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individuals concerned ascertain whether such and
such a statement made to them is true before giving
it currency A couple of penny stamps expended in
private correspondence would settle the question.
"personalities," however, would .seem to be greatly
in vogue. Note tin- following:
At even o'clock the King left lh< hotel and walked to
the spring to .lrmk more ol the water Altogether, his
majesty has t> .lrmk about a .ju.irt of the w.u.-r every morn
ing Ik-! '>re breakfast.
Standing among the throng, in which every type md
nationality of humanity was represented, the King sipped
und pint k'-' ss of water.
After drinking the qu irt ol water, the regulations laid
down t'>r the "cure" further require the Kin^ to walk two
!. ■:: before eating a morsel ■■! food.
This his majesty performed by pacing up and down the
promenade from the Kruez spring at one end to the 1 er I -
: ring at the other.
Notw ithstanding all th.- appeals of the local authorities
• • King Edward was much greatly »■•'•
icn . i bj the nobbish curiosity of th<- crowd.
One may query whether "the snobbish curiosity of
the crowd" or the snobbish newspaper information as
to how "the Kinjj sipped his second pint glass of
water" was the most reprehensible. <it course there
are both men and women who delight in the person
alities of the press, especially when they concern them-
Sir Gilbert Parker, for instance, would have
been justly annoyed had the "fashionable news col
umn" failed to insert an announcement that he had
followed the Kinj,' (with that "snobbish" crowd,
i>ne supposes?) to Blarienbad Many women of rank
and title are only too happy to have their dresses
des< ribed to the "Man in the Street." and their physi
cal ' harms discussed by Tom Dick arid Harry. And
when tin- pr.-^s is amiable enough to oblige them in
these little yearnings for publicity, let .us hope that
t!i-- laborer, beinjj worthy of his hire, hath his reward.
In olden days it would seem that a great part of the
responsibility ol tin- press lay in its criticism of art
and literature That burden, however, no longer lies
upon its ihoulders. Since '!• jieople began to read
for thei r.'-Wspape: a- far as books
are concerned carrie I ■':■." When some par
ticular 1 1. id this kind
of thing alx>ul it "1 .- and style
it • apt mcv of th it attracting
1 tttentioi ti d and discrimi
■>■ approval alone gives any chance
oi permai to « >rk
"The criti a. and discriminating few" in Italy long
ago condemned Oa'.'e as a " -u:\.iv" rhymer, who
u. .ed the "|H.'ople's vernai ular. " Now the much abused
Florentine is tin- great Italian classic. The same
" . rit ical an 1 di >n !• mned ]• >hn
Keat . a'lhj is now >■!.. ' - ; among the chiefest of
English poets. Onslaughts ol tin bitterest kind were
hurled at the novels oi I »i. kens by the ' ■ riti
cal and discriminating few"; but he "captured the
fancy of the masses " and lives in the hearts and
h":n'-^ oi thousands for whom the "critical and dis
criminating few " might jutu t as well never have existed.
And when you look up the names of the "critical
and discriminating few " in our own day, we find
strange to say, that thej are all disappointed authors.
All o! them have written poems or novels, which are
failures Su ••■ must needs pity their "criticism"
and "discrimination" equally, knowing the secret
fount oi gall for which both these delicate emotions
spring At the same time, the "responsibility" of
tlie press might still '.<• apj>ealed to in literary, dramatic
and artist ii matters, as, for example:
Why permit an unsu ■ ;ful artist tv criticize a
successful pi' t ure ?
GARBEM SILUMEER SONG— By aloysius coi
In Km noon of summer, little girl, little girl.
Let me lead you to Dreamland Dune,
Where the blossoms blow, md the tendrils curl
In the wake of the haunting June ;
For June is a spirit, now, little girl.
And he: footprints are on the ground —
The primrose bold on the moonlit hill.
The m.nn-.old by the shadow;, i i!!,
And the daisies all around.
These are the spirits, little girl, little girl.
And they dance on the Dreamland Dun-
To the crickets' song and the night-winds' whirl
In the smile of the wide, white moon;
h at Hm moon is a spirit, too, little girl.
And has joined the spirit band
The s, ji s ot gold in the milky sky.
And the da^siis bold that p ,-, . a ,,<j S p y>
From the dusk of Shadow Ljrd.
SUNDAY MAGAZINE /or OCTOBER 2. 1004
Why ask an unlucky playwright, who cannot
even a farce accepted, to criticize a brilliant play.'
Why depute a man <>r woman who has "essayed"
a little unsuccessful fiction to "review" a novel which
has "captured T tie fancy of the masses" and is selling.
These be weighty matters. Common human nai
i- common human nature all the world over, and it is
noi in common human nature to gi
for what we ours i ' ' !"'! "'
same fine endowment ■>! gi »s Sir \\
Scott, who wrote an anonymous review ol I."rd
Byron's : mg them the me I
. and frankly stating thai after the a
of so brilliant a luminary ■
could no longer be considered worthy •>: aTtentkmas
a poet. What rhymer would thus nobly
condemn himself in order to give praise to a rival?
May it not, with due respect, be suggested to thoaa
who have the handling ol such matters that neither
the avowed friends nor the avowed foes >r authors be
permitted to review their books — the same rule ol
criticism to apply equally to the works ol musicians.
painters, sculptors ami playwrights' Neither per
sonal prejudice nor personal favoritism should ba
permitted to interfere with the impression ol a work of
art. Vulgar abuse and fervid eulogy are out ol place.
In the production ol the human brain nothing is
wholly bad, and nothing is wholly good. Perfection
is impossible of attainment on <>nr present plain- of
existence. We <lo not find it in Nature, still less shall
we find it in ourselves. The critic can show good
in everything if he him.. If is of a $»o*>d mind. Of he
can show bad in everything as easily, should his
digestion be out of order.
Unfortunately, the "wear and tear of Bfe." to quote
the patent-medicine advertisements, wreaks natural
havoc <>;: the physical composition of the unfortunate
man who is perhaps set down to review twenty novels
in one column of print for the trilling sum of a guinea.
All sorts of difficulties beset him. For instanci
may be employed on a certain "literary" paper wl
g th'- property of the relatr es of a novelist exists
chiefly to praise th.it novelist, c igh it be
curiously called .m "organ >•'■ English !■■ ' and
woe betide th.- miserable man who dans to praise any*
Knowing much of the ins and outs of the
literary "grind." 1 tender my salutations to a! I reviewers
of ! k^. together with my i sympathy. I
am truly sorry lor them, and I do not in the least
they hate with a deadly hatred every
creature who writes a • -yel — be»
. for reviewing such a book is never
in proportion to its length, as
1; it, anyway, it doesn't matter how much or how
::' it is criticized. The bulk of the public do not
read reviews. That is left to the "discriminating few."
And, oli, how that "disi rimin would to
"capture the fancy of the masses" if they could only
manage to do it! Yet, "Never mind' " they say, with
th.- tragedian's .^lare and scowl "Our names will be
ribed upon the scroll of fame •▼hen ail ye are f>r
gotten! ' Hea\ i-n l" <•• * hem this poor comfort!
One can onh regret that in these days of won
■l rful n search, discovery md invention so little is
done to popularize science i-i the columns •■: the daily
press The majority of the publk m appallingly
ignoi tronomy, for instance. Would it v
as interesting to instruct them in a !<■ and easy
style as to the actual wonders of the heavens about us.
a ■ •■> !:!1 then minds with the details ol a murder? I
hardly like to touch on the subject of geography, for
■ i fifteen "educated" persons I asked recently, not
one knew the actual situation on the map of Tibet.
Now, it seems to me that the press could work
wonders in the way of education — much more than
the "Bill" will ever do. Books on science and learn*
ing are often sadly dull, and generally ex pen ive. 4
The public cannot afford to buy them largely, nor
does it ask for them much at the libraries. U the
daily journals made it a rule to give bright, p:c:ur
esqtte articles on some grand old truths of science, or *
some great new discoveries, such a course of proa dtjre
would l>e far more productive of good than any nun! er
of "Short Sermons" such as we have lately heard
discussed in various quarters; or the press i.-, re illy
a greater educational force than the pulpit, In its
hands it has the social molding of a people, the dignity
of a nation as, represented to other nations. There
could hardly be a nobler task; there certainly can
never be a higher responsibility.
ECopyrii»hH I^4. »>y Cmtril N<r>s * Previ E»cham;e.!
["Unchristian Clerics" next Sunday.]
Before aiadl After Vacation
By Morris Wade
MRS. SAWYER to her mamma
"Dear Mamma -We go to the country to
morrow for six long, delightful weeks of perfect rest
and quiet. Horace has found the most charming
place, a dear old farm right on the bank of a beautiful
river, with green fields and grand old woods all arovnd
it. Won't it be splendid for the children? I intend ' -
keeping them out of doors every minute I can. and
they'll come home so brown and healthy you won't
know them when you come to see us in the fall. We
expect to have a perfectly lovely time. I'll writo
again when we get there."
The same to the same:
"Dear Mamma — We came home Saturday. an>!
you don't know how glad we are to be here again!
Horace will know it when he gets me to the country
again. There we were cooped up in two stuffy little
rooms with one closet about as big as a soap-box. I"
wrote you before about the dreadful water they had
because the well was within ten feet 6t the barn, and
al>out our dear little Horace getting so drear
poisoned with ivy before we had been there three
days. I haven't dared to tell you before, but Maudie
and Bruce came near being drowned in that dread
ful river. They wen" playing in a leaky old boar
when it upset, and if Horace hail not chanced to be
right at hand they would have been drowned. Then
they were lost in the woods for live dreadful hours,
and little Bruce got pitched over a fence by a hooky
cow. All of the children got into a hornet's nest
one day. and they were stung all over. Harold fell
from the hay-loft anil knocked out two of his front
teeth, and Horace had to gallop si-, miles for a doctor.
for we feared the child was injured internally. Horace
was taken with malarial fever, and it is lucky it didn't
end in typhoid. We found out just as we were leaving
that there was a foot of water in the cellar, and that
the walls were covered with a green slime. •
"And mosquitos! I never saw anything like it.
We had to tight them night and day. Claude fell
into an old well, and it is a mercy he wasn't killed.
We had feather-beds to sleep on, and apple-pie for
dessert every day we were there. The fanner had .'.
big yellow dog that barked and howled all nigh
and tour or five old roosters that began to crow at
about two o'clock every morning and kept i: ir>
until six. And the hen-house was right under •■ :
windows. There seemed to be a thousand cricket
in our room, and it made me so nervous t*.* hear :
rats scampering alnuit between the walls and ■
head that I couldn't sleep tor a minute. We si
one week and came home I'll write again v- '.. !
In the noon of shunter, little girl. Ettle girl.
Let me lead you to Dreamland Dune.
Where the dewdrops tremMe. ike totes
In the eyes of the Fairy June ;
And on her ankles, too. little girl.
As she dances o'er the ground
And the daisies spring from beneath her feet.
And everything that is fair and sweet
On the lap of the garden ground.
In the noon of your Bfe. little girl, ink; girl,
WOI you think of the Dreamland Dun.'.
And rememher. then, when your heart's awhki.
Your vow of the long-lost June?
When love is abloom like a flower. Ettle grr«.
Let joy in your heart abound.
And smile on the world as you pass it by.
Lake a raariyold in the sainted sky.
And the daisies in the ground.