The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 30, 1904, Page 7

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. Unpublished ThacKeray Letters cherish an abiding Thackeray, the novel- the man, will give a welcome to a volume of e g writer's correspondence, er published, which has Just n out by the Century Thackeray's Letters to an Family” it is called. For hese half a hundred letters, ts of the novelist ing up to the time have been jealous- family of George k, to the different 1 they were address- are now added to the al- of Thackerayiana. ection is a brief in- y Miss Lucy D. Bax- of the letters are The; h the manner of ice meeting between Mr. Bax- 7 and Thackeray s set nd of intimate anecdote the subsequent delightful between them related. Thackeray’s correspondence, is voluminous, no part of it is a reflection of the inner soul of the man than this. In thesé gossipy epistles, some serious, most of them B and brimming with the cheerful exuberance of the man, the genial Pendennis has given full sway to his imate thoughts. The whole- love of the man for his chil- his mother and his friends revealed His convictions on obery of the social world, so delivered in his works, e in his communings His opinions on mates of contem- both in literature and state- s own ethical code of right h of these close and per- in the life and thought voice themselves through words. Besides all this own some se frien his es ies th is given us still more of the in- fooling that characterizes keray’s light correspondence. rned on a word, or the hold- self up to derisive ridicule by rrespondents, make whimsical throughout the entire volume of Thackeray first came to this country 1852, his course being on wn “English Humorists.” he was well received, even lion- te. on this side of the rs bear additional evi- other correspondence. g of dollars at the ex- fort, even of self-pride in was thoroughly dis- novelist. e med and disgusted f my nostrums daily,” writes Thacke- from Boston: and again, “But he r) is growing so mortally sick ss that you may hear of g work eny day. I have been hese lectures four times as ney as they honestly deserve.” This gerund grinding before literary clubs had, however, its object dear to the man who so thoroughly detested it. he speaks of the “dollars g or the “sack heaping up,” it , th an avarice sweetened by the aim in view. It is always “for my girls at home” that this money, gained at such distasteful effort, came to the suthor’s pocket. Through all of the letters there runs a tender allusion to the writer's family, their needs, and it is ever the devotion of the man to the duty of supplying these needs that im- presses itself unconsciously. What did Thackeray think of Amer- fca? He has answered that question before in public and private corre- spondence, In these Baxter letters he reiterates his admiration for America and the Americans through specific allusions. “I hope, please God,” writes Thacke- ray after his first visit here, “that the Jove and friendehip I have had in your family may even go so far as to do some public benefit—the remembrance of you all sanctifies your country in my eyes. When people speak here sneeringly, as Londoners will talk, I break eut in- dignantly and tell them how much good and worth and love and good- breeding there is In the country of which they talk so flippantly. And I pray heaven it may be my chance, as it will be my endeavor, to be & peace- maker between us and you and to speak good will toward you.” Again in reference to the misconcep- tion prevalent in America as to his estimate of Washington, revealed In “The Virginians,” Thackeray declares: “Can't we find any plan of healing that absurd ‘Mr. Washington’ feud? I feel myself shocked and pained by it as if some dear friend had turned round to abuse me; I who for once in my life kept my own counsel; who have got to consider yours as my country almost; who have praised the States so outrageously since I came home, and made myself such a violent partisan. How dare people think I could be guilty of such stupid abuse as they at- tribute to me?” The noted Americans of the times whom Thackeray met elicit character- istic comment frem him. Of George William Curtis’ work in “Nile Notes™ he says: “The book is capital—too luscious to read much of at & time.” Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, whom Thackeray met in Boston, was “a dear little fellow, a true poet. I told him,” continues the writer, “how much I liked his verses and what do you think he did? His eyes began to water.” 'Of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, whom chance brought 10 his acquaintance in London, he says: “In place of the woman I had imagined to mvself after the hideous daguerreo- type. T found a gentle, almost pretty person, with a very great sweetness in her eyes and smile. I am sure she must be good and truth teliing from her face and behavior.” Franklin Pierce, President elect during Thack- eray's stay in Washington, February, 1853, impressed the novelist as “a man Quips t g of the el v ater génge to that Buf this gete pense of co I get of remarkably good presence and fine manners.” Thackery would not be Thackeray did he not hold ever at tilt a keen shaft of satire against “yellow plush” snob- bery and the affectations of soclety. Even in these letters to his intimates the great man of letters must have a fiing or two at his favorite scapegoat. From gay Paris, where he met the in- evitable tourist, both of English and American breed, Thackeray writes: “From a twaddling society what can you have but twaddling? It is hard that there should be something nar- rewing about man or circumstances. The misdeeds of maids-of-all-work form no small part of the little conver- sations I hear.” In another instance he mounts the pulpit and inveighs tremendously against the clean uncleanness of Lon- don soclety. Hear him—Thackeray evefy bit of it! “B— 1is spoiled by the heartlessness of London—which is awful to think of —the most Godless respectable-thing— thing’s not the word, but I can’t get it—I mean that world is base and pros- perous and content, not unkind—very well bred—very unaffected in manner, not dissolute—clean in person and rai- ment and going to church every Sun- day—but in the eyes of the Great Judge of right and wrong what rank will those people have with all their fine manners and spotless characters and linen? They never feel love, but direct- ly it's born they throttle it and fling it under the sewer as poor girls do their unlawful children — they make up money marriages and are content— then the father goes to the Houss of Commons or the counting house, the mother to her balls and visits—the chil- dren lurk upstairs withtheir governess, end when their turn comes are bought and sold, and respectable and heartless as their parents before them.” Thus could we continue to pick from this correspondence bits reflecting the very heart and soul of this strong man of the golden Victorian age of letters. But taken from their setting of drell wit, running commentary or enthusias- tic optimism these quotations lose some of their savor. They had best be read in the setting their author gave them —the reflection of his own loving heart, his own just judgment. (The Century Company, New York; {llustrated by some original Thackeray sketches; price $1 60.) ) PROBLEMS of Chiel_:._!‘.xecutive RESIDENTIAL PROBLEMS,” ex-President = Grover Cleve- land’s newly published book, is vnigue in the year’s output. Herein we have history written by one who was one of the chief formative factors lishing this book,” writes Mr. Cleve- land in a preface, “the fact has not been oveilooked that the push and ac- tivity of our people’s life lead them more often to the ~nticipation of new happenings than to a review of events which have already become a part of the nation’s history.”” But the ex- President is right in believing that be- neath this “there still exists a sedate and unimpaired interest in the things that illustrate the design, the traditions and the power of our Government.” The retrospective view he has given of four events of permanent influence on the trend of the nation's affairs, events of which his hand played a large part in the molding, certainly does have large interest to all that have an eye to contemporary affairs in the conduct of the Government. Cleveland has chosen for discussion incidents In 'his administration, the several developments of which had bearing upon the interpretation given tc the powers of the chief executive. His contest with the Senate over the Jndependence of. the executive in the removal of Federal officers, which had its inception immediately upon his ac- cession to the Presidential chair for the first term, touches upon a matter now nigh forgotten, but having sig- nificance on the relations between the two arms of the Government then in- volved. “The Government in the Chi- cago Strike of 1894” is in the nature of a vindication of Presidential action in causing the intervention of Federal troops for the enforcement of decfees of a Federal court and the insistence upon non-interference with the mails. The bond issues of the years '04, 08 and '96 are made the subjects of well ordered review by the writer, with the purpose of combating the charges brought against the administration at the time. Finally the bold defense of the Monroe doctrine against the pre- tensions of the Salisbury Ministry in the Venezuelan boundary question {is given an exhaustive summary. Unfortunately for the reviewer the nature of all of Mr. Cleveland’s articles save the last is such as to preclude extended comment. The province of this department of the paper does not admit of discussion upon things po- litical, and the contents of Cleveland’s book -are for the most part calculated to cause division of opinion on partisan lines. i Since the style of the writing is not open to judgment by political faith, however, it is permitted to draw at- tention to its excellencles. As clear, concise narrative, logically arranged and forcibly set forth, Mr. Cleveland’s prose Is high rank. In deallng with the abstruse subject of the bond issues and in detalling the complicated his- of the keen wit of the lawyer matter of orderly sequence phasis upon n.ucm. facts, His periodic sentences, balanced ’m., metric precision ot & a certain lo - to Impressionable girlhood—and they upon the course of certain phases in recent history, which may be read un- derstandingly and with profc by all. It may not carry conviction to all be- cause of the partisan character of some of the issues it embraces. (The Century Company, New York; price $1 50.) Azalea and Her Great Love WHEN the seasoned reader picks up from the holiday bookstand a volume which is blazoned with color within and without and glori- ously bedecked to catch the eye of the Christmas shopper, a reasonable doubt as to its real worth as reading matter instinctively arises within him. Occasionally these holiday books, boxed and colored, are good; as a rule they are very mediocre. Onoto Watanna's last story, “The Love of Azalea,” makes no departure from the rule, This little lady, who is pleased to write under a Japanese name and who has done some very pretty stories of Nippon, has yielded, it is to be feared, to that bane of all authors, popularity, and now she is simply retilling the fleld that brought her first successes. “A Japanese Nightingale” is a sweet story, strong in originality; “The Heart of Hyacinth” is no less a dainty plece of fiction; but in this latest story Miss ‘Watanna has trusted to its atmosphere to tide over painfully amateurish in- congruities of pi6t and her trust has falled her. No amount of cherry blos- som scent and lisping pigeon English can gloss over crudities In the tale’s building. “The Love of Azalea” has to do with the sudden affection that sprang up between a little Japaness girl and the youthful missionary of an isolated Christian parish: Seeking the church of the Christian first through the sordid promptings of a desire for possible galn, Azalea finds that the héart of the young preceptor is in his work of con- version to a degree quite acceptable are married. So far, the story carries & delicate little charm of its own, born of the amusing clash between the girl's native instincts and her efforts to bend her religious conceptions to Christian~ ity's teachings. But at this point the plot takes a painful turning. It seems that the young minister is forced to re- turn to the States. His Japanese wife refuses to leave the land of her na- tivity, insisting that her baby’'s eyes shall first be opened on chrysanthemum land and no other. So this scrupulous missionary answers the call of his hoard and goes alone. Of course persecytions follow. The girt has lost caste by becoming “Kirishitan” and a certain greedy wooer conspires to prevent her hearing from the husband across the water. Pride and co; ey unite to beggar the young wife mother and she becomes a wanderer. After suffering all sorts of lnd!‘luthl and physical Azalea is ed once more with who returns * wine is sion board so dead to all sense of pity as to refuse the plea for stay of exe- cution from the young missionary, had he asked it. But that exemplary laborer in the vineyard did not even ask. This rongh cog in the machinery, together with another which introduces a very theatrical, very Hall Caine like inci- dent for the conclusion of the story, give Onoto Watanna's book an unfor- tunate shopmade flavor. One cannot but believe that most of his purchase price is expended on the volume's illus- trations and decoration work — very artistic and Japanese. (Dodd, Mead & Co., New York; il- lustrated by Gazo Foudji; price $2.) A Farm UnderGrim Shadow TO take the quarrel of the Mon- tagues and the Capulets, advance it some centuries, set the story in bleak Dartmoor, rehabilitate the shades of Romeo and Julfet in the fleshly garments of a London poet and & country lass, introduce a little of the madness of Ophelia, 2 dash of Lear and cloge the whole with the stereo- typed tragic climax of the poisoned cup—to do this Eden Philipotts wrote his last story, “The Farm of the Dagger.” Moss-grown ruins somewhere under the shadow of a bleak “tor,” with gray wastes stretching from sea to horizon and a general air of eerie prevading all; this is the inspiration of inspira- tions for Mr. Phillpotts. It suggests a grisly story. It is heavy with dark significance. It breathes baleful fumes of prophecy such as steam from the witches’ pot on blasted heath. Once Mr. Phillpotts sniffs this fiction wraith of Dartmoor he is off again and soon another story of the downs swells the list of his writings. This last, “The Farm of the Dagger,” as in- timated in the foregoing, seems to be Shakespeare set to the Dart's proscen- ium. The plot is old as the everlasting hills, only the flies and drops are novel. A relentless feud exists between Farmer John Newcombe and Farmer Roger Honeywell. Farmer Newcombe's sweet daughter, Eve, falls desperately in love with Farmer Honeywell’s mooning nephew, Quinton, a very young poet. Of course, Farmer New- combe would rather slay his daugh- ter with his own hand than have her wed a Honeywell and Farmer Honey- well is confirmed in a like sanguinary resolve concerning his nephew. Re- sult is that the beautiful Hve is shut up behind iron bars on a diet of bread and ‘water and Quinton, the poet, smuggled on a ship bound for the American main to fight Yankees—the war of 3812 being in progress at the time. Wicked old Honeywell tells Eve that her lover is dead and she promptly attempts suicide, only to be saved in body, but with reason fled. Then this same old sly Honeywell mourns with his nephew over the lamented death of Eve, reported by him to his heir across the Atlantic, and the lover tries his best to get shot. Comes finally Farmer Newcombe with a foaming flagon of poisoned cider and both Honeywell and Newcombe leave the story in spasms. This is the reason why DTlIer Farm, to-day a bat-haunted ruin in the shadow of Bellaford Tor, is said to be a ghost walk and a place where the- mad are heard to gibber in the dark of the moon. This is why Mr. Phillpotts wrote “The Farm of the Dagger.” It will add nothing to Mr. Phillpotts’ reputation; it will detract from it nothing. This is just one of those neutral books that might better not have been written, may be, but being written, do no great harm. (Dodd, Mead & Co., New York; illustrated; price $1 50.) Betrayal of State’s Secrets HE reading of one of B. Phillivs Oppenheim’s stories is like a ride in a captive balloon—one does not come to earth until the cover is flapped down on the last page. Too many of these storles would be harmful to the nerves of literature, as too much May ‘to drag on the Intellect - selves ters giddy with too many heady pota- tions. A good plot, clever incident and swift movement are the elements which unite to bring Oppenheim’s stories be- yond the mark of mediocritv. The writer has the trick of luring the reader on from chapter to chapter just out of sheer curiosity, so telling is the denouement set forth in the very last paragrapks of each. A face pressed at the window, a blow struck out of the darkness, revelation of a plot trembling on the turn—these are the lures offered by each succeeding development of the plot, which set the reader to racing madly along as fast as the eye can do the mechanical work of deciphering type. Breathless suspension of inter- est by a careful restraint in the narra- tion of the tale works wonders. “The Betrayal” is shrouded with mystery, plot and counterplot. It has to do with the fortunes of a young college graduate who is made secretary to the committee of national defense in England at a time when martial preparations on the part of France boded war and the whole kingdom was astew over the fear of invasion. His post is necessarily one requiring ab- solute integrity and secrecy. So elab- orate are the provisions against the revelation of their plans by the mem- bers of the committes that even the combination word of their safe is never spoken aloud but scratched on paper and passed from hand to hand. De- spite all of these barriers, however, there is a leak and the French secret service is constantly supplied with the hidden maps and campalgn plans of the council's making. The tortuous events leading up to the discovery of the traitor give opportu- nity for many a thrill of adventure. ‘Wrapped about the main thread of the story is a sub-plot concerning the hero’s discovery of his father’s unfor- tunate fall from Integrity and the mastery exerted over him by a daring adventuress. There is, of course, a love story weaving its way through the book, but that is rather beside the mark in comparison with the dynamic energy of the mystery’s narration. Best of all, though it deals with dra- matic incident and stirring adventure, the book has nothing of the cheaply sensational about it; it would not ap- pear serially in the Fireside Compan- fon. (Dodd, Mead & Co., New York; {llus- trated; price $150. Potpourri of Seuoxfi Reading (1) OLAND OF ALTENBURG,” by REdwn.rd Mott Woolley, is some- what conventional as to plot and savoring a’bit' of the typical cut and dried novel of the hour. It has to do with a European princeling traveling in America incog- nito—quite a threadbare convention this—and the scenes shift from our own prosy, hustling country to the imaginary principality of the hero in an out of the way corner of the old world. A chance acquaintance with a beautiful girl on this side of the water sets the prince off on a love quest which has the usual twists and turns before it leads to a happy goal. The author has put into his story sev- eral inspiriting adventures and the usual number of complexities deemed requisite to the typical light novel. It s a light novel, nothing more. (Herbert 8. Stone & Co., Chicago.) Josephine Tozler, the author of “Among English Inns,” ha$ an eye for local color that should stand her in good stead should she decide to turn novelist. In this book of hers she has managed to catch the very unctuous oiliness of age and many stews that seasons the.oak beams of many an ancient hostelry. Not only ‘does she present us a faithful picture of the old inns themselves, with their rambling hallways, their musty bed- rooms and great, curtained four-post- ers, but the aroma of literary associa- tion that clings round the most fa- mous of them affords rich material for comment on the part of the au- thor. At Cloveley, where the writer and her friends were installed at The New Inn, opportunity was given to see the many scenes that gave setting to the early life of Charles Kingsley. The Old Red Lion Inn, in the near neigh- borhood, was the birthplace of that redoubtable sailor of Sal- vation Yeo. At The Bell Inn at Tewkesbury the travelers found them- in the midst of Miss Mulock’s country; in the bowling green behind the inn John Halifax and Phineas Fletcher had one of their first intl- mate talks. (L. C. Page & Co., trated; price $1.60.) Boston; illus- “The Life and Adventures of Jack Philip” is the title of a volume com-~ piled and written largely by Edgar Stanton Maclay as a memorial fo the late admiral. Appearing first in 1903 as a limited edition designed only for friends and officers in the navy, the work had such a large reading that the present edition has been necessitated to satisfy the demand. Though the story of Admiral Philip's life is herein given as nearly as possible in continu- ous narrative form, contributions thereunto a made by a score of friends of the former Officer, both in and out of the service. Captain Alfred T. Mahan contributes the introduction, Philip’s own story the Santiago sea fight, now a al document, forms a valuable portion of the book, and the enigraph written by the mar- tyred McKinley gives the volume the worth of semtiment. It is the story of a brave man and efficlent officer. (American Tract Society, New York; illustrated; price $1 50.) histo: D. W. Higgins, a pioneer of Call- fornia and one of the first settlars of British Columbia, has brought out a book of short stories and reminiscen~ ces dealing with the exciting scenes of the gold rush which took place in the Canadian northwest during the late fifties. Mr. Higgins, who was one of the original owners of the Morning Call, in 1856, here in this ecity, dis- posed of his Interests in the paper two years later and joined the mad rush to new diggings across the line There, living the life of pioneer and miner, Mr. Higgins gained at first hand the material for this book of his. “The Mystic Spring,” as he calls it from the title of the first story, is a generous volume of sketches and fle- tion. Many of the tales, true to the events they narrate, are stranger than fiction itself. (Willlam Briggs, Toronto; trated.) illus- “Dan Black, Editer and Proprietor”™ is the title of a short story by Seymour Eaton which appeared originally, in The Booklovers' Magazine some months back and is now brought out in boards as deservedly it should be. Few tales that come within the limits set for the short story outline so completely a character unique as this editor of the Northern Yankee News. His is a per- sonality so far removed from the con- ventional as to be refreshingly enter- taining. In this wise does Dan Black head the editorial column of each weekly issue: CALENDAR. July 4, 1334. Born deformed. May 6, 1840. Lost one eye. June 9, 1855. Killed Tom Gulsch. Sept. 3, 1355. Sentenced to be hanged. Oct. 7, 1855. Not hanged. June 5, 1366. Went to jail. May 1, 1367. Got out of jail And at the end of the story the fol- lowing item is added: Sept. 3, 1873 Married a wife. (The Library Publishing Company, Philadelphia; price 25 cents.) Harry Leon Wilson, whose brilliantly daring novel, “The Seeker,” is provok- ing such wide discussion, was asked the other day why he had written a book so much unlike his other successes, “The Spenders” and “The Lions of the Lord.” He replied, “I wrote “The Seeker’ because the story tqld itself to me and interested me. It seemed to me one phase of the much larger story that underlies the dry outer facts of our present stage of social evolution and the new and ever-increasing sense of brotherhood, of human oneness. Our ideals as expressed in religious and so- cial activities have expanded wonder- fully in twenty-five years. I have tried to trace this expansion to show how it affected a small group of people of widely different temperaments.” NewBooKs Received lllam Farqubar Payson; MeCiuze, Philiips & Core New York; Nlustrated; price $1 50. BLAZED TRAIL STORIES—Stewaré Nd- ward White: McClure, Phillips & Co, New York; price §1 50. “;x;udz HOUSE OF mm.l-.n&'o.— len Martin; McClure, Phillipe Naw York; illustrated: price $i 50. FALAISE OF THE BLESSED VOICE— Willlam Stearns Davis; the Macmillan Com~ pany, New York: price §1 50. DR. TOM—John Willlams Strester; the Mac- millan Company, New York: price §1 50. ELLEN, AND MR. MAN—Gouverneur Mor= vis- the Century Company, New York; b trated; price $125. SONNY: A CHRISTMAS GUEST—Ruth & Enery Stuart; the Cenmtury Company, York: fllustrated; price $1 25. THE GOOD OF THE wtm&-o?. i~ dare; Baker & Taylor Company, New DEACON . LYSANDER — Sacah lcy!# Greene: Baker & Taylor Company, New fllustrated. OUR_CHRISTMAS TIDES—Theodors yard Cuyler; Baker & Taylor Compaay, York; iliuminated pages. LEE AND LONGSTREET AT HIGH TIDB —Helen D. Longstreet; published by thor, Gainesville. Ga.: luscraed; price SATAN OF THE MO Iobnn Grattan Doyen: the pany, New York. THE WINGTOWN PARSON'S TER—Isabellas Plerpont Hopkins; Mains, New York; price 80 cents. ECHOES FROM THE GLEN—Willlam %a..r. the Grafton Press, New York; UNDERNEATH THE BOW-—Gearge England; the Grafton Press, Now price $1. LYRICS OF CHILDHOOD—Rdward bugh; the Grafton Press, New York: prios MAMMY ROSIE—Albert Morris Bagby; pub- lished by the author, New York. LITTLE Pm'l:n—!.‘npnln l-uu Dana, Es'es & Co., Boston; price $1. A KITTIWAKE OF THE GREAT Charles Frederick Stansbury; the Press, New illustrated; price - TWO IN A 2 00—Curtts Dunham 3 Herford: (s Bobte- Merrfl} cm h-. Puss 1N Ty CORNER—Edith Foster; Dana, Estes & Co., Boston; price 15 cents. 10t SALADS-May E. Eider & Co., San Franc ot S price cents. 101 BEVERAGES—May E. & Co., Sen Frane! e [ anl