LIBER'S NOTE BOOK.

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1699, 15 March 1913, Page 12

LIBER'S NOTE BOOK.

William Morris and His Books. The splendidly-produced ' collected" edition of YVilliam Morris's works is, I see, fast' approaching completion, the sixteenth, volume of the set of twenty-four— at half-a;guineas a volume—having just been issued by the publishers, Longmans. Book lovers whose pockets are well-lined will probably not begrudge the outlay ■of twelve guineas on a "complete Morris," but I confess that I do not greatly envy its possessors. A nico little edition of "The Earthly Paradise'"( can be obtained in two, volumes at fifteenpence each, (ltoutledge's "Muses' Library"), and with this, plus Morris's delightfully-written but quite impossible' Socialist story,' "News from Nowhere," of which a shilling edition has'recently been published, I can rest quite content. I would, how. ever, recommend the-addition of the clev-erly-written, study;of, Morris—M°rris the author,' not Morris, the.furniture designerand art craftsman—which Mr. Alfred Noycs, -himself a poet, has contributed to the "English lien of Letters" Series. With me, .a little of. Morris's poetry,-, goes: a long way, arid his mediaeval such' as, "The Wood Beyond' the' World,". I find most wearisome. The plain truth is that the Socialist poet wrote too much. As to his art craftsmanship, that is another matter altogether. Thousands of people to whom a perusal of "The Earthy Paradise" would be a veritable purgatory, can. and do unfeignedly rejoice in Morris wall , the highly-patterned.paper, however. artistic, has now pven place to plain tints—and Morrjs furniture, which, as Morris designed it originally, is by-no means so -uncomfortable as • some of the imitations thereof with which tho shops are nowadays crammed. The Origin of the Kelmscott Books. By book-lovers, not- always actually synonymous' with book-readers, Morris's name will always be most intimately connected with ■ the famous. Kelmscott type, and tho books printed in that type at the Kelmscott "Press," which once had its .headquarters: in. a .quaint eld Georgian house in Chelsea. Personally, my-first requirement of any book that is worth reading is that, it shall be printed in large, bold, essentially black print, which, strikes, but does not 'ask too much service from the eye. Now the Kelmscott- tj T pe may or may not 1 bo "artistic"—a term much abused nowadays—but I defy anyone to say it makes for easy reading. And yet Morris firmly believed it did, and Miss Morris, who writes tho "biographical introductions" to each volume of the new edition, still hugs the family delusion to her soul. In one of these introductions Miss - Morris tells of the founding of the Kelmscott Press. Mr. Emery -.Walker, a friend and collaborator of the. poet in some of the latter's many artistic ventures, had given a lecture on printing at the New Gallery and showed, by means of a lantern, examples of the work of the Old printers. Morris, says his daughter, was most enthusiastic over the. sight of tho "finely | proportioned letters" and he at once conceived the idea of making a modern experiment on the same lines., "Let's make a new fount of type," ho said to Walker on his way home, and soon afterwards, the Kelmscott Press came ■ into being. - N The Kelmscott Chaucer. ' T. can well remember: the time, when tliere was quite a boom in the Kelmscott books, with their quaint old monkish binding of full vellum; with- leathern or brocade ties. Enormous prices were given for some of tho volumes, the Chaucer, a truly noble ,piece of typographic craftsmanship. albeit the decorations smacked of that "cloistered choiceness"' which one critic lias mentioned as the "most serious limitation" of tho Ivelsniscott productions, bringing as much as .£l3O. This, however; was the result of some 'wealthy biblophile's temporary madness. Prices have steadily declined of late years, indeed I bslicve the Chancer volume has been sold as low as .£.15, and many of the minor productions at from, thirty shillings fo tliveo ."pounds. They are beautiful books to look pt, but for all really practical after ali a book is made to be read, not merely to be gloated over, the three'-and-sixrienny Chaucer of Mac-' inillan's Globe I.ibrarv, edited by Mr. Pollard,.-or the Oxford edition, at the same price, edited by Professor Skeat.'is all that the ordinary bookman needs. To those wliq -do: not care, to ..puzzle pyer the mediaeval' English I jcommond the .modernised versions published, in the charming littlo volumes of "The King's Classics" at cighteen-pence each. Pauline Johnson, "the Indian Poet." A few; days ago' a cablegram announced the death of Pauline Johnson,, "the-In-dian poet." Miss Johnson's poetry is widely pppular in Canada and the fiithor had a host of friends in ; the United States, where, a few years' ago, she made a long lecturing tour under'the.auspices, of the famous Cliatauqua .Institute. Sho also-visited England, where John Lane, the'"poet's own publisher," as the director of the Bodley Head business 'has been called, published her first volume of collected verso "White Wampum." Two other volumes of Miss Johnson's aro ontitled respectivoly, "Canadian Born," and "Flint and Feather," the lastmentioned having been published quite recently by a Toronto firm. ' Miss Johnson was rightly entitled "the Indian poet," for she was a Mohawk on the father's side, being tho daughter of the late Onwanonsyhon, head chief of tho Six Indian Nations, who claimed direct descent from ouo-of the fifty families which composed Hiawatha's Federation. Her mother was English, but the girl was none tho less brought up oil the Indian Reserve, and for three yeiirs attended at on Indian school. She is said to have begun to write-verso at the age of twelve, and before she was twenty toured Canada, reciting her own poetry. She seems to havo been in many ways a woman of quite remarkablo talents, and

although her verso may not be, indeed it is very far from being, on tho 6ame literary plane as that of Lampman and Bliss Carinas, two poets of whom Canada is justly proud, it.is for ■ the most part much more redolent" of the spirit of the country. The Call of the Wild. Her mixed blood is reflected in her love of nature, Take, for instance, this little pen picture of a forest scene: In forest arms and night will soonest creep, Where sombre pines a lullaby intone, Where nature's children curl themselves to sleep, And all is still at last, 6ave where alone A band of black, belated crows arrive from lands unknown. Strange sojourn has been theirs since waking day, Strange sights and cities in their wanderings blend With fields of yellow maize, and, leagues away, With rivers where their sweeping waters wend Past velvet banks to roeky 6hores, in 'canons bold to end.- ' Who, too, that knows Canada and that curious sense of adventure with whioh even the mokt blase traveller on the famous "C.P.E.," regards his journey towards tho Pacific as the train bowls out of Winnipeg,- .will not appreciate tho verses entitled, "Tho No.-l West-bound Express"? I swing to the sunset lands, The world of prairie ,the world of plain, The world of promise and hope of gain, The world of gold, and the world of grain, And tho world of the willing hand., I swing to the "Land to Be," I am the power that laid its floors, I am the guide of its western stores, I am the key to its golden doors, That open alone to me. ——— \ . A Paddle Song. In another set of verses, "The Song My Paddle Sings," there is a curious trace, of that specially lyrical touch which characterises the quaint old canoe 6ongs of the Canadian-French voyageurs, which Dr. Drummond has so carefully collected. We'vo raced the rapids,, we're far ahead, Tho river slips through its silent bed. Sway, sway, As the bubbles 6pray And fall, in tinkling tunes away. And'up on the hills, against the sky, tree rocking its lullaby, Swings, 'swings, ...'-. ! Swelling the song that my paddle pings. Here,;as one critio has said, "is an addition to the poetry that springs from life, , and not from the dying culture that deals' in'worthless imitations." , ■ Her Patriotic Spirit. ' * ' ' 1 • Many of Tekahiowahie's (Miss . Johnson's Indian name N , poems- describe ■ the rough camp -life 'of-> the- North-West, " arid' possess.' a dramatic i quality ,which renders them', specially suitable for. recitation pur-; poses.' Intensely patriotic—oile'of ,"her''best known poems- is a . vigorous eulogism, of the North-West ■ Territorials—she .has a' warm place! in her: heart ' for' the' land whioh gave her mother birth, for in .'My English Letter"-'she writes:—i • - Nought would I • care to live im' quaintOld Britain, .., ... These wilder shores are dearer for- to me, '.. ' ' Tet when I/read the words that hand has . written, ' / The parent sod more precious seems to be. But the "Call of the Wild" provides the dominant note of her verse, and her best poems are those which deal with life on the frontier line of civilisation. Stray Leaves. • Reviews of two books of essays; "Another ' Device," by - Stephen • Paget," author of'that;clever. book,'"Confessio Medici",; and Mr. . Filsdn Young's '-'Letters from Solitude.", are, held over until .next week. - The "Book of the Day" artiole next week will have for subject -Alan Ostler's "With the Arabs in Tripoli." *, # » Frank Danby (Mrs. Julia Franfeau) has a new story nearing completion. Tho title is "Concert Pitch." Some people find the literary pitch of 'Mrs.. Frankau's works just a trifle strident. \ *, * # One of the best of Mr. Locke's earlier books, "Derelicts," is now, I see, obtainable in a shilling edition. Those who only know this author by his "Beloved Vagabond" and "Septimus," should mak acquaintance with his earlier style. » * * ' ■ Amongst the many . valuable books in Sir John Findlay's library, shortly to be dispersed by auction sale, are a set of the American facsimile, in . seventeen volumes, of the famous Benares edition of Burton's version •of "The Arabian ■ Nights." This is a full' and completely unexpurgated Burton, not to be confused with the Sinithers edition (the "Smothered" as it is called by the book trade) in twelve volumes. '.**» • Another valuable 6et is in tH'e same collection is "The Pentland" edition, in twenty volumes, of Robert Louis Stevenson's works, originally published at half a guinea a volume. Its priCo at Home, when copes occur for sale, varies between 418 and -C2O. » ;* * Sir John's library also includes some pretty specimens of tho Roycrof t editions. Personally, I loathe what is- called the suede or soft yap bindings of Mr. Hubbard's nicely-printed books, -but tastes differ, and to many good people this particular is their ideal binding. .« # . # A new Arctic book, which' is highly spoken of by English papers, is. Captain Ejnar Mikkelsen's "Lost in the Arctic." But we Now Zealanders aro moro interested in- Antarctica, and at 18s.—all these Arctic and Antarctic books aro rather expensive—buyers here will be few. * * » Dolf Wyllarde, whose fine West Indiaji story, "Mnfoota," had so many admirers, is the latest novelist to denounce "stago morals" or tho lack of them. Her story, "The Career of Beauty Darling," deals specially with the life of a musical comedy ! star. i # * t Weedon Grossmith's reminiscences, "From Studio to Stage," ought to bo ail entertaining book, for he comes of a specially clever family, and as collaboratour with the famous Cieorge in that inimitably humorous book, "The Diary of a Nobody," proved that he could write as well as. ho could mime. But itliis is a book to wait for in a cheap edition. Gerliart Hauptmann's latest novel, "Atlantis," has been issued in an Rnglisli translation by an American publisher. The author has utilised tho .Titanic disaster, ■ and there is some rather heavy * satire upon the worship of tho dollar, of which, remarks the "N.\, Nation," "wo hive heard before." I may be singular in my view of such German modern fiction translated into English,' but it always seems to me to be most lamentably tepid in interest. i* ' * » ■ I am afraid few people nowadays read Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poetry, but the now- and lihndv-«ized shilling edition in Fronde's "World's Classics" should tempt not a .few oldsters to renew acquaintance with i'lio pathetic "Cry of tho Children," and,-to me at least, tho over delightful "England in Spring."