THE BOOKFELLOW.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 88, 15 April 1911, Page 13

THE BOOKFELLOW.

I Written for The Post, by A. G. Stepnene. (Copyright.— All Eights Reserved.) SOUTH AFRICAN VERSE. An attractive little volume of poetry from South Africa is published by J. M. Dent under the title of " Veldsingers' Verse" (2s 6d net). Olive Schreiner explains that the Veldsingers' Club Is a little comradeship joined in love of : literature, and ten writers contribute to the collection of short lyrical pieces. These are usually good in form, .hough the content is not highly distinguished. Yet, besides the English note, there are a flavour and a savour of South Africa that set the Veldsingers apart. A leading contributor, Alice M. Alder, has memories of Australia, and tells of a home Set in some far Australian hills — A happy haunt of daffodils. Before tbe Spring had ventured forth From her high chambers in the North, Before the_ cherries' blossoming, The daffodils their gold would fling Across the long wet orchard grass — The orchard, where the cattle pass To wander in the creek below, Where ferns and long, grey mosses grow. Around, the grey old giant gums Stand warden, and the wild bee hums His merry chant across the rye; And, sharp against the August sky, The red criss-cross of budding boughs Shows like a net, and patient cows Between the boles will gravely peep — Ah, what a place of peaceful sleep ! One comes there early in the mornjj Upon her face the light 'is borne Of those who spend sweet quiet days, And love fair thoughts and simple ways ; And though her eyes are young, yet care Has laid the silver on her hair. All flowers dwell in that heart of hers,. But, question her, she yet prefers Before them all, the daffodils. O garden in the southern hills, Her children loved you well of old, Now, though they wander, place of gold, Keep watch upbn her for us all, In this her Jife's long sunset fall. Time, be her gentle worshipper, And bring her children back to her. NEWS NOTES. The new edition of the "Fetit Larousse Ulustre" is made to August of lastyear, and this dictionary-encyclopasdia deserves to be imported more freely to Australasia. The cloth edition at sfr. could we presume, be landed here for less than 4s, and at 5s on a counter the book looks good value. It is, indeed, a unique compilation at the price," adding a dictionary of history and geography to a French dictionary; and including in 1660 pages more than 6000 illustrations, portraits, and maps. Every reader of French will find it a highly desirable possession. The publisher is the Larousse Company at IS Eve Montparnasse, Paris. The Australasian, information is usually good and recent, though a mistake is made in putting the Commonwealth -capital at "Bombela" in map and text. That very mistake, however, is evidence of the editor's zeal to justify the truism' that "Larousse" leads in the world's competition of popular encyclopaedic dictionaries. A new volume in the Rationalist Press Association's series of sixpenny reprints is "Aphorisms and Reflections," selected from Huxley's works by His wife. Huxley thought very directly and expressed himself very clearly, and there : is still a great deal of him worth meditation if you have not assimilated it already. Many of these detached passages read to us 'like truisms, but Huxle^s statement usually adds weight and mother- wit. It is true that his dogmatic habit assumes a great deal. This, which the editor puts in the forefront, may well represent a message that has played its part in moulding the mindfi of this generation: "There is no alleviation for the sufferings of mankind except veracity of thought and action, and the -esolute facing of the world as it is when the garment of make-believe by which pious hands have Hidden, its uglier features is stripped- off." Here is a famous passage that has not yet been superseded: — "That man, I think, has had a liberal education who has been so trained in, youth that hi 3 body is the ready servant of his will, and does with ease and pleasure all the work that, as a mechanism, it is capable of, whose intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength and in smooth working order ; ready like a steam engine to be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the anchors of the mind ; whose mind is stored with, a knowledge of the great and fundamental truths of Nature and j the laws of her operations ; one who, no ' stunted ascetic, is ful] of life and fire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel by a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience ; who has learned to love all beauty, whether of Nature or of art, to hate all vileness, and to respect others as himself." These, and three hundred more, for a serious person's sixpence. VICTOR DALEY'S DEBTS. A Wellington correspondent writes: — "Your commendation of Victor Daley's verses ' Romance ' jars upon me — not artistically, but ethically. The piece seems to me dishonest. If you were born a rebel (as I am) you would know Ferdinand Freiligrath's ' Revolution ' (written in 1830) as we rebels know it. Just compare the two and say if one has not moulded the other — even to plagiarism. Here are your stanzas from ' Romance ' : — They say that fair Romance is dead, and in her cold grave lying low, The green grass waving o'er her head, the mould upon her breasts of show; Her voice, they say, is dumb for aye, that once was clarion-clear and high But in their hearts, their frozen hearts, they know that bitterly they lie. . She still is here, tbe fair and dea?, and walks the earth with noiseless feet; Her eyes are deep, and dark, and clear, her scarlet mouth is honey-sweet; A chaplet fair of roses rare and lordly laurel crowns her head; Her patb is over land and sea. She is not dead ; she is not dead. . . And here are some stanzas from a version of Freiligrath : And though ye caught your noble prey within your hangman's sordid thrall, And though your captive was led forth beneath your city's rampart wall; And though the grass lies o'er her greea, where at the morning's early red The peasant girl brings funeral-wreaths— I toll you still— She is not dead! And though from off the lotty brow yo cut the ringlets flowing long, And though ye mated her amid the thieves' and murderers' hideous throng And though ye gave her felon fare— bade felon garb her livery be, And though ye set the oakum task"— l tell you all— She still is free! And so on for eight more verses. Daley must have known it." This judgment is perhaps a little harsh. It seems clear that Daley's piece is as to the matter an adaptation, and as to the manner an echo, o"f Freiligrath's. But in applying the scheme to his own theme Daley has invented -new ideas and has developed them in new phrases!' It was known, of course, thati Daley's verse, is much indebted : but in a fair s.untnary. as already said, if not creatively original he

is original, and between the time-worn banks his fresh current flows. The standard by which "Romance" is referred to a dishonest plagiarism is more scrupulous than that which is applied usually nowadays. In those terme, the condemnation is too severe. Besides, a rhythm so fortunate will seduce us all. For example, the report of the death of " Pelorus Jack " is now said to be greatly 'exaggerated. Well, '"Pylorus Jack": — They say Pelorus Jack is dead, and rote above high-water mark, ' Tbe seaweed tangled round his head, his body bitten by a shark ; As tourist-bait, they say our mate will catch no more — he smells too high ; But in their hearts, their craven hearts, they know that bitterly they lie. Hie belly white, that shed bo bright a halo of the true romance, Ts now, they say, all shorn of light, and round the boats has ceased to prance ; His tail divine no more shall shine to lead the passengers around, With goggle eyes and wild surmise, from ' Nelson to Queen Charlotte Sound. When first the brave New Zealand child emits his queer infantine quack, His mother is his guardian mild — she soothes him with Pelorus Jack; And when he grows to manhood's woes, and comes a girl to look upon, He tries to make his marble good — he tells her of Pelorus John. He still is here, New Zealand's dear, and swims the sea in gallant guise; A patriot true, like me and you, his - mission is to advertise; Around the world his fame is hurled, wherever fish yarns can be spread, To prove New Zealand still supreme. He ia not dead ; he is not dead. RECENT FICTION. "Gilead BaJm, Knight Errant," lay Bernard Gapes (Unwin ; 2s 6d)j adapts th« method of Stevenson's "New Arabian Nights" to a fresh Bet of adventures in London. The action and commentary are ingenious enough to make the book readable. Gapes should cut his verbiage and quicken the pact*- of his story. Hugh Walpole's "Mr. Perrin and Mr. Traill" is a book for British schoolmasters — a penetrating analysis and an. unrivalled statement of the psychology of junior masters' life in a second-rate public school. "Here is the whole protest and ap. peal of all those crowded, stifled souls, buried of their own original free will beneath fantastic piles of scribbled paper, cursing their fate, but unable to escape from it, seeing their old age as a broken, hurried, scrambling to a no-man's grave, with no dignity or suavity, with no temper nor discipline with nerves jangling like the broken wires of a shattered harp — so that there is no comfort or hope in the future, nothing but disappointment and insult in the past, and the dry, bittei* knowledge of failure in the present." The book has the truth of an unpleasant tract; and though a concession to the "happy ending" spoiis its artistic climax, the author deserves ' intelligent readers. He has made a little sermon on life into a little bit of literature thao no one has ever made before. Two new Macmillan novels are "Tre»or Lordship," by Mrs. Herbert Barclay (2s 6d), a well-told tale of commonsense and common sentiment that will suit the old-fashioned women who re* main the best woman; and "Jim Hands," by E. W. Child (2s 6d), a story of family life that is not without a characteristic American merit, yet Is difficult to be relished fully; in our different environment. "The Man and the Dragon," by Alexander Otis (Little, Brown, and Co., 3s 6d), is the familiar American man-and-woman compound that is well aimed to hit both sexes at the circulating library; with enough business and battle to interest thej-men, and enough shirtwaist and sentiment to enrapture the women. "The ' Man" in this case is the popular "muck-raker" of this American day— and on the point of language we note that "muck-raker" is losing, or has lost, its literal significance, and now suggests nothing more than an ardent reformer to the American mind. Otis's ardent reformer is a valiant, moderately young newspaper editor, who gives as another sign of the American times by compromising with the private enterprise that runs the Carthage trams, on the grou-id that Carthage municipal government is so inefficient that the citizens can make more money and get a better service . from the company. Naturally the editor meets unscrupulous opposition; yet this very opposition enables him to prove his mettle in Her eyes— so brilliant, so sympathetic, &o tender, ah ! While the conflict with the Dragon is proceeding, the Man frightens it with language like this : "I am going to have something to say to the citizens of "Carthage in the Seventeenth Ward this evening, right out in the open; and they shall hear it; they shall hear it, unless the Carthage Electric Company buys up the sky over my head, sells out the ground from under my feet, levies on the circulating medium of the air between my throat and the people's ears, forecloses a chattel mortgage on the iridescence of the stars, filches the light of the moon, and fixes a sheriff's padlock on the very atmosohere of God." "The Caid," by Arnold Bennett (Methuen, 2s 6d) is a story for Staffordshiremen and other Englishmen, and for New ( Zealanders incidentally. It is a man's novel and a business man's novel, and makes a readable display of English character— lighter and more readable than most of the " Five Towns " stories. Bennett's shrewdness and persistence are winning him a vogue, and he deserves credit for his English realism, but in a general view his energy is more notable than his ability, and'his work lacks j life — it -s well shaped, well phrased, yet you can drop it at any page without ( much sense of ]os 6. He strikes us as a man of action who has forced himself to become a man of thought — a bull terrier who has taken to climbing trees, and does climb trees — a deep-sea sailor who creditably takes his trick at the wheel in the literary galley, yet after al) is not at home there. But "The Card " is gay enough and good enough. " Where Truth Lies," by 0. Madox Hueffer (Stanley Paul, 2s 6d), is an extravaganza so ingeniously dreamed thai it deserves to be more soundly constructed. The heroine is gay ; but she is not a ladies' heroine. We recommend the tale to wild and sportive spirits. j FINGER-PRINT EVIDENCE. "The Eed Thumb Mark," by E. A. Freeman (Ho'dder and Stoughton), is a book for lawyers and the police, and for intellectual people who enjoy the display of forensic logic. Its object ia partly to show that "the fingerprint sya tern" of detecting crime loses value as coon as it is confronted by forgery — the forgery of a finger-print being much more easy than the forgery of a signature. The author urges his argument in the well-written story of a crime, using' a considerable apparatus of legal v and scientific knowledge. The incidental commentary is instructive: — "When the police have made an arrest they work for a conviction. , If the man is innocent, that is his business, not theirs; it is for him to prove it. The system is a pernicious one — especially since the efficiency of a police officer is, in consequence, apt to be estimated by the number of convictions he has secured, and an inducement is thus held out to him to obtain a conviction, if possible ; but it is of a piece with legislative procedure in general. Lawyers are not engaged 'in academic discussions or in

the pursuit of truth, but each is trying, by hook or by crook, to make out a particular case without regard to its actual truth or even to the lawyer's own belief on the subject. That is what produces so much friction between lawyers and scientific witnesses; neither can understand the point of view of the other." "You have emancipated yourself, at least to some extent, from the great finger-print obsession, which has possessed the legal mind ever since Gafton published his epoch-making monograph. In that work I remember he states that a finger-print affords evidence requiring no corroboration — a most dangerous and misleading statement, which has been fastened upon eagerly by the police, who have naturally been delighted at obtaining a sort of magic touchstone by which they are saved the labour of investigation. But there is no such tiling as a single fact that 'affords evidence requiring no corroboration.' As well might one expect to make a syllogism with a single premise." Galton's statement, at p. 112 of "Finger-Prints" (Macmillan; 1892) is that — "Whatever reductions a legitiihate criticism may make in the numerical results arrived at in this chapter, bearing in mind the occasional ambiguities pictured in Fig. 18, the broad fact remains, that a complete or nearly complete, accordancß between two prints of a single finger, and vastly more so between the prints of two or more fingers, affords evidence requiring no • corroboration that the persons from whom they were made are the same." This is a statement which, in its general application, R. A. Freeman's book attacks successfully, by showing that a good mechanical transfer of a fingerprint cannot be distinguished from the original print. "That statement,'.' says counsel in "The Red Thumb Mark," is in the highest degree misleading, and ought not to have been made without <^ue warning and qualification. So far is it from being true in practice, that ,its exact contrary is the fact; the evidence of a fingerprint, in the absence of corroborahoii, is absolutely worthless. Of all forms of forgery, the forgery of a 'finger-print is the easiest and most secure, ac you have seen in this court to-day. Consider the character of the high-class forger — his skill, hie ingenuity, his resource.' Think of the forged bank-notes, of which not only the engraving, the design, and the signature, but even the very paper with its private watermarks, is imitated with a perfection that is at once the admiration and despair of those who have to distinguish the true from the false; think of the forged cheque, in. which actual perforations are filled up, of which portions are cut out boldly and replaced by indistinguishable patches ; thbik of these, and then of the finger-print, of "which any photo-engraver's apprentice can make you a forgery that the greatest experts cannot distinguish from the original, which any capable amateur can imitate beyond detection after a month's practice ; and then ask yourselves il this is the kind of evidence on which, without any support or corroboration, a gentleman of honour and position should be dragged before a criminal court and charged with having committed a crime of the basest and most sordid type." Foa the argument that stationmasters are splay-footed, see p. 113 !