an epitaph, an
appropriate epitaph, an' we'll change the ex-
ordium out o' respect. Instead o' the usual
Here lies, we'll begin his epitaph wi' Here
continues to lie.' "

GOSSIP OF THE GEEAT.

" Jane was in an ecstasy the whole time.

,• Walter Scott took to her, as who would
JJt ? They rode together on two rough ponies
Jh. the Ettrick Shepherd and all the dogs,
ai Sir Walter gave her all the Border legends,
ai she corrected his mistakes about the High-
lids." ^

We h :ve left ourselves little space to
qDte _ any of Miss Grant's stories. The
wk is uot all comedy, for the account of
ti final parting from Rothiemurchus has a
pietic simplicity which cannot fail to
nve the most casual reader. But the
p vailing tone is a cheerful one, and we
Wild take leave of the pleasant company
bj setting down two out of the many
e^ellent tales :

J A coach was started by some enterprising
peon to run from the 'Duke's Arms' at
Diikeld to Blair during the summer season.
Tl annovmcement read as foUows : ' Pleasing
in^ligence. The Duchess of Athol starts

Auld Lang Syne. By the Eight Hon. Prof.
F. Max Miiller. (Longmans, Green,
& Co.)

Notes from a Z>«rtry— 1873-1881. By the
Eight Hon. Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff.
2 vols. (John Murray.)

The Professor and the Politician of these
title-pages are new comrades, but old friends.
They have met in social life with frequency,
and they have played the part of guest and
of host to each other. One wrote his " Eecol-
lections " during a time of convalescence ;
the other kept a " Diary " ; and at the end,
strange to say, there is nothing in the
matter of actuality to choose between the
two books. The Diarist's notes are deliberate
and set, so far as tliey go ; you have no ten-
sion in reading them ; no pause, no delay
leading to a dramatic climax. It often
happens, indeed, that something is set down
of which you are not given the bare fact of
the sequel. That is the pitfall of the current
historian : dealing with familiar things, he
is discouraged by the fact of their familiarity,
and treats them merely fragmentarily where,
if he were an artist, he would treat them
sketchily.

Prof. Max Miiller's metliod gives him
the chance of appearing as a more or
less complete story teller. There is plenty
of entertainment to be got out of his
book by the casual reader, not always,
indeed, consciously provided by the Pro-
fessor. A man so eminent in his own
department of learning has a certain
borrowed interest, even when he is telling
the story of a sixpence won from the Prince
of Wales (a sixpence still carefully pre-
served), and of the thrilling moment when
the Prince laughed, at an Academy banquet,
while the Professor was speaking, and, for
the moment, put him out of countenance.
That pause seems to have been less awful
than the Professor feared, and may even
rank in history with Macaulay's " flashes of
silence," since Browning is quoted for the
assurance that it gave life to the speech.
The reader who can accustom himself to
a large tolerance for a German's attitude
towards Eoyalty, may yet lose patience
when music is discussed with a cock-sure-
ness of which one specimen is more than
enough. The Professor could " never learn
to enjoy Wagner, except now and then in
one of his lucid intervals." But lie is not

content with the mere confession. " Would
Mendelssohn have admired Wagner? Would
Beethoven have listened to his music, would
Bach have tolerated it ? Yet these were
musicians too." Of all futihties, that kind
of vacant surmise is surely the greatest.
The Professor boldly prints the mutton-
chop story, which has secured for his
name a severe omission from the pages
of Lord Tennyson's biography, and else-
where in the book is a canclour — some-
times a candour of partisanship — which
keeps the Tennyson reminiscences company.
The note of "I told you so " prevails ; and
such interviews as that which he had with
Darwin leave the reader's sympathy with the
evolutionist, whose blunders about origins
of speech the Professor was no doubt fully
competent to discover and declare. For one
must not forget, however tempted at times,
that a serious reputation has been earned by
the writer of these Eemiuiscences. They are
readable enough; they deal with men of
repute ; they range over wide fields ; but
they have their limitations in the writer's
own temperament. His are eyes that do not
see below the surface of things, and ears
that hear but do not overhear.

Sir Mountstuart Grant DuJEE has a more
understanding heart than his friend the
Professor, but perhaps not quite so cool a
head. All gentle things in men and women
are particularly dear to him. The sentiment
of Mrs. Craven's "Sister's Story" has
entered his bones : the allusions to it are
frequent and are charged with feeling.
Sir Mountstuart' s literary tastes are
given with some iteration — and the critic
may wish he was as certain about any-
thing as his Diarist is about everything. At
one time he is lamenting that he meets no
really good poetry ; and one at once recalls
what was being done at the time by Tenny-
son, Browning, and Eossetti. If these did not
sufiice for the Diarist he had, however, his
consolations. He quotes a good deal of
the verse of the Earl of Lytton, whose
house at Knebworth he hired. Also, one
day, he met the Archbishop of Dublin, who
" was quite full of a little gipsy song."
Archbishops ought to know; and Sir Mount-
stuart got the song "which deserves," he
says, " all that the Archbishop says of it " :

" ' If I were your little baby

And you were my mother old,
Would you give me a kiss, my darling P '

' Oh, sir, you are much too bold ! '
' But as you are not my mother.

And as I am not your son,' —
' Oh, that is a different matter ;

Maybe I'll give you one.' "

Another glimpse into the poetical preferences
of Governors of Madras. " Someone of
Tory opinions " read one day the following
acrostic :

" G was the great man-moimtain of mind,
L a logician expert and refined ;
A was an adept in rhetoric's art,
D was the dark spot he had in his heart ;
S was the subtlety led him astray,
T was the truth which he bartered away ;
O was the cypher his conscience became ;
N the new light which enlightened the same ;
E was the ovd one shouting with joy :

At it, and down with it, Gladstone, my
boy!"

342

THE ACADEMY.

[Maech 26, 1898

who
and

A yoiing lady, of Liberal opinions
heard these lines "went to a table'
wrote a counter-blast :
" G is the genius that governs the nation,
L is the lords that require education,
A is the animus raised by the great,
D is the donkeys who fear for the State,
S is the standard that Liberals raise ;
T is the Tories who howl in dispraise ;
O 's Opposition wanting a head,
N is the nation, not driven, but led ;
E is old England shouting for joy :
Stick to the Government, Gladstone, my
boy!"
It is this last version, puerile and irrelevant
of its own class, that the excellent Liberal
Privy Councillor stamps with his approval —
" an extremely clever acrostic."

Of another poet the Diarist makes
mention at this time, but in his capacity as
a journalist. " Among others with us to-
day at Hampden was Edwin Arnold, who
told us that the Daily Telegraph is at this
moment negotiating to buy Babylon."
"What next?" asked the amazed Diarist,
needlessly as it row seems. That was
twenty-five years ago, and the negotiations
are not yet completed.

Disraeli not only looked a sphinx, but be-
came one to observers of the Diarist's order.
Nevertheless, Sir Mountstuart manages to
give a good many anecdotes, though
mostly old ones, about " the Chief."
Some of the stories currently told are
here further authenticated by the naming
of the authorities for them. It was
to Lord Aberdare that the new Lord
Beaconsfield said he felt that he was dead,
but in the Elysian fields. Once Sir Mount-
stuart met Sir WiUiam Harcourt on his
way to Hughenden, whither Disraeli had
invited him, desiring, as he said, to have
the countenance of the staunchest Protestant
of his acquaintance at the re-opening of his
church — with its ritualistic rector. Our
Diarist should have seen Sir William after,
not before, the visit, about which he told
his friends some most excellent stories,
some of which we hope may have been
taken down ; but that is the luck of this
Diarist again and again. Plunket, once
Solicitor - General for Ireland, sat next
Disraeli when Mr. Biggar first rose to
address the House. "What is that
creature?" asked the Chief, and, on being
told, replied : " Oh, I thought it was a
Leprehaun, one of the things that come out
in the moonlight to dance with the fairies."
The old story of Disraeli's early saying that
he meant to be Prime Minister of England
is given here by Sir Mountstuart on the
authority of Venables, who had it from Mrs.
Norton, who herself introduced Disraeli to
Lord Melbourne, whose query, "What's
your ambition ? " called forth the reply
prophetic. "A political finishing-governess,"
was Disraeli's first impression of John Stuart
Mill. On another page we seem to have the
shadow of Robert Orange :

" Dined at the Athenieum with Butler
Johnstone. We talked much of Ealph Earle ;
his joining the Boman Communion upon his
death-bed, among other things. Balph Earle,
my sail with whom in his caique from Therapia
to the Simplegades remains among my most
poetical recollections, was one of the most
interesting Englishmen I have known in public

life. He passed into the Diplomatic service
under circumstances peculiarly creditable to
himself. He left to become Private Secretary
to Disraeli, who had completely fascinated his
hoyish imagination. Later he came iato Parlia-
ment, and was made secretary to the Poor Law
Board. The year after he quarrelled with
Disraeli, under circumstances of which I heard
an intelligible account this evening for the
first time, and left the Government with Lord
Sahsbury and Lord Carnarvon. He then took
to Financial Diplomacy, by which he made a
considerable sum of money. He had states-
manlike abilities of a higher order than almost
man on his side of politics, but he was

any

bom in the wrong century ; he ought to have

been the secretary, the confidential agent, and

at length, perhaps, the successful rival of

Albercni."

The real nature of the quarrel between the
Chief and his former devotee is, oddly,
but characteristically enough, withheld.

Sir Moxintstuart's Indian reminiscences
are not included in these volumes. But he
has notes on various Continental tours, in-
cluding a stay in Paris, where Mr. John
Morley presented him to Gambetta ; and he
met many Americans and had an apt ear for
their good sayings. Lowell, for instance,
speaking of English cathedrals at a break-
fast party, happily said : " Ely is like a
monster which has crawled out of the fens
and is sunning itself on the edge. Lichfield
is like a swan." It was a Swedish minister,
who, when there was gossip about a marriage
between the old Duchess of Sutherland and
Garibaldi, and when someone said : " Im-
possible, he has a wife already," retorted,
"Put up Gladstone to explain her away."
The Diarist had a large acquaintance,
not merely among Parliament men, but
among authors, ecclesiastics, and particularly
botanists, whose business was his pleasure.
His acquaintance with royalties is as large
as Prof. Max Miiller's, but is touched upon
more lightly. He should, however, pay the
Count de Flandre the compliment of spelling
his name correctly in a new edition ; where
also Schumann's name, instead of Schubert's,
should be printed as the composer of music
for Heine's " Beiden Grenadiere " ; and
where a French gender, on p. 272 of the
same volume, should have revision.

A NOTABLE BOOK.

Dreamers of the Ghetto. By Israel ZangwUl.
(WiUiam Heinemann.)

So long as the engine of international
finance remains under Jewish control ; so
long as public opinion is medicated by
Jewish influence exerted over the Press
of Europe ; so long as the Ghetto of
Poland and the Pale contain the saddest
millions on the earth's surface ; so long
will the Jews continue to be the most in-
teresting race among men. A people who
baffled the Pharaohs, foiled Nebuchadnezzar,
thwarted Eome, defeated feudalism, circum-
vented the EomanofEs, financed Columbus
in his discovery of America, baulked the
Kaiser, and undermined the third French
Republic, supplies ample reason for curiosity.
Exposed to constant social persecution and

to proselytisation at the hands of opulent
fanatics who have not the humour to
perceive that the spread of Christianity
among Christians would be the more appro-
priate object for their missionary activities,
the Jews are more often brought before the
notice of the public by painful incidents
than by the charm of a Hebrew personality,
or the achievements of a Jewish genius.

Mr. Zangwill has given us an exception
to this rule. In a weekly paper he
recently informed us that he was the son
of an East End Jew. Readers of the
Dreamers of the Ghetto will become ac-
quainted with a new attraction belonging
to the destitute alien and his descendants.
How many destitute immigrants from War-
saw or Berdicheff may be set off against Mr.
Zangwill's latest contribution to the delight
of the reading world, I cannot undertake
to say. No one can rise from reading the
Dreamers of the Ghetto without perceiving
that he has been in the presence of a master.
The majority of Mr. Zangwill's fifteen
stories are based on history. He has worked
the mine of Graetz, the historian of the Jews,
to good effect. He has sunk shafts into the
bed rock of that dull and industrious writer ;
and, without changing the material extracted,
has imparted to it an element peculiar to
himself alone. Mr. Zangwill is the prose
poet of atmosphere. He lifts the air from
the seventeenth century: he enables us to
breathe it. The blue skies of Smyrna, the
waters of Venice, the colour and form of
medisoval Rome, the aroma of Poland, of
Portugal, and of the Hague are reproduced,
not by a painstaking and conscientious
artist, but with the pencil of one touched
with the divine afflatus. How he does
it, and under what rules he produces
his effects, I do not know, but it is there.
Still, the genius is Oriental: Semitic, not
Aryan. The fires are lambent ; they illu-
minate, but do not warm. Perhaps one
reason is an inexplicable prolixity. In one
of the best of these stories, " A Child of the
Ghetto," is a paragraph of 252 lines of sohd
print ; but it is a paragraph that the school-
boys of 1898 would do well to learn by
heart.

The virtue of prosperity is temperance ;
the virtue of adversity is fortitude. The
Jew has always borne adversity with dis-
tinction. Prosperity, coupled with his
passionate desire to shine and the greed and
ignorance of Christians, is his curse, and
may yet be his ruin. Prosperity tfl_ the
Hebrew race seems to have a hereditMy
and baleful effect in killing spiritual fife.
The prosperous Jews of England and the
Continent look down, for the most part,
with contempt upon the yearning of ttie
poorer and persecuted members of their
race for the fulfilment of the Messianic
prophecies and the return to the Holy Land.
Whenever prosperity is alleged ag;aui8t
the Jews, the invariable rejoinder is to
point out the extreme poverty of the
majority of the race. In France the Jews
are one eight-hundredth of the population,
They own one quarter of the wealth of the
land. In England agricultural decay, im-
ported food, industrial inflation, congestea
cities, and a democracy impotent to provia
its own means of subsistence, form the sou

^Ita

March 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

343

upon which the Jews flourish, and constitute
an irresistible attraction to the persecuted
Hebrews of other lands. The Huguenot im-
migrants of 1685 were completely absorbed
in the population at the end of tlie second
generation. As much cannot be said of the
bulk of the English Jews. A few families,
as remarkable for public spirit and refine-
ment as for wealth, have given to English-
men some idea of what the Jew may become
when rooted in the country no less by affec ■
tion and patriotism than by interest. In
Austria-Hungary the Jew, Uke his brethren
all the world over, is an adept in the art of
" getting on." An Austrian friend said the
other day, " They have certainly all the
monej' and most of the brains." Mr.
Sidney Whitman says that were it not
for the kindly assistance of Jewish bankers
most of the noble manufacturers could
not carry on their business at all. The
Jews are all powerfully represented in
every walk of life that leads to influence
and fortune. The g^eat business houses,
the banks, such railways as are in private
hands, are all controlled by them. Mr.
ZangwiU himself asked the editor of the
Buda-Pesth newspaper, the Pesther Lloyd,
" Have you any Christians on your staff ? "
"I think we have one," was the editor's
reply.

In Russia and Poland the condition of the
Jewish race presents a vivid contrast to the
plethoric prosperity they have attained in
freer lands. Within the last few days a
deputation of Russian Jews have submitted
to the Minister of the Interior a memor-
andum in which it is demonstrated that the
present situation cannot be allowed to last
much longer. Over five millions of Jews,
who are increasing at four times the rate of
the Russians — themselves the most prolific
of civilised nations — are submerged in hope-
less misery from the sheer pressure of
existence. Seven years ago the conduct of
Russia was arraigned before the public
opinion of Europe in terms since applied to
Turkey for her treatment of the Armenians.
Russia has not altered her ways by a hair's
breadth, but there is a conspiracy to suppress
the actual state of misery suffered by the
Jewish millions imprisoned in the big Ghetto
of Central Europe, perhaps because when
Russia needed money she obtained it
from the Jews — £16,000,000 sterling were
guaranteed by Jewish firms. Excellent
excuses are advanced why the Jews supply
[subsidies to the Russian i^ersecutor; but
Ithe fact remains that the Jews in Eastern
jEurope are in a calamitous state of destitu-
rion and misery, that their agony attracts
jio attention, and that they are degenerating
jnorally, physically, and intellectually. Pros-
lerous Jews make no sign.

Under these circumstances the appearance
if such a book as the Drewmers of the
hetto is of service, not only to English
terature, but also to tiie suffering
ajority of a race destined to become pre-
ominant in the counsels of the world,
ything that attracts attention to the Jews
indirectly a benefit to the suffering
'ions of the Pale. The silent tragedy
at continues year after year is approaching
end, and it cannot be long before Russia
irself will be compelled to deal with the

Jewish question on statesmanlike lines.
Mr. Zangwill, though a chronicler of
dreamers, is too much an artist to be
himself the victim of sterile speculation.
The Jew hatred of the Russian Government
is fructifying : its harvest is at hand. That
the ripening process will be assisted by the
sunshine of Mr. Zangwill's genius is perhaps
the strongest tribute to the value of his
Dreamers of the Ghetto..

Arnold White.

PLAYS, ACTABLE AND OTHERWISE.

The Princess and the Butterfly. By Arthur
Wing Pinero. (Heinemann.)

Mncaire. By W. E. Henley and R. L.
Stevenson. (Heinemann.)

Godefroi and Tolande. By Laurence Irving.

(Lane.)

Hernani. By Victor Hugo. Translated
into English Verse by R. Parquharson
Sharp. (Richards.)

The accidents of the publishing season
have brought it about that four plays,
representing widely different dramatic
methods and schools, have reached us more
or less at the same moment. Two of them —
Mr. Pinero's The Princess and the Butterfly,
and Mr. Laurence Irving's Godefroi and
Yolande — are now published for the first
time. Of the others, Messrs. Henley and
Stevenson's Macaire is already known to
those who are interested in what is called
" Literary Drama," while Victor Hugo's
Hernani, which Mr. R. F. Sharp has
attempted to render into English blank
verse, is well known alike on the stage
and in the study, and must always retain
its interest for students of literature, if
only as the first-fruits of "1830," and the
Romantic movement in French drama.

AU who are interested in the revival
of dramatic art in England must rejoice
at the modem fashion of publishing
plays which is now in vogue among
our leading playwrights. For almost any
dramatist would hesitate to publish a con-
fessedly iU-written pla}'. Time was when
very slipshod writing was held to be
good enough for the English stage. A
harrowing situation or two, or a certain
amount of spirited horse-play, were supposed
to be all that was required to hold a London
audience, and all the more delicate qualities
of dramatic work were neglected. In the
last few years there has been an imdeniable
improvement in this respect. Plays are written
with greater care, if not always with greater
skill. Characters are studied from the life,
and delineated with some approach to
fidelity, instead of merely following tra-
ditional lines, and serving simply as pegs on
which to hang well-worn situations. In
dialogue a certain literary quality is at
least aimed at, though no doubt seldom
completely attained; and in general the
standard of play-writing in these and
similar matters has certainly risen. Even
the modem farce is not always the wholly

contemptible thing from the literary stand-
point that it was a dozen years ago.

But dramatic critics have not been slow to
point out the danger which lies in this modern
tendency. In a play, after all, the essential
thing is "action," and it is only in so far
as it ministers to "action" that dialogue
is effective on the stage. If its literary
quality is allowed to interfere with this the
play fails, and the dialogue, from the
dramatic point of view, fails also.

To cast all convention whatsoever to
the winds, and try to write dialogue
and construct situations without reference
to the special needs of the stage must
lead to disaster. Mere beauty or pro-
fundity or wit of dialogue, or mere fidelity
to life, may be effective in a novel. It may
be read for its own sake irrespective of its
precise bearing on the plot. But on the
stage other factors must be taken into
account which are not present in the writing
of a novel, and none of them can be safely
disregarded. What the writer of modern
comed}-, therefore, has to find, if he takes
his art and the stage seriously, and desires
to be acted as well as to be read, is a style
which shall produce the illusion of ordinary
spoken speech to the audience while, at the
same time, it retains a certain literary
finish which, in actual conversation, is
rarely if ever found.

Very often a kind of dialogue which is
delightful in a novel — Mr. Henry James's,
for example — is quite lost on the stage.
There are some people who, realising this,
and realising also how effective mere fustian
and declamation often are in the theatre,
despair altogether of the drama as a literary
form, and declare that literary excellence is
incompatible with modern theatrical effective-
ness ; but it by no means follows, because
merely literary dialogue is ineffective on the
stage, that the dramatist for stage purposes
must throw all literary quality to the
winds and fall back upon artificial or con-
ventional rant.

Mr. Pinero has realised this, and in many
of his plays, most of all, perhaps, in The
Notorious Mrs. Ehhsmith, his dialogue,
while unquestionably effective on the stage,
has also a real literary quality. And in
The Princess and the Butterfly, though
it is neither the most dramatic nor the
most literary of his dramas, there is still to
be found a good deal of writing which
combines these qualities. Mr. Pinero, in
fact, has hit upon the secret of that via
media between purely literary and purely
theatrical dialogue which satisfies at once
the audience in the theatre and the reader
in the study. In other respects his most
recently published play is hardly so satis-
factory. The plot, as he works it out, is
not in itself dramatic, and there is next to
no action. The construction, for so practised
a dramatist, is curiously weak. Moreover, if
it be true that the first duty of a comedy is to
excite emotion, The Princess and the Butter-
fly must be held to fail, for it calls forth
neither laughter nor tears. Its interest is
purely intellectual, while it is not sufficiently
fantastic to amuse by the mere humour of
character and situation, as another of Mr.
Pinero's plays, The Amazons, succeeded in
doing.

344

THE ACADEMY.

[Mabch 26 1898.

Of the Henley- Stevenson Maeaire it may
be said that it has more dramatic possi-
bilities in it than any other play which
these two men of letters produced. Indeed,
it has more than one scene which even the
most practised playwright could not improve
upon. But, unhappily, for theatrical pur-
poses, only certain classes of play can be
produced with any hope of success, and a
" melodramatic farce " is not one of these.
Laughter and blood do not combine happily
on the stage, and at the theatre death at
least must be always serious. The death of
Maeaire at the end of the third act is a very
effective stage climax; but it is lead up
to by extravaganza as farcical as even Mr.
Gilbert could conceive, and is out of tune
with the rest of the play. Much of the
dialogue is admirably written, and the
character of Maeaire is conceived in so
masterly a fashion that we believe a
melodrama might yet be written round
him if the surviving author would consent
to eliminate the farcical element in his
drama.

Mr. Laurence Irving is an interesting
figure among the younger dramatists, and
his "Mediffival Drama in One Act," Oodefroi
and Yolande, though it is by no means a
finished work of art, is worth reading. The plot
is founded on a story which must be familiar
to all English lovers of poetry, from Mr. Swin-
burne's poem " The Leper." The play is
written after the manner of M. Maeterlinck,
and is more in the nature of a literary
exercise than an original dramatic effort.
Mr. Irving has evidently felt the fascination
of M. Maeterlinck's dialogue, and he has
studied with some success the methods — we
may even say the tricks — by which he pro-
duces his effects ; but that, after all, is not
very difficult to do, and though imitation is
the sincerest flattery, it is by no means the
highest form of art. From a literary point
of view, his style is distinctly curious. It is
printed as prose, and apparently Mr. Irving
means it to be considered as prose, but a
considerable part of it might just as well
have been printed as blank verse. Here is one
passage of many which might be so treated
without the alteration of a single word :

" GODEFEOI : "What am I here ?

I am Sir Dolorous ! Sir Long-visage !

Meoaede : Thy father poor he was, but he
was proud !

QoDEFBOi : Sad am I here ; sadder were I
elsewhere.
I am one made to suffer and eat out
My heart in hopeless hope.

Meoakse : Come hence, come hence !

GODEFHOi : No ; leave me, mother, here !

Meoarde : Son, leave thee here ?

Thou wouldst not stay here. Then —

GoDEFROI : I cannot hence.

Meoabde : What can thus keep you here ?
You love this life ?

GoDEFROi : Not I— I hate this life !

Meoaede : What is it then P

GoDEFKOl : Oh, leave me, ask mo not !

Meoaede : I charge thee speak.

My son, I am thy mother."

One can with difficulty suppose that this
is accidental, though it is of course possible
that Mr. Irving did not realise how closely
his prose followed the rhythm of blank verse,
and that his marked preference for the

iambic foot was merely an imconscious echo
of Shakespeare's verse structure. But Mr.
Irving' s prose has other and more serious
faults than tliis tendency to become verse. Its
grammar and syntax are not always faultless
and its mannerism is apt to lead to very
serious obscurity of diction. But the play
shows a grasp of dramatic method and a
knowledge of how to work up to an effective
situation.

Of Mr. Sharp's Eernani one can only
say that it is a straightforward, fairly com-
petent piece of work. The difficulty of
translating Hugo's lines into English blank
verse can hardly be exaggerated, and the result
cannot be called poetry. "When this is said
it can be easily understood that the beauty
of the original has mainly disappeared in
the translation.

WAE COEEESPONDENCE.

The Indian Frontier War : being an Account of
the Mohmtmd and Tirah Expeditions, 1897.
By LionelJames. (Heinemann.)

Me. James was Eeuter's special war corre-
spondent in the recent Mohmund and Tirah
expeditions, and apparently the contents of
this book are founded on, if they are not verbal
repetitions of, the despatches he sent home
in that capacity. We have here, therefore,
a very matter-of-fact account of the recent
frontier fighting. Mr. James teUs the story
without subjecting it to any literary process
that might enhance its effect. We do not
complain of this ; the book admirably fulfils
its purpose, that of recording in daily detail
the events and movements of these expedi-
tions to quell the revolt. But the technical-
ities which the ordinary man is content to
swallow in the newspaper are apt to tire
him in a book ; and we think that Mr.
James's work will be fully appreciated only
by soldiers and men with Indian experience.
The public wearied of the war while it was
yet in progress. In truth, the thrilling
story of Dargai was the one event that
relieved a daily dribble of small actions and
short disheartening death-lists. Instinc-
tively one turns to Mr. James's account of
that red rush up hill. Here is part of it :

" The signal was given, the guns boomed out
their salvoes, and the chff was crowned with a
semi-circle of bursting shrapnel ; then the final
order came — a momentary pause — and the
officers of the Gordons rushed over the nullah.
The pipes rolled out the slogan, and with tight-
clenched teeth the Highlanders burst into the
open. It was an awful two minutes. The
length of the exposed zone was swept with a
leaden stream, and the dust of the striking
bullets half hid the advancing men. The head
of the upper column melted away, but a few
struggled on, and there were more to take the
places of the fallen. Out over the cover came
the kilted soldiers, the Sikhs, Dorsets, Derbys,
Gurkhas, in spasmodic rushes as the fire
slackened, and the cover halfway was won. A
moment for breath, and the men were up again.
Another terrible rush, another medley of strug-
gling men and writhing figures, and the three
companies of Gurkhas were reached."

Mr. James warmly protests against the

charge of incapacity which has been brought
against the officers of the Tirah field force.
" Inefficient transport," he asserts, was the
cause of the weakness, and the blame — the
Indian Government's. We cannot say that
he proves this ; but he demonstrates the
enormous difficulties which beset any trans-
port arrangements on the frontier. At one
time General Lockhart had a train of no
fewer than 71,800 animals under his control!
Mr. James elsewhere remarks that in this
class of warfare

"it is the wounded who are the cause of
disaster. A wounded man at once means six
men out of the fighting line, four to carry the
casualty, and one to carry the rifles of the
carrying party. Five casualties at once reduce
a company to so small a number that they
become insufficient to keep the enemy's fire
down, and then follows one of these deplorable
incidents in which oiu- frontier fighting is so
prolific."

By the way, Mr. James's use of the word
" casualty " in the above passage indicates
the rather frozen style in which his book is
written. It is Eeuter between covers.

Th« Story of the ilalakand Field Force: an
Episode of Frontier War. By Winston
L. Spencer Churchill, Lieut. 4th Queen's
Own Hussars. (Longmans.)

TuEEE is but one fault to find with Lieut.
Spencer Churchill's book, and since that is
both small and singular it shall be kept till
the end. It will be remembered that last
July, when the news was flashed abroad
that Malakand and Chakdara were invested
by the fanatical tribesmen of the Swat Valley,
the Indian Government ordered the prepara-
tion of a Field Force, under the command of
Sir Bindon Blood, for the relief of these
posts. Lieut. Churchill was attached to that
force — as a non-combatant, it is to be
supposed — and wrote letters home to the
Daily Telegraph, descriptive of the marching
and the fighting. These letters have been
shuffled, redacted, and added to, and the
result is before us, and a very admirable
and inspiriting result it is. It is plain that
Lieut. Churchill has inherited much of the
dash and intellectual quality of his father,
the late Lord Eandolph Churchill. He may
not be a speaker, as his father was, hut he
is a writer of more than promise — in fact,
of excellent perforaance. He has mani-
festly a clear eye in his head, which can
observe very swiftly and closely, and a great
gift of language with which to express what
he sees. From the very first paragraph
one is delighted with the exercise of his
faculty :

"All along the north and north-west
frontiers of India lie the Himalayas, the
greatest disturbance of the earth's surface
that the convulsions of chaotic periods have
produced. . . . The Himalayas are not slrne,
but a great country of mountains. Standmg
on some loftv pass or commanding point m
Dir, Swat, orBajaur, range after range is seen
as the long surges of an Atlantic swell, andm
the distance some glittering snow-peak suggests
a white-crested roller yet higher than tne
rest. ..."

And so on. That is as good an impres-
sionistic picture in words as need he aaked
for of one who is not a professional scnbe

Mahcii 26, 1898. J

THE ACADEMY.

345

and it renders the effect of the Himalayas
better than any description we can remember.
It is little to the point to say (as a querulous
purist may) that, in the last sentence quoted,
"standing" ought to have another subject
than " range " to agree with. Lieut.
Churchill is a soldier, not a schooltiaster,
and we know what lie means ; if the present
participle "standing" ventures to demand
another subject of the sentence than the one
given it, then aU the worse for the present
participle. But it is not over participles
and subjects that Lieut. Churchill is so
frequently coming to grief, but — of aU
small things in writing — over the use of
commas. Why is he so madly generous in
bestowing them? Here is a short sentence,
which will serve as well as a long one to
illustrate what we mean :

" Here the weapons of the nineteenth century,
are in the hands of the savages, of the Stone
Age."

In that sentence no commas are needed at
all. Can it be that Lieut. ChurchiU. has
punctuated with an ear for reading aloud,
rather than with an eye for sense and struc-
ture 'i Or, does he think that commas do not
matter, and so the more the merrier ?

BRIEFER MENTION.

The Stori/ of Perugia. By Margaret Symonds
and Lina Duff Gordon. Illustrated by
M, Helen James. (J. M. Dent & Co.)

HEEE is a dainty book to lure you
to Italy. It comes, the first of a
series of " Mediaeval Towns." Lavender
ind gold for the cover. The thin paper
is tender to the finger, and the drawings
Imprison the sunshine of last year. It is
vritten, too, this book ; who could, who
lare, mar a theme like Perugia? Infinite
pemories of art and war brood in her
[treets, caress her torrid walls, and calm
[he faces of her women. Perched on the
limit of a long ridge, Perugia is hardly a
lity of this world :

All the winds and airs of heaven play and
ish round her walls in summer and winter,
he Sim beats down upon her roofs; one seems
) see more stars at night, above her ramparts
lan one sees in any other town one knows of."

place to grow well, after London. The
'mbrian plain, green with corn and "pink
lith sainfoin flowers," lies below ; and far
jivay, each in its setting of verdure, wliite-
dUel Assisi, white-walled Spello, white-
ailed Foligno, twinkle with their own
ippiness. At night, the moon on the Tiber
draws your fancy down to Eome." And
ell may the writer fill the strange silence
\ this adorable eyrie with the questions :

"Where are the Becchemi, and where are
Kaspanti ? Are the Baglioni really dead,
d the Oddi, where are they ? Aid the
ageUauts and the Penitent! — have even their
Sosts departed ? Will not a pope ride in at
y gates with his nephews and his cardinals
*i take up peaceful quarters in the grim
(jnonica? Will not some war-like Abbot

come and batter down the church towers to
build himself a palace ? Will no procession
pass us with a banner of BonfigU, and women
wailing that the plague should be removed ? "

Never, save in the dreams of those who are
dreamers bom. But for ourselves, we hope
soon again to cross the Piazza of Saint
Lorenzo, and drink from that fountain that
was " ever dear as the apple of their eye
to the people of Perugia."

Trialogues. By WUliam Griffiths. (Kansas :
Hudson-Kimberley Publishing Co.)

Nothing that can give distinction to a book
has been omitted by the publishers of this
little work. The edition is limited to 250
copies, of which ours is 100 ; there are more
blank end-papers than any volume ought to
have ; the covers are of warehouse paper ;
the design thereon has no relation to the
contents ; and the prefatory note is an
exercise in fantastic printing. In it the
author speaks of his work as an attempt to
introduce the old form of Elizabethan
dialogue into America. He might probably
more accurately have substituted John
Davidsonian for EUzabethan, because Tria-
logues instantly strikes one as an American
adaptation of the Fleet-street Eclogues. Mr.
Griffiths, however, has thoughts of his own,
and considerable rhyming skill, and his is a
pleasant little book, with now and then a
really invigorating Line. Here is a brisk
little snatch :

" The city holds for some, mayhap,
A jolly Ufe, but O,
As early Spring forefeels the sap
Awaken through the snow.
Give me the sturdy roving foot,
Then with a shoiddered load,
When Hope brings in an easy boot,
I sing the open road."

Cycling. (Lawrence & Bullen.)

This slender volume is a reprint, with some
modifications, of the article on "Cycling"
in The Encyclopedia of Sport. Three authors
are concerned in the work : Mr. H. Graves,
who takes the general and mechanical
section ; Mr. Lacy HiUier, who discusses
racing; and the Countess of Malmesbury,
who has views on cycling for women.
Together they make a very practical and
informing trio. The story of the first
bicycle ride from London to Brighton hath
now an antiquated ring, though it occurred
less than thirty years ago. Mr. Mayall was
hero. He started one morning early in
January, 1869, but on reaching Redhill — a
distance of 17-J miles — he had to give up,
completely exhausted . ' ' After more practice,
he, in company with Eowley Turner and
Charles Spencer, made a second attempt in
the following February ; and though his
companions fell by the way, he succeeded
in reacliing Brighton alone in about sixteen
hours. The feat was the subject of some
public comment at the time, but as some
three weeks later the brothers Chinnery
widked to Brighton in eleven hours and
twenty-five minutes, the advantages of the
new steed, as demonstrated by Mr. Mayall's
heroic efforts, were considerably discounted."
And to-day the ride is within the compass
even of rural deans !

The Royal Household. By W. A. Lindsay,
Q.C., " Windsor Herald." (Kegan Paul
&Co.)

This sumptuous quarto deals with the sixty
years of the present reign, and forms a
chronicle, not of the whole of what is techni-
cally known as the Eoyal Household, but of
those more intimate members of it who, in
the words of the dedication, " have had the
honour to wait upon Her Majesty's person."
The bulk of the volume consists of bio-
graphical notices, alphabetically arranged,
of lords, glooms, and equerries-in-waiting,
ladies and women of the bed-chamber, maids
and pages of honour, and similar Court
functionaries. These are preceded by a brief
introduction, by a classified list of the suc-
cessive holders of each office, and by a table
showing the tenure of the Parliamentary
posts during the various administrations of
the reign. The work is done with great
elaboration and, on the whole, commendable
accuracy. But surely Mr. Arthur Lyttelton
cannot have taken orders " on leaving Her
Majesty's Household," if, as the compiler
states, the pages of honour resign their posts
at the age of sixteen years and a half. In
the introduction, "Windsor Herald" points
out how desirable a thing a complete history
of the Royal Household would be. We are
almost tempted to wish that his knowledge
and industry had been devoted to such a
task instead of the present catalogue. A
similar account of the succession of Court
officials during the reign, say, of Eliza-
beth would be invaliiable to the
student of history ; whereas much of this
treatise merely repeats matter already avail-
able in the pages of G. E. C.'s great peerage
and the London Gazette. From the Gazettt
"Windsor Herald" reprints in an appendix
complete accounts of a number of Eoyal
ceremonials, beginning with the Coronation
and ending with the wedding of the Duke of
York. It is loyal reading.

Historic New York. Edited by Maud Wilder
Goodwin, Alice Carrington Eoyce, and
Euth Putnam. (Putnam's.)

This is not a continuous treatise, but a
series of monographs, originally published
month by month under the title of the
" Half-Moon Papers," for the students of
that flourishing New Tork institution — the
City History Club. The obj ect of the editors
has been to throw light upon the early stages
of their City's famous story, upon the period
now almost passing into the legendary, the
pioneer settlements upon the Manhattan
Island, the struggles which preceded the
conversion of New Amsterdam into New
York. Their method is to isolate individual
aspects of that forgotten life, or to trace in
detail the fortunes of some particular build-
ing or locality now absorbed in the vast
parallelograms of the modern metropolis.
The writers appear thoroughly competent
to their task ; they have spared no pains in
the unearthing of historic records, and they
tell their tales with sympathy and taste.
Buncombe is conspicuous by its absence.
Where all are good, we have been par-
ticularly interested by Miss Alice Morse
Earle's study of "The Stadt Huys of New
Amsterdam," with its picture of Uie choleric

346

THE ACADEMY.

|Maeoh 26, 1898.

overbearing Dutch governor — Peter Stuy-
vesant. Very excellent, too, is Mr. Durand's
narrative of the contest for the supremacy
over city finance between Stuyvesant and
the burgomasters, in his paper on "The
City Chest of New Amsterdam." Other
notable contributions are those by Miss Euth
Putnam on " Annetje Jan's Farm," and by
Mr. and Mrs. Hewitt on " The Bowery."
This savoury quarter was originally the site
of a number of Dutch "bouweries," or
arms, whence the name. The volume is
adorned with a number of particularly
well reproduced illustrations, most of them
showing quaint specimens oJE Dutch archi-
tecture, with fascinating " crow- step " gables
A second series of the " Half- Moon Papers,"
is promised by the editors, and we shall
await it with interest.

Goldfields and Chrysanthenmms. By Catherine
Bond. (Simpkin, Marshall & Co.)

These notes of travel in Australia and
Japan are the outcome of a diary, the wish
of friends for its publication, and a con-
sciousness on the part of the writer that an
unprinted journal is a violation of the laws
of nature. The book is in no sense litera-
ture, but its descriptions of joumeyings in
Western Australia, and its pictures of life
in Japan will serve "to while away an hour
or 80," and thus fulfil the modest ambition
of the writer. It is attractively bound,
beautifully printed, and well illustrated.
The reader is gently led through the
monotonous scenery of "Western Australia;
camps in the Bush ; introduced to Cool-
gardie and the goldfields; meets trains of
camels on the march ; and suffers the shock
of encountering a man on a bicycle in
regions sacred to desolation and lack of
water. The authoress has an extraordinary
partiality for the word " so." It is worked
from the beginning to the end of the book
with inexorable pertinacity. Thus :

" Our pace is so slow, and the sun so near
the horizon, that when we arrive at the Gardens
we decide only to take a hurried look round,
not staying to see the curator; so we soon turn
to jog back again, feeling very disappointed.
. . . They are so erect ... It does not signify
«o much, ... go we dismiss the machine."

These extracts are culled from one page.

Thomas Best Jervis. By W. P Jervis
(Eliot Stock.)

This book is " A Centenary Tribute," edited
by a son of the subject of the memoir.

" Thomas Best Jervis's estimate of the vital
importance of geography to mankind in every
possible walk of human activity was one which
it would be difficult, if not impossible, to surpass.
... He viewed geology, botany, ethnography,
statistics, and numerous other sciences, as
transformed into adjective forms subservient to
geography, so as to become geological, botanical,
ethnographical, statistical geography."

To a reader consumed by a like passion this
book will possess elements of interest.
Having passed a brilliant examination at
Addiscombe Military College, young Jervis
was enrolled as ensign in the Bombay Engi-
neer Corps on June 1, 1813, and from that
time to his death, in 1857, the interests of
India— geographical, spiritual, moral, and

educational — possessed him. He began
his geographical surveys in Southern
Konkan in 1823, and the results of his
labours met with unstinted praise from
his superior oflB.cer8. In addition to the
accounts of the geographic and litho-
graphic undertakings, which constituted his
life work, extracts are given from his
speeches at Bible Society meetings, and at
Exeter Hall gatherings, together with a
voluminous correspondence, addressed to
Government officials, private friends, and
members of his own family. Eminent as
Lieutenant-Colonel Jervis was in ability and
sterling piety, he was singularly lacking in
humour and sense of proportion, as witnessed
by his letters to his children. They are
indeed didactic ! The only humour in
the book is unintentional.

The Fern World. (New Edition.) By
Francis George Heath. (The Imperial
Press, Ltd.)

This bounteous volume is a storehouse of in-
formation on the habits and habitats of each
member of the British fern family. It does
not come before the reader seeking recog-
nition. It has already "been sold in every
English - speaking coimtry in the world."
For some time out of print, it is now re-
issued in an eighth edition at "a popular
price." The volume is divided into five
parts: "The Fern World " ; " Fern Culture,"
under which head suggestions and practical
instruction are given ; " Fern Hunting " ;
" Some Eambles through Fern Land " ; and
"British Ferns : their Description, Distribu-
tion, and Culture." This last division, which
comprises the greater part of the book, is
illustrated by delicately coloured plates, and
the fern collector and would-be cultivator
will find herein every assistance. Under the
heading of " Eambles through Fern Land,"
the reader is led through the coombes and
over the downs of Devon, the home of so
many beautiful specimens of fern life. For
the casual student, as well as for the
specialist, the book will be found in-
valuable.

The Hktory of the Great Northern Railway,
1845-1895. By Charles H. Grinling.
(Methuen & Co.)

Mr. Gbinling's book tells us in almost too
minute detail of the early struggles of the
London and York Eailway (the nucleus of the
Great Northern) before Parliamentary Com-
mittees. The broad fact is, that owing to the
attempts of " King " Hudson and his fellow-
monarchs to strangle the infant at its birth,
and the seventy days' fight in "one of the
smallest of the wooden sheds in which,
pending the completion of the new Houses
of Parliament, Private Bill Committees were
condemned to meet," nearly half a million
of money was sunk in preliminary expenses.
Fortunately, most of the original share-
holders were substantial people, and not
mere " stags," like a certain "poor brother
of the Charterhouse," who, though his
yearly income, derived from pensions, was
under £100 a year, had contracted for (and
disposed of at a premium) a large quantity
of stock.

The obstructiveness of rival companies
did not end in the Parliamentary Committee-

rooms, but was exhibited in ways of almost
incredible pettiness. The station authorities
at Eetford refused to supply water there to
the Great Northern engines, so as to hamper
the through service between Peterborough
and Leeds ; and at Grimsby blocks were
placed across the rails to prevent the Great
Northern using the running powers to which
it was entitled. On one occasion the Great
Northern passengers reached the Humber
ferry only to find that the last boat had
been purposely sent away without them, and
had to spend the night in the railway
carriages or on sofas at the station; on
another a Great Northern engine which
had dared to show its buffers in Notting-
ham was hunted by a posse of Midland
engines, as if it had been a wild elephant,
and after a desperate struggle captured, and
interned in a disused shed, whence it was
not released for seven months. At Man-
chester the North- Western and Sheffield
companies had a station in common.
Nevertheless,

"the North -Western authorities began to
take people into custody for coming by the
Sheffield trains into the Manchester station;
they frightened an old lady out of her wits and
distracted several feeble people ; but at last
they got hold of a lawyer, who showed them
they had ' caught a tartar ' ; and so after that
no more passengers were apprehended."

It is difficult to realise that these in-
cidents, which might have come out of one
of Mr. Gilbert's comic operas, should have
taken place in connexion with such a
prosaic business as railway - management
seems to us nowadays. Fortunately for the
Great Northern, it had in these troublous
times an exceptionally strong chairman in
Mr. Edmund Denison, who, like his son
after him (the jiresent Lord Grimthorpe),
was a " bonny fighter." The biggest storm
he ever weathered was at the half yearly
meeting in August, 1857, after the dis-
covery that Leopold Eedpath, the registrar
of the company, had robbed it of over
£200,000 by creating fictitious stock.

After that the most noteworthy occurrences
in the life of the Company have been a few
bad accidents — notably that at Abbot's
Eipton in 1876, when three trains collided
and thirteen people were killed, and that at
Canonbury in 1881, when no fewer than
four trains were in collision in a tunnel and
six people were killed ; and the races to
Edinburgh and Aberdeen, in 1888 and 1895
respectively, which are stUl fresh in the
public memory. The Great Northern has
not of late years been the most financially
prosperous of railway comijanies, but it has
remained one of the most enterprising. Its
history deserved to be written, and it has
lost nothing in Mr. Grinling's able hands.
Everyone who is interested in railways
should read his book.

An Eton Bibliography. By L. V. Harcourt,
(Swan Sonnenschien.)

This has few claims to be considered a
scientific bibliography. It is rather a liand-
list of Etoniana, mainly drawn from the
author's own collection. The majority
of the items directly concern the college;
a few are works of genertd Literature of
Eton master?, and should have been omitted.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, MARCH 26, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.
'he Potentate. By Frances Forbes Eobertson.

A steel-bright romance of the Middle Ages. The hero, Everard
'al Demement, is introduced as a pretty boy, with a girl's face and

man's spirit. A murdered father is ever before his eyes. The
verthrow of his murderer, the tyrant Duke of Bresali, is the
bjective ; and this comes by way of postern doors, and flashing
lades, and passages of love and adventure, and all the parapher-
alia of romance, marshalled by a skilled hand. (A. Constable &
b. 312 pp. 68.)

HE Strength of Two.

By EsMf; Stuart.

Miss Stuart's stories are popular favourites, and this should dis-
ppoint none of her admirers. It belongs to the temperately
msational class, and is told with the maximum of dialogue,
hero are a gambler, and his daughter Joy, and a young squire,
r Ivor, and a dwarf, and an eccentric and rich old aunt, and —
eU., there are all the characters convention can demand. The
ory is full of spirit. (F. V. White. 296 pp. 6s.)

IE Catti^ Man.

By G. B. Burgin.

The adventures of an artist brought up to active misogyny by a
iimadian priest. On crossing to England in a cattle-boat he for-
ties his creed. A blending of serious sentiment and humour of
le school to which Mr. Burgin belongs. Of PiccadUly Circus at
ibht it is said : " The whole scene required a Whistler to paint it —
tb Christ to sweep it away." Of a cattle-drover who has been
tbown overboard : "It was evident that his system had received a
ajck, owing to the quantity, and quality, of the unfamiliar beverage
Miich he had just swallowed." A very good-humoured tale.
(rant Eichards. 246 pp. 6s.)

Inthornb. By Charles H. Eden.

_ ^Ir. Eden describes his novel as the " Story of a Fool." Bunthome
ifiertainly a fool as the world judges ; but then he is not far from
bng one of "God's fools." Moreover, he becomes blind, and the
a hor's underlying purpose is to hint at the gratitude which the
b id feel towards all who help them in little ways. A sincere piece
o:TOrk. (Skeflangton «& Son. 279 pp. 3s. 6d.)

Te Induna's Wife. By Bertram Mitford.

^his 'tale is told to Nkose, by Untuswa, after a strong dose of
tM ala. Untuswa is an induna who took for principal wife Lalusini,
tq sorceress, in whose veins ran the fuU blood of the House of
ngakona. The consequences of this marriage make the book ;
11 we recommend to all who like excitement wedded to Zulu
W(d8, and to none who do not. Mr. QuiUer-Couch, who loves dialect,
sUM enjoy it. (F. V. White. 300 pp. 6s.)

T] wiNNOT OF Guy's.

By Mrs. Coulson Kbrnahan.

^ medical novel. Mrs. Kemahan, who is the author of The
• of Rimmon and A Laggard in Love, brings Bob Sawyer and Ben
i up to date. Now and then, indeed, the book is not a little
Dijcensian, especially in the character of Mrs. Pippin. " They're
pi^lin' Spanishers," says tliis lady, " and many a time that Saul
ha^sat down to eat them, and rolled them around his lyin' tongue,
a-ayin' to me as there was no one like me for getting things into
a ijkle sharp." (Bowden. 325 pp. 6s.)

D^RER THAN Honour. By E. Livingston Prescott.

jie author of Sairlet and Bteel, having done with flogging in the
arv, now turns his attention to prisons. This is the story of a
we bred man who, with some reason, becomes a thief, and is im-
pn|.ned. It is a sad, unrelieved tragedy. Here is the hero's

description : ' ' Ord's head, covered with close, crisp rings of flaxen
hair, was big like his body, and solidly set on a solid throat. His
features were passably regular, but uninteresting, though a pent-house
of yellow moustache, hanging low, softened the stubborn outlines
of a long upper lip and square chin," and so on. (Hutchinson
& Co. 367 pp. 6s.)

Chiefly Concerning Two. By Alan Scott.

This is the story of a Harley-street doctor who, feeling convinced
that there are beneath the surface of society manifold social grades
of whose nature and peculiarities he is ignorant, settles down in a
village as Eobert Crispin, cobbler ; and then come love and frus-
tration. The doctor found love a pleasant interlude to a disserta-
tion on the evolution of the streptococci. A quite readable tale.
(Digby, Long & Co. 200 pp. 3s. 6d.)

Humphry: a Tradition.

By E. Mendham.

This story is woven out of ignorant beliefs, some of which linger
in attenuated forms in remote country districts of England. The
hero, Humphry Stoly, is regarded as a wizard with malefic influence.
Much of the story turns upon the search by credulous vUlagers, and
a credulous parson, for a fairy hoard of treasure. A clever
dramatisation of exploded rural superstitions. (Hutchinson & Co.
368 pp. 6s.)

The Marquis of Valrose. By Charles Foley.

The story is translated from the French, and it is a thoroughly
readable, though not remarkable, romance of the revolutionary
times in France. Opens in the little town of Sauges, in
La Vendee, in 1799; and lovers, gendarmes, marchionesses, and
the like keep the ball rolling. (C. A. Pearson Ltd. 283 pp.
3s. 6d.)

The Virgin of the Sun. By George Griffith.

A good tale of the conquest of Peru. Mr. Griffith urges that
it is curious no historical novelist has done for the Conquest
of Peru what Mr. Lew Wallace, in America, and Mr. Eider
Haggard, in England, have done for the Conquest of Mexico.
To obtain local colour Mr. Grifiith went to Peru, and nearly all the
characters in his story are historical. A stirring romance in which
the marvellous hardly exceeds Prescott. (C. Arthur Pearson.
Ltd. 306 pp. 6s.) .

REVIEWS.

Hi) Fortunate Grace. By Gertrude Atherton.
(Bliss, Sands & Co.)

This is a strong, well-knit piece of work. It is simple and direct
in its full-blooded thoroughly American vitality, just saved from
exuberance by the artistic sense. The early chapters, indeed, seem
to an European ear somewhat lavishly supplied with extravagant and
slangy expression, somewhat strident in tone. But as the story
unfolds, the roughnesses and crudities disappear, and the action
becomes more tense and living. The centre of it is the family of a
millionaire, himself, his wife, and his daughter, all vigorously and
effectively characterised. There comes to Now York a decrei)it
English duke, in search of a million to recruit his impoverished
acres. With him the millionaire's daughter falls in love ; a little
incredibly you think, but Mrs. Atlierton's point is that the disease is
epidemic. Then follows a struggle. The father, a man of sense
and character, refuses his consent, furious at the idea of selling his
daughter for a title to a pink-eyed, undersizetl debauchee. On the
other side are the infatuated Augusta and her beautiful mother,
acknowledged queen of society in New York, and ambitious for the
new laurels to be won by an assured position in London. The result

;j48

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMEN1\

[MABcn 26, 1898,

is a crash to the millionaire's belief in his passionately adored wife.
Neither will can bend. He declines to give a dowry, and his wife
takes flight to England with her daughter and the duke, sells her
personal houses and jewels to provide the price of a coronet, and sets
her husband at defiance, trusting to his love for her to bring him
round. It does not, and Mrs. Atherton has recourse to a somewhat
comical way out of the dilemma. Mrs. Forbes suddenly discovers
that she is about, after twenty years, to have a second child. She
cables frantically, and her husband comes out by the next mail.
There is a reconciliation ; Augusta gets her duke, and the duke his
dowry. But Mrs. Forbes has lost her husband's, not to speak of
the reader's, respect.

"'Tell me,' she said imperiously, 'have you really forgiven me?
I have almost been sure at times that you had. I have felt it. But you
have not been quite your dear old self. I want to hear you say again
that you forgive me, and it is the last time that I shall refer to the subj ect. '

' Yes,' he said, ' adjusting a lock that had fallen over her ear, ' I have
forgiven you, of course. We are to live the rest of our lives together.
I am not so unwise, I hope, as to nurse offended pride and resentment.'

The colour left her face. She came closer. ' Tell me,' she said, her
voice vibrating, ' won't it ever be quite the same again P Is that what
you mean f '

He took her in his arms, and laid his cheek against hers. ' Oh, I don't
know,' he said, ' I don't know.' "

The story verges perilously at moments on the burlesque, but in
the main it is a strong satire on certain developments of American
BOciety, which have now for some time been much in evidence.
The feeblest specimens of humanity who can boast a title and a line
of ancestors may take their pick, if you believe the author,
among the wealth, beauty, and intellect of the States. Mrs.
Atherton writes with keen insight and a brilliant command of
natural dialogue.

Tlie Minister of State. By John A. Steuart.
(Heinemann.)

In his very pretty dedication Mr. Steuart calls his story ' ' a drama
of romance in reality." The description is something clumsy and
pleonastic. To call it "a modem fairy tale" might describe it
more clearly and more simply ; for all forms of fiction must have
their roots in reality, just as aU plants, from the cabbage (or kail)
to the cactus, must be rooted in the earth. Every romance must
be a romance in reality, or be nothing ; The Arabian Nights are as
much indebted to reality, in their own way, as are the Rotigon-
Macqttart studies of Emile Zola in theirs. Mr. Steuart's fairy tale
appears to have been suggested — or rather provoked — in some
degree by the performances of the Kailyardists. He may
even be said to have invaded the very domain of " Ian
Maclaren," and to have dared (a mere mortal I) to steal some fire
from the sacred altar tended by the high priest of the Kailyard.
Let us declare at once that we prefer the stolen fire (if it be stolen)
to the original flame. We are introduced to a glen and a people
not unlike those of Drumtochty, and in the very same shire of
Perth ; we meet farmers and ploughmen, kirk elders and ministers,
and even a notable doctor, and a stiU more notable dominie. They
are like unto those of Drumtochty, but yet how different — how
difFerently obser^-ed, and how differently rendered. The mind of the
true Kailyardist is that of the sentimentalist. When he does not
turn his eyes away from facts altogether, he so glozes them
that the effect is false both to fact and sentiment. Mr.
Steuart, though he has invaded the Kailyard, is no Kailyardist.
The creator of Peter Proudfoot, Neil MacGregor, David Kinloch,
and the drunken fiddler, Lauchie, has shrewdly observed and
lovingly meditated ; and his work is truly laid both in fact and
sentiment. From this ground of reality he has caused to grow a
very agreeable story ; and if it be but a fairy tale— why, a fairy
tale can be a very delightfxd, a very suggestive, and a very
stimulating kind of literary art, even to adults. This fairy tale
concerns a marvellous herd-boy, who was, of course, a prince — that
is to say, a Minister of State— in embryo. When a boy he tamed
wild bulls, and attempted to tame wild horses. He became a
Double First at Edinburgh, and a Double First at Oxford, and he
rowed stroke in a winning race for the Dark Blues (his creator
wishes him to appear to be " the full, round man of Plato ") ; he
read for the Bar, became a great pleader (with an income of
£2(J,000 a year), a great orator in the Commons, a -Tudge, and a

Minister of State. But he did not marry the lady of his love ; and
there the fairy tale defies the rules of the game. Last of all, on a
visit to his native strath, he feU into talk with a herd-boy who was
ignorant of his identity :

" ' And would you like to do what Evan Kinloch has done ? '

' Yes, sir, awful much,' was the prompt response.

' And if you were to ask him, do you think he'd advise you to go away
South, and get all that he has got ? '

' I don't know, sir, but it's hkely he would.'

' I don't think he'd be so unkind,' said the gentleman, in a tone of
uncalled-for sadness. ' No, I'm sure he wouldn't. I think he would
advise you to stay among the hills and woods and green fields, and work
with the plough and the scythe.'

'Well! he didn't do that himself, sir,' replied the boy, with an
astute shake of the head.

' Ah, but he may be wiser now ! ' remarked the gentleman in that
plaintive tone for which the boy could discover no reason."

And thus, with an impression of Vanitas vanitatum ! Omnia tanitas !
the story sadly ends ; which, we submit, is to make a very modem
version of the fairy tale. Mr. Steuart writes with vigour and alert-
ness, and occasionally with brilliance, though at the outset he sets
a pace and style which he does not well maintain.

A Man from the North. By E. A. Bennett.
(John Lane.)

She took up the book, opened it, read a little, and presently laid it
down. Anon she was asked what she thought of it. " There is
some pretty phrasing," was the answer. "'Chirruped a phrase
ending in cheri' is good, don't you think?" The quotation was
given from memory ; when we came to read the book the phrase
was discovered to run, "... twittered a phrase ending in chert."
The difference between "chirruped" and "twittered" is significant
of the whole book. " Twittered " is not bad, but " chirruped " is
the one, the inevitable word in that connexion. So, throughout, the
writing is good — exceedingly good, compared with most that is
written — but it is not good enough, considering the standard Mr.
Bennett has manifestly set himself :

" An iuconstant, unrefreshing breeze, sluggish with accumulated im-
purity, stirred the curtains, and every urban sound — high-pitched voices
of children playing, roll of wheels, and rhythmic trot of horses, shouts
of newsboys, and querulous barking of dogs — came through the open
windows touched with a certain languorous quaUty that suggested a city
fatigued, a city yearning for the moist recesses of woods, the disinfectant
breath of mountain tops, and the cleansing sea."

Now that reads well enough ; but it is not at once convincingly
true. And such writing is worthless, when it does not immediately
convince of its truth. Moreover, the passage quoted pleases little
upon examination. It is plainly untrue, for instance, to describe
the " breeze " as " sluggish with accumulated impurity " ; it may
be "sluggish," but not for that reason; to say "with impuHty,"
and that " accumulated," is to declare that one has less a perception
of the truth of nature and fact than a taste for the elaborate false-
hood of M. Zola. But, not to insist too much on such detail, we
repeat, the writing is good — irritatingly good — so good that we
wish it much better.

The story of A Man from the North (surely an awkward and
misleading title) is of the kind that M. Zola has set the fashion of
calling a "human document." A young -man, a shorthand clerk,
comes to London from a small Lancashire town, and leads the
narrow, harmless, sordid life of such a person — a life which, in this
case, is faintly and spasmodically touched with literary ambition,
We conceive that the details have been observed quite accuratelj',
and they are quite accurately set down, witli that absence of passion
or palpitation which that kind of story affects, but which makes it
singularly dull and wearisome. The one person in the story who
is reaUy well rendered is Jenkins :

" Jenkins was a cockney and the descendant of cockneys : he con-
versed always volubly in the dialect of Camber well ; but just as he \ns
subject to attacks of modishness, so at times he attempted to rid himself
of his accent, of course without success. He swore habitually, and used
no reticence whatever. ... In quick and effective retort he was the peer
of cabmen, and nothing could abash him. His favourite subjects of
discussion were restaurants, bUliards, the turf, and women, whom he
usually described as ' tarts.' "

(Iarch 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

349,

■I Man from the North, in fine, is the kind of worthlessly clever
)k which neither touches nor moves the reader, neither interests
• persuades. It has, therefore, little claim to he considered
rature; for to produce literature it is as necessary to choose
iubject well as it is to write well, and the subject of A Man
'11 the North is not well chosen. But Mr. Bennett, it is manifest,
i style enough and faculty enough of observation to do admirable
rk, if he will forego bad models and choose a subject that may
rthily engage his best art.

* * * *

Gloria Victis. By J. A. Mitchell.
(D. Nutt.)

I. Mitohell's story is too trivial to bear so sounding a title. But
s very readable and it amuses, and three, at least, of the characters
■ interesting additions to the inhabitants of the world of fiction,
e story briefly shows liow a boj', Steven Wadsworth, predestined
crime, overcomes his fate and substitutes for the profession of
of that of honest acrobat. But the change convinces no one, for
lis described entirely from without. Psychological analysis is
jie beyond Mr. Mitchell's power. In the course of his career the
L' — the son of a housebreaking father and a mother jjossessed of
cataclysmic temper — steals, lies, murders, and attempts murder,
1 without consciousness of evU. He preserves, indeed, throughout
I worst deflections from morality, honest grey eyes and a clean

rt. When first embarked as a highway robber he encounters
Thome, an amiable clergyman, and bids him throw up his

ids. The doctor does so, but by a strategic movement defeats
: assailant. The following scene is then recorded :

' If I let you go will you promise to behave better, and not play with
iled pistols in the future ? '
Yes, I promise.'

You give me yom* word of honour ? '

Yes, sir.'

s he released his grip and took a backward step, the boy sprang
aard the pistol, snatched it from the grass, cocked it, and levelled it
f ji toward the figure before him.

!fow, who's ahead ? ' he exclaimed. ' This time you throw up your
ids, or I'U fire it!'

ut the hands were not thrown up. The massive head drooped
It Ay forward, aud two calm brown eyes rested mournfully upon the

iker. Reproachfully and without anger he looked into the

nphant face.

>o your promise goes for nothing ! You should have been a sneak
h E or a pickpocket ; not an open robber. I have always understood
h famous robbers had some self-respect, some regard for their word of

L05Ur.'

rer the villain's face came a flush of colour. Shame and indignation
o< the place of triumph, and the eyes wavered. There was an inward
ti ?gle, as easily read by the man before him as from an open book
jc ering the revolver, ho turned it about, holding the muzzle toward
diielf, then stepped forward and presented it to his towering
icir. In an uneven voice, and with a strong effort to repress the
ering of a lip, he murmured hurriedly —
m not a sneak thief ! Take it yourself ! I don't want it ! '
. Thome took the weapon and carefully pointed it in another
tion as he lowered the trigger, then returned it to the owner,

s we both are men of honour, it doesn't matter who keeps the
1.'"

)rhaps the best manner of taking leave of the book is to say
hf it is too good-humoured and unpretentious for serious criticism,
oamreal and superficial for much praise, and too readable for
ie^3ct.

« « « «

Rough Justice. By M. E. Braddon.
(Simpkin & Co.)

Roi/j Justice is a story which is constructed with the deftness

inqtold with the brightness that we have been taught to expect

Aliss Braddon. Murder and mystery are provided ; but

i- also a problem in ethics to be solved — are you justified

iig a woman to get money wherewith to benefit your fellow

US? Oliver Greswold is a philanthropist, with big schemes

[uire money. He discovers that one life stands between him

.0 fortune he has- been led to expect — the life of an obscure

wusi, whom he believes to be a worthless woman.

" te told himself that there was nothing sordid or selfish in his aspira-

lir

tions. Were the fortune his thousands would share in its benefits.
Every sovereign in the yearly income would mean something of comfort
for some sufferer — some lightening of the burden under which the
weary shoulders and weak knees were daily bending. . . . Aud
how would this woman use the wealth that was to be flung into her lap ':
Without experience of decent life, without one reputable acquaintance,
how coidd she be expected to deal with a great estate ? She would eat
it, and drink it, and fling it to the loose company that would gather
about her, swift as vultures sighting carrion. . . .

He had often debated that question which modem thought has
discussed as bold as ever it was argued by antique philosophy — Is life
worth livmg ? And here, he argued, was a case in which the answer
was easy and decisive.

Here, in the pe.-son of Lisa Rayner, was a life not worth Hving — a fife
worthless to its possessor ; a life that could only exercise evil influences
upon others; a life which for him, OUver Greswold, meant ruin and
despair.

Long days, long nig:hts of harrying thought resulted in a plan of action,
which began with daUy practice in his grandfather's grounds, and an
occasional hour at a shoolang-gallery in Soho."

So he shoots Lisa Eayner ; and WUdover, her former lover, who
has just come back from South Africa and wants to marry someone
else, is arrested and tried for the crime. Wildover is accj^uitted for
lack of evidence, but devotes himself to discovering the real
criminal. The scene in which he forces a written confession
from Greswold is dramatic. "We cannot help being rather glad
that Greswold is not brought to justice, for he really did good with
his money, and, to quote the closing words of the book, " Every-
where, among the people who try to leave the world better than
they found it, the name of Oliver Grreswold commands admiration
and respect."

A SKETCH OF IBSEN.

He is a man of striking personality [we quote from an article by
Mr. r. 0. Achom in the New England Magazine^, his hair is long
and gray, and he wears it combed straight up from his forehead.
The forehead itself is liigh, broad, and prominent. His whiskers
are gray and bushy; and he wears large gold-bowed spectacles.
The lower part of his face sinks into insignificance beside these
more marked characteristics. I can scarcely see his eyes under the
beetling brows and behind his spectacles ; I make them out to be
small and blue, and I have the sensation of being peered at instead
of looked at. His nose is small and irregular ; Hs mouth small,
firm, and straight. He was dressed in a black broadcloth coat,
double-breasted, long and closely buttoned, a white satin tie and
dark trousers, while a silk hat, a walking-stick, a pair of brown
cotton gloves and his spectacle-case lay near him. He was sipping
a glass of Scotch whisky and soda.

He spoke very slowly and with a reserve that was little less than
coldness. He drew a long black comb from his inside pocket, and
proceeded to set his hair more on end, if possible, than it already
was. The feeling took possession of me that, himself so given to
studying others, he was the kind of man who would give one very
little insight into his own thoughts and feelings unless ho chose to.

If one were to ask me of my personal impressions of Ibsen, I
should say that the first glance at his mighty forehead, his shaggy
hair, his sharp eye, his firm mouth, his ruddy complexion, his
compact build, made me feel that there was a tremendous power
behind it all, and that Henrik Ibsen was a man of intense thought
and passion. Ibsen's facial expression is remarkable. Under
intense feeling his face liardens, colour deepens, and his eyes blaze.
Instinctively one looks for shelter, feeling that the storm is abolit
to burst. Quickly the skies clear, the face softens, the- eyes twinkle
merrily, there is a suggestion of dimples at the comers of the
mouth, and an expression at once very droU and very winning plays
upon the features. He is a man of moods. If you catch him at
oue time, or if you "hit him right," he will do what no persuasion
would induce him to do at another. Friends to whom I spoke of
my own plea.sant meetings with him told mo that he is often
unapproachable.

He lives a methodical life. He is found at work in his study in
the forenoon. At one o'clock he turns up at the Grand Hotel,
which he calls his second home, for lunch. Wherever he has lived,
Ibsen has always selected some rafi' or place of public resort to
which he has betaken himself daily, where, free from molestation,
he could observe all that was going on about him.

350

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Maboh 26, 1898.

In the window of the hotel over my head it is his wont to sit and
study the people, until this watch tower has come by common con-
sent to he recognised as his, and is known as ' Ibsen s window.

From his vantage ground at the hotel window, a sweep of the
eye presents to the poet nearly every phase of human life ; royalty,
the statesman, the soldier, the actor, the student, the reveUer, the
traveller from foreign parts, the high and low, the nch and poor-
all are included. . , , . , , ,i -t. v i

Ibsen on the street moves along with his head well thrown back,
a favourite attitude being one in which his hands are clasped behind
him. Everybody knows him, and he receives the salutations of his
acquaintances by raising his hat with a courtliness and dignity
which mark the gentleman of the old school.

MISS MAEY E. WILKINS AT HOME.

Theke is a curious delusion current about Miss Wilkins, says
Mr. Chamberlin in the course of an article on " Miss Mary E.
Wilkins at Eandolph, Mass"— one of the readable series of
" Authors at Home " The Critic is publishing — which un-
doubtedly grows out of the determination of most people to make
all writers as much as possible like their books. I have heard
people who really knew better insist that Miss Wilkins must be a
countrified little person, looking and acting as if she had just
stepped out of her own stories. This notion may claim to derive
some colour, perhaps, from the fact that she lives in the village
where she was bom, and in an old house of vernacular New England
architecture, with its side toward the road and its front door in the
middle of this side, with a north parlour and a south parlour, and a
flower-garden in front of the house.

On the high mantelshelf in the chimney are Scott's novels, and
not another book! I asked Miss Wilkins why she kept them
there, and she said it was partly because they filled out the middle
of the shelf nicely, and partly because she liked to read them often.

If Miss Wilkins reads Scott, she also reads Hardy, Tolstoi, and
even Dostoievsky. She said to me of Dostoievsky's Crime and
Pimishment: "I am at odds with the [whole thing, but it is a
wonderful book. He writes with more concentrated force than
Tolstoi. This book seemed to me like one of my own nightmares,
and told on my nerves. It belongs to the Laocoon school of
literature." So too, she thinks, does Jude the Obscure. No one
feels more than she the power of such a book as the latter, but she
is not inspired to write in the same way.

Miss Wilkins' way of writing is not, usually, to re-write any-
thing once fully written out, but to elaborate a good deal as she
goes along, throwing away a great many closely-written sheets
which are her trial-Hues. And, indeed, though Miss Wilkins says
of herself that she does not seem to "compose," but to write out
something which she already knows, or else which comes to her
from some source outside or inside of her — she scarcely knows
which — she nevertheless does work out passages or portions of her
stories with great pains.

She does not go about at all looking for "material" for her
stories. She never puts Randolph people into them ; though she
has, indeed, put into them dead and gone people. Barnabas, in
Pembroke, with the awful will, was a man who had lived. Her
creations are mainly drawn purely out of her imagination, and
squared to Nature and reality by the exercise of a keen and
omnivorous faculty of observation which has grown instinctive, and
is as unconscious as it is accurate — like the minutely true eye-
measurements with which the Japanese carpenters astonished us at
the World's Fair. And for her nature-settings and decorations she
depends rather on the sharp recollections of childhood than on more
recent observations. She never had a bit of the spirit of the
naturalist.

This work of Miss Wilkins' goes on placidly enough, but
not in any way that is systematic enough to distress us. She
speaks of a stint of a thousand words a day, but she has the
artist's susceptibility to times and moods, and her work is really
done by spurts. She is not one of those fortunate ones who
can my, "Go to! I wiU sleep from ten until six, and then be
fresh for my work." Sleep with her has to be wooed with
subtle arts, and will follow no programme.

Naturally, Miss Wilkins is almost as much at home in Boston as
she is in Eandolph ; I think she feels more at home there. Some
people may find that hard to believe, because at Boston she goes in

neither for Browning nor Ibsen, and she is without a fad ; but it is
nevertheless true. You cannot discover about Miss Wilkins' home
a vestige oE the influence of any hobby — unless it is possibly her
chafing-dish ; she has a beautiful time with that, and so do her
friends. "Views " she has none, in the strenuous Bostonian sense
though good, solid principles she has in plenty. As between
Boston and Eandolph, I am sure that one thing that makes her
prefer the latter as a place of residence is the possibility of living
there in a way to one side of her literary reputation. She is not at
aU fond of the strong light that beats upon authorship ; but when
she is in Boston she is continually getting into it, as a matter of
course. In Eandolph she lives with a family of excellent people
who have known her since she was a child, and to whom, though
they rejoice with perfect happiness over her success, she is always
the girl whom they knew before she had made that success. She
is more like a daughter and a sister in this household than any-
thing else, and she accepts the relation with the completest loyalty
and devotion. She has retirement here without solitude, and, with
what people call " literary society " well within her reach if she
feels the want of it, it certainly need not be too much with her at
Randolph.

"EEALLY A MELODEAMA."

When the cynic was told, says a writer in Jlarper's Magatine,
that Quo Vadis was the most popular and had sold the best in this
country (America) of aU the books of the Polish novelist Sienkie-
wicz, he said, "That is what I should have predicted, for it is his
poorest." This judgment needs explanation and qualification. The
implication is that the Eoman novel was popular because it is poor,
and that its popularity implies a want of public discrimination. It
is true that Quo Vadis, in the view of literary criticism, is the
poorest work of this brilliant author, but there are other reasons
why it was more popular than the Polish trilogy of great romances.
Some of these reasons are found in its subject. Any story about
the early Christians and about their persecution is sure to attract
wide and alert attention. The public also know about Nero, and
like additional reasons for hating that vioUn-playing monster, who
is believed to have sat on a terrace and played on some sort of a
musical instrument after he had set Eome on fire. These matters
are familiar, and they occurred in our historic line. But the other
great romances of the author are on ground unfamiliar to us, and
foreign to our sympathies. It was difficult for us to imagine the
great wilderness of the Stepj)es, and to feel the whirlwind of bar-
baric and semi-Oriental passion that swept over them in the
sixteenth century. The author, however, was on his own
ground there by inheritance and tradition. He created his world
out of materials native to him, and wrote without self- consciousness.
In Rome he was under the disadvantage of being in a field foreign
to himself ; his work smells of the laboratory and the study — in a
word, it necessarily becomes somewhat archfeological. That is the
common fault of classic novels generally, written by modem
novelists. Ebers's Egyptian stories are an extreme illustration of
this : they all smelt of bitumen and mummy-wrappings. In order
to reproduce his Eoman world the writer has to explain too much.
We can fancy how encumbered and uninteresting (except to the
archsBological student of a later age) a novel about New York
would be if the writer were compelled to stop and explain and
describe every house, room by room, with aU the furniture, every
vehicle, every utensil of use or pleasure, every dress and ornament.
Sienkiewicz was under this disadvantage in attempting to repro-
duce, by books and monuments, the Eome of Nero. But there is
something more to be said. He is a genius, and a short story hy
him, called Let us Follotv Him, showing the effect of the crucifixion
upon the pagan mind, is evidence of his ability to throw himself
into the past without committing the fault he has fallen into in Quo
Vadis. It would seem as if the great novelist had been affected by
the modem wave of sensationalism that has swept from their moor-
ings so many writers, and had yielded to it. This is not saying
that there are not powerful scenes in Quo Vadis, scenes that make
the reader hold his breath. It is not saying that the author has
abandoned his power of creation — witness the character of Petromus.
But Quo Vadis is really a melodrama, and not to be compared as a
work of art — that means an enduring work — with Fire and Sword,
The Deluge, and Pan Micliael, nor with that intense study, With^^
Dogma.

BOH 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

851

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NOTES AND NEWS.

E cries of the Jiterary week have been
of Ibsen, and the manner of honour-
im. In another column we print a
ilay Diary, and between our pages a
•table portrait of the author of Ghosts
en allowed to stalk.

[ Edotjakd Eod, the French novelist,
Uid on the Njvelist's Art on Wednes-
iternoon at Stafford House. M. Eod
I is addrerj from MS. in the French
Jige. Ir an interview this week with
spsentative of the Daily Chronicle, M.
I red off a few of his literary pre-
in 8. Here they are :

])d has read Mr. Thomas Hardy's
el|with pleasure :

best of his works, in my opinion, is
Obscure. Teas, again, is a masterpiece,
it)etray8, perhaps too clearly, Zolaesque
lei e."

ice ling Mr. Kipling:

Hi strikes me as an entirely fresh and
■in. mind. The comparison that is so often
ween him and Maupassant seems to
I ched. Each writer deals with alto-
lorent themes, and it is indeed very
l» establish any parallel between

I. umphry Ward has captivated M.

-i mention lioberf Elsmere. The noble
th which the spiritual tribulations of
us and intellectual man are treated

tlioress cannot be overpraised,"

iier English woman writer has M
linage ;

ThjStor// of on African Farm will always

■ew jowerfully to everyone who can think

■ lei but I am convinced that her last

■f'r lliitht, is the best thing she has

done. Indeed, it is one of the greatest produc-
tions of the present generation.

And — more compliments :

" How can I forget to mention the name
«f Vernon Lee, whom I had the pleasure of
seeing only a few weeks ago at Florence,
and whose charming conversation at once
reminded me of the subtle, delicate, and
penetrating literary art of the authoress of
Euphorion 'i And Mme. James Darmesteter,
whose lyrics have afforded me such keen delight,
not to speak of her prose works. Few things
in my opinion can equal the magical delicacy
with which she has recalled in her End of the
Middle Ages the fascinating personality of
Beatrice d'Este."

One of Aubrey Beardsley's last drawings
— "The Death of Pierrot" — bore thislegend :
"As the dawn broke, Pierrot fell into his
last sleep. Then, upon tip-toe, noiselessly
up the stair, silently into the room, came the
comedians, Arlechino, Pantaleone, Colom-
bina, and ll Dottoro ; who, with much love,
lifted in their arms and bore away upon their
shoulders the white-frocked clown of Ber-
gamo. Whither we know not." There can,
the Saturday Review thinks, be no doubt that
the Pierrot of this drawing and this fasci-
nating passage was meant by the artist to
be himself.

The next volume of the Dictionary of
National Biography will contain a memoir of
E. L. Stevenson by Mr. Colvin. Meanwhile
the Outlook prints this communication from
"L. 0.," whom we take to be Mr. Lloyd
Osboume, in America: "Stevenson has a
stronger position here amongst teachers, &c.,
than he has in Britain. On this side of the
water the Edinburgh edition is unobtainable
at any price, and it is pleasant to think that
it has in general been bought by really poor
men — men who really stinted themselves to
obtain it." Our contemporary adds that
the Edinburgh edition was selling in San
Francisco for £4 a volume in 1895 ; and the
price has since risen !

The literary preferences of the great are
always interesting. We have just seen M.
Edouard Eod's. Here are Ian MacLaren's,
or, rather, they may be found in the British
Weekly, filling three and a half columns.
The considerate editor prints the following
synthesis at the top of the first column :
"The Scottish novelist, clergjonan, and
lecturer picks from the foremost shelf of his
library of fiction two standard classics —
Esmond and Tlie Heart of Midlothian — and
contrasts them as the highest types of the
literary art."

The first number of The Modern Quarterly
of Language and Literature lies before us.
The editor is Mr. Frank Heath, and among
his contributors are Dr. Fumivall, Prof.
Dowden, Prof. York Powell, Prof. Ker,
and Prof. Herford. The prefatory note by
the editor is modest and concise :

" Very few words are called for by way of
prologue to the Modern Quarterly of Language
and Literature. It is hoped that it will speak
for itself to all those who are interested in
literatuie and scholarship, and that in its catho-

licity will be found the best warrant for its
success. To the smaller circle of students who
welcomed the Modern Language Quarterly of
last year, this pubhcation will wear a familiar
face, but it will be recognised as being better
proportioned and more carefully arranged than
its prototype. Its aims will be the same in
spirit, though wider in range, and with the
added definiteness which is born of experience.
It will remain broad in sympathy and earnest
in its endeavour to offer an increasingly efficient
means of bringing before all who care for the
study of modern literature and tongues, and
see their supreme value for our very existence
as a nation, the best work which is being done
in this fruitful field of research."

Opposite, we are confronted by the bland
smile of Dr. Fumivall, beautiful in im-
perishable photogravure.

So far all is simple But on the second
page we are offered a hard nut to crack in
the shape of the following sonnet :

'"To the Onlie Begetter of

This insuing Sonnet

Mr. Q. J.

All Happinesse Wisheth

The Well-Wishing Adventurer

In Setting Type. —J. M. D.'
Whoever ill may wish, I set thy Will,
No Chapman-pedlar, cheapening wares in Hall,
But sharp-Toothed watchdog, that forewarn

thee still,
When critic envy on thy rear would fall.
No more be Lamb, but as a valiant Knight
Fitt on thy arms, and with a Harry's stete,
Bruisiug the Herbage, put thy foes to flight,
That from their Knoll's assaU the Temple Gate»
Ithuriel, let once more thy Gol-den Lance,
Like Will's, the Will of Archers to defy,
Be brandished in the face of ignorance
Against those arrows that Fortnightly fly.

So doubt shall ne'er prevail my faith to kill ;
No Thomas I, although I publish WiU."

It will need the combined intelligence of Mr.
Sidney Lee, Mr. William Archer, Mr. Tyler,
and the various other authorities on Shake-
speare's Sonnets to elucidate this nightmare.
Mr. Dent, the Temple Shakespeare, Mr»
Gollancz — we see glimmerings of all these,
but the rest is fog.

Those, says the New York Critic, who
know Henryk Sienkiewicz say that he
would rather go shooting or tramping over
the mountains, any day, than write. He
writes his serials from week to week, and
sometimes in the middle of one, when the
most exciting situation is reached, he takes
his gun and disappears. His publishers
tear their hair, but his readers have to con-
strain their curiosity tiU he returns ; when
he takes up the thread of his narrative and
carries it on to the end, unless another fit of
restlessness seizes him. Before Quo Vadis
was written, Sienkiewicz was supposed to
have made 500,000 dols. by his pen. As
that book has sold into the hundreds of
thousands, after running as a serial, he must
bo a good many thousands of dollars richer
to-day,

Mk. W. J. Stillman has resigned liis
position of Eome correspondent of the Times.
He intends in future to devote himself to
literature and eschew politics, making his
home in England. Meanwhile, Mr. Still-
man is busy on his autobiogi-aphy.

352-'

THE ACADEMY.

[Mauch 26, 1898.

A LADY who for many years was on close
terms of intimacy with George Eliot has
sent to the Westminster Gazette the following
interesting description of her, in reply to a
very unfavourable account published in the
British Weekly :

"How anyone— himself looking out of re-
fined eyes— could call George Eliot's features
'coarse' I cannot for a moment understand.
Massive they were, and reminded one in their
power of Savonarola; in their sweetness and
thought, of Dante. I have seen her face look
perfectly beautiful ; and once I remember— can
I forget ?— while talkmg to me with great
earnestness and feehng, there was a Ught and
glory on her face that made me think of the
transfigured faces on the Mount, and that held
me so spellbound with wonder and admiration,
that I was never able to recall one word of
what she had been saying. I have grieved
over this, for she was speaking of what had
been nearest her heart in writing her books.

So very far frombeingconceited or ' pedantic,'
I never knew one more heartfeltly modest, less
self-assertive. Self-knowledge, naturaUy, she
had, and great difiidence— very surprising to
me in her. Her wide, kindly tolerance, her
lovingness, her maternal compassion for the
world's sufferings .and wrongs, her readiness to
be pleased and amused, were to me most helpful
and altogether lovely."

An American critic has been at pains to
"place "Miss Corelli accurately. He does
it thus: "Miss Corelli, in our judgment,
comes a little below Ouida in the scale of
authors, and considerably above Miss Julia
Edjvards." He also says of the Beauties
recently culled from Miss Corelli 's writings :
" We think that Corelli students will be glad
to have the book lying on the marble-topped
tables of their pensive citadels, and that
Corelli lovers will give it a prominent place
on the huhl etageres of their luxurious
boudoirs."

The Sette of Odde Volumes' dainty
opuscula are well known to collectors of
moflem rarities. Before us lies an elaborate
parody of one of these tiny pamphlets — an
obfusculum, as the author calls it — entitled
Tudor Writers on Iluslandrie. And thereby
bangs a tale, which runs as follows : Some
four years ago Sir Ernest Clarke, the yeo-
man to the Sette, read a paper with the
above title, and promised, in accordance with
the Sette's rules, to present it to them in an
opusculum. Time passed, however, and no
opuseulum appeared. Hence the prepara-
tions of this dummy, which consists of notes
flanked by chafE of the dilatory yeoman.

The next performance of the Elizabethan
Stage Society will take place at St. George's
Hall on Tuesday evening, April 5, when
Middleton and Rowley's romantic comedy.
The Spanish Oipsy, will be revived after the
manner of the sixteenth century. The music
will be under the direction of Mr. Arnold
Uolmetsch. This comedy was last acted at
Whitehall on November 5, 1623.

Heke are the titles of a few of the lectures
to be delivered at the Royal Institution after
Easter :
April 19, 26, at 3, Mr. T. C. Gotch on " Phases

of Art ; Past and Present."
April 29, at 9, Mr. W. H. M. Cbristie, Astronomer

Eoyal, on "The Recent Eclipse."
May 20, at 9, Mr. D. H. Madden on "The

Early Life and Work of Shakespeare."
May 31, June 7, at 3, Prof. 8. H. Butcher on

" Literary Criticism in Greece."
June 3, at 9, Prof. W. M. FUnders Petrie on

" The Development of the Tomb in Egypt."

To the announcements which we printed
last week under the name of Messrs. Hutchin-
son & Co. the following should be added : a
new work on Japan, by Mrs. Hugh Eraser,
wife of the late English minister to Japan; a
posthumous work by the late Sir Benjamin
Richardson, with about fifty fidl-page illus-
trations; and an important ethnological book
by the Rev. H. N. Hutchinson, entitled The
Human Race, profusely illustrated.

This month Messrs Cassell & Company
again add the word New York to their
imprint; which henceforth stands as London,
Paris, New York, and Melbourne. It
will be remembered that some years ago
the company disposed of their business in
America to a separate concern, known as the
CasseU Publishing Company. The agree-
ment under which this arrangement was
made has now lapsed, and Messrs. Cassell
& Company have appointed to take charge
of the branch Mr. W. T. Belding, who
held an important position under Messrs.
Cassell & Company at New York prior to
the transfer to the American Company.

In view of Dr. Parker's pulpit jubilee,
Messrs. Horace Marshall & Son are pub-
lishing six volumes of his Sermons, Out-
lines, and Suggestions, under the general
title of Studies in Texts.

Here, for example, is a stanza from " The
Ballade of Impatience " :

" Where, where the Book we waited for so

long—

The Book our Yeoman-brother vowed to

write ?

Weary we wait, and weary, wail our song

Yearning an-hungered for the Promised

Sight,
Sad watchers counting, hour by hour, the
night.
And all but hopeless, weeping in the dark —
(Children who look aU-sobbing for the
light,)
Where is that Book, that Promised Book, by
Clarke? "

The jest has had the desired efEect.

the latter has devoted to the genealogic
history of the English Emersons, and wliic
will be published in the spring by M'
David Nutt.

Heretical books are no longer burned ;
but their writers are still occasionally
deposed from their pulpits by the General
Assembly of the Church of Scotland. This
was the fate of Mr. Alexander Robinson,
formerly minister of Kilmun. The book
which cost him his ministerial position was
entitled A Study of the Saviour in the Newer
Light. Persecuted books live long, and
Messrs. Williams & Norgate are about to
issue a revised and partially re-written
edition of Mr. Robinson's work.

The Marquis of Bute proposes to issue
second edition of his Roman Breviary. Th
was fijst published in 1879, and has loi
been out of print. Copies can only be pr
cured now at a price enhanced to about fc
times that at which it was published.

Lord Bute has also compiled an editi(
of The Service for Palm Sunday, which w
be published by the Art and Book Compan
Should the experiment be received wi
sufl&cient favour. Lord Bute proposes to iss'
in a similar form the services for every dt
in Holy Week and Easter Week.

Mr. W. Cecil Wade, who has be
making a close study of heraldry, finds th
other writers have singularly overlooked t
symbolical significance which Hes at t!
origin of heraldic arms. In his forthcomii
work Tlie Symbolisms of Heraldry which 1)
George Redway is to issue, he inquires ir
the derivation and meanings of armor
bearings. The text will be illustrated
numerous cuts.

Last week, by an inadvertence, we ga
Mrs. Atherton's latest story the tit
"American Wives and Husbands";
should have been American Wives a
English Husbands. We understand that 1
Fortunate Grace, which we review this we(
was issued in " paper form " last year.

I It has hitherto been found impossible to
trace the birthplace of Ralph Waldo Emer-
son's English ancestors. This discovery has
just been made by Mr. W. Brigg and Dr.
P. H.Emerson. Pull particulars concerning
it will appear in the elaborate work which

IBSEN'S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY

A Di-ARY or Progress.

Some time in winter. — Mr. Gosse reine
bers that Ibsen's seventieth birthday
imminent, and makes a note of it in 1
Birthday Presentation memorandum book

Zater.— Mr. Gosse and Mr. Archer preps
plans for birthday present to the plf
wright.

Zater.— A. chosen few are permitted t
privilege of subscribing a guinea to t
birthday fund.

Zater.— An order is given for a sili
ciborium— acsimile of one made i
George II.— a silver ladle, and a silver cu

Tuesday, March 15.— Appearance of f
Jubilee Chronological Edition of Ibsei
works at Copenhagen. Introduction
Ibsen, in which he says, very naturau
" Only by studying and mastering i
collected works as a connected, unbroK
whole, will the reader receive the intend
and right impression. In a word, 1 ^o\
affectionately beg my readers not to te
porarily lay aside or skip any single pie;
^ but to master the works-to read and i^
through them— in the order m whicU w
are composed." Readers begm, witw
skipping, to master the works.

VIakoh 26, 1898.]

TUE ACADEMY.

353

Saturday, March 19. — Publication in

rmiich of letter to subscribers, and letter
Ibsen, both signed by Mr. Archer and
■. Gosse, and list of subscribers. In the
it letter Ibsen is complimented on his
ecutive skill and intellectual intrepidity.
?ome of us," it continues, " recognised
iir force and your distinction a quarter
a century ago ; some of us have but
ely come into the range of your genius ;
t we all alike rejoice in its vital power,
d hope for many fresh manifestations of
versatility." General, opinion being that
3 only English recogniser of Ibsen's force
d distinction a quarter of a century ago
s Mr. Gosse, readers are disturbed to
tice the use of the plural.

Sunday, March 20. — Ibsen's birthday in
ristiania. Arrival of letter from Mr.
icher and Mr. Gosse, accompanied by
i^er gifts. Ibsen is grateful, but has not
1) slightest notion what to do with them,
lads letter. Is pleased. Heads list of
ty-one admirers. Is pvizzled. Reads
it only £53 lis. could be amassed for him.
jxmused, but feels gratitude to Mr. Gosse
\ discovering him. Eeceives hundreds of
^igrams and letters from, among others,
5ig Oscar, Queen Sophe, the Norwegian

wn Prince, and Mr. Justin McCarthy.

•istiania, Berlin, and other cities en fUe.

cial performances of Ibsen's plays on

Continent. None in London. Christiania
h^ehladet announces that Ibsen's next work
be a philosophical review of his

tings and life. Fireworks.

Ifonrfay, March 21. — Continuation of Ibsen
eJi in Norway. The Chronicle prints a
Jm of 238 lines, addressed to Dr. Ibsen

Mr. Archer. Ibsen is promised that
j\Ti the futile fray that surges round his

jie has died away. Time, the unerring
, shall arbitrate and hail him Poet

!it among the great. Ibsen is also called
?lKker, Diviner, Seer, ' and Archimage.
Ta last word supposed to be a misprint
0]\jchermage.)

lie Chronicle also prints a letter from
il i Dorothy Leighton regretting that the
njpendent Theatre was not asked to
u cribe ; and another from the Rev. Percy
)di-mer laughing at the gift of silver, and
iflTiing that a company of vestrymen,
^i\ig a presentation to ;k local politician —
laj a JubUee commemoration committee —
(rqld have done better.

-isewhere, the Chronicle states that great
Lisj)pointment is felt among devoted ad-
uijrs of Ibsen in England that they were
lollifforded an opportunity of subscribing
o ie bulk of present.

I) performance of Ibsen play in London.
iloptter from Mr. G. B. Shaw.

Ai'sday, March 22. — Conclusion of Ibsen

itions in Christiania. Gala per-

ice of " The Master Builder " in

e of the author. Students are

1 permission to unhorse and drag

^ carriage. Forming torchlight

>ion, they call at Ibsen's house.

Idresses them from the balcony :

iJiider Solness feared youth, but I

loni fear youth. I never feared to

tno that you would come and knock at

my door. Come, I salute you with the
greatest delight. Thanks ! A thousand
thanks ! " Nonperformance of Ibsen play
in London.

Appearance, in a letter to the Chronicle,
of the name of Miss Frances Lord, an
early translator of Ibsen. Kindred attempt
to win recognition for Mr. William Wilson,
translator of Brand. The choice of George
II.'s eiharium supported by another corre-
spondent. No letter from Mr. G. B. Shaw.

Wednesday, March 23. — Article by Mr.
Gosse in the Sketch on the " Great Nor-
wegian Master." Reproductions of Ibsen's
portrait and Mr. Qosae's autograph. Mr.
Gosse teUs how, on a burning summer's
day in July, 1871, he entered the principal
bookshop in Trondhjem and asked the
assistant : " Have you got such a thing as
a living poet in Norway?" In reply he
received a copy of Ibsen's Digte. He read
it, and was deeply moved ; it seemed to
him that this was a new planet. Hence
became the apostle of Ibsen. In 1873,
Mr. Archer siicceeded him.

The Daily News prints extracts from the
Copenhagen Politiken. Herein Mr. Pinero
expresses the wish that the great poet and
dramatist may continue long in the enjoy-
ment of health and strength, for his own
happiness and in the interest of the readers
and playgoers of the civilised world. Mr.
J. K. Jerome, though friendly to the Arch-
image, insists that he falls into the error of
assuming that beauty is of necessity a cloak,
hiding the truth, whereas, in the hands of
stronger thinkers, it serves rather as a
graceful garment, enhancing her charms.
Mr. Walter Crane recalls staying in the
same house with the Diviner in Rome in
1882-3. Mr. Zangwill declares that if the
function of writers is to stimulate thought,
to kindle emotion, and to inspire action,
then must Henrik Ibsen be ever counted
among the highest ; and Mr. Stead pro-
nounces that the Seer has broken for ever
with the tradition which denies woman the
right to independent existence, and treats
her as the mere ancillary of man. Thereby
he has made humanity his debtor.

No performance of Ibsen play in London.
Threat uttered in the Chronicle by Miss
Janet Achurch and Mr. Charles Charrington
to write some day the history of the Ibsen
want of movement in England. The same
writers are scornful of the Philistinism, in-
adequacy, and irrelevance of the gifts and
letters to Ibsen.

Letter (in the same paper) from Miss
Frances Lord, adding the name of Arthur
Clifton to the list of Ibsen's discoverei-s, and
asking the Chronicle to start a rival fund for
the Archimage. Refusal of Chronicle to do
any such thing. No letter from Mr. G. B.
Shaw.

Reflection 1 . Presentations should either
be very public or quite private. Reflection
2. Signatures to such presentations should
not wander into the daily papers. Reflec-
tion 3. Persons prevented from joining in
concerted schemes should not write to the
papers, but send a private present by parcels
post. Reflection 4. Bitter are the abuses
of advertisement.

GABEIELE D'ANNUNZIO.
A Sketch.

The author of The Triumph of Death was
not fortunate enough to be bom with a
name so euphonious and befitting a poet as
" Gabriele d'Annunzio." This is a pseudo-
nym, and the novelist's real name is
Rapagnetta. The biographical dictionaries
give the date of his birth as 1864, but at
first sight it is impossible to believe
d'Annunzio to be more than twenty-five, so
extremely youthful is his appearance. He
has a slender, well-built figure, a pale oval
face, large dreamy eyes, and a moustache
the ends of which are curled and twisted
aggressively skjrwards after the fashion of
the Emperor WUliam's.

He has been said to resemble a fair
Pierre Loti, and to have all the non-
chalance of bearing, and marked origin-
ality in conversation, peculiar to the sailor^
Academician. Till last summer, when
d'Annunzio came forward as a candidate
for the Chamber of Deputies, he was living
in great retirement either in his Florentine
vUla or at Francavilla — his birthplace— on
the shores of the blue Adriatic, far away
from engine-whistles and Americans, his
pet aversions. Here, when he was writing
L' Innocente, he worked in peace and sun-
shine without interruption — often for sixteen
hours at a stretch. D'Annunzio' s hermit-
like tastes have hitherto made him the
despair of interviewers ; but in 1 895 his
admirer, M. Ojetti, visited him at Franca-
villa al Mare, and was allowed to report to
the world afterwards some interesting details
of his life there. D'Annunzio showed M.
Ojetti his study in the ruins of a deserted
monastery, where his friend the painter,
Paolo Michetti, had also established his
studio.

D'Annunzio is a keen sportsman. The
sight of " the wheel " m the streets
oi Florence is as offensive to his artistic
eye as are the great blocks of new
buildings which for hygienic reasons have
replaced the picturesque but unsanitary-
ghettos in most of the Italian towns.
When in Florence, he has given his coach-
man orders always to take a circuitous
route rather than drive him anywhere near
the hideous utilitarian Piazza Victor Em-
manuel.

A few years ago, when " The Triumph of
Death" was running through the Revue des
Deux Mondes, in M. Herelle's superb transla-
tion, and the other two novels — V Innocente
and Piacere — which compose the ' ' Trilogy of
the Rose," were being devoured in Germany
and exciting enthusiasm even in the unemo-
tional Teutonic breast, Italians of culture
still ignored their existence. Even now
many eminent critics on the Roman press
decline to recognise d'Annunzio as a power in
the literature of modem Italy. D'Annunzio
himself attributes this coldness of attitude
on the part of his compatriots to the fact
that he bounded into fame too easily and at
too early an age.

He was only sixteen, and still at college
in Tuscany, training for the diplomatic
service, when he showed his father a copy-
book of verses written in his spare time.
This exceptional parent was so impressed

354

THE ACADEMY.

[Maboh 26, 189,

by their merit that he paid for their pub-
lication, and the boy awoke one morning to
find himself famous. All the papers dis-
cussed, criticised, and admired Primo Vere,
and prophesied a great future for the
poetic prodigy. On the wave of this
early success he went as a student to Ronie.
Then he became the victim of a reaction,
and was as unreasonably abused as before he
had been extravagantly praised. But abuse
made him happy and proud, for, according
to d'Annunzio, there is no stimulus to
artistic production like hate. "Implacable
hate," in his own words, " compels a man
to produce if only to exasperate."

It was not in Italy, however, but in
adoring Paris that d'Annunzio was arraigned
as a plagiarist, and convicted of "lifting"
whole passages from De Maupassant, Zola,
and others of the naturalist school. Yet
he somehow managed to emerge from even
this ordeal unscathed and with increased
rather than diminished popularity. As a
mark of his appreciation of the favour in
which the Parisians hold him, he elected to
have his tragedy. La Ville Mmie, performed
for the first time at the Eenaissance, with
Sarah Bernhardt instead of Eleonora Duse
in the part of the heroine. Of contem-
porary Italian authors d'Annunzio has a
poor opinion. His favourites among modem
Gallic authors are Paxil Bourget and
Anatole Prance. He declares that he has
never yet achieved the feat of getting
through a book of Zola's, having been
bored to extinction by the minute and
lengthy chronicles of the Eougon Mac-
quarts.

Of the trilogy of the Lily, destined to follow
that of the Hose, only Le Vergini delle Roece
("The Maidens of the Rock") has as yet
appeared ; La Gratia and L' Annunzia%ione
have probably not yet been written, at any
rate, they remain unpublished. D'Annunzio
in his last novel, Le Virgini delle Rocce,
has ceased to be obscenely erotic, but it
cannot be said he has become more interest-
ing. Even the sustained musical cadence of
his prose, which here reaches its highest
pitch of perfection, begins to pall, and the
gorgeous word-pictures weary the mental eye
with their lusciousness and tteir frequency.

What d'Annunzio's career as a politician
wUl be is a subject for interesting specu-
lation. The audaciously unconventional
oration in which he appealed to the rustics
of his birthplace to give him their votes was
well calculated to inflame the wrath of
the novelist's enemies, for it contained no
allusion whatever to any of the vital ques-
tions of the hour. It was simply a harangue
on the joys of existence, as exemplified in the
speaker's own works. It was delivered in a
hall decorated with banners, on which, in
stead of the names of the heroes of Italian
Unity, were emblazoned the titles of the
eight or ten volumes that d'Annunzio has
contributed to the literature of his country.
Here is an example of d'Annunzio's elec-
tioneering rhetoric :

"Men of my own land, to you I may
boast and praise myself. ... In the solemn
stillness of a Sabbath afternoon, I would
place in the bands, the gnarled and sun-
burnt hands of the peasant sitting beneath
the oak tree's shade, instead of his scriptural

texts, that one of my books in which I have
depicted with ruthless and unsparing art, ttie
slow death of a human creature unworthy of
the gifts of love and life {The Triumph
of Death). And if the written word could be
changed into the tangible thing of which it is
symbolical, the man would be bound to feel as
if he held in the hollow of his palm the full
weight of his country, as in old prints the
Kaiser bears the globe. His cottage of clay,
his bread and water, the reaping songs of his
daughters, all these would be bound to appear
more sacred in his eyes than before. And one
evening, should I cross his threshold, he would
rise with reverence, not as in the presence of
his master, but as in the presence of one who
had been a great power in his life for good.
He would say : ' This man knows me well, and
has shown me what is best in me.' "

From this passage one naturfdly gathers
that Signor Eapagnetta dreams of legis-
lating for the needs of the bucolic mind
rather than for the necessities of the bucolic
stomach. But it is difficult to realise his
picture of the PrancaviUa rustic who lives
on bread and water, learning moral lessons
from the pages of The Trmmph of Death,
almost as difficult as to imagine a plough
boy of Hind Head grappling with the
wonders of The Egoist.

THE EECEEATIONS OP THE SELP-
C0N8CI0US.

The new edition of Who's Who contains
7,000 biographies of more or less eminent
people, and of this number 6,000 favoured
the editor with the names of their favourite
relaxations. Here is an attempt to reduce
these recreations of the self-conscious to a
statistical form, in order to obtain some
indication of the main tendencies of the
cultured in their moments of leisure. Pirst,
a general summary :

Exercises of locomotion . . .1,951

The chase 1,162

Outdoor ball games 1,102

Indoor: Games . . . 176

Handiwork . . 295

Fine arts . . 633

1,104

Agriculture 254

Science 228

Racing 43

Antagonistic games 42

Marlssmanship 29

5915

In this summary no account is taken of
119 people who profess a general interest in
field sports. A specific analysis of each of
these general classes will afford food for no
little reflection.

Locomotion.

Indoor Games.

Cycling .
Rowing .
Travel .
Yachting
Riding .
Walking.
Climbing
Swimming
Driving .

. 690

Chess . .

. 79

. 232

Billiards. .

. 50

. 224

Whist . .

. 38

. 187

Cards . .

. 7

. 178

Dominoes .

. 1

. 149

Draughts .

. 1

. 100

. 55

176

. 53

Locomotion. — ( Cant.)

Gymnastics
Skating .
Dancing .
Ballooning
Kiteflying

The Chase.

Shooting

Angling.

Hunting

Stalking

Coursing

Hawking

Pigsticking

1162

OuTDOOE Ball
Games.

Golf . . .
Cricket . .
Lawn Tennis
Football.
Racquets
Curling .
Polo . .
Bowls
Fives . .
Croquet .
Hockey .
Badminton
Shuttlecock
Quoits .
Baseball .
Lacrosse.

473

255

184

1102

Antagonistic Games.

Fencing .
Boxing .

31
11

Mabksmanship.

Handiwoek.

39 Painting. .

37 Photography
4 Engineering
2 Carpentering
1 Turning

Carving . .

1951 Modelling .

Needlework

Pokerwork .
Spinning

503
370

252 Ageictjltuee

23 Garden
8 Field
* Forest
■^ Orchard
Horses
Dogs .
Bees .
Fish .

:i
5
S
II
5
5
1
1

. 9
. 0

Fine Arts.

Books and reading 1

Music . .

Art collecting

ArchsBology

Drama . .

Architecture

Ceramics

Conversation

Numismatics

Philately .

Ecclesiology

Science.
Natural.

Volunteering .
Archery .... 7
Boomerang throw-
ing. ... '. 1

General . .
Botany . .
Geology . .
Entomology
Ornithology
Microscopy ,
Conchology

Human

Ethnology .
Folk-lore .
Sociology .

Phyticah

General . .
Astronomy .
Meteorology

Taking the most popular twenty of ti e
recreations in the order of their nume u
importance the following table is formef

Cycling .
Shooting
Golf . .
Angling.
Hunting
Cricket .
Rowing .
Travel .
Agriculture
Reading .

690 Yachting . .

503 Lawn Tennis .

473 Riding . . •

370 Music . ■ •

289 Natural History

255 Walking. . ■

232 Painting. . ■

224 Art Collecting.

218 Chmbing . •

211 Photography .

The significance of these figures h(
the proof they afford that the brain-wr
of the land still rely in the main
their relaxation upon physical sports ra

tfAROH 26, 1898.]

THL ACADEMY.

355

m upon other forms of intellectual
ivity. A Sir Walter Besant may be
jisfied to spend his leisure in "looking
" a Bishop of Oxford in "making out
iligrees and correcting proof sheets."
jt the typical man of cultivated employ-
:nt is he who springs into his saddle,
ks up his fowling-piece, or shoulders his
if sticks, after his work is done.
In the smaller numbers the comparative
incerity of these self-conscious revelations
^ders them useless for any purpose of
Mistical study. The composer of " Lux
Jnsti " is not the only kiteflyer in England,
[ire are others besides Mr. James Welch
'|5 play lacrosse, Mr. W. B. Tegetmeier is
e alone in the practice of dominoes, nor is
(i. Sarah Grand the only amateur
]|ologist in our midst. That Mr.
iiitley Stokes is the only boomerang
i)wer in the land might perhaps be
Jseded, and the fact that alone among
illem women Dorothea Gerard is brave
[ugh to confess to a fondness for poker
k is not without its instructiveness.
lead, the revelation that there are no fewer
1 fifteen Englishwomen of distinction
still not only occasionally practise with
i|needle but are willing to admit it, is
Dthe least encouraging of the results of
inquiry.

gt.

THE NEW COPYEIGHT ACT.

Oft Heeschell's "Act to Consolidate and
nd the Law Eelating to Copyright " has
read a second time in the House of
Is, and is now before a Select Committee.
h Act is a particularly important one, and
il probably become law before the close of
q^ear. The following is a short summary-
few of the more important clauses of
fBill. We have purposely omitted all
•ence to colonial and international copy-
The sections dealing with these
tions are particularly ambiguous, and
1 probably be materially amended in
1 mittee.

Q Duration of Copyright. — For works
n ished during the lifetime of the author,
i£ opyright endures until thirty years after
sleath. For posthumous works, until
ly years after publication. Anonymous
o: s, or works published under a pseu-
)im, are treated as postliumous works,
IT as the duration of copyright is con-
nd, imless a declaration of the true
III be made to the Eegistrar of Copy-
g's.

( Translation and Dramatised Versions. — •
M'wner of the copyright has the exclusive
rf of translating or dramatising.
( Alridgmenfs. — If an author still retain
pi uniary interest in his work — either by
c« dug royalty or part profits— no abridg-
ei may be made without liis consent. If
> ]« parted with tlie entire copyright, he
ni it prevent abridgment.
(' Extracts. — " Fair and moderate " ex-
ic are allowed for review purposes.
(' Articles, ^r., in Encyclopmdias, Die-
tuies, ^T.— The copyright belongs to the
m\ of the encyelopsedia or dictionary, not
tl) writer of the article.

(6) Articles, ^c, in Periodicals. — The
copyright belongs to the author. The
articles must not be reprinted without the
consent of the owner of the periodical until
three years after first publication.

(7) Newspapers. — The copyright only
applies to original contributions and news
independently obtained.

(8) Lectures. — The first public delivery is
publication, and if the lecture be published
in book -form the copyright dates from the
public delivery. A report of a lecture is an
infringement of copyright only when such
a report is publicly prohibited by the
lecturer. There is no copyright whatever
in lectures delivered at universities, public
schools, or public foundations, or " by any
person in virtue of, or according to, any
gift, endowment or foundation."

(9) Registration. — Eegistration at
Stationers' Hall is necessary to establish
proprietorship of copyright, and no action
for infringement can be brought unless the
copyright be so registered.

(10) Delivery of Copies to the British
Museum, Sfc. — A copy of the best edition of
every work published must be delivered at
the British Museum. A copy of the ordinary
edition must be delivered to the Libraries at
Oxford, Cambridge, Edinburgh or Dublin.

THE WEEK.

Prof. Max MiJLLEH is superintending the
issue of a collected edition of his writings
— the work of more than fifty years. We
give an extract from the preface with which
Prof. Miiller now sends forth his collected
works. He writes :

" I hope that this Collected Edition of my
principal works, besides being convenient to
the student, will also serve to place the chief
object of all my literary labours in a clearer
light. At first sight books on Language, books
on Mythology, books on Religion, and books
on the Science of Thought, may seem to have
little in common, and yet they were all inspired
and directed by one and the same purpose.
During the last fifty years I believo I have
never lost sight of the pole-star that guided my
course from the first, and I hope it will be seen
by the attentive reader that I have steered
throughout towards one beacon with its re-
volving light. I wanted to show that with the
new materials placed at our disposal during the
present century by the discoveries of ancient
monuments, both architectual and literary,
by the brilliant decipherment of unknown
languages and the patient interpretation of
ancient literatures, whether in Egypt, Baby-
lonia, India, or Persia, it has become possible
to discover what may be called historical
evolution, in the earliest history of mankind.
This could be done and was done by intro-
ducing historical method where formerly we
had to be satisfied with mere theories or
postulates, so that at the present moment it
may truly be said that what is meant by
evolution or continuous development has now
been proved to exist in the historical growth of
the human mind qiutie as clearly as in any of
the realms of objective nature which Darwin
chose for the special field of his brilliant
labour. Language, mythology, religion — nay,
even philosophy can now be proved to be the out-
come of a natural growth or development, rather
than of intentional efforts or individual genius.

In the early history of mankind, the influence
of the many on the few can be shown to have
balanced, nay, to have outweighed the influence
of the few on the many. Even the founders of
the great religions and philosophies of the
ancient world have now been recognised as the
children rather than as the makers of their
time. The so-called Zeitgeist is no longer an
unmeaning name, but a very soUd body of his-
torical facts, leaving their impress on every
succeeding generation. There never was a break
in the history of the human mind."

An important new book is Mr. W. H.
Mallock's Aristocracy and Evolution : a Study
of the Rights, the Origin, and the Social
Functions of the Wealthier Classes. This work
is a reply to those who ignore natural
inequalities among men in propounding
theories of social progress. Mr. Mallock
insists on the greatness of great men, and
argues that they are the indispensable
members of society. Mr. Mallock places
on his title-page the following lines of
Byron's :

" 'Tis thus the spirit of a single mind

Makes that of multitudes take one direc-
tion.
As roll the waters to the breathing wind,
Or roams the herd beneath the bull's pro-
tection,
Or as a little dog will lead the blind,
Or a bell-wether form the flock's con-
nection
By tinkling sounds, when they go forth to

victual.
Such is the sway of our great men o'er httle.

There was not now a luggage-boy but sought
Danger and spoil with ardour much in-
creased ;
And why ? Because a little — odd — old man,
Stript to his shirt, was come to lead the van."

The series of " Tudor Translations " now
includes Geoffrey Fonton's rendering in
English of Bandello's Tragical Discourses.
These fill two volumes of the series, and
they are bound in the familiar dark red
buckram with the portcullis design on the
back. In common with the other volumes
in the series they are admirably light in the
hand. The translation is edited by Mr.
Robert Langton Douglas, who points out
that Bandello's novels are typical products
of the Eenaissance, a movement which sent
men not only to antiquity, but to an eager
study of the life around them. He writes :

"Full of the inspiration of new ideas, with
new senses opened to them, painters and poets,
historians and diarists, physiologists and
philosophers, dramatists and novehsts sought
to express what they saw and felt, and to
satisfy in some measure the cravings of their
fellow-countrymen. Of all these classes of
workers, none appealed to a larger audience
than the novellieri. In every town in Italy
there sprang up writers who professed to
relate stories of real life ; and every-
where their works were eagerly read by the
people. . . . Amongst the novellieri of the
cinque - cento, Matteo Bandello stands pre-
emment. No other Italian writer of that age
had a wider influence outside his own country ;
none was more popular amongst Englishmen.
All the best stories in the second tome of
Painter's Palace of Pleasure were taken from
him ; whilst Fenton's 'J'rayicall Discourses is
entirely composed of translations of his tales.
These ' forreine reapportes ' were soon known to

!• I

356

THE ACADEMY.

[March 26, If

all classes of our countrymen. Everyone had
heard the tragical histories of Khomeo and
Giiiletta, of the Countess of Celant, and of the
Dachess of Malfi."

Mb. William Wallace, the editor of the
new Robert Chambers's Life and Works of
Rolert Burns, has collected and edited the
entire existing correspondence between the
poet and Mrs. Dunlop. This volume is
entitled Robert Burns and Mrs. Dunlop, and
it includes all the previously published col-
lections of this correspondence. But it also
includes what Mr. Wallace calls the Lochryan
MSS. These are letters which have been
preserved at Lochryan, the estate which Mrs.
Dunlop left at her death to her grandson,
General Sir John Wallace. In the Dunlop-
Wallace family these letters have remained
ever since. They number thirty - eight
letters and parts of letters from the poet to
Mrs. Dunlop, and ninety-seven letters from
Mrs. Dunlop to the poet. The new letters
throw direct light upon the estrangement
between Bums and his friend in the last
eighteen months of his life.

THE BOOK MARKET.

THE WHITECHAPEL BAEEOWS.

OUE recent articles on the absence of
booksellers' shops in the East End of
London appear to have attracted a good deal
of attention. The JEast London Observer is
needlessly angry with us for having made
statements which were instantly corroborated
by seven East London clergymen and a lay
correspondent. It will be remembered that
our representative explored the great artery
which stretches from Aldgate to Stratford,
and took an inventory of the book-shops.
He made it clear that his search was for
shops in which new books are sold ; and
finding none to speak of, he carefully
stated the fact, giving chapter and verse
as he proceeded. But our representative
did not suggest, as the East End Observer
seems to think, that good books are not
read in the East End. On the contrary, it
was precisely his conviction that they are
read which caused him to exclaim in
astonishment on the absence of book-shops.
Thequestion he propounded was not whether
East London reads books, but where it buys
them. He expressly referred to the Free
Libraries which are dotted along the route ;
Mid the largest of these libraries, that of the
People's Palace, had already been the sub-
ject of an appreciative article in these
columns.

A representative of the Academy writes :
"I have just spent a pleasant hour
among the book-barrows which line the
pavement in High - street, Whitechapel.
This spot has an incorrigible cheerfulness.
The barrow booksellers are kind to students
and tasters ; they know that the greater the
crowd the higher will be its percentage of
buyers. For, indeed, many who come to
look remain to purchase. I did not mean
o^yuig, yet I bought four books. How

resist ? These barrows seem to be prolific
in the books one ought to have, that one
has always meant to have, but which
have somehow never been acquired. Hence
I was pleased to pick up the best
single- volume edition of Crabbo's complete
poetical works for three shillings. It was
a clean copy in half-calf, and cheap at the
price. A good copy of Lord Braybrooke's
Pepys in one volume was marked eighteen-
pence; but the seller, ignoring his own
mark, asked, and received, a shilling. For
Percy's Reliques of Old English Poetry — a
book one ought to have, yet may easily
be without — I paid another shilling. The
edition was the fourth, issued by Temple-
man in 1839. On a barrow entirely con-
secrated to fourpenny volumes I chanced
on Bulwer Lytton's Poems in two volumes.
I remembered the descriptions of London
in the " New Timon," and for their
sake paid my eightpence. All these
volumes were in good condition. Indeed,
if I wanted to dissipate any unfavourable
idea which the reader, untravelled in
Whitechapel, might have regarding the
condition of the books so cheaply obtain-
able on the book-seller's barrows, I might
instance two volumes of the poems of Mr.
John Taylor— not the water-poet, but a
theatrical celebrity whose topical poems pro-
claim him to have been the friend of actors
and worldlings in the twenties of this cen-
tury. His effusions, filling two well-printed
volumes, dated 1827, had taken seventy-one
years to reach my friend's barrow, yet they
were immaculately clean and entirely uncut.
The poetry of vanity had but illustrated the
vanity of (some) poetry !

The barrow bookseller from whom I
bought Bulwer Lytton's Poems was very
wUling to talk. " Are fourpenny volumes
your speciality," I said, "or is this a
chance lot that you are clearing at the
price ? "

" Just a fourpenny lot. Next week I
shall have a better stock. It is just as it
happens."

"And where do you buy, if it is a fair
question ? "

' ' Everywhere. Chancery-lane Sale Eooms,
of course ; but everywhere, wherever books
are going cheap."

"Provided the price is right, I suppose
you buy whatever books are to be had.
Your stock seems to be thoroughly miscel-
laneous."

" Yes ; I can sell all sorts of books, and I
like a good mixture."

" Still, there are books on your barrow
which I should have supposed were quite
hopeless. Take this old botanical work,
and these volumes of sermons, and this
obsolete dictionary of science ; who wants
obsolete botany, Blair's sermons, or science-
teaching which was rife sixty years before
the electric light ? "

"Well, people do want them. A book
may be on my barrow a day, or it may be
on it three months — but the customer for it
always seems to come along.

And who,
customers ? "

may I ask, are your best

"Difiicult to say. We are well-know
and people come from all over Londoi.
West End booksellers often look us up, ft
they can buy at our prices and sell at
profit. City clerks stroll along here in thp
luncheon hour, and have a look romi
and, of course, some of them are regul
buyers."

"And what about East End people. Do^
the East End workman buy from you <
his way home?"

"Yes, he does; and many and many
time has a man said to me, when he ^
counting out his coppers : ' Well ; I shai
lose by this, for I shan't go to the publi
house to-night.' Aye, liundreds of tim
I've heard it."

" Do you ever have a bit of good luck
buying books ? "

"No; at least, nothing to speak of.
once had a bit of real bad luck, though,
found in one of my books an old Fie
Prison twopenny bank-note, and I sold it
the Guildhall Museum for half-a-crown.
found afterwards that I might have h
nearer ten pounds for that bit of paper
I'd held on to it."

"Well, in the ordinary way, what afEe<
your business the most ? "

"The weather, to be sure. When
rains we cover up the books and wait till
stops, and if it doesn't look like stoppin
we go home and lose a day's trade. It's r
much of a living."

" Still, taking good and bad together —

" Oh, yes, I get along."

CORRESPONDENCE.

EOUND TOWEES.

SiK, — As coming from one who has h
great experience of books, Mr. Da^
Stott's letter in your issue of Mar
12 is disappointing. No disresj)ect to 1;
Stott is implied in reminding him tb
what he happens to think upon the subji
of Eound Towers is not of nearly so mu
importance as his reasons for thinkr
it, yet that he confines his remarks to
mere egonut dixi, unsupported by anythi
in the nature of argument. He oegi,
by stating that O'Brien's work on t
Eound Towers is "a discredited volume
If by this he means that O'Brien's theo
is by general consent rejected, I m
point out that it has powerful supporte
If he means that it is questioned by son
then it only shares the lot of all theorii
without exception ; whilst if he means tt
it is utterly undeserving of belief, he
simply begging the question. Next,
takes exception to 3'our reviewer's "su
gestions as to the probable need for t
towers," on the groxmd that, as he e
presses it, "a close examination of t
towers would show that in every ca
your suggestions are somewhat out of datf
Here, again, he is simply postidating. H(
does he know that close examination of 1
towers would lead to such a result ? H
he examined them himself ? K "ot, J
is scarcely qualified to speak with su

March 26, 1898 ]

THE ACADEMY.

357

afidence; but if, instead, he is relying
on inferences drawn by Dr. Petrie or
lers, then he is assuming the very point
dispute — viz., whether Dr. Petrie and his
[lowers are right. Mr. Marcus Keane,
10 devoted much care and skill to minute
amination of these towers, came to exactly
posite conclusions ; the Rev. Canon
)urke, on more widely archaeological
ounds, has done the same ; and does
r. David Stott consider himself qualified
decide the issue between all these rival
thorities ? In saying that your reviewer's
ggestions are " out of date," Mr. Stott
PIUS to be under the impression that Dr.
>trie and his school represent a more
3dern view of the case than does O'Brien
d those who side with him. If so, he is
staken. The works of Petrie and of
Brien appeared simultaneously, both
ing competitive essays for a prize awarded
the Eoyal Irish Aeademy in 1832. Mr.
jane's work on The Towers and TemplcB of
ident Ireland appeared in 1867, and Canon
urke's Pre-Christian Ireland in 1887 —
ich ought to be sufficiently " up to date "
satisfy even Mr. David Stott.
Mr. Stott' s next statement is, I confess,
3 that puzzles me sorely. He assures
ir readers that

"/he researches of Dr. Petrie and Mr.
r oi)h Anderson have shown very conclusively
It, taking into consideration the form of
Ise towers, their isolation, and their internal
Dingements, as well as by numerous refer-
iies in the early annals [sic], they were solely
i:-nded to afford an asylum for the ecclesi'istics
u . a place of security for the relics, such as
)ik8, bells, croziers, and shrines under their
fi rdianship. These things were regarded
vlii extraordinary veneration by the Celtic
es, and they took remarkable care in pro-
ng a place for them. The substantial
acter of the building attests that these
;rs were not built for any temporary pur-
KJ^, but to resist the ravages of the Northmen
constant source of terror."

0 more, let me remind Mr. Stott that the
lusiveness of Dr. Petrie's inferences (I
nothing of Mr. Joseph Anderson) is
Isely the point at issue ; which answers
;he following questions might help in
leding :

Have any relics in the shape of "books,
, croziers, and shrines" been discovered
'e those towers? Or if not, how are
towers conclusively proved to have been

as depositories for the same ?

If " the ravages of the Northmen "

not confined to Ireland, as we know is

-0, why is it that Bound Towers are

in Ireland alone, of all places in

in Europe? (N.B. — Mr. Stott must

lie aware that the two which exist in

!id were built by Irish refugees from

ythian invasion, and that England

not possess a single authenticated

'^"juion of such towers.)

•Ilf Mr. Stott wished to hide himself

valuables from expected marauders,

he elect to do so in a conspicuous

100 feet high, which would be better

, il to invite than to baffle intrusion ?

4 Seeing that " the ravages of the North-
Bei ' were necessarily confined to localities

near the sea-coast and the banks of tidal
rivers, how does he account for the existence
of Round Towers in the remote " hinter-
land " of central Ireland ?

Inquirer.
March 12, 1898.

Sir, — There is another need for the
existence of the tower, round or other form
— the architectural or sesthetic one.

The correlative of the round tower exists
in all systems of architecture. A spire is a
necessity in a building ; it gives the aspect
of mental rightness to a structure. The
harmonies formed by the ujjright motion
with horizontal and oblique motions are
readily felt when they occur in a painting.
In architecture the same motions are used,
but under different conditions ; the cause
of the upright motion in a building may be
the contiguous landscape.

The era of the round towers was an era of
architecture invariably right in its motives,
and the use of the towers in that time as
asylums must be taken to be the secondary
use of them.

Archibald Knox.

Douglas, Isle of Man :
St. Patrick's Day.

A QUESTION OF CRITICISM.

Sir, — Miss E. Nesbit asks: "Have the
majority of our lyrics been written to com-
memorate the experiences of the author?"
Surely the right answer is in the affirma-
tive. So vivid is the poet's imagination,
that the emotion which the lyric expresses
has become his own experience, though the
external circumstances of the imagined
situation may be very different from his
own at the time of composition. On this
principle depends the poet's character for
sincerity. The living poetesses on whom
Miss E. Nesbit animadverts, who " either
cannot or dare not attempt to express any
emotions but their own," are therefore
guided by a true instinct, however limited
in its range their imaginative power may
be. They wiU not sacrifice the essential
quality of sincerity for a hollow pretence of
breadth. And how beautiful poetry so
restricted in range may be the late Miss
C. Rossetti has given us manifold proof.

A conspicuous instance of the fusion of
the imagined and the actual is afforded by
Wordsworth's " Lament of Mary Queen of
Scots on the Eve of a New Year," which the
poet teUs us "arose out of a flash of moon-
light that struck the ground when I was
ajiproaching the steps that lead from the
garden at Rydal Mount to the front of the
house." Yet it moves us more deeply than
any merely fancied emotion could.

And, after all, is it not faith in Bro-\vn-
ing's power actually to feel emotions arising
in imagined situations that heartens his
devotees for the struggle with the rugged-
ness and obscurities of his style ? The
poet's function is to create, and it is from
him that his creations must derive their life.
— I am. Sir, &c., Alfred E. Thiselton.

London : March 19.

DIALECT.

Sir, — I have followed with some interest
(or shall I say amusement ?) the discussion
between Mr. Lang and Mr. Quiller-Couch.
Being neither a Scot nor a West Countryman,
I have viewed the encounter dispassionately ;
but a little consideration has compelled me
to ask myself, not which of the two, but
whether either of the two is in the right.
For it seems to me that the real question
to be put is a broader one than has been
put as yet, and that it should be stated thus :
"What is the true worth of dialect in
general?"

A reference to Mr. Quiller-Couch's last
letter shows me that the main points urged
by the defenders of dialect are : ( 1 ) that
dialects preserve large numbers of words
and phrases which modem English has lost ;
and (2) — this chiefly — that to certain kinds
of verse dialect adds a peculiar charm,
essentially poetical rather than philological.
To the former argument I venture to
answer that, to my mind, the fitting place
for such words would appear to be in
a treatise on philology: if words foUow —
and I imagine they do — the law of " the
survival of the fittest," the very departure
of words from our normal speech shows that
they are no longer required. Why, then,
should they not be given honourable burial ?
Obsolete words are often extremely interest-
ing— in their place. But if the words quoted
by Mr. Burrow are examples coming under
this head, I may safely appeal not only to Mr.
Lang, but to all lovers of poetrj' and music
—to say nothing of the Queen's English — to
decide whether, in the case of such expres-
sions as "blooth, tutty, colepexy, hidy-
buck . . .," that place is in a poem in-
tended for modern readers. To the second
argument I would return, that dialect may
add a charm to certain verse, but that that
charm is for native ears, which find a
pleasant home-flavour in the familiar sounds,
while only under exceptional circumstances
does it exist for other oars. Scottish dialect,
no doubt, has charm for a Scotchman,
Dorset dialect for Dorset folk, but how
many of the rest of us, I wonder, appreciate,
say, the songs of Bums because of, and not
rather in spite of, the dialect? And even
then how few of them ! What but dialect
is the cause of the widely different estimates
formed of Burns in Scotland and in England ?
— dialect, with its attractive homo-flavour
for the one, its repellent strangeness of
flavour for the other.

Dialect, as a fact, has its place in art. As
a means of giving the requisite local colour-
ing and of evolving character, it has a right
to appear in literature, but it should be
sparingly emjiloyed. And even here, in
proportion as a writer confines himself to
one particular dialect, and again in pro-
portion as this is the speech of few or of
many, he must look for a restriction of the
audience likely to welcome him. Mr.
Barnes and others may write, but, unless
they be geniuses, they must expect their
audience to be scanty; indee<l the whole
matter becomes one of merely personal
interest, and the writings have little or no
intrinsic right to command general attention,
as have works of merit written in the

358

THE ACADEMY.

OfABCHiZe, 1898.

national language. If Mr. Lang and Mr.
Quiller-Couch are content to view things
in this light, we are agreed.

But if authors are justified in their
employment of dialect by the fact that it
does actually exist, what justification, beyond
that of actual existence, has dialect itself ?
Not very many years ago occurred the death
of the Cornish language (.ff. LP.). This, I
grant willingly, may be a matter of regret
for the Comishman, of interest for the
student ; but let us regard it from a higher
standpoint ; let us suppose that Cornish,
"Welsh, Manx, and the rest, existed still as
flourishing languages. Then either the
inhabitants of the kingdom must be con-
versant with some half-dozen languages,
or intercourse between the various parts must
be terribly restricted, for it is obvious to
what extent unity of language facilitates
mutual intercourse, and tends to produce
unity of feeling and thought. This surely
is of the first importance. Diversity of
dialect is not, of course, diversity of lan-
guage, but it is a question of degree. So
far as a dialect is but a local version of the
common tongue, it is bad English ; so far
as it is more than this, it becomes an obstacle
to be regretted and removed. Again, though
the language may be musical and pleasing,
I have never been able to recognise these
qualities in dialect, but in their stead only
roughness and bad granmiar. And while
we may occasionally regret the gradual
extinction of the former, we should realise
that, with no shame attaching, the weaker
must give place to the stronger, that the
gain more than balances the loss, and that
the tributary tongues may well be proud of
their submission to so magnificent an over-
lord as is our national English. And if
this apply to the genuine languages, how
much more to those nondescript provin-
cialisms which we call dialect, and which
have incomparably less to recommend them;
instead of glorying in them, let us hide
them, or publish them abroad only in the
hope that exposure may bring on consump-
tion and death. There is, perhaps, a certain
measure of excuse for the Scotch, but when
I read, "hech, mon, an' havena the braw
Scots a'ready stown the cuddie ? " (for it's
varra guid Scots, ye ken!)— when I hear
around me, "when her seed she down
along with we back along "—instead of
hnding pleasure in the homely rough-
ness, I ask myself, with more or less
disgust, " Is not our true English sweet
enough and strong enough for us all?"
Both Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Lang will,
I trust, agree with me that our literary
Enghsh— majestic enough for Milton ; strong
and rugged enough for Browning; sweet
and melodious for Tennyson, yet sonorous
and turbulent for Swinburne; calm and
clear for Wordsworth and Arnold as
passionate for SheUey; flexible to meet
every demand— that this standard English
of ours, I say, has no need of aid from any
provincial archaisms or debasements. Let
it rather be the aim of our writers to pre-
serve its purity uncontaminated. Let them
make use of dialect when necessary, as of a
a fact, but beyond that let them show scant
sympathy towards it.
And now, having presumed so far upon

your courtesy, I will
help of my friends, the
prepare for the storm
not the ple«i8ure of
acquaintance, I am, as
you, a near neighbour
merciful ! — I am, &c.
Fowey: March 15.

endeavour, with the
stoic philosophers, to
; for, though I have
Mr. Quiller-Couch's
my address will tell
of his. May he be

W. G. FULFOKD.

A PLEA FOE PUEER ENGLISH.

SiE, — Most heartily do I agree with Mr.
Nesbit both in his criticisms on slipshod
English, and in his belief that a g^at store
of forcible expression is to be found in the
various provdncial dialects, which has not
been adopted into the ordinary book-speech.
But I should like to say a word as to
"huU," which he gives as an example. In
my native district (Eutland) " hull " is the
word commonly used for " throw." In the
cricket-field, one man will call to another to
huU up the ball. A man hulls on his clothes
when he throws them on hastily ; a sudorific
hulls (i.<'. throws) him into a sweat. In all
these cases "hull " is simply equivalent to
" throw," and I have always taken it to be
no more than a variation of hurl. 8. 0.

Eochester : March 22.

"TEEWINNOT OF GUY'S."

Sib, — In your issue of this week, lYewinnot
of Guy's appears as by "Mr. Coulson
Kemahan."

An omitted " s " is a small thing to create
a "difference" between husband and wife,
but it has done so in this instance, I assure
you.

The mistake is very natural, but I should
be glad, for my wife's sake, and her pub-
lisher's, if you will allow me to relieve the
book from the ban under which it might
otherwise lie, and to inform your readers
that "Mr." should have appeared as "Mrs."
— I am, &c., CorLsox Kebxahax.

" Thrums," Westdiff-on Sea :
March 19.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, March 24.

THEOLOGICAL A>'D BIBLICAL.

The Asctext asd Moderx Libkabt of Thbo-
LOGicAi, LrrERATTRK: S. Atjgustixe's
CoxFEssioxs. Law's Sebious Call.
FiBST Pbayeb-Book of Edward TI.
Griffith, Farrsn. Is. each.

Natural Beligiox : the Gifford Lbctuses.
By F. M^a MuUer. Longmans, Green &
Co. OS.

The Closed Doob : Ixsteuctioxs axd Medi-
TATIOXS. By William Walsham How, first
Bishop of Wakefield. Wells Gardner,
Darton & Co. 5g.

HISTORY AJfD BIOGRAPHY.

The CHETHAic Societt : the Chabttlabt of
Cockebsaxd Abbey of the Pbekoxstra-
tkxsiax Ordeb. Transcribed and edited
by William Farrer. Printed for the
Chetham .Society, in 2 Parts.

HiSTOBT OF EjTGLAXD rXDER HEHBT THE

ForBTH. By James Hamilton Wylie, M. A.
Longmans, Green & Co. 218.

UjnvKRsiTv OF Cambbidge College Hij.

TOBIES : COBPUS ClIBISTI. By Bey H. P
Stokes. F. E. Robinson. '

TJinvEESiTY OF Oxford College Histoeie
LixcoLX. By A. Clark, M.A. F. E
Robinson.

FASfors Scots Seeies: Mcxgo Pare. Bt
T. Banks Maclachan. Oliphant, Andaioi. ^
& Ferrier. Ig. 6d.

POETRY. CRITICISM, BELLES LETTEE.*^

Poixts of View, and Other Poem. Bt
G. Colmore. Gay & Bird. .3g. 6J.

Where Beactt Is, and Other Poems. Bv
Henry Johnson. Byron Stevens [%nx^
wick, Maine, U.S.A.).

A New VARioBrM Edition of Sn
Vol. XI. : The Wlxter's T
lippincott Co. (Philadelphia, U -

The Classics for the Million : .
IX Exglish of the Wobk
PRixaPAL Greek axd Latin
By Henry Grey. SLiteenth thoos^Li.
John Long. 3s. 6d.

The ATrxTTDE of the Greek T
towards Art. By John H. li
Macmillan & Co. 3s. 6d.

Philastkr; or, Love Lies a-Blekddtg. i
Plat. By Francis Beaumont and Jcte
Fletcher. Edited by Frederick 8. Bom.
M.A. J. M. Dent & Co. Is.

From ax Ixdian College. By James Qaoigt
Jennings. Kegan PauL 3g. 6d.

Wboxall Abbey, axd Other Poems. By;
David Davenport. Kegan PauL 2i. 6i

SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY.

A Treatise ox Magxetism: and 'Evtcnaan.
By Andrew Gray. In 2 vols. VoL L
Hacmillan & Co. Ms.

A New AsTROXOiTY. By D<iTid P. Codl
American Bcx)k Co. (New York, ic).

Aristocracy and EvoLtnoN : a Sttdt of
THE Rights, the Orioix, and the Soau
Frxcnoxs of the Wealthier Clissis-
By W. H. MaUock. A. & C. Bl«4.

A Maxtal of Sassbrit Phoxehcs. B-. .
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NEW EDITIONS OF FICTION.

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Macaulay's Essay ox Addisox. Bfitei
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MISCELLANEOUS.

Worcester Chixa : a Recori " """U

OF Forty-Five Years, ^

R. W. Binns, F.S. A. Editw i v ». aai« F-
Binns. Bernard Qoarritoh.

Pbofessioxs FOR Boys, and How to Bji»
Them. By M. L. Pechell. Beeto * Ok

An Etox Bibliography. By L. V. &wc«it
Swan Sonnenschein & Co.

TBffi ARCHrTECTTRAL REVIEW : FOB T; :
AND CBAFTSStAN. VoL H. :

November, 1897.
A Short Handbook of On. Axaltsij- -•.'
Augustus H. Gill, Ph.D. J. B. Uff'^ i «
Co. (Philadelphia, U.S.A.). 6s. )|

March 26, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY

359

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Translated by CLARA BELL.
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EPPS'S COCOA.

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360

THE ACADEMY.

[March 26, 18!, 8

Blaisdell

have a

pull

over other

Pencils

BEST LEAD -

- ALWAYS READY -

- NO WASTE.

USED BY

The War Office.

Bank of England.

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Bankers' Clearing House.

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Railway Companies.
The London Stock ExcHANyE.
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other Insurance Offices.

HOW TO USB:

start the paper with a pin or any pointed instrument— a slight pull-
off it comes, and the lead pencil is sharpened. Thirty Fresb Points
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or breaking the lead.

No wood chips are left on the floor, nor any dirty marking-stuff on yonr
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WHAT THE PRESS SAYS:

The Queen.

" What an improvement this is opon the old laborious process of pencil sharpening, and how much
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treated I "

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" It is decidedly an ingenious idea."

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"The 'Blaisdell' self-sharpening paper pencil is a remarkably smart contrivance. The lead is
encased in paper, which can easily be unrolled when a fresh point Is required."

If your stationer does not sell them, send Is. for a set of sample Penci's to —

BLAISDELL PENCILS CO., LIMITED,

46, HOLBORN VIADUCT, LONDON, E.G.

Self "Sharpening.

FOUNTAIN PENS AND STYLO;

The objections to thein,
and how they have been met

Cmteru paribus everyone would rather
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ink, and can, therefore, be used anywhere
and at any moment, in preference to an
ordinary pen, which has to be dipped in
the ink every minute or so.

But fountain pens have acquired a bad
name from two or three general objections
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well," people say, " but it has to be
carried upright, otherwise the ink comes
out in your pocket ; in fact, the ink spiUs
and makes a hideous mess on the smallest
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your pocket) and refuses to emerge until
the pen has been shaken and thumped
until it squirts out a blot on the carpet."

This used to be true ; but the CAW
PEN has met the difficulty. It does not
have to be carried uprig]it ; it can be
carried sideways, upside down, or in any
position whatever. The ink cannot
possibly spill, because it is in a hermeti-
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There is no air-hole.

The pen can be jerked or thrown about
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On the other hand, untQ the CAW PEN
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one of the finest quality) is immersed in
the ink. Consequently it writes at once,
without giving any trouble.

The CAW PEN is not merely the
only fountain pen which anyone cares to
use who has once seen it as a pocket pen,
but it is so convenient for desk use that
it supersedes all other pens whatever.

It is easily filled, and having a wide
mouth does not clog with air bubbles
during that operation. Prices from
12s. 6d.

"Caw pens have a repute beyond their
neighlwurs."— Westminster Budget.

The objection to Stylographic Pens is
that the point rarely suits the writer's
hand, and cannot be adjusted.

The CAW STYLOGRAPHIC PEN
can be adjusted in an instant. It has
not all the advantages of the CAW
FOUNTAIN PEN ; but for people who
prefer a stylo this is the best stylo on the
market. Prices from 5s.

British Depot —
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Printed by ALBXANDBE 4 SHBPHBAED, Lonsdale Printing Works, Chancery Lane ; Published for the Proprietor by PETER GEOHGiB ANDEEWS. «, Chancery lane.

THE ACADEMY.

A WEEKLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.

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Apeil 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

363

CONTENTS.

Reviews :

A Greek Baedeker

Audubon

Literary India

The Later Eenaissanee

Mr. Gregorj''s Letter-Box

A Twelftb-Centiirj' Singer

Briepeb Mention'

The Acaiiemv Sl'pplement

NoTEB AND News

Lv Appreciative Mood :

L Mr. J. G. Frazer

IT. Mr. Arthur Symons

"What the People Read: XII., An Aunt

Paris Letter ...

The Week

The Book Market

Correspoxde.sxe

Book Reviews Reviewed

Books Received

Aimounoements

Faoe

... 363

... 864

... 365

... 366

... 367

... 867
369—3(2

... 373

... 376

... 377

... 378

... 379

... 879

... 380

... ?81

... .382

* «

Next week the Academy totU be published

on Thursday morning.

REVIEWS.

A GEEEK BAEDEKEE.

Pausanias' Description of Greece. Translated,
with a Commentary, by J. G. Frazer,
M.A., LL.D. 6 vols. (Macmillan.)

WE are unable, as a rule, to take a very
complete account of books which be-
long rather to the literature of learning than
to that literature of commerce which neces-
sarily occupies so much of our space, or to
that literature of art which, of all forms of
iterature, seems to us most worthy of
itimulus. But exceptional books demand
exceptional treatment ; and among such
iiust certainly be reckoned the comprehen-
ive and remarkable work which we owe to
lie fine scholarship and prolonged industry
f the author of The Golden Bough. We
ould desire no better model for writers
ngaged in the pursuit of the more academic
ranclies of letters to set before themselves,
t is conceived and carried out on the lines
f the best English tradition, uniting, as it
oes, the characteristic German thorough-
ess with a precision and finish of form
hich is more often found in French than
German treatises. Mr. Frazer is no
sdant, piling up imdigested learning in
tolerable pages ; he has the sense of
yle, and in spite of the vast mass of
jets with which he has to wrestle, contrives
iroughout to be lucid, orderly, even elegant.
pu may read him for erudition ; you may
jad him also, dipping almost anywhere
jto his three thousand pages, more or
Ijis, for entertainment. And the introduc-
t'H, in which Mr. Frazer deals with
1J3 personality of Pausanias and the scope
c his book, is a critical essay of the
iii water. Judicious and penetrative in
1 estimate of the writer, it is cast from
I ginning to end in nervous and scholarly
I glish, and rises at times to heights of
c isiderable eloquence. To the fascination
0 Greek scenery, and the rich associations
0 poetry which cling round it, Mr. Frazer
i^ieculiarly sensitive. This is a fine passage
oithe "storied" land:

Pausanias points out the old plaue-tree

to the wars ; the great cedar with an image of
Artemius hanging among its boughs ; the sacred
cypresses called the Maidens, tall and dark and
stately, in the bl«ak upland valley of Psophis ;
the myrtle-tree whose pierced le« ves still bore
the print of hapless Phrodra's b( dkin on that
fair islanded coast of Troezen, wUere now the
orange and the lemon bloom in winter ; the
pomegranate with its blood-red fruit growing
on the grave of the patriot Menoeceus, who
shed his blood for his country. If he looks up
at the mountains, it is not to mark the snowy
peaks glistening in the sunlight against the
blue, or the sombre pine-forests that fringe
their crests, and are mirrored in the dark lake
below ; it is to tell you that Zeus or Apollo or
the Sun-god is worshipped on their tops, that
the Thyiad women dance on them above the
clouds, or that Pan has been heard piping in
their lonely coombs. The gloomy cavfrns,
where the sunbeams hardly penetrate, with
their fantastic stalactites and dripping roofs,
are to him the haunts of Pan and the
nymphs. The awful precipices of the Aroanian
mountains, in the sunless crevices of which
the snow-drifts never melt, would have
been passed by him in silence, were it not
that the water that trickles down their dark
glistening face is the water of Styx. If he
describes the smooth glassy pool which, bor-
dered by reeds and tall grasses, still sleeps
under the shadow of the shivering poplars in
the LemsBan swamp, it is because the way to
hell goes down through its black unfathomed
water."

The description of Greece by Pausanias,
known as the Periegete, is a document of
unexampled importance to students of
antiquity. Pausanias was a Lydian by
birth and a traveller by choice. He had
visited Syria, Egypt, Eome itself. About
the middle of the second century he set
himself down to write a systematic account
of the actual condition of the Greece of his
day — its peoples, its monuments, its cults,
to some extent its manners and customs.
His work was executed in great detail and
with remarkable accuracy, and remains an
authority of the first class for the identifi-
cation of sites and buildings, preserving in
addition the memory of some antiquities
and many customs which would otherwise
have been lost. Pausanias' aim seems to
have been thoroughly practical : he is the
prototype of the Baedeker or Murray of
to-day. And he wrote at a most happy
time. Under the beneficent rule of the
Antonines Greece was enjoying an Indian
summer of peace and prosperity ; her
splendid literature was putting forth its last
boughs in the youngest of the classics,
Plutarch and Lucian. The greatness of the
past had yet not quite faded into oblivion ;
and yet it was the past that was great.
The vitality of Greece was exhausted.
Pausanias looks backward with a deliberate
and melancholy retrospection. He is a
careful antiquary, gathering up shreds of
custom and fragments of art that may any
day be swept clean out of sight. His
eyes are fixed on the lieroic ago from
his standpoint in the decadence. His own
interests appear to havo been mainly
religious and archcoological. Now and
then he gives you an insight into the
daily life, describing, for instance, how the
apofiiecaries distil "balms for the hurts of
men" from roses and irises upon the field of

Hellenic freedom was made. But for the
most part he wiU turn away alike from daily
life and from natural beauty when a monu-
ment or a cult is in question. Not to
Pausanias, but to the fragments of Dicsear-
chus, must you turn for that pretty descrip-
tion of the women of Thebes :

" The women are the tallest, prettiest and
most graceful in Greece. Their faces are so
muffled up that only their eyes are seen. All
of them dress in white and wear low purple
shoes laced so as to show the bare feet. Their
yellow hair is tied up in a knot on the top of
the head. In society their manners are Sicyon-
ian rather than BcBotian. They have pleasing
voices, while the voices of the men are harsh
and deep."

Pausanias, alas ! had no eyes for the
women of Thebes ; ho is too intent on the
Ismenian sanctuary and the career of Epa-
minondas. And so it is everywhere. Men
and women, his contemporaries, are little to
him :

" For all the notice he takes of them, Greece
might almost have been a wilderness, and its
cities uninhabited or peopled only at rare inter-
vals by a motley throng who suddenly appeared
as by magic, moved singing through the streets
in gay procession with flaring torches and
waving censers, dyed the marble pavements
with the blood of victims, filled the air with the
smoke and savour of their burning flesh, and
then melted away as mysteriously as they had
come, leaving the deserted streets and temples
to echo only to the footstep of some solitary
traveller who explored with awe and wonder
the monuments of his race."

w oh Menelaus planted before he went away Chaeronea, where the last great stand for

Pausanias, then, has his limitations. But
to the folklorist and the art student he is
invaluable. His descriptions of cults and
rituals bring you down to strata of Greek
religious belief quite distinct and of earlier
significance than the familiar mythology
which owes so much, after all, to poetic
imagination. He discovers some of the actual
working observances and superstitions of an
Aryan peasantry, with their curious touches
of savagery, their curious ILkoness to customs
which lie at the root of the world's fairy
tales, and are effective to the present day
in lands remote from civilisation. He will
tell you, for instance, how at the festival of
the Dasdala the Platseans wiU deck fourteen
wooden images in bridal array, wUl drive
them upon wagons to the top of Cithasron,
and there, at a solemn sacrifice, will bum
images and victims together in a mighty
blaze. Or he will tell you how at Troezen,
when the south-west gales from the Saronic
Gulf threaten the tender vine-buds, the
husbandmen will tear in half a white-
feathered cock, run round tho vineyards
with the pieces, and then bury them in the
earth for the protection of the crops. One
thing, alas ! he will not tell you — the secret
of the mysteries; what it was they did in
tho great hall at Eleusis, or Andania, when
the doors were shut upon the initiated and
the profaitum nilgm left to gape outside.
Eeligious curiosity and love for the historic
renown of his country alike led Pausanias
to take an interest in the monuments. In
such sanctuaries as the graveyard of Athens
he loved to linger. And well he might :

" There almost every name was a history as
fidl of proud or mournful memories as the names
carved on the tombs in Westminster and St.

364

THE ACADEMY.

[Apeil 2, 1898.

Paul's, or stitched on the tattered and blackened
banners that drojp from the walls of our
churches. The annals of Athens were written
on these stones— the story of her restless and
inspiring activity, her triumphs in art, in
eloquence, in arms, her brief noon of glory and
her long twilight of decrepitude and decay.
No wonder that our traveller paused amon<
monuments which seemed, in the gathering
light of barbarism, to catch and reflect some
beams of the bright day that was over, like the
purple light that lingers on the slopes of
Hymettus when the sun has set on Athens."

Theatres, temples, tombs, treasuries—
these Paiisanias rarely passes by without a
mention. And of the greater works of art
his descriptions are detailed and exact.
Modern excavations have confirmed and
been confirmed by many of them. And
often enough the notes of Pausanias alone
preserve the record of vanished splendours.
Of the famous paintings of Polygnotus at
Delphi only a patch of blue paint on a wall
remains ; yet from Pausanias' pages archa)-
ologists have made shift to reconstruct the
scheme and composition of them all. More-
over, as Mr. Frazer is careful to point out,
the taste of Pausanias soems to have been
uncommonly good. Like Luoian, the
keenest literary intelligence of his day,
he selects for admiration precisely what
the cultivated modern mind most ap-
plauds ; Phidias, Alcamenes, and even
the more archaic pre-Phidian things are
his favourites : most of the work of the
decadence, Scopas and Lysippus them-
selves, he is austere enough to pass by un-
commended. This is the more notable,
in that Pausanias was by no means
on Lucian's level, intellectually. Mr. Frazer
defines him for us as rather an average
man, "made of common stuff and cast
in a common mould." He belongs to
the better type of tourist, and has many
of the qualities of the class, the some-
what discursive inquisitivenoss, the con-
ventional ethical judgment, the ready but
not very penetrating verdict. He had
literary ambitions, but small literary
skill ; his style is a halting, clumsy thing,
which has lost simplicity without attaining
to eloquence. He is no philosopher, but is
touched with philosophic rationalism. lie
accepts the orthodoxy of his day, with
exceptions. His disbeliefs are sporadic and
arbitrary. Sometimes he will explain away
a myth as an allegory, sometimes he permits
himself a decent scepticism. That Zeus
was changed into a cuckoo, or Narcissus
into a flower, he can hardly swallow ; or
that beasts listened to Orpheus as ho sang,
or that Orpheus himself went down to hell
in search of Eurydice. But of the gods
themselves, and their powers, he suggests
no doubt, Similarly he is chary in his
acceptance of travellers' tales :

"Among the fish in the Arsanius are the
so-called spotted fish. They say these spotted
fish sing like a thrush. I saw them after they
had been caught, but I did not hear them utter
a sound, though I tarried by the river till sim-
set, when they were said to sing most."

" Fish-tales," you observe, are of early
origin. This, then, is the manner of man
Pausanias was. Mr. Frazer concludes with
a defence of his author's veracity and value

as an authority, both of which have been
impugned.

The first volume of Mr. Frazer's work
contains a translation of the text of Pau-
sanias, and the remarkable introduction to
which we have already referred. The sixth
is an index. The remaining four are occu-
pied by a commentary, in which are liberally
inserted a number of maps and plans, and of
other illustrations, mostly reproductions of
coins. Mr. Frazer's plan is to follow his author
closely, and to supplement his statements on
points of topography, folklore and antiquities
by all the available modern information at
his disposal. This is partly derived from
two personal visits to Greece, but mainly
from the vast stores of Mr. Frazer's wide
illustrative reading. Copious references to
innumerable authorities — English, French,
and German — are given throughout, and
space is often saved, on points of folklore,
by reference to the author's Ooldsn Bough.
Mr. Frazer not only has the learning of the
matter at his finger-ends, he has the gift
of summarising, briefly and clearly, the
essential points of an elaborate investigation;
and his commentary becomes practically an
encyclopedia of the very extensive archro-
ological excavations carried out in Greece,
mainly by the archroological schools at Athens
during the last quarter of the century. The
chief centres of this work have been at
Mycena) and the neighbouring centres of
pre-Acha3an civilisation, at Athens and
Eleusis, at Olympia, at Megalopolis, at
Delphi ; and in each case the results up to
the latest possible date are garnered up by
Mr. Frazer. The very latest discoveries of
all, those made by the French at Delphi,
find a place in the fifth volume. The Delphic
remains include, in addition to the great
temple of Apollo, a large number of
" treasuries," which staud beside the Sacred
Way, within the precinct, and contain the
offerings of the particular states by whom
they were dedicated. The friezes of one of
these, variously ascribed to the Siphnians
and Cnidians, have recently been un-
earthed, and prove to be very perfect
examples of the best sixth century sculp-
ture. Mr. Frazer gives an excellent helio-
gravure of portions of this frieze, as well
as a full description. It is the most
important of recent additions to our know-
ledge of Greek art.

Adequately to deal with Mr. Frazer's
magnum opus within the space at our disposal
is impossible. "We trust that we have said
enough to show that it is a work which no
scholar or lover of antiquity can afford to
neglect. To have produced it is an honour
to Cambridge and to England.

AUDUBON.

Audubon and His Journals. By Maria E-
Audubon. "With Zoological and other
Notes by Elliott Coues. 2 vok. (Nimmo.)

I It would not be possible within any reason-

I able limits even to touch briefly on the

, immense number of interesting topics raised

in these handsome and substantial volumes.

We shall therefore confine our attention to
what the naturalist's granddaugliter de-
scribes as their main object : " I have tried
only to put Audubon t/m man before my
readers." At this time of day it is by no
means easy to form a just estimate of his
singular character. The old jealousies of
oniithologists — of George Ord and Waterton
and Alexander Wilson, for instance— have
not ceased to operate. Peeping through
the tangle, on one side is the picture of a
vain, selfish, unhelpful, jealous rival; on
the other is the gay and kind Audubon of
family tradition. How are we to decide
which is the real man, which the mere
emanation of an image of him conjured up
either by friendly or hostile minds ?

The first stej) towards some degree of
clearness is to remember that, naturalised in
America and married to an English wife,
Audubon was French, and typical of his
nation. To assert after this that he was
not vain would be a contradiction in terms.
The man is not wanting in what the Scotch
call "a guid conceit" of himself who
lingers on the idea that he is a Napoleon of
his own craft, and sets down with evident
pleasure a chance caller's remark that his
features resemble those of the great con-
queror. Nor if you listen to Audubon com-
paring his own bird-pictures with those of
anyone else will you blame him for excessive
modesty. Yet, as is often the case with
Frenchmen, his vanity was of the most harm-
less and natural description, and so free
from envy and ill-feeling as to disarm the
fault-finder. For the key to the enigma is
that a fine simplicity was the basis of his
character. Sir Walter Scott — than whom a
more acute judge of men never lived — dis-
cerned this at the first interview. " His
countenance " (we quote from Scott's
Journal) " acute, handsome, and interest-
ing, but stiU simplicity is the predominant
characteristic." Audubon's graphic de-
scription of the gi-eat novelist is well worth
transcribing :

" Sir Walter came forward, pressed my hand
warmly, and said he ' was glad to have the
honour of meeting me ' ; his long, loose silverj
locks struck me ; he looked like Frauklin at his
best. He also reminded me of Benjamin West :
he had the great benevolence of Wilham Eoscot
about him, and a kindness most prepossessing.
I could not forbear looking at him ; my ey«
feasted on his countenance. I watched his-
movements as I would those of a celestia
being ; his long, heavy, white eyebrows striicli
me forcibly. His little room was tidy, thougl
it partook of the character of a laboratory. Hf
was wrapped in a quUted morning-gown oi
light purple silk ; he had been at work writing
on the Life of Napoleon. He writes close lines,
rather curved as they go from left to right, »nc
puts an immense deal on very little paper.

Lovers of old Edinburgh will find muct
to interest them in the "European" Journal^
which fills most of the first volume
Audubon had gone to make arrangements
for the publication of his great work, and tlif
keen observer graphically describes such
celebrities as Lord Jeffreys and Chriatophei
North, the clever old ladies for whom in thf
old days the modem Athens was famous,
the dinners of boiled sheep's head, the
potations of smoky whisky that nearlj'
choked him. But there was "one occurrence

April 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

365

that moved him with the force of tragedy.
He was an Absalom as to his hair, which
lie wore long, and society ruthlessly decreed
that he should be shorn. The dreadful
sacrifice was recorded in his journal within
a deep black border. The entry, of which
a facsimile is given, reads thus :

"March 19, 1827.— This day my hair was
sacrificed, and the will of God usurped by the
wishes of man. As the barber clipped my locks
rapidly, it reminded me of the horrible times of
the French Eevolution, when the same opera-
tion was performed on all the victims murdered
by the guillotine ; my heart sank low."

He had come to this country imbued with
a French hatred of England, natural enough
to the time, but was agreeably surprised
by the unostentatious kindness and ready
appreciation with which he was met. Paris,
far richer in professions, was wretched in
performance, and he draws his countrymen
with a very disappointed pen :

" September 15. — Prance, my dearest friend,
is indeed poor ! This day I have attended at
the Eoyal Academy of Sciences, and had all
my plates spread over the different large tables
and they were viewed by about one hundred
persons. ' Beau ! bien beau ! ' issued from every
mouth ; but ' Quel ouvrage ! Quel prix ! ' as
well. I said that I had thirty subscribers at
Manchester ; they seemed surprised, but acknow-
ledged that England, the little isle of England,
alone was able to support poor Audubon. Poor
France ! thy iine climate, thy rich vineyards,
and the wishes of the learned avail nothing ;
thou art a destitute beggar and not the powerful
friend thou wast reputed to be."

We must forbear further quotation, but it
would be extremely interesting to reproduce
some of his account of the visit to New-
castle and meeting with Thomas Bewick,
the old engraver being then over seventy
but as full of kindliness and vigour
18 over.

The "Labrador" and " Missouri Eiver "

lournals, which end vol. i., are attrac-

ive mainly from a zoological point of

•iew. Audubon was not a deeply learned

laturalist ; it was the solid labour

f MacGillivray that gave enduring value

~> his Birds of America. But his writing

as the same graphic, animated style

liat makes the charm of his pictures,

nd a certain imp;;es8ionableness enables

im to render the atmosphere and feUing

E wood, river, sea, or swamp with un-

scelled force. Tlie second volume is

ainly taken up with "episodes," written

r his ornithological biography. Derived,

they are, from frontier, woodland, and

1'airie when these were still unsettled, what
rikes us most is the romantic material they
ntain. There is, in particular, one called
The Death of a Pirate," so strange and
Hrrible that it might well have suggested
Mother Treasure Island to E. L. S., for the
Ire record leaves wide scope to the imagi-
1 tion. The ruffian died after slaying all
Hi pursuers, but he would have none of con-
f jsion or of spiritual advice, regarding death
amo more than a jest, were it not for the
p|n. Only from his broken words do we
n an inkling of his wild and lurid
cieer.
From these fragmentary jottings the reader
perhaps be able to form at least a rough

idea of this remarkable book ; and perhaps
it will be best to leave him to form his own
opinion of its hero — the simple, vain, affec-
tionate man of the woods ; musician, artist,
writer, naturalist, and hunter; at once
Parisian, savage, and man of the world.
Whatever else may happen, he shows at
least one quality in this book for which we
are grateful — he is always entertaining.

LTTEEAEY INDIA.

A Literary History of India. By E. W.
Frazer. (Fisher Unwin.)

Tins is an excellent, an invaluable book,
filling a want which must often have been
felt by the reader who, not a specialist,
nevertheless wishes to know something of a
literature which he dimly understands to
be important. The learning and reading
which have gone to the compilation of Mr.
Frazer's volume are great, yet he handles
them with a clearness and order too fre-
quently absent from books of this kind.
He fails only where all Europeans fail — in
his comments on Hindoo religious beliefs,
rites, and philosophies, which are the out-
side comments of a Western rationalist,
misleading rather than helpful. But this
we expect, when the West writes of the
East. And his account of these things is
accurate. It would be a mistake to regard
the book solely as a history of Hindoo
literature. It more resembles a history of
Hindoo thought. Not only are special
sections devoted to the exposition of Brah-
manism and Buddhism, but the various
Hindoo philosophies are dealt with in their
historical order. Now the history of philo-
sophy in the East is equivalent to the
history of religion in the West. It may be
conceived, therefore, how large a task the
author has set himself ; since he has also to
incorporate a certain amount of political
history to keep things together, and render
them intelligible. We could wish, almost,
that the book had been strictly an account
of Hindoo literature, in the narrower sense.
As it is, the space devoted to individual
poets, &c., is so small that the outsider gets
but little knowledge of their character ;
while of the philosophies we doubt whether
he wiU get any knowledge at all. The
account of Kapila's teaching, for example,
is unintelligible to an outsider without
certain necessary explanations ; such as that
sound and touch, &c., do not signify the
senses so-called, but certain modes of sub-
stance, analogous to the forces which pro-
duce sound and touch on this earth — a very
complicated concejition, not to bo explained
or understood in few words. In the same
way, to translate manas by "mind," and
linga-sarira by " a subtle body " gives the
English reader no notion of Kajjila's
meaning.

But it is to the literature proper that most
readers will turn. Many of us can hardly
conceive those swarthy myriads as having a
literature at all. In truth, it is a singularly
different literature from our own. The great
drama of Kalidasa, " Sakuntala," has hardly

any action. It depends almost wholly on
the beauty of its verse ; and accordingly it
is not possible to give any idea of it.
Bhavabhuti is the great dramatist usually
associated with Kalidasa, and of him Mr.
Frazer g^ves specimens — extracts from an
incantation scene— which may be appalling
in the original, but certainly are not in
the translation. The difficulty here, in fact,
as with regard to all foreign literature, is
translation. It is seldom that the gift of
song is combined with the gift of Sanscrit ;
and too surely that fortunate union has not
been attained by the translators of whose
versions Mr. Frazer makes use. The most
interesting specimen of drama which he
gives is also by far the longest, and is from
a play with the euphonious title of " The
Mud Cart." It is exceedingly singular to
the Western reader. The heroine, who is
devoted to the hero, a pious Brahman, and
is pursued by the villain, the king's brother-
in-law, is a g^rl whom Mr. Frazer euphemis-
tically calls a " wanton," and the Brahman's
wife apparently assents to the connexion. Of
the two great Hindoo epics, the "Eamayana"
and the "Mahabharata," we have only the
stories given us. Of the "Kurral," the
" masterpiece of South Indian genius," we
have specimen couplets in the version of Dr.
Pope, which, we are assured, preserves "in
an unrivalled manner the form of the
Eastern setting." They are like this :

" The pangs that evening brings I never knew,
Till he, my wedded spouse, from me with-
drew."

" Though free from fault, from loved one's
tender arms
To be estranged a while hath its own special
charms."

No, it will not do. The joys of reading
such poetry we leave to others. We are
content to know that the " Kurral " is a
very fine poem, and to wait till we can read
Tamil. The one thing which comes alive
out of the ordeal of translation is the Vedic
hymns. These, doubtless, depend more
upon ideas and less upon cunning language,
hence the way in which they retain their
force. Take this line or two from the
" Eig-Veda " :

" Goddess of wild and forest who seemest to
vanish from the sight.
How is it thou seekest not the village ? Art
thou afraid ?

Here one is calling to the cows, another there

has felled a tree.
At evo the dweller in the wood fancies that

somebody hath screamed."

There is conveyed a sudden sense and
picture of the " spirit in the woods."

It must, however, be remembered that
Mr. Frazer's object is to present a history
of literary development, not to give a series
of specimens. And the book, though diffi-
cult to quote, is most interesting to read.
Very remarkable is the extent to which
the mysticai loves of Krishna and Eadha
became the almost exclusive theme of the
later Indian poems, from Jaya Deva t» Sur
Das. Under this symbol was signified the
desire of the Soul for the Over-Soul; and
the same theme, in a narrative rather than

366

THE ACADEMY.

{APEtt 2, 1898.

lyric form, was sung by Tulsi Das (whom
Mr. Frazer calls the "great master-poet of
Northern India"), Eama and Sita taking
the place of Krishna and Eadha. In the
Middle Ages this cultus even had its female
poet, commentator, and prophetess in the
person of Mira Bai. Mr. Frazer has brought
his book down to modem times, and con-
cludes with a survey of the writers who are
endeavouring to unite Eastern and Western
ideas in literature ; the novels of Bankim
Chatterji, the poems of Torn Dutt, are things
singularly interesting to the English mind.
Whether the experiment of writing novels
in a country where that form is not native,
and suchlike Western innovations, will really
produce a revival of national literature,
remains to be seen. But whatever may be
the new literature, here is an excellent
book on the old.

THE LATER EENAISSANCE.

The Later Renausance. By David Hannay.
" Periods of European Literature."
(Blackwood.)

This instalment of literary history begins
with Spain, and Spain is the interest of the
book. There is perhaps some injustice to
other countries which might claim to repre-
sent the Later Renamance more properly
than Spain, but this is of little importance.
The proper test for a literary history of this
scale is whether it encourages the reader to
learn more of the books and the authors that
it treats of ; and Mr. Hannay's history is one
that quickens curiosity in the right way. It
leaves the reader properly discontented with
his own ignorance and want of spirit, and
in a mood for exploration. There can be no
doubt where his course wiU lie, if he foUows
this director : not to the Italians of the age
of Tasso, not even by preference to watch
the adventures and experiments of the
French poets, and the rising of the Pleiad ;
but to the South- West, to the stage of Lope
and Calderon, to the Sierra Morena, even
(though here Mr. Hannay is not quite so
encouraging) to look for the humours of the
market-place in the confessions of Lazarillo
and his kin.

On one point an objection must be entered,
without hesitation. It is scarcely compre-
hensible that Mr. Hannay, with his love of
the language, and his ear for the fluent
rhy thins of the natural Castilian verse, should
apologise for the ballads, and deprecate com-
parison with Lockhart's rendering. It may
be admitted that the two things are very un-
like; there is a wide difference between the
Spanish simplicity and the clinking smart-
ness of the translation. There may still be
some fortunate people in this country who,
knowing the romancero, are ignorant of the
English imitations. They may be warned,
if they have any respect or gratitude for the
biopapher of Scott, to leave his Spanish
ballads alone, and believe that those, in
their turn, are at their best in the cheerful
minstrelsy of Bon Oaultior.

Mr. Hannay quotes from Lockhart :

" I ride from land to land,

I sail from sea to sea ;
Some day more kind I fate may find.

Some night kiss thee."

" What can be more pretty or more fit?"
asks Mr. Hannay ; and then he repeats, and
condemns as bathos, the stanza that begins :

" Andando de Sierra en Sierra
Per (irillas de la mar " —

a ballad measure that certainly has a
different kind of fitness from the staccato
monosyllables of Lockhart's song. Merci-
fully, he forbears to quote Lockhart's dull
defacement of ^& Rime of the Count Arvaldos.
This is the only serious blemish in Mr. Han-
nay's criticism ; the drama, the books of
chivalry, the c/usto picaresco, and more besides
of the great classes of Spanish literature are
represented shortly, yet in no perfunctory
manner. In the dramatic part one essential
thing is brought out, namely, the true
dramatic life of the comedies of " Cloak and
Sword," some of which are to this day among
the liveliest of all old plays. Conceal-
ments and surprises have never been better
managed than in those comedies. It is
perhaps to be regretted that the plan and
limits of the book seem to have left out
the French dramatists who did so much to
make " Spanish plays " the fashion; they
gave those plots a vogue in England that
lasted at any rate to the days of Mrs. Jordan,
who played Beatrice in Kemble's Pannel,
a comedy derived from Calderon. Some
things, it is true, were incommunicable and
untranslatable in the Spanish comedies —
the grace of the language, the dignity of
manner, the harmony of honour and levity,
in the Fairy Lady of Calderon and all her
numerous sisters.

The literature to which the title of "Later
Eenaissance " is most applicable, the
Italian, is not treated here with equal
zest. Perhaps the title is not taken quite
seriously enough, though the concluding
chapter does a good deal to g^ve a summary
and commanding view of the changes which
are called by the worshipful name of
Renaissance. In the treatment of French
literature, as has been already remarked,
there is some want of congruity with the
Spanish chapter. Alexandre Hardj' is
left for the next volume : it would be
interesting to see his romantic experi-
ments in drama set against their con-
temporaries in Spain, and even to have
the archaic arrangement of his stage
referred to, in comparison with the
Autos of Calderon, and their adherence
to the old customs of the Mysteries and
Miracle Plays. But these points are unim-
portant ; the great thing is to have written
a new guide book for some of the brightest
regions of literature, which wiU bear the
test of actual travel in those countries. It is,
perhaps, imavoidable that the more familiar
history of Elizabethan literature in this
volume should be a little put out of
countenance by the foreign glories of Spain
and France with which it is here allied.

ME. GEEGOEY'S LETTEE-BOX.

Mr. Gregory's Letter-liox, {813-1830. Edited
by Lady Gregory. (Smith, Elder & Co.)

This volume will be of interest to students
rather of politics than of letters. William
Gregory became Under-Secretary for Ireland
in 1813. His post made him head of the
permanent administration of Irish affairs,
the much debated Dublin Castle, as well as
bear-leader to successive Viceroys and Chief
Secretaries. He served under Lord Talbot,
Lord Wellesley, and Lord Anglesey, and
lost his office shortly after the passing of
Catholic Emancipation in 1829. The letters
now published by Lady Gregory are drawn
from the correspondence of her husband's
grandfather during those years, now in
the hands of his descendants. They are
mostly official or semi-official in character,
and though many of them are merely appli-
cations for tide-waiterships and other places
of emolument, others throw a good deal of
light on the troublous times that preceded
Emancipation and on the opposition of
Gregory and his like to that measure. Lady
Gregory appears to be by no means in
sympathy with the "Castle" attitude to-
wards Irish politics ; nevertheless, she
naturally tries to put her central figure in
as favourable a light as may be. And
indeed he was evidently a man of great
personal popularity and even merit —
amiable, courteous, desirous up to his
very imperfect lights to do his duty to
the country. But it is very obvious that
his dismissal was inevitable if Peel's policy
of conciliation was to have any chance of
success. He had neither the imagina-
tion nor the sympathy necessary for
the understanding of the Irish tempera-
ment. The letters that passed between
him and that kindred spirit, Lord Talbot,
show a determination to thwart in every
way the growth of more liberal ideas than
had hitherto prevailed at Dublin. The
maintenance of Protestant ascendancy— that
is their war-cry. At conciliators such as
Grant or Lord Anglesey, who had at least
the right spirit in them, even if they were
occasionally wanting in official tact, the
Castle makes a dead set. Lady Anne
Gregory is instructed not to call on Lady
Anglesey.

Gregory, himself an Englishman, was
but little in contact with real Irishry,
and, therefore, the reader's expecta-
tion of a budget of Hibernian humour
must needs be disappointed. Such good
stories as there are do not, as a rule, come
from the letters, but have been worked in
in the process of editing. The best is one
told by Lord aoncurry of a "barony
constable" of the ante-Peel period. The
only qualification of these guardians of the
peace was a certificate of having taken the
Sacrament at the parish church. Lo™
Cloncurry, in swearing in one of them, and
expounding his official duties, came to that
of preventing the straying or grazing of
cattle on the public roads, and was in-
terrupted with : " And where am I W
keep my own little cow, my I^ i
There is a touch of humour, too, rnm
account of the Dublin Beef-steak Club,

April 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

367

which beg'an as a musical, but after-
wards became a Tory place of meeting.
It was here that, when Lord Wellesley's
removal from the post of Viceroy was
annovmced, " The Exports of Ireland" was
to his groat indignation, given as a toast.
Of George the Fourtli's visit to Ireland in
1821 Lady Gregory tells us :

"He arrived after a good passage, during
which much goose pie and whisky had been
consumed. Word had just come of the death
of Napoleon at St. Helena, The story goes
that ' Sire, your enemy is dead,' were the words
he was greeted with. ' When did she die ? '
was his response. But the Queen was indeed
also dead, and his Majesty was persuaded to
wear a piece of crape round his arm during
the festivities, which were in no way cur-
tailed,"

It is somewhat touching to learn that,
although the Dublin crowds shouted for the
King, they did not know how to cheer, as
"they had not had much practice in the
expression of jjublic joy."

A prominent figure in the correspondence
is old Lord Talbot of Ingestre, who had
been Lord Lieutenant, but, like Gregory,
though at an earlier date, was ousted by the
spirit of conciliation. The two remained
cronies, and wrote despairing letters to each
other on the prospect of emancipation. Lord
Talbot was a worthy old gentleman, but he
could only speak of the Bill as " the
horrible evil which is now hanging over
us " ; and when he saw that its passing had
become inevitable, he writes to Gregory :
" Depressed in spirits, deprived of hope, I
wandered about London like one possessed
with an Evil Spirit."

the day of his finally quitting Palestine in
October, 1192. Like Gamier de Pont Ste
Maxence, the author of the Chanson de la
Guerre Sahite was a minstrel by profession.
The cachet of his occupation is on
every page. Does he svish to praise the
valour of Geoffrey de Lusignan at the
barricades of Acre — he tells us that the hero
dealt blows of which a "Eoland" or an
"Oliver" might be proud; and the later
songs of Tristran, and of Aspremont;
those of the " Saisnes," of "Arthur," and
of Pepin, were as familiar to him as was
the " Chanson de Eoland " itself, fiut he
prides himself on having something bettor
to give his audience than doubtful history
or palpable fable.

" Of these old chansons de geste," he writes,
"those of which minstrels make so great a
to-do — I cannot toll you whether they be false
or no, nor coidd I ever find a man w'ho would
go Warrant for their truth ; but all that I tell
you of the hf at atid cold and sufferings endured
before Acre is truth, aye and a right good
story it is to listen to."

BRIEFER MENTION.

Benson,

A TWELFTH-CENTtJEY SINGEE.

Z'Mlotre de la Sainte Guerre. Par Ambroise.
Publiee d'apres le MS. unique du Vatican
par Gaston Paris. (Paris, 1897.)

Foe nearly twenty - five years English

modiiovalists have been looking forward

to the publication of the poem before us —

a poem which, so far as its matter and its

form are concerned, is worthy to take its

place by the side of those two other rliyming

iproducts of the early French historical

nuise. Gamier' s Vie de St. Thomas de

Cantorbire and the anonymous Life of the

Great Earl Marshal, so lately given to the

ivorld by M. Paul Meyer. It is singidar,

ind perhaps not altogether to the credit of

English scliolarship, that these three works

—each in its way of such capital import-

mce for our early history — sliould be

)resentod to the English-speaking public by

oroign scholars. The " Song of Ambrose,"

ow published for the first time in its

ntirety, is nothing less than a history of the

'bird Crusade, told from an English point

t view in rhyming octosyllabic Old-French

erse by an Anglo-Norman poot who was

ne of Eichard Cojur-de-Lion's companions

1 that great enterprise from the moment of

is leaving England in December, 1189, till

It is with something of a minstrel's dis-
appointment that he teUs us that in the
hurried Christmas feast at Lion-sur-Mer in
1189 there was little time for singing
chansons de geste — doubtless a record of his
own disappointment. And when, at the very
close of the expedition, he makes his way
into tho Holy City to pay his reverence to
our Lord's tomb, it is under the wardship)
of Eaoul Tesson, " a great lover of song
and music " : " Eaols Tessons qui mult
amoit notes et sons." He was present
when Eichard Coeur-de-Lion took Messina,
" quicker," to borrow his own striking
phrase, "than a priest could sing matins" ;
he was a guest at the great banquet which
the same king gave to Philip and his French
lords in his wooden castle of " Matte-
GrifEon " on Christmas Day, 1190; and he
breaks out into an ingenuous rapture over
the splendour of the scene, taking special
care to note amidst all the glory of silver
plate and richly carved goblets the homely
English point that the table linen was of a
spotless purity.

The " Song of Ambrose " does not contain
so much absolutely newhistorical information
as might have been expected. And this for
a simple reason. Ambrose is one of those
unfortunate authors whose legitimate fame
has been stolen from them by a plagiarist.
He had hardly given his poem to tlie world
when an unscrupulous contemporary laid
his hands upon it, and, after cancelling
every passage in which the true author
mentioned his name, turned it into Latin
with a pompous introductory letter in
which he, the translator, claimed to have
written the whole work. This plagiarist
had tho assurance to go further still, and
apologise to his readers for any deficiencies
in style on the plea that his work had been
written during tho course of the Crusade
itself. For nearly 700 years the laurels of
this really great work— for stich, judged
from a twelfth century standpoint, Ambrose's
poem is — have been resting on an impostor's
brow ; and now, at last, M. Gaston Paris
has come forward to restore his proper
honours to a lonur-defrauded man.

The Life Work of Edward White
D.B. By J. A. Carr, LL.D.

THIS is an unpretentious biography of
the late Archbishop of Canterbury.
Much of it might have been compiled
from the files of the Times ; and much use
has been made of the Archbishop's own
sermons and writings. But the quantity
of intimate and special matter is not
contemptible ; and the book will stand
good as a biography till a better and a
fuller one is written. Benson was a
bom Churchman. As a child he was
called the " little bishop," and his
early passion for sermonising was such
that ho often harangued the silent
machinery in his father's chemical factory.
One is again and again impressed by a
certain sweetness, freshness, and naicete
in the man. When he was appointed to
the headmastership of Wellington College,
then rising on its brown and breezy plateau,
he said: "Who am I that I should be
privileged to see Ambarrow every day of
my life ? " The Archbishop was an anti-
quarian. He was steeped in Church lore ;
and, reading his life, we come very near to
the heart of the Anglican Church. When
Archbishop

"he possessed a master key, which would open
all the doors and gates in the cathedral ; and
sometimes when staying in Canterbury he
would steal away from the Deanery, and shut
I himself up alone for a long while in the place
known as ' Becket's Crown,' where is the
marble chair of Augustine."

While this book does not alter or even raise
our estimate of the late Archbishop as an
ecclesiastical statesman, it familiarises and
endears him as a man.

Andree and his Balloon. By Henri Lachambre
and Alexis Machuron. (Constable.)

Nothing could be more precise and definite,
or more clearly intelligible, than the por-
tions of this book which deal with the
scientific side of Andree's expedition — the
construction of the balloon, and the devices
for overcoming the difficulties and averting
the dangers which beset his attempt — and
so far it is of the utmost interest ; but, on
the other hand, nothing could be less in-
spiring than the dismal sprightliness and
spurious heroics by means of which the
authors have sought to win popular interest
and to excite the enthusiasm of the general
reader. It was Andree's misfortune that
the initiation of his adventure was too nearly
synchronous with Nansen's triumpliant
return. Besides, his method — whether
because of its seeming crankishness or
because it suggested a base evasion of
the difficulties which traditionally beset
the adventure — failed to win any consider-
able measure of popular sympathy. But
the probability, which day by day grows
stronger, that the expedition has already
succumbed to the rigour of the ruthless
North should by this time have rehabilitated
the expedition in the public esteem.
It was on July 1 1 of last year that Andree's

368

THE ACADEMY.

[Apetl 2, 1898.

balloon made its start from Spitzbergen.
Two days afterwards came the last winged
rumour of it that the world of men has
received; it had then made 187^ miles.
The machine might be expected to remam
afloat not more than sixty days. After
that the little company of three must
take to their feet and the toy boat they
carried with them, and for food must
trust largely to powder and shot. It is
certain, therefore, that if the members ot
the expedition are yet alive they have
already been for some months reduced to
the plane of earth and to circumstances
which justify keen anxiety on the part of
their friends and of all who are open to the
appeal of a splendid courage. But English
hearts would warm so much more readily
to " the hardy explorers " if the narrative
were not interspersed with such hydras of
sentimentality as this :

" When will he see again that charming
Swedish girl, whose photograph which he has so
of ten shownme, and carries next his heart. . . ."

" . . . What anxiety, what suspense, await
that poor young girl ? "

" But what joy will follow the glorious return
of her beloved ! What firm bonds of affection
will bind them together after this long, hard
separation !

Oh ! how I wish them this happiness with all
my heart ! "

So do we, but we should have expressed it
otherwise.

By Arthur Waugh.

Legends of the Wheel.
(Arrowsmith.)

In this little book Mr. Waugh would do for
cyclists what Mr. Norman Gale has done
for cricketers. All the philosophy of the
Eipley-road is here, and some of the humour,
introduced by this motto :

" The legend comes full cycle now.
And in our Age of Steel
The New Ixion bends his brow
Above the deathless wheel."

Considering how little the cycle does for
literature or human nature, Mr. Waugh has
made (for the cyclist) an interesting book,
and has shown dexterity enough in rhyme
and metre to merit the title of Laureate of
the wheel. Best, we think, of his verses is
the parody of Mr. Henley's " Song of the
Sword":

" Winger of woman,
Banishing petticoats,
Bringing the female
(Long since irrational)
Eational dress.
Ho ! then, the polish
And pride of my ministry.
Ho ! then, the gleam
Of my guttering nickel-plate.
Ho ! then, the Park
And the pleasaunce of Battersea.
Ho ! then, the hose
Of my deftly-shod womankind.
I, the ubiquitous
Angel of Exercise,
I am the Bike."

A man, however, must have more catholicity
of taste than we possess before he can ex-
tend his approval of the Angel of Exercise
to reading about it, except in makers'
catalogues.

Certain Ttagical Discourses of Bandello.
Translated by Geffraie Fenton. Edited
by Eobert Langton Douglas. Tudor
Translations. 2 vols. (D. Nutt.)

These little novels of Matteo Bandello, in
the luscious euphuistic English of Geoffrey
Fenton, are so rarely to be met with that
Mr. Henley is to be thanked for including
them in his admirable series. They are so
suave, so simple and particular, so innocent
of guile, yet at the same time marked by
so pleasant an impropriety, as to make
them most refreshing reading. Hardly any
Elizabethan book could be named more
foreign to Victorian literary methods. Take
any passage :

' ' And albeit she was neither fyne in attire,
sett out in robes of riche arraye, nor deckte
with apparell for the decoration of her naturall
baautye, yet appeared she no lesse precious in
the eye of this gallande than if she had bene
trimmed for the uonste in the same order that
the poetes faine of the browne Egypciane,
when she was broughte to lye wy th the Eomaine
capteine, Marcus Anthoninus. He fayled not to
reiterate his haunte with an ordiuarie trade to
the streete of Janiquette, resolvynge his com-
mon abode or jjlace of stage righte over againste
her lodginge, whiche increased her doubte of
that mistereye, till nature, that discusseth the
darknes of such doubtes and bringes the most
rude creatures of the worlde to be capable in
the argumentes of love, revealed unto her the
meanyng of thatridle, sayiuge that the roundes
and often tornes with vaylinge of bonnett,
whiche the proude pirott made upon the dore
of her fortresse, was no other thynge then the
intisynge harmonie of the Syrenes, or other
state, to allure or make her plyable to th'
appetite of his will."

What leisurely times these lengthy periods
imply ! What hours of idleness to beguile !
Thus do Bandello's stories wind their gentle,
deliberate way through a world of appetites
and dolours.

To Fenton's edition, which was published
in 1567, and is one of the few instances
where we feel the translator to be the equal
of the original author, Mr. Douglas prefixes
a serviceable preface. The reprint is dedi-
cated to Mr. Meredith— "To George Mere-
dith, these essays in an art wherein his
achievement has made him illustrious."
But it is a far cry from the superficiality of
the Tragical Discourses to the profundity of
The Egoist.

Hints on the Management of Hawks, and
Practical Falconry. By J. E. Harting.
(H. Cox).

It will probably be a surprise to many of
our readers to learn that falconry is still
practised at all; but not only will Mr.
Harting' s book convince them to the con-
trary, but so zealous a partisan of the sport
is he that it may even make converts of
them. Look at this glowing passage :

" Few persons, except those who have experi-
enced it, can reaUse the feelings of a falconer
when flying a hawk which he has tamed and
trained himself. To see a brace of weU-trained
pointers or setters quarter their ground, stand,
back, and drop to shot, returning from a
distance obedient to their owner's whistle, is,
undoubtedly, a grand sight, and one to gladden
the heart of any man who has the faintest hive
of sport in his nature ; but to see a falcon leave

its owner's hand, take the air, and mounting
with the greatest ease, fly straight at the rate
of a mile a minute, and then at a whistle, or a
whoop, and a toss of the lure, turn in its flight
and come out of the clouds to his hand, is to
see a triumph of man's art in subduing the
lower animals, and making them obedient to
his will.'

One rubs one's eyes on reading such a
passage as that, in a volume dated 1898.

The Monroe Doctrine. By W. F, Eeddaway.
(Cambridge: University Press.)

The history of the Monroe doctrine from
its first suggestion by Canning to its final
development in the hands of President
Cleveland is carefully and accurately told in
this treatise. The author agrees with those
who believe that the mind at the back of
Monroe's famous message was that of J.
Quincey Adams, and states the argument with
much clearness. But he contends with un-
necessary earnestness that this purely uni-
lateral declaration of the American Govern-
ment has not the force of international law. It
comes within the sphere of the law of nations,
only in this way, that while admittedly a
nation may intervene between two others
when its own integrity or peace or wel-
fare is threatened, the world now has
the advantage of knowing beforehand
that the United States will regard certain
acts as equivalent to such a menace. The
American people, with unarmed hands
sheltering the peace of a hemisphere, cannot
help contrasting the lot of the New World
with that of the Old. The result of that
contrast is a passionate resolve to keep tlie
blood tax from the Americas, and to see that
the New World is not made a scene for the
repetition of the feuds and the ambitions of
Europe. They have seen how another con-
tinent has been parcelled out; how the
doctrine of the hinterland has been pressed ;
and how certain it is that in a little while all
the Old World quarrels, the dynastic bicker-
ings, the race rivalries, the frontier disputes,
and the standing armies of Europe will he
mimicked and reproduced upon the soil of
Africa, from Alexandria to the Cape. With
this tremendous object-lesson before them,
the Americans cling with redoubled faith to
the policy formulated by Monroe. It is
interesting and important to note how the
language of the American Presidents has
grown stronger with the growing strength of
the States. Intervention, which Monroe
spoke of as " the manifestation of an un-
friendly disposition," Mr. Cleveland roundly
denounces as a " wilful aggression upon the
rights and interests " of America. But then
Monroe spoke for eleven millions of people,
and Cleveland for seventy.

The Statesman's Year-Booh, 1898. By J.

Scott Keltie, LL.D. (MacmiUan & Co.)
The thirty-fifth issue of this annual contiuiis
several additions and improvements, lor
example, Mr. Keltie has introduced diagrams
showing the rise and fall in imports and
exports for the past twenty-five years m tM
British empire and in many of the countries
with which we have large commercu re-
lations. A map of West Africa, illus-
trating the Niger question, is another userai
addition.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, APRIL 2, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.

A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

The Londoners.

By EOBEIIT HiCHENS.

Here we Lave the " Society " Mr. Hicliens pure and simple. The
drawing-room occultism and brilliant tawdriness of Flames is for-
sworn. The Londoners is a very modem novel, and the characters
are "smart." It is the merry, superficial, witty story of Mrs.
Verulam, a pretty and charming widow who thought she was tired
of Society, of her dainty struggles to escape, and her efforts to get
Mrs. Van Adam (masquerading as a man) into the whirl. As Mr.
Van Adam has divorced Mrs. Van Adam the task is difficult. But
Mrs. Verulam is not deterred by trifles : "I liojie your husband
divorced you," she says, " for something American, such as wearing
your hair the wrong colour, or talking without an accent."
(W. Heinemann. 338 pp. 68.)

Comedies and Eeeoks.

By Henry Habland.

Twelve short stories by the author of Grey Roses, who has won
his spurs as a teller — adroit and delightful — of little tales. Most
br all of these appeared in the "YeUow Book," of which Mr.
iHarland was editor. The writer of Comedies and Errors has style,
jind a method all his own. (John Lane. 344 pp. 6s.)

BToxTNO Blood.

By E. W. Horndng.

In this, his first book since that excellent story Mij Lord Buke,
tfr. Homung employs some of the methods of Charles Eeade.
)n6 is reminded of Sard Cash again and again. The tale deals
rith the disappearance of an ironmaster, and his son's endeavours
0 make a living and track his father's enemies. The chief value of
he book resides in Gordon Lowndes, a Micawber-like company-
romoter ; but Mr. Hornung is nowhere at his best. Even here,
owever, he has many merits above the average novelist, and his
nthusiasm never flags. (Cassell & Co. 332 pp. 6s.)

ETsvEEN Sun akd La^d. By W. D. Scully.

Mr. Scully's Kaffir Stories were a year or so ago welcomed as
bod work. Here he returns to his kopjes and treks, with which,
iving been Civil Commissioner for Namaqualand, and special
agistrate for Cape Colony, he is familiar enough. His book is
rong moat. The first story shows the vicissitudes through which
ax, a young Jew, had to pass before he could marry Susannah.
' le second is an epic of cattle. Mr. Scully has both cynicism and
newer of vivid writing. (Methuon & Co. 294 pp. 6s.)

f coND Lieutenant Celia. By Lillias Campbell Davidson.

This is a very heavy book to hold, but, none the less, it offers
Ijht reading. It is modem and flippant and amusing. Celia is a
%-boy, who so loves her officer brother that she rides a bicycle
ilhis flannels, and cuts her hair short, military fashion, and earns
t|) nick-name which gives the story its title. Those who like
ties of garrison life, and all the frivolities and heart-aches apper-
tjoing thereto, wiU like this book a good deal. And John Strange
\f.nter, if she reads it, will realise that she has a capable rival.
""lero are several smart illustrations. (Bliss, Sands & Co. 318 pp.
3i|6d.)

AWoM.uf Worth Winning. By George Manville Fenn.

Ir. George Manville Fenn's latest story is about a jealoiis
iiband whose feelings carry him to the point of injming his
-»! locted rival. The results are tragic. The supposed lover loses
iiil reason and is sent to a private lunatic asylum by the
reiorsefid husband. The disappearance of the wife is also
exjlained. Though gruesome enough in its plot, the story is
witen with a light hand, and much of it is an amusing reflex of
Sdoty. (Chatto & Windus. 377 pp. 6s.)

BiJLi, THE Dancer. By J. B. Patton.

A romance of India by one who has an intimate knowledge of
the native character. The love of a Pathan nobleman for a dancing
girl is the central motive — indeed, the only motive. The subject is
treated with dignity, the scene is laid at Eonaki, in Northern India,
and the characters are all natives. A book for Anglo-Indians.
(Methuen & Co. 344 pp. 6s.)

A Stolen Liee. By Matthias McDonnell Bodkin, Q.C.

Dr. Vivian Ardel is cycling along the Embankment. Casually,
he dives into the river to save a beautiful girl who throws herself
over the parapet (see frontispiece). At the Hotel Cecil the Doctor
" tosses " the cabman a sovereign. " The smartest man in
London ! " says a clean-shaven Yankee, as the dripping girl-laden
doctor flashes through the vestibule. " And the richest ! " adds his
wife. " And the handsomest ! " — his daughter. The hero resusci-
tates the angel, orders the hotel about, plunges into his bath, and,
emerging therefrom, hastily pencils " a luncheon menu at once,
costly and substantial." And so on. (Ward, Lock & Co. 320 pp. 63.)

The Lust of Hate.

By Guy Boothby.

A hot melodrama, compact of murders, hypnotism, hansoms, and
gold dust. The hero's hatred toward a gold digger who had
stolen from him the secret of a mine is fanned by our old friend
Dr. Nikola, the villain of the story ; and Gilbert Pennethorne is
led to believe that he has actually murdered his old enemy. Things
are righted, and Dr. Nikola discomfited ; but a series of murders
of peers of the realm, each of whom is asphyxiated and denuded
(each time in italics) of his left eyebrow, is among the preliminary
horrors. When we leave the hero he is rapturously assessing the
virtues of his wife — forgetting our fatigue. (Ward, Lock & Co.
283 pp. 68.)

Miss Betty's Mistake.

By Adeline Sergeant.

Miss Sergeant describes her novel as simply "A Story." It is
just that and no more ; it reminds us of certain tricks with a piece
of string, wherein a vast tangle is made to disappear like magic.
Miss Betty's is not the only mistake. A daughter loves a father
who is not her father, and a mad mother who is not her mother.
Miss Betty is betrayed. Love is tossed about on a sea of misunder-
standing. And the result is only "a story" : not a criticism of
life. (Hurst & Blackett. 325 pp. 6s.)

John Ship, Mariner. By Knakf Elivas.

"In this, the autumn of my life, my dear children have many
times urged me to set down, in such order as may be, the relation
of those adventures, hardships, and mishaps through which it has
pleased a gracious Providence to bring me scatheless." So it
beg^ins ; and so — following familiar and honourable lines — it con-
tinues until the end, when he at last possesses " a wife beyond
compare, tenderost of helpmates, sweetest of companions, dearest
and truest of all women in the wide world." On the way
there are, among other matters, the tortures of the Inquisition.
(Sampson, Low & Co. 304 pp. 6s.)

Across the Salt Seas. By J. Bloundelle-Bueton.

The author of The Ilispaniola Plate and The Clash of Arms is safe
for a good story of adventure and fray. Here he offers yet another.
The hero, who relates the tale, fought in the Netherlands in the
reign of William III., and subsequently, under Anne, took part in
the siege of Vigo and saw the death of many Spaniards. Mr.
Bloundelle-Burton's chapter headings are earnest enough of his
brave methods : " Secret Service " ; " The Taking of the Galleons " ;
"The Cowl does not always make the Monk"; "The Dead
Man's Eyes— the Dead Man's Hands," and so on. (Methuen
& Co. 333 pp. 6s.)

370

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Apeil 2, 1898.

The Eev. Annabel Lee.

By Egbert Buchanan.

Mr. Buchanan casts his story in the future, at a time when
healthy men need to eat only once a week, and the religion of
humanity has taken the place of Christianity. Then arises Annabel
Lee, who has nothing to do with Poe's poem, and preaches the old
creed, assisted in her crusade by Uriel Eose the musician. And in
the end Uriel Eose is condemned to death and is thus the first
martyr in the revival. A hectic, hysterical romance of the typo
called "spiritual." (C. Arthur Pearson. 255 pp. 6s.)

Stoeies Swobn to be True (Series II.)

By a Barrister.

Here are seven stories in all, and truth now and then is stranger
than fiction. The author's method has been to delve in old law
reports for the skeleton of his work, and then fill in. The filling in
might have been more generously done. (Horace Cox. 104 pp. Is.)

All They Went Through.

By p. W. Eobxnsgn.

A collection of very readable short stories and sketches. We
selected " Thomas Jones's Trouble," and found it to be a
description, by Thomas Jones, of the inconveniences he suffered in
living near Timothy Jones. " T. Jones, of Hatchingdon Green,"
might be either the needy poet or the prosperous solicitor — hence
the mistakes made by talljTaen and butchers' boys and " hire
system" collectors. When the local paper announced the "Mys-
terious Disappearance of Mr. S. T. Jones," and Chips — young Chips
of the War Office — offered misplaced sympathy, then Thomas Jones's
" Trouble " culminated. A more serious tone marks other stories
in the book. (John Long. 316 pp. 6s.)

A Bride of Japan.

By Carlton Dawe.

This is the story of an Englishman marrying — despite the
sneers of his friends — a beautiful Japanese girl, daughter of
a market-gardener. Briefly, it is a study of a mixed marriage
and its tragic consequences. Daidai, the ugly old rice-grower,
whom TresQian had forestalled in the affections of Sasa-San, is a
striking figure, prophesying woe and shame to Tresilian. Woe
and shame come ; but Tresilian proves that he can play the man as
well as the fool. A very readable story. (Hutchinson & Co.
293 pp. Bs.)

Youth at the Prow,

By E. Eentoul Esler.

This book contains ten short stories. The first and longest
is called "The Philanderer." The philanderer is Eoderick
Weston, a barrister, who uses a poor but high spirited girl as
his plaything while negotiating an advantageous marriage. His
discomfiture when, fifteen years later, he offers himself as a
widower to the girl he had disappointed is a good passage in
a story which, as a whole, is well written. (John Long.
234 pp. 3s. 6d.) ^

The Story of Lois.

By Katharine 8. Macquoid.

This story, by the author of Patty, The Red Glove, &c., is
dedicated to Mr. Gladstone. It is the story of Lois Ercott's
determination to become an actress. Her father, an old Indian
chaplam, is terror-stricken at the thought, but Lois and fate are
too strong for him. Yet his fears for his daughter are weU
grounded ; Lois meets success and a husband, only when she has
met failure and a scoundrel. (John Long. 310 pp. 68.)

REVIEWS.

Poor Max.

By the Author of The Yellow Aster.
(Hutchinson.)

Tm author of The Fellow Aster has in her new novel attempted a
difficult and exacting piece of work, and it is a pleasure to be able
to con^atulate her on her striking success. Max Moriand is one of
toose characters who cannot be measured by the ordinary standards.
He 18 an original ; one of those personages whom the world likes to
sum up m the word—" impossible." In writing the every-day history

of such a man, in treating him as a mere mortal, an author is in great
danger of becoming either dull or hysterical, and it is no mean
tribute to Mrs. Caffyn's (we drop a meaningless anonymity) art to
say that Foor Max is readable from cover to cover, and that the
" impossible " hero of the book is not only possible, but convincing.

When Judith married Max Moriand she was completely under
the spell of his charming personality. It was, after all, no wonder,
for we, too, though we have only met him in cold print, have seldom
come across a more attractive and altogether delightful man. When
he talked — and he talked incessantly on every subject under the
sun — she listened to the voice of a god. She placed him on such a
high pedestal that a very little shake brought him down with a
crash at her feet — a fallen idol. In one moment she discovered
that she had never known him ; at a single stroke she was called upon
to revise all her estimates of his character. "For an hour did Judith
sit without a move or an emotion, patiently forging on to the truth,
her intelligence minute by minute exjjanding steadily and strangely."

It was a very bitter awakening, but it made a woman of her, and
we like Judith better as a woman than as an unthinking, worship-
ping machine. Max was, she discovered after all, a chUd, whicli comes
very near to being a god. He demanded and received from Judith
continual watching, continual care, continual forgiveness. He was
reckless and thoughtless ; one of those perverse men of genius who
deluge the world at large with brilliant epigrams, always forgetting
that conversation, however sparkling, does not go far towards
paying butchers' bills. He was a bundle of contradictory emotions,
hopeless and beaten when brought face to face with life's realities,
cringing helplessly before the cruelty of existence. And in spite,
and a little on account, of all his manifest weakness, he was always
charming, always attractive. Mrs. Caffyn has realised her hero
most thoroughly, he is true to himself right down to his heroic
death, and to readers of her book " poor Max " wiU be for a long
time to come a very pleasant and refreshing memory.

The other characters in the novel are, without exception, well
drawn. Judith strikes us as being the least consistent figure, and
we are quite unreconciled to her conduct after her husband's death ;
but Lady Grindal, Graves, Sandy, and the boys are all excellent.
There is not a dull page in Poor Max, and this in spite of the fact
that the action is very limited. The book is packed with smart
sayings and delightful conversations, and it is altogether far above
the common run of fiction. It is one of the few really clever psycho-
logical novels that can be read with uninterrupted pleasure.

Sunlight and Limelight. By Francis Gribble.
(A. D. Innes & Co.)

Many books have made their market of that curious attraction
which the middle-class public feels towards the naughty unknown
of stage Bohemia. This is one of the least pleasant. " Sunlight "
in the book there is none, or anjrthing fresh and natural. It is all
limelight, and limelight by no means of the first quality. Even
when the characters begin to talk grandiloquently about " real
life " and " pure art " you feel that it is all pose, and that they will
swing back to their melodrama in the next sentence. If Mr.
Gribble wrote with an idea of repelling the stage-struck, he should
surely attain his end, for a more repellent, unwholesome world than
the stage-world as he presents it can hardly be conceived. Mr.
Clement Scott himself could paint the thing no blacker. The
heroine, Angela Clifton, is a leading lady, run after by society and
the newsi^apers, but fulfilled of vanity, and bereft alike of ideahsm
and of the sense of honour :

" Whispers of the Master's assiduous attentions got abroad, but did
not harm Angela in the world's opinion. There was no open scandal ;
nothing was known for certain. The fact that she always appeared iu
society without her husband caused no censorious comment. Not every
one knew that she had a husband, and to those who did know it never
occurred to include him in their invitations. For the rest, she was an
actress, and actresses were allowed a certain hcense, so that it was only
properly piquant that such reports, always provided that they were not
too defijiite, should hover round her name. As Lady Breiil said: 'I'
one believed everything that one heard about actresses it would be n})-
possible to invite them to one's house, and so many men who hate parties
can be got to come to Harley Street to meet them.'

Moreover, Angela had at least laid the sohd foundation of a
virtuous renown by her attitude towards the Earl of Eichborough.
This white-haired veteran of gallant adventure had begun by ofieiiug

\.PRIL 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

371

fellery as a tribute to her talents. She had accepted the jewellery,
the spirit iu which a queen will accept a present from her humblest
iject ; but when the donor explained, with all possible delicacy and
:rteou8 consideration for her feelings, to what proposals the presents
re the prelude, she turned upon him, and declaimed her indignation
;he manner of an injured heroine of traeedv."

e seamy side of the theatre is kept to the front throughout,
lywrights, actors, managers, patrons, and hangers-on, all alike,
ording to Mr. Gribble, are made up of all that is sordid, artificial,
1 sensual. Kisses and caresses are as common as "cues," and
iry man neighs after his friend's wife. We are given the out-
3 of two or three plays, said to be the work of men of genius,
t smacking most distinctly of the Adelphi ; and the rest of the
ry circles around stage-doors and green-rooms, with a brief
sode in the Engadine, where the engaging Angela seduces an
line climber in a snow -hut.

\i.i. Gribble has undoubted talent. "We trust he will see Lis
y to exercising it on Eome more worthy subject.

Plain Living. By Rolf Boldrewood.
(MacmiUan & Co.)

E improbability which is inherent in the plot of this tale is no
• to its enjoyment. Harold Stamford, of Windaghil, is em-
rassed. A dry season has depleted the sheep on his station.
! banker has sent him an ultimatum. But when the night is
kest the dawn is nearest. Harold Stamford comes in for a huge
une. But with his intense relief comes intense anxiety lest
1th should corrupt his home, lest luxury should sap the growing
Jlity and sweetness of his boys and girls. He therefore conceals
il good f ortime through long years, until his children have passed
ijage of danger. Then comes the happy revelation. But in the
I n while Stamford does not find it too easy to play his quaint
ii of needy man :

He often smiled to himself as he found what an amount of con-
itious reluctance to accept the unwonted plenty he was compelled
imbat. Did he effect a surprise of a few rare plants for his flower-
wife, she would calculate the railway charges, and ask gravely if
/as sure he could afford it. Did he order a new riding-habit for
a, a hat or a summer dress for Linda, they were svire they could
.mt the old ones do for another season. It was interesting to watch
iticonilict between the nitural, girhsh eagerness for the new and
aabls and the inner voice which had so long cried ' refrain, refrain ! '
1 lat sorely tried household."

h story is a piece of pleasant quixotism. It is a book to read
and that merrily.

A Chapter of Accidents. By Mrs. Hugh Eraser.
(Macmillan & Co.)

Vi are grateful to Mrs. Hugh Eraser for her amusing chronicle

E ishaps. Two smart people go down to a country house in

>ei n bent on their own schemes, and the result is so disastrous

ia both at the end become more reasonable and goodnatured.

s a delightful madcap, and the whole tale goes rattling

!i the probable and the unlikely with a very pleasant spirit.

ii)k makes no pretence to be serious fiction. The two

'Ts, indeed, are drawn with much insight; but the other

1 of the house — even tlie adorable Ivitty — are mere trait

uis, with a gentle tinge somewhere of caricature. The style

I n«t and attractive ; sometimes it even takes on the colour of

i'i"nii, as in the description of Alicia Marston — "a creature of

iiiults made unbearable by large patent virtues." High

, — in fiction are always welcome ; and when these are joined,

e, mth something of art and a very kindly humour, the result

1 ac iptable to every reader.

j JosiaKs Wife. By Norma Lorimer.

(Methuen.)

Yol married a devil, Josiali," said Josiah's wife, Camela. Nor

far wrong. For, as appears in the opening chapter of the

amela was a perfect whirlwind of a woman, with the artistic

luient, an enormous capacity for discontent, and an uncon-

— M desire to squeeze life dry. Camela's husband, Josiah

Skidmore, was a man whose best qualities did not strike the eye
first. He was a teetotaler, a Seventh-day Baptist, and kept a ready-
made clothes store, which was lucrative, but did not conduce to
refinement of manner. One could scarcely imagine a worse matched
pair. It is the task of the author to show how Josiah and his
wife, after bickerings which led them to the eve of divorce, dis-
covered that they were really very fond of each other. It is a difficult
task to render credible the mingling of natures so antagonistic, and
it is a proof of Miss Lorimef's skill that when we saw Camela in
Josiah's arms we believed our eyes. Miss Lorimer prescribes foreign
travel as the remedy for square-toed American storekeepers who
cannot hit it off with wives of artistic temperament. First, Camela
goes off for a year in Europe. She spends some time in Sicily, flirting
— quite decorously — with Walter Norreys, an Englishman who ia
horribly afraid of compromising himself. There are some pretty
pictures of Sicilian life and ways. When she returns, Josiah
irritates her more than ever, and Cousin Mamie, who has been
looking after the deserted husband's dinners, introduces a further
complication. Then Walter Norreys, who has come to Boston on
business, carries off Josiah to England, gives him a round of
country-house visits, and teaches him a thing or two ; while the
American Courts are haggling over the divorce. On his return he
meets his wife, dramatically. But instead of an ill-dressed man of
admirable character, but no manners, she finds a man who has been
fitted out by a West-End tailor, and knows how to behave. So she
does not want to be divorced any more. Josiali has loved his wife
all along ; and that is how they reach one another's arms. It is a
well-told story, with a good idea at the back of it.

Devil's Apples. By Mrs. Lovett Cameron.
(F. V. White & Co.)

Long experience always means something in the making of fiction.
Here is this story with a thin and threadbare plot, and with no
characterisation worth speaking about ; and yet, inasmuch as Mrs.
Lovett Cameron has written many tales, she manages to keep our
interest alive in the puppets to tlie end. To be sure, it is rather
a mechanical sort of interest. We want to know what hapjjens to
the people, and see how the writer works out a climax which we
are morally sure of from the beginning. The book is fuU of
glaring faults. Blanche's progress from extreme healthiness of
body and mind to homicidal mania is not made credible ; Angus is
an ugly little caricature ; the hero is conventional beyond words ;
and the sentiment is always just on the verge of silliness. But to
talk like this is to judge the work by a standard which it does not
aim at. The average novel reader seeks a clear and well-developed
plot, and does not trouble about originality ; and if you add a
facile grace of writing and plenty of wholesome reflections, he aska
for nothing more.

AFTER THE TOUR.

RE)fONSTRANCES FKOM Mb. AntHONY HoPE AND Mk. AnDREW LjVNO.

Only a week ago (remarks 77ic' New York Critic) we published a
letter from Mr. H. O. Wells, in which ho complained that his latest
story, The War of the Worlds, had been grossly garbled, to
meet the sensational needs of two American newspapers. To-day
we print a card from Mr. Anthony Hope, protesting against
the publication in this country of bogus interviews in which he was
made to ridicule and decry the American people. We appreciate
the compliment of being asked to set these gentlemen right in the
eyes of the reading piildio, but regret that they should have been
made the object of such gratuitous discourtesy.

"To THE Editoes of The Critic.

' The American people need not, and, presumably, do not, care what
I s»y about them ; but I do care what they say about mo, since I have
received from them infinite kindness and an appreciation too generous.
The reports of my utterances about America since luy return are, so far
as they have come to my notice, entirely inaccurate— I may say untrue.
To the best of my recollection I have said nothing of what is attributed
to me, and it in no way rejjresents my thoughts ; even if I had such
thoughts, I trust tbat my manners would not be so bad eis to allow me

372

THE ACADEMY .SUPPLEMENT.

LApeil 2, 1898.

to express them. Let me thank you, then, for ref usmg to believe that
Mr. Hope is a cad' on the strength of these silly mventionB; perhaps
you will also be kind enough to refuse to believe, on the same evidence,

that I am an ass. .,, ■, t 4.1,;=

I suppose it is not customary to attempt to sift paragraphs ot tms
description in any way before publishing them as facts. If some sucli
process is not altogether impossible in a newspaper office, it would seem
to be desirable. In the present state of affairs a wise man treats aU
paragraphs as more or less amusing fiction ; probably this is only taking
them in the spirit in which they are offered by their ingemous authors,

London, March 2, 1898.'

Anthony Hope.

It will be seen from the following letter (the Critic continues) tliat
Mr. Lang is more loyal than the king, resenting, in Mr. Hope's
behalf, an expression which Mr. Hope himself takes in good part,
as it was intended to be taken. He is disloyal, however, in
assuming the possibility of Mr. Hope's having spoken as he was
reported to have done— an assumption which we ouraelyea expressly
repudiated.

" To THE Editobs of The Critic.

The delicate question as to whether Mr. Anthony Hope is, or is not,
a cad is raised by the Lomir/cr (19ch February). It is not forme to
offer an opinion about nuances of manners, and ' cad ' may be a desirable
term to use in a journal of literature. But ' cad' carries certain school-
boy associations which, in the land of its birth, rather unfit the term for
critical employments.

Censures of this kind are usually in the air, when a foreign man-of-
letters has paid a public visit to the United States. M. Paul Bourget
did not wholly escape ; Mr. Nansen was ' said to have abused us,' now Mr.
Hope is a possible ' cad,' and but dubiously ' gentlemanly,' because he is
reported to have said things about interviewers and feminine t/auclieries.
"Whether he said such things in public or private, or not, I know not,
but I do know that he was certain to be said to have said them, just hke
Mr. Nansen. And then there was sure to bo excitement.

Foreign men-of-letters must know that these and similar amenities
almost inevitably follow a public tour in the United States. It is easy
to see why tliey make such tours — namely, for money ; but not so easy
to understand why the practice is encouraged on your side of the water.
What has your side to gain ? You can read Mr. Hope's books or any
Briton's books at a moderate price, without leaving your firesides, and
his books are the best things that the British or any other author has to
give you. As an orator he is seldom distinguished. His personal beauty
does not often warrant you in laying out money for the purpose of
brooding fondly on his charms. Then what do you want with the
foreign author — in the flesh Y His strong point, believe me, is in the
spirit.

We are so convinced of this that neither British nor foreign men-of-
letters are run after in England, except occasionally by ladies who have
not read their books — or any books. That kind of lady always loves to
see a ' celebrity,' and, from some strange imimlse of conscience, she
generally tells an author that she has read none of his works, or she pays
him a compliment on a book by some other person. These, at least, are
the engaging yaucherics of the British woman who finds herself in com-
pany with a literary ' celebrity.' She thinks she must converse about
his books, concerning which she is exhaustively ignorant. Conceivably
this kind may also exist in America. There is a great flutter about an
author, his moustache, boots, manners, and future performances, among
people who have not opened any of his volumes. Do people of this kind
make literary tours in America profitable ? As to money derived from
such exhibitions, olet. I wish British writers would ' swear oath and
keep it with an equal mind,' never to visit your hospitable country as
readers or lecturers. But, even so, do you think that they would escape
the odium of being said to have said things ?

' In the name of the Bodleian,' as Mr. Birrell impressively asks, what
has all this tattle to do with literature ?

St. Andrews, Fife : March 4." ^_ LANG.

HAEOLD FEEDERIC.

PoE a recent number of the Cha^-Sooh Mr. Stephen Crane wrote an
appreciation of his elder brother in the art of fiction, from which
we have extracted the following passages :

"It was my fault to conclude beforehand that, Eince Frederic
had lived intimately so long in England, he would present some
kind of austere and impressive variation on one of our national
types, and I was secretly not quite prepared to subscribe to tho
change. It was a bit of mistaken speculation. There was a tall
heavy man, moustached and straight-glanced, seated in a leather

chair in the smoking-room of a dub, telling a story to a circle of
intent people with all the skill of one trained in an American news-
paper school. At a distance he might have been even then the
editor of the Albany Journal.

The sane man does not live amid another people without seeking
to adopt whatever he recognises as better ; without seeking to
choose from the new material some advantage, even if it be only a
trick of g^Uing oysters. Accordingly, Frederic was to be to me a
cosmopolitan figure, representing many ways of many peoples ; and,
behold, he was stiU the familiar figure, with no gilding, no varnish,
a great reminiscent panorama of the Mohawk Valley !

It was in Central New York that Frederic was bom, and it is
there he passed his childish days and his young manhood. He
enjoys greatly to teU how he gained his first opinions of tho
alphabet from a strenuous and enduring study of tlie letters on an
empty soap-box. At an early age he was induced by his parents
to rise at 5.30 a.m., and distribute supplies of imlk among the
worthy populace.

In his clubs, details of this story are well known. He pitilessly
describes the grey shine of the dawn that makes the snow appear
the hue of lead, and, moreover, his boyish pain at the task oi
throwing the stiff harness over the sleepy horse, and then the
long and circuitous sledding among the customers of the milk
route. There is no pretence in these accounts ; many self-made
men portray their early hardships in a spirit of purest vanity
' And now look ! ' But there is none of this in Frederic. Ef
simply feels a most absorbed interest in that part of his careei
which made him so closely acquainted with the voluminous life 0:
rural America. His boyhood extended through that time wher
the North was sending its thousands to the war, and the lists 0
dead and wounded were returning in due course. Tlie grea
country back of the line of fight — the waiting women, the hghtles;
windows, the tables set for three instead of five — was a land elati
or forlorn, triumiihant or despairing, always strained, eager
listening, tragic in attitude, trembling and quivering like a vas
mass of nerves from the shock of the far-away conflicts in thi
South.

Those were supreme years, and yet for the great palpitating
regions it seems that the mind of this lad was the only sensitiv
plate exposed to the sunlight of '61-'65. The book, In the Sixties
which contains The Copperhead, Mansena, The War Widow, Th
Eve of the Fourth, and My Aunt Suean, breathes the spirit of ;
Titanic conflict as felt and endured at the homes. One would thinl
that such a book would have taken the American people by storm
but it is true that an earlier edition of The Copperhead sold less thai
a thousand copies in America.

In the Valley is easily the best historical novel that our countr
has borne. Perhaps it is the only good one. Seth's Brother's Wij
and The Lawton Girl are rimmed with fine portrayals. There ar
writing men who, in some stories, dash over three miles at :
headlong pace, and in an adjacent story move like a boat bein;
sailed over ploughed fields ; but in Frederic one feels at once th
perfect evenness of craft, the undeviating worth of the workmansliij
The excellence is always sustained, and these books form, wit
In the Sixties, a row of big American novels.

But if we knew it we made no emphatic sign, and it was not itnt
the appearance of The Damnation of Theron Ware (called Illuininaiw
in England) that the book audience reaUy said, ' Here is
writer.' If I make my moan too strong over this phrase of th
matter, I have only the excuse that I believe the In the Sixth
stories to form a most notable achievement in writing times 1
America.

It is natural that since Frederic has lived so long in England h
pen should turn toward English life. One does not look upon th
fact with unmixed joy. It is mournful to lose his work even for
time. It is for this reason that I have made myself disagreeabl
upon several occasions by my expressed views of March Saret. J
is a worthy book, but one has a sense of desertion. AVe canw
afford a loss of this kind. But at any rate he has grasped Englis
life with a precision of hand that is only equalled by tlio precisio
with which he grasped our life, and his new book wiU shino 01
for English eyes in a way with which they are not too familiar,
is a strong and striking delineation, free, bold, and straight.

In the meantime he is a jirodigious labourer. Knowing tho ma
and his methods, one can conceive liim doing anything, unles-s it i
writing a poor book, and, mind you, this is an important point.

April 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

3T3

SATURDAY, APRIL 2, 1898.

No. i352, New Series.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

[N another column will be found the
letters which, quite inclej)endently of
ach other, Mr. Anthony Hope and Mr.
.ndrew Lang have addressed to the New
ork Critic on the subject of irresponsible
ad misleading newspaper tattle about
terary visitors to America. Both speak
rongly, but wliereas Mr. Hoj)e confines
imself in the main to his own grievance,
[r. Lang treats the scandal in the abstract,
eeling that Mr. Hope's views on the matter
ould be interesting to our readers, we
iked him for some expression of them,
e replies :

In regard to the matter on which
you courteously offer me the opportunity
of expressing my views, I have really
very little to add. My letter to the Critic,
although, I fear, a trifle irritable in tone,
remains a true statement of the case.

Perhaps it is unnecessary to add that,
with all respect, I differ from the opinion
expressed in Mr. Lang's letter. If I had
agreed with it, I should not have gone
on my expedition ; if I had been con-
verted to it, I should not look back on my
expedition with the satisfaction and
lileasure that I now feel. — I am, Sir, your
obedient servant, Anthony Hoi'e."

^r. Lang, by the way, might have re-
vrked upon the cordial hospitality and
( iirteous puldic treatment that has always
1 on extended to American writers privately
\ iting this country.

Volume I. will contain the Life, Volumes II.
and m. the Letters. The article on
Stevenson referred to below, which Mr.
Colvin has written for the Dictionary of
National Biography, does not anticipate the
longer work. Owing to the exigencies of
space Mr. Colvin's contribution to the Dic-
tionary is little more than a sketch of
Stevenson's career.

But, though only a sketch, it contains
excellent reading. Mr. Colvin thus describes
Stevenson's moods as an Edinburgh law-
student :

"With high social spirits, and a biiUiant,
somewhat fantastic, gaiety of learning, Steven-
son was no stranger to the storms and per-
plexities of youth. A restless and inquiring
conscience, perhaps inherited from Covenanting
ancestors, kept him inwardly calling in question
the grounds of conduct and the accepted codes
of society. At the same time, his reading had
shaken his belief in Christian dogma ; the
harsher forms of Scottish Calvinistic Christianity
being indeed at all times repugnant to his
nature. From the last circumstance rose for
a time troubles with his father, the more trying
while they lasted because of the deep attach-
ment and pride in each other which had always
subsisted between father and son. He loved
the aspects of his native city ; but neither its
physical nor its social atmosphere was con-
genial to him. Amid the biting winds and
rigid social conventions of Edinburgh he craved
for Bohemian freedom and the joy of life, and
for a while seemed in danger of a fate like that
of the boy poet, Robert Fergusson, with whom
he always owned a strong sense of spiritual
aifinity."

Mr. Sidney Colvin, liaving finished other
V rk which had more immediate claims
I on his attention, is now able to dovoto his
I sure to the completion of his biography
11. L. Stevenson. It will be published,
understand, in three volumes some
tiio next year. Mr. Colvin purposes
k ?piiig the biography and letters distinct.

Mb. Colvin has the following note on
Stevenson's personal appearance :

' ' Stevenson was of good statvu-e (about 5 ft.
10 in.) and activity, but very slender, his
leanness of body and limb (not of face) having
been throughout life abnormal. The head was
small ; the eyes dark hazel, very wide-set, intent,
and beaming ; the face of a long oval shape ; the
expression rich and animated. He had a free
and picturesque play of gesture, and a voice of
full and manly fibre, in which his pulmonary
weakness was not at all betrayed."

very distinguished poetry, are the mellifluous
statement of a very desirable condition of
international amity :

" What is the Voice I hear

On the wind of the Western Sea ?
Sentinel ! hsten from out Cape Clear,
An \ say what the Voice may be.
' "lis a proud free People calling loud to a
People proud and free.'

' And it says to them, " Kinsmen, hail !
We severed have been too long :
Now let us have done with a worn-out tale,
The tale of an ancient wrong,
And our friendship last long as Love doth last,
and be stronger than Death is Strong." '

Answer them, Sons of the self-same race,
And blood of the self-same clan.

Let us speak with each other, face to face,
And answer, as man to man.
And loyally love and trust each other, as
none but free men can.

A message to bond and thrall to wake,
For, wherever we come, we twain,

The throne of the Tyrant shall rock and quake.
And his menace be void and vain ;
For you are lords of a strong young land,
and we are lords of the main."

Concerning Stevenson's Hfo in Samoa,
we read :

" In health he seemed to have become a new
man. Frail in comparison with the strong, he
was yet able to ride and boat with little restric-
tion, and to take part freely in local festivities,
both white and native. . . . His literary
industry duruig these years was more strenuous
tlian ever. His habit was to begin work at six
in the morning, or earlier, continue without
interruption until the mid-day meal, and often
to resume again until four or five in the after-
noon."

It is interesting to note that sixteen
Stevensons are included in this volume, and
that to Eobert Louis Stevenson nineteen
columns are allotted, as against twenty-nine
to his fifteen namesakes. Mr. Colvin's
article makes us eager for the biography
of which it is a foretaste.

Mr. Alfred Austin is represented in the
papers this week by an official poem on
the alleged disposition recently sliown by
America to co-operate with England against
the old country's enemies. Here are four
stanzas, which, though they may not be

Democratic followers of the Muse must
have been glad to see that Mr. Alfred
Austin did not favour the Times exclusively,
but scattered these lines broadcast through
the London papers. Yet not all the papers
printed the poem. Does this mean that the
Laureate did not submit his verse to the Daily
Telegraph and the Daily Chronicle, or can it
be that the editors of those papers ?

In the late James Payn has passed away
a nimble wit, a fluent, optimistic novelist,
and one of the kindliest and most popular
men of his time. In no sense was he pre-
cisely great ; but he knew his powers and
limitations, and ho wrote nothing all his
life that did not add to the world's store
of good-humour and sunshine. His novels
amounted to upwards of half a hundred ;
and these by no means represent the sum of
his literary activity, for he had contributed
" Our Note Book " to the Illustrated London
News since the discontinuance of Mr. Sala's
" Echoes of the Week," he edited for
many years Chimbers's Journal and Cornhill,
he acted as literary adviser both to Messrs.
Smith & Elder and Baron Tauchnitz, and
he reviewed many books for the Times.
Mr. Payn's connexion with that paper was,
by the way, peculiar, for the present editor,
Mr. Buckle, was his son-in-law.

Mr. Payn's novels have vivacity and
sentiment: to-day they are read probably
only by people of an older generation — the
young re(|uire stronger meat — but as stories,
rather than " documents," studies in impres-
sionism, and what not, such as it is the
fasliion now to prefer, they are excellent.
By Proxy is enthralling ; and Lost Sir Mas-
singberd is not easily laid aside. As some
proof of how entertaining his pen could be,
there is the story of Mr. Payn (who was an
excellent critic) offering a book to a friend
at a club with tlio remark that it was one of
the most interesting novels he had picked up
for some time. The other, taking the volume,
saw that it was an early effort of Mr. Payn's

374

THE ACADEMY.

[April 2, 1898.

own, a fact whicli the author himself had
entirely overlooked !

In Some Literary Recollections, published in
1884, and Gleams of Memory, ten years later,
Mr. Payn has told the story of his literary
life as fully as need be. Both are delightful
exercises in urbane garrulity and iileasant,
cultivated liumour — models of their kind.
But the following stoiy, told by Mr. Payn
to a Daily News' interviewer, does not occur
in either, and is so dramatic as to be well
worth repeating here. It refers to an ex-
perience when he was editing Chambers's
Journal :

" The editorial room he occupied diiriug his
long connexion with the popular Edinbiu-gh
publication had long before the Chambers's
time been a bedroom in which one or the other
of two partners of a firm had for many years
miide a rule of sleeping. It was, in fact, a
stipulation of the deed of partnership that one
of them should sleep on the premises. In
course of years, however, it became rather an
irksome restriction upon their liberty, and in
order to free themselves from it they agreed to
take into partnership their manager, an old
servant of the house, on condition that he
would occupy the bedroom and so fulfil the
requirements of the deed. The old servant was
naturally very much moved by this recognition
of his services but pleaded that he had not the
necessary capital to qualify him for partner-
ship. As to that, it was only £500 that was
necessary, aud this the firm had decided to give
him. And so the matter was settled. The
trusty servant became a partner, and took
possession of the room, in which he was found
next morning with his brains blown out. He
left behind him a letter in which he explained
that all those years during which he had been
so trusted he had been robbing his employers,
and their great kindness had so filled him with
remorse that he couldn't live under it."

Mr. Laxg's letter concerning WiUiam
Barnes, which will be found in another
place, win be a pleasant surprise to
those of our readers who love the Dorset-
shire poet, and were grieved to find so acute
a critic as Mr. Lang depreciating him. But
Mr. Lang has now "burned his faggot," and
all is well. By the way, this would not be
an ill time for Messrs. Kegan, Paul & Co. to
prepare a selection of William Barnes's
poems in a volume more portable, and there-
fore more companionable, than the con-
siderable one that now holds his three series.
Barnes is too homely for a library edition
only ; his best might well be offered in
smaller compass,. Would not his daughter,
the accomplished lady who writes under the
pseudonym of " Leader Scott," make such a
selection ?

We have received the following letter :

"Deab Sir, — My attention has only just
been drawn to a recent review in your columns
in which your critic demolishes twenty-two
minor poets at a meal, or rather in one article.
Among the victims of this voracious appetite is
a poor little volume of mine entitled Itip Van
Winkle, and other Poems. As your representa-
tive has probably digested all of us by this
time, and as your readers have probably done
the same, I will only trespass on your space
for a moment. Your critic states that he only
discovered one savoury morsel upon my platter,
a lyric entitled ' The Viking's Song,' which he

is good enough to quote four verses of.
Curiously enough this poem was written when
I was a boy of fourteen at the Charterhouse.
It was sent to the school paper, and I was
informed by our school editor, who had also a
voracious appetite, that I had better desist
from writing poetry since ' Poeta nascitur non
fit.' In no wise dauLted by contemporary
criticism, for I never am, I forwarded the poem
to the editor of the (Jraphic, who published it.
The distressing part of this narrative, however,
is to follow. The above incident happened
twenty years ago. By induction nothing I
have written since approaches my juvenile
efforts, and twenty valuable years of my Ufe
have been wasted. Shall I throw up the
unequal task of combating critics, Mr. Editor,
or shall I pray for the time when I may have
the privilege of demolishing twenty-two minor
reviewers at a meal, I should say in a column ?
Trusting to your courtesy to insert this. —
Yours obediently, William Akerman.

March 23, 1898."

Mr. AiCERMAN has our sympathy, but he
does not state the case quite accurately.
Our critic did not say that " The Viking's
Song " was the only savoury morsel in the
dish. lie remarked that it was "among
the best." Hence Mr. Akerman's exercise
in inductive reasoning fails, and his twenty
years of poetic assiduity are not a blank,
and the minor reviewers are for a while
safe.

To the now papers now in course of
preparation — and it is safe to assume that
some dozen are at this moment being planned
— must be added the American Judge, an
English edition of which is about to be
issued. Judge is chiefly notable for its comic
scenes of American-Irish and American-
Jewish life, signed, if we remember aright,
" Zim," which to some are quite the funniest
humorous drawings on either side of the
Atlantic. Its cartoon, though a powerful
factor in American politics, is not likely
to be much appreciated here.

Concerning Stevenson as fabulist a con-
tributor to the Academy had something to say
last week, and now, in the revolutionary and
progressive pages of Reynolds's Newspaper,
we find further testimony to E. L. S.'s merits
in that line, in the form of imitation. The
experiments, which are by Mr. T. W. H.
Crosland, are so good that we quote two :

*' Master ^vnd Man.

' Sir,' quoth the man, ' you treat me less
mercifully than you would treat your dog.'

' Doubtless,' replied the master ; ' but then I
have an affection for my dog.' "

" The New Poet.

The new poet sat on a green hill.

And they brought him tidings of the death
of the King's cousin.

' Quite so,' quoth the poet. ' Here is a
threnody.'

' Also,' said they, ' a princess hath been
happily delivered of a male child.'

' I shall felicitate her highness in sweet
verses,' said the poet.

' And,' they continued, ' it is now the time of
the year for the putting forward of rythmical
trifles wherefrom the delicate few may derive
delectation.'

' There is a bimdle of such trifles,' the poet
answered.

' And the people, the common people, that
dwell in the shadows and are eaten up of penury
and squalor and the cupidity of the nughty;
it were meet that thou had'st some word for
them.'

'Ah,' mused the poet,' .... 'the dear
people ! .... I have nothing for the
people ! ' "

Mr. Crosland has a pretty gift of satire.

The motor-car has found its laureate
early. In the current C'ornhill is a ballad
by Mr. Oonan Doyle, if not in honour, at
any rate in celebration, of that new inven-
tion, wliich is spirited enough to give the
art of recitation a brisk fillip. The story,
which purports to be told by a groom, tells
how his master, a true sportsman, bought,
in a moment of aberration, a motor-car:

" I seed it in the stable yard — it fairly turned

me sick —
A greasy, wheezy engine as can neither buck

nor kick.
You've a screw to drive it forrard, and a

screw to make it stop,
For it was foaled in a smithy stove an' bred

in a blacksmith shop."

One day the car refused to budge, and a
horse had to be brought from the stable to
drag it home. The horse had long been a
problem to the ostlers :

" We knew as it was in 'im. 'E's thorough-
bred, three part,

We bought 'im for to race 'im, but we fooud
'e 'ad no 'eait ;

For 'e was sad and thoughtful, and amaziu'
dignified.

It seemed a kind o' liberty to drive 'im or to
ride;

For 'e never teemed a-thiukiu' of wot 'e 'ail

to do,
But 'is thoughts was set on 'igher things,

admirin' of the view.
'E looked a putfeck pictur, and a pictur 'e

would stay,
'E wouldn't even switch 'is tail to drive the

flies away."

No sooner was this animal harnessed to the
car than it began to move :

" And first it went quite slowly and the 'orse

went also slow,
But 'e 'ad to buck up faster when the wheels

began to go ;
For the car kept crowdin' on 'im and buttin'

'im along,
And in less than 'arf a minute, sir, that 'orse

was goin' strong."

And then" somethin' else went fizzy wig, and
in a flash, or less, that blessed car was goin'
like a limited express "; whilo as for tlie
horse :

" 'E was stretchin' like agrey'ound, 'e was goin'
all 'e knew
But it bumped an' shoved be'ind 'im, for sU

that 'e could do ;
It butted 'im an' boosted 'im an' spanked im
on ahead, -

Till 'e broke the ten mile record, same as 1

already said.
Ten mile in twenty minutes ! 'E done it, sir,

That's true. ,

The only time we ever found what that ere

'orse could do.
Some say it wasn't 'ardly fair, and the papers
made a fuss, ,

But 'e broke the ten mile record, andttiats
good enough for us.

I'RII, 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY

375

u see that 'orse's tad, sir 'i You don't !

So more do we,

lich really ain't surprisin', for 'e 'as no tail

o see ;

at engine wore it off 'ini before master made

f. stop,

fl all the road was littered like a bloomiu'

barber's shop."

[ comic verse is so rare that we offer
Uonan Doyle cordial congratulations on
e\v accomplisliment. He has provided
idant to the " One Hoss Shay."

It. E. T. Eeed, continuing his researches
Animal Land," in Punch, comes this
,: to his editor. Under the title of
e Punchiboss, or Ephsee Bee," Mr.
I and is thus happily hit oif :

hhis humrous little Creature has a most
jiical brain — full of hapi)ey thaughts. He
|s on everything directly you put it in
1 of him. H(! is awfuU kind to chilldren,
i gives me great enkurygment when I do my
iores nice enough, which is allmost allways
i He does buzz round you though and
•you up. He likes to get a good run on
joards sometimes. He has a skillful little
)l)f knocking off a piece if it comes in his
mi he is very strong in the wings. He
•ot a awfuU clever lot of drawers and
(together — -all of them genyusses and tipes
ei^Hsh beuty. (I must get this put in
liime when he is away— he might not like
I' berle-ik him after his polliteness and
;|eight in letting me beggin so young.) "

^while the report reaches us that the
liboss is fairly on the road to recovery
dhis recent illness.

Laurence Binyon's volume of verse,

ed Porphyrion, and Other Poems, comes

b ad in a dainty format. The dedication

I book — " To Joy " — is rather puzzling.

a lady, or the feeling we experience

eek in closing the correspondence on

1 Towers ? The title-poem fills the

itjixty-eight pages, and for the benefit

Cuntry gentlemen who wish to know

a " Porphyrion " is about, we quote the

Lijument." It reads :

yoimg man of Antiooh, iiying from the
in that enthusiasm for the ascetic life
fascinated early Christendom, dwells
i+ears a hermit in the Syrian desert ; till,
ai apparition of magical loveliness, his life
\n ten up, and his nature changed : retum-
: t the world, he embraces every vicissitude.
Ml ■ to find and win the lost vision of that
al'eauty."

a note Mr. Binyon explains that tho
mi is founded on a story of Eufinus told
till first chapter of HUtoria Monachorum,
1 :iproduced by Mr. Lecky in liis Ilistory
E^opean Morals. But Mr. Binyon has
ipid the legend to his own uses with
)a(freedom.

^excellent bull is put on record by
cotespondent of the Pall Mall Gazette;
I Irst bull that we have ever met
icl touches reviewing. "I sent," says
8 1 rrespondent, " a review of a volume

at eminent Irishman to the editor of a
3ulr Dublin paper. He replied that he
i \ blished my article, but could not pay

fo it, as he wrote aU the reviews in his
irm himself ! I considered the bull a
r 8i)8titute for tho usual cheque."

The Groat Tongue of the Public has been
wagging all this year on the subject — " Did
Bacon write Shakespeare's plays ? " The
controversy has raged in back parlours as
if it were a brand new heresy. We our-
selves have felt the kick of it, and our
readers would be grateful if they knew how
many Shakespeare v. Bacon letters we have
excluded from our columns. Of course this
recrudescence is due to the anti-Shakespeare
article published by a popular magazine
last Christmas.

Now, on the eve of Easter, we are glad
to give publicity to the following statement
by Mr. Sidney Lee, which he calls,
" Shakespeare and Bacon." May it calm
the troubled waters !

" During the past eight months I have been
the recipient of numerous communications
directing my attention to the crazy theory that
Bacon was the author of Shakespeare's plays.
This morning an obviously hunn fide appeal
is made to me for detailed direction as
to how the question may best be studied.
A serious treatment of the subject is diffi-
cult for one who has closely studied the
authentic records of Shakespeare's life, the
scantiness of which, as I hope I have made clear
in my memoir of Shakespeare in the Dictionary
of National Biography, is a popular fallacy.
Most of those who have pressed the question on
my notice are men of acknowledged intelligence
and reputation in their own walks of life both
at home and abroad. I therefore desire as
respectfully, but also as emphatically and as
publicly as I can, to put on record the fact, as
one admitting to my mind of no rational
ground for dispute, that there exists every
manner of contemporary evidence to prove
that Shakespeare, the householder of Stratford-
on-Avon, wrote, with his own hand, and ex-
clusively by the light of his own genius —
merely to paraphrase the contemporary in-
scription on his tomb in Stratford-on-Avon
Church — those dramatic works which form the
supreme achievement in English literature.

The defective knowledge and casuistical
argumentation, which alone render another
conclusion possible, seem to me to find their
closest parallel in our own day in the ever
popular delusion that Arthur Orton was Sir
Roger Tichbome. I once heard how a poor
and ignorant champion of the well-known
claimant declared that his unfortunate hero had
been arbitrarily kept out of the baronetcy
because he was a poor butcher's son. Very
similar is the attitude of mind of those who
assert that Bacon wrote Shakespeare's plays
because Bacon was a great contemporary
philosopher and prose writer. The argument
for the Baconian authorship, when stripped of
its irrelevances, amounts to nothing more than
this."

Mb. Meredith's influence would seem to
be increasing. A foundling recently dis-
covered in North London and carried to the
Islington Workhouse has been named iSy
the Guardians "Clara Middloton." Can
this be a belated birthday compliment to the
author of The Eyoist ?

Sweet are the uses of adversity : " By
Commercial Company's Cables : New York,
Monday, March 28. Probably if tho French
Court of Appeal grants M. Zola a new trial
ho wUl come to America to give fifteen
lectures at 20,000 fi-aucs each. A telegram

was received here this morning from him
accepting these terms."

While America is offering M. Zola
francs, England continues to offer sympathy.
A number of English women, who are
perhaps somewhat rashly described as
" representative," are putting their signa-
tures to a letter intended to console M.
Zola. The letter lies for signature at the
house of Mrs. Edwin CoUins, 12, Albert-
road, Eegent's Park, N.W.

M. Hanotaux is no longer merely the
French Foreign Minister, he is an Academi-
cian. One finds a new interest, therefore,
in the facts of his life and his daily habits.
M. Hanotaux is a bachelor, and a retiring
one. He has chambers at No. 258 the
Boulevard Saint-Germain — a busy thorough-
fare, but pleasant, near the Sorbonne and
Latin quarter, and convenient enough for
tho Chamber. M. Hanotaux's flat is on the
fifth floor. "Eh bien ! " he wLU exclaim,
"one might do worse." Fresh air, sun-
shine, and silence are to be had best in
cities on a fifth floor. M. Hanotaux has tb em.
He prefers his cosy den to drawing-rooms
and cafes. In its appointments it proclaims
the pensive disposition of its owner. The
bookshelves are well laden, and include the
books of Daudet, Bourget, Pierre Loti,
Maupassant, and others. Poetry, philo-
sophy, and travel are represented ; and
besides these modern books there are, in a
second room, old and rare ones of which M. .
Hanotaux is very proud.

M. Hanotaux's reception into the Academy
has, doubtless, a political aspect ; but it is-
teresting to learn that he owes his rise in
life to his pen. The story is thus told by a
contemporary :

" Fifteen years ago the modest salary of
three pounds a week tempted a youthful
schoolmaster in one of the educational estab-
lishments of Paris to scribble for the news-
papers to alleviate an existence more honourable
than prosperous. Fortunately the lynx-eyed
Gambetta was the editor of the paper chiefly
chosen for these effusions, which were striking,
and the writer was placed on one of the bottom
rungs of the ladder at the Ministry of Foreign
Affau's. The young man was Gabriel Hano-
taux, bom in a notary's office in Picardy.
For tho next ten years little was heard of him
outside of Ministerial circles. There, indeed,
his quality was known and expectations formed.
It only wanted the given moment to bring out
the silent worker into tho glare of pubhc life.
That moment came when M. Charles Dupuy
looked everywhere about him for a capable
Foreign Minister, and could find none. By a
happy inspiration his eyes tiurned towards the
man who, by force of sheer toil and perse-
verance, had mastered all the mysteries of the
Quai d'Orsay, and was known to be as ambitious
and masterful as the great Richelieu, whom he
had taken as his guide, counsellor, and friend."

A VERY interesting autobiographical
sketch of Mr. Walter Crane — a work of true
modesty, enriched by illustrations of his
very various artistic accomplishments,
painting, drawing for books, designing
pottery, designing wall paper — constitutes
the Easter Art Annual for 1 898, that being
the new extra number of the .Art Journal.

376

THE ACADEMY.

[Apeil 2, 1898.

Some of the pictures are in colours, some m
photogravure.

Habd upon our reference last week to
The mart of Midlothian come vols. xii.
and xiii. of the charming Temple edition
of the Waverley Novels, which are fiUed
by that stoiy. The volumes have an ex-
ceUent biographical note by Mr. Clement
Shorter, and a reproduction of the portrait
of Scott in the uniform of the Edinburgh
Light Dragoons. At the same time we
have received Kenilworth and Imnlwe in Mr.
Fisher Unwin's new edition. It9_ chief
merit lies in completing each novel in one
volume, but the reader's eyes have to suifer
for the concession.

The fact that the whole of the edition de
luxe of Mr. Murray's definitive edition of
Byron — 250 copies — has been over sub-
scribed is proof of the interest still taken in
the poet, for it must be remembered that
Mr. Heinemann's edition has also many
followers.

tTnE Daily Chronicle's corespondence on
our prison system was enlivened by a candid
and amusing letter from one gentleman who
described his experiences as a debtor com-
mitted to Holloway. Literature may be a
hard task-mistress, but she reserves consola-
tions for her votaries in the hour of their
distress. Hear this :

" I was escorted by a policeman to Hammer-
smith, and there deposited iu an evil-smelling
cell, where I was left for five hours. I beguiled
the time by reciting Shakespeare, some of whose
plays I know by heart. Beginning with ' Ham-
let,' I went through ' Macbeth,' ' Romeo and
JuUet,' and was half through ' Othello ' when
the key turned in the door, and I was marched
out with several others to the police-van."

Arrived at Holloway this literary debtor
was asked his occupation :

"As I am addicted to writing verse, I
replied, ' a poet.' I thought this would both
fully account for my inability to pay the poor
rates, be a veiled satire on society agreeable to
my own cynicism, and illumine with a grim
humour that melancholy company of recruits
to the ranks of criminals. In the latter
expectation I was not disappointed. A ripple
of weird laughter passed along the line."

We should think so. But beneath the
humour of the incident — whiph seems to
have been enjoyed by no one more than
the incarcerated author — there is a sad
suggestion of the old regime of authorship —
Dr. Johnson's " toU, envy, want, the patron,
and the gaol."

tofore in collected plays, for Mr. Shaw has
his own views about the printing of work
intended for the stage: he holds that the
mere printing of the prompt copy is in-
sufficient, and that the institution of a new
art is necessary. In accordance with this
idea Mr. Shaw has replaced the customary
meagre stage directions and scenic specifica-
tions by finished descriptions, physiological
notes and comments of considerable length.

The publication of Mrs. Craigie's "senti-
mental comedy " in four acts—" The A.mba8-
sador " — has been postponed until the
autumn, when Mr. George Alexander will
produce the play. He wiU appear in the
title-role. The play was not read to Mr.
Alexander, or submitted to him, till it was
quite complete and ready for the printers.
He has secured all the dramatic rights. The
book rights have already been arranged for in
England, the Colonies, and the United States.

The Right Hon. James Bryce, M.P., has
consented to preside at the Booksellers'
annual dinner, which will be held at the
Holbom Eestaurant, on Saturday, May 7.

Great things are expected of the Inter-
national Art Exhibition which will be
opened at Prince's Skating Rink on May 7.
Mr. Whistler will be responsible for the
arrangement and decoration of the galleries.
Many distinguished artists have promised
to contribute.

Pbof. Schenk, of Vienna, has concluded
his work upon sex, in which he explains his
method of determining sex before birth.
Precautions have been taken to prevent any
possibility of the nature of the discovery
leaking out before the publication of his
book. We have not yet seen any announce-
ment as to an English translation.

On Saturday, April 30, at four o'clock,
Mr. Alfred Austin, the Poet Laureate, will
read from his poems in the Galleries of the
Royal Society of British Artists. The
selections wiU be " A Dialogue at Fiesole "
and the third and fourth scenes of the first
act of " Savonarola."

The arrangement of the two volumes of
Mr. G. Bernard Shaw's Plays : Pleasant and
Unpleasant, will be somewhat different from
that which has always been followed here-

Messrs. Cassell & Co. have just received
the following interesting letter from Colonel
Howard Vincent, C.B. : " I am greatly
obliged to you for the copies you were so
good as to send me of your excellent book.
Scarlet and Blue ; or, Songs for Soldiers and
Sailors. They seem to be extremely well
adapted for the purpose, and I shall not fail
to put them into use. ... I earnestly hojie
that by united exertions we may succeed in
inducing the British soldier to take to sing-
ing on the march, and to teach him some
sensible songs for the purpose. We are a
centurj' behind Russia, Turkey, Germany,
Austria, France, Italy, and Spain in this
matter. I am strongly of opinion that the
man who leads a song on the march should
be let off ' guard,' or given some indulgence,
when a regiment arrives in camp." Yet we
believe it to be the fact that English soldiers
do sing a little. If they do not sing much,
it is because the national temperament is
against it.

The proprietors of the Unicom Press have
arranged to publish, under the name of
" The Unicom Quartos," a series of books,
each containing new and hitherto inedited
work by some one artist. A Booh of Giants,
drawn, engraved, and written by Mr.
WUliam Strang, will form the first volume.
The Dome is about to enter on its second year.

IN APPRECIATIVE MOOD.
I. — Mr. J. G. Frazeb.

Mr. Frazer's monumental work on Pa
sanias must give him an assured positic
throughout Europe in the ranks of classic
scholars. The history of the book is
curious one. Originally it was undertakf
for Messrs. Macmillan, soon after M
Frazer took his degree, and was planiu
on a comparatively small scale. Thf
Mr. Frazer fell iinder the influence j
that pioneer in the scientific study of r
ligious conceptions. Prof. Robertson Smit
and began the wide course of anthrop
logical reading which bore such magnifice:
fruit in The Golden Bough. This was pu
lished in 1891, and Mr, Frazer turned to tl
earlier scheme, which had now becon
something of a burden upon his conscienc
He set to work with characteristic thorougl
ness, but had not reckoned with the immeni
mass of material that fell to be dealt witl
The book grew under his hands, and tin
went on until, as the author himself tells u
he had spent upon it "well or ill, .somei
the best years of my life." Two joumej
to Greece were necessary to get the loc.
colour and to verify archasological details
and the result is another masterpiece and
second distinct reputation.

Nevertheless, folklore was Mr. Frazer
first love, and to folklore it may be coi
jectured that he will now return. Possibl
a new edition of Tk; Golden Bough ma
now he called for, and in the backgroun
there lies the comprehensive study i
religious ideas to which the preface of tlii
work hopefully alludes. A stupendous tasi
but of all men living Mr. Frazer, with h.
firm grasp of far-reaching ideas and his va:
appetite for facts, is perhaps the most likel
to achieve it. T/io Golden Bough, indeet
was an epoch-making book. It has bee
ransacked, alike for theories and for illui
trations of theories, by a score of foUowen
And it has set the model for such admirabl
work as Mr. Sidney Hartland's Legen
of Perseus, in which, as in The GoUt
Bough, the method adopted is that c
analysing the constituent elements of
particular myth or custom, and explainin
the psychological state of mind in wbic
these originated by a comparison, not onl
with other survivals of them in mythology
but also with savage states of society i
which they may be still vital and effective
The particular custom which served as
starting-point for Mr. Frazer was a to
cult at Aricia in Italy. Its object was
" golden bough " that hung on a tree i
a sacred wood, and was guarded by a pries
who had won his place by the surpnse a&
murder of his predecessor, and was himsel
liable at any moment to a similar fate. 1 H
explanation of this curious institution came.
Mr. Frazer over a wide field. The natur
of priesthood, the nature of sacriiice, tii.
nature of taboo, the various forms taKei
by tree-worship and by the worship ot W
vegetable world generaUy, aU fell to d
discussed; and all were handled wittt!
remarkable lucidity and an unusual powe
of throwing masses of unwieldy niatena
into a logical and attractive form, "ve

April 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

377

•tain parts of his survey Mr. Frazer had
d able predecessors. Mannhardt had
lected and correlated many facts with
jard to the religious ideas connected with
les and crops. Prof. Eobertson Smith, in
i great hook on The Religion of ths Semites,
d thrown a flood of light upon the nature
sacrifice and the primitive conceptions of
ity which it implied. But it was left for
-. Frazer to give the first complete picture
what may rougldy be called the Agricul-
•al religion, the group of customs and
liefs to which men who live mainly by
ing the soil seem everywhere naturally to
ve come. Such a method of study as is
iployed in The Golden Bough implies, of
]irse, something of an abstraction. As
n passed out of the hunting or pastoral

0 the agricultural stage, they did not
emnly lay down one set of religious ideas

1 take up another. But, as in geology
study of individual strata must precede
study of the changes by which strata in
1 supersede each other, so must such

irk as Mr. Frazer's on particular phases
l;he world's religious history precede the
i| reconstruction by which the whole
icess of that vast development may ulti-
itely be revealed.

Sesides The Golden Bough and Paumnias,

Frazer has published a little book on

miim, which is really an expansion of an

cle on the subject contributed to Prof.

)ert8on Smith's Encyclopedia Britannica.

il now he has held a Fellowship at

'^lity College, Cambridge, which has been

le times extended to allow the entei-prise

completed to proceed unchecked. Mr.

'] zer does not intend to leave Cambridge ;

he has recently married, and will,

efore, pursue his unwearying labours

ome other home than that " tranquil

t of an ancient college " to which he

elrs in an eloquent passage, quoted

e( atly in the AcjVdemy, at the close of his

r ace to Pausanias.

II. — Me. Arthur Symons.

ri writer, bom in 1865, is the author of

31 i half-dozen books, including Bays and

■4s, Silhouettes, London Nights, and Amoris

ma in verse, with a Study of Browning

Studies in Ttvo Literatures in prose. As

he is always dexterous, neat, adroit,

ng and celebrating trifles, either elegant

[ualid, in an accomplished and highly

led manner. His is entirely emotional

Br , unconnected with the loftier sides of

famd art : he gives us lyric notes upon

in stic, evanescent things of a day, an

0X1 a moment. His technical ability and

isfl often invest the comparative nothings

E Iji muse with a true charm, and his touch

poj inanimate nature is often of the

apl est. Yet, for the most j)art, he writes

pol the life and scenery of the streets, the

lie Bohemias and Alsatias of the day,

I little humour and humanity to be a

1 'if fine distinction. The themes of

■ Dili's "Jenny" and of Mr. Austin

'objin's "line Marquise," with many a

mi|r theme, appeal to him ; but his

eaiient seldom rises above a graceful

id Ingenious prettiness of an elaborate

^i^3, somewhat subtile and cold. " In-

Jni4s " is the word for this verse :

the execution, the emotion, are alike
equally clever, often of an astonishing
cleverness ; but when we have enjoyed
and admired once, we are apt to have done
with it for ever. And that is a trange
truth to have to confess about a disciple
of Browning and Verlaine, each, in his
intensely living way, so personal, human,
fascinating.

But what we miss in Mr. Symons's
verse we find plentiful in his prose. He
possesses, in a degree uncommon among
English critics, the personal vision and
apprehension of books, men, places, which
makes French criticism so fresh and vivid
a thing. His reader need not agree
with him; but when he has read Mr.
Symons's account of the West of Ireland or of
Moscow, his view of an Elizabethan English
or of a contemporary French writer, even
his personal impressions of the slightest,
least positive kind, the reader feels that
Mr. Symons could not have taken him more
completely and effectively into confidence.
Books, men, places, affect Mr. Symons both
strongly and sincerely ; he will not write of
them with loose phrase and vague ajstheti-
cism, but always with anxious pains to find
words commensurate with his precisefoelings.
There is probably no French master of
style in modem times unknown to him ;
and French masters have been of greater
service to him in the ars pedestris than in
the ars poetica. For good writing he has an
absolute enthusiasm and a prompt discern-
ment, and he loves to write well about it.
Certainly, he is one of the critics whose
writings about others' writings are, so to
say, dramatic and creative, true confessions
and a piece of personal history ; and that,
with no self-intrusion nor preciosity. He
should go far in this field of literature ; he
is the very man to give us a series of essays
upon literary movements in France, from
the romantics to the naturalists, the natural-
ists to the symbolists. Flaubert, Baudelaire,
Gautier are figures "made to his hand."
A.nd though poetry should be to him but a
pleasing parergon, let us not, in our pre-
ference for his prose, forget how pleasing it
can be at times. For example, this " Wan-
derer's Song," which Mr. Symons published
in last week's Outlook :

" I have had enough of women, and enough

of love,
But the land wdits, and the sea waits, and

day and night is enough ;
Give me a long white road, and the grey

wide path of Qie sea,
And the wind's will and the bird's will, and

the heartache still in me.

Why should I seek out sorrow, and give gold

for strife ?
I have loved much and wept much, but tears

and love are not life ;
The grass calls to my heart, and the foam to

my blood cries up,
And the sun shines and the road shines, and

the wine's in the cup.

I have had enough of wisdom, and enough

of mirth,
For the way's one and the end's one, and it's

soon to the ends of the earth ;
And it's then good-night and to bed, and if

heels or heart ache.
Well, it's sound sleep and long sleep, and

sleep too deep to wake."

WHAT THE PEOPLE EEAD.

Xn. — An Aunt.

" I HAD no idea that Ibsen was seventy,"
said my aunt. " I always thought he was a
young man. Certainly I was always given
to understand that he was quite a new
writer."

My aunt prides herself on keeping abreast
of the times, though she is verging upon
her seventieth year. Every three months
or so she comes up to London from a small
provincial town, mainly with the object of
discovering what books a woman of culture
should be reading.

" I have never seen any of his plays," she
continued. " Why is that ? I have seen
Pinero's plays, and Henry Arthur Jones's,
at Canterbury. Don't the touring companies
act Ibsen's plays ? "

" I don't believe they do," I said. " But
you can read them. They're published."

" I shouldn't dream of reading a play,"
said my aunt, drawing her skirts away
from the fire. "I can't read Shakespeare.
You might just as well " (here she
looked round the room over her spectacles
!or a simile) — "you might just as well smell
a picture as read a play. But from all I
hear, this Ibsen is rather a — a — an improper
old man, isn't he ? Still, at my age "

"Well, you don't look it," I said.

"Ah, but I feel it," she said. "It isn't
that I can't get about nearly as well as ever,
because I can. But every time I come up
to London now I find people are talking
about some fresh writer that I've never
heard of, and when I get his book and read
it, well, I don't understand it. I really
don't. There ! "

She looked at me over her spectacles.

" Now who is this Mr. Phillips they're
talking about?" she asked. "He's very
young, I suppose."

" Quite young. I sent you his poems," I
said.

"You did," she replied. "And I read
them. But I don't think — I don't think
you want any neio poetry when you are
growing old. I haven't reaUy ILked anything
since ' Crossing the Bar,' and I tliink I
shall stick to Tennyson. One doesn't quite
realise how beautiful ' In Memoriam ' is
until one begins to grow old. And I am
growing old."

She looked thoughtfully into the fire a
few moments, and then continued more
cheerfully.

"TeU me, who is this foreign person
people are writing about — Omar something
or other ? "

' ' Omar Khayyam. Well, he was a Persian,
and he is dead, and he has been much
translated. He is very pessimistic and very
soothing."

" A black man," said my aunt. " I don't
want to be soothed in my old age by a black
man."

"Not black," I said. "A Persian, a
member of the Aryan "

" It's the same thing," said my aunt.

"Well, what about novels?" I asked.
" There are lots of good novels written now-
adays."

" Oh, I don't mean to say," said my aunt,
" that I can't appreciate the younger writers.

378

THE ACADEMY.

[April 2, 18S

Ci-ockett, for instance, I love ; and that book
of Barrie's about his mother made me — well,
it made me want to kiss him. . But what has
become of Ehoda Broughton ? I think Red
as a Rose is She was one of the sweetest
books I ever read. So was Belinda."

"And what did you think of The War
of the Worlds "i"

" Oh, it's too absurd. I can't think what
people see in that Mr. WeUs. I know I'm
getting an old woman, and I dare say I'm
behind the times ; but fancy people coming
here from another planet. Fancy ! It's too
ridiculous. Why, it's not possiUe"

My aunt leaned back in her chair and set
her feet upon the fender, looking at me with
some severity through her glasses.

"There never has and there never will be
a novelist like Dickens," she said. "How
well I remember him putting up at the inn
opposite our house — j'ou know the place.
It must have been some time in the sixties,
because Edmimd was in knickerbockers, and
I remember he had torn them horribly.
And Dickens came out while they were feed-
ing the horses in the stable, and sat on the
shafts of the carriage, and I ran and got the
opera-glasses and looked at him through
them at the window, and he noticed me, and
put up his two hands — just like opera-
glasses, and looked at me through them.
Ah, well, I don't supjjose there will ever
be a novelist like Dickens again. David
Copperfield and Little Dorrit—ahl but I am
an old woman now. Let me see, what was
the name of the new man you said I must
read? George Gissing? Well, put the
book in my bag."

PAEIS LETTEE.

(From our French Correspondent.)

This new volume of Victor Hugo's corre-
spondence throws no fresh light upon the
man's character, and can hardly be described
as an added glory to his name. The letters
are interesting to read, but they only tell us
what we already knew of Victor Hugo :
that he was a hard worker, an admirable
husband and father, an Indefatigable letter-
writer, and an adept courtier of that capricious
sovereign, popularity ; a trifle histrionic in
his attitude to his friends, who cover the
whole of Europe almost ; whoUy Napoleonic
towards the rest of his literary brothers.
Whenever a yoimg man sends him a volume
of verse or prose, he at once writes back to
him : " Young man, you have a great talent,
a generous heart, a noble mind. Give me
your hand." When it is a lady who
courts his approval, he thus addresses her :
"Madame, you are all grace and charm;
that is to say, you are a woman. Permit
me to kiss the charming hands that have
written such beautiful things, and behold me
respectfully at your feet." Or he tells
her that he fears he is in love with her,
but takes refuge in contemplation of his
grey hairs. He never writes to anyone
outside his domestic circle (where he is
always delightfully tender and affectionate)
as a simple mortal. We are never per-
mitted to see the poet otherwise than
athwart the shadow of his reputation. He

always seems to address us in front of hi®
own statue, and cannot forget for five
precious minutes that he is "the greatest
poet of the century." There is nothing
extraordinary in this, for it would require
a simplicity and modesty Victor Hugo was
far from possessing to have forgotten for
an instant such a flamboyant reputation as
his. Intellectual kingship is the most diifi-
cult to wear, and the sublime attitude
inevitably touches the ridiculous.

Are we nearer than we dared to hope to
the happy period foretold, when the poet
of the future is to be an amiable young
man hymning the joys and sorrows of
guileless love ? My faith ! I begin to
think so, and that it is the novelists who
are starting the pleasant movement. This
week I receive two fresh and charming
novels, as clean as dew, as honest as
laughter, where the men have no mis-
tresses, the wives no lovers, and where nice
innocent youths fall blithely and honourably
in love with sweet, innocent maids, marry
or mourn as fate may permit, and remain
beautifully faithful even in the most hope-
less separation. Ze Refuffe, by Andre
Theuriet, is a refreshment and a delight.
It is not a strong or an original novel, but
it is most charming, with a fresh and
delicate sentimentality that makes us, at
this hour of thQ day, gratefully rub our
eyes, to assure ourselves that it is really
written in elegant French and wears the
familiar yellow cover. What will be
thought of a French aristocrat, a lad of
twenty-one, handsome, wealthy, who is as
pure as a child, and utters to the girl he
loves these naive and un-Freneh sentiments :

"The old priest who was my tutor used to
say that we should marry yoimg, and a girl of
our own age. That, he said, was the best
method of loving long and religiously. It is
my opinion too. Only I mean to marry to
please myself. I am not ambitious ; I care
neither for fortune nor rank ; I should choose
an honest and pretty girl of my own age, with
my own illusions, and I should say to her :
' Let us begin life together ; let us love one
another, and remain closely united to the end,
both in the good and in the bad days ' "

This the ingenuous lad does in the
pleasantest manner possible. The girl is
not his social equal ; she is poor into the
bargain, and is saddled with an objection-
able father. But nothing is of any conse-
quence to Fell except his love. He is even
ready to wait four years, as the French law
only recognises the son's right to marry to
please himself at twenty-five. Then comes
the intrigue. Pretty Catherine gave her
hand to Feli's father before the radiant
vision of this Prince Charming, believing
that friendship is enough in marriage. Her
favourite novel is Jane Eyre, and she
naturally regards her middle-aged lover as
a modified Eochester, with whom, how-
ever, the hlase and elegant nobleman
has nothing in common. When he
broaches his declaration, she asks her-
self with a shudder of terrified joy : " Is he
going to speak to me as Eochester spoke to
Jane?" Happily not. He wooes delicately,
but most uninteUigently. He goes off to
Turin on his son's business without reveal-
ing his engagement, leaving Catherine in

the hands of a resplendent and roniaic
youth, with April in his eyes and suns ,ie
in his smile. The result is inevitee
and, to dispose of the jealous and rd!
citrant nobleman, the author remembwme
ending of the Mill on the Floss. The f d
rises near Catherine's house. Fell is hei e-
hand in rescuing the beloved, and the i-
appointed father is washed into eten?
thus removing the obstacle to the \m^
happiness. The scenery and local atu-
phere are very prettily handled, and e
style sober and finished. Not a great n i
assuredly, but like the air of the wood; r
breathe is M. Theuriet, perfumed, fr ,
a little wild, with a gratifying taste 4
innocence.

More interesting as a story, resemb ■:
more our English novel, Lx Foret iAri, \
by Alfred du Pradeix, with whose naii I
am not familiar. Here, too, the mistress il
the French lover are absent. The hero a
viscount in reduced circumstances, who ei s
his bread as an employi on a Parisian raih ■
line. He is a nice, melancholy young d i,
highly-bred and sentimental. It is prop( \
to marry his dearest friend, a scien c
sage, to a young lady of fortune in e
provinces. The viscount, on the pretex i
shooting, goes down to the country s
invited to the castle by the girl's fathe a
resplendent admiral, who keeps open ho s,
and at his table mingles the luxuries of e
far North with those of the South and e
remote East. His daughter is an ex c
beauty, brilliant and bewildering, ' d
nourishes a secret passion for the villai f
this novel. The villain is overcharged \ i
a hint of melodrama, and mars rather 1 1
adds to the interest of the tale. But it it 1
so brightly told, so vivid and light and so f
sentimental, that in these harsh times we 9
disposed to swallow even the villain wit! t
a murmur. The viscount, of course, -
cretely loves the maiden, but breaks i
heart in silence while his friend marries I .
The friend dies of distracted love ; and 3
beautiful widow and the faithful visco t
are united " after long years of grief 1 1
pain." One of the prettiest light novel [
have read for a long while.

H.I

THE WEEK.

THE shadow of Easter is on the p "
lishing world. Books are few il
miscellaneous. Booksellers, we learn, 3
busier in taking stock than in selling •
Eeviewers are sending in their holii'
addresses on post-cards. The print f
presses are slowing down.

But — there appears to bo always re'
for a new dictionary. Messrs. W. « |
Chambers have just put forth tt'
Chambers's English Dictionary. Thevola^
is in imperial octavo, and contains o
1,250 pages arranged in double colui'
This dictionary is distinguished by |
clearness and largeness of the tyi» ;
which it is printed. It is claimea f

?RIL 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

379

^vocabulary is " exceptionally copious."
I addition to ordinary words, phrases
,c as tlie following are included and
jiined : Argon, power of the keys,
'tr-song, Mrs. Leo Hunter, log - rolling,
'4'dged sectcrifies, and neto teaman ; also
ieiatic phrases, such as to find one's
u to knock into a cocked hat, to knoiv the
V, &c. The editor, Mr. Thomas David-
D thinks the Dictionary " wiU satisfy the
I man, and supply some answer to the
ojand and one questions that arise before
a as he threads his way through the
)^led wilderness of words." The Preface
Qjnues :

"llis [Mr. Davidson's] aim has been to in-
\if all the common terms of the sciences and
(jrts of life — of astronomy, physiology, and
tldne, as well as of photography, printing,
liand heraldry. Obsolete words imperish-
,^:u Spenser, Shakespeare, the Authorised
nm of the Bible, and Milton ; the Scotch
ri of Bums and Scott— of the heather, if
; he kailyard ; the slang words of Dickens
ijie man in the street ; the honest Ameri-
i^iis of Lowell and Mark Twain; the
n(fes of word-masters like Carlyle, Brown-
:,|and Meredith; provincial and dialect
rj that have attained to immortality in the
;{ of the Brontes and Gforge Eliot — to all
81 the editor has opened his doors. It is
; js to judge whether a word is, or is not,
I ad'ded to the treasury of English, but
r^i^ to register such words as hive been
1 or written, and to give an honest and
)iiiidicod explanation of their meaning,
' E possible, of their origin."

In a Tour Through the Famine Districts of
India, Mr. F. H. G. Merewether " has, as far
as possible, merely hinted at the awful and
gruesome sights and scenes which it was his
lot to witness, and which certainly any word-
painting of his would fail to accurately por-
tray," These sad spectacles are, however,
brought to the reader's eye by means of
photographs.

Mr. "William Ashton Ellis's laborious
translation of Wagner's prose works has
reached its sixth volume. This contains
Wagner's essay on " Eeligion and Art."

THE BOOK MARKET.

lOLOOY is a vast and pressing subject,

herefore, Mr. J. H. W. Stuckenberg's

'uction to the Btudg of Sociology ought

a useful work. Mr. Stuckenberg is

ithor of an Introduction to the Study of

'lophy, a Life of Immanuel Kant, and

6 books. His present work answers

.cy toits title: " an elaborated system

91 iology is not attempted ; but the pur-

e s to lay the basis for sociological study

lesignate the study involved — and to

le beginner in the solution of these

tins." Three classes of readers have

on the author's mind :

Ijrst, that large class of professional men
net persons of culture who have had no
mion in sociologj-, but are desirous of
i^ng an idea of its nature and materials,
Qpursuing its study privately. . . . Second,
lets who have no sociology in their
eijite course, but realise that without it
riducation and their preparation for hfe
Icomplete. Third, teachers of social
a\ who desire a compend as the basis of
rjistruotion, or who, while lecturing on
ol?y, want a manual in the hands of their
le|;s."

tuckenberg has arranged his book
very definite plan. He gives ten
pjrs, and the problem to be solved is
ei at the beginning of each.

I'E old angler is Harry Druidale, who
aies his angling experiences for the
lenty years in an illustrated volume
til Harry Druidale, Fisherman from
w nd to England. The book is chiefly
36 led with trout-fishing in Yorkshire,
let and the Isle of Man.

HALFPENNY HUMOUE.

THERE is just now a " boom " — the word
can be useful — in cheap humorous
papers. They are multijilying like flies in
August. One wonders who reads them, but
the wonder vanishes when one sees a street
of small houses. They percolate into these
The boys and girls buy them and loudly
dispute their merits. The tired father con-
descends to look at them after tea, and is
amused. These halfpenny sheets are masses
of funny or would-be funny pictures. Their
humour is brief and broad, and turns
mainly on personal injuries. Before we
examine a budget of these papers we will
give a list of some we have been able to
collect within twenty - four hours. These
are :

Funny Cuts.

Tlie Funny Wonder.

Larks !

Ban Lena's Comic Journal.

The Monster Comic.

Comic Cuts.

Jokes.

The Comic Home Journal.

Illustrated Chips.

Tlie Halfpenny Comic,

Comic Bits.

The World's Camic.

Need we apologise for drawing attention
to a literary demand which, however remote
from our readers' tastes, can only be satisfied
by such an array of prints as the above ?
Unquestionably many of these papers have
large circulations. 'They are seen in the
train and the tram-car. Their blatant con-
tents-bills and advertisements grin and jibber
in tlie street. To seek any variations in
them would, be absurd. They are as
similar as their names. Burglars and wild-
beasts, dynamite, bicycles, and automatic
machines are responsible for the more
boisterous humour ; and the regulation pretty
girl and high-coUared snob for the inanities.
Larks gives its readers a sequence of
pictures illustrating an elephant adventure
at Barnum's. We spare our readers the
pictures, but here are the "legends" to
them :

" (1) Our three lodgers went to Bammn's
Show last Saturday, and got among the ele-
phants. ' Don't this one like 'aving bis trunk

smoothed down, neither ? ' said Snoddy ; ' see
— he sorter curls it up when I strokes it.'

(2) Well, Tuppy and Wiuky left Sncddy still
cuddling that trunk, and whatever do you
think they did ? They went and bought a dozen
buns, and then, in a quiet spot, peppered 'em
like winking till the very look of 'em made you
sneeze.

(3) Then placing one or two unpeppered ones
on top, they hied them back to Suoddy. ' 'Ere,
Snod,' said Winkle, ' give the s'elephant a few
buns. I should like ter see 'ow they ketches
'old of anything with them trunk affairs.'

(4) ' Why, I DO believe you're 'art afraid of
the animile,' gurgled Snoddy, as he came to
the first doctored bun ; ' come closer, you
sillies, 'e won't 'urt yer. Why, I never "

(o) But just then there came a wild shriek
from the snout of the angered elephant, the
ground shook, the fat lady trembled, the
skeleton fell through his trousers, the freaks
freaked, and Snoddy felt himself raised moun-
tains high

(6) And that elephant — oh, the game he had !
He was just like a blessed whirligig, with poor
Snodgrasg, Tupman, and Winkle for the 'osses "

Meanwhile Funny Cuts regales its readers
with a mad bull sequence, and Jokes makes
the eyes of the groundlings twinkle with
the story of a traveller who brings the butt
of his musket down on a lion's tail, thinking
it to be a snake, with results which are only
temporarily disagreeable to the lion. In
Comic Cuts one is faintly amused by a
couple of burglars who bring every instru-
ment known to their craft to the exploitation
of a safe. Their indignation is complete
when they discover that they have brought
dynamite and jemmies to open a safe which
proclaims on its front that it was ' ' made in
Germany." We accordingly behold the
senior practitioner opening the "biscuit-tin"
with an ordinary tin-opener held in one
hand. One is amazed by the brutality of
halfpenny humour. Collisions, duckings,
scrimmages, and attacks by bull-dog^ are
of its essence, and the cat on the tiles is
its symbol for ever and ever.

CORRESPONDENCE.

THE BUENS SUPERSTITION.

Sir, — In the Edinlurgh Evening Dispatch
of the 23rd instant there is a short report of
what appears to have been a very interesting
lecture of Mr. C. E. S. Chambers's on the story
of the publishing firm of which he is the
present head. In that report I find the fol-
lowing statement: " In connexion with the
Life of Burns he had the diary of Robert
Chambers in his tour of the Bums localities ;
but he would be afraid to publish it now.
It would excite a controversy, and it would
be a pity to disturb the romance that
encircled a great name."

Now, Mr. Chambers has said either too
much or too little. For Mr. Wallace, to
whom he entrusted the revision of Cham-
bers's Burns, has so thoroughly revised
Robert Chambers's ostimite of Burns that
he has revised it out of existence : the
statements which he has preferred being
utterly in the teeth of those of Robert
Chambers. Robert Chambers tells you, indeed,

380

THE ACADEMY.

[Apeil 2, 1898

that the charges of intemperance have
been " greatly exaggerated." But he can
do nothing except deplore " one serious
frailty " ; he affirms that " there was a
defect in Bums which no number of years
would have ever enabled him to remedy,
and this was his want of a vigorous will " ;
and, notwithstanding every desire to qualify
and excuse, he is compelled to own that
Bums "was unable to exercise a control
upon his own passions in the smallest thing."
Finally, he remarks that "it must ever be
a fearful problem, how such a being is to
stand towards the rest of society, how he is
to get his living, and how he is to observe
one half of the sober maxims of conventional
life." In other terms, Eobert Chambers's
opinion of Bums is, in substance, very much
my own: that he was a sort "of inspired
faun " and a " lewd, amazing peasant of
genius." With Chambers, as with Lockhart,
" I am glad," as I have said elsewhere,
"to agree that the truth lies somewhere
between the two extremes " ; only that
somewhere is not put by me so hopelessly
near to moral ruin as it is put by Eobert
Chambers.

But when you turn to the new issue of
Chambers you find that, without scruple,
without apology, without the smallest ex-
planation, witliout even the faintest hint
that such a thing is being done, Eobert
Chambers's deliberate and careful estimate
is blotted out of history, and you are intro-
duced in its stead to the " figmentary Bums "
of Mr. Wallace : a Burns so impossible
that of him Eobert Chambers, with every-
one else who knows anything of human
nature and has any belief in what he
knows, would pronounce that his like
never walked the streets of Dumfries, and
(in effect) is not to be found out of
Mme. Tussaud's. It is, in fact, quite im-
possible (so entirely unregulated by reason
is Mr. Wallace's estimate of Burns) to give
an analysis of that estimate, and it must
suffice to state that it results in this final
inference : " Time only was wanting to
realise his design, and Time was denied
him. But, though lack of time stopped
achievement, it could not alter the noble basis
of character on which Burns was working
when the night cime in which no man can
work" — which, of course, means — what?

Of course, too, Mr. Wallace, in his
preface to the Dunlop Correspondence, affirms
that in a certain letter Bums " effectually
disposes in advance of the modem theory
that he was ' an inspired faun ' and a
' lewd peasant of genius.' " Does this
letter, then, also dispose of Eobert Cham-
bers's statements and Eobert Chambers's
diary, which Mr. C. E. S. Chambers tells
you he is " afraid to publish " ? Or was
he also afraid to show it to Mr. Wallace ?
And if Mr. Wallace has seen it, and has
rejected its statements, is it fair, either to
the public or to Eobert Chambers, to allow
such a stain to rest on Eobert Chambers's
memory as is implied in the inference that
his estimate of Bums, which Mr. Wallace
is allowed to suppress, and which is virtually
to be excluded from all subsequent editions
of his book, was founded on untrustworthy
information? — I am, &c.,

March 28. W. E. Henley.

DIALECT.

Sib, — When I wrote a letter on dialect in
poetry, in reply to some observations of
Mr. Quiller-Couch, I had not read more of
those observations than was quoted in the
Academy. All the Scottish lion was stirred
in a bosom usually tranquil, and I ventured
to defend the literature of Alban against
that of the Somersajtas. But Mr. Quiller-
Couch quoted, in his article, such a beauti-
ful poem of Mr. Barnes, in the Somerset
dialect, that I must ask leave to withdraw
my remarks. Mr. Barnes, in those, and
doubtless in other verses, put dialect to its
jiroper use, and, though I still think the
literature of Scotland richer than that of
Somerset, I burn my faggot as far as Mr.
Barnes is concerned. — Faithfully yours,

A. Lang.

EOUND TOWEES.

Sir, — " Inquirer " has conferred too much
honour on my brief communication to you.
He has used a sledge hammer to drive home
a tin tack.

The fact is, some of my early years were
spent under the shadow of the Eound Tower
at Brechin ; and I have naturally ever since
taken some amount of interest in the subject
of Eound Towers, both in reading and inspect-
ing a few of them in Ireland. It therefore
appeared somewhat singular to me that your
reviewer, when noticing O'Brien's book, had
not given some prominence to a very pro-
bable surmise as to the use of these towers.

I am not an archaeologist by any means,
but possessing in some slight degree the
bookseller's faculty of remembering all he
reads, I recalled to mind the chapter dealisg
with the subject in Joseph Anderson's
Scotland in Early Christian Times (1881),
where he endorses Dr. Potrie's views ; and
the absence by your reviewer to any refer-
ence to his conjectures was my sole reason
for writing you.

I do not now propose taking up the
cudgels on behalf of his theory — which, all
the same, I believe in- — but will leave the
matter to be settled by "Inquirer" and
others, who know far more about the subject
than I do. — I am, &c.,

March 28. David Stott.

Sir, — Eef erring to the correspondence on
this interesting subject, it is a matter of
regret that, like many other questions of
historical importance, the "Eound Tower"
controversy has never yet been satisfactorily
cleared up. We may or may not be the
losers by tlie absence of any definite infor-
mation, and it would, therefore, be better
perhaps for all disputants to endorse the
words of the writer of an article that
appeared in Fraser's Magazine for August,
1835, and which is quoted at the commence-
ment of the introduction to a new reprint
of this book just issued :

" When all is dark, who would object to a
ray of light merely because of the faulty or
flickering medium by which it is transmitted ?
And if those Round Towers have hitherto been
a dark puzzle and a mystery, must we scare

away O'Brien because he approaches -with
rude and unpolished but serviceabln lantern '
—I am, &c., E. A. E'

March 28.

[This correspondence, which, judging r
the letters we continue to receive, miii
last till Lammastide, must now cease.— E I

NEWSPAPEE ENGLISH.

Sir, — A good deal is written in denunc
tion of what is called " Newspaper Englisi
Some of it would be more to the point'
there were no such thing as progress,
elasticity, as growth, in a living langua
distinguishing it from the majestic j
mobility of the dead tongues. The folic
ing quotation is not an example of " ne\
paper English" (an ill phrase, that,
itself by the way), but it is a sweet exam
of the way in which the most censorii
may go astray :

" An understanding with Russia; that wo
be a policy. An insistence upon the open doi
that would also be a policy, though, accord)
to our view, a dangerous one. But to harp
with ' Keep open, Sesame,' when Sesame
being barred and bolted ; that is mere fatilit;

The influential London journal from wh
the above is taken evidently thinks tl
" Sesame," in some language or anoth
signifies a door ! Yet it needn't .so much
have gone to that neglected compilation t
Arabian Nights to correct its quite idyl
ignorance. The encycloptodic Brewer woi
have steered it off the rocks : so, mi
likely, could any average school-gfirl, than
to Mr. Euskin ! — I am, &c.,

Dulwich : March 26. T. B. E.

BOOK EEVIEWS EEVIEWED.

"Simon Dale." ^E. AnTHONY HoPE's lat(

By Anthony novel is recognised as a d
°^' parture from his usual gem
and, on the whole, he is credited with
doubtful success. The Athenamm's critic
the most lavish of praise. He prefaces 1
review by a column and a half of remar
on the difficulties of writing a good historic
novel. It is after stating these diificulti
that this critic writes :

" Anthony Hope has very nearly obtain
a complete triumph in his Simon Dale, I
has chosen an excellent period for the action
the time of Charles II., known to us byM
Pepys and Comte de Grammont, an audaci
in itself deserving of success ; and the audaca
is all the greater and all the more successf
inasmuch as he obviously imitates Diimt
method in his narrative, and actually brings
Louis XIV. himself, as Dumas did in -
Vicomte de Bragelonne. Charles II. is excellen
he is witty, good-humoured, and, at the san
time, a king, even when he allows himself
be mocked by Rochester or Buokkgliam
Rochester and Buckingham, the Duke of Moi
mouth and the Duke of York, all live m oi
writer's pages, and the more vividly for n
narrative. ... As for the hero, he is a perfO'
hero of romance — he is brave, witty, Mjei
turous, and a good lover, and he succeeds i
the difficult task of narrating his own prowei
without a suspicion of priggishness. . •
[Perhaps the least convincing part ot

Ajbil 2, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

381

Tative is the hero's calf lovo for Nell Gwynne.
does not ring quite true, but it serves as an
use for a great deal of Nell, who is the
st charming coquette imaginable. For the
;, the story is rapid and most excellently
1."

<'rom the Atlunaiiim to tlie Referee may
m a far cry ; but the Referee, though not
literary organ, prints careful reviews ;
I in this instance its critic is at war with
brother of tlie Athenceum.

Is it possible to fix a standard of comparison

the criticism of uovels ? I think not.

en I say that Mr. Anthony Hope's new story

pt so good as oue might expect, I mean to

pare Mr. Hope with himself, toi Simon Dale

thuen) is better at any rate than the

rality of novels. To begin with, the

lor's wit is as nimble as ever, so you may

lire that this is not a dull book. The story,

ever, is not so animated as it should be;

although Mr. Hope, in introducing his-

al personages into his narrative, is innocent

,uy literary oft'ence, his romance of the

oration has not the sense of lifelikeness.

ously enough, it has not the plausibility

ih is characteristic even of the most fan-

0 of Mr. Hope's novels. This is dis-
inting, for one would say that a writer so

snguished for imagination and elegance and
iiry could hardly have hit upon a period
: ) agreeable to his fancy ; yet his Charles IT.,
SiOuis XIV., and his Nell Gwynne, who are
. )rominent characters in the intrigue of
I a Dale, are but the historical personages

1 fancy dress ball."

'le Westmimter Gazette's critic also
dlges in rather lengthy remarks on the
I tions of the historical novel. He thinks
a Mr. Anthony Hope, while not departing
e ;ly from these, makes the most of them :

[is model is Dumas, and none could be
He has one qualification for following
aster which many of his competitors have
He writes admirable dialogue and can
3p his story out of it. The dialogue of
I Dale is a delight to read, pointed, witty,
mt, and from a literary point of view
fling in dexterity and finish."

i( lie review has a mild sting in its tail,
ttj describing the story, tho critic becomes
n nitory :

e will tell no more of the story, but send

ader to the book, which he will find fall

i^ident and invention. In short, it is done

lely well, and a vast deal of literary skill

loyed on it. Yet, without being in the

istjiugratef ul, we are not quite sure whether

)uld not rather in future that Mr. Hope

yc id himself to something else. The histori-

ivel does not give him scope for those

' y original gifts which made his mark

11 of his earlier books, and which are as

hausted. We look to him yet for that

uiedy of modern Ufe which he seemed

piiiuxe us a year or two back. Meanwhile,

Dixit has great merits, and cannot fail to
ular."

irkig
jlo

Daily News' critic is laudatory. Eo-
on the excellence of Mr. Hope's
10, he writes :

the Duke of Monmouth) 'to me ? ' Simon asks
Noll Gwynne.

' I did but say that I knew a gentleman who
might supply his needs. They are four : a
heart, a head, a hand, and perhaps a sword.'

' All men have them, then.'

' Tho first true, tho second long, the third
stroi:g, the fourth ready."

' I fear, then, that I haven't all of them.'

' And for a reward '

' I know. His life, if he can come off with it.'

NeU burst out laughing.

' He didn't say that, but it may well reckon
up to much that figure,' she admitted.
' You'll think of it, Simon ? '

'Think of it? I? Not I!'

' You won't ? '

' Or I mightn't attempt it.'

' Ah ! You will attempt it ? '

' Of a certainty.' "

" *'W good, for instance, is this bit of talk

tw^n Simon and Nell Gwynne, when the

■ter|ias to tell her friend and half-lover of '

Mie that has been made for getting

' iuinton away from Dover Castle.

iJwow carry a message from him ' (that is,

Shltesi^m : The importance of Dr. Brandos'
aCriticiii Contribution to our knowledge

Studv." Bv Dr. n oi- 1 * i_ T i. J

Oeoii'e Brandes. 01 bhakespoare 18 not disputed.
The Times' critic makes out a
list of the qualifications which go to the
making of a Shakespearean critic :

"It is of no use for anyone to attempt to
write comprehensively on such a theme as
Shakespeare unless he possesses several endow-
ments which are uncommon when taken singly,
very rare indeed in combination. He must in
the first place, if he is to satisfy the demands of
the modern historical spirit, have a very exact
and full knowledge of Shakespeare's life and
times, of the literature which was then coming
into being, of the books which the poet must be
supposed to have read, and of the plays which
he had probably seen. He must, of course,
know his text, and have mastered the best
results of modern chronological study as applied
to it. Lastly, he must be a man of sound
critical sense, which, after all, in such a case
differs very little from common sense ; he must
eschew metaphysics, and have no moral parti
pris — which is as much as to say that he must
be a very different person from the eminent
Germans who, forty or fifty years ago, led tlic
fashion among the Shakesperean critics.
Whether it is equally necessary for our modern
scholar to be steeped in the writings of these
gentlemen and of the other commentators is
much less certain ; in fact, he may afford to
neglect tho vast majority of them, and to regard
at least three-quarters of existing Shakesperean
literature as a negligible quantity. Dr. George
Brandos has all or nearly all these qualifica-
tions."

The Daily Telegraph's reviewer amplifies
Dr. Brandes' qualifications as follows :

" Dr. George Brandes, of Copenhagen, is no
mere German scholar. Wo know that he has
devoted a life-time to the study of English
literature, and has understood with rare critical
insight tho extraordinary combination of antago-
nistic elements which goes to make up our
character. ' Norman and Saxon and Dane are
we ' ; we have taken lessons from the Benais-
sance, we have understood the Pagan attitude
towards nature, we have tried to copy classical
ideals, we have caught some of the languor and
fervour of tho South, we have pondered life's
problems with tho German, and we have laughed
and been sceptical with Kabelais and Voltaire.
When Dr. George Brandes writes about Shake-
speare he seems to understand better than any
foreign commentator of recent times how all
these discordant trains of thought and feeliag
were united in our great representative poet."

The Standard's critic finishes the portrait.
He thus describes Dr. Brandes' method:

" No one takes in at once the entire meaning
and significance of a Shakespearean play. To
be able to do so in tho fullest possible manner
it would be necessary to possess tho insight, the
power of appreciation, the information, and the
desire for further knowledge which distinguish
Dr. Brandes. When was the play produced,
what is it made of, whence do the materials
come, what sort of man was the author of these
materials — thus in his critical miud, one inquiry
leads to another, so that in considering ' Julius
CiBsar ' and the character of Caesar, Dr. Brandes
takes us from Shakespeare to Plutarch and the
three Lives on which the play is founded ;
from Plutarch's writings to Plutarch himself,
and the difficulty which this thorough Greek
(who not only was ignorant of Latin literature
and the Latin language, but ignored them)
would feel in doing justice to Cresar's high
qualities ; from Plutarch to Mommsen, who
judged Caesar from the Roman point of view ;
and, finally, from Mommsen back to Shake-
speare."

This critic concludes with an effective
compliment to Dr. Brandes simply as a
literary artist :

" In addition to his other merits Dr. Brandes
is a wonderfully attractive writer. At the
beginning of his first volume, the striking
manner in which he gives Shakespeare his
historical place in literature — born in the year
of Michael Angelo's death and of Cervantes'
birth — will at once arrest the reader's attention ;
and every reader will thank him for placing at
his disposal, in so orderly a manner and so
agreeable a style, the treasures of his vast
erudition."

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, March 31.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

Studies in Texts fok Family, Chuech,
AND School. By Joseph Parker, D.D.
Horace Marshall & Son. 3s. 6d.

Sermons Preached in Westminster Abbey.
By Basil Wilberforce, D.D. Elliot Stock.

The Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius
IN SYBt.4.c. Edited from the MSS. by the
late Wm. Wright, LL.D., and Norman
McLean, M.A. Cambridge University
Press.

A Study of the Saviour in the Newer
Light; or, a Present-day Study of
Jesus Christ. By Alexander Kobinson.
Williams & Norgate. "s. 6d.

The Kino of the Jews : a Poem. By
George Stewart Hitchcock. W. Hutchinson
(Chatham).

Companions of the Sorrowful Way. By
John Watson, D.D. Hodder & Stoughton.
2s. 6d.

HISTOEY and BIOGRAPHY.

Harr\ Druidale, Fisherman from Manx-
land TO England. By Henry Cadman.
Macnullan & Co. 8s. Gd.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRE8.

Richard Wagner's Prosb Works. Trans-
lated by William Ashtou Ellis. Vol. VI. :
Religion and Art. Kegan Paul.

382

THE ACADEMY.

[Apan- 2, 1898.

^HE Poems or Shakespease. Edited, with
an Introduction and Notes, by George
Wyndham. Methuen & Co. lOs. 6d.

POEPHYRION, AND OTHER POEMS. By

Laurence Binyon. Grant Richards.

RiCHAKD Wagner's Prose Works. Trans-
lated by William Ashton Ellis. Vol. V I. :
Religion and Art. Kegan Paul.

Nightshade and Poppies: Verses of a
Country Doctor. By Dugald Moore.
John Long. 3s. 6d.

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

A Tour Through the Famine Districts op
India. By P. H. S. Merewether. A. D.
Innes & Co.

SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY.

Outlines of Descriptive Psychology: a
Text-hook of Mental Science. By
Gefirge TrumbuU Ladd. Longmans, Green
& Co. 12s.

The Process of Creation Discovered; or,
the Self-Evolution of the Earth and
Universe by Natural Causes. By
James Dunbar. Watts & Co. 7s. 6d.

A Text-Book of Botany. By Drs. E.
Strasburger, Fritz Noll, H. Schenck, and
A. F. W. Schimper. Translated from the
German by H. C. Porter, Ph.D. Mac-
millan & Co. 18s.

Pure Economics. By Prof. Maffeo Panta-
leoni. Translated by T. Boston Bruce,
Esq. Macmillan & Co. 10s.

An UNKNO^vN People. By Edward Carpenter.
A. & H. B. Bonner. 6d.

BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.

Among the Meadow People. By Clara
Dillingham Pierson. J. M. Dent & Co.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Introduction to the Study of Sociology.
By J. H. W. Stuckenberg. Hodder &
Stoughton. 9s.

Giant-Land : the Wonderful Adventures
OF Tim Pippin. By "Roland Quiz."
James Henderson.

Tourist's Vade Mecum of German Col-
loqulal Conversation. Sir Isaac Pitman
& Sons, Ltd.

Madge's Letters : German and English on
Opposite Pages. Sir Isaac Pitman &
Sons. 6d.

Comic History of Greece. By Charles M.
Snyder. J. B. Lippincott Co.

An Araric Vocabulary for Egypt. By
F. E. Robertson. Sampson Low, Marston
&Co.

Chambers's English Dictionary: Pro-
nouncing, Explanatory, Etymological.
Edited by Thomas Davidson. W. & R.
Chambers, Ltd.

The Workers : an Experiment in Reality.
By Walter A. Wyckoff. William Heine-
mann. .3s. 6d.

NEW EDITION.

IBE Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver Gold-
smith. Service and Paton. 28. 6d.

ANNOUNCEMENTS.
In the April number of MacmillmCs
Magatine Mr. Charles Whibley reviews Mr.
Frazer's monumental edition of Pausanias'
Description of Greece, under the title of
" The Oldest Guido-Book in the World." In
the same issue a Scotch gentleman, who
conceals himself under initials, gives some
recollections of the days, now long distant,
when he wore the black uniform with the
silver death's head and cross-bones of the
Brunswick Hussars, "Les Chasseurs de la
Mort," as Napoleon's soldiers called them.

Messrs. Methuen will publish in a few
days a romance of adventure, by Mr. Victor
"Waite, entitled Cross Trails. The story is a
sketch of the " Eemittance Man " of our
colonies, and the motive the tradition of the
loss of a Spanish treasure-ship.

The world has been, and must be, without
an authorised life of Thackeray, owing to
the novelist's expressed distaste for a bio-
graphy. But his life is in his books, and
of each book a memoir has been written
by Mrs. Eichmond Eitchio, his surviving
daugliter. These memoirs will form the
introduction to the Biographical Edition
which Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co. have in
preparation. This edition, containing addi-
tional material and hitherto unpublished
letters and drawings, will be issued in
thirteen monthly volumes, beginning with
Vanity Fair on April 15.

Sir George Eobertson, K. C.S.I. , who
was at the time British Agent at Gilgit,
has written a story of Chitral from the point
of view of one actually besieged in the fort.
The book is of considerable length, and is a
connected narrative of the stirring episodes
on the Chitral Frontier in 1895. It will
be published by Messrs. Methuen in the
autumn.

Messrs. J. M. Dent & Co. will publish,
towards the end of April, T. Nash's A Spring
Song (1600), with illustrations by L. Leslie
Brooke, printed in colours by Edmund
Evans.

Messrs. Luzac & Co. have bought the
library of the late Dr. J. Legge, Professor
of Chinese at the University of Oxford.

The April number of the Antiquary will
contain articles on "Ancient Wall Paint-
ings," by George Bailey ; and on " Old
Sussex Farmhouses and their Furniture,"
by J. L. Andre.

The publisher of Trewinnot of Guy's is Mr.
John Long, not Mr. James Bowden, as we
stated last week.

Miss Anna Katharine Green's new novel
is called Lost Man's Lane. It presents a
second episode in the life of Amelia Butter-
worth, some of whose experiences have been
already told in That Affair Next Boor.

A SECOND edition of Dr. Whyte's ap-
preciation of Father John of the Greek Church
is now in the press, and a translation into
Eussian has been undertaken by Col. E. E.
Goulaeff.

The Portfolio Monograph on Greek Bronzes,
to be published by Messrs. Seeley & Co. in the
middle of April, ia written by Mr. Alexander

Stewart Murray, keeper of the Greet am
Eoman Antiquities at the British Museum
author of Greek Sculpture under Pheidiat
&c. The number will be illustrated main!
from the collection of Bronzes in the Britisl
Museum, and will contain several that hay
not been previously reproduced.

The Ilonouralle Peter Stirling is the till
of a novel by Paul Leicester Ford, whic
Messrs. Hutchinson & Co. will publish im
mediately. It deals largely with politicf
life in New York, and is attracting cot.
siderable attention there.

Messrs. J. M. Dent & Co. have projectei
another series of books. It will deal wit
country life, and be called the Eadik
Library. There will be works on angling
gardening, and similar subjects.

The Society for Promoting Christia
Knowledge will issue in the course of th
next few days Two Hundred Years : tl
History of ths Society for Promoting Christia
Knowledge, 1698-1898, by Eev. W. 0. I
Allen and Eev. Edmund McClure, the seoK
taries of the society. The work is largel
based on tho records, letter-books, report:
and minutes of the society since its foundE
tion. The early history of the plantation
in America, the beginnings of missionar
work in India, the emigration of the Salzljur
exiles, the early steps taken to provid
education for the masses and reUgious ir
struction for the seamen of the Englis
Navy and merchant marine, and the fir
attempts at prison reform made by it, ai
fuUy dealt with.

The Guild of Handicraft (Essex Hou8(
Bow) announce that they are about t
publish a translation of Benvenuto Cellini'
treatises on goldsmiths' work and sculptun
by Mr. C. E. Ashbee. This work, whic
has never yet been translated into Englisl
is intended to serve as a companion volum
to John Addington Symonds's translatio
of Cellini's Autobiography. The transla
tion is based upon the Marcian Codex, tha
being the original version of the treatises
as Cellini dictated them to his amanuensii
but which he withdrew from publicatior
and which did not appear till the middle (
the present century.

The first edition of T/w Book of Genesis i^
Basque, translated by Pierre d'Urte, wh
was in England in the reign of George th
First, was published at the Clarendon Pros
on June 1, 1894. A new edition, for th
pocket, will shortly be issued at a nomimi
price by the Trinitarian Bible Societ)
Being intended for popular reading, it
orthography has been modernised ; and th
few textual improvements, which will h
seen to be absolutely necessary, hare bee:
made— that is to say, some slight altera
tions, omissions, or additions— to bring thi
version into conformity with the French o
Calvin and the general style of the Basq*
author himself. The MS. at Shirburn CasU.
evidently never benefited by his persona
revision.

Saunterings in France, a new artisb'
and practical guide-book, will shortly o'
published by Mr. T. Fisher Unwin.

Apeil 2, 1898.1

THE ACADEMY

383

rHE FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW.

Edited by W. L. COURTNEY.
APRIL.
lERE LORD SALISBLRY HAS FAILED. By Piplomaticds.
E BKOKKN HATES cf DEATH. By W. B. Yeats.
JUOR TRAFFIC with WEST AFRICA. By Miss Mary Kixosley.
K l>OSTIIU.MonS WORK.S of ROBERT L0UL1 STEVENSON,
ily Stki'iikn- (iwrss.

E FREMII on the NIGER («Hh a Map). By Fhedk. A.
El'WAHDs, F,R.G.8.

E NATIONAL GALLERY and COMMON SENSE. By H. M.
I'avi-l.

LICE CAVALLOTTI. By Ocida.
^>KS on BIG GAME. By Theodork Roosrvklt.
N WE RELY on our WAR NEWS? By Micuael MacDonaoh.
iVEMLE KEFiiRMATORIES in FRANCE. By E. SrEARMAS.
E "MAINE" DISASTER and AFTER. By Fred. T. Jake.
!e STORY-TELLER at LARGE; Mr. HENRY HAKLAND.
l!v Henry Jasies.
If'NDLY SOCIETIES for WOMEN. By Rev. J. Fbome

WiLll.VSON.

ilTLSII TRADE and the INTEGRITY of CHINA. By Hoi.t S.
IIIallett. ^ „ ^

URESPONDENCE : Sporting Literature. By Hedlrt Pekk.
CBapuan & Hall, Ld.. London.

LACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.

So. 990. — APRIL, 1898. 28. 6d.

IPK AKD DkaTH in THB NiGER UBLTA. — PaOGBKSS IH

LAmj.— JoHF Splkhdid: Thk Tale o» a Pook Gek-
tfAN, AifD THE LiTTLi Wabs OF LoBN, by Neil Munro.
ps. xix.-xxii.— The Town of the Renegades: Agubai,
Walter B. Harris.— At the Stboke of the Hope, by

k.— MeS. OlIPHANT AS A BlOGBAPHEB.— The Boi' PBOM

! I.TTEAE11I, by Moira O'Neill. — Advehtukes of the

te de la Muettb dubing the Reign of Tebroe :

AMU9 AND Thisbe; The Mouse-teap, by Bernard Capes.

EMOiEs OF A Highland Lady.— The Overrillero.—

Chinese Imbboglio. — The Lookee-on. — The

OCEACT AND WaB : APPEAL TO THE RADICALS,

Price 68.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY C, KEGAN PAUL.

THE CATHEDRAL.

By J. K. HUYSMANS.

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[Atril 2, 1898

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THE ACADEMY

387

I CONTENTS.

.EViKWS : Page

An Amateur Biographer 387

[ An Open I>etter to Mr. W. H. Mellock 388

The Man of Mystery "™

A Poet Theorist

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REVIEWS.

AN AMATEUR BIOGEAPHER.

Brief Lives" chiefly of Contemporaries, set
down by John Aiibrey between the years
U669 and {696. Edited by Andrew Clark,
!M.A. 2 vols. (Clarendon Press.)

"TTHEN that learned and voluminous,
'V but most inaccurate writer, Anthony
"'cod, was engaged, about 1667, upon his
. ''story of Oxford, he received much assistance
iim. Mr. John Aubrey, of Trinity College.
Abrey, with far less industry, was a
Biolar, or, rather, antiquarian, of Wood's
on kidney. He was a Fellow of the
civly established Eoyal Society, and in-
ollinately proud of it. He was curious
i] all matters of scientific invention and
a hfeological research, and also in those
vsonalia about writers great and small,
fl ich, according to the point of view, may
b set down as literary history or as gossip.
hi own career had been a chequered one.
e son of a good Wiltshire faniily, he had
Ei(tered away his estate in idleness and
)rofitable schemes. Broken down in
and health, he retained his lively
srest in men and books and passed his
e in the familiar companionship alike of
?:ve scholars and of fashionable wits,
[i ifierently he haunted libraries and cofEee-
i<!se8, scribbling a little, drinking more,
»i;ing most. His head and his note-books
S'le crammed with reminiscences of the
nil he had known or seen, generally trivial,
)f|n scandalous. The Ilislory of Oxford
iijihed, Anthony Wood turned to the
ivli more considerable Athena Oxonienses.
M>rey seemed the very man for his purpose.
Ijbegged him to commit to writing any-
hjg that might be suitable for the projected
e^js of biographical notices of Oxford
' liters and bishops " since 1500, of which
hj work was to consist. Aubrey jumped
it ;ie proposal. He purchased some MS.
)0jc8, wrote a famous name at the top of
ia(| page, and jotted down facts or what
la^ed with liim for facts under each, as
le'oidd recall them or gather them from
be conversation of his friends. These
ueiorauda he presently sent to Anthony
V^d, and to them the Athena certainly

owes much of its life and colour, and not a
little of its untrustworthiness. The thing
led to a pretty quarrel between Wood and
Aubrey. Aubrey meant to have his papers
back, and to deposit them as a collection of
importance in the Bodleian. They were
freely written, and Wood was to make
discreet use of them. Aubrey complained
bitterly of the state in which they were
returned, mutilated for the printer, and with
libellous passages missing.

" Ingratitude ! " he cries. " This part Mr.
Wood hath gelded from p. 1 to p. 44. There
are several papers that may cut my throat. He
hath also cmbezill'd the index of it. It was
stitch't up when I sent it to him."

We regret to add that Wood added insult
to injury by speaking very slightingly of
Aubrey in the preface to the At hence.

Aubrey is not, of course, a serious
biographer. With the exception of the
long account of his friend Thomas Hobbes,
of Malmesbury, which was written under
different circumstances from the rest of the
Lives, he has left nothing but brief frag-
ments, a few pages, or even a few lines
long. They are, moreover, hastily scribbled,
disconnected, full of erasures, and of gaps
which he intended to fill up when he could ask
the man who knew. Moreover, he made it a
principle not to write down what was already,
so far as he knew, in print. What he does
record is often demonstrably untrue, and
the rest is, therefore, where it cannot be
verified, unreliable. Nevertheless, with the
exception, perhaps, of the singularly candid
self-revelations left us by such naive men as
Benvenuto Cellini, Kenelm Digby, Herbert
of Cherbury, there are few biographical works
more interesting. Aubrey is interested in
precisely those points which the serious
biographer dismisses as not worth mention.
He delights in quaint personal habits and
eccentricities of character. He loves a racy
story. He never forgets to tell you what a
man looked like, what he wore, what he
jjreferred to oat and drink. Of personal
description he has the gift, though one may
suspect here and there the satirical inten-
tion in the selection of features. " Raleigh "
he says, " had a most remarkable aspect, an
exceeding high forehead, long-faced, and
sore eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie." And
here is his vignette of Sir John Denham :

passages that would raise a blush in a young
virgin's cheeke. So that after your perusall,
I must desire you to make a castration, and
to sowe-on some figge-leaves — i.e., to be my
Index expurgatorim." Nor are his remarks
always free from ill-nature. Speaking of
his cousin, Harry Vaughan the poet, he
observes that his father was " a cox-combe
and no honester then he should be — he
cosened me of 50«- once." And some per-
sonal rancour must surely underlie the
following comprehensive comment on the
manners of a gentleman curtly denominated
as "Gwyn":

" A better instance of a squeamish and dis-
obligeing, slighting, insolent, proud, fallow,
perhaps cant be foimd then in . . . Gwin, the
earl of Oxford's secretary. No reason satisfies
him, but he overweenes and cutts some sower
faces that would turue the milke in a faire
ladie's breast."

"He was of the tallest, but a little in-
curvetting at his shoulders, not very robust.
His haire was but thin and flaxen, with a moist
curie. His gate was slow, and was rather a
stalking (he had long legges). His eie was a
kind of goose-grey, not big ; but it had a
strange piercingness, not as to shining and
glory, but (like a momus) when ho conversed
with you he look't into your very thoughts."

Of course Aubrey is as scurrilous as he can
be. If you believe him you 'must condemn
" Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother" as a
very wanton. In his cynical reflections
you behold scandals, as it were in the
making. "Ben Jonson," he says, "had
one eie lower than t'other, and bigger, like
Clun, the player ; perhaps he bogott Clun."
Of this quality in his gossip he seems to
have been himself fully aware. "I here
lay down to you," he teUs Wood, " the
naked and plain truth, which affords many

Aubrey may fail in decency or in temper,
but he rarely fails to be entertaining.
Indeed, your gossip of parts generally does
amuse. And Aubrey goes to his work with
such gusto ; he is so much interested him-
self in his little tit-bits of information, that,
perforce, he carries you along with him.
His task is a joy to him. " 'Twill be a
pretty thing," he writes to Wood, " and I
am glad you putt me on to it. I doe it
playingly " ; and again, " After I had began
it, I had such an impulse on my spirit that
I could not be at quiet till I had donne it."
His chief difficulty, indeed, was the morning
headache consequent on his mode of life.
" If I had but either one to come to me
in a morning with a good scourge, or did
not sitt-up tiU one or two with Mr. Wyld,
I could doe a great deal of businesse." And
for the social life of the seventeenth century,
for the undress manners of the Caroline and
Restoration writers, for the seamy side of a
London against which the Puritan outcry
was not unjustified, no better mirror than
Aubrey's note-books can be desired. His
facts may be distorted enough, but like the
impressionist painters, he catches the atmos-
phere. Nor, of course, is the picture with-
out its more pleasant passages. Aubrey has
no wish to exaggerate his shadows or to
leave out the high lights. He has much
that is pleasant to record of his poets and
scholars, generosities, genialities, devotions
to causes and ideals, sweet tempers, honours
bravely maintained. His very artlessness
led him to depict the varied web of humanity
truly as he saw it.

In the space of a brief review, to garner
a tithe of Aubrey's good stories would be
an impossible thing. Two or three speci-
mens may serve to illustrate his manner
and to send readers to the fountain-head.
Jovial Bishop Corbet was a famous Oxford
character, and the common-rooms supplied
Aubroy with many a jest of him.

" His conversation was extreme pleasant.
Dr. Stubbins was one of his cronies : he was a
jolly fatt Dr. and a very good house-keeper ;
parson of Ambroseden in Oxfordshire, As Dr.
Corbet and he were riding in Lob-lane in wett
weather ('tis an extraordinary deepo dirty lane)
the coach fell, and Dr. Corbet sayd that Dr.
Stubbins was up to the elbowes in mud, he was
up to the elbowes in Stubbing.

One tune, as he was confirming, the country
people pressing in to see the ceremonie, sayd

388

THE ACADEMY.

[Ai-RrL 9, 1898.

he, ' Beare-off there, or I'le confirme yee with
my staffe.' Another time having to lay his
h»nd on the head of a man very bald, he turns
to r.is chaplaiiie (Lushington) and sayd, ' Some
dust, Lushington' (to keep his hand fro.u
slipping). There was a man with a great
venerable beard ; sayd the bishop, ' You,
behind the beard.'

His chaplaine, Dr. Lushington, was a very
learned and ingeniose man, and they loved one
another. The bishop sometimes would take the
key of the wine-cellar, and he and his chaplame
would goe and lock themselves in and be merry.
Then first he layes downe his episcopall hat-;-
• There goes the Dr.' Then he putts of his
gowne— ' There lyes the Bishop.' Then 'twas
' Here's to thee, Corbet,' and ' Here's to thee,
Lushington.' "

Aubrey's MSS., or what Wood had left of
them, were deposited in the Bodleian.
From them a portion of the Lives were
printed by Philip Bliss in 1813. The pres-
ent handsome edition is the first complete
one that has appeared. Those who know
Mr. Clark's work for the Oxford Historical
Society will not need to be told that it is a
model of what a well-edited book of the
kind shoiild be. "With the exception of a
few quite impossible passages, Mr. Clark
has printed the MSS. just as they stand,
only re-arranging them so as to get the
names into alphabetical order and to collect
all the passages that refer to the same name
together. A comparison with Dr. Bliss's
edition shows not only that many of the
Lives are altogether new, but also that to
those previously printed many corrections
and additions have been made. Much of
the new material — for instance, the Key to
Sidney's Arcadia, sent to Aubrey by a corres-
pondent and inserted as it stood among
his papers — weU deserves the attention of
biographers and literary historians.

AN OPEN LETTER TO ME. W. H.
MALLOCK.

My Dear Sir, — Though I am personally
unknown to you, yet I venture to address
you in this letter because you were one of
my earliest enthusiasms. As the author of
The New RepuUic you seemed to my youthful
imagination the most brilliant, the most
trenchant of satirists, and, looking back
down the vista of years, I can still find, in
this your earliest volume, the promise of
a keen observer, a sound thinker, and a
writer of much polish and briUiancy. I am
not sure whether that promise has been
altogether fulfilled, but it was certainly
there. There is a story, probably untrue,
that the late Prof. Jowett said of" you, dis-
paragingly, that you would never do any-
thing more than write a second-rate novel.
You replied with The New RepuUic, in
which, under the name of Dr. Jenkinson,
you so happily ridiculed the late Master of
Balliol and his foibles, the man who could
not be offered a bishopric because, " though
it would be a g^eat compliment to learning,
it would be a grievous insult to God."
Nothing that you have done since in fiction
has come up to that book in merit. You
have attempted greater things, and no doubt

the attempt must always count for some-
thing; but the world, after all, can only
judge by achievement, and in no other book
have you achieved the same indisputable
and startling triumph. Other men have
written similar satirical sketches in which
contemporary characters have been held up
to ridicule. The name of Thomas Love
Peacock at once suggests itself. Mr.
Hichens, to take a modem example, had a
considerable success with his Green Car-
nation, and it would be easy to recall other
instances, but in this particular line your
New Republic seems to me easily first.
Every character in it, Matthew Arnold,
Pater, Jowett, Huxley, Tyndal, Pusoy,
Clifford (but especially the first three), is
sketched with a master hand, —

" All his faults observed
Set in a note-book, learned and connod by rote,"

as Cassius says, and that surely, though
not in itseK a very good-natured proceed-
ing, is a valuable accomplishment in a
writer in this genre. At the same time I
cannot wonder that the friends of these
gentlemen nourished considerable resent-
ment toward you for so admirably pillorying
their follies and vanities.

But The New Republic, you may say, was a
youthful indiscretion, brilliant, no doubt,
but in its nature essentially impermanent.
And you will probably prefer to be judged
by your later and more ambitious writings.
Leaving out of account, then, that rather
amusing skit, Th« New Paul and Virginia,
which followed your first success, your work
falls into three divisions. First of all there
are the novels — A Romance of the Nineteenth
Century, A Human Document, and the rest.
These have, I know, many readers, and,
I am willing to believe, many admirers.
But I, alas ! am unable to avow myself an
admirer too. I admit their cleverness.
Indeed, it would be impossible to deny it.
Your work, even at its least successfid, is
always clever. I admit that they may fairly
claim to rank, artistically, in a different
category from the mass of merely successful
Circulating Library fiction. But — the
murder must out — I find them duU. This
is, I fear, the besetting sin of the psycho-
logical novel, and you, as it seems to mo,
have been unable to escape it. Even your
wit has failed to save you.

After your novels your poems. I
remember some years ago seeing a volume
of these advertised at the preposterous price
(was it not ?) of eight shillings and promptly
ordering them. You see, I was still
hypnotised by the glamour of The New
RepuUic. I remembered one or two passages
of occasional verse contained in it which
displayed distinct ability, if no great in-
spiration, while the parody of Matthew
Arnold's drectmy rhymeless verse displayed
at least some mastery over technique. But
your poems were disappointing. There was
no "stuff" in them. They were full of
echoes of things which I seemed to have
read elsewhere. " By many a name, in
many a creed, they had called upon me,"
as Mr. Swinburne sings, and their vellum
cover and sumptuous amplitude of margin
could not atone for the want of originality
and force they enshrined. The poems were

the ' ' thin keen sounds of dead mei
speech." They had nothing new to oifc
nothing save a fair standard of metric
excellence, and a fair discrimination in t
use of language. In a word, they we
" minor " poetry, and minor poets, alas! a.
not uncommon.

You will say that it is very rude of ir
your unknown correspondent, to damnyc
novels (except The New Republic) and yo
verse with this faint praise, but there is st
another department of your work whi
remains to be spoken of, and of that I c
write with very much greater favour. Af^'
thepowder, the jam ; after the Human Bo.
merit and the poems, I come to those soc
logical and philosophical writings of yoi i
which I always read with pleasure for th •
clearness of thought and precision of sta
ment. The earliest of these is, of cour
h Life Worth Living ? — a suggestive and, ;
times, brilliant re-handling of an old qu
tion. That it provides a conclusive anav •
to the pessimist, who is always with us
should be sorry to assert ; but while it s i
forth with strict fairness the strength of 1 .
pessimist position, it, at the same tii
points out where those who wish may fi .
an escape from it. But I must really has i
to your latest work — Aristocracy and JFrt •
tion* — or if I do not, this letter will hn
come to a close before I reach it. And tl ;
would be to omit all mention of one of y( •
most successful and, at the same time, in ;
characteristic works. As an attack on t
blunders of the modern Socialist — his wf ,
of intellectual clarity and his inability
grasp the stern facts of practical life — it
quite admirable. Its title, I fear, is sod
what misleading. By aristocracy, the vulf •
are apt to understand merely what are cat .
the " upper classes " — to wit, the House :
Lords and perhaps the baronetage. ¥<
" aristocracy," on the contrary, is what
may call the Aristocracy of Litelleot and t
Aristocracy of Energy — in other words,
those persons who, by pre-eminent men
gifts, or pre-eminent organising or stiu
lating or business faculties, bocomo t
leaders of their fellow-men. You christ
j'our theory, in fact, "The Great M
Theory"; and your position is, that the n
causes of progress in the world are tin
intellectual, social and industrial mas:
minds who alone are able to lead the mi
of their f eUow-men in the way they shoi .
go. The Socialists, on the contrary, as
all know, love to speak of these " leader
of ours as created by society rather tli
creating it. According to their creed t
capitalists are not men who have been t
cause of great advances in industry a
commerce, and incidentally have reap
their reward for this, but robbers who,
superior astuteness, have contrived to s
propriate to themselves the major part
the benefits of achievements which are d
solely to the working classes. In this bo
you have no difficulty in showing that,
far from this being the case, the worki
classes might have gone on toiling tliroU;
the centuries without materially hastem
the march of progress were it not fort

* Aristocracy and Evolution. By W.
Mallock. (A. & C. Black.)

Apsa 9, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

389

"leaders," the "great men," the "Aris-
tocracy" of industry who directed their
labours. This is the main thesis of your
book, and you have expounded it most
luminously. And in these days we hear so
much of the Man being the product of his
Age that it is as well that we should be
reminded, as you remind us, in clear
language, that the Age is in at least
as true a sense the product of the Man.
Shakespeare was, in a sense, the product
of the age of Elizabeth with its triumphs
and adventures, its stimulating moral
and intellectual atmosphere. But have
not subsequent ages been, in some
of their aspects, the product of Shake-
speare? The great man is influenced by
his age, but he moves his ago also, and any
Isocial philosophy which ignores this, and
[pretends that social and intellectual progress
isprings from the multitude, and not from
Ithose who lead the miiltitude, is demon-
istrably fallacious. Men are infinitely
Irarious, and it is absurd to treat them,
even for the sake of argument, as all alike.

I have only touched upon what seems to
me the chief point in your book, but there
ire many other matters which I would speak
jt did space allow. In particular, I would
refer, with admiration, to the vivid illustra-
:ions with which you accompany your argu-
ment, and the flashes of wit with which you
ighten up your subject. But of these
hings there is no time to speak now, and
fOVLi readers must discover tliem for them-
lelves. — Believe me, your sincere admirer.

THE MAN OF MYSTERY.

r/w Life of Napoleon III. By Archibald
Forbes, LL.D. With 37 Illustrations.
(Chatto & Windus.)

T is difficult to believe that any man, save
flunkey, should find the career of the
econd Napoleon, commonly called the Third,
f an inspiring quality ; and the wonted
riskness and Irio of the style of Mr. Archi-
ald Forbes have not been proof against the
fidical meanness and squalor of his subject,
fever before have we encountered Mr.
"orbes in so wordy, so politic, so porten-
)usly solemn a mood as in this Life ; and
ever before have we found him failing to
rite with whole-hearted vigour and nervous
aap, and to hit straight from the shoulder.
t may be that years have taught him
idiousness and circumlocution ; but we
refer to believe it is a temporary effect
nposed by the dead-weight of his sub-
jict. From the outset we are sadly
apressed with the phenomenon. We
>me upon such crab-like, cumbrous, and
effectual sentences as this : Queen Hor-
nse "dreaded a repetition in the Eternal
ity of those bloody tragedies which near

Ie close of the previous century had made
Paris a human shambles," which, of
urse, simply means " a repetition in
mie" of the horrors of the French Eevo-
tion." By the former mode of ex-
■essiou there is no gain save in por-
ntousness and a sham kind of rhetorical

dignity — as when one would call a " spade "
an " implement of husbandry." There is,
indeed, not only so much of the " implement
of husbandry " style in the earlier chapters,
but also so careful and gingerly a step
among debatable matters, and withal so
deferential an air of impressment and
courtliness (as when, in the episode of
escape from Italy, we are told with astonish-
ment and admiration that ' ' Prince Louis,
the future Emperor of the French, in the
dress of a flunkey, slept on a stone bench
out in the open until at length horses were
procured") that we are tempted to wonder
whether Mr. Forbes had not undertaken to
write this Life of Napoleon III. under lofty
and distinguished patronage. But that
impression wears off ; and, although Mr.
Forbes continues tedious and portentous
until near the end, when he treats of
familiar matters of military action, we are
convinced he has done his utmost to compile
a true history of the little Emperor, and not
merely to achieve an apology for his life.

It must be admitted that it is difficult to
be both fair and effective in writing of Louis
Napoleon, who was at the same time so
much less and so much better than he
seemed, so much less a hero or personage
and so much better a man. Mr. Forbes
most conscientiously chooses the way of
entire fairness, so far as it can be attained.
He contemns equally the vehement and vit-
riolic abuse of Kinglake, and the turgid pane-
gyric of Blanchard Jerrold, while he utterly
ignores the windy anathemas and predic-
tions of Victor Hugo. He chooses early to
endorse the opinion of Louis Blanc. This
is what he says on p. 61 :

" Louis Blanc, with rare perspicuity, has thus
described the character of the Prince at the
opening of his active career : ' To be insensible
and patient ; to care for nothing but the end in
view ; to dissemble ; not to expend one's
daring on mere projects, but to reserve it for
action ; to urge men to devotedness without
putting implicit faith in them ; to seem strong
in order to be so ; such, in the egotistical and
vulgar meaning of the phrase, is the genius of
the ambitious. Now, Prince Louis possessed
scarcely any of the constituent elements of that
genius, whether good or evil. His easily moved
se:isibility exposed him unarmed to the spurious
offioiousness of subalterns. Through haste or
good nature he often erred in his judgment of
men. The impetuosity of his aspirations
deceived him or hurried him away. Endowed
with a natural straightforwardness injurious
to his designs, he exhibited in curious com-
bination the elevation of soul that loves the
truth and the weakness of which flatterers take
advantage. He was prodigal of himself to
augment the number of his partisans. In a
word, he possessed neither the art of husbanding
his resources nor that of dexterously exagger-
ating their importance.' "

That must seem to-day a very generous
estimate, for the sole remarkable thing about
"Prince Louis" was his belief in the
Napoleonic ideas. (Was not his favourite
phrase " les idoes Napolooniennes " ? and
did he not write a book about them ?) That
belief made him not only respectable but
formidable ; for he held to it as salvation
both for France and for himself with the
tenacity and fervour of a religious enthusiast.
Without it he would have been merely
a completely amiable, undistinguished, and

innocuous little maUi with a languorous
interest in art and literature, and an active
pursuit of strange women and obscure
superstitions, as befitted his origin — half
Italian, half Creole. It is hard now to
believe that for years he was known as
" The Man of Mystery," and was the puzzle
and the terror of European cabinets, and
that the dread of him provoked our Volunteer
movement.

The two unsuccessful attempts of Prince
Louis to impose himself upon France
as the heir and agent of the Napo-
leonic Ideas made him the laughing-stock
of Europe ; and no wonder. The first
attempt--that on Strasburg in 1836 — was
conceived and carried out in the spirit of
comic opera ; indeed, a comic opera for stage
production, if as fantastic, must be some-
thing more feasible and coherent. Mr.
Forbes, in narrating it, forgets the dignity
he has imposed upon himself, is compelled
to write with a kind of reluctance, and
rudely describes the Prince's proclamation
as " bunkum." Concerning this predestined
fiasco Kinglake, ' ' the virulent enemy [says
Mr. Forbes] of Louis Napoleon," remarks:

" In some of its features this attempt was a
graver business than was generally supposed.
At that time Louis Napoleon was twenty-eight
years old." [And, therefore, presumably beyond
the age of mere fantasy and comic opera.] . . .
" The men [of the 46th regiment], taken entirely
by surprise, were told that the person now in-
troduced to them was their Emperor. What they
saw was a young man with the bearing and
countenance of a weaver " [why jfcauer ?] "—a
weaver oppressed by long hours of monotonous
indoor work, which makes the body stoop, and
keeps the eyes downcast ; but all the while —
and yet it was broad daylight — this young man,
from hat to boot, was standing dressed up in
the historic costume of the man of Marengo
and Austerlitz. . . . But by and by Tallaudier,
the colonel of the regiment, having been at
length apprised of what was going on, came
into the yard. ... In a moment the Prince
succumbed to the Colonel. . . . One of the
ornaments which the Prince wore was a sword ;
yet without striking a blow he suffered himself
to be publicly stripped of his grand cordon of
the Legion of Honour, and of all his other
decorations. . . . Louis Napoleon could not
alter his nature, and his nature was to be
venturesome beforehand, but to be so violently
awakened and shocked by the actual contact of
danger as to be left without the spirit and,
seemingly, without the wish or motives for
going on any further with the part of a
desperado. . . . The moment he encountered
the shock of the real world, he stopped dead ;
and becoming suddenly quiet, harmless, and
obedient, surrendered himself to the first firm
man who touched him."

"These be very bitter words," but there
is a point of view from which they are fully
justified, and that is tho point of view of
the average insular Englishman, who neither
understands nor cares to understand the
nature and phenomena of a "foreigner" —
the point of view, in short, of Mr. Kinglake,
"the virulent enemy of Louis Napoleon."
These (and many more) are the words con-
cerning the Strasburg episode of one who
was a " virulent enemy," according to Mr.
Forbes's own accusation, and yet all he can
find to say in rebuke of them is, " The
diagnosis is actually vitriolic in its bitter-
ness, but it loses much of its venom because

390

THE ACADEMY.

[Apeil 9, 1898.

of its obvious and, indeed, undisguised
animus." And the voice is neither that of
a partisan nor of a good advocate. The
second attempt, that on Boulogne in 1 840,
was perhaps more extravagantly and fan-
tastically contrived and conducted than the
first. Concerning it Mr. Forbes makes no
comment at all. He contents himself with
a fuU narrative of the episode, and adds the
criticism of Kinglake, with the bare remark
that it is " very biting."

It is thus plain that Mr. Forbes is no
thick-and-thin apologist and admirer of
Napoleon III., though he palpably dislikes
to be forced to confess, now and then, that
he stood in a mean or a ridiculous situation.
On the other hand, he defends him where
defence has been rare and condemnation
general. In this coimtry in 1851 there was
scarcely a man of repute or knowledge to
be found who would excuse the coup (PUat
that changed Louis Napoleon from Prince-
President of the French Eepublic into
absolute monarch of France : the insult to
representative assemblies seemed so gross
and the destruction of life and deprivation of
freedom in the "days of December" seemed
so wanton. But at this time of day the point
of view is somewhat changed. Even in the
land of "the Mother of Parliaments" we
no longer have the old respect for talking-
shops, nor the old patience with vain and
tedious gentlemen who drown in floods of
babble the precious hours that should be
devoted to necessary matters of order and
government ; nor do we think that the
persons of factious parliamentarians, who
were ready if they got the chance to play a
similar game to Louis Napoleon's, were
especially sacred. We cannot but agree
with Mr. Forbes that the French Assembly
deserved the treatment it received — to be
turned out as Cromwell turned out the Long
Parliament; and we cannot pretend any
sympathy with the self-seeking notable
gentlemen who were arrested and kept a
wlule in durance ; least of all with the
contemptible little Thiers, who, twenty years
later, became President of the Eepublic.
Louis Napoleon was no Cromwell; but it
was with liim as has been said of a well-
known actor-manager of to-day: "He is
not much, but he knows how to surround
himself." Louis Napoleon had the faculty,
in those early and more alert days, of
surrounding himself ; and of those by whom
he was surrounded there was no abler nor
more astute counsellor and agent than his
half-brother, the Due de Momy, the first
patron of the late Alphonse Daudet, and the
De Mora of Le Nabob.

Some critics have made it a reproach
against Mr. Archibald Forbes that this
Life of Napoleon III. is but a compilation.
Yet it is hard to guess what else it should
be, for recent French research has not been
so rewarded with discovery as to tempt a
foreigner to grub in original archives, even
if they were accessible. Moreover, it is
impossible that there is now anything
to discover which can either raise or
depress Napoleon III. from his recognised
position as a well-meaning and amiable
man, but a weak, timid, and ineffectual
monarch. His kind has been common
enough even in oxir own country; it has

been loved and cherished at the fireside,
but hooted and hustled from the throne.
Mr. Forbes, as we have said, has not written
this history of his public life with any
enthusiasm, nor oven (it seems to us) with
much liking, but, all the same, liis volume is
such a useful compendiimi as has not been
hitherto accessible.

A POET THEOEIST.

Another Sheaf. By E. Warwick Bond.
(Elkin Mathews.)

It is an audacious thing to preface your
verses. Yet in Mr. Warwick Bond's case
we hold the audacity justified. The score
of admirably written pages which stand as
an introduction to Another Sheaf are packed
with acute criticism and wise comment upon
some of the conditions which at present
govern the production of poetry. Mr.
Bond's instincts are alarmed, not so much
by the lack of popular interest in poetry, as
by the free scope given in the absence of
control which such interest would supply to
certain tendencies which may result, he
thinks, in the disintegration of poetry itself.
He finds in our latest rhymers a striving
after originality which leads them in
extravagance, a worship of " soimd, and
colour, or merely metrical effects," to the
exclusion of "thought and imagination, of
clear sense and definite invention." Against
"crude, indecent, or silly productions " he
would set up "quiet work, rooted in the
past and striving to base itself on iiuniutable
principles." In our own judgment Mr.
Bond exaggerates the extent of the spirit
which he condemns, and underestimates the
real value of experiment in verse. Never-
theless his modestly and sensibly expressed
protest is worth weighing, and his own
achievement is an excellent illustration of
the methods he would extol. He is in the
classical tradition, and has caught much of
its stately manner and dignified felicities.
His verse is intellectualised, yet his elaborate
stanzas have nothing rugged about them ;
they unroll a serene and melodious length.
In the most considerable poem of the
volume, "At Stratford Festival," there is
fine thought, fine feeling, and fine music ;
we have road it with pleasure and shall do
80 again. Here are two stanzas on Shake-
speare's return to Stratford Puritanism :

" He, too, confessed the auroral sympathies :
Afar through mist of triumph and of tears
He caught their paradisal gleam, and
saved
A quiet remnant from his strenuous years ;
To Nature, wife, and child returning
braved
The petty calumnies,
The peevish scorns, the looks precise that
freeze
A wandering heart come back to wonted
ways.
But witlessly ye raise,
Dear fools ! your eyebrow of contempt, for
these

Do but enlarge their empire by your ban !
Think of those stormy spirits as reedi of
choice
Plucked by a Active Deity that wrought
Tumultuous pipes for his great organ-voice
Teasing life's every fibre to the thought.
Ye, whose mechanic plan
Would mend the bungUng of tins Arfisan,
Con these last leaves; and, as blessed evfs
discern
The aU-conquering sunshine, learn,
The poet yet may purify the man ? "

'J The auroral sympathies" is a phrase that
lingers, and the only thing we do not quite
like is the running over of the sense from
the first to the second stanza. Surely so
long and elaborate a stanza-form may claim
its progression by unities !

There is some fine austere writing in
" The Ordered House," of which tlie larger
part is a Stoic monologue by Brutus after
Philippi. Here, too, Mr. Bond prefers an
elaborate metre, and handles it with skill
and distinction. This stanza, for instance,
has its authentic dignity, and there are
many as good :

" Hast thou not oft from some disastrous hour
Plucked such an issue as redeemed the field y
Can'st thou not fashion from defeat a power
That mocks the victory of spear and shield ?
If to our rude assaidt shall never yield
The fortress of thine unascended sky,
In sorrow shall the conquest be revealed,
In sacriiice the race their bliss descry,

And catch through mist of tears the bla7.eof
Deity."

And finally, these beautiful linos were
written as a " Swan Song " for Webster's
noble and intimate tragedy, " The Duchess
ofMalfi":

" Pass gently, Life !
As one that takes farewell of a dear friend :
For ne'er till now were thou and I at strife,

Nor shall the sequel lend
The rich succession of thy smile and tear,
The conquering pride of love that tramples
fear
And vaunts itself a rapture without end !
But mine is weariness thou can'st not mend.

Come, kindly Death I
Unweave for tired hands the tangled plot !
To thy forgetful palace entereth

None to ask heriot
No hope and no regret — but ever, there.
Passes the slumbrous waft of poppied air
O'er happy multitudes that have forgot :
Angel, I would be sleeping — tarry not ! "

It is scholarly poetry, you see ; meditative,
interpretative, by no means strident. Mr
Bond defers legitimately to great mastere
there is an Elizabethan note liere, a note ol
Shelley there. The strongest individual in-
fluence is probably that of Matthew Arnold, ^
and for the perpetuation of the Amoldiau
tradition in English poetry we must always
confess gratitude.

LPBIL

9, 1898.J

THE ACADEMY.

391

I FOR STAMP COLLECTORS.

"} Stamp Collector. By W. J. Hardy and
jj. D. Bacon. (George Redway.)

'is volume follows Mr. Hazlitt's The Coin
vector and Mr. Wedmore's Fine Prints in
^ "Collector Series." Taken together
^ tliree books are a guarantee of the worth
She series. In one respect Messrs. Hardy
[j Bacon's book introduces a new note ;
^subject is acutely modern. Coins and
ijits have been collected for ages ; but the
postage stamp was struck less than
y years ago, and many of the first
latelists are living. Mr. E. von der
^ek, the Russian collector, who has a
MX to be the father of the hobby, began
acting in 1854, and is still at work on his
; ims. On the whole, it is clear that stamp
■ scting had its wayward beginnings about
" , In 1 860 Mme. Nicolas's shop in tlie
Tarbout, Paris, became a rendezvous
lealers; in 1862 the first English guide
amp-collecting was published in London ;
a few years later stamp-dealing became
;ral enough to be ridiculed in the press
recognised in the Directory. Messrs.
idy and Bacon scarcely trust themselves
rrite about those languid sixties. To
been a collector then ! — that is the
of every collector now. After 1866
mania lessened. It was but gather-
its force for an astonishing advance.
10 1870 stamp-collecting has become the
in of a trade, the hobby of princes and
ionaires, and the solace of tens of
c .sands of pettier men.
flon, indeed, the world could not revolve
enough on its axis for the philatelist,
apter of this book is devoted to " Stamps
for Collectors " — stamps, that is to
y which have been called into being, not
useful, but to be gummed into albums,
ndustry still flourishes ; and our authors
> the following precious letter, written
Borneo by the agent of a stamp-
;ting firm, and dated " Labuan
h 30, 1895":

have just come back from Brunei, having
to see the Sultan and Postmaster about
business principally. Let me explain that
wilwho suggested to the Sultan that he
51 1 issue stamps, and I have arranged the
ic 1 thing. He and his Postmaster have no
la^f the way to conduct any business. I
11] ! you that the delay in sending the stamps
y I is caused by the illness of the Postmaster's
to-at least one of his wives. In the mean-
idho post-office is shut."

it| stamp-making of this kind is now
sti' effectually discouraged.
V^! cannot trace tlie march of stamp-
luting as it is detailed by Messrs.
ity and Bacon. Our authors aro
>ngh; and the chapters entitled "Art
I stage Stamps," "Stamps with Stories,"
jc|iI Stamps," and "The Stamp Market"
; dl of interest. The book is hardly a
id to stamp collecting. Messrs. Hardy
I aeon greet the would-be collector with
n I and weary smile. They do, indeed,
id jcend to the plodding, interested collector
e less opulent collector," they call him),
; 18 book ends with staggering price-
8,iind descriptions of the collections of a
tlihild and a prince of the blood.

BRIEFER MENTION.

So9ne Welsh Children. By the Author of
Fraternif;/. (Elkin Mathews.)

IT would not be easy for the least impres-
sible to read the ten sketches comprised
in this pretty volume without submitting to
their fascination. Perfumed with humour
and melancholy, they proceed from a mind
in retreat from a world that has grown
dull and stale. The nursery myths of Jack
Frost and Betty Snow, of Morris the wind
(perhaps), and of the monstrous house sprite,
Evanrodenacw ; the persistent inexplicable
impressions derived from the nursery book-
shelf ; the mysterious properties of nursery
toys and nursery furniture— all these are
explored with such delicacy and sincerity
that the sympathetic reader lives for some
brief moments in the child's world of make-
believe. Perhaps the most charming chapter
of all is that which treats of "The Little
Brothers." There had been born into this
family of girls a little brotlior, but "God
had taken him away from us because we
were not ' worthy,' our mother had given
us to understand."

" It was impossible to feel much warmth of
sisterly affection for this spotless being. And
while we felt the slight implied to ourselves, we
fuUy concurred in our secret hearts with the
wisdom which had ordained his removal from
our midst. We knew well enough that we were
no fit companions for immaculate purity. But
we liked the distinction conferred by an angel
brother, and heaven was the right place for
him."

At last there came a little brother who did
succeed in developing, from a disappointing
stage of mottles, wrinkles, and baldness, into
a very human and charming child. He
occasionally had a difficulty in squaring
matters with his father :

"Master Richard consoled himself for his
defeat by making special mention of papa in
his evening prayer in loud and unctuous tones.
' Grant, O Lord, that my dear father may be
forgiven for his sinfid temper this day, and
give him grace to control his passion ; soften
his heart, O Lord,' &c."

Imagine the feelings of this same parent
when, being introduced to the bedside of a
relative sick unto death, the child broke
eagerly forth : " May I go to your funeral,
please ? Do ask papa to promise to take me
to your funeral." But this attraction towards
the more solemn rites of religions service,
unhappily, was not accompanied by such
rigid orthodoxy as you might expect :

" When Richard heard of the terrible fate
which overtook the laughing children who
mocked Elisha's baldness, he hesitated long
between incredulity and indignation.

His sympathies were naturally entirely with
the children. ' It was too bad ! ' he declared
with great disgust.

And the history of Ananias and Sap-
phira . . . only seemed to anger him against
the Apostlesi

'Peter hadn't been so very good himself,"
he gloomily remarked. Then going to the root
of the matter, after a moment's reflection :
' Jeaus toould never have done that ! ' "

One cannot but rejoice to learn that this
prematurely critical habit in no way troubled

his confidence as to the allotment of his own
sempiternal mansion; for the child never
grew up :

" He knew no fear.

' It does seem strange that I should die
when there were so many old people in the
village,' he said half-wonderiugly ; 'I should
think they will be surprised to see me in heaven
before Papa. You had better send down to the
village to ask if anyone has any message they
would Uko me to take for them. It's a good
thing I can speak Welsh.' "

We have quoted enough, we hope, to
engage interest in a book which has real
charm.

The Women of Earner. By Walter Copeland
Perry. (Heinemann.)

Mr. Perry addresses himself primarily to
those ignorant of Greek. After a brief
general discussion of the "Homeric ques-
tion," he describes the position of woman
in Homeric civilisation, and proceeds to a
study of the individual female types — divine,
semi-divine, and human— painted in the Iliad
and Odyssey. It is a good subject, more
especially in view of the recent paradoxical
theory put forward by Mr. Samuel Butler,
that the very author of the Odyssey was a
woman. But we cannot profess to be
pleased with the way in which Mr. Perry
has treated it. To rehandle the criticism of
Homer, after what has already been written,
requires some subtlety of touch, and this
Mr. Perry has not got. He means well,
but he fails to catch the right accent.
Instead of being simple, he is banal and
commonplace, and his attempts to write
brightly, and even humorously, only
succeed in setting our teeth on edge. It is
suburban, surely, to speak of Hecuba as
turned into a "female dog," or, after
stating that Homeric " marriage was a
matter of arrangement and barter between
the suitor and his intended father-in-law,"
to comment in a footnote, "How different
from our own matrimonial arrangements, in
which love and merit alone decide ! " But for
the infelicity of its manner, the book would
be useful. Mr. Perry knows his archa)ologj%
and explains it carefully. The English
reader wUl not, however, understand why
Ibycus sneered at tlie Spartan women as
</>ai»'o/tr;pi8cs without a translation. There
are numerous illustrations, not all remark-
able for their relevance; and in an appendix
Mr. Perry adopts the ingenious, but un-
trustworthy, views of the late Mr. Benecke
on the treatment of women in later Greek
literature.

on Siberia. By James Young
(Wm. Blackwood & Sons.)

Side Lights
Simpson.

Mr. Simpson journeyed in Siberia in the
summer of 1896 with a quick eye; and he
has made a book of nearly four hundred
pages out of his experiences. The note of
it is the imminence of the great Siberian
iron road from Russia to Vladivostok. It
is clear that in this country we have not
formed a just conception of this stupendous
engineering work. But Mr. Simpson has
come, seen, and — been conquered. He
writes :

" When in the years to come men review the
greater undertakings of the nineteenth century,

392

THE ACADERIY.

[ArisiL 9, 1898

it will be hard to find a rival to the Trans-
Siberian Eailway. Winding across the illinut-
«ble plains of Orenburg, traversing the broad
Urals, spanning the widest rivers, like the
Irtii-h, Ob, and Yenisei, it creeps round the
southern end of Lake Baikal, and mounts the
plateau of far Trans-Baikalia. Thereafter,
leaving behind it the Yablonovoi Mountains,
the line descends into the valley of the Amur,
exchanges it presently for that of the Ussun,
and ends at last in VJadivostok."

Such is the inspiring route of a rail-
way which is twice as long as that which
joins New York and San Francisco, and
traverses a country inhabited by peoples that
know not each other. All the more interest-
ing by reason of the coming change is the
account given of the well organised Siberian
post system. Mr. Simpson describes its
working in detail. Here is a part of the
picture :

" Among ordinary passengers, the claim
to horses at any station is decided by the order
of arrival. The passage of the post is the one
great hindrance to the eager traveller, as it
leaves so many empty stalls behind it, and
everyone must give precedence to it. Tables
are hung upon the station wall showing when
it is timed to reach thnt i^artictilar halting-
place ; hence the postmaste'S know exactly
when to expect it, and for throe hours before
reserve the required number of horses. More-
over, the complement of horses kept at
each station averages tw<=nty-oue, so the
feelings of the traveller may be imagined
when he sees the post drive in, consisting,
as it of en does, of five tarantasses in charge
of one or two armed official^. Trds means
fifteen at least of the available stock swept
away at once, and, if the station is crowded,
there are heartbunn'i gs as one or two favoured
individuals drive off with the remaining teams."

We have not space to follow Mr. Simpson
into the penal settlements. He traversed
the convicts' country and examined the
convict life thoroughly. What we wish to
note is that Mr. Simpson was led to the
definite conclusion, on evidence supplied by
the convicts themselves, that "the present
condition of the political exiles is not so bad
as many would have us believe."

Evolutional Ethics and Animal Psychology.
By E. P. Evans. (Heinemann.)

The interest of this book is primarily an
ethical, rather than a psychological one.
Mr. Evans desires to combat the view taken
by scholastic philosophy, that as animals
have no "souls" there cannot be, strictly,
any moral duties towards them. The theory
is not so paradoxical as it seems, because
there may be a duty to act kindly towards
animals without its being precisely a duty
" to " the animal. Mr. Evans seems to have
somewhat imperfectly grasped this dis-
tinction, and no doubt it is true that the
belief that animals were made solely " for
the use of man " has had its corollaries of
practical brutality. Surely, however, Mr.
Evans is overstating his case when he says
of kindness to animals, that " no treatise or
pastoral theology ever touches this topic,
nor is it ever made the theme of a discourse
from the pulpit, or of systematic instruction
in the Sunday-school." We cannot answer
for the Sunday-schools, but the following
passage from a circular issued by the Educa-
tion Department with regard to the instruc-

tion of day-schools lies before us as we write :
"Good object-teaching develops a love of
nature and an interest in living things, and
corrects the tendency which exists in many
children to destructiveness and thoughtless
unkindness to animals, and shows the ignor-
ance and cruelty of such conduct." It
is, of course, true that the exclusion of
animals from moral rights is inconsistent
with the more extreme evolutional psycho-
logy, for which the human consciousness
does not differ in kind from the types of
animal consciousness out of which it is
conceived :is being evolved. The bulk of
Mr. Evans's book consists of a survey of
animal consciousness from this point of
view. H'.' attempts to minimise the barrier
between tlio animal and liuman self,
criticises Prof. Max Miiller's theory that
this barrier is to be found in the capacity
for articulate speech, and searches among
animals for rudiments of assthotic and even
religious sentiment. Animals, he says,
" are amenable to rewards and punishments,
doing the will and seeking to win the
favour of superior beings, on whom they are
dependent, propitiating and fawning upon
them, creeping and grovelling on the ground
in abject adoration, in order to assuage
their anger or to secure their kind regard."
Well, if this is the religious sentiment no
doubt animals have it : to us it reads like a
parody. Granted the general standpoint of
his psychology, in our opinion a thoroughly
false one, Mr. Evans has written an in-
teresting and, on the whole, a weU-reasoned
book, and a book not devoid of entertain-
ment. Some of his examples of the excess
of sentiment towards animals are delightful :
the lady, for instance, who advertised for
"well-mannered and weU-dressed children
to be employed for several hours each day
to amuse a sickly cat"; and Cardinal Bellar-
mine, who used to let bugs and other insects
bite him undisturbed, on the plea that
" we shall have heaven to reward us for our
temporal sufferings, but these jjoor creatures
have nothing to look forward to except the
enjoyment of the present life." Por some
of Mr. Evans's animal stories we should
ourselves desire very exact verification
before using them for argumentative pur-
poses : they have a suspicious resemblance
to those which Balliol undergraduates used
to send, and for all we know, still send to
the Spectator. And Mr. Evans ought not to
have quoted the statements of Mr. E. L.
Garner, since he shows in a note that he
is perfectly well aware of the probability
that Mr. E. L. Gamer is not in authority.

The Highlands of Scotland in i750. Prom
MS. 104 in the King's Library, British
Museum. With an Introduction by
Andrew Lang. (Blackwood.)

That convenient abstraction, the general
reader, in spite of tourist-tickets, yachting
cruises, and deer forests, still views the
Western Islands and the HiU Country
through the glamour of time and poetry.
For he has trodden those showery solitudes
with Vich Ian Yohr, Eob Eoy, and Alan
Breck Stewart, and trudged many a

j mountain mile beside the stirrup of Dr.

I Johnson, high chief of Island Isa. But the
author of The Hiijhlands of Scotland in i750

went on his way unaccompanied by even an
imagination. Indeed, an imagination was
not required of him, for Mr. Lang, in a
learned critical Introduction, tells us that he
was probably a "Court Trusty," named
Bruce, who was employed in 1 749 to survey
the forfeited and other estates, and to sug-
gest schemes of reform in the interests of
the Black Cockade. In a word, "the dog
was a Whig," and, of course, performed his
task in a violently congenial fashion. Here
are no intimate pictures of manners, such as
are to be enjoyed in 'Rurt^ & Letters from the
North of Scotland, or in Johnson, Scott, and
Boswell ; but an ordered array of plain state-
ments, relating principally to the localities
of the tribes, the names and characters of
their chiefs, their disposition towards the
Hanoverian Government, and the numbers
of their fighting men. On most of tliese
points the writer appears to be well-
informed ; but his estimate of the Highland
strength on a war - footing at 220,000
claymores is, as Mr. Lang notes, enormously
above that of the Gartmore MS., wliick
places it at 57,500 men, a figure which
Scott, who owned the MS., puts into the
mouth of Bailie Nichol Jarvie. On the
whole, the book is certainly one to be
possessed by those especially interested in
its subject, and it may be usefully com-
pared with the volumes of Browne and
Skene. But it is curious to observe that
Bruce is so utterly prejudiced against the
military spirit when it is displayed by the
HiU-men that he finds no better word
than " madness " to describe the heroism oi
the Macleans at Inverkeithing. He adds
that, "tho' none but the Eefuse and
Gleanings of them went to the Battle oi
CuUoden, yet no Clan lost near their Pro-
portion, for of 240, most of their officers and
above 160 of their men were left Dead upor
the Field." Upon which one saya with
Boswell : " The very Highland names, oi
the sound of a bagpipe, stir my blood, anc"
fill me with a mixture of melancholy and
respect for courage."

Cassell's Family Lawyer. By a Barrister-at

Law. (CasseU & Co.)
This is a reference book of more than
1,100 pages. The author's aim, however
has been to make the book readable am
informing, even to the man who has nc
anxious need to consult its pages. Wha
he very properly does not aim at is to instruc
laymen how to conduct actions. The func
tions of the book are precisely analogous t(
those of a household medical book, with th'
difference that whereas the study of a bool
of medicine is apt to generate imaginar)
ailments, the study of this FamiI,i/_ Lawfi
will scarcely rouse the spirit of litigatioii
Cromwell described the law as " an ungodl;
jumble." Here it appears by no means a
a jumble, but as an everyday mentor am
philosopher. We have chapters devotei
to "Husband and Wife," "Parent am
Child," "The Householder," "The Lan^
lord," "WiUs," "The Franchise," "Th
Law of the Workman," "Agents," "BUlf
Notes, and Cheques," and so on ad tnfini
turn. A bland introduction and a copiou
index complete a work of imdoubted use
fulness.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, APRIL 9, 1898.

THE NEWEST FICTION.

A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.

!eo8S Trails.

By Victor Waite.

" Mad with pain, he caught one man by the arm and swung him
und, dashing his head against the wall with a sickening crunch.
d the same time he hurled the second man from him with a kick,
j'hen, with a bellow like that of an angry bull, he picked up a
[ttle one-legged table that stood by the bed, and fell upon his
[ssailants. The first man dropped with a fractured skull." Such
ji Mr. Waite's happy way. The story is of adventurous men, in
jouth America and Australia, and of hidden treasure, and treacliery
nd assassination, and love and strength, and every page is
athralling. A godsend to a schoolboy. (Methuen. 456 pp. 6s.)

HE HONOUKABLE PeTEE STIRLING.

This is the novel of Transatlantic

By Paul Leicester Ford.
politics which Americans

ave been buying to the extent of thirty-five thousand copies. We
light quote the reply given by the editor of the JVeiv York Times'
iterary Supplement to the reader who asks if it is true that the
laracter of Peter Stirling is based on that of Mr. Grover Cleveland :
Mr. Ford was appealed to and asked if the character of Senator
!^aguire was not taken from Senator Hill and that of Peter Stirling
om that of Mr. Cleveland, but Mr. Ford remains non-committal."
lutchinson & Co. 417 pp. 6s.)

iNo Circumstance. By ED-ft-m Pugh.

Twelve short stories by the author of that clever novel. The Man
' Straw. Gathered from various magazines and newspapers, they
3 not all conspicuously reflect Mr. Pugh's studies of London life,
any of the stories being rural in their setting ; but this is not the
se wtth " Settles : a Cockney Ishmael," which opens in a down-
nst public-house, where the smell of Thames mud is perceptible.
The Inevitable Thing" is another story of low London life,
leinemann. 303 pp. 6s.)

3LICAN House, E.C.

By B. B. West.

Open this story where one will, amounts of money greet the eye.
le story is satirical of City doings, and particularly of the Honi
liit Qui Mai y Pense Company, Limited. Turning the pages in
ftne bewilderment (for we are not financiers), we spy such
mtences as these: "If he wanted £600, part in fruity port, he
<|uldhave it at the usual rate." " The remaining £32 6s. lOd.
. was to be handed, less omnibus and other charges, to the
I'ofessor for greasing the palm of the Pontifical Prime Curser."
^riie total sum, some £78 odd, she poured into her brother's lap."
'JMrs. Henry Palmerstown must in any case have her £750." In
■'o City the story should find readers, or, at least — auditors.
Fisher Unwin. 276 pp. 68.)

'Rtune's Gate.

By Alan St. Audyn.

The author of A Fellow of Trinity, and other stories over which
I dergraduates sometimes daro to make merry, is here again on
t3 familiar groimd. He is stiU, to adapt an old joke, calling up
sirits from the 'Varsity deep. In the first sentence of the first
capter Andrew Clay goes to Cambridge. Subsequently we come
t the larger life, but the story, in the main, is of the colleges and
I'lwnham, and Andrew's debts and idleness. " Fortune's Gate "
a pill, with the assistance of which Andrew hoped to make

306 pp. 6s.)

By Edgar Jepson.

Ist riches. (Chatto & Windus.

fcEPERS OF THE PeOI'LE.

jHerein the author of A Passion for Romance blends two civilisa-
t^s and three nationalities. Part of the story is laid in England,
p|:t in Eussia, and part in Varandaleel, which lies east of Russia

and hates it. Prince Ealph of Varandaleel, Prince Melinsky
(his foe). Lord Lisdor, Althea, Euth, Vashti, the Eeverend Peter
Stuckor — those are s\ifiiciently bizarre characters ; and there is war,
and a tiger fight, and love in plenty. A barbaric romance of the
present time, with such a passage as this in it : " ' No,' said Althea,
' I am sharpening this sword for you. If we get the worst of it,
I am to kill you. That was Prince Ealph's orders ; and he has my
promise.' " (C. Arthur Pearson. 358 pp. 6s.)

LtxKY Bargee.

By Hakey Lander.

Let us quote the dedication : " To the silent companions of many
wasted hours, my bulldogs Boss and Spider, this book is dedicated
without permission, as an acknowledgment of their grave contempt
for such follies." The book, one sees, is humorous. It dealeth with
the lower river, and hath a plethora of slang. (C. Arthur Pearson.
286 pp. 38. 6d.)

The Romance of a Nautch Girl.

By Mrs. Frank PENhT

Another of those Indian stories which are proclaimed in a
preface to be concerned with hidden mysteries. At once we are
hypnotised by motionless air, busy cicadas, and the soft moan of
the casuarina's needles. Also there are devil dances and nautch
dances, and when things are not pulsing wildly, sweetmeats and
betel nut are handed round. The atmosphere of the temple
and the demon-haunted grove mingles with that of the canton-
ment; nor is it surprising that Minachee finally "took wing
to other scenes where the drumming of the tomtom and the orgy of
the heathen poojah filled her wild heart with a gladness that made
her life complete." (Swan Sonnenschein. 369 pp. 6s.)

A Secret of Wyvern Towers.

By T. W. Speight.

Mr. Speight's hand is cunning in devising and unravelling
mysteries, as readers of The Mysteries of Ilcron Dyke know. In the
new book, the first wife of Mr. Drelincourt of Wyvern Towers is
murdered, by whom no one knows, no one even suspects, until
p. 289, when the clearing up begins. An old-fashioned and quite
readable romance of the kind perfected by Wilkie CoUins. (Chatto
& Windus. 301 pp. 6s.)

A Soul on Fire. By Florence Marryat.

" His hands wandered about the soft-cushioned velvet, and he
spoke to himself, until they rested on the top of a man's head^the
head of a man who, apparently, stiU occupied the seat he had
vacated." " His " hands were the Professor's ghost's hands. For
the Professor, who was blue-eyed and brutal, was dead, and was
just finding it out. Subsequently he met a number of persons
whom he had known in the flesh and had not treated over well.
A fantastic idea not too well carried out, but readable as every-
thing of Miss Marryat's is. (Bliss, Sands & Co. 260 pp. Ss. 6d.)

Fighting for Favour.

By W. G. Tarbet.

A kailyard romance of the seventeenth century, written in the first
person. It concerns an attack by English pirates on a Scottish
bark, and the subsequent capture, by the brave men of Anstruther,
of the pirates, " whereof twa [writes the Anstruther minister in
his diary] were hang'd on our pier-end, the rest in St. Andrews ;
with nae hurt at all to any of our folks, wha ever since syne have
been free from English pirates. All praise to God for ever. Amen."
(Arrowsmith. 318 pp. 3s. 6d.)

The Vicar.

Br JoaEPn Hatton,

Mr. Ilatton has ere now found the material for stirring romances
in Italy and Eussia ; here we have a story of English life. In the
opening chapters the vicar's scapegrace son, Tom Hussington, is
revolving desperate measures of raising money with his friend

394

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Apeil 9, 1898.

Jim Eenshaw. In the last chapter Jim is in the hands of
the police, and Tom is saved only by the kindness of a rival in
love. The story is thoroughly interesting, and the character ot
Lady Barwick, the intriguing widow, who bids the maid hide the
Sporting Life and Tipster and spread forth the Guardian, when she
is expecting visitors, is well realised. (Hutchinson & Co. 403 pp. 6s.)

Mistress Beidget. By E. Yollajtb.

" To this day the spirit walks : no one will pass alone between the
box-tree paths of the Eectory garden ; the weathercock turns m the
wind with aU the initials in view, and fragrant apples strongly scent
the dormer chamber, always called ' Madam's Zimmer,' wherein
no doubt to those whose ears are listening to it, the hum of a wheel
can be heard in the stillness of the summer night, and were there
eyes to see— a slender form, and delicate fingers spinning the web
of fate. None of the old family remain." This formula is
worked out in the old way. (F. V. White & Co. 264 pp.)

An EoYPTiAN CoauETTE. By Clive Holland.

Behold the story of Evan Grant, a young scientific journalist and
the most brilliant contributor to the Torch, and Ethel Vallance, who
■ being hypnotised at a siance by Spinoza— not the philosopher, but
a mesmerist — straightway fetched a knife and stuck one of her
suitors in the shoulder ; and the consequence was that Evan Grant
dreamed a dream, and went to Egypt and brought back a hypno-
tised female mummy and a papyrus. The latter was translated,
and the former, in an attempt to de-hypnotise her, fell to dust. A
very unreal piece of sensationalism. (C. Arthur Pearson. 232 pp.
2s. 6d.)

FOK LiBEKTY.

By Home Nisbet.

The author says that these "Chronicles of a Jacobin" are founded
on a collection of autobiographical MSS. relating to Major-General
George Martol, which have long been in his possession. The story
takes us to Paris during the Revolution, and is carried down " to
the downfall of those gore-grimed monsters who crushed Liberty,
and made France the trembling home of Terror." (F. V. White &
Co. 296 pp. 6s.)

Between two Wives.

By William Turvtlle.

This is a very long story, divided into three books. We permit
the reader to divine its contents by such chapter headings as : " The
Motive and the Cue for Passion," "Haw, haw!" "Asperities,"
" Gall and Nettles," "The Garden Party," "Washing Day," "A
Dinner Pill," " 'A- weary of the Sun,'" "Claimed," and " 'After
Me the Deluge.' " Four hundred and fifty-one pages of love and
talk. (Swan Sonnenschein & Co. 451 pp. 6s.)

In the Promised Land.

By Mary Anderson.

The story of Eahab, who dwelt on the city wall of Jericho,
re-written and elaborated. Joshua is introduced as one of the
characters, and the King of Ai as another ; and the destruction
of Aohan and his family is a leading incident. The story concludes
with a suggestion of Eahab's repentance and happier life. (Downey
& Co. 288 pp. 6s.)

A Point of View.

By Caroline Fothergill.

We have here one of those stories which may be said to have
several heroes and heroines ; and their difficulty is to sort themselves
out into married couples. The sorting process entails mistakes and
heart-burnings. A quiet country setting is sufiicient for such a
story, and we have it. For the rest, the characters are carefully
drawn. (Arrowsmith. 312 pp. 3s. 6d.)

A Two-FOLD Sin.

By M. Brazier.

The mansion is " noble " and " castellated " ; and a "young man
about seven-and-twenty " (a stranger) exclaims : " How fair a scene ;
can I ever hope to aspire to such a home, or will it only come
when youth and energy have fled? Ah, well! a truce to sad
thoughts, I will not be disenchanting on this lonely evening,
but let yonder setting sun be the harbinger of bright days to
come." The story that opens like this is ever with us. We admire
its— persistence. (Digby, Long & Co. 188 pp. 28. 6d.)

REVIEWS.

American Wives and Miglish Husbands. By Gertrude Atherton.
(Service & Paton.)

This is a stronger piece of work than His Fortunate Grace : more
ambitious, and achieving more. The somewhat clumsy title strikes
a keynote. This story, like the last, deals with the theory or practice
of Ajiglo- American intermarriage. Mrs. Atherton would protest, one
gathers, against the blunt judgment which lumps all American
wives into a single unflattering category. After all, she points out
to us, there is a world of difference between, say, your raw Western
heiress and the Southern woman of good Califomian family with a
century or two of delicate breeding behind her. The former does
not beseem a coronet ; the latter may meet an English noble with
a pride of race equal to his own. Such a one is Lee Tarlton,
Mrs. Atherton's heroine. Her personality dominates tlie book.
She is woU conceived and thoroughly alive. We rejoice that she h
beautiful, for heroines with lank drab hair and squat figures pall
on the reviewer ; but when to beauty she adds brains, courage, and
a high sense of honour, we feel that Lord Maundrell is a lucky man
He, too, is well drawn, though with a touch of Transatlantic scon
for the impressive "set" Englishman. The plot is not much ; tlu
interest centres in Lee's development as a Califomian girl and an
English bride. Over against her is set her husband's stepmother
also an American, of rank extraction, who brings Lord Barnstaple's
fortune and good name to ruin. He learns at last tliat the expensei
of MaundreU Abbey are being paid out of her lover's purse, and i
strong scene between him and the true-hearted Lee follows :

"He was sitting at his desk writing ; and as he Hfted his hand st he.
abrupt entrance, and laid it on an object beside his papers, she receiTei
no shock of surprise. She went forward and lifted his hand from thi
revolver.

' Must you ? ' she asked.

' Of course I must. Do you think I could live with myself anothe
day V '

' Perhaps no one need ever know.'

' Everybody ui England will know before a week is over. She gav.
me to understand that people guessed it abeady.'

' This seems such a terrible alternative to a woman — but '

' But you have race in you. You understand perfectly. My houou
has been sold, and my pride is dead : there is no place among men fo:
what is left of mo. And to face my son again ! Good God ! '

' Can notbiog be done to keep it from Cecil ? '

' Nothing. It is the only heritage I leave him, and he'll have ti
stand it as best he can. It won't kill him, nor his courage ; he's mad'
of stronger stuff than that. And if I've brought the faimly honour ti
the dust, he has it in him to raise it higher than it has ever been. Neve
let him forget that. You've played your part well all along, hut you'v
a great deal more to do yet. You'll find that Fate didn't steer you inti
this family to play the pretty rdle of countess "

' I am equal to my part.'

' Yes, I think you are. Now, I have an hour's work before me.
can't let you go till I've finished. You are a strong creature — but yo'
are a woman all the same. You must stay here imtil I am ready to le
you go.'"

' I want to stay with you.'

' Thank you. Sit down.'

He handed her a chair, and returned to his writing.

Lord Barnstable laid down his pen and sealed his letters. Hostooc
up and held out his hand.

' Good-bye,' he said.

They shook hands closely and in silence. Then she went out sna b
closed the door behind her. She stood still, waiting for the sigaw
She could not carry the news of his death to his son until he was gon
beyond the shadow of a doubt. It was so long coming that sh
wondered if his courage had failed him, or if he were praying before tn
picture of his wife. It came at last."

Lord Barnstable dies, but the atmosphere remains electric. W
somehow expect that Lord Maundrell will follow in his father
footsteps, and that Lee will fall into the hands of a "magerful^
compatriot who has encompassed her with vows since childhood
And then — there is no ending : Lee seeks her husband's study i
trepidation ; " Cecil was writing quietly."

Aprii. 9, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

395

A Voyage of Consolation. By Sara Jeannette Duncan.
(Methuen & Co.)

?His is an amusing story, with a love motive strong enough to set
t going and finish it off. The heroine, Mamie Wicks, writes in
he first person, and we are at once made acquainted with the fact
nd the manner of her broken engagement with Mr. Artliur
rreenleaf Page, of Yale College. Mamie has been to England
nd has returned to Chicago with an English accent and a new
iew of the American twang. Mr. Page, to whom attachment to
le American accent is tlie alplia of patriotism, is so shocked that
le engagement is broken ; an<l Mamie instantly arranges a trip to
lurope with hei parents by telephone. It is with the travel
Iventures of these three that the book is concerned. Poj)pa, who

a Senator, is consistently dry and amusing ; Momma cautious and
bsurd ; and Mamie holds the pen.

In Rome Mamie is approached with a proposal of marriage by a
rely but nearly destitute Italian Count, to whom Poppa had in-
.utiously talked about his soda business in the train from Genoa.
ere is Mamie's story of the Count's offer :

" ' If I must speak of myself, behave me it is not a nobody, the Count
Igiatti,' ho went on at last. ' Two Cardinals I have had in my family
id one is second cousin to the Pope.'

Fancy the Pope's having relations ! ' I said ; ' but I suppose there is
ithing to prevent it.'

'Nothing at all. In my family I have had many ambassadors, but
jat was a httle formerly. Once a Filgiatti married with a Medici — but
iese things are better for Mistra and Madame Wick to inquire.'
!' Poppa is very much interested in antiqiuties, but I'm afraid there will
Irdly be time, Count Filgiatti.'

' Listen, I will say all ! Always they have been much too large, the
i nilies FUgiatti. So now perhaps we are a little reduce. But there is
1 11 somethings — ah, signorina, can you pardon that I speak these
lings, but the time is so small — there is fifteen hundred lire yearly
i/ouue to my pocket.'
' About three hundred dollars,' I observed sympathetically. Count

giatti nodded with the smile of a conscious capitalist. ' Then, of

irse,' I said, ' you won't marry for money.' I'm afraid this was
8 little unkind, but I was quite sure the Count woidd perceive no irony,
t d said it for my own amusement.

Jamais ! In Italy you will find that never ! The ItaUan gives always

I heart before — before '

The arraugimento,' I suggested softly.

Indeed, yes. There is also the seat of the family.'

The seat of the family,' I repeated. ' Oh— the family seat. Of
ciurse, being a Count, you have a castle. They always go together. I
1^1 forgotten.'

A castle I cannot say, but for the country it is very well. It is not

using there, in Tuscany. It is a httle out of repairs. Twice a year I

to see my mother and all those brothers and sisters — it is enough !

d the Countess, my mother, has said to me' two hundred times, ' ' Mairy

h an Americaine, Nicco, it is my command." " Nicco," she calls me —
Jits what you call jackname.'

'he Count smiled deprecatingly, and looked at me with a great deal
oisentiment, twisting his moustache. Another pause ensued. It's all
vJy well to say I should have dismissed him long before this, but I
sljuld like to know on what grounds ?

I wish very much to write my mother that I have found the American
la|^ for a new Comitoss Filgiatti,' he said at last with emotion.

iWell,' 1 said awkwardly,-' I hope you will find her.'

Ah, Mees Wick,' exclaimed the Count recklessly, ' you are that
A|t'rican lady. When I saw you in the railway I said, "It is my
vibn ! " At once I desired to embrace the papa. And he was not cold
wji me — ho told me of the soda. I had courage, I had hope. At first
wjn I see you to-day I am a httle derange. In the Italian way I
BjHk iirst with the papa. Then came a little thought in my heart —
ncit is propitious ! In America the daughter maka always her own

ugimento. So I am spoken.'
this I rose immediately. I would not have it on my conscience
I toyed with the matrimonial i)roposition of even an Itolian Count.
I mentioned the matter to my parents, thinking it might amuse
thja, and it did. From a business point of view, however, papa could
nojhelp feeling a certain amount of sympathy for the Count.

[ hope, daughter,' ho said, ' you didn't give him the ha-ha to his

|he author's aim is to be amusing ; and in this she succeeds.
HJ keen observation is turned quite as much on the American
toijist as on European sights and customs ; and the result is a very
olebr novel of travel.

2he Scourge- Stick. By Mrs. Campbell Praed.
(William Heinemann.)

Mks. Campbell Praed has struck out in this volume into a vein
new to her, and fortunately for her readers she has produced a
story of much more than her usual significance and power. One
cannot but shrink occasionally from the excessive morbidness of the
book. It deals with a girl of sensitive and introspective tempera-
ment who, failing as an actress, hastily accepts an offer of marriage
from a wealthy admirer. Hector Vassal, whose cold and ruthless
character the author, with a motif-YikQ persistence, likens to the type
of the Roman Emperors, "Agatha Greste, who had odd fancies,
used to say that he was a reincarnation of the Roman period." Of
course they are unhappy— their tastes conflict in every interest,
their ideas in every aspect of life. And one day the inevitable
happens. The story is not to be told apart from the context ; but it
may be said that the final development of the plot is a very clever
and ingenious display of mechanism The psychology and soul-stir-
rings of The Scourge- Stick are not its strongest point. The writing
is too much in gasps. Dots and dashes take the place which,
under the old dispensation of feminine literature, would have been
filled by italics. Open the book at random, and your eye lights on
a paragraph like this :

" Anything — any thing butthat. I should feelit was the offence against
the Holy Ghost. ... I know that I have sinned against you and
against the law, in breaking my marriage oath. ... I know it now.
. . . But there's just this excuse for me. ... I did love, with
my whole heart and soul. ... I made a religion of my love. . . .
I can't dishonour it."

This method gives emphasis at the expense of disjointedness ;
and when it is pointed out that nearly the whole book, certainly all
the heroine's part of it, is conducted on this system of spasms and
jerks, it will be clear that restraint is the one consummate quality
which is absent from it. Nor is Mrs. Campbell Praed above a
certain preference for the needlessly unpleasant, not from the moral,
but from the artistic point of view. The closing scenes of the life
of Mr. Vassal, the worn-out debauchee clinging with frantic
eagerness to the dregs of vitality, ordering his wife, when no
longer able to stir himself, to road indecent French novels to him,
throwing off his life-time's mask of respectability more and more
as his senses dull, may not be untrue, but are tliey art ? Was not
this one little picture of the dying man enough without over-
elaborating it ?

" Only Bunchy, attracted by the litter of flowers, peeped furtively in
at the outer vestibule and, catching sight of the dread-inspiring figure in
tlie chair, ran swiftly away. Somehow, Mr. Vassal, as he sat there with
his fierce eyes gleaming from over his book or paper at any sound that
caught his attention, made one think of one of those old, bloated, un-
cannily marked spiders one sees lying in wait for imsuspooting flies.
His Umbs had a shrunken look owing to his huddled position in the
great chair ; and his head seemed to have grown larger, while his face
was yellow and more deeply lined and broader about the jaws, giving
the effect of a faint leer."

Mrs. Campbell Praed uses a larger canvas and a freer brush in
The Scourge- Stick than she has done before, but she should tone
down the crudeness of her colo\irs. There is too much red and
yellow about the story of Esther Vrintz.

THE CONFESSION OF A DISAPPOINTED AUTHOR.

A REMARKABLE " human document " is printed in the current iV«w
Century Review above the signature of "Julian Croskey " — a name
not unfamiliar in connexion with the "Pseudonym Library,"
whore it appeared on the title-page of a story entitled The Shea's
Pigtail. The writer bids a disgusted farewell to literature ; and his
article claims to be an absolutely frank statement of how lie has fared
in authorsliip. The value, though not the interest, of his articlo »«
somewhat discounted by the fact that he has used literature merely
as a stepping-stone. " Julian Croskey " has spent some years in
China. Ho held a position in the Chinese Customs, but becoming
discontented made a wild attempt to get up a rebellion, was arrested,

396

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[April 9, 1898.

and being handed over to the British Government was then under the
Foreign Enlistment Act sent to prison. In prison he revolved
a quixotic scheme of raising a body of gentlemen-adventurers in
English society to exploit China. The first thing was to get into
society. While therefore keeping up liis knowledge of Chinese,
studying military tactics, and keeping in touch with his native con-
federates, " JuUan Croskey," embarked on a two-years attempt to
win fame as an author. His hardships seem to have been many
and severe ; but, again, it is necessary to point out that they have
not been of the kind which are inseparable from literary aspirations.
After the first three months— during which period he wrote twenty-
six magazine articles and two books—" Julian Croskey " went mto
tlie London Hospital, having broken down from "starvation, fever,
and isolation." Tlience emerging, he borrowed fifty pounds.
"On this fifty pounds," he writes:

'•I took a small room near Hampstead Heath for four shillings and
sixpence a week, living on tinned meat and opium. I was here for
a year, and, although full of creativeness, wasted the year in what I
thought the more important duty, the composition of my bible and
military scheme of conquest. I joined the Volunteers as a private, and
made an exhaustive study of tactics and armament by the book. I was
already beginning to feel the pleasure of writing fiction, and suppressed
my eagerness in order to finish my technical work with a constant effort.
My invention was so abundant that I thought it would easily stand the
postponement of a year. Fatal postponement !

I now began to send out my slum work, and, for the first time, to
court the agonies of refusal. On the whole, I was successful for a
beginner, although I thought I was a terrible failure. I placed three or
four articles with Temple Bar, two tales, and The Shea's Pigtail in Mr.
Fisher Unwin's Pseudonym Library. My agreement with Mr. Unwin
specified two or three other books which I was to supply, so that if I had
taken to literature then I should at once have been launched. I, how-
ever, neglected my part of the agreement, and let my opportunity slide.
During that year I made fifty pounds out of my first three months'
work. Messrs. Bentley have still a typed MS. of mine, consisting of
articles on China, which may or may not have appeared. I have changed
my address often, and do not read magazines. I had intended add-
ing to my labours by illustrating my own tales. The first half of The
Shen^a Pigtail went to the Strand Magiaiue, with several illustrations, at
least correct in local colour, and came back after two or three months
without them. I gave up sending illustrations.

During the year '93, then, I wrote little for pubHcation. I certainly
sent out my military book. The Army of the Naturals, a sort of Spartan
Utopia, to several military publishers, who admired it, but said it would
not pay ; Messrs. Kegan Paul also offered to accept it if I would bear
part of the cost. I consequently withdrew it, feeling that it would
be time enough to publish it when I had made my entrie into society by
fiction. This was on a par with the rest of my folly, for the book is now
useless, as my heart is no longer in its tenets. I wrote also during this
year my Recollections of a Prisoner, and it was accepted by Messrs. Chap-
man & Hall on the condition that I should tone down the style. In my
youthful conceit I did not like the reader's honest brutality, and let
that opportunity also go by. I have found since that he was right, and
the style was abominable. I found such good stuff in the book that I
thought it worth re-writing; and now I know that the MS. is doomed,
for I never finish a revision. That, then, was the third labour wasted ;

my biography {The Strange Affair of Mr. M in China), my Utopia

{The Army of the Naturals), and my prison recollections {Tti Oaol).
These MSS. are now in an inchoate state, and useless for publication.
After ten or twenty years I might possibly be equal to reviving them,
for want of better copy.

However, I was prepared to make good use of my third year ('94), the
year in which The Shen'a Pigtail appeared, when a catastrophe happened.
I accepted a clerkship. My people insisted on my earning a reasonable
living, and I weakly consented, because they had been at great pains to
find me a place. It was against all my better judgment. I had enough
still to Uve on with great economy, and brains ready and willing to do
good work. My office was in Pall Mall, and I moved my ' diggings '
to Bloomsbury. I endeavoured to make my first attempt at fiction
by working after office hours. It was the book I had had in my
mind during the previous year of technical work, and foreshadowed, in
the form of piratical novel, my schemes for the subversion of the world
— an appendix to the ' gospel ' for the guidance of ' my gentlemen-
adventurers ' still to be sought. In spite of its purpose there was some
astonishing Uterary work in the book (a safe boast, for it will never
appear now). I sent the first part to Mr. Unwin, who said it appeared
to him too realistic for a ' boy's book.' My absurd folly took offence at
Ih? expression ' boy's book,' and I never sent Mr. Unwin the remainder,
wh'ch he wished to read. When the book was finished I had lost self-
confidence, and was afraid it was far too audacious. The next year

several books appeared on the same lines, and met with great success
The (Jrcat War of '97, for instance. My book accurately anticipated tbi
China-Japan War and the invasion of Corca, but when the war came
felt that I had lost my opportunity of being a prophet. I was also to
timid to issue, as history, the imaginary success of an English adventur<
in China ; it seemed like libel. There was some local colour in it, whif
I presume, is seldom likely to be repeated, because I am the oui
novelist who has belonged to the Kolao Revolutionary Society and h(;l
council with Chinese rebels. However, it is all dead now; it seems U.
banal to me who am familiar ^vith it. I have, too, unfortunately o
the book up beyond repair for use in magazine stories aud short book
Fourth labour, and second year wasted I

Feeling that my work was spoilt by the office, and clinging still to tl
faith in my ability to conquer a profession which I used contemptuous
as a jumping-off place, I gave up my clerkship at the end of the yea
determined to face poverty and work again. It was a good resolntio
and might still have borne fruit. During the first few months of '%
wrote Max, a tremendous biographical work of the length and form
Pendennis, narrating my adventures from early youth. It was over 200,ili
words long. In this I again incorporated my China experiences, but wi
the conviction that it was the last time I could touch that siokenii
record. Resolved to begin at the bottom, in order to get it accepted
once, I sent it to the Tower Company, whose reader suggested that
should bo out in half, and accepted the half. I made the necessary alter
tions, relegating my China experiences ultimately to the wastc-paji
box, and by the time I had done it the Tower Company wound up i
affairs. A domestic interruption then occurred which quite split up u
tranquillity for some months. I again boiTO wed money, aud took a hot
by myself, believing that I was going to be married. . . .

From this time, the spring of '95 onward, I have drifted from my am'
tions and knocked myself to pieces. During the year I was unable topis
anything, and despaired of literature. ... I went round in a contim
circle of desperate plans, impotence, refuge in creative work, and revivi
ambition again. ... In the intervals of literary impulse I wrote Mtn
and The Chest of Opium, which appeared that autumn ('9G) ; but tb
were mere pot-boilers, and I had no heart in the works beyond pecunis
need. I also placed Max with Mr. John Lane. In this way I earn
£70 during 1896. I also wrote a novel called Clon for Mr. Laue, in t
months, and it proved to be too ' thick.' I wrote also the first of
series of detective stories, called ' Craft and the Criminal,' for a ii .
magazine, and the magazine never api)eared. Aud I placed two ta
with the English Illustrated, neglecting again a lucrative opening foi
series. My opportunities were excellent for a professional scribbler, t
I would not make it my profession

If I over resume the pen it will be my third start in the one professii
which is unusual. I began with The Shen's Pigtail, under the pst

donym of ' Mr. M .' I used this name from '93 to 'W>, with t

exception of two magazine tales under the name of C. W. Mason, th
China articles by M. Jones, two ' threepenny dreadful ' pot-boilers
M. Cricklowood, and two tales which I gave to other young autlio
Being tired of these pseudonyms I made a fresh debut in '97 under t
name of ' Julian Croskey,' with a long novel Max, and forthcoming
issue of Merlin. Now, with this record of failure, and the possi!
pubhcation of one or two MSS. which are out, I have forgotten where
drop the name of ' Jidian Croskey.' I believe I have five tales accep'
somewhere which are yet to appear, but I have burnt my records a
cannot recall them. I have asked one editor if he would p»y me
advance, but have had no reply. I have absolutely wasted six years.
have wasted, indeed, the first thirty years of my Ufe.

And now, vale. I am afraid my promisp of writing a true chapter
humanity has miscarried. I have done ilotliing but advertise my in"
inedits. There is, nevertheless, one moral to my tale, and that is th
if you woidd succeed as an author, be one and nothing else. If you (
beg, borrow, or steal as much as £50 a year, cut yourself off from eve:
thing and write. . . ."

We hope that 'Julian Croskey,' having disburdened liis mii
will see his career in a more favourable light. We do not bom
that his last six years have been so "wasted" as ho imagin'
and we should say that his chance of doing creditably in hterati
is a respectable one. And, as if to confirm our view, we notice ti
Mr. Lano advertises this week that Mr. ' Croskey's ' Max is m
second edition.

Arnn, », 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

S97

8ATURJJAY, APRIL 9, 1898.

No. i3S3, New Series.

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NOTES AND NEWS.

Cauuon his name,

Cannon his voice, he came.'

two of the eight
of Mr. Meredith's

rHESE are the first
hundred odd lines
econd contribution of Najjoleonic verse to
'osmopolis. Some might say, bori-owing from
lie Douglas JeiTold mint, that these are the
nly understandable lines, but that would
e unjust, as there are many illuminative
assages in the whirl of imagery and gym-
astic thought that go to the making
this feat in verse. We can place
ur hand upon our heart and say we
ave read it through from "Cannon his
ame " to "Hull down, with mast against
he Western hues," and, if we say that it is
ur intention never to renew the escalade, it
i because this is not the kind of poetry we
oad for pleasure. At the same time, we
ffer our humble tribute of admiration to the
plendid vigour of a mind that could con-
eive and bring forth such a giant exercise
a the art of ode-making.

his

In the passage that follows it was " the
hydrocephalic aerolite " that pleaded for
quotation :

" Now had the Seaman's volvent sprite,
Lean from the chase that barked

contraband,
A beggared applicant at every port,
To strew the profitless deeps and rot

beneath.
Slung northward, for a hunted beast's

retort
Ou sovereign power ; there his final stand.
Among the perjured Scythian's shaggy horde,
The hydrocephalic aerolite
Had taken ; flashing thence repellent teeth.
Though Europe's Master Europe's Rebel

banned
To be earth's outcast, ocean's lord and

sport."

As a matter of fact, if Ballantyne were to
come into the question at all it would be as
master, with E. L. S. for pupU. Most boys
of the last generation date their first desire
to write stories from reading Ballantyne ;
and Stevenson, in some charming verses,
was glad to call that worthy writer " Ballan-
tyne the brave."

Here, finally, is a characteristic Mere-
dithian passage :

" He would not fall, while falling; would not

be taught,
While learning ; would not relax his grasp

on aught
He held in hand, while losing it; pressed

advance,
Pricked for her lees the veins of wasted

Prance ;
Who, had he stayed to husband her, had

spun
The strength he taxed unripened for his

throw,
In repercussent casts calamitous,
On fields where palsying Pyrrhic laurels

grow,
The luminous the ruinous.
An incalescent scorpion.
And fierier for the mounded cirque
That narrowed at him thick and murk,
This gambler with his genius
Flung lives in angry volleys, bloody light-
nings, flung
His fortunes to the hosts he stung,
With victories clipped his eagle's wings.'

Yet one more quotation : one line in the Ode
which aptly describes the effect upon the
ordinary reader after grappling with the 800
lines :
" The innumerable whelmed him, and he fell."

Our first stumble occurred on the second
age :

That Soliforiu made featureless beside
His brilliancy who neighboured : vapour they ;
Vapour what postured statutes barred his
tread."

et against that the vivid imagery of these
jvo lines :

Kiud to her ear as quiring Cherubim,

And trampling earth like scornful mastodons."

nd these :

Like foam-heads of a loosened freshet burst-
ing banks,

By mount and fort they thread to swamp
the sluggard plains."

Apropos of a second edition of the Ode,
we notice, by the way, that a flippant
critic commenting upon the phrase "inca-
lescent scorpion " suggests that some editor
of the future, more intent upon fact than
imagination, will probably alter it to " incan-
descent Corsican."

Mr. Stephen Gwynn, we observe, who
writes in the Fortnightly of Stevenson's
posthumous works, is disposed to think little
of the Fables. " They are, " he says, ' ' interest-
ing reading, but people who like a meaning
made quite plain will not take kindly to
the more elaborate among them, and, upon
the whole, they must be reckoned among his
failures." " Posterity," says Mr. Gwynn
farther on, "will probably regi-et the time
spent upon these things, if it thinks that it
might have had in exchange a few more
chapters, let us say, of Heathereat." It is,
of course, a matter of temperament. Mr.
Gwynn finds fault with Mr. Gosse and Mr.
Strachey for preferring Stevenson's essays to
his stories ; and we are tempted equally to
object to Mr. Gwynn' s depreciation of
such exquisite work as "The Poor Thing"
and " The House of Eld." But it is not
worth while — these are matters to be settled
for oneself. Mr. Gwynn's article, we might
add, is extremely interesting and well knit.

It was almost a relief to come back to
earth and Mr. Andrew Lang on p. 69
of the same issue of Cosmopolis — to such a
morsel of natural happy-go-lucky criticism
as this: "One would be glad to lie on a
sofa, like Gray, and read dozens of novels
by Miss Coleridge, if they were all as good
as The King irith Two Faces." Half way down
the same page we found something which,
as Archdeacon Farrar said of Mr. Hall
Caine's Christian, "made us tliink." There
Mr. Lang is allowed by the editor and the
printer's reader of Cosmopolis to speak of
The Master of Balantyne. If such a misprint
is possible in "Notes on New Books,"
then misprints are also possible in Mr.
Meredith's "Napoleon." Can it be that

? We await a second edition of the

Odo with anxiety,

By the way, Mr. Crossland, who wrote the
two amusing'fableswhich were quoted in these
columns last week, is a little disturbed that
we suggested Mr. Stevenson as his inspira-
tion, since he began to play with this form
of literature some time Ijefore Longman^s
gave R. L. S.'s experiments to the world.
As his ambitions, he assures us, " do not run
to ' sedulous ' or other ' apishness,' imitation
is a bit severe. A fabulist might put the
matter as follows :

An injudicious bird fluttered unwittingly
into a garden where there was a nightingale.
And, as had been his wont in other situa-
tions, he endeavoured to chirp his best and
chastest.

And the rose, hearing soimds, was minded
of the nightingale, and said, ' Ah ! an
imitation — an experiment, good ! '

And that injudicious bird, though flattered
and obliged, somehow wished he hadn't
come."

The Elizabethan Stage Society's repre-
sentation of Middleton's Spanish Gipsy, on
Tuesday night, was prefaced by the delivery
of a resonant prologue, written for the
occasion by Mr. Swinburne. The poet's
mouthpiece was Mr. Gosse. He came on the
stage accompanied by a blue-coat boy, who
carried a lantern. Mr. Gosse wore the cos-
tume of to-day, but the blue-coat dates, of
course, from Edward the Sixth, and was no
anachronism. The boy held the lantern so
that the light shone upon the paper, and
Mr. Gosse then read the poem, which we
print in full :

" The wind that brings us from the springtide
south
Strange music as frim love's cr life's own
mouth

398

THE ACADEMY.

fApEiL 9, 1898.

Blew hither, when the blast of battle ceased
That swept back southward Spanish prince

and priest,
A sound more sweet than April's flower-sweet

And bade bright England smile on pardoned

Spain. ,,./-, J

The land that cast out Philip and his (jod
Grew gladly subject where Cervantes trod.
Even he whose name above all names on earth
Crowns England queen by grace of Shake-
speare's birth .
Might scarce have scorned to smile in Ood s

wise down
And gild with praise from heaven anearthlier

crown.
And he whose hand bade live down lengthen-
ing years
Quixote, a name lit up with smiles and tears.
Gave the glad watchword of the gipsies' life,
Where fear took hope and grief took joy to

wife.
Times change, and fame is fitful as the sea:
But sunset bids not darkness always be,
And still some light from Shakespeare and

the sun
Burns backthecloud that masksnotMiddleton.

With strong, swift strokes of love and wrath

he drew
Shakespearean London's loud and lusty crew :
No plainer might the likeness rise and stand
When Hogarth took his living world in hand.
No surer than his fire-fledged shafts could hit.
Winged with as forceful and as faithful wit :
No truer a tragic depth and heat of heart
Glowed through the painter's than the poet's

art.
He lit and hung in heaven the wan fierce moon
Whose glance kept time with witchcraft's

air-struck tune :
He watched the doors where loveless love let in
The pageant hailed and crowned by death

and sin :
Ho bared the souls where love, twin -bom

with hate,
Made wide the way for passion-fostered fate.
AU English-hearted, all his heart arose
To scourge with scorn his England's cowering

foes:
And Rome and Spain, who bade their scomer

be
Their prisoner, left his heart as England's free.
Now give we all we may of all his due
To one long since thus tried and found thus

true."

Two American books about to be pub-
lished are A Confident To-Morroiv, by Prof.
Brander Matthews, and Cheerful Yesterdays,
by Colonel Higginson. The similarity of
the titles is not accidental. Each has its
origin in a phrase which one of the authors
used in conversation. He described himself
as " a man of cheerful yesterdays and con-
fident to-morrows." This origin is interest-
ing ; but it would be appalling if every
happy phrase used by an author produced
a brace of books.

It is therefore almost a relief to learn that
the American Mrs. Grundy does not like
Quo Vadis. Her belated objections to the
book occupy nearly two columns of the New
York Times, where they appear in the form
of a letter signed J. W. H. Here Sienkie-
wicz's novel is declared to be only an exalted
form of the yellow-backed species. We
read:

" It is safe to say that this bouk of Sienkie-
wicz's has been read the past year or two more
extensively than any other paper issued from
the press and chiefly by the young. That it
should not have called forth stronger protests
from the purist and moralist indicates a blunted
sensibility as to the fitness of things on the part
of those interested in the education of the mind
that seems to the writer both amazing and
deplorable. Other books are tabooed by those
discriminating in their reading, and yet it could
easily be shown that the de»criptious of the life
in Nero's palace by the author of Qiu> Vadis are
far more sensuous and revolting than any other
volume shut from our homes ; indeed, it is not
too much to say that Quo Vadis is but the
advanced type of the yellow novel, and by
reason of its literary excellence is finding a
wider and higher circle of readers."

Mb. Eichard Harding Davis begins in
the April Scribner's a new serial story
entitled The King's Jackal. The first instal-
ment is somewhat niggardly in bulk, but
there is enough to tell that the readers of
the magazine have good entertainment
in store. The deposed King of Messina,
incognito in Tangier; the Baron Barrat,
diplomatist ; Prince Kalonay ; Colonel
Erhaupt ; the Countess Zara, a spy ; Father
Paul, an adamantine priest ; Miss Carson,
an American heiress — these are some of
the characters; and over aU is the electric
air of impending struggle for the re-estab-
lishment of the King on his throne. But
does Mr. Davis seriously spell necklace
" neckless" ?

AccoBinxG to the American Bookman the
best selling books in America are at present
the following :

1. Quo Vadis.

2. Shreivsbury.

3. llugh Wynne.

4. Tlte Choir Invisible.

6. The Story of an Untold Love.
6. Simon Dale.

The popularity of Qtio Vadis has become
wearisome.

Mr. Eidek Haggard's King Solomon's
Mines receives the honour of a sixpenny
edition this week, and it will probably find
many new readers, although the lines are
longer than they ought to be for comfort in
reading : fuU four and a-half inches of
closely - printed type. Since its first ap-
pearance, thirteen years ago, more than one
new generation of schoolboys has sprung
up. Mr. Haggard prefixes the following
note to the cheap reprint : " The author
ventures to take this opportunity to thank
his readers in all parts of the world for the
kind reception that they have accorded to
the successive editions of this tale during
the last thirteen years. He hopes that in
its present form it wiU fall into the hands
of an even wider public, and that, in years
to come it may continue to afford amuse-
ment to those who are stiU young enough at
heart to love a story of treasure, war, and
wUd adventure."

Meanwhile, in Hungary, a ballet has
appeared based upon Mr. Haggard's She,
concerning which the Bookman teUs a good
story. Mr. Haggard, it seems, hearing of the
production, wrote asking for some programmes
and photographs, and received a reply from
the manager of the theatre that he was

much shocked at the receipt of this letter,
for he for months had believed that Mr
Haggard was dead. Long obituary notices
he continued, had appeared in some of tlii
most important papers. Mr. Haggarc
wrote again that if the obituary notices wen
in any more translatable language thai
Magyar he would be glad to see a few o
them, and at the same time he begged tha-
a paragraph might be circulated amongs
the newspapers to the effect that he wa;
alive. The last news is that the manage;
reports that no newspaper will insert th(
paragraphs, that they decline to credit hii
statement, and look upon his request as i
clever but somewhat unscrupulous attemp
to obtain fine advertisements for the ballet.

Mr. Edgar Fawcett, the American writer
who is making a long stay in this country
says something of what ho calls "Precious
ness " in a recent letter to Collier's WeeUtj
and during his remarks teUs the following
story of the Brownings :

" They were living in ' Casa Guidi,' a
Florence— that big, ugly, yellow house, whicl
stares at the feudal gravity of the Pitti Palact
through rows of high, square, green-shutteref
vrindows, and which has been lugged into si
many Browning biographies with an idealising
indulgence quite disproportionate to its archi
tectural deserts. A guest, at one of thei
' evenings,' chanced to find in some bookshelf
or on some table, a volume of Gray. Dipping
into the Elegy, he became absorbed (half
memorially, perhaps) by its mesmeric beauties
Presently Robert Browning tapped him on thi
shoulder. ' Oh, are you reading that thing ?
he asked. 'We've quite outgrown it here.
. . . Yes, indeed ; he was wholly right
'they' had quite outgrown it. If 'they
hadn't, all that sickly affectation which marki
so much of Mrs. Browning's verse would havi
ceased to appear there, and from her husbanc
such horrors of tedium as Red Cotton Night-Ca]
Country and Ferishtah't Fancies would nevei
have sprung."

We should like to have authority for Mr
Fawcett's story. As it stands it reveals 8
facet of Eobert Browning too new for im-
mediate acceptance.

In a brief critical note, interesting in in
verse ratio to its bulk, Mr. Henry James, ii
the Fortnightly, pays a tribute of praise tc
the narrative gifts of his friend Mr. Har-
land, with special insistence upon his cos-
mopolitan character, his citizenship of th(
world, the absence in his work of any "cleai
sound of the fimdamental, the native note.
Instead, Mr. James finds therein an "in-
tensity of that mark of the imagination that
may best be described as the acute sense ol
the 'Europe' — synthetic symbol!— of the
American mind," and the discovery has led
him to certain subtle reflections :

" It is a very wonderful thing [he says], thif
Europe of the American iu general and of m
author of Comedies and Errors in portioular-
in particular, I say, because Mr. Harland tends,
in a degree quite his own, to give it tnc
romantic and tender voice, the voice of fancy
pure and simple, without the disturbance oi
other elements, such as comparison aud reaction,
either violent or merciful. He is not ev^
' intemaUonal,' which is, after all, but another
way, perhaps, of being a slave to the coim-
tries,' possibly twice or even three tunes

April 9, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

399

ngo. It is a complete surrender of that
rovince of the mind with which registration
id subscription have to do. Thus is pre-
•nted a disencumbered, sensitive surface for
le wonderful Europe to play on."

It is pleasant, and reminiscent of old
ines, to find Mr. Bret Harte continuing in
le Century the story of " Her Letter " and
His Answer to Her Letter." In this
lird instalment — " Her Last Letter" — that
therto incomplete romance is finished sym-
etrically ; but we have had to wait a very
ng time for the curtain. To say what
ppened would not be fair ; but a stanza or
ro, to show that Mr. Bret Harte as poet is
ill what he was, may not be out of place,
he "Lily" is telling of the changes that
ive come in the old township :

There's the rustle of silk on the sidewalk ;

Just now there passed by a tall hat ;
But there's gloom in this ' boom ' and this
wild talk

Of the ' future ' of Poverty Flat.
There's adoLOrous chill in the air, Joe,

Where once we were simple and free ;
And I hear they've been making a mayor, Joe,

Of the man who shot Sandy McGee.

But there's still the ' lap, lap ' of the river ;

There's the song of the pines, deep and low.
(How my longing for them made me quiver

In the park that they call Fontainebleau !)
There's the snow-peak that looked on our
dances,

And blushed when the morning said, ' Go ! '
There's a lot that remains which one fancies —

But somehow there's never a Joe ! "

tore coming to the new poem, it would be
' jU to refer back to the two pieces that so
1 ag ago preceded it.

An extraordinary " feast of language " is

(read before us by the S.P.C.K. in the

(ape of readers and prayer-books, Com-

1 mion services and hymn-books, in Swahili,

liiama, Xosa, and Chino. The Swahili

1 iders deal with the history, not of

]igland, but of Eome, according to Dr.

(eighton. We imagine that, learned as

1 is, the Bishop of London would be not a

Itle dismayed were he confronted with the

ilowing sentence and told that he wrote

" Mji huu mpya uUkwitwa Eumi, na

a sababu uliwekwa kando ya mto

cubwa wa upande ulo wa Italia, ulikuwa

irra wenye nguvu kwa biashara na tena

a kawazuia Waturuski." Which means,

course, "This colony was called Rome,

a il as it was founded upon the great river of

it part of Italy, it soon became of im-

1 rtance for trade as well as for keeping off

) Etruscans."

[Iere, also in Swahili, is the first stanza
ojthe old carol, "The First No well " :

Mbele Kheri 'kapelekwa

Kwa Walisha-k'ondoo ni malaika :

Wahkilinda kuudi lao

Nao usiku uzizimao.

' Zaidi Kheri ! Zaidi Kheri !

Mauliidu malik Isiraeli.' "

Che writer of tlie humorous items in
'ssrs. Hatchards' Books of To-day and
iks of To-morrow continues his " Child's
ide to Literature " in tlie vein of refresh-
impudence he has already adopted.

This month we have the following catechism
on Ibsen :

"Q. What is Ibsen?

A. Ah, there you have me.

Q. Do you mean that you don't know ?

A. Well, opinions differ. Some say he isn't
a person at all, but just a thing. Every now
and then all kinds of little bits from police
reports, and accoimts of lunatics, and divorce
cases, in the Norwegian papers, are gathered
together, and they call it Ibsen. Just as we
call chopped meat Mince.

Q. I call it beastly. Yes, and the others P

A . Others say Ibsen is Mr. Archer.

Q, Not ' W. A.' ?

A. Yes, there is a theory that Mr. Archer,
when he is tired of criticising other people's,
writes plays himself imder the name of Ibsen.

Q. Then what is the meaning of all this talk
about Ibsen's seventieth bu-thday ?

A. O, that's blague.

Q. But England sent him a fifty-pound
present ?

A. Yes, it went to a man named Ibsen
whom Mr. Archer employs to act the part — a
dummy.

Q, But why doesn't Mr. Archer confess to it?

A. Because he's afraid of Clement Scott.

Q. Aud how about Mr. Gosse ? He says he
discovered Ibspu.

A. Ah, that's the joke. Mr. Gosse thought
he discovered Ibsen : really it was only the
dummy."

In a review last week of Mr. Arthur
Waugh's Legends of tlie Wheel we ventured
upon a remark which has impelled Mr.
Waugh to the following remonstrance :

" Considering— How Little ? "

[" Considering how little the cycle does for
literature or human nature." — The Academy,
April 'i, 1898.]

" Green memories of breezy moadowland,
Crowned by torn wreaths of sea.
White apple-blossom blown above the sand

In fields of faery. ■
Brave lessons of the white road's brother-
hood—
The hourly give-and-take ;
The hardship shared, the well-divided good,

For Sport's insurgent sake.
Still whispers, in the twilight and the shade,

Of heroisms divine —
Where Arthiur fought, where Merlin's self is
laid —
By good St. Alban's shrine.

Eemembering these -and who that knows
forsakes ? —
One vague, unlettered creature
Hails in the ' wheel ' the spirit that re-
awakes
His tired human nature." '

In the current Chap-Booh there is a
summing up of the achievements of Mr.
Eobert W. Chambers, the author of The
King in Yellow, A King and a Few Dukes,
and other stories which have fluttered critical
dovecotes by their strangeness and extrava-
gance. Mr. Chambers has fulfilled at least
one condition of being interesting in his
books : he has lived an interesting life him-
self. In his greener youth ho studied art at
Julien's and other Paris studios. He ex-
hibited at tho Salon nine years ago.
But Parisian life attracted more than
his artist's eye. He hob - nobbed with
anarchists at the Chateau Rouge, where
Louise Michel held her court. He studied

the French military organisation, and had
the history of the Commune at his finger-
ends ; while " time to be spared from the
cafes, the studios, and the shrines of Paris,
and from the barracks and drill ground,
Mr. Chambers spent in the woods, whip-
ping every available trout stream and chasing
moths and butterflies with scientific ardour."

Tnus equipped, Mr. Chambers wrote his
book, The King in Yellow. This was a
volume of grotesque stories, written in the
most Lutetian fantastic manner, and pub-
lished in Chicago. The Red Republic, a
romance of the Commune, followed. Then
Mr. Chambers wrote a fantasy about Chinese
sorcerers who make gold on the Canadian
prairies — The Maker of Moons. This was
succeeded in the spring of last year by
A King and a Few Dukes ; and last autumn
by T/w Mystery of Choice, a volume of short
stories, and Lorraine, a story of the Franco-
German war. The Chap-Book writer says
of Mr. Chambers's treatment of war : " Late
studies of campaigning have made much of
the problem of individual courage or
cowardice, of the psychology of a trembling
recruit. For Mr. Chambers the great sweep,
the overwhelming magnitude of the thing,
is what has been worthy his attention. It
is a view of war as true aa the other, and
yet more romantic."

The renewed interest in the family of
Shore, aroused by the recent pubKcation of
Poems by A. and J., is responsible for the
new edition of The Journal of Emily Sliore,
which Messrs. Kegan, Paul & Co. announce.
It will contain a series of reproductions of
pencil drawings by Emily Shore, mostly
portraits.

The annual exhibition of the Royal
Amateur Art Society will be opened on
May 1 1 by Princess Christian of Schleswig
Holstein, at No. 1, Belgrave-square. The
Loan Annexe will consist of drawings
in pencil and water-colours by Sir Thomas
Lawrence, P.R.A., and water - colour
portrait sketches by the late George Rich-
mond, R.A., also of curious old fans,
old shagreen and pique work. Owners of
drawings by Sir T. Lawrence and Mr. Rich-
mond who are willing to lend them are in-
vited to communicate with the Lady New-
ton, 20, Belgrave-square.

Mr. Benjamin Swift-'s new novel. The
Destroyer, is in the press. The " destroyer "
is love : and we understand that the closing
scene takes place in the Cathedral at Milan.

Heinrich Heine's sister, Frau Charlotte
Embdon, has conveyed, through her son,
the Baron L. Von Embden, her thanks to
Prof. Buchheim for a copy of his edition of
Heine's Lieder und Gedichte, recently pub-
lished in the "Golden Treasury Series."
Frau Embden expressed at the same time
her fervent wish that tho Professor's efforts
to make her brother's poems more generally
known and appreciated in this country may
be crowned with success.

Mr. Rudyabd Kiplino is due in England
again, from the Cape, next month.

4rt0

THE ACADEMY.

[Aprii, 9, 1898

" THE SUNKEN BELL."

That good books, like good wine, improve
by keeping, and that the literary vintage of
Christmas, 1896, should first be broached at
Easter, 1898, are refinements of taste which
the modem palate would reject. In the
instance of Gerhart Hauptmann's Vcrsunkene
Glocke, which has reached its thirtieth
edition in the fifteenth month of its
existence, and has been played at the rate
of ten times a month to the fickle public of
Berlin, I venture respectfully to believe that
the modern palate is wrong, and that the
literary Aladdin, with his cry of " old books
for new," and the Transatlantic sage who
lets a year intervene between the printing-
press and the paper-knife, would alike be
justified of their maxims.

This belief is supported by the following
confession. I was staying in Berlin when
the Vermnkene Glocke was first published.
I overheard the confused murmur of
baby-worship which accompanied the early
weeks of its life. I counted its endless
reproductions, both in book-form and upon
the stage. I watched the ecstasy of the
gray-beard scholars, who issued pamphlet
after pamphlet discussing the significance of
the new-bom play. A Royal infant, the sole
hope of a nation, could not have been
teased with more flattering attentions. The
drawing-rooms echoed with its praises, and
a critic who had been trusted to nurse the
Vermnkene Glocke achieved a reputation on
the strength of it. More seriously speaking,
the bibliography of the play is a formidable
item in the booksellers' catalogues, and
Gerhart Hauptmann has undoubtedly scored
the most notable literary success of recent
times in Germany. And yet — here comes
the confession — while the heady properties
of this strong wine were in the ascendant, I
refrained from broaching my particular
bottle. For more than a year the book lay
uncut upon my shelf, and its third jubilee
had been celebrated in the theatre before I
saw it performed. Tried by this practical
test, the value of Emerson's recommendation
becomes abundantly clear. The froth and
bubbles caused by this mystic bell when
it first sank to the bottom have since had
leisure to grow still ; the broken waters have
closed over it at last, and there it lies in the
crystal depths beyond the plumb-lines of
the critics.

It is, after all, so simple a matter, this
world-old allegory which it embodies, that
one wonders a little at the babel of readings
it provoked. It is, in all literalness, as old
as the liills themselves, which guard the
secret of their peace. When Moses came
down from the mountain, we are told, " the
skin of his face shone," and all Zipporah's
embraces, we remember, never succeeded
in finally fj^uenching the after-glow. Rather
it drove him forth again, led by that
perilous light,

"from the plains of Moab unto the moun-
tain of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that is over
against Jericho. And the Lord showed him
all the land of Gilead, imto Dan, and all
Naifhtali, and the land of Ephraim, and
Manasseh, and aU the land of Judah imto the
utmost sea, and the south, and the plain of the
valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees, unto
Zoar."

And

" the servant of the Lord died there in the
land of Moab, according to the word of the
Lord. . . . His eye was not dim, nor his
natural force abated. And the children of
Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab
thirty days."

Translate the Pisgah of historical fact into
the Pisgah of every man's yearning ; substi-
tute a less perfect revelation for the know-
ledge of the Lord face to face ; make the
tugging of the valley at his heart-strings
more imperious, as the vision dwindles in
brightness, and does every prophet, whether
of art, or ethics, or any other form of truth,
come down some time to Zipporah with a
shining face ? Does he not waver as the glow
departs, and the claims of the valley press
more closely upon him? And will he not
finally go forth again to refresh his eyes,
while they are not dim, with the lands
whose names are music, and to spend liis
force, while it is not abated, upon the peace
which is guarded by the hills? For the
source of his inspiration is eternal, but tlie
mourning in the plains is a thirty days'
matter at the most.

This, at any rate, was the experience of
Heinrich, the master bell-founder, who was
kissed by Rautendelein, the elfin maiden of
the hills, and conceived at her touch a
vision of the Perfect Bell, the Platonic
iSe'a of musical peals, so that for its sake
and hers he left his Magda in the
valley, and followed Rautendelein to a
mountain fastness, where she bent the
forces of nature to his wiU. This was his
experience when the village priest came
up and rebuked him for living in adultery.
" If your bell is so perfect," said the Church,
"and demands such tremendous sacrifices,
who is going to pay you for it ? " And
Heinrich met his (questioner with a fine
speech of passion, some lines of which I
attempt to represent :

" Who pays me for my work ? O Priest, good

Priest,
Does bUss crave blessing ? Shall the crown

be crowned p
For though you call my woi'k, as I have

called it,
A chime of bells, yet is it such a chime
As never belfry-tower of minster yet
Eaclosed, and in the crashing of its peal
Echoes the thunder of the eai'Iiest spring,
Which drove across the furrows like a

flame.

With silken banners rustling in the breeze,
The hosts of worshippers draw nigh my

temple.
And lo ! the chiming of my wonder-bells
Peals forth in tones of mingled sweet and

fire
Till every bosom pants with long desire.
It sings a song, forgotten and forlorn,
Fresh-drawn from crystal depths of faery

streams,
Telling of homely things, and children's love,
Known unto all, but never heard before.
And as it sinks, in dear, consuming strains.
Like plaintive nightingale or laughing

doves,
It breaks the ice in every human heart,
And hate and scorn and rage and pain and

grief
Melt into burning, burning, bmmng tears."

The glow was still strong upon hira win
he defended Rautendelein from some bol!
climbers from the village below, who li;
scaled his fastness and thrown stones :

" Not though an angel, sped direct from heavei
With lUy beckoniugs and pleading words
Bade me be steadfast in my chosen way.
Should I be swifter to obey.
Better convinced of my pure work and meri
Than by these voices that would howl ii>
down."

And when he returns triumphant from tl
conflict, and Rautendelein offers him
draught of her potent wine, he exclaiii
that ho is " again athirst for wine, andligh
and love, and thee." And this, I take i
was Heinrich' s experience to the end, thoiipi
the glow of his ideal departed for a wlii
when his children brought him from tl
plains the full vessel of theirmother'stears. 11
withstood the priest and repul sed the villager
but almost on the top of these scenes, wliic
seemed to draw him nearer to Rautendeleii
came the last trial of all, when the spiri
of his two little boys appeared to Heinricl
to tell him that Magda had drowned hersd
For a moment — the irrevocable moment
the artist reverted to the man. The maste
craftsman, who had been confirmed in h
faith by the reproaches of parish and church
became the conscience-stricken husband at.
father. He cast off Rautendelein, and a
the wonders to which she had opened h
eyes. His peal of bells was forgotten ; lit
the Prophet in the valley, " he put a va
on his face," and the plains dragged hi
down from the heights.

That the moment passed, though i
fatality remained ; that Heinrich repente'
and sought the light again ; that Eautei
delein, the shadow of his lost love, now tl
water-sprite's bride with her human expi
rience blotted out, should hand him tl
third of the witch's cups, and watch him ti
the morning broke, this is the logical coi
elusion of the drama, as Hauptmann tells
in the fifth act. For us, who have rec
the recital, refined by the char.ni of (Jeroia
poetic diction and drenched in the colours i
old-world German romance, there is r
need to follow the critics into the maz(
of their discussion. We may take fi
granted the Moral Philosophers' debat
whether Heinrich was nobler on his artist
height or in his descent to the plain. Evei
man must explore his Moab and Pisgah fi
himself ; there is no common ordnance su
vey, and valley and hill become hopeless!
mixed when pegged out by stay-at-hon
map-makers. Even more readily may «
dismiss the curious ingenuity of the bii
graphers, who would explain the play by tl
facts of the author's life, and translate
into a plea for celibacy. Hauptmann
speaking in the " categorical imperative,
and, like all great messages of univers;
import, his sympathy leaves something '
the initiative of his audience. "Many a:
the reed-carriers, but the Bacchantes a)
few " — this marchendrama but repeats tl
old familiar theme ; and the story of Heinru
and Rautendelein and Magda should remiii
us again that the gleam is not false, nor tl
music out of tune, though lights still failnr
bells still sink. L' ^■

aMk

kFRlh 9, l«98.]

THE ACADEMY.

401

:HE LONDON OF THE WEITEES.

VII. — Don Juan in London.

RD Byeon left London, never to return,
1 1816. He wrote the London passages in
!;» Juan at Genoa in 1823. It is at tlie
i se of the tenth canto of that poem that we
llcover Don Juan approaching London.
h retinue is considerable, as befits one
! it by Catharine of Eussia to negotiate a
: aty of hides and train-oil with England.
JV bull-dog and a bidl-finch and an
(liiine " go with him, and valets and secre-
lies occupy other vehicles. By his side
1 i little Leila. Canterbury passed, they
•d along the turnpike road, and at last
lend Shooter's Hill. Here occurs the
'toous single-stanza view of London. One
iji seen it quoted by saintly critics along
ij.h Wordsworth's Westminster Bridge
i<inet; " See," they have exclaimed, "how
ladon affected a noble and an ignoble
tid." This is not criticism, nor justice,
[e Byronic sneer does not mar, it merely
I tinguishos, Byron's picture; and it fixes
uuood to which, perhaps, no lover of
Ladon is wholly a stranger. Topping the
il, Don Juan's party enjoyed the spectacle
» ich had moved Drayton and Johnson to
r se, and had lured the brush of Turner :

mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and
shipping,

Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye
lould reach, with here and there a sail just
skipping

In sight, then lost amidst the forestry
•f masts ; a wilderness of steeples peeping

On tip-toe, through their sea-coal canopy ;

huge, dun cupola, like foolscap crown
•a afool'shead — and there is Loudon Town I "

it verse will always please robust minds.

Viat immensity is conveyed in Byron's

liaza ! "A wilderness of steeples peeping
tip-toe"; the sail "lost amidst the

Eostry of masts"! Yet London in 1814
but beginning to be a giant. Don
in saw a broad carpet of meadows encir-
;g the town. Toll-gates and cottage
dens gay with hollyhocks dotted the
ite road before him. The summer
oxes" of the "cits," with their toy

tciples and pagodas, alone signified the
rness of London. True, houses were
sping across the Lambeth Marshes, con-

iriging as they crept. Horace Smith, had

jit bewailed the fact that :

8t GJeorge's Fields are fields no more,
The trowel supersedes the plough ;

Huge inundated swamps of yore,
Are changed to civic villas now ; "

ai David Cox had snatched in the same
fiHs the last rural view of St. Paul's, the
la cow-pond unpolluted by lime and brick-
'.t.

)nward rolled Don Juan. His sanguinary
a(|enture with the highwayman onapproach-
iii the city of freedom and virtue need
n( be lingered on here ; but the death of
tl robber, who, at his last gasp, untied his
ki chief, exclaiming, " Give Sal that ! " is
ai veil done in its way as the death of the
gliiator in " Childe Harold." The pro-
giss through the villages and turnpikes,

irough Kennington and all the other

tons," is described with B3rron'8 dash as a
sketcher :

" Through Groves, so call'd as being void of
trees
(Like lucus, from no light) ; through
prospects named
Mount Pleasant, as containing nought to
please,
Nor much to cUmb ; through little boxes
framed
Of bricks, to let the dust in at your ease
With ' To be let ' upon their doors pro-
claimed ;
Through 'Rows' most modestly called 'Para-
dise,'
Which Eve might quit without much sacri-
fice ;

Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes,
and a whirl

Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion !
Here taverns wooing to a pint of ' purl ' :

Tbere mails fast flying off like a delusion :
There barbers' blocks with periwigs in curl

In windows : here the lamplighter's in-
fusion
Slowly distUl'd into the gUmmering glass
(For in those days we had not got to gas) ; —

Through this, and much, and more, is the
approach
Of travellers to mighty Babylon :
AVhether they come by horse, or chaise, or
coach.
With sUght exceptions, all the ways seem
one.
I could say more, but do not choose to
encroach
Upou the guide-book's privilege. The sun
Had set some time, and night was on the

ridge
Of twilight, as the party cross'd the bridge."

The " bridge " was old Westminster Bridge,
built by Charles Labelye, the Swiss, and
first opened to the public in 1750. It had
inspired Wordsworth's sonnet in 1803.
And Gibbon, one remembers, wrote, when
leaving London for Lausanne and literature :
" As my post-chaise moved over Westminster
Bridge, I bade a long farewell to the fumum
et opes strepitumque Homce."

Over this bridge Don Juan now roUed
into the well-lit crowded streets of London.
The gas-lamps dazzled him. The bridge
had been lit with gas in 1814, and on
Christmas Day of that year the general
lighting of London by gas had been in-
augurated. Hence he notes :

" The lamps of Westminster's more regular
gleam,"

and continues :

" The line of lights, too, up to Charing Cross,
Pall Mall, and so forth, have a coruscation
Like gold as in comparison to dross,

Matched with the Continent's illumination,

Whose cities Night by no means deigns to

gloss :

The French were not yet a lamp-lighting

nation ;

And when they grew so— on their new found

lantern.
Instead of wicks, they made a wicked man
turn."
Even the English became " a gas-lighting
nation " unwiUingly. Sir Humphry Davy's
scoffing suggestion that the dome of St. Paul's
should be used as a gasometer was typical ;
and the dwellers in Grosvenor- square
haughtily burned oil for twenty years after
the rest of London had adopted gas. Mean-

while, Don Juan rattles up Pall Mall, and
past " St. James's Palace and St. James's
" Hells," to " one of the sweetest of hotels."
From his desk in Genoa Byron could guide
his hero through the West End with a perfect
knowledge of his subject. AU his London
homes had been located there. He had
lived in Piccadilly and in Jermyn-street. He
had written " Childe Harold " in St. James's-
street. New Bond-street and Albemarle-
street and the Albany had given him shelter.
Watier's Club, and the Alfred, and the
Cocoa Tree had been his haunts ; and at
Rogers' breakfast table and in Mr. Murray's
drawing-room he had met Moore and Scott
and the wits, orators, and social leaders of
the day. He knew every fashionable street.
In a note to Moore on April 9, 1814, he had
written before his exile: "There was a
night for you! without once quitting the
table, except to ambulate home [to the
Albany], which I did alone, and in utter
contempt for a hackney coach, and my
own vis, both of which were deemed
necessary for our conveyance." The
recollection of this night [he had been
drinking " a kind of Regency punch " at the
"Cocoa Tree"] might well have moved
Byron's pen when, on the Mediterranean,
he wrote of Don Juan's reception :

"In the Great World — which, being inter-
preted,
Meaneth the west or worst end of a city,
And about twice two thousand people, bred

By no means to be very wise or witty,
Bur to sit up while others He in bed,

And look down on the universe with pity —
Juan, as an inveterate patrician.
Was well received by persons of condition."

We have a rollicking Byronic picture of
West-End life in the season, much of which
can be quoted as true to-day. Take three
stanzas out of thirty :

" His afternoons he pass'd in visits, luncheons,
Lounging, and boxing ; and the twilight
hour
In riding round those vegetable puncheons
Call'd 'Parks,' where there is neither
fruit nor flower
Enough to gratify a bee's slight munchings ;

But after all it is the only ' bower '
(In Moore's phrase) where the fashionable

fair
Can form a sUght acquaintance with fresh a>r.

Then dress, then dinner, then awakes the
world ;
Then glare the lamps, then whirl the
wheels, then roar
Through street and square fast flashing
chariots hm-l'd
Like hamess'd meteors; then along the
floor
Chalk mimics painting; then festoons are
twirl'd;
Then all the brazen thunders of the door.
Which opens to the thousand happy few
An earthly Paradise of ' Or Molu.'

There stands the noble hostess, nor shall
sink
With the three thousandth curtsey ; there
the waltz,
The only dance which teaches girls to think,
Makes one in love even with its very faults.
Saloon, room, hall, o'erflow beyond their
brink.
And long the latest of arrivals halts,
'Midst royal dukes and dames condemn'd to

climb,
And gain an inch of staircase at a time."

402

Moralising these scenes, Byron does not
forget to exclaim on the transitonness of
the social drama, and the entrances and
exits of the actors. " Where is the world
of eight years past? " he exclaims.

" Where's Bnimmel ? Dish'd. Where's Long
Pole Wellesley ? Diddled.
Where's Whitbread ? EomUly ? Where s
George the Third ?
Where is his wiU ? (That's not so soon
unriddled ) „ ,,

And where is ' Pum ' the Fourth, our
' royal bird ' ?
Gone down, it seems, to Scotland, to be
fiddled
Unto by Sawney's violin, we have heard :
' Caw me, caw thee '—for six months hath

been hatching
This scene of royal itch and loyal scratching.

Where is Lord This ? And where my Lady
That?
The Honourable Mistresses and Misses ?
Some laid aside, like an old opera hat.
Married, unmarried, and re-married (this
is
An evolution oft performed of late) :
Where are the Dublin shouts — and London
hisses ?
Where are the Grenvilles ? Tum'd, as usual.

Where
My friends the Whigs ? Exactly where they
were.

Where are the Lady Carolines and Franceses ?
Divorced, or doing there anent. Ye annals
So briUiant, where the list of routs and
dances is —
Thou Morning Post, sole record of the
panels
Broken in carriages, and all the phantasies
Of fashion — say what streams now fiU
those channels ?
Some die, some fly, some languish on the

Continent,
Because the times have hardly left them one
tenant."

These were sights and reflections which Don
Juan could have enjoyed in Bussia. There
were spectacles, nobler than gas-lamps, that
he could enjoy only in England ; and at one
of these Byron does not permit his hero to
scoff :

" He also had been busy seeing sights —

The Parliament and all the other houses ;
Had sate beneath the gallery at nights,
To hear debates whose thunder roused (not
rouses)
The world to gaze upon those northern lights
Which floated as far as where the musk-
bull browses :
He had also stood at times behind the

throne —
But Grey was not arrived, and Chatham
gone.

He saw, however, at the closing session
That noble sight, when really free the
nation,
A king in constitutional possession

Of such a throne as is the proudest station.

Though despots know it not — till the

progression

Of freedom shall complete their education.

'Tis not mere splendour makes the show

august
To eyes or hearts — it is the peojjle's trust."

On this note we may end. The descriptions
of London in " Don Juan " are a medley
within a medley ; but they are mordant and
grraphic, and therefore memorable.

THE ACADEMY.

[Apkil 9, 1898.

LIGHT VERSE.
A Plea for its Eevival.

Light verse — to use a title convenient, if
something inept — is the Cinderella of
English literature, regarded by most readers
and many critics with a frigid indifference
or, at best, with good-humoured tolerance.
Your fifth-rate "poet," your writer of son-
nets doleful and threnodies lugubrious, how-
ever scant his success in execution, in
aspiration at least is reckoned deserving of
sympathetic praise. But the versifier of a
gayer mood finds himself accounted but a
literary buffoon, and learns that, by a cruel
irony of fortune, the better his work, the
more careful his polish, the greater his art
in concealing artifice, so much the more
will the average reader believe that no
real labour can have gone to the making
of it.

"Worse still, the critics, as their highest meed
of praise, will advise him to forswear forth-
with his especial art — an art so rare, so
delicate, so hard of mastery — and to enrol
himself in that nameless legion of melanclioly
poetasters who bewail existence in the ears
of an unheeding world. "Who does not
know the run of the glib sentence penned
by the " indolent reviewer " with a volume
of good light verse on his desk ? " Delight-
fully fluent," he writes; " composed evidently
with remarkable ease and facility ; qualities,
however, which make one wish that the
writer would devote his evident powers to
serious poetry. There is little in the
present volume that calls for serious
notice. . . ."

Once more, your critic commonly believes
that the only light verse of any real merit
has been written by Calverley, Praed,
Locker-Lampson, and Austin Dobson ; any
others he eyes with suspicion as rash tres-
passers upon the demesne appropriated for
all time by this quartette. Scarce could
there be a judg^nent more misleading. Mr.
Dobson, in his especial field, is hors concours.
None can hope to rival his treatment of
eighteenth century themes, to unite his
exact historical knowledge with his mastery
of verse graceful and refined. Yet other
subjects there are ready to the hand of tlie
verse-writer; he needs not to dress his
characters in powder and patch ; in a word,
his work is not of necessity inferior if its in-
spiration be drawn from the present rather
than the past. Turn to the other three ; we
may not endorse Mr. Swinburne's verdict
that "Calverley has been preposterously
overpraised," we may value to the fuU the
smoothness of Praed, the deftness of Locker-
Lampson, but is it heresy to suggest that —
to give a single modern instance — their equal
in dexterity and humour is to be found in
the person of Mr. Owen Seaman ?

There is, indeed, a striking difference be-
tween " light verse "as we know it to-day
and the ragged stuii which was once in vogue.
The older mode was that of Theodore Hook,
that of the Ingoldsby Legends, wherein a few
extra syllables in a line mattered little, a
clumsy inversion or a false rhyme still less.
"We have learnt better things ; we have been
taught that good light verse must be polished
ad unguem, tliat the humour may be subtle

and refined, and even blended with a delicate
pathos. Best of aU, to emend a celebrated
dictum, "Puns have had their day," to'
write light verse well you must needs
unite a sense of humour to a sensitive
ear, intolerant of jarring lines and slovenly
finish.

In some degree the art of writing
serious poetry is easier of attainment.
True, in that latter pursuit, your chance of
great achievement is remote. On the other
hand, you may acquit yourself creditably
with small natural gift or expenditure of ,
toil ; you may be — as the great bulk of
" serious " verse writers are — you may be
mediocre, no man forbidding you ; but that
saving middle term exists not for light verse.
Either it succeeds — it " comes off," to use
a slang phrase — or it fails, fails hopelessly,
irremediably. Perhaps of no art may it be
said with more truthfulness that only he
who himself has attempted it can rightly
estimate its difficulties, can guess how-
much " labour of the file " has gone to
the perfecting of those lines which fall
so pat, which seem so effortless, so in-
evitable.

Partly, no doubt, through this lack of
appreciation — for the work is so hard to do
well, so lightly regarded when done— and
partly, to be frankly mercantile, because
hers is the worst paid service into whioh the
man of letters can enter, the gayer Muse
has but few devotees in this country, finding
readier honour across the Channel. Some
who paid her assiduous court in their
youth — Mr. Lang, Mr. Gosse, Mr. Gilbert,
and, alas! Mr. Dobson — have deserted her
in later years. Yet she can claim some
worthy followers. Mr. Seaman's name has
been mentioned above ; nor can we forget
the skill of Mr. C. L. Graves, of Mr.
Alfred Cochrane, Mr. Barry Pain, Mr.
A. Godley and Mr. E. C. Lehmann;
authors whoso work, widely though it
differ in manner and matter, can yet he
classed with some fitness under the common
title of good light verse. This brief
catalogue makes no pretence of complete-
ness, other names could be added to it with-
out impropriety. But, when all is said,
writers of good light verse are few, and the
bulk of the rhymes which figure in the
"comic" journals are of a quality so con-
temptible that it were otiose to waste
criticism upon them.

"We have been bidden of late to welcome
a growing taste for serious poetry; some
glimmering of appreciation is to be discerned,
they tell us, in the mind of " the average
reader " ; no longer a drug in the market,
poetry is to be a joy to the man in the
street. Perhaps, then, it is not quite idle
to hope that at some future time the
" average reader " wiU gain an insight into
the true worth of light verse, when he wiU
perceive that, at its best, it is no mere
vagrant of the outer courts, but can fitly
claim a place, humble yet honourable,
within the temple of the Muses.

ipKH, 9, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

403

PUEE FABLES.

The Two Men of Letters.

Two men of letters met in the workhouse.
'My friend," cried one of them, "what
■ il brought you to tliis ? "

Sloth ! " replied the other. " And you
low came you, here ? "
Alas, sir! Have you forgotten that I
a stylist ? "

Newverse and the Editor.

^ewverse brought an editor to task for

noticing his book.

iuoth the editor: "Sir, the verses were
foolish that it would have been impossible

me justly to j) raise them, and I had
rcy."

Knave ! " cried Newverse, " knowest
u not that I had rather be flayed alive
n perish re viewless ? "

III.

The Capable Plagiarist.

!Tie stars accused the moon of plagiarism.
^nd they sent word to the nightingale
to commend her, saying, " Shedeceiveth
e, and borroweth this beauty."
' Even so," answered the nightingale.
et which of j'ou will tell me that she
roweth not to advantage ? " ■

IV.

The King and the Villa.

L king, making a progress through his

iiinions, came suddenly on a glittering
r: a, the like of which, with its gables and

•ots, and palm-house and gorgeous front
^den, he did not remember to have seen

jre.

Lud he enquired of his equerry to what
)i son of rank and fortune such magnifi-
;( ce might belong.

That, sir," answered the equerry, "is
of the residences of Mister Brilliant, the
j^at story- writer."
Bless my soul ! " gasped the king.

T. W. H. 0.

THE WEEK.

yE do not always understand the ways
of publishers ; but at holiday-time
;Uy are made jjlain. Hardly any serious
lilrature has appeared, for instance, during
past week ; but there has been a rush of
tion (see our "Guide to Novel Eeaders").
8 does not, we trust, mean a wet Easter.

N justification of a new prose rendering
M'he Odes and Epodes of Horace, Mr. A. D.
Q lley writes :

After all, Horace in prose need not be more
jKously inadequate than Horace in verse.
El lys in translating him metrically have never
ydbeen crowned with any real success. When

the humbler aim is merely to convey some idea
of the exact meaning and not to attempt a tour
deforce, the translator, if he wishes to be taken
seriously, had better keep to prose, which is less
repellent to the reader than bad poetry ; at
least, he will not be obscuring the correctness
of his interpretation by the inferiority of his
versification."

We will give Mr. Godley's rendering of
Horace's most famous Ode as a specimen of
his method.

" Posthumus, Posthumus, the flying years,
alas ! glide on, nor shall piety delay wrinkles
and hasting eld and unconquered death ; no,
my friend, not if every day thou shouldst offer
three hundred bulls to appease tearless Pluto,
who enchains Geryon's triple bulk, and Tityus
with that gloomy wave which all we who live
by earth's bounty must traverse, be we kings
or poor husbandmen. 'Tis vain to shun bloody
war and the hoarse Adriatic's breaking surf ;
vain to guard against autumn's unhealthy soxith
winds ; still must we behold black Cocytus'
dull meandering stream, and Danaus' accursed
kin, and Sisyphus, iE ilus' son, doomed to an
eternity of toil. iThy lands, thy house, thy
loved wife — all must thou leave ; nor of all
yon trees that thou tendest shall any, save the
hated cypress, follow their short-lived lord.
Thy worthier heir shaU drain the Csecuban
thou guardest with a hundred keys, and stain
thy floors with royal wine that e'en priestly
banquets cannot match."

A ii.VNDsoME volume is Mr. Ernest Law's
The Royal Gallery of Hampton Court. It
takes the form of an annotated catalogue,
interspersed with numerous reproductions
of jiaintings. The aims of the author
have been comprehensive. The book is

" an attempt towards tracing the history of the
pictures in the collection of Her Majesty the
Queen at Hampton Court, seeking to dis-
criminate between the valuable and worthless ;
to verify or disprove their claims to authenticity ;
to assign them, as far as possible, to their real
painters ; and at the game time to present, by
means of descriptive, biographical, and critical
commentary and notes, some idea of the circum-
stances in which the pictures were painted and
the place they occupy in history or in art. To
this end researches, in the first place, have
been made among the old inventories of
Henry VIII., Charles I., the Commonwealth,
James II., Queen Anne, «S:c., and in the State
Papers and other ancient records, which have
resulted in fixing the time when most of the
pictures came into the royal collection, and in
determining the painters to whom they were
originally ascribed."

Mr. Law has had assistance from the highest
sources, and, outwardly, his book is as com-
pete as it is comely.

Studies in Brown Humanity, by Hugh
Clifford, the author of In Court and Kampomj,
deals with native life in the Malay Penin-
sula. Many of the sketches wear the garb of
fiction, but the author declares that

" they are studies of things as they are— drawn
from the Ufo. ... I can only claim these stories
as my own in that I have filled in the pictures
from my knowledge of the localities in which
the various events happened, and have generally
told my tales in the fashion which appealed to
me as the most appropriate. Umat, who
is the subject of one of the sketches,
is a very real person indeed, and as I
write these lines he is sleeping peacefully
over the punkah cord, with which he has

become inextricably entangled. The purely
descriptive chapters are the result of pfrsonal
observation in a land which has beconio very
dear to me, which I know intimately, and where
the best years of my hfe have hitherto been
spent."

The "Eur and Feather Series" has
become the " Fur, Feather, and Fin Series,"
and it now includes a work on The Salmon,
by the Hon. A. E. Gathome-Hardy.

To the "Story of the Empire Series" is
added New Zealand, by Mr. William Pember
Reeves.

Gl^vsgow Cathedral is not much heard
of in England ; but a Glasgow firm of
publishers has just sent south an imposing
Boole of Glasgow Cathedral. This work
has been edited by Mr. George Eyre-Todd,
and contains contributions by a number
of writers. It is nobly printed and illus-
trated, four of the illustrations being full-
page photogravures. The book aims to be
a complete historical and pictorial survey of
Glasgow Cathedral.

Another part (H — Haversian) of the New
English Dictionary is issued.

THE BOOK MARKET.

PENNY DOMESTICITY.

IT is profitable, like all adjuncts of the
chapel. Brixton battens on it ; the
maidens of HoUoway absorb it in the long
tram ride to the City ; by its aid a railway
journey becomes a glow of virtue. But we
will not seem to mock — penny domesticity
has its place, and a big place it is, in modem
journalism. Mr. Pearson set the model in
his Home Notes ; Mr. Harmsworth pursued
him with Home Chat ; and now with ease
we count :

Home Notes.
Homf Chat.
Our Home.
The Happy Home.
The Home Companion.
Woman's Life.
The Lady''s Gazette.
Etc., etc.

They are all unimx)eachable ; they are
nearly all extremely well edited ; and as to
contents, they are as like as pins. Each is
intensely parental and affectionate. Eeaders
are emphatically our readers, more often my
readers. The "Assistant Editress" of one
paper writes :

"It is brave and good of you, Bessie, not to
mind having to be a lady-clerk. . . .

The poem you send me, Herojia, I am glad
to tell you, shows a promise of such jKietic
feeling and real talent as I have seldom . . . ."

Again wo read :

" AlonK. — You should certainly bow. The
gentleman evidently knows what is correct.
He is right not to take any notice unless you
do. It is yours, as it is every other lady's
privilege" to indicate her wish for recognition."

404

THE ACADEMY.

[Aprh, 9, 1898.

But the profane eye finds most amuse-
ment in the advice given to such a corre-
spondent as Esperanza Wild editresses shall
not prevent us from quoting it in full :

"Esperanza tells me that some months ago
she was staying at a hydropathic establishment
and there met a young gentleman who paid her
a great deal of attention, so that she thought
he really cared for her. Indeed, when he left,
a few days before he did, she asked if he might
write to her, and begged her to call him by his
Christian name. Since then she has heard
nothing of him, and she wants to know whether
she might write to him, as she thinks he may

have lost her address. 1 certainly advise

Esperenza to do nothing, but to try to forget
this young man as soon as possible. 'Men
were deceivers ever,' and idle young men at
hydropathics are very apt to make the time
pass pleasantly for themselves by a flirtation,
never troubling to think that their sport may
be another's pain. You have evidently been
victimised by a selfish and unscrupulous young
man, for he had no business to have gone so
far unless he meant to go farther, and had he
been really in love with you he would have
written to you at once. When a man loses a
girl's address he takes care to find it if he
wants to, for ' where there's a will there's a
way.' "

No one can deny that this is interesting
" copy " — in its place.

Two papers refuse to mix questions of the
heart with questions of wall paper and the
removal of grease spots. The first has
opened a " Courtship Column." Here
forlorn letters of inquiry (they are always
forlorn) are printed, as well as " Amor's "
answers ; hence we read :

"Lizzie writes thus: 'About four months
ago a young man paid me a great deal of
attention. He was very kind to me, and
always came to see me according to his appoint-
ment. I was very fond of him, and very sorry
to part from him. We have been corresponding
with each other, and he has also given me
presents and appeared to be greatly attached
to me. He has promised me marriage, but of
late he failed to see me according to his promise.
Can you kindly give me any advice on the
matter ? We are not engaged, but he has
promised to send me an engagement ring for
my birthday. I have written to him to know
why he has behaved so meanly, but I have
received no answer. Should I be doing right
in sending back his presents or not ? I am
nineteen years of age, and my lover is the
same age.'

Answer : ' Amor ' fears Lizzie has been too
hasty, and offended her lover by terming his
conduct mean. Lovers, above all people,
should remember that things written sound so
very much different to things said. 'Amor'
thinks Lizzie had better try and see the young
man, and have an explanation, and hopes this
may turn out nothing more serious than a
lover's quarrel."

Another paper dedicates a page frankly
to "Sweethearts and Lovers " ('Envelopes
to be marked 'Lovers' Difficulties').
The following precious morsel is a revelation
of the trivial issues which not only achieve
print, but become the basis of a whole class
of journals :

" Here is a letter from a married lady. She
admits to being curions, and she teUs me that
her husband has a very annoying and irritating
way of bringing home newspapers at night
with certain little paragraphs cut out of them.
It sets her wondering what these paragraphs

originally were, anfl on one or two occasions
she has gone to the trouble and bother of buy-
ing duplicate copies of the paper, and found
that there was no harm in the paragraphs at
all. Can I tell her why I think he does it ?

Well, I will give you a perfectly frank

answer. Seeing that you have tested this, and
found that these all-important paragraphs
which your husband cuts out amounted to
absolutely nothing at all, you can only come to
the conclusion that he simply does it for a bit
of fun. Probably he knows what you have
admitted to me, that one of the principle in-
gredients which go to make up your constitution
is curiosity. I daresay that he is quietly chuck-
ling all the time, and does not intend to cause
you five minutes' anxiety. Take my advice, let
the whole matter sUde. Do not let him see
that you notice anything, and depend upon it,
it will soon be stopped, and you will be relieved
of all your anxiety."

We violate these confidences with some
misgivings. But they .appear to embody
the vital principle of penny domestic
journalism. These papers are read by
maidens who are willing to be wives ; and
courtship being the basis of their hopes, the
ethics of courtiihij) and bridals receive
prominence. And the day of general disser-
tations is over. The " You and Mo " note is
all important.

"Boudoir Chat," "Side Talks with
Girls," "Our At Home," "Five O'clock
Tea with the Editor " — these are
the cues. In this spirit the whole
making of a home is discussed ; and every
good thing is recommended, from a bicycle
lamp to a forgiving spirit. Great are the
treatises on furniture {'cide "Howl Furnished
my Sweetheart's Eoom ") ; great the articles
of guidance (ride " The Etiquette of a
Wedding " and " How to Answer Advertise-
ments ") ; great the character-sketches {vide
" Clever Wives of Well-known Men " and
" Men whom Women Admire ") ; great the
moral philosophy {vide " The Restlessness of
the Age " and " Characters as Shown by the
Mouth"); great the verses and versicles
which flow into every cranny {vide " Only a
Little Pink Baby Shoe " and " Voices of the
Tender Past.") The genre of penny home
papers is definitely formed ; and, like
most products of compxilsory education, it
bewilders.

CORRESPONDENCE.

JEAN-JACQUES EOUSSEAU. •

Sir, — Jean-Jacques' life has always been
a favourite theme with French essayists.
His name evokes a unique past made of
strange doings and imperishable doctrines
having left their mark upon society at large.
This great man proved his own enemy in
many ways. His " Confessions," published
after his death, supplied posterity with a
weapon wherewith to scourge his memory.
His critics complacently dwell upon his
morose character, and find no excuse for it
except his own natural perversity, forgetting
that the cruel internal complaint from which
he suffered almost invariably leads to mental
gloom and depression. An early martyr to
melancholia, Bousseau must have stood more

than once on the brink of self-destructior
It is to woman he owed his salvation. Thos
fair enthusiasts whom Julie'' s love-story ha
enthralled, were all up in arms in hi
defence, shielding him from the outer worli
soothing him in his distress, leading him h
the hand, so to say, like a child in neerl r
protection. Indeed, the ladies of Franc
had every cause to be grateful to the ma
who, whatever his crotchets and vagaiie-
had meant well by them, teaching then
above all things, to be good wives an
mothers. He preached to them a gospi
that went straight to their hearts. We
might Victor Cousin, who felt so keenly o
the question of female education (see h:
Jacqtieline Pascal) deplore the neglect int
which Rousseau's writings had fallen noii
adays. That question, according I
Cousin, was understood by none betfc
than by the author of Emilc, and he mm
particularly refers to the fifth and coi
eluding part of that remarkable treatif
which concerns woman alone and tlio noh
part assigned to her by nature at the side (
her companion, man. The " New Woman,
I am afraid, will think but poorly of tbof
eloquent pages so completelj' at variance wit
her own bold theories, for Jean- Jacques hel
it as his firm belief, and all his argumen
are based upon that belief, that equalil
between the two sexes was neither posssib
nor desirable for woman's own sake, wl
would thereby lose all moral influence an
the respect due to her. Altri tempi, alt
costumi. ,

One of the more recent contributors to tl
"Rousseau literature" is 51. Leo Clareti
the son, I presume, of the distinguished dire
tor of the French comedy. Underthe attractii
title, J.-J. Eomseau et xes Amies, M. Claret
presents to the reader a series of biographic
sketches, the place of honour in the serit
being given to Mme. d'Houdetot, the mo
sympathetic of all Rousseau's " friends,
and the one he loved best ; but to i
purpose, for the sprightly Countess he
already an admirer, the famous Sain
Lambert, to whom she was devote'
As customary in those times among tt
upper classes, the Count, her husband, liv(
on the best terms possible with his wife
paramour. The prevailing fashion was, n^
to stick at such trifles as fidelity in wedlot
and respect for one's own name. M. Claret
tells us all this in that light, easy style i
which the French language lends itself i
well, but he is not very careful as to date
For instance, after having stated that Sain
Lambert died in 1803, and the husband i
1806, he would have us believe that the t»
met at the Countess's table in 1811 t
celebrate an anniversary. It speaks we
for the old lady's ner\-es that she could s
down to dinner with a couple of gbos
without being iipset.

Armed with Jean- Jacques' "Confessions,
the most startling monument of self-reveli
tion ever conceived, the author has not
word to say in exculpation of that poi
monomaniac, racked by disease, who 8.1'
an enemy in every fellow-creature. *
Claretie is particularly indignant wit
Rousseau for having forsaken his cliildret
The curious part of the affair is that no o"
ever saw them. There is not a particle f

Li'RiL 9, 1898.1

THE ACADEMY.

405

?pen(lent evidence to show that those
dren have ever existed. There is no
tten proof extant that Therese Levasseur,

supposed motlier, who survived her
strious husband upwards of twenty years,

ever been questioned upon that moot
it. That poor woman may not have
n a paragon of virtue, but she was a
1 and faithful nurse, and the tears of
titude with which Rousseau spoke of her
tiis declining years are a testimony in

favour that no sneers can obliterate.

Olaretie's sarcasms are out of

;e concerning her. His associating

name with that of Omphale by way of
ing ridicule on him "who sat at her

" is in worae taste still. M. Claretie seems
jorget what he owes to the author of the
Urat Social. The very French he writes
Rousseau's, tho father and creator of
inch modern prose. The judicious,
ays accurate, Sainte-Beuve calls him a
ghieraienr de la langxe" and he points
I the sources from wlience he drew his
niration : Rousseau is the first French
ter who introduced nature into the arid
Iratiire of the eighteenth century, who
ike in melodious and hitherto unknown
; ins of blue skies, green fields and tlie
•iquil majesty of forests. Those were
( cities to tlio readers of Voltaire's La
' f/k and Montesquieu's Lettres Persanes,
I they charmed them. No wonder the
I es liked him so well and stuck to him

ho last.

[arch 14. Thomas Delta.

BOOK REVIEWS REVIEWED.

Dreamers of '^^E Daily Chronicle's critic
1 Ghetto." finds an affinity between Mr.
^^ ■ Zangwill's book and the works
le late Mr. Pater :

As in Pater, we arc carried up and down
uouturies to various parts of Europe, and

n ihown glimpses of life and strange phases

' bought, snatched, as it were, from the
aon which, when the brief scene is over,
again on either side, whilst that one point
me with its living hopes and thoughts, and
s varied colours, remains to us vivid and
orable. We have a vision of the years
;nted to us in typical souls. We Uve again
Ligh crises of human thought, and are

onoUed by tho writer's art to regard them,
IS a catalogue of errors or hopes dead and

o^ with, but under the vital forms in which at
ime or another they confronted the minds
•,tu»l men like ourselves."

ing to the work itsoU, this critic gives it
nUisiastic praise. We quote a passage
the end of his review :

ie<

!t will be seen that the author has courage.
"^ s not flatter or spare. He shows us all
i dor, the sordid narrowness, the per-
■ . .1 uigenuity of his people. Those arj the
er things, indeed, which give him his artistic
inirtunity. For, in jjathetic contrast to them
ll.jc reveals to us the peouUar glory of Israel
-til obstinate patience, the undying hope,
heprango beauty of an immemorial ritual, the
asbn of a despised kinship, and somewhere
1 tp heart of the race that unsatisfied hunger
or Irod. Had not the author himself passed
hri gh tho phases of emotion and thought
BpKtnted, for instance, in the ' Chad

Gadya,' he could not have accomplished that
fine study in dramatic meditation without ex-
aggeration, sentimentality or bathos. Yet ho
achieves the difficult task without a slip, and as
his world-weary and disillusioned Jew sinks in
a Venetian canal, and with his last breath tries
to utter the ancient words, ' Hear, O Israel, the
Lord our Gcd, the Lord is one,' we feel that the
common use of the word artist faUs short of
the truth."

From an acute and informing notice in
the St. James's Gazette by Mr. W. P. James,
we quote the following fragments :

" Mr. ZangwiU continues to interpret Israel
to the Gentiles. It is a work well worthy to be
done, and a work urgently needed to be done,
if one is to judge by tho rapidity with which
modern European nations drop back into a
bUnd mediaeval hatred of the Chosen People.
The Dreamers of the Ghettu is a thoughtful and,
both in form and substance, a singularly
interesting contribution both to the work
of interpretation and to the literature of
fiction. . . .

Mr. Zangwill, as readers of his first Jewish
novel will remember, has a pitiless eye for the
pinchbeck gUtter of the parvenu Jew. He
detects it even in the great English Earl, the
' Primrose Sphynx,' perhaps not forgetting,
besides tho glitter of tde novels, some Uttle in-
dications in Disraeli's private letters to his
sister written in early manhood, in ' the
days of the dandies. ' And it is precisely because
he thinks the world is only too familiar with the
external aspect of the prosperous Jewish par-
venu that he is anxious to interpret the
' dreamers ' oE the ghetto, the creators of
reUgions and religious revivals, the people of
' longings that cannot be uttered,' who yet
have given Europe, in Spinoza, its most pro-
foimd philosophy ; in Heine its most perfect
and most poignant love-lyrics as well as its
most biting wit. ' The Jews,' said Heine, ' were a
wonderful people. They invented Christianity
and loans : Christendom highly appreciated
loans; it had not made trial of Christianity.
If Christendom ceases to appreciate loans when
the Christians are not the creditors, and the
usurer charges sixty per cent., never was
Nemesis clearer. Christendom, which drove
the Jews from the general street into its
ghettos, drove the Jews likewise into the
practice of usury. . . .'

It is rather amusing, by the way, now to
recall Mr. Zangwill's debut as a 'new humorist.'
HappUy, when mirth was required of him, he
remembered Jerusalem ; and his tongue, instead
of cleaving to the roof of his mouth, became
eloquent in her service. The seriousness of the
present book is notable. It is an earnest i)lea
for the spirit of religion against the tyranny of
the letter. And a comparison of Joseph the
Dreamer with iWiel Acosta will prove how im-
partially in this matter Judaism and Christianity
are treated by Mr. ZangwiU."

The Spectator devotes an article to Mr.
Zangwill. The writer begins by recalling
Mr. Zangwill's earlier work, The Children of
the Ghetto, which he thinks was " a book of
tho truly revealing kind." He then com-
pares The Dreamers of the Ghetto with it —
but unfavourably :

" We expo. ted it, perhaps unreasonably, to
explnin something of tlie central fact of all
Jewish history, tho marvellous, tho almost
miraculous, disparity and distance between
their highest minds and their average minds,
between Isaiah and the Rabbis, between St.
Paul and the traders in the market-place, and
found nothing that made the facts in any
degree more clear. The book is a collection of

sketches of men who are often striking and
always interesting, but does not, so far as wo
see, suggest any thread of connexion between
the minds of those men, or any, even the most
insufficient, explanation of their lives.

If Mr. Zangwill really wishes to make his
people clearer to the world, and so remove a
mist of unjust prejudice, he should tell us his
views, through tales if he will, though we think
he might do the work more convincingly through
a graver statement of all that in his judgment
differentiates the Hebrew from the European
intellect. The former intellect has, as we con-
ceive, another kind of intuit-on, one that pierces
the veil of life more sharply, and sees more
clearly the rightful dominance of that which is
beyond. And he shoidd answer three questions,
which are all of them just now, though un-
important here, of terrible importance to his
kinsmen on the Continent. The first is — are
Hebrews cap*ble of being patriots ? . . . Mr.
Zangwill in this very book sings a sort of piean
to England as the country which has caught
the Hebraic inspiration, and is heiress, as it
were, of the Hebrew spirit. StUl, the Continent
is fuller of Jews than England is, and the Conti-
nent deniespatriotism to Jews with terrible results
for the persecuted people. What is the precise
truth as a fair-minded Jew understands it, and
in what way does the feeling for their race slide
into the feeling for their adopted country ?
What, again, is the true Jewish feeling among
the thoughtful as well as the ordinary as to the
acquisition of wealth ? Do they look upon it
as the medisBval Jews did, as a defence, or as a
means of obtaining luxury, or as an instalment
for obtaining the power for which they are
believed to thirst? And, finally, what is the
depth and what are tho liruits c f that spirit of
mockery which all their enemies of to-day
attribute to Jews, which is so singularly absent
from the Old Testament— there is only one
mocking sentence in it — b>it which inspires the
genius of Heine, is believed on the Continent to
be ingrained in the character of the race, aad is,
we incline to think, revealed as really existing
by their special tastes in jests ? No Jew, we
fancy, not even Mr. Zangwill, quite under-
stands how completely sealed a book the
modern Jew character is to the Gentile com-
munities, or how much dangerous prejudice
woidd disappear if it were thoroughly under-
stood. It is the unknown, not the known,
before which modern men recoil."

From a well-written review
"^■Sc""%ar" of this comedy, signed H.
Edmond Rostand. jj_ j"^ jq t]je Westminster

Gazette we take leave to quote tho following
passages :

"Fortunately M. Eostand is no decadent.
Whether he build us up a delicate fairyland
structure, breathmg, like ' La Princesse Loin-
taine,' the spirit of mediajval romance, or give
us a bold, heroic comedy, full of hfe and colour
and movement, like ' Cyrano,' he is always
poetically sane and vigorously dramatic. It
may be old-fashioned to feel grateful to him
for this, and for his choice of subjects among
things pleasant and of good report ; but there
are many of us who, like Mr. Hardcastle, std
love some old fashions better than tho now, and
the brilliant succesjufof ' Cyrano ' in Pans
shows that, even there, such a taste -has not
altogether lost its influence.

Cyrano, the Gascon hero with the huge nose :

' Un nez ! Ah ! messeigneurs, quel nez que ce
nez-la ! . ,

On ne peut voir passer un pareil nasigere ^ ^^
Sanss'ecrier " Oh ! non, vraimontil exagere .
Puis on sourit, on dit " II va I'enlever," m us
Monsieur de Bergerao ne I'enleve jamais.'

406

THE ACADEMY.

[April 9,

Cyrano is played at the Porte St. Martin by
Coquelin, and is, of course, the part Sir Henry
Irving had in his eye when he bought the
English rights of the play. So much as to look
at Cyrano's nose is dangerous ; to mock at it
is to face his steel. Thus he saves his ugliness
from ridicule among his fellow-men, but, alas !
he has no spell to cast over women, and he —
the famous poet and fighter, the glass of fashion,
and the mould of form for every Gascon youth
— loves in vain the beauteous Eoxane, whose
affections are set on young Christian dn Nouvil-
lette. The irony of mocking Cupid makes
Eoxane, all unconscious of Cyrano's passion,
demand his protection for her lover, and nobly
Cyrano discharges his trust. When the foolish
Christian tries to pick a quarrel, Cyrano refuses
to be provoked by the most insulting references
to his nose and takes the boy to his arms. They
become inseparables, and Cyrano even writes
Christian's love-letters and sonnets to his
mistress's eyebrows, putting into them his whole
soul, and pleading for another as he would fain
have pleaded for himself. So well does he suc-
ceed that at last Eoxane declares, in a fervour
of poetic admiration, that she loves Christian
for his verses alone :

' Je t'aimerais encore
Si toute ta beaute tout d'un coup s'envolait! '

She would love Christian mhne laid, affreva,,
defigure, grotesque. Here, then, is a strange
situation. The only solution is Christian's
death. He is killed in battle a moment after
Eoxane has made this avowal to him and to
Cyrano, and so the fourth act closes. The fifth
shows us in infinitely pathetic scenes the long-
delayed discovery by Eoxaine, who for fifteen
years has mourned Christian as her poet-lover,
of Cyrano's noble deception. But it is made
too late. Cyrano is death-stricken, and Eoxane,
broken-hearted, can only cry :

' Je n'aima's qu'uu seul etre et je le perds
deux fois.'

Of the large humanity, the humour, the
pathos, and the dramatic effectiveness of the
play, such a brief and bcJd summary of the
plot can convey but a hint. The scenes in the
private theatre at the Duke of Burgundy's ; in
the shop of the pastrycook Eagueneau, whose
adoration of poetic genius makes every needy
poetaster of Paris his debtor ; in the French
cimp before Arras ; and in the peaceful convent
garden whither Eoxane has taken her woes of
widowhood— each is full of life aud poetry and
wit."

BOOKS EECETVED.

Week ending Thursday, April 7.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

A Treatise on the Preparation and
Delivery of Sermons. By John A.
Broadus, D.D. New (twenty-third) edition!
Hodder & Stoughton.

Divine Immanence: an Essay on i'he
Spiritual Significance of Matter. By
J. E.IUingworth, M.A. MacraUlan & Co.
7s. 6d.

Thoughts on the CfWECn. By the Eev.
Vernon Staley. Thos. Hibberd.

The Preparation for Christi^vnity in the
Ancient World. By E. M. Wenlev A
&C. Black. ^

A Harvest of Myrrh and Spices Gathered
FROM THE Mysteries of the Lord's
Passion. By WilUam H. Draper, M.A.
Henry Frowde.

The Christian Interpretation of Life,
AND Other Essays. By W. T. Davison,
M.A. Charles H. Kelly. 4s. 6d.

HISTOEY AND BIOGEAPHY.

The Holy Lance : an Episode of the
Crusades, and Other Monographs
By W. Stewart Eoss. W. Stewart & Co.

Henry of Guise, and Other Portraits.
By A. C. Macdowall. Macmillan & Co.
88. 6d.

The Story of the Empire Series: New
Zealand. By William Pember Eecves.
Is. 6d.

The Book of Glasgow Cathedral : a His-
tory and Description. Edited by George
Eyre-Todd. MorisonBros. (Glasgow).

POETEY, CEITICISM, BELLES LETTEES.

Prolegomena to "In Memoriam." By
Thomas Davidson. Isbister & Co. Is. 6d.

The Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver Gold-
smith. Service & Paton. 2s. 6d.

The Odes and Epodks of Horace. Trans-
lated by A. D. Godley. Methuen & Co.

AET.

The Eoyal Gallery of Hampton Court.
Illustrated by Ernest Law. George Bell &
Sons.

TEAVEL AND TOPOGEAPHY.

Studies in Brown Humanity : Being Scrawls
AND Smudges in Sepia, White, and
Yellow. By Hugh Clifford. Grant
Eichards. 6s.

Wealth and Wild Cats: Travels and
Eesearciies in the Gold-Fields of
Western Australia and New Zealand.
By Eaymond Eadclyffe. Downey & Co. Is.

EDUCATIONAL.

Black's School Shakespeare : King Lear.
By William Shakespeare. Edited by P.
Sheavyn, M.A. A. & C. Black. Is.

University Tutorial Series: Milton's
Paradise Eegained. Edited by A. J.
Wyatt, M.A. W. B. Olive. 2s. Cd.

Selections from Paradise Lost. Edited by
Albert Perry Walker. Isbister & Co.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Fur, Feather, and Fin Series : The
Salmon. By the Hon. A. E. Gathome-
Hardy. Longmans, Green & Co. 5s.

Sanitary Engineering. By Wm. Paul
Gerhard, C.E. Published by the Author
(New York).

ANNOUNCEMENTS.

In our last issue we inadvertently gave
the price of Mr. Guy Boothby's new novel,
Tiie Lust of Hate, as six shillings. It should
have been five shillings.

Messrs. Methuen will publish on 18th
April a new romance, by Mr. Crockett,
entitled The Standard Bearer. The hero is

the minister of a (ialloway parish. Tl
story opens with the persecution of tl
Covenanters in 1685.

The third volume of Messrs. Service
Paton's " Popular Biblical Library " will )
published immediately. It is entitled T.
Jlidory of Early Chriitianity, and is fro:
the pen of the Eev. Leighton Pullan, of S
John's College, Oxford.

Messrs. J. M. Dent & Co. wLU issi
this month a large paper edition of The Bii
JlMonj of the Jloly Grail, limited to 1/
copies, printed on hand-made paper, wil
proofs of Sir Edward Bume-Jones's illustn
tions on India paper.

The Rev. E. T. Mylne is about to publit
a voliuiie at gennons preached in Bangi
Cathedral, entitled Tfi^ Ahiding Strenffik
the Church. Mr. Mylne is a fellow of tl
Society of Antiquaries, and some of tl
sermons are on antiquarian subjects. Tl
work will be illustrated by four phot
graphs of antiquities, will have a preface 1
the head master of Eugby, and will 1
published by Mr. Elliot Stock.

Mr. William Heinemann writes to si
that the play, "The Master," about to 1
produced by Mr. John Hare, has no co:
nexion with the novel by Mr. I. Zangfwi)
who has in no way sanctioned the use of tl
title, though unable in the present state
the copyright law to substantiate his clai
to a title duly copyrighted as a book.

The concluding part of Mr. Will Eothe:
stein's series of English Portraits is a:
nounced for publication by Mr. Gra;
Eichards early in April, and will conta
drawings of Mr. E. B. Cunninghan
Graham and Mr. Henry James. Tl
portraits will then be issued in one volun
with cover and title-page by Mr. Eothe)
stein. It has been generally under8to(
that the notices which accompany tl
portraits have been the work of the artif
but a note to the volume expresses M
Eothenstein's thanks to " Messrs. Grai
Allen, William Archer, L. F. Austin, Ma
Beerbohm, Laurence Binyon, Vernon Blacl
bum, Edward Clodd, Canon Dixon, Edmur
Gosse, 0. L. Graves, John Gray, Laurem
Housman, Lionel Johnson, Clement Sliorte
and Prof. York Powell for the bii
graphical notices which accompany tl
portraits."

Mr. Grant Eichards announces tl
immediate jjublication of a new edition i
a poetical drama by the late Louisa Shor
This is Hannibal, a book which in i
day attracted a considerable amount i
attention.

The portfolio monograph on Gree
bronzes, to be published by Messrs. Seek
& Co. in the middle of April, is written b
Mr. Alexander Stewart Murray, keeper (
the Greek and Eoman antiquities at tb
British Museum, author of Greek Seulftui
under Fheidias, &c. The number will n
illustrated mainly from the collection c
bronzes in the British Museum, and ^
contain several that have not previousl,
been reproduced.

April 9, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY

407

LLIOT STOCK'S

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Cn demy 8vo, handsomely printed and bound, with a

Map of SheBSeld in 1780, price 10s. 6d. net ;

Large-Paper copies, £1 Is. net.

fic RECORDS of the BURGERY

of SHEFFIELD, commonly called THE TOWN
TRUST. By JOHN DANIEL LEADER. Fellow of
the Society of Antifinarios, one of the Town Trustees of
Sheffield, Ac.
A noble local record of far more than local importance."

Leeds Mercury.
Contains many cnrions and precious grains of informa-
1 with regard to the local life, customs, and institutions
?helfield, and even the public events of the time."

Scotsman,

A MEW NOVEL.

In crown 8vo, cloth, price Bs.

UTES and RIFTS. By Louisa

\ SAHN.

I HEW VOLUMES OF VERSE.

j In crown 8vo, cloth, gilt lettered, price 6s.

UNCONSIDERED TRIFLES.

I By GEORGE DALZIEL, Author of " Mattie Gray ; and
Other Poems," " Faces in the Fire," " Only a Flower
Girl," 4c., &c.

I have discovered a poet whom I can understand— Mr.
I rge Dalziel. No man can babble more prettily than he
( ;emini; lovely maidens and sweet things of the olden
It is a deep delight to hear him sing."

Morning Leader.

In crown 8to, cloth, price 3s. Od.

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April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

411

I CONTENTS.

kriKws : Page

The Romance of a Rock 411

The French Revolution through American Spectacles 412

IThe Rifle and the Pen 412

florae and Canterbiuy 413

The Building o7 the Empire 414

[V Baboo's Jest 414

ilBFKR Mp-XTIOM ... 416

!JB ACADKMV BCPPLRHRNT 417—420

TE8 AND News 421

kxTHAN Swift 423

|REE Barda or THE BrsH : I., Henrt Lawson- ... 424

fiK Fabler 425

E^is Letter 426

iK Week 426

K Book Market 427

[JVMA 428

IK Reviews Reviewed 429

KS Received , ,.. 430

REVIEWS.

THE EOMANCE OF A EOCK.

Senry
Canon

Memoir of Major- General Sir
?re»u)icke JRawlinson, Bart. By
feorge Eawlinson. (Longmans & Co.)

i^HE subject of this memoir went to India
as a cadet at the age of seventeen,
six years later became stafE-officer to
small band of Englishmen sent by the
apany to Persia to instruct the Shah's
iiy in European drill. He returned to
ijia in time to take part in the Afghan
of 1839, emd as political officer helped
successfully defend Candahar against
Ijza Ahmed's troops. At the end of the
he was appointed by Lord Ellen-
ough British Eesident at Bagdad, hold-
that post tiU 1855. On resigning the
'(jipany's service, he was nominated a
i^n director, and soon after entered
't lament, returning to Persia for a few
Kiths in 1859 as Her Majesty's Envoy
l^'aordinary. He resigned this post. when
lOjl John Eussell transferred the control of
relations with Persia from the India to
Foreign Office, and remained in P^ngland
arry and settle down until he died, full
3ars and honours, in 1895.
far, there is nothing to distingfuish
ir lenry Eawlinson from the hundreds of
icts of good family whose services have
V ys been, happily for us, at the disposal
le Queen in building up our great
re in the East. To most newspaper
srs of the present day he will be
nmbered only as the constant attendant
i tah Nasr-ed-din during his first visit to
a|and, and as one of the most strenuous
tviates of a policy of resistance to Eussia's
Iv ice toward India. Yet his most famous
h vement is quite unconnected with either
Mir diplomacy, and may make his name
m rtal when our squabbles with Persian,
fgan, and Eussian — nay, even our oceu-
.ti 1 of India — have ceased to be remera-
« . The story is so romantic that one is
aijed in telling it to travel a long way
)nj the sober narrative of the volume
fo(} us.

Ymg Eawlinson had, from the out-
his career, a taste for the history

and antiquities of Persia, a leaning which
he himself attributed to his conversations
with Sir John Malcolm on his first passage
to India, and when with the Shah's army he
chanced to be quartered at Kirmanshah in
Persian Kurdistan. Close to this stands the
Eock of Behistim, bearing on its face a tri-
lingual inscription which we now know to
be due to Darius Hystaspis, the restorer of
Cyrus' empire. The cuneiform or wedge-
shaped letters in which it is written had
long baffled aU attempts to decipher them,
Prof. Grotefend, of Copenhagen, having
perhaps come nearest to their solution.
Some part of this difficulty was no doubt due
to imperfect transcription ; but about 1836
Eawlinson contrived — as his brother says, at
the risk of life and limb — to climb the
almost inaccessible face of the rock, and to
copy the easiest of the three versions of the
inscription. A prolonged study of it enabled
him to pronounce it to be in the Persian
language, and in 1838 he succeeded in dis-
covering the system by which the Persian
words were reproduced in cuneiform
characters. The publication of the result
in the Journal of the Eoyal Asiatic
Society brought him the honorary member-
ship of half the learned societies in
Europe, together with the assistance
from older Orientalists which men of science
do not always bestow upon their younger
brethren. This success spurred him on to
fresh endeavours, and eleven years later he
paid another visit to Behistun, and managed,
with native help, to obtain a cast of another
text which had hitherto been supposed to be
out of human reach. This turned out to be
a translation of the first, still in cuneiform
characters, but in the Babylonian language ;
and the insight into the Babylonian sylla-
bary thus obtained enabled the discoverer
to translate most of the inscriptions which
his friend Layard had even then commenced
to dig up on the site of the ancient Nineveh.
The consequences reached further than
either explorer could have expected. Cunei-
form texts came to the surface in ever-
increasing numbers, and as they were
deciphered, historical documents of an
antiquity of which no one had till then
ventured to dream sprang to light. Archae-
ologists had hardly managed to digest the
evidence of a high civilisation among the
Semitic races of Assyria and Babylonia,
when it became plain that this was but a
legacy from the Sumerian (or, as they were
at first called, the " Akkadian ") inhabitants
of Mongoloid stock, with whom the Semites
had eariy intermingled. Every fresh ex-
cavation pushed the ascertainable dates of
history further back, until the recent
American expedition to Babylonia (see the
Academy of September 15, 1897) obtained
tablets relating to historical events occurring
in fiOOO B.C., or 1,000 years before the
highest date to which Egyptian history has
ever been gfuessed to extend. To a genera-
tion which had been taught to believe that
the Jews, or perhaps the Chinese, were the
first nation to emerge from the savage state,
such discoveries may wcU have seemed
incredible.

This, however, may be thought at first
sight to be an academic matter which can
only affect university professors or curators

of museums ; but almost the exact contrary
is the case. In theology alone the Assyrio-
logical discoveries have worked a change
so profound that had it not taken place
almost silently, it would long ago have been
hailed as a revolution. There is no need to
recapitulate all the theories of Biblical in-
spiration which have been held, from the
position of the enlightened Catholic who
held, like PhUo, that the religious value of
the Pentateuch was chiefly allegorical, down
to that of the sturdy Protestant who
believed, like Akiba, that every word of it
was in a special way dictated by God, and
written down in his own hand by Moses
himself. It is sufficient to say that, before
the decipherment of the cuneiform texts, the
legends of the Creation, the institution of
the Sabbath, the Garden of Eden, the Fall
of man, and the Deluge were considered by
Chri.stian8 of every sect to be parts of a
history revealed only to the Jewish nation
and preserved among them by supernatural
means. But now that it has been shown
that all these stories, with many accompani-
ments derived from their polytheistic re-
ligion, were inscribed on clay tablets by the
early inhabitants of Babylonia thousands of
years before Moses could have existed, it
is imfiossible, in the words of one of the
most determined opponents of the Higher
Criticism, to blind ourselves to the fact that
" the narrative is ultimately of Babylonian
origin." So, too, the recovery of the
annals of the kings who reigned at
Nineveh and Babylon during the period
covered by the Historical Books have
proved the Old Testament — not, indeed, to
bo untrue (for, in fact, all late discoveries
have abundantly verified its substantial
accuracy) — but to contain errors and omis-
sions which make it impossible for anyone
acquainted with the facts any longer to up-
hold the doctrine of verbal inspiration.
While, if this is the case with theology,
quite as sweeping a change has taken place
in the historical sciences. So far from the
history of the ancient world beginning with
Herodotus, we can now produce the chron-
icles of empires more highly organised than
was ever any Greek state — extending from
the Tigris to the Mediterranean, and going
back to dates millennia before that which
our fathers used to assign for the earliest
appearance of man upon the earth. In the
presence of such facts, we feel as the proo-
Copernican astronomers would have done
had they learned that the earth was not the
centre of the universe, but only a tiny and
unimportant speck in it. Yet all these
changes of thought are directly due to
Eawlinson's climb up the face of the
Beliistun rock.

No pains seem to have been spared to
make Canon Eawlinson's Memoir of his
great brother a worthy record, and, while
Lord Eoberts prefixes to it an introduction
in which, as may be expected, the late
Afridi rising and Sir Henry's warnings as to
the future of Afghanistan figure largely, the
present Baronet contributes a chapter of
reminiscences of his father's private life.
The task of compilation has not been an
easy one, for Sir Henry seems to have kept
diaries only in a spasmodic and disjointed
fashion, and to have been a bad hand at

413

THE ACADEMY.

[April 16, If

preserving correspondence, but in the result
ne stands out clearly as one of the best types
of the English soldier-statesman. Carrying
into his abstruse studies the dash which had
distinguished him in the field, he was yet too
much a man of the world to allow himself to
become absorbed by them; and it is recorded
that his greatest work. The Cuneiform Inscrip-
tions of Western Asia, became, before it left
the press, almost intolerably irksome to its
editor. As an official he was both active
and conscientious, never hesitating to resign
a post directly he thought he could not fill
it efficiently, and never sacrificing what he
considered to be the public interest to party
convenience. He seems, too, to have borne
his honours with grace, and to have been
popular with all classes of society; while
himself scrupulously just and honourable,
nothing ruffled him but some trace of mean-
ness or dishonour in those he had to deal
with.

All this and much more can be found
in the present memoir, and Sir Henry
Eawlinson seems to have been as lucky in
his biographer as in everything else. Luck
was, indeed, the never-failing attendant of
his life ; and though lucky in his career, in
his marriage, and in aU his undertakings,
he was never more lucky than in seeing the
science of which he laid the foundation
spring into vigorous life. Almost alone
among the pioneers of science, he had not
to leave the care of his fame to posterity,
but reaped its fuU reward during his own
life.

" Happier than our own ' Champoleon,' "
said M. Maspero in pronouncing his elegy to
the Academie des Inscriptions, " he had the
good fortune to live long enough to assist at
the full blossoming of the science he created.
If he had a long and hard struggle before being
certain of victory, at least he was able to enjoy
for a long time the glory which it gave him,
and which was his due."

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
THROUGH AMERICAN SPECTACLES.

Contemporary American Opinion of the French
Revolution. By Charles Downes Hazen.
(Baltimore : Johns Hopkins Press.)

The larger part of this work is composed of
extracts from the diaries and correspondence
of the tliree Ministers who successively
represented the United States in Paris
during the stormy period from 1784 to 1796.
All three were men of ability and distinction
— Thomas Jefferson, Governor Morris, and
James Monroe. AU three had intimate
opportunities of watching close at hand the
great changes which were passing over
France, and their letters, while curiously
reflecting the separate idiosyncrasies of the
writers, present a series of pictures which
are of singular interest. Jefferson, flamboy-
ant, humanitarian and theoretical, is ready
on the least provocation to flame out
on a priori grounds against kings and
priests and nobles; and yet when he
travels over France and examines the
condition of the peasantry has very little

to find fault with. Certainly, there is
no trace at all in his despatches of the
angry unhapjiiness which made Arthur
Young cry out against " the glittering
beings " whose neglect and oppression was
answerable for the misery he saw through
miles of country. While Young was ex-
claiming, "Oh! if I was the legislator of
France for a day I would make the great
lords skip again," Jefferson was expressing
his surprise at finding the people so com-
paratively well off. It was only when he
was thinking, not of the condition of French
agriculture, but of the French Monarchy,
that he would record that the nation was
" ground to powder by the vices of the form
of government." From first to last he took
an optimistic view of the changes which
were taking place before his eyes, and leav-
ing France within a few weeks of the taking
of the BastiUe, believed that the transfer of
supreme power from king to people would
be happily effected without bloodshed.
Some of his letters are written with con-
siderable pungency of style. Speaking of
the edict emancipating the Protestants, he
writes :

" The long delayed edict of the Protestants
at length appears here. It is an acknowledgment
that Protestants may beget children, and that
they can die and be offensive, unless buried. It
does not give them permission to think, to
speak, or to worship. What are we to think of
the condition of the human mind in a country
where such a wretched thing as this has thrown
the State into convulsions, and how must we
bless our own situation in a country, the most
ilUterate peasant of which is a Solon com-
pared with the authors of this law."

In view of Jefferson's tremendous denuncia-
tions of Marie Antoinette in his biography
written thirty years' later, it is interesting
to note what he had to say at the time. In
May, 1788, he writes: "The king, long in
the habit of drowning his cares in wine,
plunges deeper and deeper, the queen cries,
but sins on." On another occasion, he says,
" The queen and the princes are infatuated
enough to hazard almost anything." Cer-
tainly his letters contain very little to
support the opinion of his old age, that if
the queen could have been shut up in a
convent there would have been no revolu-
tion. Of the king, he always speaks as of
a man meaning very weU, but too weak to
be trusted of anyone. It is noticeable that
Jefferson, in spite of his somewhat violent
Republican theories, was always ready in
practice to counsel moderation and caution,
and, early in 1779, was of opinion that the
people had " had as full a measure of
liberty dealt out to them as they could
bear."

Jefferson was succeeded by a man of
a very different temperament. Governor
Morris was essentially conservative in his
bias, and his letters to Washington show a
very clear appreciation of the political
situation. He was a friend to monarchy as
an institution, believing that it was the
form of government most in harmony with
the traditions of the French people. This
view was certainly not determined by any
excessive regard for the king. Writing to
Washington, in 1790, he declares that the
royal cause might still be retrieved if Louis

were not " the small -beer character h
is." " But what will you have froi
a creature who, situated as he is, eat
and drinks and sleeps well, and laugh
and is as merry a grig as lives." Morri
gives graphic descriptions of the pre
ceedings of the Assembly, and numero
instances of the theatrical dilettantism wlii'
marked its debates. Some of these ai
sufficiently comic. On one occasion, wlu-
the subject of discussion was a proposi
by Nocker for a national bank, a deput
" took it into his head to move that evei
member should give his silver bucklr-
which was agreed to at once, and tl
honourable member laid his upon the tabl
after which the business went on again,
is difficult to guess whereabouts the fiw
will settle when it flies so wild. . .
Writing just before the trial of the kin]
Morris foretells the result correctly, ai
bases his prediction upon the fact that s
parties desire the death of the king. I
explains that all the monarchical ar
aristocratic parties join with the Jacobi:
on this point, believing " that such a cata
trophe would shock the national feeling
awaken their hereditary attachment, ai
ttim into channels of loyalty the impetuo
tide of opinion." Shrewd as Morris show
himself in his observation of political even
he shared the common illusion of the time
to the weakness of the armies of the Republ
and expected the speedy success of the alii
kings.

The appointment of James Monroe
Morris's successor in Paris, shortly af(
the fall of Robespierre, represents a fanio
passage in the history of American dip
macy which need not detain us he'
Monroe was a wild admirer of the Revol
tion, and the ajjologist for some of its wo
excesses, and watched the early triumphs
Napoleon without a suspicion of whatt
end was to be. His indiscretions caused 1
recall within less than two years. When
took his leave in 1 796 the President of t
Directory exclaimed, " The French Repub
expects that the successors of Columb:
Raleigh and Penn, always proud of th
liberty, will never forget that they owe
to France." And to this half truth
American might have replied with anotl:
that the debt was already repaid, that;
was the alliance with the revolted coloi i
which had undone the foundations of ;
monarchy of France.

THE RIFLE AND THE PEN,

Elephant Ranting in East Eqtiatorial Jfr ■
By Arthur H. Neumann. (Rowla
Ward.)

It is a sign of these literary times tha <•
man who has hunted and shot elephsi
should think it necessary to write a b''
about it. One would suppose that of
persons he might be excused. Yet apparer J
it is not so ; and here we have a volume'
456 spacious pages, and many illustraticl
devoted entirely to the account of '
author's career as a slaughterer. It matt i

iiothing that, however well he may be able
o pull a trigger, he cannot write anything
)ut ordinary commercial English, that he
las no eyes for the curious, no interest in
acial problems. Here is the book aU the
ame. There are, of course, hunters of big
:ame whose records are to be treasured—
Jr. Selous, for example, a keen observer of
oen and nature, a student of politics and
iistoms; but not such is Mr. Neumann
rho 18 a hunter pure and simple. He seems,
loreover, to be a hunter attended bv extra-
rdinaiy luck. It is true that in the part
f Africa m which he travelled— among the
Jdorobo savages of the Lorogi mountains,
■hich he north of Uganda, midway between
jakeEudolph and Mount Kenia— he was
mong the first to pursue his trade ; but the
upression left by his volume is that game
•as both plentiful, easily found, and easilv
illed. "^

"When a man has nothing to offer his
Jaders but the story of how he shot his big
ame, his book must necessarily become
lonotonous. Mr. Neumann's book is one
f the most monotonous that we have
rer read. A schoolboy's diary—" Got up
ashed, had breakfast," and so on, day
-ter day— is hardly less coloured. How
any rhinoceroses and elephants Mr. Neu-
ann slew we cannot say, but he must have
Jen responsible for ridding Africa of some
ores. The contest was horribly one-sided.
r. Neumann carried a double -577, a single
50, a -250 rook rifle, a shot-gun, a Martini-
enry, which he called his " cripple-stopper, ' '
id a Lee-Metford, and his aim was deadly.
Qce, indeed, Mr. Neumann was in danger
his life; but he escaped comparatively
ihurt. Against that single misadventure
3 put the photographs of his stores of
; sks, and register the opinion that, although
i3ry hunters may be the most estimable
<iss of men, they should not be called
non to magnify their prowess in print,
-us IS how the first elephant of the trip
' 18 kiUed : ^

were dl considered fair game. Here is a
taste of his unofficial manner :

Another day I came back to this plaia to
try to get a shot at the ostriches. I failed to
get near them, but, while trying, a giraffe came
towards me-apparently not seeing me, or mis-
taking me for something harmless, so I sat still
nff c ^»<l,^t^ked a little pa,t, some 150 yards
off, so that he sohd bullet I sent into it^ ribs
from my little Gibbs -460 might travel forward.
It galloped violently for about 200 yards, and
then, after staggering a little, plunged head
first, its hmd-quarters curiously standing up for
a second or two after its neck was on the
ground. It IS not often one has the chance
of seeing a giraffe fall plainly, as they are
generally shot among bush. More often thev
like most ammals, faU backwards when mor-
tally wounded."

On another occasion, Mr. Neumann shot
two lionesses, after having been baulked of
one in the foUowing inconsiderate manner :

i tried to get a shot, but it would not wait,
and with an irritable swing or two round
and lip of its tail, and sulky growls, made
on into the bush before I could get near
enough." However, the sportsman soon

wu'i ^^^^ *^° °*^®''^ ^^^ «l«w t^em.
While he was examining one of his victims
he heard a growl and, looking round, saw
that the other was not yet actually dead.

I at once gave her a raking shot from in
front of and above her, finishing her tough
life ; but before going right up to her and
kicking her, I chucked a stone on to her head
as a test." To have killed the creature was
enough. She might have been spared this
further indignity of description.

Just at the end of his book, Mr. Neumann
bethought him that possibly the Ndorobo
might have interest for some readers, and
he offers a page or so describing 'their
characteristics. There is a pleasant hint of
irony in the following passage :

She was, however, facing me, her great
i-8 stretched out or slowly flapping. I could
cly see her head and my object was to get a
fiiple shot. I waited, I thiuk not less than a
farter of an hour for her to turn her head.
<.ce I tned to sneak round farther, but she
8 i another next to her started and I slunk
u\ \?"PPose an eddy of wind gave them a
8?ht whifl of me, or they may have heard me
d.vmg; probably the latter, as they were not
Sjhciently alarmed to move when I kept still
a|im. I was not more than ten paces from the
x lu front of me, I should say, and meditated
' advisabihty of putting my bullet right into
* eye (which I felt sure I could do), but being
^^•ertam whether such a shot would be fatal
lim my position, and feeling that my reputa-
<i as a hunter, both with my own men and
-• natives of the country, would be blasted at
A outset should I make a failure of my first
; uce at elephants, I waited tiU my arms ached
jMn with holding my heavy gun at the ready,
ijlast, however, she did give me the longed-
C chance, ^d I instantly put a ball between
fl eye and the ear, dropping her Hke a

tfr. Neumann, although nominally an
Ihfaant hunter, was not bigoted. He never
e^a rhinoceros pass without trying for it
■n zebras and gazeUes, lions and giraffes

"In contrast with the natives of Southern
Africa, who cannot be said to have any notion
of a Supreme Being, these have a distinct belief
m God, and ascribe aU events to His ordering
Asked what they know of Him, they told me •
' We only know that He made all things. If it
rams, we say it is God ; when the wind blows,
we say here, too, is God ; and when the white
man comes, we say this again is God's doing.' "

Here let us leave our gallant hunter.

EOME AND .CANTERBURY.

A rindieation of the Bull " Apostolica Cura."
By the Archbishop and Bishops of the
Diocese of Westminster. (Longmans.)

It may be surmised that, for the present at
least, this controversy is laid to rest. What
has happened has been this : Representatives
of the High Church party made indirect over-
tures to Rome for tlie reconsideration of the
question of Anglican orders. Are the orders
of the Anglican Church orders in the sense
of the Roman Catholic Church ? Do they,
that is, imprint an ineffaceable character
upon the soul of the recipient, and invest
liim with a supernatural power of effecting
the change of bread and wine into the body

and blood of Christ in which consists the
sacrifice of the New Law ?-or is the ordina-
tion service merely a formal commission to
read the Book of Common Prayer in the
congregation? These were the questions
laid before the Papal tribunal. Rome
took the matter in hand, considered and
weighed, finaUy gave her decision. Said
the Pope in the Bull Aposfolica Curm : The
immutable principles of the Church's theo-
logical science do not permit us to regard
your orders as a sacramental thing. Setting
aside the controversy as to a breach in the
line of the succession — granting, if you will,
that Parker was consecrated according to
some rite, since the controversy upon that
point seems infinite— we find that the
changes by which the Anglican ordinal
was evolved from the Catholic rite, which it
superseded, were all in one direction. They
all tended to eliminate every expression
which implied the power of sacrifice as
inherent in the priestly office. The
published writings of your founders, and
the construction of your office for the
celebration of Holy Communion, are in
harmony with this change in the ordination
services. It is clear to us, then, that the
intention of the Anglican Church in the
bestowal of (what it calls) orders positively
excludes the sacrificial notion, which to us
is the whole raison d'etre of the priesthood.
Therefore Anglican ordinations are (accord-
ing to the principles of our theology —
principles which must be taken as estab-
lished) absolutely null and void from the
beginning.

The Anglican Primates of England under-
took to reply, and they set before them-
selves a difficult task. They had to convince
the Catholic Bishops of Christendom, to
whom their letter was addressed, that the
Pope was mistaken in his estimate of the
Anglican teaching upon the Eucharist —
that their Church does in fact teach, and
has ever taught, the real presence and
the mystical unbloody sacrifice. At the
same time they must make it clear to the
evangelical and latitudinarian sections of
their own communion that they stand fast
by the traditional principles of the Reforma-
tion. And this is what we mean when we
say that the controversy has a comic side.
The attempt seems all of a piece with the
policy popularly called " Jesuitry " , and
here you have the popish disputants sweep-
ing away sophistries and demanding a plain
answer (though, surely, not simple enough
to expect one) to a straightforward question.
After quoting certain of the Archbishops'
equivocal words, " These phrases," they
say,

"which are somewhat inaccurately quoted from
your First Prayer-book, you seem to be using in
Cranmer's sense [reoeptionalism]. . . . No
doubt both these phrases might be understood
in a more catholic sense. But it appears to us
inconceivable that, if you had really wished to
ascribe to your Church belief in a Real Objective
Presence, you would have failed to say so with
the utmost distinctness, for this is the very
turning-point of the question. ... If, then, we
have mistaken your meaning in the passage
referred to, will you frankly say so ? "

That the Archbishops should give a direct
reply to this question while their communion

414

notoriously embraces men of every shade
of opinion between Zmnglianism and the
Tridentine definition, was, of course, not to
be expected. There was scope for specula-
tion only as to the device by which the
Metropolitans might pluck their feet out
of the net. In their subsequent brief letter
to the Archbishop of Westminster, The
Church of England," they write, "has
clearly stated her position with respect to
this doctrine [transubstantiation], a,nd it is
unnecessary to say that we heartily and
firmly concur in the judgment which she
has pronounced." Of course, the evasion
Ues in the use of the word transubstantia-
tion, which in the main Une of their argu-
ment the Eoman bishops had been caretul
to avoid. For from the days of Tract XC.
it has been open to members of the OhurcH
of England to hold that the Transubstantia-
tion condemned in the Thirty-nine Articles
connotes something else than the notion
for which the Council of Trent adopted
the word as the most fitting name. Thus
the snare is broken and the Archbishops
are delivered; and the scandal of an in-
ternal rupture is once more procrastinated.
By a series of accidents the two com-
munions have been brought as near as they
are ever likely to approach each other.
Henceforward they will go on their several
ways: the older still piling up fresh conse-
quences upon its old-world lore ; the younger
shaking ofE more and more the ties by
which it is bound to a pre-scientific era,
and assimilating with more and more
alacrity the wisdom of the passing moment
— the one growing stiffer in the assurance
of a divine mission and the possession of
final truth; the other relying always for
continued life upon racial ties and its in-
definite adaptability.

THE ACADEMY.

[Apeix 16, 1898.

THE BUILDING OF THE EMPIRE.

The Building of th Umpire. By Alfred
Thomas Story. 2 vols. (Chapman
& HaU.)

To the task of adequately teUing the
story of England's growth from Elizabeth
to Victoria the historian must bring a
universal knowledge of modem history, a
comprehensive grasp of detail, and a wide
and statesmanlike insight into the past, the
present, and the future. It would be
exaggeration to say that Mr. Story has
these qualifications ; but, at any rate, he
has written two very interesting volumes,
and has sketched the lines which the
historian of the empire will follow.

The primary cause of England's world-
wide expansion is, of course, her island
position in the spot most convenient for the
departure of the trade routes from the Old
World to the New ; but only after the
discovery of America did England's true
mission in the world become apparent, and
even then it was some time before she
accidentally discovered her destiny. It was
the loss of Calais which really turned
England from a continental to a world-
wide power. Mr. Story begins his book
with the England of Elizabeth, and with

the splendid tale of the Queen s semi-
authorised adventurers, who graduaUy broke
the power of Spain, tiU then mistress
of the sea. The Spaniards were the
first adversaries of the empire - makers
along the shores of America. Then we
came into collision with the Portuguese
in the Indies, where we gained a footing
in 1611 by Captain Best's naval victory
near Surat. After the Portuguese came the
Dutch, whose interference with our trade
among the islands forced us back on
the mainland of India, where we took up
the struggle with the French, with whom
we fought out the race for empire, also, in
America and the West Indies, until at the
close of the Napoleonic wars the country had
grasped its destiny and was supreme at sea.
Mr. Story has been overmastered by the
very magnitude of his subject, which has
rather depressed than inspired him. But
Mr. Story gets entangled in the threads and
smothered in a mass of detail. He has no
steady grasp of his subject ; the descriptions
of the Elizabethan voyages are too full, and
the reader is left to find out for himself
their connexion with the growth of the
empire. The same thing may be said of
the first settlements in America, whose
history is given without much regard to
its reference to the great central idea.

Another defect of the work is that Mr.
Story writes not as one who has had a share
in the doing of great deeds, but from a
sheltered and home-keeping point of view ;
and as empires are not made by squirting
rose-water, this is not the attitude which
will be taken up by the ideal historian when
he appears. Drake and his feUow seamen
were rough-and-ready men, living in rough-
and-ready times, and many of their actions
were not those of the drawing-room, but
they hardly justify Mr. Story uttering such
platitudes as :

" There is no need at this time of day for any
apology for the motives and actions of the
seamen of Elizabeth's age. They lived and
fought as seemed to them best, and according
to their lights and the circumstances in which
they hved. . . . They might have done other-
wise than they did if they had had our wisdom
to guide them. But they were the rough
children of a rude age, for the most part coarse
and uncultured ; nevertheless, they had that
within them which made our later England
possible."

name of Mr. Ehodes, the greatest empire-
maker of modem times, who has fadded
territories as large as France to the British,
Empire. This will give the measure of Mr
Story's qualifications for dealing with sc
vast a subject. But in spite of his limita-
tions he has produced a useful and Tsug
gestive book, which wiU fill the gap tUl th(
imperial historian comes. The volumes an
well - illustrated with reproductions of ok
prints, which give, as nearly as possible, i
contemporary representation of the event
and scenes referred to.

Or a little later on, about Clive and Omi-
chund :

"This is an attitude which has been too
common in the past in the dealings of the
English with subject races. In short, in the
building up of the British Empire as it is to-
day they have often enough sunk right in
expediency ; but if that Empire is to continue
to stand, it will only be by buttressing it on
every side with justice."

This is what the maiden aunt of the mid-
Victorian period would have called "quite
nice," and is evidently a salve to Mr. Story's
conscience for having to write about such
rude people. But while empire -making at
a distance is to be gently reprobated, at close
quarters it is evidently positively shocking.
It will scarcely be believed that though Mr.
Story professes to bring his work up to the
present day, he does not even mention the

A BABOO'S JEST.

Ths Stylography of the Engli-h Language. B
Dr. Brojonath Shaha, I. M.S. (Calcutta
Patrick Press Co.)

Dr. Brojonath Shaha is a learned pund

in the Indian Medical Service who hf

written books upon various subjects palp

tating with actuality, such as " The Lush:

Language," " Dehatmic Tattva," "Materi(

Spiritualism," and "Capillary Bruit." 1

the midst of all this he has found time ■

make a jest. In a conversation between hii

and the head master of a Government hoarc

ing school at Rangamati, the latter expressc

a very natural opinion that you cannot teac

parsing and analysis to students who ha'

not a previous knowledge of the meaning c

the words of a sentence. Thereupon D

Brojonath Shaha went away and wrote

book to prove that you can. That is tl

jest. It is very funny. You do it by tumii

sentences into quasi-mathematical formul

The whole theorj- depends upon observatio

" and scarcely any deeper intellectual co

sideration has been its scope." The elemei

of structure are two bricks or stones— t

Noun-stone and the Verb-stone— and t

first type of arrangement consists of t

mono-simple sentence, which is " the altem

juxtaposition of the N and F bricks to t

extent of the 9th Term— i.e., four and

half pairs of them — unless increased by t

same altemate an-angements by the additi

of IV or IV I N and PV or PVJ N-i.

10th, or 10th and 11th terms." From tl

easy beginning you work up with the (

of "joiners" and " sub- joiners" to Sy

metrical Mono-grouped Conjimction, and

Complex of P by c' C" Subordinate (

ordinate. Ultimately— until, it would appe

without a previous knowledge of the met

ing of words in a sentence — you are able

express the first ten lines of the Paradise I

as P, t R«. — 2 C's ^ N ? 1 E'3 3E", 2C

and to answer an examination paper c(

taining such questions as these :

" Write down from your book a comp
P C« substitutive subordination, a Di-comp
with C« P C' substitutive subordination.

Give an example of a Mono-simple »
increase in the Ist, 3rd, or any odd term
N, of Capacity intervened by a oomma-c ■
nective with G and E formula).

Illustrate mono-simple sentences each »
increased terms, joiners, or sub-jomers
spectively with intervention of mono-grou.
conjunction connectives and punctmi

Arnn, 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

415

lumas if necessary. Give their G F and
F."

eeping up the humour of the thing to the
st, Dr. Brojonath Shaha writes with
iaking sides a solemn introduction in which
t expounds the theory and value of stylo-
iuphy, and ends up with the following
illy at the expense of his mathematical
lUeag^es :

I" The chief utility of this vo7-k, besides the
ospicuousuess on points of philology, is a
lip to memory, recitation, and composition by
pwinjt forth gradual landmarks in each. This
uld, I may venture to say, be a great gain to
dents ; while the teachers will derive the
ue amount of relief in their works during
) hours of literature as they do now when
ij^ged in teaching mathematics. How far I
i.'e succeeded iu giving mathematical reason-
|- or philological demonstration of any writing,
<iains for the student to grasp or the teacher
((impress upon the student, but all I desire is
It they should not desert this method of
i^iitific der)ionatriitio7i tm they find it practically
[jless or beyond juvenile comprehension, or
1 the teacher cannot invent modifictvtion and
I lition more intelligible."

s a noble jest. Excellent Baboo !

BRIEFER MENTION.

de and the Tudor Navy. By Julian S.
lorbett. (Longmans, Green & Co.)

, OME six-and-thirty years ago, the late
James Anthony Froude wrote an article
he Westminster Review which he entitled
Dgland's Forgotten Worthies." And
r mg those worthies which were forgotten
i!ie fifties were Hawkins, Frobisher, Sir
ki lard Grenville, and Drake. It must be
d.itted that later years have done some-

I g to atone for such forgetfulness. Both
i: Richard Grenville and Drake have
)i id a Homer ; nor has there been any
i( of writers to celebrate the exploits of

II gallant gentlemen whom commerce,
)l:ion, or politics, drove forth to the
piish Main, to the East Indies, or the
[< ;h-We8t Passage. It was Froudo, witli
if enthusiasm for Tudor England, who
r< ' from oblivion those merchant venturers
i£ conscious of their own rectitude, gave
ro the glory when a Spanish treasure ship
ro;ed their bows; and for tliis, if for
o1 ing else, his memory should be blessed,
u Froude, as we have been so often told,

accurate. His style continually got the
et r of his facts. And we are almost sorry
laithe same accusation cannot be brought
^ilist Mr. Corbett, who, evidently with
iinnse labour, has gathered together
01 every available source all that is
ncn of Drake.

I the third chapter of the first of these
eo bulky volumes you may compare the
etDds of Mr. Froude and Mr. Corbett.
It ing of the expedition which led to the
fh at San Juan de Ulua, Froude says

lis Jinglish Seamen: The Judith was
ro^^ht in "byhis[Hawkins'8] young cousin
ra^;is Drake, who was now to make his
•st ppearance on the stage. . . . Enough

now to say he was a relation of Hawkins,
the owner of a small smart sloop or brigan-
tine, ambitious of a share in a stirring
business," Mr. Corbett relentlessly points
out that this is a bit of impressionism, for it
was not Drake's first appearance, the ship
was neither a sloop nor a brigantine, but a
bark, it was probably owned by Hawkins,
and Drake had no idea of any stirring
business, because Hawkins kept his desti-
nation a dead secret. Mr. Corbett is no
doubt accurate, but of his accuracy in matters
of naval teclmique we do not presume to
judge. We are as ignorant as Mr. Froude
of the difference between a bark and a
brigantine, nor does it appear to be of much
importance whether the Judith was owned
by Drake or by Hawkins. What is of
importance — we are looking at the book
from a literary point of view — is that
our blood should be stirred and our
pulse quickened as we read. Take
tlie coming of the Armada, to which Mr.
Corbett devotes several chapters. Here is
a prose epic to be written. But our pulse
drops, our blood congeals, as we are stopped
short in mid-story to contemplate lists of
ships, and leam that the Spanish method
of calculating tonnage was different from
the English. It is true that there is a
catalogue of ships in another epic ; but the
Iliad would be better reading without it.
If you read those chapters of Mr. Corbett's,
skipping judiciously, and then sit back in
your chair and think, you will have a pretty
good picture of that running fight up the
Channel ; but Mr. Corbett should have
drawn that picture, and shovelled his paint
and brushes and mahl-stick into an appendix.
The threads of the story are all there,
and Mr. Corbett is entitled to praise for his
industry in collecting them. It is in the
last step tliat lie disappoints us — in the
weaving of the threads together into a
texture. He has composed an excellent
Admiralty minute on the Tudor fleet — its
organisation, its tonnage, its manning, its
victualling, and so forth. He has collected
all the materials for a book ; but he has
not written it.

Twelce Naval Captains. With Portraits.
By Molly EUiot Seawell. (Kegan Paul.)

We venture to assure Mrs. (?) Seawell that
her hope that " English youth wiU not
resciit the fact that many of these worthies
earned their reputations in conflict with the
mother country " has a fair chance of being
realistid. She tells the stories of her heroes
in au admirable tone of impartiality; she
has a serviceable command of nautical
language, and for anything smacking of the
heroic a bright enthusiasm that is quite con-
tagious. Nothing can come of her revela-
tion of the American seaman — for to the
human boy of these islands a revelation it
wUl be — but increased respect and goodwill ;
just as his respect for the Australian colonies
lias been increased by the misfortunes of
Mr. Stoddart's eleven. Take this, for in-
stance :

" Captain Dacres, of the Ouerriere [a French-
built frigate iu the British service], and Hull

were personal friends . . . and tliere was a i i j- • l-

standing bet of a hat between them on the re- | There is a strain of special pleading in this ;

suit in case their two ships ever came to ex-
changing broadsides."

They came to close quarters at last, and
the Guerriere was hopelessly worsted.

The mainmast soon followed the other masts,
and in thirty minutes from the time the Cmitti-
tution's first broadside had been fired the
Ouerriere lay, a helpless hulk, rolling in the
trough of the sea. ..."

The jack had been nailed to the stump
of the mizzen mast, .ind the men refused to
loose it, but the signal of surrender was
made by a gun to leeward :

" As Captain Dacres came over the side of
the Constitution, Hull . . . gave the British
captain a hand, saying with great friendliness,
' Dacres, I see you are hurt. Let me help you.'
As soon as Captain Dacres reached the Conatitu-
fion'a deck, he attempted to hand his sword to
Hull, who said ; ' No, no ; I cannot take the
sword of a man who knows so well how to use
it ; but— I'll thank you for that hat I ' "

And this in spite of the fact that, in the beat
of the engagement, his breeches (he was
unnecessarily stout) had split from knee to
hip. You cannot bear malice against an
enemy of that sort, you know. A capital
collection of yarns.

Thomas Cranmer. By Arthur James Mason,
D.D. "Leaders of Religion." (Methuen.)

This is a study rather than a biography ;
but it is a study based upon a first-hand
acquaintance with Archbishop Cranmer's
own letters and writings, as well as upon
such trustworthy and exhaustive works as
Mr. R. W. Dixon's History of the Reformation.
Canon Mason writes of Cranmer in a far
more appreciative spirit than has frequently
been observed in modern so-called " High "
Churchmen in dealing with the great Re-
formers. He goes far towards making a
hero of his subject. Yet the book is by no
moans uncritical, and it seems to us to draw
a very fair picture of Cranmer alike in his
personal and his public relations. It is
written in a lucid and an interesting fashion.
The summary of Cranmer's character given
in the last chapter is singularly penetrative
and just. Canon Mason breaks a lance on
behalf of the Archbishop's lona fides :

" Whatever else he was, Cranmer was no
crafty dissembler. He was as artless as a child.
Even those actions of his which have brought
upon him the accusation of double-dealing — the
reservation with which he took the oath at his
consecration, the acknowledgment that he should
not have withdrawn his recantation if he had
been allowed to live — are instances of his naive
simplicity. He may sometimes have deceived
himself ; he never had any intention to deceive
another. Trustful towards others, even to
a fault, he had little confidence in him-
self. Ilis humility amounted almost to a
vice. His judgment was too easily swayed by
those who surrounded him — especially by those
in authority. In this way he frequently d d
or consented to things imposed upon him by
others which he would never have thought of
by himself. He sheltered himself under the
notion that he was a subordinate, when by
virtue of his position he was necessarily a
principal, and was svu-prised, and sooietimes
even irritated, that others did not see things in
the same light."

THE ACADEMY.

fAraiL 16, 1898.

but. on the whole, it strikes us as a true
estimate of an honest but not very strong
man Canon Mason's book quite sustains
the high reputation of the series in which
it appears.

The Records of the Borough of Northampton
Edited by Christopher A. Markham and
Eov. Charles J. Cox. (Elliot Stock.)

The Corporation of Northampton decreed,
some years ago, the publication of the
records of their borough. These now come
to us in two substantial volumes, buckram
bound, and bearing the arms of the town,
and the motto, CasteUio Forttor Concordia.
The Bishop of London has contributed a
preface; tLe title-pages are printed in
black and red ; and the volumes, in short,
lack no element of dignity. An introduction
by Mr. W. Eyland D. Adkins prepares the
ground for the reader, who is reminded that
Northampton became important only at the
Norman Conquest. Halfway between Win-
chester and York, halfway also between the
"Welsh Marches and the East Coast, North-
ampton was the predestined stronghold of
Norman and Plantagenet kings. Between
the arrival of the Conqueror and the com-
pletion of his Domesday Book, the town
increased from 60 to 330 houses. Thence-
forward its progress was steady. One fact
in Northampton's early history arrests the
reader. During the Barons' War the
students of both Oxford and Cambridge
fled thither, and a university was founded
under royal sanction. It might have been
there to this day, but Oxford was strong
enough to crush the arrangement in 1262.
We can do no more than point out that
these volumes display, in orderly sequence,
every record of importance pertaining to
the civic progress of Northampton. They
will be of real service to students of English
municipal history. One is glad to find the
corporation of a comparatively small town
carrying to a successful issue a project so
enlightened.

Library Administration. By John Mac-
farlane. "Library Series." (George
AUen.)

goneraUy profound, may learn much from
so comprehensive and lucid a survey ; and
the manual, together with the companion
volume by Mr. Burgoyne on Library Con-
struction, should be in the hands of every
practical librarian, and of every municipal
body which contemplates a free library.

Lincoln. By the Eev. A. Clark, M.A.
" College Histories." (F. E. Eobinson.)

This is a useful work upon a technical and
highly difficult subject, written by an ex-
pert. It deals with the organisation of the
staff of a library, with the methods of
acquiring, preserving and issuing books,
and with the various competing systems of
cataloguing and shelf-arrangement. It is,
of course, as Dr. Garnett points out in the
brief introduction which he contributes, " a
disseminator of information " and " a
stimulus to reflection," rather than a " code."
And this is necessarily so, for many of the
topics treated of, the best way to draw up a
subject-index, for instance, are stiU debate-
able and hotly debated. Necessarily also,
it embodies largely the views and ex-
perience of the British Museum, of which
Mr. Macfarlane is an active official. But he
has taken great pains to supplement his
knowledge of the methods more immediately
familiar to him by careful inquiries into
the practice of the Bodleian and of the
great foreign libraries. The laymen, whose
jgnorance of library administraiioi; is

Two or three Oxford colleges— Corpus,
Merton, Pembroke come to mind — have
already adequate histories issued by the
Oxford Historical Society. In the rest,
although as a rule there are ample materials
for a record of the past, these remain in the
obscurity of archives, and are not put to
their proper purpose of stimulating the
piety of the present. Mr. Eobinson pro-
poses in a series of twenty-one volumes to
remove this reproach. Each college will
now have its monograph, entrusted to a
competent hand, if possible a member of
the foundation, and liberally illustrated with
views and plans. A similar series will deal
with the sister University. The enterprise
opens well, for no more competent writer
of a college history could well be imagined
than Mr. Clark, who, through his long work
on Anthony a Wood and Aubrey, and on
the University Eegister, must be thoroughly
steeped in Oxford sentiment and Oxford
tradition. He has produced a most excellent
and interesting narrative, popular in the
sense that it is only a narrative, and that
the documents on which it is founded are
not printed, or even, as a rule, referred to,
but by no means merely popular if that
implies anything shallow or superficial in
the treatment. Lincoln was originally
founded, early in the fifteenth century, by
Eichard Fleming, Bishop of Lincoln, who
intended it to be a bulwark of the true
faith against the heresies of the Wycliffites.
It has never been a college of the first rank,
but during the greater portion of its career
has, nevertheless, borne an honourable
reputation. Mr. Clark traces the fortunes
of the foundation down to the present day,
noting its occasional appearances upon the
stage of history, its notable men, the growth
and architectural peculiarities of its build-
ings. He finds its golden age in the middle
of the eighteenth century, when its wealth
had been increased by the benefactions of
Lord Crewe, while its common-room was
illustrated by the commanding intellect of
John Wesley. Over the troublous days of
the present century, the period covered by
that extraordinary autobiography of Mark
Pattison, Mr. Clark passes very gingerly.
Of Pattison himself he tells two characteristic
stories. One is given in the words of an
old Lincoln parson :

hand, threw it in the man's face, and pointed i
the door."

The other story is of a youth whor
Pattison invited to accompany him on
walk:

" A timid undergraduate waited at the lodf
ings at the appointed hour, followed the rect
across the quadrangle, and then, when the t»
had stepjwd out through the wicket, essayed
literary opening to the conversation by volui
teering ' the irony of Sophocles is greater tht
the irony of Euripides.' Pattison seemed lo
in thought over the statement and made i
answer till the two turned at Iffley to cor
back. Then he said, ' Quote.' Quotations n
being forthcoming, the return and the partii
took place in silence."

But surely the historian of the future w
have to beware of the contamination of C
Pattison mythos by the Jowett mythos, ai
vice versa.

We recommend Mr. Clark's volume
the patriotic purses of all Lincoln men.

'• Coming to Oxford on some business I took
the opportunity of looking up Pattison in
the evening. He received me very cheerfully,
offered me a cigar, and lit one for himself. He
was standing on the heirthrug with his back to
the grdte, chatting away, when there came a
timid knock at the door, and an imdergraduate
entered with a sheet of paper in his hand,
theme or composition of some sort. Pattison
beckoned the man to come forward, took the
sheet, and looked over it, puffing slowly at his
cigar. Then he crumpled the paper up in his

Islands of the Southern Seas. By Michf
Myers Shoemaker. (Putnam's Sons.)

" So — if you are minded for such a jaunt
let us be off, for the ship is ready." T
jaunt alluded to in Mr. Shoemaker's too, t
sprightly preface starts from San Francis
The traveller touched at Molokai, and
fleeted in terms of unimpeachable comme
place upon the career of Father Damie
of course he photographed the tomb an(
lot of other things. He did Hawaii a
Honolulu, saw the lions and photograpl
them; was " very glad to get back to
hotel." He visited Samoa ; a photograph
Stevenson's tomb is evidence. The jai
presently interested itself in New Zeala:
in the Maories and their tattooing— m
interesting subjects of the kodak. 1'
prisons of Port Arthur are gruesom'
treated. The horrid traditions of the p ;
are perpetuated— the tradition, for instan
of the men who to ward o£E insanity occup :
the hours of the confinement in the di ;
cells in searching for a pin flung at rand i
upon the floor ; and several excellent phc ■
graphs illustrate the scenes of these horp .
Australia, poetically described as '"i)
Land of the Never Never "—but why ?- i
found to be a place of extreme interest. )
to its political condition and its relation w i
the mother country, here is what Mr. bn-
maker had time to find out :

"The different sections of th« Contiit
govern themselves, England merely senc?
out a Governor-General for each, but h'S
little more than a flgure-head. . . • '
my thinking, Australia is a coUection i
republics. There is no military rule f
England, and I saw no British soldiers m^
the land. England does not demand soWs
from Australia, but AustraUa has oncef
twice sent her men to the assistance of

Mother Country in times of war. The provii »
have theu- own navies, though I did see a
British ships of war."
Extraordinarily observant person, Mr. SI •
maker! Much of his time was spent
Java, and some admirable photographs c!
of it. The book is one of those of wbicli »
impatient reviewer is wont to say m
haste that it has not a dull page from c.'
to cover.

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

SATURDAY, APRIL 16, 1898.

»THE NEWEST FICTION.
A GUIDE FOE NOVEL EEADEES.
E Bishop's Dilemma. By Eixa D'Aecy.

[headers of the Yellow Book will remember that Miss D'Arcy's
jne usually accompanied a clever story, hence they may be pre-
ed here for something better than common. The Bishop in
^stion controUod the Eoman Catholic diocese of West London.

was worldly and his name was Wise, and his dilemma was
her Fayler, a conscientious young priest. To learn the fortunes
'ather Fayler it wiU be necessary to read this brief novel, but
may just hint here that Mary Deane played her part in them,
nan Catholics will not like the story over much. (John Lane.

pp. 38. 6d.)

VoMAJf IN Grey.

By Mrs. C. N. Williamson.

long novel by the author of The Barn-Sfonners. The story is
i at Lorn Abbey, and is replete with clock-towers, and corridors,
1 ghostly manifestations, and supposed murder : in the end a
lily mystery is unravelled, and the woman in grey, revealed as a

nal woman with a sad story, elects to wear other colours than

, and indulge other than morbid moods. (Eoutledge & Sons.

pp. 6s.)

COAT Eomances.

By E. Livingston Prescott.

liven short .stories of Army life, by the author of Scarlet and
The first tells how Tommy Eobins of the White Guards,

pegrace, but an excellent soldier at bottom, was promoted to a
Dral by sheer mistake, and made good his appointment by
"ming. "Judgment by Default," "Sentry-Go," and "The

-Eyed Babe : a Eomance of a Junior Subaltern," are all
111 readable stories. (F. Wame & Co. 288 pp. Ss. 6d.)

ear's Exile.

By George Bourne.

(orge Bourne, we should guess, is, like many Georges, a

ii m. The novel is of the private life of medical men, and is

31 r and cynical. How Dr. Mitchell loved a patient's wife, and

)\ lie set out to poison the patient and so remove an awkward

cle, but repented — with this a large portion of the book

. But there is much more beside, and many reflections on

nd art which are well worth reading, and some good charac-

tion. (John Lane. 230 pp. Ss. 6d.)

la Little Bill of Sale.

By Ellis J. Davis.

T 3 money-lender is having a bad time just now. Select com-
itl 38 and novelists are bent on curbing him. In this book the
itlr endeavours "to expose some of the tricks of the money-
QC ig fraternity, who thrive upon bills of sale under those wonder-
1 eces of legislative incompetency known as the Bills of Sale
cti 1 878 and 1 882." The writhings of poor Tomkins in the hands
c 0 Sleimy, from whom he has borrowed £30 on a bill of sale,
id 51eimy's ultimate discomfiture, are described with spirit and
ess. (John Long. 229 pp. 3s. 6d.)

ea:

IcHELOR Girl in London.

By S. E. MrrroN.

8 story of the fortunes of Judith Danville, a struggling young
ioumalist, is a carefid representation of a phase of modem
liich is not yet staled in fiction. The story is wholly laid in
on(.n, and the policeman, and the cabman, and the 'bus-conductor,
id le Embankment lights, are ever present ; while the hero is by
) r lans unspotted from the London world. (Hutchinson & Co.
ok 68.)

REVIEWS.

Tales of Unrest. By Joseph Conrad. (T. Fisher Unwin.)

Mr. Conrad has seen strange things in strange lands, and he can
describe what he has seen impersonally, incuriously, without senti-
mentality, and without wailing. He is not eloquent, and hysteria
is unknown to him; but he has grit, and the epithets "nervous,
artful, buxom," also describe his English. These tales, like his last
fine book. The Nigger of the Narcissus, march straight on ! where they
are tragic the tragedy was inevitable. The artist selects and tells.
That selection is his concern and his alone. Things horrid and inex-
plicable may happen, and it is not his affair to suggest why heaven
remains sealed and imanswering any more than it is his business to
explain why illusions are often better aids to living than the naked
truth. He tells, and the critic's business is with the sincerity and
method of presentment, not with the choice of subject. We rise
from the reading of these Tales of Unrest strengthened, not
depressed. For the work is sincere, and it deals with realities.

Mr. Conrad is a writer's writer. He is for those who joy in a
good sentence, a deft characterisation, or the way the knots of an
exposition are tied. But these tales must not be taken with a
hop, skip, and a jump. Those who want brisk dialogue and
breathless action must go elsewhere. You must assimilate his
background, if you would grasp the significance of the figures that
dot his middle distance. Mr. Conrad is a painter in landscape
who could have worked entirely in genre, but he chose the other.
Like the great landscape artists, he brings equal facility to a sunset
or to a man working in a field, and the man is real, part of the
harmony, not a lay figure dumped down as a sop to those who
clamour for " human interest." For example, let us take a passage
from the story called " The Lagoon."

" Nothing moved on the river but the eight paddles that rose flashing
regularly, dipped together with a single splash ; while the steersman
swept right and left with a periodic and sudden flourish of his blade
describing a glinting semicircle above his head. The chiuned-up water
frothed alongside with a confused murmur. And the white man's canoe,
advancing up-stream in the short-lived disturbance of its own making,
seemed to enter the portals of a land from which the very memory of
motion had for ever departed. . . . The men poled in the shading
water. The creek broadened, opening out into a wide sweep of a
stagnant lagoon. The forests receded from the marshy bank, leaving a
level strip of bright green reedy grass to frame the reflected blueness of
the sky. A fleecy pink cloud drifted high above, traiUng the deUcate
colouring of its image under the floating leaves and the silvery blossoms
of the lotus. A little house, perched on high piles, appeared black in the
distance. . . .

" The steersman, pointing with his paddle, stdd, ' Arsat is there. I sea
his canoe fast between the piles.' "

Three of the stories treat of life in the Eastern Archipelago,
where "green islets scattered through the calm of noonday lie upon
the level of a polished sea, like a handful of emeralds on a buckler
of steel." Of these " Karain : a Memory " is the longest and the
most ambitious. It is the story of a noble and masterful Malay,
and how he was cured by a young Englishman of a terrible illusion
on the principle that like things are cured bj* like. The ruse is
quite successful. " He left us, and seemed straightway to step into
the glorious splendour of his stage, to wrap himself in the illusion
of unavoidable success." Here is a picture of a Dutch trader. It
is Karain who is speaking :

" He traded and planted. He despised our joys, our thoughts, and
our sorrows. His face was red, his hair like tlame, and his eyes pale,
like a river mist ; he moved heavily and spoke with a deep voice ; ho
laughed aloud like a fool, and knew no courtesy in his speech. He was
a big, scornful man, who looked into women's faces and put his hand on
the shoulders of free men as though he had been a noble-bom chief."

The story called "The Idiots" brings us nearer home — to

418

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Apeil 16, 1898.

France. It is a terrible little tale about a peasant proud of
himself, proud of his wife, proud of the bit of land he owned,
proud of the thought that sons wiU be bom to him who will grow
up by his side, and carry on his name when he is laid away.
Children are bom to him— but one and all are idiots. The end is
the murder of the husband, and the suicide of the wife. That is
how things happened in this unfortunate family. And the world
went on much the same. Strangers even became used to the idiot
children shouting from the hedgerows.

" There are unfortunate people on the earth," says the mother of
the murderess and suicide. "I had only one child. Only one !
And they won't bury her in consecrated ground."

" It is very sad," replies the Marquis of Chavanes. " You have all
my sympathy. I shall speak to the cure. . . . "Good day,
Madame."

Here is a final taste of Mr. Conrad's quality :

"That child, like the other two, never smiled, never stretched its
hands to her, never spoke ; never had a glance of recognition for her in
its big black eyes, which could only stare fixedly at any glitter, but
failed hopelessly to follow the brilliance of a sun-ray slipping slowly
along the floor. When the men were at work she spent long days
between her three idiot children and the childish grandfather, who sat
grim, angular, and immovable, with his feet near the warm ashes of the
fire. The feeble old fellow seemed to suspect that there was something
wrong with his grandsons. Only once, moved either by affection or by
the sense of proprieties, he attempted to nurse the youngest. He took
the boy up from the floor, clicked his tongue at him, and essayed a
shaky gallop of his bony knees. Then he looked closely with his misty
eyes at the child's face and deposited him down gently on the floor
again ; and he sat, his lean shanks crossed, nodding at the steam
escaping from the cooking-pot with a gaze senile and worried."

Well observed, is it not ?

One of the tales in this volume, " The Return," treats a modern
subject, such a subject as has obsessed Mr. Marriot Watson more
than once. To this study of a conjugal fatality Mr. Conrad brings
the same vivid observation, the same restraint, the same artful
choice of words, and the same sincerity of exijression. He has
written some half-dozen volumes, but it is by The Nigger of the
Narcissus and these Tales of Unrest that he becomes a writer to be
reckoned with. His full achievement, we believe, is stiU. in the
making.

# # ♦ ♦

Comedies and Errors. By Henry Harland.
(John Lane.)

The short story is an odd and wondrous thing. Publishers tell us
that commercially it has little value, while (according to an enthu-
siastic " literary agent ") the demand for it by magazine editors is
enormous and increasing — and, indeed, anyone may see for himself
that this is so. What strange quality has it that people will devour
it when sandwiched .between advertisements and an illustrated
interview, and turn away when it is offered to them bound vip with
its fellows in a book ? We ought all to be full of useful informa-
tion concerning the short story, for it has been much discussed ;
one expert has lectured amiably upon its idiosyncrasy; another,
with the nicest skill, has written round and round it in reviews ;
the drawing-rooms of culture have echoed to its panegyric. And
now, we know of it— precisely nothing. It is the most difficult
form of fiction, some say ; but these do not happen to be novelists—
not even novelists who have written good short stories. It
must be the record of either an incident or a mood : a pretty-
sounding definition, which would exclude several of the very best
short stories ever accomplished. But surely the short story must be
short ? It need not be : look at Captains Courageous. If only a master
had analysed it for us, laid bare the essentials of the form ! De
Maupassant wrote with absolute vision about style, and expressed
clear ideas, too, on the true nature of fiction in general ; but as to
the subject of his own special craft he was silent. And other
masters keep the same silence.

Mr. Harland has his limitations, and may not be what is com-
monly called a virile writer ; but indubitably he has given to the
short-story form a shapeliuess, a distinction of contour, a delicacv in
Retail, an effective value, and, above all, an economic simplicity,
beyond the performance of others. Ho has carried the technique
of a particular art further than any of his contemporaries.

Eegarding Comedies and Errorst, it chiefly contains stories which
appeared in the Yellow Book, stories which one has savoured before
and is eager to savour again. One of the most typical— and to our owin
mind easily the best — is " The Friend of Man." Herein are shown
Mr. Harland's qualities at their brightest : his skill in evoking
character from trifles, Yds ftiesse in making beautiful curves towards
a climax, his wonderful power to group incidents, and that selective
pictorial faculty which enables him to set down so briefly a com
plicated and polychromatic effect. Ttike, for an example of thi
last, the description of the scene at the Casino :

"Thanks to the heat, the windows were open \vide; and throug
them one could see, first, a vivid company of men and women, strollin
backwards and forwards, and chattering busily in the electric glare i
the terrace ; and then, beyond them, the sea — smooth, motionles:
sombre ; silent, despite its perpetual whisper ; inscrutable, sinister
merging itself into the vast blackness of space. Here and there tb
black was punctured by a pin-point of fire, a tiny vacillating pin-poii
of fire ; and a landsman's heait quailed for a moment at the thought (
lonely vessels braving the mysteries and terrors and the awful soUtndi
of the sea at night. . . .

So that the voice of the croupier, perfunctory, machine-like, had almoi
a human, almost a genial effect, as it rapped out suddenly, calling upo
the players to mark their play."

With what sharp, astringent effectiveness comes the last sentenc
" The Friend of Man " offers an excellent instance of the short stoi
which victoriously tramples on laws laid down for its conduct, thi
making all generalisations futile. If there could be any ru
appljang universally to the form, it would be that introdu
tions, prologues, are inadmissible. The actual action mti
commence at once. Now " The Friend of Man " has twent
four pages introduction and six pages story proper ; and it happe
to be completely successful. The story proper is a significai
perhaps conclusive, incident in the history of a character. T
introduction discloses the history itself, through the recollection
a young man whose memories go back to his infancy. It is do
well, with mastery of material, and a highly complex subtle
Moreover, it has real pathos. Mr. Harland seldom attempts a
sort of deep feeling. He is all for half-tones, tranquil loves, mis
pleasures, regrets not entirely bitter. Most of his persons are 1
highly civilised and too cosmopolitan for the simplicities of gr
passion. He does not deal with children of nature. And ti
some time, will count against him : that he is never elemental, 8
that ho cannot see one thing at a time. To catch him at the heif
of his virtuosity you must choose a very light theme — say, " 1
Invisible Prince," in which a gossamer trifle of an intrigue is contri'
and managed, wholly by means of dialogue, after a fashion wh .
must simply dazzle those who have tried to do the same sort : ,
feat.

Each of the twelve tales in the book has its special interest, i
peculiar technique ; but they are all expressions of one arti :
individuality — an individuality which demands from itself a delic ) i
perfection and gets it, though at some cost of bigness in ) |
enterprise undertaken. The term "distinguished literary arti
is sadly misused. In the authentic, the only sense, not m f
distinguished literary artists arise in twenty years ; but hmit 9
phrase as strictly as you will, it must include Mr. Harland.

ANTHOLOGIES IN LITTLE.

III. — Thomas Campion.

Thomas Campion is one of the boons which the modern reader c «
to the scholarly labours of Mr. A. H. BuUen, and now that we 1 e
him we marvel that we could have spared him so long. L "
Mr. Bullen issued his fine edition, the best of Campion's woriy
mouldering in forgotten century song-books, unknown to the pt ''
and neglected even by professed antiquaries. Yet among >
lyrists of our tongue he must rank, for pure singing quahty, 8&
on'y to Herrick, if to him. A practical musician, he ^j
deliberately for the accompaniment of flute and viol, an'
is only to such an accompaniment that his songs render up
full charm. Merely read, they lose something of their dainty, w ^^
melody, their unexpected turns and lingering repetitions. Taugl '
music. Campion introduced into English lyric a grace whicli it
not before, and has hardly recovered since.

April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

419

Campion's personal history is obscure. He was born quite in the
!ddle of the sixteenth century, and died in 1620. Like hisbetter-
lown, though by no means so great, contemporary, Thomas Lodge,

was by profession a physician. He was mixed up, not par-
ularly to his discredit, in the mysterious murder of Sir Thomas
rerbury. He wrote some Latin epigrams, and a treatise on
iglish Poesie, in which, echoing from afar the defunct theories

Gabriel Harvey's Areopagtca, he sought to discredit that habit
English rhyming which became him so well. He wrote some
urt masques, which the courtiers had not quite the sense to
predate. The series of music-books for which he wrote words,
inetimes to his own tunes, sometimes to those of other men, began

1601, and lasted to his death. The burden of his songs is
jasionally devout, more often amorous. He has a happy touch

the jubilant notes of love, as weU as on love's pathos ; runs the
lole gamut of the passion, with unfailing melody and a distinction
I manner rare among Jacobeans :

"A Face.

And would you see my mistress' face ?
It is a flowery garden place,
Where knots of beauties have such grace
That all is work and nowhere space.

It is a sweet delicious mom,
Where day is breeding, never bom :
It is a meadow, yet unshorn,
Which thousand flowers do adorn.

It is the heaven's bright reflex,
Weak eyes to dazzle and to vex :
It is th' Idea of her sex,
Envy of whom doth worlds perplex.

It is a face of Death that smiles.
Pleasing, though it kills the whiles :
' Where Death and Love in pretty wiles
Each other mutually beguiles.

It is fair beauty's freshest youth,

It is the feign'd Elysium's truth :

The spring, that winter'd hearts renew'th ;

And this is that my soul pursu'th."

" JVSTVM BT TENACEM.

The man of life upright

Whose cheerful mind is free
From weight of impious deeds,

And yoke of vanity ;

The man whose silent days,

In harmless joys are spent,
Whom hopes can not delude

Nor sorrow discontent ;

That man needs neither towers

Nor armour for defence,
Nor vaults his guilt to shroud

From thunder's violence.

He only can behold

With unaffrighted eyes
The horrors of the deep

And terrors of the skies.
Thus, scorning all the cares

That fate or fortune brings,
His book the heaven he makes.

His wisdom heavenly things.

Good thoughts his surest friends.

His wealth a well-spent age,
The earth his sober inn

And quiet pilgrimage."

" When Thou Must Home.

When thou must home to shades of underground,

And, there arrived, a new admired guest.

The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round,

White lojKi, bUtie Helen, and the rest.

To hear the stories of thy finished love

From that smooth tongue whose music hell can move ;

Then wilt thou speak of banqueting delights,
Of masques and revels which sweet youth did make,
Of tourneys and great challenges of knights,
And all these triumphs for thy beauty's sake :
When thou hiist told these honours done to thee.
Then tell, O, tell, how thou didst murder me."

"Cheery Bife.

Thf re is a garden in her face

Where roses and white lilies grow ;

A heavenly paradise is that place

Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.

There cherries grow which none may buy.
Till ' Cherry Eipe ' themselves do cry.

Those cherries fairly do enclose

Of orient pearl a double row,

Which when her lovely laughter shows

They look Uke rose-buds filled with snow ;

Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy, '

Till ' Cherry Eipe ' themselves do cry.

Her eyes Uke angels watch them still,

Her brows like bended bows do stand,

Threatening with piercing frowns to kill

All that attempt with eye or hand

Those sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till ' Cherry Eipe ' themselves do cry."

" Follow Your Saixt.

Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet '

Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet !

There, wrapped in cloud of sorrow, pity move,

And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love :

But, if she scorns my never ceasing pain.

Then burst with sighing in her sight, and ne'er return again.

All that I sang still to her praise did tend,

Still she was first, still she my songs did end ;

Yet she my love and music doth both fly,

The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy :

Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight !

It shall suffice that they were breathed and died for her deUght. '

ME. I. ZANGWILL.

A Sketch axd Ixteeview.

The child of foreign Jewish parents in humble circumstances [says
a writer in the New York Bookman], Mr. Israel Zangwill was bom
in London in 1864, passed his early childhood m Bristol and
Plymouth, and returned to spend his youth among those East-end
scenes which he has portrayed in The Children of the Ghetto.
Admitted into the Jews' Free School, Spitalfields — the largest
elementary school in the British Empire — he won three scholarships,
became a pupil teacher, and, in due course, a full-fledged teacher.

In his first year he conducted a large class of sixty boys, with
whom he accomplished the hitherto unprecedented feat of passing
100 per cent, in the sixth standard. It was a tour de force that he
set himself to execute of set purpose. He wished to use his success
as a lever for protesting against the system of elementary instruc-
tion then in vogue. Corporal punishment was not allowed, but was
resorted to sub rosa. He considered that a moderate amount of such
punishment was indispensable to the maintenance of discipline.
At the same time, he declined to do anything that was not open and
above board. His difference of opinion with the management on
this question led to his resignation and not a little impleasantness.
He left, without means or "character" the school which now
proudly claims him as its own. Thanks to his agitation, which the
Union of Teachers recognised by a special vote of thanks, the
rii/ime has since been modified. Elementary teachers are no longer
driven to employ the cane in dishonest secrecy.

His first book, The Premier and the Painter, had already been
published (in collaboration with a fellow-teacher) while he was still
at the Free School. Though the writers were unknown, and ex-
hibited their literary inexperience by crowding into a single volume
enough wit and matter for three or four. The Premier and the Painter
attracted the approving notice of some discerning critics. He had
also at this time written several of his Ohetto Tragedies. The editor
who in the earlier stages of Mr. Zangwill's career bought and
published most of his work was Mr. Jerome K. Jerome.

There was a period in his early career when Mr. Zangwill edited
a comic paper, Ariel, which he has described as one of those
publications which are most appreciated by their free list. One of
the Punch staff recently tohl him that it was the only comic paper
they took seriously, and which they used to read so as to avoid
repeating its jokes. They were not always successful,

4!20

THE ACADEMY SUPPLEMENT.

[Apeil 16, 1898.

He lives in a London suburb, and in a house the visitor to which
is at once struck by the complete absence from his surroundings of
anything betokening smug prosperity. Horse-riding and travel are
the only two luxuries he permits himself, and both are indispensable
to his work. A highly temperate liver, he does not even smoke.
His library is & barely furnished and untidy-looking apartment,
filled with books that are for use and not for ornament. There are
no first editions, no leather bindings ; but his collection contains the
best and most serviceable things that have been written in three or
four languages, and a preponderance of works on metaphysics, of
which he is a close student. They have been collected by his
brother, Louis Zangwill ("Z. Z."), who lives with him, and often
writes his novels at the same table.

In this connexion it may be mentioned that so far from having
made the reputations of his two brothers, Louis and Mark, both the
novelist and the artist have suffered from a relationship which has
overshadowed them. People naturally rush to the conclusion that
there cannot be three clever men in one famUy, and they attribute
whatever publicity the younger men may have attained to the
influence of their brother. Louis ZangwiU had to adopt the
pseudonym " Z. Z." to save confusion.

As to Israel Zangwill's methods of work, they may be described
as irregular. He writes in great spurts of industry, which are
preceded by weeks in which he can do nothing except read and
study. When this feeling has worn off he begins to grow restless.
Then he takes up his writing again, and never puts it down until
he has finished. He requires frequent change, and finds [a long
stay in London depressing.

Asked by his interviewer about his future plans, Mr. Zangwill
gave the interesting information that he intends to drop the Ghetto
for a time. " I shall alternate my Jewish work with an ordinary
novel. One very distinguished man said to me : ' Zangwill, you can
write the play of my life.' But I don't want to write the play of
Jiis life. Eichard Mansfield in America has been at me for years ;
he wants to play The King of the Schnorrer's, and once offered me a
carte blanche commission to write no less than four plays for him."

" What other plans ? "

"One day I shall collect my verses; and some day my more
important criticisms or essays, preceded by that article on Criticism
which I purposely excluded from Without Prejudice, when it
appeared in volume form."

Mr. Zangwill has done a deal of lecturing in various parts of
the world.

Within the past twelve months he has lectured in Palestine,
HoUand and Ireland. I asked him when he was going to America
on a lecturing tour. " Major Pond," he answered, "has made up
his mind that I am going next year, but I have no such intention
at present. I rather shrink from the publicity and glare of it all.
Lecturing in a small country like Holland or Ireland is a recreation.
If ever I do go to the States, it wUl be an old promise to an
intimate friend that will primarily take me there.

APHOEISMS AND EPIGRAMS.
VII. — William Blake.

EEStTMmo our series of Aphorisms and Epigrams, we give below a
selection of the latter from the "MS. Book," known to every
student of WnUam Blake.

In their recent work on Blake Messrs. E. J. Ellis and W. B.
Yeats describe this MS. book as a little volume of about a hundred
pages, each measuring six and a half inches wide by eight inches
high, having for its title "Ideas of Good and Evil." Each page
contains a drawing in the middle ; and some of these drawings
were used as first sketches of C3rtain of the poet-artist's published
designs. In the margins epigrams run riot : " Tiiese are generally
on artistic subjects, and contain hits at Ilayley (the " H." of
the following epigrams). Sir Joshua Reynolds, Stothard, Cromek,
and all Blake's pet aversions." The reader will see that they
have an unmistakable flavour of their own :

The angel that presided o'er my birth

Said, " Little creature formed for joy and mirth,

Go ! live without the help of anything on earth."

To Gou.

If you have formed a circle to go into,

Go into it yourself and see what you would do.

If on earth you do forgive
You shall not find where to live.

A Pitiful Case.

The villain at the gallows tree.

When he is doomed to die.
To assuage his bitter misery

In virtue's praise does cry.

So Reynolds, when he came to die,

To assuage his bitter woe.
Thus aloud did howl and cry :

" Michael Angelo ! Michael Angelo I '

Can there be anything more mean,

More malice in disguise,
Than praise a man for doing what

"that man does most despise ?
Rej-nolds lectures exactly so
When he praises Michael Angelo.

Raphael, sublime, majestic, graceful, wise.
His executive powers must I despise ?
Rubens, low, vulgar, stupid, ignorant.
His powers of execution I must grant.

As the ignorant savage will sell his own wife

For a button, a buckle, a bead, or a knife, •'

So the wise, savage Englishman spends his whole fortune

For a smear or a squall that is not picture or tune.

The Sussex men are noted fools.
And weak in their brain pan,

I wonder if H the painter

Is not a Sussex man.

To H-

You think Fuseli's not a great painter,

This is one of the best compliments he ever had

I'm glad.

To H-

Thy friendship oft has made my heart to ache :
Do be my enemy, for friendship's sake.

My title as a genius thus is proved.

Not praised by Hayley or by Flaxman loved.

P loved me not as he loved his friends.

For he loved them for gain to serve his ends.

He loved me for no gain at all.

But to rejoice and triumph at my fall.

Stothaed.

S-

in childhood, upon the nursery floor,
Was extremely old and most extremely poor.
He has grown old, and rich, and what he will.
He is extreme old, and extreme poor still.

Columbus discovered America, but Americus Vesputius finiS' ■
and smoothed it over, like an English engraver, or CorreggiC
Titian.

Aphn- 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

421

SATURDAY, APRIL 16, 1898.

No. i354, Neuf Seriet.

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not later than 4 p.m. on ITmrsday.

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rejected contributions, provided a stamped and
I addressed envelope is enclosed.
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Offices : 43, Chancery Lane, W. C.

• NOTES AND NEWS.

\ NEW edition of ihQLetters to A. P. Watb

\ the annual reminder of his enterprise

bich the chief literary agent of this country

itsforth, lies before us. Not being Mr. Watt,

; 3 can read it without blushing ; but he —

' I must grow ruddier than the cherry. The

iw collection has eight new letters, among

om one from Mr. Guy Boothby, the young

istralian writer, who, on the threshold of

; s career, was counselled by Mr. Kipling to

work hard and put his trust in Watt."

lat he has been assiduous the publishers'

1 ts prove ; and here, in this letter, is

rther proof of his fidelity to Mr. Kipling's

;ent. But Mr. Watt might have returned

e compliment by seeing that the title of

r. Boothby's Bushigrams was correctly

iven.

The other new letters include one from
. r. Morley Eoberts, in which he says: "I
1 ink I ought to tell you that I have come
1 the conclusion that a man who writes
ijnnot really be said to exist without an
ijent, and his opinion is the result of great
« perience in mismanaging my own aif airs."
' lere are publishers that think otherwise.

The Looker-on in Blackwood is exercised
the case of Mr. Stephen Phillips. He

s admiration for the new poet, but lie has
f irs too. Thus begins the examination :
' 5ince then a book of poems by a writer
I ;le known heretofore has made more noise
t in any similar publication since Alexander
fc lith fired his rocket skyward. Hero, liow-
e)r, the genius is no illusion. There are
pssages in this small book of a hundred
pfees that march with the footfall of the
iinortals ; stately lines with all the music
al meaning of the highest poesy; and
^en that can be truthfully said of any

new-comer into a land bereaved of poetic
grandeur, it may be denied that his welcome
can be too extravagantly grateful."

BtTT the reviewer is very severe upon Mr.
Phillips's faults. These he divides into
faults of permission and commission. Among
the former is a too ready acceptance of a
phrase that " wiU do " instead of searching
further for the phrase that is best. Thus,
" when Apollo warns Marpessa that if .she
marries Idas a time will come when her
eyes will be 'of all illusion cured,' 'cured'
is the wrong word precisely (seeing that the
illusion was her happiness), and a hack
word too." Among Mr. Phillips's faults of
commission is the trick of tagging his verse
with lines and half-lines that have no pur-
pose but to fill out the measure or supply
a rhyme.

The Looker-on then turns to the "Woman
with the Dead Soul" and " The Wife," and
disapproves of both. "The truth about both
is, that beautiful as they are in form, in
movement, in accent (with strange lapses,
however, such as recall the whilom flower-
girl in the Duchess), their beauty is not
equal to their offences, and does not atone
for them." And so on. Finally, the reviewer
gives a number of reasons why he has
entered so fuUy into Mr. PhiUips's case.
These are two of them: "Because, if
Mr. Phillips's poetic faculty is a fuU and
lasting fund, it will be a grave misfortune
if the author of ' Marpessa ' is confirmed in
the practice of his morbidities. Because, in
the fact, that ' Marpessa ' is a far finer, more
spacious, more noble piece of work than the
rest, there is hope that its author can be
turned from his errors."

St. George, the organ of the Euskin Society
at Birmingham, announces that the Trustees
of St. George's Guild are issuing a series of
photographs of the examples of Art con-
tained in the Euskin Museum collection.
They comprise reproductions of original
drawings by Mr. Euskin himself, and by the
artists whom he specially employed for the
purpose. The examples will serve either as
extra illustrations to The Principles of Art,
as expounded by Mr. Euskin, and in which
volume they are fully described, or for the
purjjose of being framed ; and they are
therefore to bo obtained either mounted or
unmounted.

The private soldier who greeted Mr.
Kipling so felicitously on his arrival at Cape
Town has now " obliged again." He has sent
to the Chronicle from the Cape a Barrack-
room Ballad of his own, which has merit
enough to stand alone. The subject, oddly
enough overlooked by Mr. Kipling, is the
death of a soldier, and his regiment's sudden
change of attitude towards him. Here are
two stanzas :

" 'E'd little brains, I'll swear,
Beneath 'is ginger 'air,
'Is personal attractious, well, they wasn't
very large ;
'E was fust in ev'ry mill,
An' a foul-uiouthed cur, but still
We'll forgive 'im all 'is drawbacks — 'e' as
taken 'is discharge.

'E once got fourteen days,
For dnmken, idle ways,
An' the Colonel said the nasty things that
colonels sometimes say ;
'E called him to 'is face
The regiment's disgrace —
But the Colonel took 'is 'at off when 'e passed
'im by to-day."

The little poem, which is called "Ginger
James," has the true note.

Is this a maxim among Johnsonian
students : " Here's a man devoting his life
to editing Bozzy ; let us heave a brick at
him " ? John Wilson Croker did useful and
patient work on Boswell's Life, and then
Macaulay pronounced his notes a tissue of
errors. And now Dr. George Birkbeck
Hill, having quarried the Johnsonian field
for years, is formally arraigned by Mr.
Percy Fitzgerald. Mr. Fitzgerald's indict-
ment comes to us in a quarto volume con-
taining eighty - six double - column pages
filled with Dr. Birkbeck Hill's " mistakes,
misapprehensions, wild flounderings, and
speciilations."

We have looked through the volume.
The dust of editorial fisticuffs rises on every
page, and we weary of the spectacle of one
editor pummelling another. Many of Mr.
Fitzgerald's corrections may be just. But
his criticisms, as a whole, strike us as
vexatious. Here is the sort of thing :

" The editor [Mr. Birkbeck Hill] gravely dis-
cusses all these matters. ' He [Johnson] might
have returned either by the Oxford coach, which
left at 8 a.m. — fare lo«. ' ; and, mark this : ' There
were no outside passengers.' Here we touch
firm ground, for, of course, Johnson must have
travelled inside— that is, if he did travel by
this vehicle. Or did he take ' " The Machine,"
which left the " Bear Inn ' ' every Monday,
Wednesday, &c., at 6 a.m. ' ? ' The Machine '
or Oxford coach ? Who can tell ? The editor
adds resignedly : ' What time these coaches
neared London we are not told.' Johnson would
prefer knowing what time they reached Loudon.

But there is a further important point— viz. ,
that ' " The Machine " was not licensed by the
Vice-Chancellor.' Then more details about
' The Machine ' : It carried six inside passengers.
And the serious point of luygaije : ' Each inside
passenger was allowed six pounds of luggage ;
beyond that weight a penny a poimd was
charged.' Bradshaw is not 'in it ' with all
this. Still the point is left unsettled : Had
Johnson luggage ? and how much Y In de-
fault of evidence, the editor does the next best
thing — he speculates. ' Had Johmon sent heavy
luggage' — and how likely that was ! — ' he might
have sent it by the University old stage waggon,
which left' — and so on. And thus, bewildered
by ' The Machine,' the ' Oxford coach,' the
' heavy waggon,' &c., we are left no wiser. I
rejieat, it seems incredible that any one could
bring himself to write such things."

Wo are not impressed by Mr. Fitzgerald's
ridicule of Dr. Hill's method, as shown in
this jjassage. Dr. Hill's speculations about
the coach, and the Doctor's luggage, strike
us as amusing. To Mr. Fitzgerald they
seem dull and superfluous. Well, Mr.
Fitzgerald is not Dr. Hill, and within the
covers of Boswell there ought to bo room
for individual editing. On the whole. Dr.
Hill's sUence under this attack strikes us
as being more admirable than Mr. Fitz-
gerald's garrulity.

422

THE ACADEMY.

[Apeil 16, 1898.

Ix an address read at a meeting of the
New York Branch of the Walt Whitman
Fellowship : Intwnational, Mr. Le Gallienne
has been delivering his true opinion of his
fellow - members of the Omar Khayyam
Club with a frankness that is not likely to
be too pleasing to that body. Thus was
the reference introduced : "Now look here,
you Whitmanites, all I want to say is this—
and I hope you won't think it impolite of
me— you are, of course, delightful people,
delightful hosts, but what I am chiefly con-
cerned to know is— are you aU real Whit-
manites? ... It means something to
call ourselves Whitmanites— or it means
nothing. If it means nothing, why not call
ourselves by one of tlie many other imme-
moritd names that mean nothing? Why
not, for example, join the Eespectables ? "
Such was Mr. Le Gallienne's spirited out-
burst.

And then, by way of pointing his
criticisms, he added :

" We have a club in London dedicated to the
worship of Omar Khayyam. Think of the
roses and raptures which that name suggests !
But should you ever part the portiere of vine-
leaves and roses that screens with gaudy
paganism the proprieties of its banqueting hall,
what do you find ? Forms sUm as the cypress
and wine-glad faces fair as the moon? No
doubt there are members who would be Omar
Khayyamites if they dared, members, indeed,
who are Omar Khayyamites strictly under the
rose ; but all that the visiting eye beholds is a
company of respectable middle-aged gentlemen
over their claret. They look for all the world
like old-maidish officials of the Board of Trade,
and if you look f.r vine-leaves in their hair,
you will for the most part find neither vine-
leaves nor hair."

This is criticism from within, with a
vengeance.

AxD here we might quote the very free
adaptation of " Persicos Odi " which some
one has recently made with reference to
Persian poetry :

" Boy, I dislike a paraphrase of Omar

Done into English second-hand frcm
Persian ;
Roses distilled with patchouli's aroma
Are my aversion.

Give me instead the feast one faithful drew to,
Trumpeted forth by neither ' Star ' nor
herald ;
That loaf of bread, that jug of wine, and
you, too.

Rare old FitzGerald."

When Mr Schofield, who describes Bjiim-
80n and Ibsen in the current Atlantic Monthly,
told Bjomson that he had seen " John
Gabriel Borkmann," this was the emphatic
answer of the author of In God's Way.
" Oh, that's a piece I can't stand : entirely
pessimistic and useless; not the kind of
thing we want at all. It won't do anybody
any good." Subsequently, in talking of
another matter, Bjomson repeated his article
of faith: "What we want in the future is
a literature whicli will make men better."

A STORY of Ibsen told in the same article
is a little puzzling to us. It is to the effect
that Ibsen, being strongly averse from
talking of his own wc-V, and occasionally

having to rebuke inquisitive persons, once
replied to a stranger who asked him what
he had meant by Peer Gynt, " Oh, my dear
madam, when I wrote Peer Gynt only our
Lord and I knew what was meant ; and as
for me, I have forgotten." It is a good
story, but has been told so often and so long
of Browning tliat we know not how to
receive it. Is it true? And if true, did
Ibsen remember Browning's reply? Or
did Browning remember Ibsen's? Or did
both men arrive at their wit independently ?

Mr. Schofield records one important con-
versation: "One morning when I was
sitting in his study, on the sofa (the place
of honour in Norway as in Germany), he
became delightfully talkative. He spoke
freely of his plays, and explained why he
thought 'The Emperor and the Galilean'
the best and most enduring of them all. He
seemed for once to be off his guard, and
expressed opinions on various subjects.
Suddenly he fell into a reverie. Unwilling
to interrupt it, I was forced to listen for
some time — rather uneasy, I admit — to the
passing trolley cars, which kept up their
incessant hissing in the street below. Finally,
he said slowly, almost unconscious of my
presence, ' Yes, I have tried always to live
my own life — and I think I have been
right.' "

The quaint and simple description of " A
London Sabbath Mom," which Stevenson
wrote in the Burns stanza for the Scots
section of his Undertvoods, has been illus-
trated by a fellow Scot, Mr. A. S. Boyd, and
published by Chatto & Windus. The result
is an attractive book. Mr. Boyd's manner
is a little harsh, but he has humour, and Ids
admiration for the poem, and interest in the
scenes it records, have lent his pencil sym-
pathy. Most persons would be grateful for
a glossary.

A NEW illustrated edition of The Vicar of
Wakefield has been added by Messrs. Service
& Paton to their standard novels. The
artist, Mr. C. E. Brock, has made some
charming pictures, one or two of them
having a true Goldsmithian character. In
the meeting of the Vicar and Olivia in the
inn, the same incident as played at the
Lyceum Theatre is distinctly recalled,
which leads to the suggestion that the stage
might be used by illustrators more than
it is. Some of the scenery in " Olivia " was
beautiful enough for reproduction as back-
ground in any book, and Sir Henry Irving's
Dr. Primrose, Miss Terry's Olivia, and the
late William Terriss's Squire Thornhill
could hardly have been more picturesque.
Perhaps in the illustrated edition of The
Little Minider, which some day is certain to
come, the artist will take hints from the
Haymarket production.

Apropos of illustrations, the frontispiece
to Beauchamp's Career, in the new edition of
Mr. Meredith's novels, seems to us singu-
larly unnecessary. The fact that there is
yachting in the book has led to the inclusion
of a photogravure plate, after a picture in
the manner of Copley Fielding, entitled

" Off the Needles." Good novels are not so
badly in need of pictorial aid as this suggests

It is fortunate, perhaps, that more books
are projected than ever come to be written,
and more written than are published ; but
now and then one bears of a scheme which
one would like to see completed. " Temple
Scott," who contributes a letter on English
literary affairs to the Chicago Dial, says :
" An author, unknown to fame, is writing a
pamphlet with the following title : ' A Pro-
posal Humbly offered to the Ch-nc-11-r of
the Exch-q-r, For the better regulation of
the Publication of Books, and for bringing
within modest bounds the pride and vanity
of authors, as well as the arrogance of pub-
lishers.' He has taken his text from Horace :

' Insani sanas nomen ferat, a)quas iniqui.
Ultra quam satis est, virtntem si petat ipsam.'

I cannot tell you whether the tract will ever
be published or not." We hope that it wil

The May number of the Idler will contain
an authoritative article upon the career and
influence of the late Mr. Aubrey Beardsley,
by Mr. Max Beerbohm, illustrated by
drawings that are little known, and some
that have never before been published.

The Council of University College, London,
have appointed Mr. H. L. Callendar, M.A.,
F.E.S., late FeUow of Trinity College, Cam-
bridge, and now Professor of Physics in the
McGiU University, Montreal, to the Quain
Chair of Physics in University College about
to be vacated by Prof. Carey Foster.

It has been arranged to hold the Book-
sellers' Dinner, under the auspices of the
above institution, at the Holbom Restaurant,
in the King's Hall, on Saturday, May 7.
The committee have pleasure in stating that
the Eight Hon. James Bryce, D.C.L., M.P.,
has kindly consented to occupy the chair,
and Mr. Sydney S. Pawling the vice-chair.

Me. George Allen announces a work, in
two volumes, of interest to collectors of
Japanese art, entitled A Japanese Collection,
by Mr. Michael Tomkinson. It will be
illustrated with about 125 photogravure
plates of inros, swords, ivories, tsuba,
pouches, pipes, f akusa, netsuke, embroideries,
brocades, and lacquer.

Me. Allen also announces a new volume
by M. Maeterlinck, entitled Wisdom and
Destiny. For the appearance of Mr. Phil
May's illustrated edition of David Copper'
field October has been fixed.

Mr. John Long will publish at once a
volume of bizarre stories, to be called The
Sea of Zooe, by Walter Phelps Dodge, the
author of A Strong Man Armed.

Miss Catherine M. Phillimoee is about
to publish, through Mr. Elliot Stock, a study
on Dante at Ravenna. It will treat of the
less known part of Dante's Ufe, and will
show how much the poet was influenced by
the place of his residence during the closing
years of his life. Several illustrations from
local photographs are included in the volume.

ill

April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

423

REPUTATIONS
RECONSIDERED.

JONATHAN SWIFT.

IN a preface to the first collected edition of
Swift's works, published in 1762, the
editor fortifies himseU against omitting one
piece, or even a single sentence, of hisauthor by
adducing the opinion of the most learned men
in Europe that " all his Weeds were Flowers
in the best Gardens, and all the Trash, the
Chippings of the richest brilliant Diamonds."
But, good lack, if you turn over the leaves
of those thirteen substantial volumes how
much now appears obsolete and superfluous !
For much is pure j(5urnali8m, done, according
to the fashion of the time, in pamphlets ; and
nothing is more changeable than the aspect
of public affairs. It is true the keen
historical student may force himself to
wade through the political disquisitions,
but it would be mere affectation to
pretend that they possess any literary
interest. His moral essays, whether they
took the shape of letters or of sermons,
belong to the same category. Had Dean
Swift left only these behind, he and his
works would have been long ago whelmed in
oblivion. Yet even among them one is con-
stantly meeting something to recall the fact
that they were composed by the most brilliant
writer of a brilliant age. For instance,
sandwiched between the " Contests and
Dissensions at Eome and the " Sentiments of
a Church of England Man " is the delightful
paper, scarce covering two pages, called
" A Meditation upon a Broomstick," an
inimitable parody of the Honourable Robert
Boyle. Further on, we come to the dream of
the lion and the virgins and the famous Tatler
on les petites morales, with its vivid picture of
squiredom in the days of Queen Anne.
They are, it is true, only trifles, yet such
trifles as genius alone is able to produce. It
is the same throughout the other volumes.
Swift as a controversialist is no longer
readable, even as a writer of letters he is
not attractive, but the moment he touches
upon any theme that gives play to his
invention, his observation and his satirical
humour, he stands out as the man of his age.
Thackeray is less successful with Dean
Swift than with any of the other wits he
tried to present in Esmond, and this was the
more remarkable inasmuch as there is a
certain kinship of genius between the two.
Each, as it were, stood on a height, and
observed life and character, but neither to
any great extent had the gift of sympathetic
creation. The world of Henry Esmond is
coloured by the personality of Thackeray,
and so it is with Swift ; but the Victorian
novelist, loving elegance and refinement, and
caring little for the boisterous, burly force
characteristic of the days of Anne, ever
lends a softening tint to his picture. He
leaves an impression of fine women as
delicate in their manners as the ladies of our
own day. If he ventures to carry them
over the borders of gentility it is only to
show

"two pairs of the finest and roundest arms to
be seen in England (my lady Ciistlewood was
remarkable for this beauty of her person)
covered with flour up above the elbows, and

preparing paste and turning rolling pins in the
housekeeper's closet."

His society is all like this. The men are
in largo periwigs and beautiful waistcoats
and gold-hilted swords. Their conversation
is gay and gallant and witty, as becomes
beaux and fops, and a gentlemanly ' ' Damme ' '
does not detract from its general character.
Wlio would guess from this evidence alone
that the country described was that of the
Yahoos! Let us change the spectacles of
Thackeray for the bright, sharp eyes of the
Dean, and how the glory of the time begins
to fade. We take up the Guide to Polite
Conversation., and find what is evidently a
realistic picture of the manners of the time,
imbedded though it be in a scathing bur-
lesque of society small-talk. The most
characteristic bits are unfit for the polite
ears of the present day. Among other
items of information we learn that a beauty
and fortune was accustomed to spit at a
dinner party, that there was nothing un-
usual in a fashionable young gentleman
pulling her on his lap when occasion pre-
sented, that noble lords jested broadly
before their hostess, and ladies talked in a
manner hoydens would be ashamed of now.
Here is a short specimen of the manners, of
the time, which has the additional merit of
illustrating the cleverness with which Swift
satirised the proverbs and, as we call them
now, the elicMs that ft)rmed the conversa-
tional stock-in-trade of the great.

" \_^All is taken away and the ivine set doiim.
Miss ijives Neverovt a smart pinch .']

Nev. : Lord, Miss, what d'ye mean ? D'ye
think I've no feeling ?

Miss : I'm forced to pinch, for the Times are
hard.

Nev. (Giving Miss a Pinch) : Take that,
Miss ; what's 8a wee for a Gojse is Sawce for a
Gander.

Miss (Screaming) : Well, Mr. Neverout, if I
hve that shall neither go to Heaven nor Hell
with you.

Nev. (Takes Miss's Hand) : Come, Miss, let
us lay aU Quarrels aside and be Friends.

Miss : Don't be mauming and gauming a
Body so. Can't you keep your filthy Hands
to yourself?"

The savage pleasure Dean Swift took in
unmasking the Yahoo-ishness of fine ladies
is still more strikingly exemplified in the
unfinished Directions to Servants, which in
coarseness, vigour, and irony are unexcelled
by anything the author did, and in the
poems which, valueless as they are as
poetry, are of priceless value as documents
illustrative of the age. Almost alone among
his contemporaries, the Dean prized the
homely virtues of cleanliness and decency,
carrying them to an excess in his own
person, and he is never tired of showing
that under the brave outward show of wigs,
and laced hats and ruffles, of paint and
powder and furbelows, the national habits
could as yet only be described as filthy. His
animadversions gain in strength even by
his limitations. He had little appreciation
of those eternal beauties that encompass
human life in every age, be it in Ithaca or
the London of Queen Anne : witness the
vivid description of morning in the city.
There are all the everyday and sordid
figures — the immoral Betty stealing from

her master's bed " to discompose her own,"
" the slip-shod Prentice " cleaning up and
opening his master's shop, the housemaid
with her mop, the youth seeking old nails
in the kennel, the voices of the small-coal
man, the chimney-sweep and the brick-dust
woman, the duns meeting at his lordship's
gate, the bailiffs taking their stand, and
school-boys with satchels in their hand. It
is keen and cynically observant ; it lacks
only "the light that never was," a touch
of that glory of the morning which falls on
city and on field alike, to have been poetry
in essence as well as in form. And he
was equally blind to what of passion and
j)atho8 and romance lay behind the ugly
exterior facts of human life.

Yet it woidd be a false estimate of Dean
Swift that dismissed him as a realist and
nothing more. The work of his that bears the
unmistakable impress of immortality, Gul-
liver's Travels, is born of an imagination as
romantic as that of Scott, as close and firm
as Defoe's. Their moral or allegory has long
ceased to interest anyone but the pedant,
and the only longueurs in them consist of
the disquisitions in which are set forth the
wickedness of self-complacent England. Not
to amuse, but to find machinery for his
preachment, he invented worlds as strange
and delightful as the scenery of the Arabian
Nights. By concentrating his imagination
on detail, by stroke upon stroke of realistic
description, he makes his Lilliputs, his Brob-
dingnagians, his Houhynyms, as real to us
as Crusoe's man Friday or the Old Man of
the Sea. England has greatly changed, and
the moral is no longer applicable, but new
generations find these histories as fresh and
readable as the story of Cinderella is to every
new occupant of the nursery. But even here
his success is not won by any command over
character. The Brobdingnagian maid who
set Gulliver astride on her nipple, the Lilli-
putian nobles who held a tournament on his
handkerchief, and the white mare-servant
of the wise Houhynym lord are but so many
figures and mouthpieces. Like Thackeray,
Dean Swift painted life as seen from his own
eminence, vigilantly and, in a deep sense,
truly ; yet never in a way to make you feel
that the company of shadows have assumed
flesh and blood, that we no longer listen to one
man speaking through many masks, that
every man and woman of the troop is uttering
his own deepest thoughts, is animated by
her own passions. This supreme gift belongs
to another type of artist, the type to which
Shakespeare and Walter Scott belonged. But
there is not a more searching test of imagina-
tion than the creation of a fairyland, one that
for the time being imposes itself on the mind
as vividly as Dante's Hell, or the enchanted
island of the Tempest; and by so much as
imagination is greater than wit, and irony,
and all the other mental gifts, so do Gul-
liver's Travels excel all else in Swift.

In this writer, however, the manner is of
equal importance with the matter, and the
briefest notice woidd be incomplete without
some word about his great and unique style.
He lived when English prose was at its high-
water mark. It is true that everybody who
wrote at all tried to write verse, but an
utterly false taste in verse prevailed. The
majestic harmonies of Milton and the sweep-

424

ThE ACADEMt.

[April 16, 1898.

ing energy of the Elizabethans were alike
unrivalled by Dryden and Pope, who, with
undeniable gifts, worked under a bad conven-
tion. It was the day when Cato became the
rage and CoUey Gibber was in his glory, and
people thought much of verse no man can

read now. • t. .

But it was an era rich in prose, the richest
in our history. Over and over again it has
happened that the prose of a whole period
has been ruined by the worship of a bad
ideal. Someone with an inherently defective
style arises and wins success despite his
weakness. Then that great, good-natured,
ill-judging British public assumes that the
manner is the best, and lends a cold ear to
those who do not adopt it, and so a period
of bad English sets in. Lyly was the first
conspicuous sinner with his Euphues. Sir
Thomas Browne set a bad example to Dr.
Johnson, who, in his turn, led hosts of
successors astray. The bad models of our
own day— I speak of them only as models,
not as passing judgment on their merits-
have been Macaulay, Carlyle, and Kuskin.
That one and all of them could write noble
English is altogether outside the question.
The assertion simply is, that whoever tries to
imitate the mechanical cadences and anti-
theses of Macaulay, Carlyle's licentious
disregard of form, or Ruskin's love of
ornament, is meeting failure — artistic
failure, at any rate— more than half-way.

But the strength of the great prose-
writing of Queen Anne's time is that it
belonged to no school. Fielding fashioned
a style that exactly suited the expression of
his own frank, ironical, sunny-natured self.
His novels may be searched in vain for an
affected word— for a word, that is, which does
not seem the most natural for the occasion.
It was the method Addison pursued, with a
very different temperament ; and it was the
method of Jonathan Swift. "We have been
admitted to his workshop in a passage that
deserves to be conned by everyone who
would write well. It occurs in the preface
afore-mentioned.

"The Author [writes the editor] consented
to the printing on the following conditions :
' That no Jobb should be made but full Value
given for the money ; that the Editor should
attend him early every Morning, or when most
convenient, to read to him, that the Sound
might strike the Ear as well as the Sense the
Understanding, and had always two Men
Servants present for the pm-pose ; and when he
had' any Doubt, he would ask them the meaning
of what he heard ? Which, if they did not
comprehend, he would alter and amend, until
they understood it perfectly well, and then he
would say. This loill do; for I write to the
Vulyar more than to the Learned.' "

The story reminds us of Moliere and his
housekeeper; of Dante and his resolve to
forsake Latin and write his epic in the
common tongue, that the unlearned might
understand ; and of Homer and the rich
folk-songs of many lands, which, without ex-
ception, were addressed to the rude bulk of
humanity. To be clear is the first merit of
prose, and Swift has this merit to the
highest degree. Yet it is obvious that
plain speech is not of itself a means to sal-
vation. Where there is mental poverty it
onljr advertises the barrenness of the land,
which is the reason why so many are driven

to be complicated and obscure, so as to
obtain the show of a distinction not reaUy
belonging to them. The question, then, to
be decided is, whether a writer is strong
enough to appear without borrowed
plumage, and with his shortcomings bare.
M. Sainte-Beuve, in his introduction to the
works of Moliero, relates with approval
Tieck's story of Lord Southampton
despatching his servant to the inn where
the young Shakespeare listened silently
while Marlowe harangued the company,
and asked him to give a message to him
who had the most human face. But Swift's
bore not the impress of all that humanity
feels, and his writing is marked by one or
two strongly developed characteristics rather
than by a multitude of emotions. The pas-
sion of love he may have felt, though we
cannot here enter upon the pitiful stories of
Vanessa and Stella ; it is not at aU in his
writing. And how far his contempt of
women was balanced by mercy and charity
no one but himself knew. It belonged to
his nature to cloak and hide whatever was
most pure and devout in his character, and
he consistently showed his worst to the
world. His writing has few, if any, of the
great and masterly phrases that embellish
the pages of Browne. He did not strive
after the limpid purity of Addison. You
find no suggestion of that union of pathos,
sentiment, and humour invented by
Laurence Sterne, and so often attempted in
our own day. Even his irony lacks the
genial polish that lends unbounded charm
to Fielding. It is, indeed, irony of an
entirely different kind, begotten, perhaps, in
mercy and compassion, but bom in wrath
and bitterness. Not unseldom it has the
effect of an ingrained habit of mind, but
oftener still it is edged by the very deepest
feeling. His writing is certainly no milk
for babes, but is strong, coarse meat for
men.

It seems to me a pity that there should
be a rage for the complete works of an
author much of whose writing had only a
passing interest. The best alone is worth
preserving, and in the Dean's case there can
be little dispute about what the best is. His
masterpieces are undoubtedly the various
travels and adventures of Lemuel Gulliver.
With these should be included the Tale of a
Tiih and the Journal to Stella, perhaps also
the Battle of the Boohs. Some of the briefer
essays are so excellently written and pre-
serve so vivid a picture of the times that a
volume might be made of them. The Polite
Conversation as a literary curiosity is worth
preserving, and so are the Directions to Ser-
vants. A number of the poems deserve
preservation for the sake of their local colour
and their picture of manners ; certainly
"the humble petition of Frances Harris"
is 80 perfect a transcript of the eighteenth
century chamber-maid that the humorist
will not let it die. Thus, few of our writers
have left behind a larger body of strong and
vital work ; but there is almost an equal
amount of controversy and sermon that
should be tossed to oblivion : things that
but cumber the writer's fame.

THREE BAEDS OF THE BUSH.

I. — Henky Lawson.

Nearly eight years have passed since Lamb
reviewed IJarron Field's I'l'rst Fruits of Aus-
tralian Poetry in the Examiner, and now
Australia counts her poets by the score.
Her papers are fUled with song — rough and
ready, it is true, far removed from the
Sydney Judge's echoes of Andrew Marvell
and the Midsummer Nighffs Dream ; but song
none the less.

" I first adventure ; follow me who list :
And be the second Austral harmonist."

Such was the couplet at the head of Lamb's
quaint and savoury little article. With three
Austral harmonists who have listed to follow
we are now concerned — with Mr. Henry
Lawson, Mr. Edward Dyson, and Mr. A. B.
Paterson — all young men, not far advanced
in their careers, and each with something to
say and a direct way of saying it. This is
not, perhaps, their order of merit, but it is
the order in which it seems best to take
them : beginning with Mr. Lawson's In the
Days when the World was Wide, passing on
to Mr. Dyson's Rhymes from the Mines, and
ending with Mr. Paterson's The Man from
Snowy River.

There are living Australian writers —
settlers or natives — who may be able to
do better work. Mr. Brunton Stephens, for
example, has a high reputation, but from
this triad we get the genuine outlook of
men who have done things first and have
written of them afterwards. They give us
Australian life, whether of the station or the
mines, of the bush or the city, from within :
matter before manner. Manner will, of
course, come later ; art for art's sake, and all
the rest of it ; just now Australia is still too
young, too busy, to be bothered with it.

Mr. Lawson, whose prose volume. While
the Billy Boils, was reviewed in these
columns last year, has much of the
poet's dower of scorn. He rages at the
inequality of the world, at pretence and
self-righteousness, at the encroachments of
civilisation. His is the temperament that
is for ever looking back — both to his own
and the world's early days. Thus he sings :

" They tried to live as a freeman should — they

were happier men than we,
In the glorious days of wine and blood, when

Liberty crossed the sea ;
'Twas a comrade true or a foeman then, and

a trusty sword well tried—
They faced each other and fought like men

in the days when the world was wide.

. • * * •

We fight like women, and feel as such ; the

thoughts of our hearts we guard ;
Where scarcely the scorn of a god could

touch, the sneer of a sneak hits hard ;
The treacherous tongue and cowardly pen,

the weapons of curs, decide —
They faced each other and fought Uke men

in the days when the world was wide."

Mr. Lawson, like all those who pit the
past against the present, probably argues
on insufficient data; but he is entitled to
his standpoint, and he is true to it too.
Hi a intolerance, moreover, never extends
to the unfortunate. Cynical he certainly

April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

425

is, and an impatient censor of pettiness,
but let tliere be a touch of generosity, a hint
of picturesqueness, in a scoundrel and his
smile is won. He has the Colonial's hatred
of circumscribed spaces and social ordinances
He wants to be allowed to do as he likes, to
wear what he likes — in short, to be free.
Hence his poetry is the poetry of the
emancipated, the poetry of the wayfarer
under broad skies, whether by land or sea.
Here is Mr. Lawson on shipboard :

" A god-like ride on a thundering sea.

When all but the stars are blind,
A desperate race from Eternity

With a gale-and-a-half behind.
A jovial spree in the cabin at night,

A song on the rolling deck,
A lark ashore with the ships in sight,

Till — a wreck goes down with a wreck.

A smoke and a yarn on the deck by day.

When Ufe is a waking dream,
And care and trouble so far away

That out of yoiu: life they seem.
A roving spirit in sympathy,

Who has travelled the whole world o'er —
My heart forgets, in a week at sea,

The trouble of years on shore."

The "simplifying sea" has not had many
more vigorous tributes.

One cannot help wishing that Mr. Lawson
would always write his poetry at sea ; then
he might keep bitterness out of it. As it is,
his bitterness is against him. In his prose
it rarely asserts itself, but in his pootry it
is always showing through the lines. We
cannot but regret it. A man with so keen
an eye for character, so vigilant an
observer, so sound a humorist as Mr.
Lawson proves himself to be in JFhile the
Bilhj Boils, is wasting time in reiterating
trite attacks on society. We would give
all his reflections on mankind in the abstract
for another lyric as good as this commentary
on Salvation Army persistence :

" When the kindly hours of darkness, save for

light of moon and star.
Hide the picture on the signboard over

Doughty's Horse Bazaar ;
When the last rose-tint is fading on the

distant mulga scrub,
Then the ' Army ' prays for Watty at the

entrance of his pub.

Now, I often sit at Watty's when the night

is very near,
With a head that's fidl of jingles and the

fumes of bottled beer.
For I always have a fancy that, if I am over

there,
When the ' Army ' prays for Watty, I'm

included in the prayer.

Watty lounges in his armchair, in its old

accustomed place.
With a fatherly expression on his round and

passive face ;
And his arms are clasped before him, in a

calm, contented way,
And he nods his head and dozes when he

hears the ' Army ' pray.

And I wonder does he ponder on the distant

years and dim,
Or his chances over yonder, when the

' Army ' prays for him ?
Has he not a fear connected with the warir

place down below,
where, according to good Christians, all

the pubhcans should go 't

But his features give no token of a feeling in

his breast.
Save of peace that is unbroken and a

conscience well at rest ;
And we guzzle as we guzzled long before the

' Army ' came.
And the loafers wait for ' shouters,' and —

they get there just the same.

It would take a lot of praying — lots of

thumping on the drum —
To prepare our sinful, straying, erring souls

for Kingdom Come ;
But I love my fellow-sinners, and I hope,

upon the whole,
That the ' Army ' gets a hearing when it

prays for Watty's soul."

That is a piece of true humour, and we look
to Mr. Lawson for more of the same
character.

Messrs. Turner & Sutherland, in their
work on The Bevelopment of Australian
Literature (Longmans & Co.), are severe
upon Mr. Lawson's reply to his critics under
the Byronic title "Australian Bards and
Bush Reviewers " ; but it seems to us he
has reason. It is annoying to have one's
name continually linked with a predecessor,
and Mr. Lawson has individuality of his
own which should liave been recognised
and respected. This is his retaliation :

"While you use your best endeavour to immor-
talise in verse

The gambling and the drink which are your
country's greatest curse.

While you glorify the bidly and take the
spieler's part —

You're a clever Southern writer, scarce inferior
to Bret Harte.

If you sing of waving grasses when the plains

are dry as bricks.
And discover shining rivers where there's only

mud and sticks ;
If you picture ' mighty forests ' where the

mulga spoils the view —
You're superior to Kendall, and ahe»d of

Gordon too.

If you swear there's not a country like the

land that gave you birth.
And its sons are just the noblest and most

glorious chaps on earth ;
If in every girl a Venus your poetic eye

discerns,
You arc gracefully referred to as the ' Young

Australian Burns.'

But if you should find that bushmen — spite
of all the poets say —

Are just common brother-sinners, and you're
quite as good as they —

You're a drunkard and a liar, a cynic and a
sneak.

Your grammar's simply awful and your in-
tellect is weak."

We like this. It has spirit. And Mr.
Lawson is too true to himself to care so
much for hostile opinion as to forswear his
own beliefs. Let him continue to find the
bushmen common brother-sinners, and to
write about their sinning and repenting,
and we, at any rate, will gladly read him.
Besides he has, what the Bush Reviewers
would seem to have overlooked, love of
Country. A poet with love of country has
at least one asset which must not be dis-
regarded. Mr. Lawson's patriotic poem,
" The Star of Australasia," is one of the
best things Australia has done.

PURE FABLES.

Classipioation.

The morning stars sang together.

And a person of delicate ear and nice
judgment discussed the singing at length,
and showed how and wherein one star
differed from another, and which was great
and which was not.

And still the morning stars sang together.

II.
TuE Untameable.

Fate forgot to clip a poet's wings. So
that there was no holding him, and his
friends despaired.

And then a book he had written began to
sell. And within the lapsing of a moon
you might have seen him eat sugar out of
ladies' hands.

III.

Medium.

A worker in verse made a book upon
Love, and got nothing for it. And a worker
in prose made a book upon the same matter,
and was able to take his family to BexhiU
for a week.

"It is a mundane world," said the
verseman.

"But it suits me very well," said the
proseman.

IV.

The Personal Note.

"Eheu!" sighed a poet, "The people
will not be moved ; and I have shown them
my heart ! "

" Thj heart," quoth his friend " is noth-
ing. . . . Show them Uuir men .' "

v.
Bodley.

A Bodley poet died, and passed imto the
country which hath been for the souls of
poets from the beginning.

And while he was yet newly arrived, a
company of souls waited upon liim with a
greeting, and inquired if he would be kind
enough to inform them how he chanced to
fare thither.

And he smiled and said, "I am the
author of certain slight verses."

" What name ? " demanded they.

And he told them his name.

"We have heard of you," they answered.
" Sixty-four heavy-leaded pages triennially !
Now, everybody here hath written totnei —
few, or many, according to the number of
his mortal years."

"Ah," remarked the Bodley poet, "and
everybody in the world of the flesh is saying
how badly all you fellows want editing
down."

VI.

Suggestion.
A man ranged cowslips on a stall, and
wondered how many he should give for a
penny.

And another man, passing, caught the
gleam and the odour of them, and had a
vision of a blue valley touched with gold,
and April scattering desultory rains.

T. W. H. C.

426

THE ACADEMY.

[ApRn- 16, 1898.

PAEI8 LETTEE.

(From our French Correspondent.)

Never was a published correspondence so
badly, so injudiciously edited as tbat of
Ernest Eenan and M, Berthelot. A man of
science may have attained all possible glory
in his special department, but that is in-
sufficient reason to regard himself as a
delightful or even an interesting letter-
writer. Never was a duUer, a more insig-
nificant correspondent than the eminent
M. Berthelot ; and yet, with an inexcusable
vanity, he publishes his thousand and one
mediocre and passably trivial letters to
Eenan, while the public only wanted
those of the immortal dead. One reads the
mighty tome to the bitter end, asking in
vain the word of the riddle. Who on
earth sighed for the letters of M. Berthelot,
of even Mme. Berthelot, of whom the
world has never heard, any more than we
have heard of hundreds of respectable
Mesdames Chose, excellent housekeepers,
faithful guardians of the bourgeois home,
with nothing to say, but who have the fortune
7iot to say it ? Among those of Eenan at
least half of the letters might have been
suppressed. Those relating to his family,
to his private affairs, have not the slightest
value. The public has nothing to learn
from the domestic side of Eenan' s character,
while the family, still living, has much to
resent and deplore in this futile desecration
of a much too recent existence. After
several centuries it is of the deepest interest
to humanity to read Philip II. 'a most charm-
ing domestic correspondence, because here we
are fronted with a psychological problem.
But poor Eenan, writing about whooping-
cough and scarlatina, says nothing the man
across the way might not have said, ex-
presses in our common language sentiments
common to the costermonger, the grocer,
and the peer.

The evil of this indiscriminate publication
lies in the fact that really important letters,
letters that here in Paris created a sensation,
and whose value wUl increase and not diminish
with posterity, are lost in a heap of rubbish.
Eenan's letters on Eome ought to have been
published apart, so impressive, so fresh, so
original are they. Here is a Eome new to
us : Eenan's Eome — a lucid creation. No
poet's dream this, no startling impressionism,
no revised Wincklemanism, but a point of
view solidly individual. " I had not under-
stood the meaning of a popular religion, ac-
cepted naively, without criticism by a people;
I had not understood a people ceaselessly
creating in religion, taking its dogmas in a
true and breathing fashion. Make no illu-
sion, this race is as Catholic as the Arabs of
the Mosque are Moslem. Its religion is the
religion, and to speak against it is to speak
against its interest, as it feels it, just as real
as every other need of nature." " I have
'pund in this people, in their faith, their
civilisation, an incomparable loftiness, poetry
and ideality." He went to Eome to sneer,
and remained to admire. There he found
nothing cheap, nothing vulgar, the ideal
everywhere. Paris, London, are centres of
comfort and profanity; Eome is the home of
the soul, the spirit, and the Madonna has

conquered Eenan. Here to dwell, renounc-
ing action, thought, criticism, nourished upon
soft impressions, adoring in spirit, living the
noble life of the soul. Hitherto he had in-
terpreted Catholicism through the abhorred
caste of priests and prelates ; now he recog-
nises it as a spontaneous and simple faith of
the people. " You would never believe how
much this race lives in the world of imagina-
tion." All tliese letters on Eome are of the
highest value. The pity they are lost among
so many of no value whatever.

Daudet's posthumous novel, Soutien de
Famille, is, like most of Daudet's recent work,
dull and heavy. Daudet mistook his voca-
tion, to our eternal regret. He was meant
to teach us the lesson of life through
laughter, with the fine point of irony im-
perceptibly blunted by tenderness. He was
a " little-son " (as a more significant term
than our own grandson) of Cervantes ; a
very little son, it is true, but family re-
semblance was strong enough to ensure our
gratitude and admiration. He was never
meant to preach, or to reform ; but the
latter-day morosity of fiction entered his
system like a fatal poison, and instead of
telling us, with his delicate Southern smile,
life for sure is a miserable farce, but let
us ag^ee to outwit destiny, and by our
gaiety turn it into a pleasantry, he took
it into his head to mount the pulpit, and
there detonate against modern vices and
exhort us to the practice of old-fashioned
virtues. Good enough, doubtless, for a
Tolstoi, an Ibsen, whose genius is fash-
ioned for this magnificent, but gloomy
task. But Ddudet! With Les C'ontes
Choisis, Le Petit Chose, Tartarin — the sub-
lime, the delicious, the unforgettable Tartarin
behind him ! The radiant, tender, ironical
Alphonse Daudet, with a severely buttoned
coat and high coUar, a pair of spectacles
instead of the interrogative and impertinent
eyeglass, the Merovingian mane plastered
into clerical order, voice toneless and severe,
vanished the sunny smile, the inapproach-
able delicacy of touch, the magic charm,
vanished the grace and wit. This is the
Daudet of Soutien de Famille. A notable
novel of a surety ; a scathing satire upon the
theatrical pomposity of the French attitude
in public and private life. A big business-
man, unable to meet his liabilities, commits
suicide, and orators and friends gather round
his eldest son, a vain and feeble lad, and
gloriously address him as the family bread-
winner. The boy is at once crushed by the
importance of his role. At school he con-
fides to a comrade his resemblance to Hamlet.
Both have a part to play beyond their power.
From dint of dwelling on his ruthless destiny,
the boy is for ever incapacitated for earning
even his own bread. He is supported first
by his mother, then by his younger brother,
then by his mistress, and, terrified by the
unexpected responsibility of fatherhood, be-
comes a soldier. Here he has no bread to
earn, nothing to think of but the automaton
march to " One, two ; One, two," and here
he finds his insignificant destiny.

The Revue de Paris this month publishes
the political manifestoes of the four brilliant
leaders of Parliament. Brilliant is, of
course, a relative term applied to a French
Parliamentarian. Heaven only knows

what French politics mean. Whatever
each party may have at heart, it certainly is
not the dignity of the nation, the respect of
law, of justice, of humanity. A Socialist
deputy defies the Government, qualifies the
magistrature as infamous, casts mud in hand-
fuls at constituted authority. The gratified
Chamber at once orders that the speech shall
be posted on the walls outside the House,
all over the city, and all over the country-.
One wonders why. M. Poineare, whose
manifesto is certainly the most remarkable
of the four, may be regarded as the spokes-
man of the Constitutional Eepublicans. He
believes, incorrigible pessimist that he is,
that the future is sufficiently obscure to
justify the darkest apprehensions. M.
Denys Cochin clamours for monarchy,
which is not particularly promising with
nothing better than a Duke of Orleans in
view. Alas ! poor France. H. L.

THE WEEK.

IT may be many years before the world
receives all that can be given to it of the
writings of Sir Eichard F. Burton. It was
Burton's habit to work at several books at a
time. Books, or partly executed works,
were apt to accumulate on his hands, and
on his death, in addition to forty-eight pub-
lished works, there remained twenty MSS.
in different stages of completion. Lady
Burton was arranging for the successive
publication of these books when she died ;
and now the task of dealing with them has
been entrusted by her sister, Mrs. Fitzgerald,
to Mr. W. H. Wilkins, who, as is well
known, enjoyed the confidence of Lady
Burton. Mr. Wilkins gives interesting
accounts in his preface to The Jew, The
Gypsy, and El Islam, just issued. "The
first part— 'The Jew,' " writes Mr. Wilkins,

" has a somewhat curious history. Burton
collected most of the materials for writing it
from 1869 to 1871, when he was Consul at
Damascus. His intimate knowledge of Eastern
races and languages, and his sympathy with
Oriental habits and lines of thought, gave him
exceptional facilities for ethnol"gical studies of
this kind. Disguised as a native, and unknown
to any living soul except his wife, the British
Consul mingled freely with the motley popula-
tions of Damascus, and inspected every quarter
of the city — Muslim, Christian, and Jewish.
His inquiries bore fruit in material, not only for
this general essay on the Jew, but for an
appendix dealing with the alleged rite of
human sacrifice among the Sephardim or
Eastero Jews, and more especially the mys-
terious murder of Padre Tomaso at Damascus in
1840. There is little doubt that his inquiry into
these subjects was one of the reasons which
aroused the hostility of the Damascus Jews
against him ; and that hostility was a powerful
factor, though by no means the only one, in his
recall by Lord Granville in 1871."

Burton several times thought of publish-
ing his work on " The Jew" ; but the advice ,
of friends, and considerations of self-interest,
deterred him. He fully intended, however,
to issue the book when he had retired from j
the Consular Service. He died five months j
before his term of office (at Trieste) had j
expired. Mr. Wilkins is therefore fully]

April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

427

justified in puWishing the book now ; but
he still withholds the startling appendix on
the alleged rite of human sacrifice among
the Sephardfm and the murder of Padre
Tomaso.

Concerning the second sketch, "The
Gypsy," Mr. Wilkins writes :

" Burton's interest in the Gypsies was life-
long ; and when he was a lieutenant in the
Bombay army and quartered in Sindh, he
began his investigations concerning the affinity
between the Jats and the Gypsies. During his
many travels in different parts of the world,
whenever he had the opportunity, he collected
fresh materials with a view to putting them
together some day. In 1S75 his controversy
with BataUlard provoked him into compiling
his long contemplated work on the Gypsies.
Unfortunately other interests intervened, and
the work was never completed. It was one of
the many unfinished things Burton intended to
complete when he should have quitted the
Consular Service. . . . Even as it stands,
however, ' The Gypsy ' is a valuable addition
to ethnology ; for apart from Burton's rare
knowledge of strange peoples and tongues, his
connexion with the Gypsies lends to the subject
a unique interest. There is no doubt that he
was affihated to this strange people by nature,
if not by descent."

The third paper, "El Islam; or. The
Eank of Muhammadanism among the Re-
ligions of the World," is one of the oldest
of the Burton MSS. Mr. Wilkins judges it
to have been written soon after Burton's
pilgrimage to Mecca in 1853.

The new biographical edition of the
Complete Works of W. M. Thackeray,
which Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co. have
projected, is inaugurated this week by the
publication of Vanity Fair. Thackeray
wished that no biography of him should
appear. It is certain that the world has
never ceased to desire one. Hence the
compromise effected in this edition of his
works. Mrs. Ritchie, his daughter, will
contribute to each volume in this edition her
memories of the circumstances under which
her father produced it. Such memoirs,
when complete, cannot fall far short of being
an actual biography. For example, we have
a biographical introduction to Vanity Fair
forty pages in length, and in it Mrs.
Ritchie contrives to give much information
about its author, beginning — not in 184.5,
the date of the book — but in 1817, "when
the little boy, so lately come from India,
found himseQ shut in behind those filigree
iron gates at C his wick of which he writes
when he describes Miss Pinkerton's estab-
lishment." We select for quotation the
following passage in Mrs. Ritchie's sketch,
relating to the launching of Vanity Fair :

"I still remember going along Kensington
Gardens, with my sister and our nurse-maid,
carrying a parcel of yellow numbers, which she
had given us to take to some friend who Uved
across the Park ; and as we walked along,
somewhere near the gates of the Gardens, we
met my father, who asked us what we were
carrying. Then, somehow, he seemed vexed
and troubled, told us not to go on, and to take
the parcel home. Then he changed his mind,
saying that if his grandmother wished it, the
books had best be conveyed ; but we guessed,
as children do, that something was seriously
amiss. The sale of Vanity Fair was so small

that it was a question at that time whether its
pubUcation should not be discontinued alto-
gether. I have always been told that it was
Mrs. Perkins's Ball which played the part of
pilot or steam-tug to that great line-of-battle
ship Vanity Fair, and which brought it safely
off the shoals. In later days I have heard my
father speak of those times, and say that besides
Mrs. Perkins' B Ball a review in the Edinburgh
Review by Mr. S. Hayward greatly helped the
sale of Vanity Fair. We have still one or two
of the early designs of the Vanity Fair draw-
ings—Jos holding Becky's skein ; old Sedley in
his coffee-house, with his head in his hands,
waiting for prosperity to come back to him ;
and, among the rest, Becky at the fancy fair
selling to Dobbin with two or three hats fitted
on to his head and shoulders. There is also a
little sepia suggestion for the picture of Becky's
first introduction to a baronet, and a first rough
suggestion for the cover, two little pencil
warriors with a flying pennant, on which are
inscribed the titles of the book."

Mrs. Ritchie has this tantalising note
about Miss Becky Sharp :

" I may as well also state here, that one
morning a hansom drove up to the door, and
out of it emerged a most charming, dazzling
little lady dressed in black, who greeted my
father with great affection and brilliancy, and
who, departing presently, gave him a large
bunch of fresh violets. This was the only time
I ever saw the f ascinatiog bttle person, who was
by many supposed to be the original of Becky.''

Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co. have selected a
simple red binding for the series, with
Thackeray's initials in monogram on the
front cover, and the illustrations are Thack-
eray's own. The edition has real importance.

THE BOOK MARKET.

AMERICAN PRICES FOR ENGLISH
BOOKS.

THAT America is draining the Old Country
of her books is a commonplace of
book-seUing. One wonders how long it wiU
be before English collectors will have to
send to New York for treasures which are
becoming every year fewer in their own
country. Doubtless, such a day is still far
o£E. But how formidable the American
collector has become may be gathered from
a long and elaborate list of prices fetched
by books in New York since 1856, which tlie
Neiv York Times has just published. The
year 1856 was selected as the starting-point
of the list, because in that year, for the first
time, a book was sold in New York for
200 dols. (about £40). The list includes
the most significant prices obtained on
aU the important sales held in New York
since that date. As showing, therefore,
the growth of book-collecting in America,
it has historical interest. We cannot
print an eight part of it ; but we have
thought it interesting to give a list of prices
(in English money) paid in New York
during the last seven years for English
standard works in rare editions. We re-
produce, also, the Neiv York Times' biblio-
graphical notes :

Milton's " Comus," dark blue mo-
rocco, by Matthews

£85 0 0

Milton's " Lycidas," dark blue mo-
rocco, by Bedford £63 0 0

(The only copies of "Comus"
and "Lycidas" that have come
into an American auction room.
Now in the possession of Marshall
C. Lefferts. They were once Mr.
Kalbfleisch's.and later Mr.Foote's,
both of whom disposed of them
at private sale.)

MUtou's " Paradise Lost " 43 0 0

(First edition, and the issue
with the author's name in large
capitals. Comer of last leaf
mended. Turner's copy, which
brought £33.)

Barclay's " Ship of Fools," London,
printed by Pynson, 1509, brown

morocco, by Bedford 165 0 0

(Now in library of Marshall
C. Lefferts.)

Shakespeare's " MidsTimmer Night's
Dream," 1600, James Roberts, red
morocco, by Haday 145

Shakespeare's "Lear," 1603, Na-
thaniel Butler, short imprint ... 85

Shakespeare's "Borneo and Juliet,"
n. d. 105

(Utterson's copy, which brought
£19.)

Shakespeare's " Troilus and Cres-
seid," 1609, red morocco, by Bed-
ford

Shakespeare's " Merry Wives,"
1619, original covers

Shakespeare's "Eichard the Third,"
1622

Shakespeare's "Poems," red mo-
rocco, by Bedford

(Shakespeare.) "Sir John Old-
castle," 1600

Shakespeare's " Venus and Adonis,"
1636, blue morocco, by Bedford

(One of two known perfect
copies, the other being in the
British Museum. Brought
£4& lOg. in London in 1856; re-
bound by Bedford, was sold in
1857 for £56. Later pa'sed into
the possession of Almon W. Gris-
wold ; purchased at Ives sale by
Marsden J. Perry, of Providence,
E. I. ; at Corser sale' it had
brought £i)5.)

(Hieronymus.) "Vitas Patrum,"
printed by De Worde

(The Perkins copy, which
brought £ 1 80. Now in library of
Marshall C. Lefferts.)

" Laws of Virginia," 1662

(Title-page torn slightly.)

AUot's "England's Parnassus,"
purple morocco, by Bedford

Braithwaite's " Bamabae Itinera-
rium," blue morocco, by Eamage.

E. B. Browning's "Battle of
Marathon," uncut, morocco, by
Eiviere

(8 by 5J. Cost Mr. Foote in
London £14.)
Browning's "PauUue," uncut, orig-
inal boards

Cowley's "Poetical Blossoms," blue
morocco, by Walker

158

150

100

230

0 0

72 0 0

41 0 0

0 0
0 0

06 0 0

0 0
0 0

428

THE ACADEMY.

[Apkil 16, 1898.

De Foe's " Robinson Orasoe," three
volumes, red morocco, by Bedford.
(Now in library of H. C.
Sturges.)

Goldsmith's " Vicar of Wakefield,"
two volumes, levant morocco, by
Biviere

(Cost Mr. Foote, in New York,
75 dols. Now in Boston Public
Library.)

Gray's " Elegy," morocco, by
Riviere

Herbert's "Temple," Cambridge,
Thos.Buck and Roger Daniel, n.d.
(6 by 3 3-16. One of two
known copies of the undated
edition of "The Temple," the
other being in the Huth library.
At the Brand sale in 1807 it was
bought by Richard Heb'-r for
£3, and was resold at his sale in
1834 for £10. At Pickering sale,
1854, was resold for £10 los.,
and again at Daniel sale, 18()4,
for £30 10s. About twenty years
later Mr. Foote paid 250 dols. for
it in this city. It is now in the
Hoe library.)

L'iiub's "Rosamond Gray," uncut,

blue morocco, by Ruban

(6| by 4^. Cost Mr. Foote, in
London, £5.)

Lamb's " Poetry for Children," two
volumes, original calf ...

(Now in library of E. D.
Church.)

Lamb's "Prince Doras," uncut,
original covers
(Now in library of Dean Sage.)

Lovelace's " Lucasta," morocco,
by Stikeman

Milton's "Poems," morocco, by
Ruban

Milton's " Paradise Lost," morocco,
by Alfred Matthews

(First edition and the issue
with the author's name in small
capitals 7| by o|. Cost Mr.
Foote, in New York, 65 dollars.
Now in library of W. A. White.)

Tennyson's " Idylls," morocco, by
Ruban

(Proof sheets, with Tennyson's
corrections, of "Enoch Arden."
Cost Mr. Foote, in London, £10.
Now in library of Harry B.
Smith.)

Caxton's " Chronicle of England,"
1480

(110 leaves between signatures
C and S. Gardner's copy.)

Milton's "Paradise Lost"

(First edition, and the issue
with the author's name in small
capitals.)

Shakespeare ; First Folio, red mo-
rocco, by Stamper

( 1 1| by 7§. Verses, title-page,
except portrait, preliminary
leaves, and last four leavea of
Cymbeline in facsimile.)

Shakespeare : Third Folio

(Title-page, first preliminary
leaf, and last leaf in /ac«i7ni7e.)

62 0 0

68 0 0

54 0 0

210 0 0

46 0 0

42 0 0

60 0 0

70 0 0

84 0 0

48 0 0

44 0 0

74 0 0

105 0 0

Shakespeare's " King John," 1611
(The Steevens and Roxburghe
copy. At Steevens sale, £1 ISs. ;
at Roxburghe sale, £1 3s.)

Shakespeare's "Richard the Se-
cond," 1634, morocco, by Ham-
mond ... ■■• •••

Spenser's " Shepheard's Calendar,"

1586

(The Roxburghe, Sykes, and
Heber copy. At Roxburghe sale,
£21 ; at Sykes sale, £9 ; at He-
ber sale, £3 33. ; resold in 1854
for £4 10s.

A significant thing in the above list is the
high prices which the American collector
is willing to give for the rare editions of
such modem writers as Lamb, Browning,
and Tennyson. The list is, indeed,
suggestive reading ; how ripe and English
must be some bookshelves in the palaces
of New York and Boston. Yet, who
knows?— the wind of fashion veers strangely,
and perhaps Englishi collectors will ere long
be keen buyers of Mather's Wtmukwhonk
en Christianene, Dickinson's God Protecting
Providence, "Williams's Bloody Tenant yet
more Bloody, Alsop's Character of the Province
of Maryland, and other American tit-bits.

What, then, is the literary value of Mr.
David Belasco's latest handiwork 1 I am
afraid the answer must be " nil." Mr.
Belasco enjoys a certain reputation in
the United States as a dramatist, but it is
that of a " nailer-up " — as the Americans
graphically express it — rather than an in-
ventor of dramatic effects. One looks in
vain in this latest Adelphi production for
any freshness of idea or any originality of
treatment, though we are given to understand
that " The Heart of Maryland " has, during
the past two years, enjoyed a considerable
degree of success in its own country. That
this should be so augurs ill for the success
of the American invasion of the London
West End theatres, which the Froliman
management is now so energetically con-
ducting. " Secret Service " was, no doubt,
a play of exceptional merit ; but, generally
speaking, the American drama occupies a
lower level than the English. The proper
home of such a piece as " The Heart of
Maryland " is not the Adelphi, but the
Surrey. American invention exhausts itself
in mechanical pursuits ; it has none left for
the stage.

45 0 0

DRAMA.

TWO AMEKICAN PLAYS.

" TpjLUS (ja change, plus c'est la meme
\ chose," said Alphonse Karr on one
occasion of French Ministries. The remark
might very properly be applied to melodrama
apropos of the annual visits paid lis by the
American companies under the control of
the Frohman management. Outwardly
there is little resemblance between "The
Heart of Maryland," now being presented at
the Adelphi, and the class of entertainment
with which the theatre has so long been
identified. " The Heart of Maryland," like
its immediate predecessor, " Secret Ser-
vice," is a story of the American Civil
War. Almost without exception the male
characters wear the uniform of the North
or the South; the female interest, such
as it is, is wholly identified with the
combatants on one side or the other;
questions of military movements, tactics,
treatment of prisoners, espionage, and other
incidentals of campaigning constitute the
burden of the action. But at bottom the
story is identical with tbat of the conven-
tional melodrama associated with the names
of Pettitt, Sims, and other popular
purveyors. The villain basely plots against
the heroine's honour and the hero's life,
and after all but succeeding is duly foiled
and handed over to justice, so that the
curtain falls upon a happy ending. Nothing
is really changed but the clothes and the
names of the dramatis persona. As usual,
the action works up to a sensational device
in the third act ; but even this exhibits no
novelty, being reproduced from a melodrama
75 0 0 of fifty years ago, written by a once well-
known, but now forgotten, journeyman of
letters, Albert Smith.

100 0 0

79 0 0

100 0 0

Such interest as "The Heart of Mary-
land " may inspire depends solely upon its
somewhat opportune presentment of the
features of grim-visaged war. Fighting is
supposed to be going on in the wings in
every act; the noise of artillery is un-
ceasing ; files of prisoners and wounded
men cross the stage at intervals; laconic
messages are constantly being received and
despatched ; the stage resounds with hoarse
and unintelligible words of commancj. If
this is not war up-to-date, it sufficiently
fulfils the public notion of war. Drama,
however, it is not. The first two acts
convey no coherent idea to the spectator ; it
is impossible to tell in what relation the
five-and-twenty or thirty characters, an
army in themselves, stand to each other.
From first to last, indeed, the author never
succeeds in interesting us in the fate or for-
tunes of any particular set of characters.
A Southern lady is understood to be in love
with an officer on the opposite side, but the
latter proves a very mediocre sort of hero,
who is not called upon to do anything more
heroic than to fold his arms and scowl when,
being caught within the enemy's lines, he is
accused of being a spy. More sympathetic
is the character of a Southern general, who,
recognising in this same suspected spy his
own son, promptly orders him to be court-
martialled. Meanwhile an undoubted
traitor is an officer high up in the Southern
service, who is in secret communication with
the enemy ; and at the very headquarters of
the Southern forces sympathy with the
North is manifested in a practical form.
The greater part of the action, in short, is
confusing, very like war possibly, but not
in the least like a well-made drama, with
issues clearly and unmistakably standing
out.

Whither the author's plans are tending
one does not perceive till half the play is
over. Then it begins to be seen that the
villain, one Colonel Thorpe, in the Southern

April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

429

service, is not only false to his own side but
has designs upon the heroine also, to whose
lover. Colonel Kendrick, of the Federal army,
ho hears a deadly grudge ; and the situation
thus created reaches its climax when,
Thorpe having refused to save Kendrick
from execution as a supposed spy, the
heroine secures her lover's escape, and then
hangs on to the clapper of a huge bell
to prevent its being rung to alarm the
guard. This is the device which Mr.
Belasco has borrowed from Albert Smith,
and it may be regarded as at least not less
effective than Mr. Vincent Crummles's real
pump and water. The length and tlie
extreme insignificance of the cast render it
difficult to identify half the performers whoso
names are set forth in the programme.
What is still more unfortunate, the acting,
in the case of the handful of characters
who bear the story on their shoulders, does
not rise above the transpontine or East End
standard, though this may be mainly the
author's fault. Mrs. Leslie Carter, a society
actress, who has taken to the stage rather
late in life, exliibits a certain degree of
power as the heroine, and Mr. Maurice
Barrymore as the hero, Mr. E. J. Morgan as
the villain, and Mr. Harry Harwood as a
bustling Southern general, stand out
creditably from the mass of their associates.

A MUCH more successful American venture
is the importation to the Shaftesbury of the
comj)any of the Casino Theatre — the Gaiety
of New York — who bring with them an
olla podrida of the sort popularised in this
country by the late Fred. Leslie and Mr.
Arthur Roberts, an omnibus piece run by
clever music-hall comedians, singers and
dancers, on go-as-you-please lines. The
Belle of New York, as this mixture is called,
is scarcely so coherent in plan as the "musical
comedy " of the day — it belongs more to
the extravaganza or burlesque which
flourished in this country ten years ago —
but there is no reason why it should not
appeal to the public who support " The
Circus Girl " and " The Geisha," and the
still more numerous patrons of the music-
hall. At the head of the Casino Company
there is an eccentric actor of considerable
originality, Mr. Dan Daly, quaint, drily
humorous and resourceful, who helps
largely to make the performance the success
it is. But there are at least half-a-dozen
other members of the company who on the
English variety stage would attract attention
and command popularity. Among these
may be mentioned Miss Edna May, a sweet
singer and graceful actress, well-qualified
to play the part of "the belle" for which
she is cast ; Miss Phyllis Rankin, who also
sings attractively ; Mr. J. E. Sullivan, an
unctuous low comedian ; and various eccen-
trics of one kind and another, including
a whistler and a male dancer, both of whom
bring down the house by their respective
tours de force. In fact, the performance is
remarkably rich in music-hall " turns " and
in grotesque odds and ends of characterisa-
tion. The " book," which is by Mr. Hugh
Morton, is of a weU-contrived omnibus
character, while the score, by Mr. Gustave
Kerker, is always lively, and embraces one or

two pretty songs. The whole performance
is pervaded by a characteristically American
flavour which ought to prove agreeable to
the frivolous-minded public.

J. F. N.

BOOK REVIEWS REVIEWED.

" American Wives M.US,. GeBTRUDE AtHERTOn's
and English . ,• • j.i, x n

Husbands." By treatise, in the form oi a
Atterton novel, on international mar-
riages has been widely and
favourably reviewed. The Saturday Revieio's
critic prefaces his praise by recalling the
" crude vulgarity of Patience Sparhawk,'' a
work which, he thinks, in no wise indicated
the advent of that first-rate woman-novelist
which America "has long wanted." But
American Wives and English Husbands shows
a great advance. He writes :

"The plot might easily have been stronger,
especially in its fiaal catastrophe ; at least four
or five subsidiary characters could well be
spared, and Mrs. Atherton's narrative style
lapses from its usual lucid correctness frequently
enough to exasperate the English reader.
These things, however, should count but small
obstacles ia the way of Mrs. Atherton's pro-
gress towards the distinction we believe to be
waiting for her, and we base our belief much
less on her present power to tell clearly an
interesting story and to draw credible characters
than on her very singular comprehension of the
two widely sundered famihes of the Anglo-
Saxon race."

The final catastrophe to which the critic
takes objection does not, he thinks, seriously
mar the story :

" After all, the real interest of the story
inheres in her relations with her husband.
The shock of the conflict of two temperaments
so wholly antagonistic could not fail, oven with
less competent treatment, to be of interest;
and in Mrs. Atherton's hands the quiet, un-
obtrusive drama of character becomes of the
highest significance. The principal merit of
the book resides not merely in pictm-esque
description, not merely in vivacious dialogue
and graphic story-telliug, but above all in
Mrs. Atherton's power to deal broadly and
strongly with the broad and strong passions of
Hfe as they are visible in acute racial conflicts."

The Spectator's critic is not so enthusiastic
as some of his brothers. He writes :

"The book is a strange compound of ex-
travagance and intuition. Mrs. Atherton is, on
the whole, a far severer critic of her com-
patriots than of us, though she certainly does
not spare the venal aristocrats of the Old
Country. Her sympathies, again, are much
more with the South and the West than with
the North or East. New England does not
appeal to her, and Chicago excites her anti-
pathy. The denouement strikes us as rather
strained, the betrothal of the children absurd,
and the admirable Cecil a decided prig. But
the American women are drawn from the hfe ;
and in depicting their love of life and pleasure
and admiration, as well as their capacity for
hatred, Mrs. Atherton writes with a sort of
fierceness that is curiously impressive."

" Claudius Clear," of the British Weekly,
thinks this story should place Mrs. Atherton
in the front rank of women novelists. He
concludes by drawing its moral :

"As for the lessons, they are plain enough.
If a man marries an American woman for her

money, and for her money only, without respect
and without love, he will suffer for it, and pro-
bably suffer more than he would if he married
an EngUsh wife under similar circumstances.
On the other hand, if a man marries an American
woman for love, the condition of happiness is
that one or the other should be wilhug to merge
individuality. It is hard for the woman to do
so. If she is brilUant and beautiful, she has
experienced such courtship and reverence as
English girls know nothing of. It will be very
hard for her to lay this aside and to be satisfied
with a share in the life of her husband. Even
if she does it for a while she may not do it
always. It is pretty clear that things in the
happy marriage of this book might very easily
have gone wrong. If the wife had gone to Cali-
fornia her married hfe would have been wrecked.
On the other hand, things being as they were,
the husband had the superior brightness of
America, and the loss was all the wife's. But
I suppose Mrs. Atherton would say that if an
Enghsh husband could be found to merge his
individuahty in that of an American wife, the
marriage in that case also would be happy.
That, however, would be a far more difficult
thing, and probably the authoress intends to
tell us that the marriage of an American wife
with an English husband ia in all cases a great
risk, but that if it is happy it may be the most
happy of all marriages. However, these are
considerations with which most of us are not
troubled, being contented in our own country.
What will win readers to this volume is, as I
have said, the extreme freshness, relish,
vivacity, and grace of the treatment. What
the typical American girl is among women,
that American Wives and English Husbands is
among novels."

"There is not a dull page in the book ;
it is informed throughout with that most
fascinating quality . in all works of art — the
point of view " : thus the critic of the Baily

News.

„,^ „ , ■ The Times critic is, to say the

"ThcSundenng , ,, -rr- • • j.

Hood." least, cold. His opinion of

^^Morris*™ ^^' Morris's prose romances
is thus briefly expressed :

" These attempts to re-create an imaginary
past are more fit for poetry than for prose,
however archaic ; and whereas Wilham Morris,
in the Earthly Paradise, succeeded in producing
an extraordinary illusion of reality, the same
cannot be said of his prose romances: The Water
of the Wondrous Isles, TliC Sundering Flood, and
the rest of them. At best they are good
imitations of The Four Sons of Aymon and
similar old friends; though William Morris
had so steeped himself in mediajval literature
and art, and was himself so true a poet, that
his imitations are a very different thing from
those of anybody else. We notice that this
comely volume, though published by Messrs.
Longman, bears the ominous statement,
' Printed by John Wilson and Sjn at the
University Press in Cambridge, U.S.A.' Is this
to be a common result of the American Copy-
right Act ? Arc English pubHshers, in order to
save the expense of double printing, going
habitually to have their books set up in
America ? "

The Standard critic is much of the same
mind. He thinks that the late Mr. Morris's
prose romances are very hard to classify : he
would call them " affectations, fumes,
literary bric-a-brac." The anachronisms in
the story are acutely dealt with, regard
being had to the fact that the story is put
into the mouth of a friar of Abingdon :

"At p. 6 we read that 'there was no

430

THE ACADEMY.

[Apsil 16. 1898.

great man amongst them, neither king, nor
earl, nor alderman.' The terms give a date at
once, which is not seriously disturbed by words
like ' kenspeckle,' ' graithly,' ' birdalone,' nor
by such surnames as Wulfgrimsson and Thomas-
son. AU this is near enough for romance.
But at p. 76 we find ' bever ' used for
meat and drink, a good fourteenth - century
word, but of very ill-aceord with the others ;
soon afterwards we have a baron to fit in with
our alderman as best we may ; he is ' preux,'
this bsron. We read of ' rascaile ' used col-
lectively of the ' Aunturs of King Arthur and
Sir Gawaine ' ; more than all, at p. 359, we
come plump upon a House of Friars ! Now, to
speak of fnars is to speak of a date as certain
as that of the Diamond Jubilee. There were
assuredly no aldermen when the Minorites
landed in England. Of course, Mr. Morris, in
his pose of fourteenth - century clerk, might
anacbronise to any extent ; he might throw
friars back as far as he chose ; but then he
should not drag Anglo-Saxon terms (which the
fourteenth-century could not know) forward to
meet them. Sir Walter Scott introduced a friar
into Ivanhoe at an age when friars were not ;
and he talked in the Fair Maid of Perth of
' evening mass ' ; but Sir Walter never tried to
be a modireval clerk. He was himself, wrote
his own language, and became immortal. This
also is just wbat Chaucer did, and this Mr.
Morris did when for once he wrote News from
Nowhere, and succeeded in being far more truly
of Chaucer's company than ever before or
since."

The critic of the Outlook pMlosopliises on
Mr. Morris's mission as a writer of Early
English as follows :

" To know why this book is penned so curi-
ously, you have to learn that there was once a
period when the English people had Latinised
their language into dulness ; and (with that
swing of the pendulum by which all things are
worked among the violent and incontinent
sons of men) there forthwith arose a number of
young writers who discovered that Saxon was
pictorial, and went headlong to Saxonise the
language, aud thrust out Latin with a pitchfork.
Amongst these wielders of the pitchfork none
was more eager than Mr. Morris, none so un-
compromising with the evil thing, nor so
sedulous in setting his gardens with slips from
Early English. For a time the movement
triumphed exceedingly, to the great ultimate
good of our tongue ; simple and Saxon
English was preached to the young Uttfyateur
—even by Tit-Bits — while the extremer spirits
began to write something as near Early
English as gods and publishers would stand.
Alas ! tamim ttsqae recurret ! And this is why
this waif of the Saxon movement comes like a
last year's leaf into a day which knows it not
— a relic of the day when tes jeunes were
Saxonising, in a day when les jeunes are
Latinising and the pendulum is swinging
slowly and surely to the other side again. For
les Jeunes are always on the side of depressed
causes, and we have to redress the balance by
bearing the Latin standard, because they
advanced too exterminatingly the Saxon stan-
dard. It is a strange lesson on the durability
of schools and movements, this book. Even
Rossetti scarce remained faithful to the cause
in its sternness ; witness the elaborate Latinisms
of his sonnets. But Mr. Morris, no less an
Abdiel in literature than Mr. Holman Hunt in
painting, even from the grave sends forth this
testimony to a cause lost through the extremity
of its triumph ; being dead, he yet speaketh—
Early English. It is so short a while ago that
movement, yet already we have to be reminded
why he talks this tongue."

The Batlff Chronicle's critic once more in-
dulges in good-natured mimicry of the
author's Saxon :

" The book, though not by any means the
noblest piece of the Master's work, is a worthy
conclusion to it. The story is much clearer and
more direct than the Wondrous Isles, and it is
entirely free from any puzzling suggestions of
allegory of which that romance had plenty.
At the same time, it loses perhaps in the sense
of mystery which fairy romance demands.
There is nothing really unked or henspeckle
about it ; and furthermore, we had liefer be in
love with Birdalone of the /ste than with
Elfhild, gracious and loving though she is.
The story is indeed the life of a man, as the
Isles was of a woman, and as such there is little
to wyte in it. For in sooth if one called it a
right good book, us seemeth he were not over
big-wordy, and we should yeasay him. More-
over, if some humble clerk at the hour of bever
goes to a cheaping-shop, and louting low to the
drudgling giveth him the sele of the day, and
asketh for this book, nor is debt-tough but
draweth from his pouch the half of one silver
mark, we do him to wit that belike he will make
good catch ; for it is the Master's voidee-cup."

BOOKS RECEIVED.

Week ending Thursday, April 14.

THEOLOGICAL AND BIBLICAL.

Order of Divine Service for Paim Stjnday,
According to the Use of the Church
OF Rome. London and Leamington Art
and Book Co.

Pilate's Gift, and Other Sermons. By
the Eight Eev. G. A. Chadwick, D.D.
Religious Tract Society. 5s.

The Service of the Mass in the Greek
AND Roman Churches. By the Eev.
Charies H. H. Wright, D.D., Ph.D. The
Religious Tract Society. Is.

The Camrridoe Bible for Schools and
Colleges : the Book of the Prophet
Isaiah, Chapters xl.— lxvi. With
Introduction and Notes by the Eev. J.
Skinner, D.D. Cambridge University
Press. 4s.

Hymns from East and West : Being Trans-
lations FROM the Poetry of the Latin
and Greek Churches, Arranged in the
Order of the Christian Year. By the
Eev. John Brownlie. James Nisbet & Co.

HISTOET AND BIOGEAPHY.

The Jew, the Gypsy, and El Islam. By
the late Captain Sir Richard P. Burton.
Edited, with a Preface and Brief Notes, by
W. Wilkins. Hutchinson & Co.

Syria and Egypt from the Tell el
Amarna Letters. By W. M. Flinders
Petrie. Methuen & Co. 2s. 6d.

William Moon and His Work for the
Blind. By John Rutherford. Hodder &
Stoughton.

POETRY, CRITICISM, BELLES LETTRES.

Stories from Dante. By Norley Chester.
Frederic Wame & Co. 3s. 6d.

SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY.

An Elementary Course op Physics. Edited
by Rev. J. C. P. Aldous, M.A. Macmillan
& Co. 78. 6d.

Notes on Observations : Being an Outline
OF the Methods Used for Determining
THE Meaning and Value of Quanti-
tive Observations and Experiments in
Physics and Chemistry, and fob Re-
ducing the Results Obtained. By
Sydney Lupton, M.A. Macmillan & Co.
3s. 6d.

Reflections on the Formation and Distri-
bution OF Riches. By Turgot, 1770.
The Macmillan Co. 3g.

Elementary Chemistry, Practical and
Theoretical. By T. A. Cheetham, F.C.8.
Blackie & Son. Is. 6d.

Essays on Museums and Other Subjects
Connected with Natural History. By
Sir William Henry Fowler, K.C.B. Mac-
millan & Co. 12s.

NEW EDITIONS OF FICTION.

The Jealousies of a Country Town (Les
RiVALlTfis). By H. de Balzac. Trans-
lated by EUen Marriage. With a Preface
by George Saintsbury. J. M. Dent & Co.

The Frozen Pirate. By W. Clark Russell.
Sampson Low. 6d.

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY.

Arch^ological Survey of India: Revised
Lists of Antiquarian REiiAnfs in the
Bombay Presidency. Vol. VIII. The
Queen's Empire: a Pictorial and De-
scriptive Record. Vol. I. Cassell &
Co. 9s.

Through Persia on a Side-Saddle. By
Ella C. Sykes. A. D. Innes & Co.

EDUCATIONAL.

The University Tutorial Series : a History
OF Rome. By W. F. Masom, M.A., and
W. J. Woodhouse, M.A. W. B. CHve.
4s. 6d.

Ancient Classics for English Readers :
Lucretius ; Pindar. (Cheap re-issue.)
Is. each.

JUVENILE.

Bulbs and Blossoms. By Amy Le Feuvre.
ReUgious Tract Society.

MISCELLANEOUS.

The Grand Tactics of Chess : an Exposi-
tion OF the Laws and Principles of
Chess Strategetics. By Franklin K.
Young. Roberts Brothers (Boston, U.S.A.).

The New York Fire Department : a Paper
by Hugh Bonner, Chief Officer. C. &
E. Layton. Is.

Egyptian Self-Taught (Arabic): with
English Phonetic Pronunciation. By
C. A. Thimm, F.R.G.S. E. Marlborough
& Co. 2s.

Victorian Era Series: the Free-Trads
Movement and its Results. By 0:]
Armitage Smith, M.A. Blackie & Son
2s. 6d.

April 16, 1898.]

THE ACADEMY.

431

Price SIX SHITiLlNGS.

THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

Ko. 38J, will l;e iiublished on APRIL I8lh.
Cont»:nts.
I. THE STATK and CONDITIONS of LABOUR.
II. RECENT SOLAR ECLireES.

III. EN(;LISII JESUITS «u<l SCOTTISH INTRIGUES, 1581.81!.

IV. liE.VERAL BOUKBAKI

V. B.^BVLONIAN lUSCOVEKIES.
TI. NOVEM of AMERICAN LIFE.

MR, MURRAY'S

NEW EDITION

BYRON'S POETICAL

F. V WHITE & CO.'S LIST.

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