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closing where much Would you know how first he met

her ? against his own will, be it said -he finally “steers for the

She was cutting bread-and-butter. Sunset.” The only redeem- Charlotte was a married lady, ing character in the book is And a moral man was Werther, brave old Mrs Gano, a mother And, for all the wealth of Indies, worthy of a Gracchus, and all

Would do nothing for to hurt her. too tolerant of her own miser

So he sighed and pined and ogled, able brood. “ You walk in

And his passion boiled and bubbled, darkness," said the old woman

Till he blew his silly brains out, on her deathbed. “ Not the

And no more was by it troubled. fear of God—that's tonic—but

Charlotte, having seen his body in the fear of pain. Oh, I've Borne before her on a shutter, watched this phase of modern Like a well-conducted person, life. It's been coming, coming

Went on cutting bread-and-butter.” for years. The world to-day is crushed and whining under a

We are bound to say, however, load of sentimentality. People that recent fiction also offers us presently will be afraid to move, several excellent antidotes for lest they do or receive some this nauseating stuff, and we hurt.” The vigorous excellence deemed ourselves fortunate when shown in the drawing of this chance made us acquainted with character leaves a loophole of the tenth edition of the story of escape for C. E. Raimond, in 'Isabel Carnaby '—a most vivathat it sometimes raises a doubt cious and entertaining book. It whether we are to read her con- has all the charm, if all the faults, trariwise, and regard the book of youth, and we gladly forgive as a satire of decadence. But a conventional plot for so much this is only a charitable and for- sprightly dialogue. Miss Fowlorn hope; and if it be correct, itler — to use the latest Fleet but serves to show that she has Street jargon-has “arrived," handled deadly weapons which and “should go far”; but we she cannot use without would respectfully suggest that dangering the public safety. she would go still farther were There is only one natural in- she to cease to use “like for terpretation of her book, and it “as," and were she to add to is fraught with the poisonous the many "excellencies” of her air of a hothouse philosophy. work the purely masculine vir

Thackeray, we stake the re- tue of correct spelling. Some putation of 'Maga' on it, knew of the same magic of youth a great deal more about the which gives its perennial charm humour and the tragedy of hu- to “Mona Maclean’ has disman life than C. E. Raimond; appeared from Graham Traand to all poor souls who have vers's 'Windyhaugh’; but we read The Open Question' we are fully recompensed by an would commend his summary infinitely more matured skill, a of problem fiction as a sovereign more subtle humour, a proantidote :

founder insight into life. There “ Werther had a love for Charlotte

is perhaps enough and to spare Such as words could never utter; of psychology in Dr Todd's



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remarkable book, but it is all been achieved by Mr Alfred of the right kind; and there is Ollivant, who has contrived to not in English fiction a more make a most absorbing story careful and penetrating analysis out of but three characters, of the evolution of a woman's two of them being sheep-dogs mind than is given in Wilhel- and the other an irascible little mina Galbraith. But “Windy Scotsman. We are not surhaugh’ is not a book in which prised to see that Mr Ollivant there is only one "star” and a has also been duly told that he

“ crowd of “supers." Every will “ go far,” for we are almost character is limned with the ready to go the length of saying conscientious care that bespeaks that in Owd Bob' he has the true artist, and the analyt- already“ been and gone and ical interest of the novel is done it.” Red Wull and Owd rigorously kept in its proper Bob are the best dogs on paper, place as only one element in a and we honestly prefer them delightful story. It is a

to most of their human conpremely interesting and whole- temporaries in fiction. some book, and in an age when have a fault to find, it is that excellence of technique has Mr Ollivant, like Landseer, dereached remarkable level, bases his dogs by making them

Windyhaugh' compels ad- too human for an ordinary miration for its brilliancy of kennel; and we should have style.

liked Owd Bob all the better Dr Todd paints on a large had he been less circumspect canvas, but she has a true sense and gentlemanly in his walk of proportion the want of and conversation in life. None which alone prevents Mr Eden the less, the death of Red Wull Philpott's Children of the Mist'is Homeric. ‘

. from being one of the finest The year of grace 1898 will novels of its year. The roman- stand out prominently in the tic atmosphere he has and all literary history of Poor Jack. the literary endowment, but he Once more the spirit of the age has smothered a brilliant novel has found literary expression, , under a plethora of detail. As and the result is a whole revolvcompared with either of these, ing bookcaseful of literature, Miss May Sinclair is a minia- highly charged with the spirit turist; but it would be difficult of Imperialism. Taking it all to praise too highly her bril- in all, the literature is worthy liantly clean-cut portraiture, of the sentiment. The keynote and her bold and successful is struck on “Drake's Drum,” a handling of unattractive magnificent song by Mr Henry subject, in “Mr and Mrs Nevill Newbolt, which will ensure him Tyson. The story is a little a place in all future masterpiece, and the literary thologies side by side with epicure will find a rich feast in Thomas Campbell.

The its gracefully easy and pungent- Fighting Temeraire” and “The ly witty style. But of all the Ballad of the Bold Menelaus" literary feats of the year one of are only a degree less successthe most remarkable has surely ful, and throughout all three


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there runs a haunting rhythm foreseen contingencies at all that will swing them worthily times." Mr Bowles is obviinto immortality. Mr Newbolt ously a youthful and enthusimay surely be content, and we astic understudy of Mr Kipare sorry to find him flogging ling, and he strikes no new and spurring his jaded muse. note; but his descriptions are Only once or twice in a lifetime always naïvely entertaining, as can he hope to reach so high a his imitations are often clever. mark, and he imperils his own Mr Shannon, also, is an imireputation by presenting—ay, tator; but more than one of his and representing - his

yarns is almost worthy of Mr doubted masterpieces in a set- Jacobs, and we can pay him no ting of uninspired and un- higher compliment. Very difworthy doggerel. With a com- ferent is the story which Mr manding rhythm Mr Newbolt Harry Vandervell has to record can always be the Kipling of in his unique 'Shuttle of an the Fleet: without one, he is no Empire's Loom.' The “ liner better than a poetaster. Mr she's a lady” we know on Mr Kipling's own contribution to Kipling's authority, and by naval literature, “A Fleet in the same reckoning the man-o'Being," is not likely to add to war's a gentleman; but it was his reputation - although it on neither of these, but on a might easily make one for a common vagabond of a cargolesser name.

In a word, it is boat, that Mr Vandervell, shaknot quite the sort of thing that, ing the dust of the Stock Exlike Mr Steevens's tour de force, change off his feet, elected to has recently on two occasions take his pleasure seriously by “ brought the blood to the signing on as a man before the cheek” of the Spectator.' And mast. As we have said, the yet nobody but Mr Kipling record is unique, and it reflects could have written it, and we equal credit on Mr Vandervell's gladly confess that its perusal sense of humour and on the left us so full of pride in our sterling good qualities of our first line of defence that we felt common sailors that the story

for the moment a perfect is as entertaining as it is. The readiness to submit to a doub- 'Shuttle of an Empire's Loom'

a ling of the income-tax. And has every claim to be called a that is surely fame!

“human document," and it is Mr G. Stewart Bowles and calculated to reassure those Mr W. F. Shannon describe who delight to paint our merrespectively the humours of chant service blacker than it is. the “gun-room” and the “ The British tar, whether he deck," and between them we feel be taken from the “Queen's that we have learned all that Navee” a common cargois worth knowing of what Lord boat, has at least two points in Charles calls “the many-sided common-unfailing pluck and life of a seaman, with its chance indomitable good-humour. and charm, its hardships, its It is the humorous side of occasional pleasures and pas- sea-life alone that Mr Jacobs times, and its dangers and un- depicts, but within his limits

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he has no equal. Mr Gilbert's fifty octavo


eleven test of humour, if we remem- pages for every year of an ber rightly, was its capacity uneventful life. This, we subto make

a prisoner smile. mit, is monstrous ; and the We applied a severer test by value of the author's contributaking up "Many Cargoes tions to philosophy cannot for in a dyspeptic moment, and a moment excuse so flagrant we gladly testify that as a a literary indiscretion as is universal remedy for depres- afforded in 'My Inner Life.' sion it is worth a guinea a We have the less hesitation page. • The Skipper's Wooing' in using it to point our moral, was no less successful, although as we have Dr Crozier's assurits humour had broadened into ance that he has learned to farce, and it was with some treat the “dæmonic element” disappointment that we found –i.e., the apathy of publishers ourselves reading 'Sea Urchins' and public and the insolence of unmoved. But we took the reviewers—with “the indifferbest available remedy by read- ence or contempt it deserves," ing “Many Cargoes' again, and, an affectation that is neither thanks to this admirable book, impressive nor new. we who started on our quest of It takes more than two hunthe humorous with such dismal dred crowded pages to describe forebodings, have ended it like the evolution of Dr Crozier's the Yorkshireman by “larfing, mind up to the age of twenty, and larfing, and larfing again.' and half as much again to re

Melancholy men, according count his literary misfortunes, to Aristotle, of all others are which we may say at once premost witty, and could sent no deviation from the wish that the paradox were as beaten track of literary experitrue as it is comforting. But ence save in the immeasurable it would be unpardonable, even

conceit of their telling—a conat a push, to extract a grain of ceit so colossal that it would comfort by simply converting need the fountain-pen of a Hall an Aristotelian generalisation ; Caine adequately to paint it. and we would rather seek an “I have often thought,” says explanation for the prevailing Dr Crozier, “that had Carlyle, dearth of humour in the fact Ruskin, Macaulay, Buckle, Mill, that the average writer of to- Lecky, Spencer, Morley, or day possesses what Mr Andrew Arnold started publishing their Lang—in happy English and literary work to - day, they quite unnecessary French—has would have been practically igtermed “the adorable faculty nored”—like Dr Crozier, that of taking himself au sérieux. is to say; for with unusual A singularly brilliant example modesty he leaves it to the of this faculty has been given reader to supply the omission to the world recently by Dr J. in this ingenious chain of B. Crozier, who has made a reasoning. Deprecating, with gallant attempt to establish an a naïveté worthy of genius, “the autobiographical record in a imputation of taking myself volume of five hundred and too seriously,” the author gives


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a detailed account of how he the vice, I gave up the task vainly assailed the leading as hopeless, and awaited a magazines with a short “Solu- more propitious day.” We tion of the World-problem” in shall be glad if we may in an essay of twenty pages (a beg- some degree hasten the advent garly allowance, truly, in light of that propitious day, and we of the five hundred and fifty de- forgive much in My Inner voted to the Evolution of the Life' on account of the crownMind of Dr Crozier !), and how ing horror which Dr Crozier he was invariably worsted by has spared us. “ In what the “dæmonic element.” Then other form," he asks, “than

“ he bearded Carlyle, and found the autobiographical could I him “querulous, cantankerous, present my ideas unless indeed and altogether too critical and as a Novel, in which, however, exacting for ordinary human- for want of space, justice could ity"_too critical even for Dr only be done to a small division Crozier, for the dyspeptic and of the subject." sorely tried sage, parodying

It is with a distinct feeling Jeffrey, closured our author's of relief that we turn from the autobiographical confidences vainest of mortals to the greatwith a brusque “Na, na, that est and most inscrutable imwinna do.”

mortal. While Dr Crozier And Carlyle was not the “abides [nay, anticipates] our only victim of Dr Crozier's question," our Shakespeare still attentions. We confess that " is free

out -topping we have seldom read anything knowledge”—even the knowwith more amusement than the ledge possessed by Mr Sidney story of his amiable persecu- Lee. Were Maga' to “crown tion of authors, friends, and the best book of the past year, editors; and had there been she would not hesitate to select only a little more of such sack Mr Lee's “Life of William and a less intolerable deal of Shakespeare.' This masterly stale bread, we could have work is an honour to English found it possible to speak of scholarship, an almost perfect this stately volume with en- model of its kind, and it is thusiasm. The keynote of Dr matter for great national reCrozier's mental life, if we joicing that the standard life mistake not, is struck very of Shakespeare has at last been early in the volume, where “made in England.” Rarely he confesses that he once have we seen a book so wholly made “a serious attempt to satisfying, so admirably planned, subjugate the vanity and con- so skilfully executed. Mr Lee ceit which were now at their makes no attempt to offer us flowering - time with me, and æsthetic criticism, and in this which I already felt to be lies the great excellence of his reptiles throwing a trail of plan, for we have hitherto had slime and baseness over all enough and to spare of “imag

“ of good that I thought or did; inative insight” and all too little

but after several in- of accurate and well - digested effectual attempts to eradicate facts. Accordingly, it is im

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