BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

Dominion, Volume 14, Issue 131, 26 February 1921, Page 11

BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

(Bv

Liber.)

Give a man a pipe he can smoke, Give a man a book he can read; And his home is bright with a calm delight Though the room be poor indeed. —James Thomson-

AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE

••Poems,” by Eileen Duggan. In a simply produced little booklet, “Poems,” by Eileen Duggan (Dunedin: "N.Z. Tablet” office), is modestly enshrined a slender sltaaf of some of the most musically graceful and delicately beautiful verse we have yet had from a New Zealand writer. The writer was at one time a. student at Victoria College, Wellington. She certainly possesses poetic gifts of no mean quality. Tier versM, here reprinted from the “N.Z. Tablet,” seem to the editor of that -journal to be "the products of a heart and mind inspired by, two forces—Catholicism and a love for Ireland?’ Be this as l it may, I can. cordially and unreservedly echo and confirm the "Tablet” editor’s eulogy of "the grace, finish of diction, and spirit of refinement” displayed in these poems. If, after perusing the two examples of Miss Duggan’s verse, for which I can find space this week, my readers do not agree with me that Miss Duggan’s poems are possessed of a quiet charm and grace not ordinarily discernible in New Zealand verse, then shall I be greatly mistaken. THE WIDE OF HEART. Oh. like a little white-washed room, _ Her soul through which the blue winds blow. Where scent of sage and flake of broom And hawthorn petals crime and go! go free, sd broad she keens her door. That all hurt things to her attuned. Will shvlv cross its rush-strewn floor. To feel her Angers at their wound. And sometimes on her whitest days A bird will love the ouiet' walls. Cleaving the stillness of her wavs With little cries and calls. And when she hears tho swift, keen note She sighs and flings her hands apart: fihe knows that from the sweet wide throat . , 'Tis God Himself sings in her heart. FAITH. They brought me books, deep arguments, grave words. . . .... . And said that I must set mv faith to school. . , , , ■ But what avail debate, design or rale Or alt the wisdom of the sage to one Who loves to sit and dream God in the Who S hears His voice at dawn among the And knows His joy is with the vellow bees Adrowse with honey in laburnum tiees! I want the faith of . some old Breton crone. Who mumbling sits in coif and snowy And beads slip through her calKnowing God’s fingers catch them as they Or Irish dame who hears bv b ?£“ ei L 6weet stumbling footsteps on the nightamairtender't'ropings at her door’s latenAnd C rans to greet her new-bora. wander- . Jnz Lord. It will be interesting to watch the development and further outcome of what seems to me, at least, to be a poetic gift? of rich and rare promise. Roderic Quinn’s Poems. Roderic Quinn) may not be the briglit«et star in the Australian poetic firmament, but. ho has-, written in his finis uot a few gracefully beautiful lyrics, , and it is good! to welcome, a volume of "Poems,” by Roderic Quinn (Angus and Robertson, per Whitcombe and Tombs). • , which! includes many old favourites in j addition to examples of his later work. > The joyous "exultation over the simple beauties of Nature in "The Spring Song” is pleasantly communicated to the reader in such stanzas ns tho following : Sing out and bo happy* . The Suring is at hand. The crass green and raonv. The trees o’ the land. Bins oiit! for the Decs m Their aueet of wild iigtiay Are haunting the trees in Green places and suniiv. Distant blue reaches And green hills invito Green hills and long beaches And roads red add white. Locked waters are calling With many gold voicesWhere tides gently Make soft liquid noises. The closing stanzas are in n vein of Ulmost riotous Joie de vlvre: Out. out on old Who skulks in her sable! ' Laugh gaily, and borrow Gay laughs while you re noie. If anv care rankles— ankles On beaches of gold. z And surf that. runs after To kiss Clinging dresses. And white teeth and laughter. And wild clinging tresses. The .poet's lovo of tho sea finds outcome in some pretty verses The Surrender,” wherein the joys of surfing are eloquently chanted. Some sample verses may be quoted:— NaUght in his ears but the breakers through the surf lie flies. Foam aFoilt him. and clean san<l ß un<l e r. Over him arching the radiant t sasxs-is Limbs- rtutil.ret’fced. through the enirl Here. ll in r thc B 'zold day’s new born splenSea d °rindS sighing in trees and cave, n ” it is in a glad surrender 6 Thus to vield to the will of .the wave. There is a quite SWiiiburnian savour, so it seems to me, in the second of tho above ve“ es. In others of the poems the note is as pre-eminently Australian as that to be found in Banjo Tatereon’s, Will 11. Ogilvie’s, or Henry Lawsou’s popular verse. Thus, in Drovers Twain” there is all that, vigorous lilt and captivating entrain which is so characteristic. of the so-called "bush poe.ry made famous by the “Bulletin bardsThere is no joy in all the world Of such a bloom and. blush As that the charging ruler feels . When at some frenzied ierubbers her e. Hi, Ftockwhin mrldnp curves and wheels, He thunders ’through the bush. Knees gripping hard, he dashes on. iv. awiH wind in his nair: Whate’er befall, whatoer betide. All thought of peril thrust, aside. He feels the glory and the pride Of those who finely dan.. f would " fain quote from some of Quinn’s later and patriotic verse but space, limitations impose a firm taboo. Ths volume is full of good things for lovers of graceful verse. “Cowslips and Kingcups.” A prettily-produced book of verse, which comes far too late tor the Christmas gift season, but which, at any tune' would lie welcomed ill many a household where there are young people—and adults —who can appreciate some very charminff verso, is "Cowslips and Kingcups, bv Charlotte Druitt Cole (Methuen and Co.). Miss (or Mrs.) Cole’s pleasant little songs of fairies, of the various small delights and troubles of childhood her dainty little lyrics on flowers and Nature’s beauties and wonders generally, remind me in places of Stevenson s "Child’s Carden of Verses.” For, instance. the pretty lines entitled "The Row of Houses” are quite in a Stevenson ian strain-.— A row of little houses Goes climbing un the hid: I look afresh each morning And they are climbing still. Their doors are mouths which open. Their windows are like eyes. Anri from their chimney nostrils I watch the smoke-breath rise. Orm little house is sleeping (llavbe it's dead, poor thing!) But let us go and live there z A.id make it laugh aud sing.

And when a blazing Yule-log Makes all our faces glow—Why, hearths are hearts of houses, As every one must know. There is some whimsical and' delightful humour in "The Cloflies-line”: Jtand-in-hand they daiice in a row, Hither and thither, and to and fro. Fliv! flan! fton' ynd away, thev «o~1 FhitiTinc creatures as white os snow. Like iestive horres they caper and Like fairy-tale witches they d f ncc ’ Kounded in front, but hollow behind, They Shiver and skip in the merry March wind. . ~ One I saw dancing •exoitealyr Struggling so wildly till she was , Then, leaving pegs and clothes-line oenina She h flew like a bird and no one can find I Bawdier gleam, like a sail, in 3U f n ’ Flipping, and flapping, and flopping lor fun. , „ Nobody knows where she now can no Hid in a ditch or drowned in the sea. She was my handkerchief not long ago, But, she’ll never come to rtiv pocket 1 M.r Horace J. Knowles embellishes the book with a frontispiece, in colour, and a number of dainty little drawings in black and white, which are in agreeable keeping with the delicately playful spirit of so much of Mrs. Colo’s verso. BOOKS GV THE DAY "Bergson and His Philosophy.” ' Much' has been heard during the last few years of Henri Bergson and his influence upon latter-day thought, but to many people Bergson remains only a name. A useful and interesting book, "Bergson and His Philosophy, by J. A. Gunn, M.A. (Methuen and Co.), now provides an exposition and a guide to Bergson’s thought and philosophic theory. Mr. Gunn’s work, which, in addition to expounding the Bergson philosophy, gives an interesting account of his- life and an extensive bibliography, is specially useful in that the author endeavours to estimate the influence of Bergson’s thought on politics (especially Syndicalism), on ethics, on theology, and upon the general development of philosophy. Born in Paris in 1859, Henri Louis Bergson is descended from a prominent Jewish family of Poland, and has, too, a blend of Irish blood on his mother’s side. His family lived in London for a few years after his birth, and he obtained an early familiarity with the English language from his' mother. Before ho was nine years old his family settled in France, the future philosopher becoming a natnr- ! alised citizen of the Republic. An interesting account is here given of Bergson’s school and university career, and of the growth of his reputation as a philosopher. In 1908 he visited London, and met the eminent Harvard philosopher. William James, who, at the tim<«, expressed his conviction that Bergson s work would prove to be "a turning point in the history of philosophy.” Early in 1918 Bergson was officially received by the Acndemie Francaise. taking his seat among the "Select Forty” as successor (o M. Emile Ollivier then a famous French statesman of the Second Empire period. Mr. Gunn’s work is prefaced by a thoughtfiilly-written and informnHve preface bv Mr. Alexander Mair, Professor of Philosophy in the University of Liverpool, who points out that in one important respect Bergson has an advantage ov?r Kant, and indeed, ovei most philosophers, namely, "in his recognised ma'terly control over the instrument of language;” Says Professor Mair: — There is a minimum of jargon, nothing turgid or crabbed. He reminds us- most in the skill and charm of his expression, of Plato and Berkeley among the philosophers. Ho does not work with so fine and biting a point as his, distinguished countryman and fellow-philosopher, Anatole France, but ... he is a master pt the succinet and memorable phrase in which rtn idea is etched out for us in a few strokes. Already, in his lifetime, a number of terms stamped with tho impress of Bergson’s thought have passed into international currency. “The Secret of Every Day Things.” The late Jean Henri Fabre, the famous French naturalist, whose entomological studies are so well known to English readers, found time to interest himself in many byways of science. He had a special knack of being able to interest youthful readers, and his "Story Book of Science,” to- mention only one of the books he wrote in the intervals of his studies of bees, beetles, glowworms, and insect life generally, has long enjoyed a. widespread popularity in his native land Au English translation of a somewhat similar work has now appeared under the title "The Secret of Every Day Thim’s” (New York: The Century Com-n-inv'- per Whitcombe and Tombs). In his new book Fabre fells the -children the story of how many such simple things- us needles, pins, and thread, matches, bread, and glass are made; tells, also, about flax and hemp and coal, explains the mysteries ot rain arid snow, of fire and frost. His descriptions of the natural origin or manufacture of many of the Articles m Use in evervday life in the household are admirably simple, and clear, then scientific accuracy may, ot conise, lie taken for granted. Miss Bicknell s translations of the original essays read smoothly, a'nd the book contains a number of interesting diagrams and ill isti a tions The Iwok is simple enough for ordinarily well educated chi d to understand, and yet, in many of the chapters, significant enough to interest an adult reader. LIBER’S NOTE BOOK “Leacocktales.” “Leacocktales” is the I>unning title given to Stophen Leacocks latest book, "Winsome Winnie and other new .Nonsense Novels.” by an American revmwer. One of the stories, “Broken Barrieis, doscrib-d as “a he-and-she-on-a-desei-ted-dan ” varn, H a clever skit mi Lane qtacnoole’s “Blue Lagoon.” Another "John and I, or How I Near y Lost my Husband,” ib a satire on the sort of fiction favoured by the readers or so manv popular American magazines Ihe American reviewer ends his article by savin-: “Many are the. serious sentences, which Leacock leads astray. He makes US feel that only by superhuman restraint can n novel keep sober. But why stickle for sobriety at all, when stimulating Leacocktales are to bo had, nn ,riy smuggled over the Canadian border?”

Literature at the Tea Table. According to a writer in the “Westminster Gazette,” "everybody wants to be able to say something intelligent at tea time about Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Cowper, Meredith, Coleridge Keats, Anatole France, and so on, but scarcely one person in fifty can ’seiHo down’ to study these writers at first hand -’ Unless English tea-table conversation is very different from that which Koes on at similar functions in New Zealand, T would risk the guess that it centres far more round the price of butter, the scarcity of white sugar, and the wage demands of the modern domestic help than it does round the masters of literature. The Indy who would discourse on Shakespeare and Keats at the average tea table, would, J am afraid, 1* voted a prig and a bore. Aa for Cowper, does the "superior person” of the "Westminster” honestly ce-

lieve that anyone ever reads the "Task nowadays? John Gilpin’s famous ride may find a place in school readers, but the average "tea table” knows not Cowper even by name. Stray Leaves. Says the editor of “The London Mercury”: “Like most papers, we receive through an agent Press cuttings from our contemporaries in which references to ourselves occur. This month wo were astounded when we opened a packet and found several pages from ‘The Month, headed ’The Titus Oates Newspaper Press.’ We felt we had not quite earned that. On examination wc found that the London ’Mercury’ referred to was a namesake of Charles Il's' time!" Clement K. Shorter in “The Sphere” on John-Galsworthy's-novels: “Never has any writer touched the propertied, uppermiddle class that lives in the best houses, that gives the best dinners, with’a surer touch°than has Mr, Galsworthy. Thackeray’s brilliant work in the same drrection is mere fantasy in comparison. It turns out that Jeffrey Faiinoll outlined and wrote the opening chapters of his last pud excellent story, Black Bartlemey’s Treasure," a good ten years ago, and then laid it aside for his other books. . . , , „i A commemorative plaque is to be placed on the• house at Hyercs, on. the French Riviera, where Stevenson lived in the early ’eighties. It was at this house, Ix> Chalet de la Solitude,” that R.L.S. wrote most of his "Treasure Island.’ Cr K. Chesterton is following tho example set by Sir William Watson,, Alfred Noyes, Hugh Walpole, H. Q. Wells, and other English authors, and has booked a lecturing tour m the United States. A jocular miggesrion has been made that the platforms at the various halls at which G.K.C. ulll lecture are being strengthened. Mr. Chesterton is at once tho bulkiest as well as one of the wittiest of presentday English literary men. SOME RECENT FICTION The Novels of Archibald Marshall. On more than one occasion it has been "Liber’s” pleasant duty to commend to those who enjoy good fiction the novels of Mr. 'Archibald Marshall, several ot whose best stories we now- being published in cheaper form than that ot the original editions. The volumes are of the usual novel size, the paper is as good as' one has become accustomed to expect nowadays, and the print is fairly large and agreeably clear. The earlier stoue , dealing with the fortunes of the Clinton family, are' now succeeded by otheis which are self-contained and separate pictures of that upper middle class conn try society' of which Mr. Marshall has proved himself so clever a painter. The three latest volumes of the »enes are’ "Exton Manor,” “Richard Haddock, and "Watermeads” (Hodder and Stoughton, per Whitcombe and . ton Manor" is perhaps the best of all Afr. Marshall’s stories; indeed, it comes vetv near to being equal to irollope at his' best. The characters are those which Trollope was so’ fond ot drawing : country squires, vicars and their wires, stewards of great estates, country doctors and lawyers, with more than a dash of the rural sporting element. Ln "Exton Manor” we are shown how a haughty old aristocrat tries to tyrannise over her tenants, how she bullies, or. tries to bully the vicar, and generally sets the whole country-side by the ears. "Richard Baldock” is tho story of a fine young fellow whose father, a pitifully narrow-minded clergyman, has no sympathy with the finer tastes, broader views, and worlujy ambitions of the son’. Here again we are given a series of carefully-wrought pictures of county society as it existed in pre-war times, and there is' some quite excellent character-drawing. Wattrnicads” makes perhaps tho pleasantest reading of the three stories. It is the story of tho struggles of an impoverished squire to preserve the beautiful homo of his ancestors, which, thanks to the generosity of a ongestianged relative, he is at last, able to d °in each of the three stories there are some very ple.isarit young people, whose love affairs Mr. Marshall recounts with all the Trollopian good taste. Mr. Marshall can be sentimental, but at least his sentiment rings true. There is nonet of that saccharine artificiality

which the American novelist is so apt ti affect. His said that tho war has so o-rcatly altered tile wrtur.es and life genlrally of the English country gentry ?hat Mr. Marshall’s stones are now X Hite some Ruled daguerrotype than a present-dgy photograph- -■ 1 rich” have it A said, taken over .many cf those delightl'iTi.. homes sueh as tbo.->e of the Clintons, Cnt>.-«'ay.s, and ° 1 l ' ls tho old county families A Il ° o' - • Marshall’s stories. Ti.'ty howd not be so-it is sincerely e 1 ° J (hat things are not quite so are said to bo—but it fact that these novels ol Mr. Mad- <■ - make most dclightiul reading.true they are com plot el y lacking ik sensational, and-' that certain lattei-dita psychological studies which have so , strongly .influenced many of the younger , English novelists are. not reliectwl in these stories. But those who, like nijsclf, are not ashamed to avow a pieieience for fiction which is at once ■reAfiil, wholesome, and interesting over tic crude sensation and morbid psjchology so frequently to be found reflected m recent fiction, are assured of much excellent if quiet entertainment in - Ir. Marshall's books. ■ (N.Z. price 4s. bd-)-