LITERARY.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 42, 18 February 1905, Page 10

LITERARY.

I Longman's Colonial Library Tβ so well and favourably known that new ad- . ditions to its volumes can always claim ■ attention. The names of Conan Doyle, Kider Haggard, Stanley Weyman, and other popular writers indicate the high, level of merit to which this library of fiction attains. The general average of it 3 novels is well above mediocrity, which is saying a good deal in this age of multitudinous writers of indifferent tales. Among the latest of the issues in this library are "A Daughter of Jael," by Lady Eidley, "The Tiger of Muscovy," by j Fred Wishaw, and ''The Ring from Jaipur/, by Frances M. Peard. All three are very readable novels. "One cannot live down the past— that's what it comes to—however hard one may try," says one of the charaej ters in "A Daughter of Jael." And that I is the keynote of this painful but powerI ful story. - A young girl is driven by love for her young brother to a deed of dreadful crime. A crnel, miserly grandfather is ruining the boys life —why not set the latter free by removing the cause of-his. oppression? "She would be doing a good deed," ran the girl's thoughts, "as one or two other women, , famous in the world's history, had done before her—ridding the earth of the : tyrant, the evil-doer, the oppressor." But she applies the fatal cWorof ornied handI kerchief with the full consciousness that j though her crime may never be discoverj cd the memory of it will darken all her j future life. "She saw that the way beI fore her would be horrible, haunted, lonely; but come what might, she was i resolved to follow it to the end." The I murder is never discovered, never even jsuspected, and the girl's dreadful secret j remains her own. The love-story which, i follows, with the gradual change it i brings from remorse to and £ha dreadful return from happiness to haunting misery, should be left to the reader te unravej. The central figure of "The Tiger of Muscovy/ , by Fred Wishsw, is that Tsar jof evil name, Ivan the Terrible, a pleasant autocrat who used to devise all manner of ingenious tortures for his subjects; who sawed men in half with ropes, or roasted them alive, or nailed J their hats to their heads; who kept a j list of all the men he murdered, and thoughtfully prayed for the souls of each and all—a ruler, in fact, whose subjects were his constant care. Around this Museovish "tiger" Mr Wishaw has woven an adventurous story, based on an 'interesting incident in history. Ivan, it is said, once proposed marriage to Queen Elizabeth, but the English Sovereign preferred her and suggested instead one of the ladies of her Court, a kinswoman of her own. History relates that the Tsar's envoy rejected Lady Mary Hastings on the ground that she was not plump enough, iand the idea of an English alliance fell through. Sir Wishaw, however, in his tale makes the Lady Mary draw back in fear of the terrible reputation of the Tsar, whereupon a spirited young Devonshire beauty, also in the train of Queen Elizabeth, volunteers to go to Russia "to bo approved and to approve." It is with the fortunes of Amy Romalyn and her bashful lover, a Devonshire lad who follows her to Russia, that the story deals. It is a readable enough tale, but the stilted conversation of the characters grows very wearisome, and the Devonshire hero who is supposed to narrate the story parades-his humility perilouslynear the verge of boredom. One is not surprised that Amy found him a most irritating lover. A copy of the novel, additional reference to which appeared last- week, reaches us 'through Messrs Upton and Co. In "The Ring from Jaipur," Frances Peard tells the story of a thoughtless, childish young wife who learns in the darkness of affliction the value of a husband's love. It is a story of life in India, and a wonder-working native ring, an amulet which is supposed to have the power to "call back the heart that has strayed," figures prominently in the narrative. Some interesting little word-pictures of Indian scenes find place in the book. We have to acknowledge a copy of "The Ring from Jaiper" from Messrs Upton and Co. Under the title, '"'Two Queenslanders and Their Friends," the Da La More ! Press publishes a number of sketches by Mrs. Frances Campbell, most of which hare appeared in the "Westminster Gazette." Garnered, they form a charming idyll of the bush, and the two dominant characters, Joe and Mimi, are delightful [children. Their questions to their elders are, like their adventures, unique. In some things they remind us of those precocious yet altogether lovab'e youngsters Budge and Toddie, in "Helen's Babies." The writer possesses a style of her own, which promises even better thing 3. She is permeated by nature-love, love of animals, and of humanity. "Super Flumina," published by Mr. John Lane, is explained by its sub-title, "The Angling Observations of a Coarse Fisherman." The anonymous author is an ardent, if not very devout, admirer of the famous Isaac, but anything more different from the staid and sober "Compleat Angler" could not be imagined than mis gay modern's chatter concerning the history and practice of his art. Angling for fishes, he reminds us, is a very old art. "Our fathers have caught their fathers for hundreds of years." Homer knew sea-fishing with a long rod. The ancient Egyptians fished for finny monsters with eight-foot rods and double lines. P'.ato ■would allow the young Greek to angle "fh all places except harbours, sacred rivers, fens and marshes, if only he does not use the herbal defilement"—to poison the water. Anthony and Cleopatra, according to Plutarch, went ang'ing at Alexandria, and when the haughty Roman grew angry at his non-sucoeas, the merry Queen sent down her diver secretly to fix a bisp'-Balt fish on Anthony's hook! Through all the stirying epochs of history lovers of the rod have placidly pursued their quest, seemingly oblivious of the great doings of their time, There ie much research and much practical knowledge of the art of angling in this unconventional treatise, and the author's lively atyle makes his gossip very readable. Mr. W. L. Courtney, the well-known literary and dramatic critic, contributes to the "Daily Telegraph" a very laudatory review of "Sons o' Men," a novel by G. B. Lancaster, of which the scenes are laid in Southern New Zealand. "The authprrrror should it be the. aijthore???— is (says Mr. Courtney) evidently influenced by Rudyard Kipling, but the book is indubitably based on real, Uvely experience of the king of men who are carrying out tasks of civilisation under the hard conditions of a new world. It is extraordinarily vivid and actual, and has that particular charm, which appeals strongly to some minds, of presenting us" with new human types. • . . In G. B. Lancaster's pages we find chapters from the life history of strong, hard pieces of masculinity, very crude, very direct, and as far removed from .the men who belong to the Western Continent ac the country they inhabit js distant, let us say, froni London or New

York. 'Sons o' Men' is a poerwful book, full of actuality, and G. B. Lfchcaster, whoever he or she may be, may go far."

I Canon Thynne's recently published novel, "Sir Bevill" (Lanes Colonial library, is a scholarly and able production —-the work of a cultured writer wio has evidently made a close study of the period with which he deals; but there is a superabundance of detail which might well be spared, and the effort to combine history arid fiction is not altogether a s\iccess. Nevertheless there is much to interest the reader in the character of Sir Bevill, son of the famous Sir Richard Greavjile. of the "Revenge," and in that of his friend Sir John Eliot, a staunch upholder of the "liberties, franchises, privilege and jurisdiction of Parliament' , during tliat stormy period which culminated in the Civil War. Canon Thynae's book gives a, very sympathetic picture of a fine character.

That is a pleasant little anecdote of the Empress Frederick told in Mr Andrew White's reminiscences of his diplomatic life in the current "Centuiy."'' The American Ambassador had mentioned a certain pathetic picture of George 111. to the King's great-granddaughter, and in talking of the long ended bitter feeling between the United States and Great Britain he said: "It is a remembrance ot mine, now hard to realise, that I was brought up to abhor the memory of George III." At this the brilliant Empress smiled and answered —and all who have known her will in> agine the note of humour in her sweet voice—"That was very unjust, for I waa brought up to adore the memory of Washington."