Evening Star Newspaper, February 14, 1932, Page 87

ABRAHAM LINCOLN: A new Portrait. By Emanuel Hertz, A. M., LL. D. Foreword by Nicholas Murray Butler. Illustrated. New 2 Horace Liveright. York RESH material discovered,” “lost l I documents found,” ‘“‘hidden manu- scripts brought to light.” Such for the past few years has been the clamor of research man, of writer and publisher. A catchy eall, this, in the beginning, cannily directed straight upon general curiosity, that greedy and devourng common passion for something new and different and exciting. Gradually the slogans lost much of their power. More than likely, these promises to pay so far outran fulfillment as to breed disappointment, re- sentment, indifference. Whatever the cause, certainly a coolness sprang up between readers and these expansive literary grave-diggers, these ghosts of secret archives. Right here comes evidence not only of com- plete solvency, but of a very competent good faith as well. Dr. Emanuel Hertz is a true investigator and a thoroughgoing collector of literary stuff both new and not so new. His field, the life of Abraham Lincoln. To it from the four quarters and from every sort of abid- ing place, both secret and open, he has drawn forgotten speeches, proclamations, letters, mili- tary orders, scrawls of memoranda, blurred receipts—an enormous whatnot of record from the hand of Abraham Lincoln, citizen, legal adviser, legislator, President, military com- mander. Friend and adviser of the lowly and troubled ones, as well as leader of national events. Well toward 4.000 of these documents Dr. Hertz credits to his labor of research. It is from this opulent field that the author constructs and creates the two big volumes in hand. More than 1.000 new papers come inte this, his latest work. For convenience and economy of effort, the study separates into two parts. The second one, a Trepository of first-hand material, straight from Lincoln himself. More than 400 pages of this. The first volume stands as a series of pictures, of high moments, of crucial hours, of despair pushed aside by hope, of momentous deci- sions in their reactions and repercussions. The first volume is the devoted reader's book. The second one is clearly a priceless source book for students of biographic history, for the deeper delvers into man’'s effect upon his im- mediate day, a man's influence upon the changing and changed times that are to come. While the second v:olume is an inestimably rich lode, the first one clearly passes beyond interpretation and becomes creation. In a painstaking, almost inconceivable way Dr. Hertz resets back into the body and mind and soul of Abraham Lincoln each of the moements, each of the activities and emotions, the hopes and plans and failures and fresh beginnings of this man, who first of all held to the sacredness of the Union, and then, out of his deep humanity revolted against an en- slaved people. From such devotion on the part of this author Lincoln himself stands alive and ever-living before us. Within the short term since his death Lincoln had al- ready become a legend, so great and swift are the successions and forgettings of today. And thc legend, as legends have ever done, clung to a foundation of truth upon which embroideries of fancy and imagination are laid. And in this inspired re-creation of Lincoln out of the sterling stuff of him- self the whole man stands inviolate. The great soul. The simple man. Unpretentious, deep-feeling, far-seeing, courageous. Much has been made of the ugliness of “Abe Lincoln,” of uncouth manners, of basic ignorance, of questionable speech, of his tragic misfit at the head of a distraught nation. All superficialities, these. of no real account, pleasing only to superficial minds, or to minds upon which the healing offices of time have not yet achieved their best. But even such feelings are fading. Steadily through the years, years that test and try men ruthlessly, Abraham Lincoln is mounting higher in the world’s tribunal of human evaluations, of a world’s ultimate judgment. It is not possible to leave this great work without a word of personal delight over the manner of it. Over its way with words and phrases. Simple, but lofty in mood, the pages sing in high eloguence, and in measured ca- dences give evidence of the genuine greatness of Abraham Lincoln, the liberator. SET MY PEOPLE FREE: A Negro's Life of Lincoln. By William E. Lilly. New York: Parrar & Rinehart. title gives to this history of Abraham Lincoln its distinct call for atiention, as it suggests also something of the spirit of the work itself. For a Negro to write the story of Lincoln is as unique as it is fitting. An act of homage to the great liberator who “set my people free.” The familiar story is retold by this author with no reach toward newnes of effect, toward fresh theories concerning the character of Lincoln nor toward reinterpretations of the period in which he lived and of the years that have followed. Not upon such things does “Set My People Pree” depend for its searching and impressive quality. This derives from the attitude of Mr. Lilly before the work in hand. An attitude so single and sincere, yet so truly dramatic withal, that, reading, one sees the Emancipator himself and around him is a host of dark-skinned men and women who have in less than 70 years been re-created into a new people, taking responsible part under a Gov- ernment that demands self-control and self- direction from all living under its protection and advantages. Almost every city has its Negro community. Working men and women, professionals also in law and medicine, in teaching and preaching. Talent is here, some- times genius in music, peinting, acting, writing. We have grown accustomed to the Negro as an important element of American life. S0 we are likely to forget the astonishing advance THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, FE_BRUARY 14, 1932, e The Nezvest Collection of Material on the Life of Abraham Lincoln—A Negro’s Lifeof the Civil War President—Some 11 orth- While Fiction. “0 Captain! My Captain! Rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—jor you the bugle trills. For wou bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning, Hear Captain! Dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.” of these people in all the lines which the white man counts as essential to modern ways and to the common sense of collective obligation. Without words directly leading to these facts of Negro life as it is today, the reality of it is clearly a part of this study. Abraham Lin- ~oln becomes here obviously and pointedly the one to whom this writer, in the name of all his race, pays homage. The man of far vision and high courage both in respect to the well- being of the country he loved and in respect also to the true quality of freedom of which that country gave open promise and upon which it was itself founded. “Set My People Free” is a strikingly impressive story. And in equal measure it is a distinctly valuable one. THE INSIDE STORY OF THE HARDING TRAGEDY. By Harry M. Daugherty, At- torney General, United States, 1921-1924. In collaboration with Thomas Dixon. New York: The Churchill Co. R. DAUGHERTY'S book, “The Inside Story of the Harding Tragedy,” covers the pe- riod included between the nomination of Sen- ator Harding as President of the United States and the death of President Harding while hold- ing that office. Out of the close friendship of more than a third of a century this author lays claim to authority on the subject. Hardly a point of dispute can issue from that claim. To such personal acquaintance are added years of sturdy co-operation in the politics of the Re- publican party, both State and national. Again, as President on the one hand and cabinet officer on the other, the two were in the closest of official bonds. So much for the substance of Mr. Daugherty’s preparation for the work in hand and for its basic character as well. The period was that of war time and the immediate years following that event. The public mind was a greately agitated mind. War measures had been carried out in the United States on a tremendous scale. Vast expendi- {ures. Enormous debts. Uncertainty and fear, sourcing many a measure not adequately con- sidered and therefore unwise in ultimate pos- sibility. Apprehension and excitement close to national hysteria itself were the order of that time. Recriminations and accusations of this and that flew hither and yon. And, in the great confusion there was much of error and ignorance, much of positive evildoing. To shift blame appears to be a human instinct. Still, to clamor for the ancient tribal scapegoat upon which to unload the sins of the people is by no means an outmoded custom. So much, in conservative claim, for the state of public thought and feeling at this point in our na- tional affairs. - Blame, vituperation, scant honor and full condemnation of every sort fell directly, or in- directly, upon the dead President—upen War- —Walt Whitman. ren G. Harding. the second President of the United States to become a casualty of the World War. And here is Mr. Daugherty's story. Not yet, however. Not quite yet. Just a moment for that most important point, the mind of the reader. There be those, you know. who, “con- vinced against their will are of the same opin- ion still.” Now for the story. The story of Warren Harding and not of another, mor of others. What is the purpose of this accounting? Clearly, and above any other intent whatever, it is a friend's service to a friend, an ab- sentee friend powerless in his own behalf. While ite of necessity, involves others, it is in bulk a one-man story. While it partakes, naturally, of the general conditions surround- ing it, it uses these, properly, as background, not seeking to allocate to President Harding alone the full burden of national opinion and action. Again, while seeming here and there to shift the emphasis away from the central theme, it holds, in the main. to a straight and remarkably uncomplicated record of the man in his time of trial. This is not a court of law, mind you, calling for documents and case references. We.do not try dead men, literally. Not any more. _ A straight, rugged accounting. - Something of the direct business man in its course and effect. There are no important asides for drawing in matters irrelevant to the purpose of_this recital. Very little of rancor upon the whole. Instead it is the man. Warren Hard- ing, who engages the attention of this writer in what seems to be an honest effort to scrape off some of the muck that clings to the dead President by way, in large part, of the period of his administration in its temporarily ab- normal state, by way. also, of Mr. Harding's basic simplicity, and by way of the increasingly calamitous character of high public office to the holders thereof. By the large and in the main, Mr. Daugherty’s story is a refreshment and an encouragement through its generally frank and vigorous por- trayal of the friend in whom he has faith, Warren Harding. HONEYFLOW. By Ben Ames Williams, au- thor of “All the Brothers Were Valiant,” etc. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co. HE romance of Sophie Randle. At the start, a foundling.. Toward the end. a genius of song for the world to praise. At the very end, a deserted woman. There is another set of chapters beyond “The End.” There must be. Sophie Randle is not of the stuff that crumples. The climax of this romance is a bit of stark realism. Up to that point and in skimming outline, however, its effect is that of the fairy tale of Cinderella design. But this is pre- cisely what it is not. On the contrary, it is the study of a modern stoic. A stoic bent in upon herself with absorbing engrossment, tak- ing what comes of good or ill merely as hand- grip or toe-hold for the next lift toward her goal. Oh, the pi-turc of a selfish woman? Not at all. Coertainly the tdle has nothing to do with the fiddling scifishness all around us, even within us. This girl's every cell is a self-cell, striving for its own growth, for its own fulfillment. Ngo. certainiy not. The girl kncw® nothing of i is, nothing of body-cells and soul-sells. Sophie is simply in the hands of her own god of lfe. suc-essful life. As a foundling, the Yitile girl is just a silent and compliant child. As <hz passes out of the home and change: cor ties are made. To move forward each t broken in cool un~ mindfulness. For Soph on her way. When the use of men is nce '2d for expanding op= portunities, she m-'es use of men. Sophie Randle is on her way. And, finally, a great singer issues from the long journey ahead, always ahead. A r-man’ic and readable in- vention that through-ut scunds plausible and true. Especially plausible and true in that last episode wh~n ge.'us trades itself off for youth and love. A faial transaction ever, Yet, not for Sophie one is sure. That is why more chapters beyond “The End” are needed. This is, h-wever, but a part of the whole matter. Mayb2 even the lecser part, fascinat- ing though it be os ron. nce itself. The really high distin~tion of is vel derives from the keen scent tenacity of Ben Ames Williams soul of this girl as, seemingly un ste follows that urgent inner ) 1 the is so wholly compact. A fins nux A surpassing psy- choelogical stuav n - two do not often vincingly do in of a fine work of fiction is a vai pleasure. Here is a clear chance for t common adventure in reading that s es and delights. THE SWEEPSTAKDS MURDERS. By J. J Connington, author of “Mystery at Lynden Sands.” etc. Bocten: Litude, Brown & Co. HEY agreed, upon the death of one of the lucky nine, t living members of the sweepstakes partner:l iich they had formed should profit bv any winnings that might accrue from this sporting event. A decision calculated to head off legal action in case of demise. The plan was to reapportion the prize among remain members. A truly sinister latency lav vi iin this plan—but these were all honora men. not even re- motely likely to enco temptation along this particular way. of them, tramp- ing alone in a camera t upon a certain day, fell to his death over a steep cliff. Not long after another was killed when his car skidded upon a wet road in a dark night. And in no very long time another tragic ending—— Well, high time to lock around for the direce tor of this system of elimination for the pur- pose of an increased inheritance. And here begins an ingenious and clever man hunt which serves. finally, not only to discover the criminal. but to uncover, as well, certain weak- nesses of evidence that is generally considered unassailable. For instanZe, an alibi is neo proof of innocence, provided the criminal be clever enough and inventive enough. ®Again, the photograph is no infallible recorder of fact. Here it proved to be a clever Ananias of misleading. Once more, the expert on hand writing and type writing turns out to be no expert at all. A piain dupe, instead. Intere esting and so plausibly convincing that one, under the spell of the story and accounting, envisages crime triumphant in its wickedness and with no slightest fear of circumvention by the law and its agents. Ome works with this adventure. Grows keen over its problems. Good deep problems that do not open out 10, ..’ a casual attention. The reader, along with the detectives and crime specialists, must work as they do over the intricacies of this puzzling course in systematic manslaughter, A skilful and admirable invention whioh, among its other attractions, concedes some= thing of mind power to the reader himeelf, EAST OF SINGAPORE. By Sydney M. Parkw man. Philadelphia: Macrae-Smith Co. WRITER must feel pretty sure of himself to set off under such lure of title as this novel carries. Well, let us see about it. A long way off, and not much known to the coms manalty of busy homefolks, Singapore ig opulent in mystery, strange peoples and ways, adventures of exotic cast. A place of une believable things, yet all of them believable by virtue of our daily need for miracle in a tedi= ously authentic world. Let us see what Sydney Parkman does for us by way of Singapore, and East. He picks out an island. a pearl island, so counted, belonging to France. But France is far away. The lure of treasure is as demand- ing as is the need for daily bread. More than one ship of tramp-like physiognomy and furtive bearing had been seen many a time not so far away from this island of promise. Just one of these concerns us. A yacht, the Peregrine. Its master, one Boris Slavensky. Its crew, a motley gathered hit or miss off the docks of Singapore and otherwhere roundabout. Jimmy Carfax among them. A decent fellow, out of work, far from home, not so much of a sailor as he might have been. But Jimmy served. That is what he is there for, OR, yes, Continued on Sirteenth Page BUY OR RENT NEW BOOKS at WOMRATH’S 1319 F St. N.W. 3107 14th St. N.W., }pe Bartlett, 1347 Conn. Ave. N.W. Used Books at Remarkable Reductions