BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

Evening Star, Issue 20132, 23 March 1929, Page 21

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

VERSES AUTUMN MISTS. Must in tho pearly dawn, With films of gossamer on drenching leas ; Mist like a curtain drawn To veil tho shimmering, murmurous seas; Mist where tho old road drops Between the larches and the cottage eaves—• Mist over glade and copse Weaving a witchery of the yellowing leaves. Mist that is like a breath Blurring the surface 'of some secret pool, Or stream that lingereth Through tangled willow-banks and rushes cool •, 0 tender, clinging haze, Suffused at sundown with a smouldering fire— Mother of luring greys And lurking blues, of dreamlight and desire. Arthur L. Salmon. OLD CITIES. “I like a city that is worn and old, Where stones are hollowed by the press of feet, Where gables sag, and open doorways hold . A store of legends, where a narrow street Will twist and turn before me leisurely, And windows stare at me like tired eyes. I know these cities and I love them well Because they seem to me Like men who grow more feeble yet more wise, With nothing much to do, hut much to tell.” —Gertrude Ryder ; Bennett, iu the Century Magazine.’ DICKENS'S LAST LETTER HIS RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS. By a curious coincidence the possessor of what is believed to be the last letter written by Charles Dickens is Mr Eliot Makeham, who is the Sam Weller of tho Haymarket Theatre production of ‘Mr Pickwick.’ The letter was addressed from Gads Hill Place, Higham-by-Rochester, to Mr Makeham’s grandfather, John Matthew Makeham, iu reply to a protest against the following passage in ‘Edwin Drood’ (then running in numbers as a serial) : “Into this herbaceous penitentiary would the Reverend Septimus submissively bo led like the highly popular lamb who has so long and unresistingly been led to the slaughter, and there would he, unlike that lamb, bore nobody hut himself.” To this protest Dickens replied, under date Juno J, 1870 (six days before his death), as follows: “ It -would be quite inconceivable to me—but for your letter—that any reasonable reader could possibly attach a Scriptural reference to a passage in a book of mine, reproducing a muchabused social figure of speech, impressed into all sorts of service on all sorts of inappropriate occasions, without the faintest connection of it with its original source. lam truly shocked to find that any reader can make the mistake. I have always striven in my writings to express veneration for the life and lessons of our Saviour, because I feel it; and because I rewrote that history for my children—every one of whom knew it Irom having it repeated to them long before they could read, and almost as soon as they could speak. Bilt I have never made proclamation of this from the housetops.”

THE CARE OF BOOKS “ PREVENTION OF CRUELTY.” In a. plea for the care of hooks, Mr Holbrook Jackson, writing in ‘Town and Country Homes,’ declares that there ought to ho a society for the prevention of cruelty to books. As ho points out, cultured and intelligent people and even bibliophiles have been known to treat books abominably. Abundant evidence may be found by even a brief examination of the better typo of book in the public and subscription libraries. It is amazing to note how many of the volumes in so cultured an institution as the London Library bear the marks of ill-usage. But great scholars and even poets have been notorious offenders. Doctor Johnson was peculiarly rough on books; he would handle them unmercifully, turning down their pages to mark a place, bending back the volume until the two covers met in reverse for the convenience of reading. This sort of treatment is as old as scholarship itself, for Richard Du Bury, in his ‘ Philobiblion ’ devotes a whole chapter to the condemnation of the carelessness of students when using the books in the libraries of his day—and this was at a time when each volume was a unique manuscript and, as like as not, worth its weight in gold. Mr Jackson is particularly rabid against “that violent household game known as spring-cleaning.” Books, he says, should never be spring-cleaned.

40,000 BOOKS ON NAPOLEON “ . . . For more than a hundred years the mystery of Napoleon has been growing greater. Yet, however strange it may seem in spite of all his fame, Napoleon is unknown. Forty thousand volumes are as forty thousand tombstones, and beneath them lies the ‘Unknown Soldier.’” Starting with that view M. Dmitri S. Alerezhkovsky, the famous Russian novelist, has, in his book, ‘ Napoleon; A Study,' translated by Catherine Zvegintzov, made a psychological study of Napoleon of very great interest. M. Alerezhkovsky declares that only one man judged Napoleon as an equal—Goethe. “ what Napoleon was in action, Goethe was in contemplation; both were titans who had bridled chaos—the Revolution.” and he quotes Goethe’s judgment —“the judgment of an equal”— “ His life was the stride of a demigod. He was in a state of continual enlightenment. His destiny was more brilliant than any the world had seen be-

A LITERARY CORNER

fore him or after him.” That is in the mam the conclusion of M. Merezhkovsky. and his book is one which no student of the great mass of literature which has gathered round Napoleon can afford to miss. M. Alorezhkovsky quotes largely from N.apoleon. Another book which is an important addition to the forty thousand, quotes even more largely.' It is ‘ Memoirs of Napoleon,’ compiled from his own writings by F. M. Kircheisen The object of it is to give Napoleon’s story as far as posible in his own words: ‘‘ln letters, memoirs, ambassadorial reports, descriptions of campaigns by men who took part in them, the works of missionaries in St Helena, as well as in the writings and dictations of the Emperor himself/' says the compiler, “ immense treasures lie hidden which, when set out in a skilful way, give an almost com plate picture of Napoleon’s life as presented by himself.” From these documents Herr Kircheisen,has, with infinite pains and skill built up a book which is original in conception and carried thro’ugh with great skill.

SWiSS POET’S MSS. TO BE RESTORED MUSSOLINI PUTS THINGS RIGHT. News comes from Rome that a number of manuscripts of the Bernese scientist and poet, Albrecht von Haller, will be given back to his native town. In the eighteenth century ho was a European authority on botany and medicine, and was the first Swiss poet to write in “High German” instead of Swiss dialect. It is partly cAving to his initiative that Swiss German did not develop into a written language like Dutch. ■ ■ Haller’s manuscripts, after changing hands several times, came into the possession of the Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria, who distributed them among different libraries. Many valuable pieces came to the Brera Library, at Milan. For many years the Berne Library has been trying to get them hack in exchange for manuscripts of interest to Italy, but all offers were considered inadequate till Mussolini himself last summer promised the Swiss Ambassador at Romo to take the matter in hand. To the great satisfaction of Berne, the Italian statesman is now making good his word.

NOTES What it is claimed will be the largest book shop in tho world will be erected on the site of the Old Goldbeaters’ House, Manette street, London, by W. and G. Foyle, Ltd. There will be room for nearly*2,ooo,ooo volumes in a building of six floors. At present, it is stated, Foyle’s distribute thirty tons of school books each week. When the new building is completed they expect to increase their output to fifty tons. The business was established twenty-five years ago with a few books, no capital, and three customers a week.. At present each week 50,000 volumes are bought, 35,000 are sold, 10,000 are “wasted,” and sometimes 10,000 customers are served.

Looking back on the novels of 1928, J. 0. Squire expresses his satisfaction that writers are recovering from the shell-shock of the war and are settling down to draw steadier pictures of a world which is itself settling clown. “ A literature of complacency, he says, “ we do not want, but a literature of nerves is dreadful.” Reviewing last yegr’s record of new* verse, Charles Powell singles out Laurence Binyon as having restored the eagle flight to poetry.

R. R. Tatlock, the editor of the ‘Burlington Magazine,’ criticises the publishers of most illustrated reprints for not realising the possibilities of relating pictorial to literary art. They employ decorators who stick to their own style and fail to respond in any way to tho style of tho author. Thus, the illustrations to a recent edition of Swinburne, if Air Tatlock had seen them apart from the book, would not have led him to suppose that the poet has been in the artist’s mind.

Air Robert Blatchford writes that ho has made a discovery. A new “Rubaiyat ” has come into his hand, which he claims to be an equally beautiful poem and an equally brilliant translation with Omar's famous book. It is Mr Henry Baerlein’s translation from the Arabic of AbuT-Ala’s ‘Diwan.’ The Persian Omar and the Arabian Abu were both writers of the tenth century, both were fatalists, and both treated o| tho philosophy of life. It would be difficult to find any two great poets as near, akin, and it is remarkable that they should have been equally fortunate in their translators. Even in size the books are similar; the ‘Rubaiyat’ has 101 fourline stanzas and the ‘ Diwan ’ 109. Here is a neglected masterpiece which has only to he known to be in every booklover’s library. The ‘ Oxford University Press ’ announces the 1929 edition of Crock ford’s Clerical Directory. The composition, printing, and binding of this issue have been carried out entirely at Oxford, and the paper made, at the mills at Wolvercote. . It will be_ nearly 300 pages less than the previous volume, owing to a rearrangement of the contents, and the arms have been redrawn and the book bound in a newly-de-signed cover.

Air Augustine Birreli, who entered his eightieth year on January 19, can now (the ‘Newspaper World’ says) be reckoned as a veteran among men of letters, for in tho realm of politics Mr Birrell’s name no longer counts. Tho earliest of his published works, ‘Obiter Dicta’ (1885' and 1887), brought him repute—‘ More Obiter Dicta’ was published in 1924. In the closing year of last century Air Birred opened the session of the Edinburgh Philosophical Institution with a lecture on the subject ‘ls It Possible to Tell a Good Book from a Bad One?’ Mr Birreli now writes chiefly in the columns of the ‘Nation.’

John Quincey Adams, in his crusty way, showed a liking for Anne Royall. “A virago errant in enchanted armour,” he called her; ho had her to dinner at the White House, and he defended her in public life more than once. But there was one thing Adams would not do; Ju- would not give her an interview, especially on the thorniest subject of tho day, the United States Bank, Airs Royall bided her

;ime, and one day she went down to the banks of the Potomac, where it was the President’s custom in those simple days to swim in the early morning, having left his clothes conveniently on the shore. Mrs Royall sat on the clothes and called to the unsuspecting President in the water that now was the time for an interview on the United States Bank. Adams emerged, shoulder high, and remonstrated furiously; but he was told, firmly: “No interview, mr clothes.” Mrs Royall obtained the interview, and it is to Jier, enduring credit that she never told how she got it.

Henry Festing Jones, of Ma Ida vale, author, literary critic, atid musician, biographer of Samuel Butler (author of ‘Erewhon’). who died in December, left £ 22,777 , net personalty £IO,OIO. He gave £SOO to St John’s College, Cambridge, with the request that_ it should be usea as a fund for keeping in good order and condition the books, MSS. music, pictures, and other objects forming the “Butler Collection” held by that college.

“ A table used by Keats for dispensing when he was apprenticed to chemistry "at Edmonton has been sold for a few shillings with a lot of lumber at a local auction mart, and its whereabouts are unknown,” said Mr Percy Farmborough, when addressing the Edmonton Rotary Club. According to Mr Farmborough, who is Edmonton’s chief public librarian, _ the table stood in an old house Tvhere ’Keats was apprenticed which had been pulled down recently.

One of the letters of Carlyle recently presented to the Scottish National Library contains an interesting reminder of the fact that when Carlyle was young and struggling letters were a luxury. There was an arrangement with liis family that two strokes on the newspaper wrapper sent by post meant “ all well,” and three meant “ got your letter.” In December, 1840, Carlyle wrote: “It is a pity to trust to strokes now that letters only cost one penny sterling.”

A correspondent writes to the 1 Morning Post ’; “In Rome recently I visited the Keats memorial house on the Spanish Steps, and afterwards the poet’s last resting place. It was a shock to find his memorial tablet, near the grave, placed over a ditch, at present half-full of rubbish—leaves and sticks and paper. The whole cemetery seems derelict and unkempt. The newer part, where Shelley lies, is overshaded and dismal.”

A correspondent writes to the ‘ Passing Show ’: “ This game of guessing the most prolific author living promises (or threatens) to become as popular as the ‘ General Knowledge ’ craze. Both Phillips Oppenheim and J. S. Fletcher can give points to Edgar Wallace; while the palm of victory goes to the veteran Fergus Hum© (once a bank clerk in Dunedin), who can muster 139 books. I have not read them all.” Fergus Hume’s best seller, ‘ The Mystery of a Hansom Cab,’ appeared as long ago as 1887—about the same time as Hugh Conway’s ‘Called Back,’which also sold in enormous numbers.

Mr Baldwin once said that lie was neither an author nor likely to become one, but he is growing fond of what I may perhaps call spotting literary winners (says ‘John o’ London’s Weekly ’). Everybody knows what his recommendation did for Mary Webb’s ‘ Precious Bane.’ _ And the other clay he told the American Society in London that lie thought Anna K. Green’s ‘ Leavenworth Case ’ “one of the best detective stories ever written.” How many people in these days know anything about Anna K. Green? She was born in Brooklyn as long ago as 1846, and is still alive in Buffalo. ‘The Leavenworth Case,’ written in 1876, was her first novel, and it brought her fame both in America and Great Britain. Fram then until, I think, 1922, she published a crime story every two or three years, and i tost of them had a large sale. In 1884. she married Charles Eohlfs, a furniture designer whose distinctive stylo attracted pruch custom from Europe. ‘ The Leavenworth Case,’ whic has been out of print for eight years, is being republished by Gallancz,

That Napoleon the Great wrote a novel, in addition to his other achievements, is revealed by Professor Askenazy, and the work is to be published in Warsaw, says a Reuter message from Paris. The book is called ‘ Clisson Et Eugenie,’ and it was written when Napoleon was a junior artillery officer. It is said to be an autobiographical Iragment dealing with Napoleon’s love affair with Desiree Clary, who eventually married Marshal Bernadette, and became the Queen of Sweden when the throne was given to her husband. The story is written in vigorous, passinoate style, but the manuscript was so worn with age that its editing was a task of considerable difficulty. To all appearances the author was very proud of his literary effort. He had it bound with the rough draft of his plans for his first campaign in Italy and other plans. The manuscript was among the papers he took with him to St. Helena.

George Augustus Sala was a famous journalist of the Victorian age, though almost forgottei to-day. The centenary of his birth was marked by an article about him in the London ‘ Bookman.’ Mr S'. M. Ellis, who writes the article, quotes from friends of Sala descriptions of incidents which showed his irritable disposition, though it is generally conceded that he was generous and warm-hearted. Mr Ellis tells of an action for libel brought by Sola in 1871 against James Hain Friswell on the plea that he had been grossly attacked in that writer’s book, ‘ Men of Letters Honestly Criticised.’ Friswell had said Sala was “ utterly careless of Tiis own reputation and of the dignity of Letters”: but Sala’s chief grievance was the application to him of the French word “ gougenard,” ■which he took to mean “goggle-eyed”; counsel on both sides agreed that it signified “jovial or jolly,” though the more literal translation is “ jeering or bantering.” However, Sala obtained a, verdict and received £SOO damages. The publishers of the book were nominally responsible, but Friswell insisted on paying half the amount. It is recalled that Sala, the first editor of 1 Temple Bar,’ had the happy thought of inventing as his motto for the cover of the magazine that' imaginary quotation from Boswell:—“Sir,” said Doctor -Johnson, “ let us take a walk down Fleet street.” In later years the proprietors were so pestered by inquiries from lovers _of Johnson for the source of the saying that they deleted the words from the covers of ‘ Temple Bar,’