LIBER'S NOTE BOOK.

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 282, 17 August 1918, Page 11

LIBER'S NOTE BOOK.

Latterday Marvels Foreseen. Thus a Xew l'lyniou.th correspondent, signing himself "ISCG":--Dear "Liber,"—l wonder how many pereons there are. in these busy times, who indulge in an hour or two with tho poets and of that number how mans* have had Hood's poems in their hands lately? Having occasion to refer to my voluine of this poet's works, I was somewhat aroused on finding the first of its contents was an "Ode to Jtr. Graham, the Aeronaut." To those who can appreciate the work of this author, the Bliid ode must rrfovo interesting reading, taking into consideration that Hood flourished in the beginning of the nineteenth century and the imnovtiiut part that the aeroplane is playing in this twentieth century war. Long, however, before Ton; Hood lived and wrote poetry, an English author had foreseen, and witli curious prescience had described, the marvellous possibilities of tho aeroplane. . Ami not only tho «eroplan«, but actually the submarine. This wns Dr. Richard Owen Cambridge, who livwl in Br. Johnson's time, ami whose' name crops up more- than once in UoswcH's immortal biography of the "Groat Lexicographer," as Becky Sharp's employer, poor Jl'is3 Pinkertoii, loved to stylo Bostzy's hero. Cambridge wroto n long poem, entitled "The Scribleriad," a copy oi' which—a rare book nowadays —recently fell into the hands of Mr. Clement'K. Shorter, of "Tho Sphere." hi a recent "Literary Letter." "0.K.5." gives soiUH interesting ijuotalians from Cambridge's poems, in one oi' which there is described I>t the eighteenth century writer a "combat in tlio air between a Briton and a German." Hero is the passage quoted by "C.K.S.":— My swelling heart unable to restrain, I rose, and thus addressed lhe list'ning train. Behold yon matchless beast ordaiu'd to grace, The rapid ficlor in Hi , aerial race. None from oureelf that prize should bear away; Dtit not for triumph is this mournful day. For other thoughts my sorrowing hours employ, And mid contrition holds the ulace of joy. Let brisker youths their active nerves prepare, Fit their lights silken wings, and skim the buxom iiir, Mov'd by my words, two youths of equal firo 6pring from tho crowd, and to the prize aspire. The one a German of distineuish'd fame: His rival from projecting Britain came. They sproad their wings, and with a rising bound, Swift at the word together emit the ground. Tho lirilon'ii rapid flight outstrips tho wind: The hi.b'ring German urges close behind. As some light bark, pnrsu'd by ships ot force, Stretches each sail to Bwell her swifter course, Tho nimble Briton from hie rival (lice. And soars on bolder pinions to Iho skies. Sudden tho string, which bound his plumage, broke; His naked arms in yielding air hoßhonk: His naked arms no more support hia weizht. But fail him "inking from.hi? airy height. Yet as he falls, no chanra or fatp dorreod, His rival near him urcr'rt his winged sneed, Not linoliscrv'd (despair eucgests a thought). Past by the font the. hei>dle«s youth ho caught, And drew in" innutting victor to tho ground:

While rocks and woods with loud applause resound. i Hut not only did the author of "The Scribleriad" describe an aerial combat, but Jio drew an imaginary picture of something mightily near nkiu-to the isuljluarine. In this iiistanco lie wjis, however, ti-s Mr. Shorter tolls us, adapting an iden gleaned .from Bishop Wilkins, Warden of Wadham College. Wilkins, it may be noted, was a. brother-in-law of Oliver Cromwell and a friend of Isaac Newton. _ In his "Mathematical MagicK," says "CMC," ho describes how a rami may go to any coast of the world invisible without being discovered or prevented in his journey, and he declare* that it may be n very great advantagi against n navy of enemies, who in this way may be undermined in the waters and blown up. It is thus that "The Scriblcriad" describes the event:— (For near a spacious river's bank wo stood) A Jiai'k emergent rose; with onrs welltim'd, Cut the smooth wave, and o"er tlio eurfueo 6kim'u\ Then sunk again, but still her courso pursu'd, Clear was the stream, and all bcncal'i wo view'd. Verily, there is nothing new under th* sun-that U, of course, in theory. If good. Bishop Wilkins or the amiable Cambridge could but view, from tho shades, an aeroplane fight of to-day, or tho.sinking of ~, U-boat by a British destroyer, linw astonished would they not bo at (he way in which, given duo time, fact so ofteir verifies fiction; Stray Loaves, Those who enjoy clover literary criticism and "booK gossip' , which is usefully .suggestive as well as merely entertaining, should keep n bliarp look-out lor a book, entitled ".Uouks in General," shortly to b« published by Marhn Seeker. The volume is lo consist of a selection of "Soiomoii L'nglo'.s" contributions to "Tho >,'ew Statesman." "Solomon Eagle," by tho way, is tho iiom-de-phimi! of one of tlio cleverest uf tho younger writers of the day, Mr.. J. C. Squire, to whose capital books of parodies, "Steps to Parnassus," "lmagin«ry .Speeches," and "Tricks of the trade," I have nmdo allusion more than oncu in these columns. Tlio trouble is that so few books, other than novels, published by Martin Seeker, Sidgwick and Jackson, Herbert Jenkins, and other of the younger school of publishers seem to reach the New Zealand book shops. Why this is so I cannot understand, for tlie.so firms have published many tionally good things in tho way of poetry and belles lottres generally.

_ J.lioso who read Hint ri'inarkhblo novel, Sinister Street," and remember that ratruoKliniir)- character, Sylvia Scarlett, who put in mi appearance towards the Olid ol tho second volume, will bo in-k-rested to learn thai Jit. Compton Mackenzie has written what is described as a. romance" in which Sylvia is the leaduig figure. The title is "Tim Early Lifo and Adventures of Svlvia Scarlett," Urn book being described* as " a long, picaresque novel of movement." What is inoro, it is to be followed in duo course by a sequel entitled "Sylvia, and iCchaol, the Michael being, I presume, identical with the youthful hero ot "Sinister Street." ' Mr. Compton Mackenzie is. a brilliant writer, but, honestly, 1 found the Sylvia of "Sinister Siroet" a very morbid and repellent creation, and tho prospect of a lengthy excursion into her earlier career does not sound specially alluring. However we must wait and so* how Mr. Mackenzie treats what would seem to be a somewhat risky' subject. Personally I would, not mis 3 a new bonk by Compi'ou Mackenzie, whatever its subject, on any account, so fresh and brilliant is his style. On a recent wet Sunday I re-read "Carnival," and found it as charming a story as ever, although I still dislike its melodramatic conclusion.

At the rate book prices are increasing, even novels—new. fiction, not reprints—will soon become a luxury. J'l'oiu Gs. (less 23 per cent, discount) to Gs. net was the first jump. That, of course, was for Home, readers, for tho price of the "colonial" long stood at 3s. Gd. Now the prico of tho colonial edition has gone up to i=. Gd., English readers paying Gs. net! But .(ho rise is not to stop here, for I notice that tho English prico of "Richard Dehan's" (Miss Clo Graves) forthcoming long novel, "That Which Hath Wings," is to bo 7s. not. It will bo interesting to see whether a colonial edition will be issued. "Tho Dop P/octor" was a capital novel, but. honestly I should think twice before paying seven shillings net (Bs. fid. out here) for a new story by Miss Graves. Still, even at these higher prices Uie latter-day novel reader Rets his fiction much cheaper than his prototype of midVictorian days, when novels were issued in three volumes at 31s. Cd. True, buyers were few and far between. In those days your novel-gobbler went to the circulating,' library for his fiction.

According to the "New Yorit Bookman," at a spiritualist demonstration held recently tlio spirit <S Mark Twain put in an appearance, and dictated a short story to a lady. After the dictation of tho story was completed, tho typist remarked, "Ft's pretty short for a 'book." There came thU reply:

Did you ever linow about my prize joke? One clay I went to church, heard a missionary sermon, ivaa carried away—to the extent of a hundred dollars. The preacher kept talkiiipr. I reduced my note to fifty dollars. He talked on. I came down to twenty-live, to ten, lo five, and after lie had said all that he had in him I stole a nickel from tho basket. Kcason for yourselves.