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LITERATURE.
THE BOOK OF THE WEEK.
"The Reminiscences of Lady Dorothy
Nevill.'' Edited by her son, Ralph Nevill.
London: E. Arnold."
Lady Dorothy Nevill has lived as she
says, in the preface to her reminiscences,
"from the day of the postchaise intiWhat of
.' the motor car"-"a form of locomotion/"
ïhe adds, "to which I am by no means
? , averse." In this qualifying addition Wy
l>e found the keynote of this fascinatnjg
book. For though Lady Dorothy m a de
.dicatory note addresses the Marquis of
lAbergavenny as her "dear contemporary"
¡(he was born in 1826), though she con-
stantly refera to the vast change she has
witnessed in the world around her, she does
not allow her attachment to the past to
blunt her appreciation of modern things.
. Born in the house where Horace Walpole
lived and died. Lady Nevill is herself a
fWalpole. In a copy of his "Life" of that
«aghteentb. century 'worthy, presented to
lady Dorothy,' Mr. Austin Dobson wrote
the following charming lines, which till
.their appearance, in these reminiscences
»vere new to print- I
' To Lady Dorothy NevilL '
fitere is Horace, his life., I have ventured
to draw him
" [As the Berrys, the Conways, the Montagus
saw him- I
RTery kind to his friends, to the rest only ;
so-so;
¡Ä. talker, fine gentleman, wit, virtuoso.
ÍVVith running through all his sham Gothic
gimcrackery
IA. dash, of Sevigne, Saint Simon, and
Thackeray,
«or errors of ignorance, haste, execution,
From you, his descendant, I ask absolution.
Lady Dorothy remembers her grandmother,
Sophia Churchill, born about the middle of
the eighteenth century, and passages are
quoted from the diary of this aged relative.
The diarist's father witnessed the trial of
Hackman, the murderer of Miss Rae in
April, 1779. It was an age of sentiment,
and everyone in the court was in
tears, even the judge, who could
scarcely, between his sobs, articulate
the death sentence. The diarist saw the
funeral procession of Garrick, with its 35
six-horse mourning coaches ("and all their
coachmen and footmen had hatbands and
gloves") ; the whole pageant costing £1,000
or £2.000." She adds that Mrs. Garrick,
by all accounts, "is not so afflicted as one
could wish." In fact Mrs. Garrick took
her bereavement "as a stroke from heaven."
Lady Dorothy also remembers her two
.elderly cousins, the Misses Walpoles, whose
,/another was'a daughter of the great Lord
«live.
f " On one occasion, when both of the two
-»were well over 90, Miss Fanny, the younger,
"Who had that day been rather unwell, only
ibinednher sister in the sitting room just
.before dinner. On her arrival downstairs
the latter (Miss Charlotte by name) re-
marked-"Fanny, I am going to be ill, too;
I feel so hot about Jhe head; it must be
apoplexy" "Nothing of the sort!" ex-
claimed Miss Fanny, making a dash at her
sister's head; "your cap's on fire, and I'm
coiiig to put it out," And the brave cid
lady did.
Politics in those days of a limited fran-
chise were more corrupt than they now are.
ÎWith a somewhat curious naivete, the
raconteuse writes of her father:
Besides expending considerable sams m
this way (i.e., in backing losers and run-
ning a racing stable), he got rid of mints
of money in elections, for he was one<of the
old-fashioned Tories of the day. This, how-
ever, unlike racing, produced some return,
for he had great power in the county of
Korfolk, which at that time had not de
iVeloped those Radical tendencies which
bow characterise it.
This sound, "old-fashionedi Tory" had a
dislike, not shared by his daughter, for the
tailway, and the coach was employed to
v convey the family from their town to their
eountry house, the Journey occupying tw
T days. The family seat was in Norfolk, and
the writer recalls the never-to-be-forgotten
murder of the Jenny family by Jame»,
Jßloomfield Hush. Bush was Mr.' Jermy's
^ tenant, ""and the tragedy originated in some
trouble abont money. Under the influence
of 6ome real or fancied wrong, Rush pro-
cured a gun, and, wearing a mask composea
of a (fringe of black glossy hair, a beard
> and moustache combined, shot dead several
of the inmates of Stanfield Hall. The prin-
cipal w««&ess against him was his maid-
servant, Emily Sandford, who lived with
him as his mistress, and who not long after
?" wards ^came to Adelaide, where for some
tittle time she followed the calling of a
barmaid. Rush, who was once in affluent
circumstances, was self-indulgent to the
- last, and the laie George Augustus Sala,
1 "Who witnessed his execution in front
- Norwich Castle in 1849, tells how, for his
last dinner, the miscreant ordered "pig
i>nAnd plenty of plum sauce." "Tuck it well
_nder my ear," he was heard to say as
' Calcraft was adjusting the rope. bcher
r?t_*trange characters figure in Lady Dorothy's
"bages, for example, King Ludwig of Ba
/,, Parja, whom she saw engaged in a most
1 nnkingly and unpleasant game of search
*' -ing -with 'his mouth for a ring hidden in
x some flour. This was' in the forties. But
} the author's memory / goes back to
- an earlier' period, when , Lady Blessing-
ton was drrvmg about London in a
barouche, "wearing a sort of turban-like
- headdress," with-her face so enveloped in
scarves that she'looked as though she were
.suffering from toothache. Count D'Orsay,
' the last of the beaux, was stall an elegant
figure in society, and at one of the many
breakfasts given by Samuel Rogers, the
^-banker-poet," Lady Dorothy met Tom
Moore, the poet, of whom she has a vivid
recollection, "sitting crumpled up, as it
were, m his chair, a little wizened figure,
dressed in a blue coat and nankeen waist-
coat." Her ladyship entered Society m
the days "before the rank and file were ad-
mitted," and when it was "considered a
di-oadful thing for a lady of birth to go out
walking without a man-servant behind her.'"
The last lady to follow this absurd prac-
tice was the old Duchess of Cleveland
(Lady William Poulett that was), who
never went abroad without a footman fol-
lowing her with a cane, like a school mas-
ter, one is tempted to think, in pursuit of
a truant. Society has degenerated since
Lady Dorothy's day:
Half a century "ago a rich man-let us
say a landed proprietor (the Wealthy oi
that day as a rule drew the greater part of
thejr revenue iran land, but, my friend
Mr. Cobden changed all that)-was quite
content to bve the greater part of the year
,011 Ids estate, where he amused himseii
wjth the sport which satisfied the moderate
taste of those days, li he had not a house
in. town he hired one for three months or
so.'«»hen he would.bring up his wife and
dauijhters Jor the season. Enteitainmenta
vtere\ certainly given-entertainments tlie
comparative modesty of which would to-day
provoke* a contemptuous smile-and tlie
season o\er the family would once more re-
turn to fije country, there to remain until
the following year. Tbis mode oi lue wab
in some cas^s varied by a voyage (no other
word is applicable) abroad. Many years
ago when lxfirst knew London society, it
was more like, a large farndy than anything
else. Everyone knew exactly who every-
body else wasy.and it was extremely diffi
cult--nay, almost impossible-ior a stranger
to obtain a place^untd credentials had been
carefully examined and discussed. Mere
wealth vi as no passport. In old days
society was an as-^mblage of people wiio,
either by birth, intellect, or aptitude, were
ladies and gentlemen <n the true sense of
tlie word. For the mo,st part fairly, though
not extravagantly, doweled with the good
tilings of the world, it had no ulterior ob-
ject beyond intell.gent, bultured, and dig-
nified enjoyment, inoney-njaking being lett
te another class which, from time to time,
supplied a selected recruit \ to this corps
d'elite. Now. all is changed, and wealth
has usurped the,place formerly held by w11
and learning;. Ihe question is not now
a*ked, "Is So-andso clever?" but, instead,
"Is So-and-so rich?" When Sainuel War-
ren wrote his famous novel, "Ten 'Thousand
a Year," such an income was, considered
princely, and its fortunate possessor rich
beyond the dreams of avarice. "jVliat is it
to-day? Why, your modern ^millionaire
gives as much for a single picture, whilst
up-to-date entertaining od such a sum
hardly possible. Ten thousand alvear
still, of course, a snug fortune, sutiicfrnl to
have a little shooting, some hunring, a
modest house ip the country, and a> email
pied-a-terre in town; but it is not-riches,
uor, according to latter day ideas, anything
like it, though, oddly enough, the purithns
ing power of money is greater rather '""
jess. v
Prince Louis Napoleon was then a "v^
agreeable" figure in society, but,he
looked upon as an impecunious advent
The matrons who kept their daughters oui"
of^ his way had never the smallest notion^
that he would develop into an Emperor.
Morally his reputation was bad, but noth-
ing like that of Lord Hertford, who never
had less than half a dozen mistresses at a
time, and, as Lord Steyne, is described with
remarkable accuracy m Thackeray's master-
piece. Speaking of Thackeray, the author
relates that seated at a dinner table at
which the novelist was present, she seized
the occasion to enquire
." "Perhaps you can, tell me whether the
'malformation of Mr. Thackeray's nose ii
natural or the result of an accident?"
To my great surprise Mr. Venables seemed
very much upset by my question, stamm ei
ing out, "It was injured in an accident at
school." I could not understand his con-
fusion, but asking someone its reason after
dinner, fully realised what an unfortunate
question I had asked, when I learnt that
it was Mr. Venables who, as a boy at
school, had broken Thackeray?« nose in
fight.
Thackeray suggests Dickens, whom the
author knew.
Dining by my side just before his death
he simply bubbled over with fun and con-
versation, talking in a way which resembled
nothing bo much as some of the best pas-
sages in his Q,wn books. He laughed and
chaffed, telling me, I remember, that he
had a great scheme for writing a cookery
book.
Writing of the sixties, Lady Dorothy tells
an anecdote in illustration of Lady Moles
worth's craze fot soriah'e-tertaiimiènf"
Samuel Wilberforce once said to me-"I
believe if the King of the Cannibal Islands
were to come to England, within twenty
four hours' he would be dining with Lady
Molesworth"-a prediction which did" not
seem to me at all exaggerated.
There is a reference to a certain
gorgeously-dressed peer unnamed, who was
said to have the manners of an Italian
organ grinder, with the morals of his
monkey. So far as manners are concerned
the description wonld eminently'fit the
second Duke of Wellington.
Sir Henry Irving' had been his guest at
Strathfieldsaye, and was about to depart.
The carriage had been at_ the door for
two or three minutes, whilst Mr. Irving
was lingering over lunch, when at last he
said to the duke, "Well. I suppose I ought
to lie off now, though there is still plenty
of time. ' To which the answer was,
"Mr. Irving, the day is hot-the.horses
not yours-you had better go."
The duke had an aversion for cold, apro-
pos of which we have the following story:
He was very fond of warm rooms, and
used always to grumble at me on account
of the small size of my grates. Coming to
lunch one day, he had no sooner entered
the room than, casting a glance at the
fire "(which, I must confess, was not a
very bright one) he turned to" the footman
who had announced him, and said, "Bring
me my coat."
The lady might have found some means j
of retaliating, but the lackey had, ot j
course, to swallow the ducal rudeness of
the manner in which the request was
made. The same ungentlemanly peer
went to the Crystal Palace one day to
witness a donkey show, and insisted upon
walking in the enclosure reserved for the
judges.
Presently an official approached him and
said,. "Sir, may I ask, are you a judge?"
A judge of whatr' thundered the
duke.' "Of " donkeys," came the re-
ply. "Certainly I am, and" Oooking
hard at the man), "a very good one too;
leave me alone." Very much abashed,
the man slunk back to his fellows, and an-
other consultation ensued. eventually
someone recognised the identity of the ec-
centric stranger, who, indeed, presented a
figure, once seen, difficult to forget, and
the committee of management sent to
him to say that they would esteem it an
honor if he would consent to act as one
of tlie judges.
It is curious to speculate whether if the
duke had been in social rank the coster
monger he was by nature the behavior
of the committee would have been
altogether the same. There is
good story of "Bishop Colenso,
whose failure to square his arith-
metic with that of the Bible got him into
so much trouble with his ecclesiastical
friends
It must have been about the middle of
the last century that Mr. Lear published
his celebrated "'Book of Nonsense," con-
sisting of a collection of clever sketches
with appropriate jingling rhymes, wnich
not only commanded a widespread sale,
but also inevitably called forth an endless
series (chiefly inferior) of rhyming imi-
tations, many of which derived their tem-
porary importance from topics and perso-
nalities of the day. One specimen of the
kind, probably now generally .forgotten,
acquired a passing vogue by having for its
subject Bishop Colenso (at that time m
the full swing of his doctrinal controver-
sies), and ran thus:
There was a queer Bishop of Natal,
To whom an objection proved fatal.
"You don't," 6aid the Zulu,
"Believe that, vou fool, you?"
"Not at all," said the Bishop of Natal.
Wc are given a story about George
Payne, who dropped his worldly means in
the quicksands of the turf, but was always
unruffled and pleasant in conversation:
"Are you not coming to church, Mr.
Payne?" was on one occasion the stern
interrogation of his hostess, a very great
¡adv, who descended upon him in all the
severity of her Sabbath panopoly. "No,
duchess, I am not," he replied, making
swiftly for the door, but, pausing, as h\
a polite after-thought, previous to his exit,
he exclaimed, with magnificent emphasis,
'not that I see any harm in it."
'Bernai Osborne, a more celebrated wit,
once described a person as "having no af-
fections at all, except rheumatic ones."
Some singular stories are told, incidentally
as ir voprc. Here is one:
A certain Cardinal was ushered without
feat ceremony into the presence of both |
ing, Queen, and their children, while the
former was partaking of a hemely luncheon
very perceptibly flavored by raw onious. At
the close of this somewhat unconventional
reception the cardinal, on taking leave, ex-.
pressed, in fittingly flowery language, his I
pleasure in seeing and admiration cf the,
Royal progeny; whereupon, to the confusion
of Queen and holy horror of card nil, this]
impulsively indecorous monarch blurted ont
"Ah! if your eminence could only see my
Vuher family!" . I
\ And here is another:
IA popular matron, finding herself, al-
though rather advanced in middle age,
liKely to add one 'more shaft to an already
weu-garnished quiver cf family arrows, de-
clined an invitation in the country on the
groiind that "about that time she was ex
peettjäg the arrival of a very near relation
whoin she had never seen."
Among" statesmen and publicists the au-
thor Ifad many friends. Here is a portrait
of Cobden'at home:
"A niost good-tempered man, Mr. Cob-
den used to work under what to anyone e'si*
would have been very disturbing surround
inga, writing his letters in the drawing
room of* has, house whüsi his children
romped abou", and constantly interrupted
his labors by'ltbeir shouting and laughter,
which, however, never seemed to disturb
him at all." \ \
The foUowinà story is told of Abraham
Hayward, Q.C.^ of "Quarterly Review'" 1
fame:- ' '
Mr. Bayward'«, political-convictions were
liberal, and \ the isinall services
he rendered as atPalmerstonian satellite
procured him the run of a good many social
circles, of which he, was for some years a
fairly entertaining member, gradually 'de-
teriorated by sociétés - toleration, and he
grew addicted to rather aggressive noisiness,
more especially after à copious dinner, such
as his soul (to particularise no physical or
gan) greatly loved."*t>Hô. of his most irritât-'
ing habits was a trick of constant misquo-
tation in French, believing himself to be a
master of the languaee, a'So. remaining sub-
limely unconscious of the errors into which
he blundered. On one occasion, for in-
stance, for some reason of his own, anxious
to impress his hearers wit4h a sense of his
personal importance in having been acquain-
ted with a celebrated woman, he sought to
do so through the medium of the accepted
French saying-"Je ne suis pas la rose,
mais j'ai vécu près d'elle." (1 am not che
rose, but I have lived near it.) Unfortu-
nately, however, he stumb'ed upon the word
"avec" ("with") instead of "près" ("near")
without suspicion of the so.ecism hie had
committed, and the entirely changed mean-
ing of the phrase,.and was, in consequence,
summarily annihilated by the sarcasm.
"Well, if yo-.have, it isn't manners to say
so."
One day Lady Dorothy heard Gladstone
talking about the safeness of the times,
how public men couM go about unguarded
everywhere:- . * '
I happened to know that while be was
sitting at a dinner table with two detectives, |
provided by Scotland Yard, in order to
watch over him, were standing in the toom,
while another was upstairs to mix with the
guests at the party which was afterwards
to be given. The Grand Old Man's ;two
guardians -at the dinner were dressed\ as
footmen, one standing immediate'y behind:
his chair, while the other took up a position
directly opposite on the other side or "he ?
table. "
Disraeli was fond of many things, but
Lady Dorothy never heard him express any
particular" partiality for strawberries.
I sat next Mr. Gladátone at dinner some
time after Lord Beaconsfield's death, and
in the course of conversation he suddenly
said-"Tell me, Lady Dorothy, upon your
honor, have you ever heard Lord Beacons-
field express any particular fondness for
the primrose?" I was compelled to admit
that I had not, upon wiiich he said:-''The
gorgeous lily, I tiiink, was more to his
taste."
The Tory leader's supposed cult of the
primrose is thus explained:
As a matter of fact, 1 believe that Qneen
Victoria at the proper season invanably
sent Lord Beaconsfield primroses from the
slope «t Windsor, and it is probable that,
havisfi expressed to someone his warm ap-
preciation of these flowers, it wag in con-
sequence assumed that the great statesman
ha¿ a strong partiality for the primrose.
Here is an account of .the author's first
meeting with Disraeli:
It was at a party, given for very young
people, that I first met Mr. Disraeli, gor-
geously dressed, a resplendent dandy as he
was at that tune. Chancing to be standing
not far away 1 hear bim say, "Pray who
is that young lady who looks as if she had
come out of a picture oi George H's time?"
He ivas told, and at once came np to me,
saying, "You are dear Walpole's sister, and
I must know you." Thus began an intimacy
that lasted to the end of his life. To me
he was always not only the great politician,
but the delightful friend. In society, how-
ever, unless something chanced to arouse
his interest, he was somewhat in
clined to suence, taking bnt_ little
part in the general conversation. I
think at heart he had a profound
contempt for frivolity. There were
occasions, indeed, when he would hardly
utter a word, and would assume an air
which instinctively caused people not to at-
tempt to rouse him from wnat appeared al-
most a lethargy. His mind, I fancy, was
always running upon politics, which were
the one end and object of his existence.
Very apt to be depressed by political mat-
ters going contrary to his wishes, he enter-
tained a settled conviction that he vr,as_ un-
popular, and that opposition to his views
arose from this cause alone.
Mr. Chamberlain the author met at din-
ner at Lady Jeune'ç, where orchids sup-
plied them with a common bond of inte-
rest. Time was when the dames of the
Primrose League regarded Mr. Chamberlain
as a "Radical horror." Lady Chesterfield,
[ who was in the habit of sending ^ Lady
i Dorothy a turkey at Christmas time, on
I one occasion withheld it from a fear lest
Mr. Chamberlain should be allowed to re-
gale his palate therewith. The I bird was
sent when it was explained that it would
encounter no worse teeth than those of Sir
Stafford Northcote. Lady Dorothy records
the satisfaction she herself felt when Mr.
Chamberlain, renouncing Liberalism, took
his place in the hierarchy of political saints,
rhe Conservative statesman referred, to in
the following story was, no doubt, Lord
Randolph Churchill:
On one occasion, when a certain Conser-
vative politician was making speeches
which were really ultra-democratic in tone,
ae amused me very much by comparing him
to the Irishman, whose sedan chair having
lost its bottom, exclaimed, "But for the
honor, I had as lief walk." "Your friend,"
he said, "wLl perhaps find out that but for
the honor he might as well be a Radical."
Lord Randolph, for some year, was a
pretty constant visitor at Lady Dorothy's
I Sunday luncheons. Before starting for
South Africa he wrote to her:-"In
Mashonaiaud on Sundays at 2 o'clock 1
.-.hall think of you." On his return he ap-
peared to her ladyship to be "in a strange
»tate, and altogether a different man from
the Lord Randolph Churchill of 'the
eighties." Locomotor ataxia had got him
in its grip. Here is an anecdote in con-
nection with Lord Salisbury:
I remember a great entertainment at
Hatfield given to a number of Irish Con-
servatives; everything was, as usual, very
well done, and the Irishmen were de,ighted,
doing, I may remark, full justice to the
champagne; so mucu. was this the case that
one of the islanders, approaching Lady,
?salisbury (ot whose identity he was un-
aware), said, "Pray, ma am, will ye lead
me to a seat, for if i don't sit down I might
disgrace me country?" She conducted
the somewhat tottering son of Erin to a
Lreaeh, and a calamity was averted.
We are tola, incidentally that Lord Salis-
bury's only sport wag shooting rabbits, and
ae is applauded ¿or his "proficiency'' in that
uot very difficult pursuit.
FIOTION
"A Hundred to One Chance'.'' By Nat Gould, j
London: John Long. ."' j
I , There is no end to Mr. Goulds literary
recundity. "One down, the other comes
I oh^'is apparently his mottp. " 'The ..main"'
I situation m his latest story has often
enough been turned to account, the,'discov- j
ery by a pair of lovers that they .are, or |
may be brother and sister. In the pre-
sent instance there is, it turns outi no tie of
consanguinity between Carmen Delvaux and
Hen Berkley, tor though Baron Delvaux
was the lather of Carmen, Mrs. Berkley,
with whom he wickedly eloped, was not her
mother. There was bo legal obstacle there
iore to the marriage of the respective off-
spring of the erring pair.
The blindness of love is proverbial, but
Mrs. Berkley's infatuation remains inex-
plicable. For never was a more thorough-
paced ruffian than the baron seen outside
I melodrama. Ben Berkley and his mother's
seducer are rivals on the turf, where by
fraudulent practices the latter acquires con-
siderable sums. But his unholy gains are
drawn from more than one source, and it is
as head ot a gang of forgers that he is even-
tually tripped up. Ben gains a fortune by
the honest win of a horse with a hundred
to one chance, and the last obstacle to his
marriage with Carmen is thus removed. .The
curtain drops on the baron in the agonies
of a säf-wreugnt death. The characters,
like all Nat Gould's, are cleverly drawn, and
the story is written in the breezys spirited
fashion characteristic of the multitude to
which ins prolific pen has given birth.
"A Drama it» Sunshine." By Horace Annesley
Yacheü. London: T. Fisher Unwin.
It is a mercy that novel-writera of Mr.
Vacheü's class are not Pygmalions, or like
the maker of Frankenstein, and that their
characters are, after all, only shadowy ideas,
represented by nothing mere than a certain
number of sheets of paper and a certain
quantity of ink. If they were actually men
and women, living and.moving, and having
their being in our midst, what an awful
world this would be! One's life would not
be worth an hour's purchase, for what with
the importance of the law, and the annihi-
lation of conscience, seduction, fraud, mur-
der, and every other imaginable crime would
ride roughshod over us, and the law would
be nowhere.
Damaris, the heroine, has a shameful
origin, being the offspring of Dennis Fabian
and his brother's, mistress. She is a girl
of many attractions, and finds an eager
lover and a devoted husband in William
C}hillingworth, her father's partner. While
still ignorant of her parentage, her hus-
band's ranch is visited by Fabian's legiti-
mate children, Reginald and Joan. Joan
makes love to the husband, and Reginald
-unaware of hi8 close relationship to Da
inaris-*-doe8 not disguise his admiration
for her. Had his feeling been reciprocated
the results would have been too shocking
to dwell upon ; but fortunately Damaris is
loyal to her. husband, though indignant at
his infatuación with Joan. The husband is
in turn persecuted with the attentions of
a mad girl, who ultimately, gaining access
to his bedroom, attempts to murder him.
His life is saved by Damaris, who thus re-
capture's her husband's fickle fancy. The
book is not without cleverness. There are
several strong situations, but there are
parts, again, which are suggestive of a
nightmare rather than a drama in sunshine.
'Moon, Tace, send other Stories: Jack London:
Kew York, the Macmillan Company.
This is a hook of short stories, each with
a weird interest of its own. The narra-
tive from which the book takes its title
is grimly numerous, although hardly one
to raise a smile, for the interest rests upon
the many malignant acts of the hero, ¿i
such he can be called, to, bring gloom to
the face oí an optimistic axquaint-nce,
who insists on being merry, no matter how
fortune may frown. In the end the ir-
repressible gaiety of John Claverhouse is
dissipated ingeniously by means of a plug
of dynamite. The '.Leopard Man'3
Story*.' deaôs with the revenge of a circus
performer on an obnoxious lion-tamer, this
particular "comedy" ending with the biting
off of the head of the latter. "Local
color" is less awful in its humor, for the
tragedy in this case merely involves the
irresponsible critic of a poßce magistrate
in a sentence of 30 days' imprisonment.
"Amateur Night" recounts an episode in
the career of a lady journalist, and "The
Minions of Midas' has reference to the
perils of mmti-niaffionaires of .the American
type. The "Shadow and the Flash" tells
of the scientific rivalry of twt> wonderful
beings, whose inventive genius is utilised
for mutual destruction", a fortunate cir-
cumstance, which saved the world consider-
able trouble.
There are other stories, most of them
having already been published in Ameri-
can magazines. They are all well written
and 4aJUlp£ bx&*jsA£m^jm^t)l he.
heartily welcomed by the wide circle of
readers who have learned to admire Jack
London, as represented in "The Sea Wolf,"
and other of his novels and stories.
"Chambers* Concise Gazetteer of the Worid."
London; W. S: R. Chambers.
Based largely upon the geographical con-
tents of Chambers' Encyclopaedia, with the
addition of many new articles, this concse
gazetteer is well described by its tide. Ac- r
curacy is carefully studied, and every de !
partaient of the work is brought up to date. !
The latest census returns of every civilised
country are given, together with informa-
tion touching the associations, historical and
literary, of such places as are of special in-
terest. A large amount of matter, demanded
by the rapid march of events in all parts of
the world during recent years, is inchidtrd
in this édition. As a handy gazetteer the
work is without an equal.
"Glimpses of Australian Bird lÄfe." By Robert
Hall, P.L.S. Melbourne: T. a Lothian.
"Birds," as the author remarks, "are sus-
picious of strangers-which means that the
photographer must wait hours, or days, be-
fore he can have any marked success when
he is after them with his camera." Several
naturalists have combined in order to
secure the charming ornithological studies
in this book, Mr. A. H. Mattingley, the
late Mr. H. P. C. Ashworth, Mr. Arthur
B. Lord, and Mr. Hall himself, having each
contributed some of the pictures, of which
there are in all 31, consisting of original
photographs, direct from nature. 'lliey
are so excellently done that they really
help to the appreciation of what birds really
look like in their native haunts. The birds
whose nests or fledglings are photographed,
or who themselves appear in the plates, in-
clude the wedge-tailed eagle, the mallee f ow',
the whip bird, the reed warbler, the blue
wren, the thickhead, rob.ns, fantails, pip't,
frpgmouch. wood swallow, quail, parrots,
lyro bird, cuckoo, and other natives, for
every one is an Australian. _ In each case a
short description is given with the picture,
the value of the book being thus greatly en-
hanced.
"The Old Country.*' By Henry Newbolt. Lon-
don: Macmillan & Co.
Mr. Newbolt's aim is to show that'our
forefathers were really rational beings, and
not men whose blasphemies, crue ties, anti
indecencies are of a kind that would now-
adays qualify any one guilty of them "for
solitary confinement of one kind or an-
other." Until he meets the beautiful Au-
brey 'Eamshaw, Stephen Blumer, has given
his mind wholly and solely to the .contem
p.ation of the future of the race. The past
he has held in contempt. But in Aubrey's
eyes the past is something "august," and
she is able to impart to her lover her own
powers of vision, so that he no longer
thinks the Middle Ages "done with," and
feudalism "forgotten." The picturesque
may be obsolete. It always is. Bui the
love of sport and war, the religious îegard
for the weaker-that is more' alive than
ever.
By some magical process thal need not
be explained, Buhner finds hirfiself ha the
fourteenth century, in a world of strenu-
ous slrife, among men like himself, busy
with problems, affairs of State, or the mar-
ket. The famous John Grandison, Bishop
of Exeter, is among the characters to whom
we are introduced. Opposed to him is a
'rebellious and heretical clerk, one Ralph
Xremur, with whom Bu.mer is impelled by
.tis natural Radicalism to take sides,
though they haVe their differences, due
to the disparities of the centuries. Mr/
Newbolt has studied the medioval period
clcsely, and has quite succeeded in "recreat-
ing*' its atmosphere. As an exponent of the
Imperialist School, the author is convinced
that he does a public service by popularising
history through the medium of fiction.
Whether cr not he has succeeded in this
effort he has certainly written an interest-
ing story. He can be as graphic and pic-
turesque as the best of war correspondents.
Tlie narrative of the battle of Poitiers is
really a brilliant piece of work.
"Miss Desmond." By Marie van Vorst. Lon-
don: William Heinemann.
Robert Bedford, an erstwhile cavalier of
her mother's, had only flirted with pretty
Molly Struthers till a motor accident ren-
dered her an invalid for life. He had, till
then, preferred her youthful aunt, Miss
Desmond, a fascinating lady with a turn
for Puritanism. Still, he was in honor
committed to Molly, and if at any time it
had been possible to back out of the en-
gagement that time he feels is past. He
cannot, in honor, abandon Molly after her
accident. Miss Desmond, though her own
regard for Bedford is overwhelming, has a
nature too fine to allow of her being a
party to anything that would aggravate
poor Molly's suffering. Not only does she
stand aside; she pleads for Molly, from
whom she keeps the secret of her under-
standing with- Bedford. ' ' The latter mar-
ries Molly, and his devotion to her is some-
thing wonderful, and she adores him. But
Molly was not destined very long to sur-
vive her accident, and as soon as her death
makes him a free man Bedford hurries to
Virginia Desmond, who has had his heart
all along. He had for three years given to
his dead wife the only happiness"; she had
ever knownj and he goes to Virginia Des-
mond for his reward, which is yielded un-
grudgingly. Once he had married for an-
other's pleasure. Now he marries for his
own. This graceful story is worthy ot
the author of ^'Amanda of the Mill."
I_TERARY NOTES.
Miss Braddon.
Miss Braddon's seventieth birthday,
which was celebrated recently, reminds one
of the immense amount of entertainment
that that fertile novelist has given to the
world. The "railway novel," as Miss Brad-
don's work may fitly be called, is not, per-
haps, a very lofty form of literary art.
But those who know, with Macaulay, the
solace that is to be derived from a story
which propounds no problems—in the
modern sense of the word—may agree to
ask, with Mr. Andrew Lang—
Oh, novel readers, tell me this.
Can prose that's polished by the file,
Like great Boisgobey's mysteries.
Wet days and weary ways beguile,
And man to living reconcile,
Like these whose very trick we know?
The agony how high they pile,
Miss Braddon and Gaboriau.
Stevenson has somewhere told us that two
or three of Miss Braddon's novels form part
of the scanty library of every beach-
comber and trading schooner, and that
"Aurora Floyd," in particular, has pene-
trated to every island of the Pacific. That
is no small achievement, even in this age
of literary booms. It is difficult to rea-
lise that when Miss Braddon first made her
reputation, in the mid-Victorian days, the
was regarded as an immoral writer, and her
"yellow-backs" could only be devoured by
the young in a fearful seclusion.
"Success in Literature."
A number of representative men and women
of letters give, in the November "Grand
Magazine," their views as to the qualities
most conducive to success in literature. Miss
Braddon writes:-"Much depends upon the
kind of success aimed at. For an immedi-
ate money-making success, opportunism,
the power to see what the great mass of
readers likes best at the moment-the taste
of the passing hour-is the quality most
needed. For a worthier kind of success
the triumph of art for art's sake—I should
say three things are 'indicated'—a quiet
life "far from the madding crowd," wide
reading, and indomitable perseverance."
Mr. Quiller-Couch says he does not know
what is meant by "success n literature."
"But," he adds, "good books are only, writ-
ten by those who start with ability and im-
prove it by taking pains." The following,
recipe for success in fiction is supplied by
Mr. Horace Annesley Vachell:-"Take a
ton of imagination; add a few ounces of
brains: color with sympathy; salt with
humor;' dilute with tears; boil down to
what cook calls a glaze. Weigh the whole
and add equal quantities of luck and pluck.
Serve fresh and piping hot to British pub-
lic." Mr. R. S. Hichens declares the secret
of success in literature to be "Imagination,
sympathy with and understanding of
humanity; perseverance, sincerity, and fear-
lessness." Many other well-known writers
give their opinions on the same subject.
The Christmas number of "Faulding's
Medical and Home Journal" contains, as
supplements, a colored picture entitled
"The Minuet " and photographic reproduc-
tions of H. J. Johnstones "Off the Track"
and "A Billabong on the Goulburn River,
Victoria." The photo. iflustrations of
scenery are admirable, notably a view of
Emu Creek, Armidale. The letterpress,
which includes a mass of inst-ictive
articles, helps to sustain the reputation
so deservedly earned by this popular
monthly.
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