(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
Unless you can share with me the sad immunity of the forties, I must
despair of translating for you the emotion raised in my antique soul by
the wrapper of a new RIDER HAGGARD story bearing the picture of a Zulu
and the discovery inside that _Quatermain_ is come again! The tale that
has so excited me is called, a little ominously, _Finished_ (WARD,
LOCK), and I could have better loved a cheerier title. The matter is, to
begin with, an affair of a shady doctor, of I.D.B. and an abduction;
none of it, I admit, any too absorbing. But about halfway through the
author, as though sharing my own views upon this part of the plot,
exchanges (so to speak) the Shady for the Black, and transports us all
to Zululand. And if you need reminding of what H.R.H. can do with that
delectable country, I can only say I am sorry for you. Incidentally
there are some stirring scenes from certain pages of history that the
glare of these later days has rather faded--Isandhlwana and Rorke's
Drift among them; as well as the human drama of the feud between
CETEWAYO (terror of my nursery!) and the witch-doctor _Zikali_. Whether
the old careless rapture is altogether recovered is another matter; at
least the jolly unpronounceable names are still there, and the
picturesque speech. Most of the names, that is; _Allan_ of course, and
others, but I for one should have welcomed rare _Umslopogaas_--or
however he is rightly spelt--and _Curtis_, for personal reasons my
favourite of the gallant company that have so often kept secret
rendezvous with me behind the unlifted lid of a desk at preparation
time. And now have we really come at long last to _Finished_? I can only
hope that Sir H. RIDER HAGGARD doesn't mean it.
* * * * *
Mrs. HUMPHRY WARD may be numbered amongst the most indefatigable of
women war-workers. She has now followed up her former success in
_England's Effort_ with a volume carrying on the story of our part in
the War under the title of _Towards the Goal_ (MURRAY). The book is
written in the form of a series of letters addressed to ex-President
ROOSEVELT, as the onlie begetter both of it and its predecessor. It is
further equipped with a preface by the hand of this same able and
clear-sighted gentleman, the chief drawback of which (from my reviewing
point of view) is that it covers so well the whole ground of
appreciation as to leave me nothing more to add. "Mrs. Ward writes nobly
on a noble theme"--_voilà tout!_ Her theme, as I have hinted, is a
further exposition of Britain's war activities as those have developed
since the former book was published. In its course Mrs. WARD gives us
some vivid experiences of her own as a visitor to the Western Front:
things seen and heard, well calculated (were this needed) to stiffen the
resolution of the great people to whom her letters are really written.
_England's Effort_ was, I understand, translated into many tongues (with
results that can hardly fail of being enormously valuable); _Towards the
Goal_ should certainly receive the same treatment of which it is well
worthy.
* * * * *
Mr. WILLIAM HARBUTT DAWSON, in his _After War Problems_ (ALLEN AND
UNWIN), covers, under the four headings, Empire and Citizenship, Natural
Efficiency, Social Reform, and National Finance and Taxation,
bewilderingly wide ground, and drives a perhaps rather mandarinish team
of contributors. Lord HALDANE, for instance, is no longer in the real
van of educational endeavour, and is it wholly insignificant that his
chapter on Education appears in the section headed National Efficiency
rather than in that of Social Reform? It ought not to be difficult to
give, in the light of these last years, a wider interpretation to
Patriotism than that expressed by Lord MEATH on lines familiar to his
public. Sir WILLIAM CHANCE has seen no new sign in the skies in relation
to the problem of poverty. Sir BENJAMIN BROWNE, whose death all those
interested in the settlement of the Capital-Labour quarrel must deplore,
as for all his uncompromising individualism he brought to it a rare
breadth of view, says much that is of real value, but does not refrain
from appealing to the fact that the mutual confidence of man and officer
in battle is a proof of the possibility of a similar confidence in the
workshop. That confidence must, and can, we dare to believe, eventually
be established. But the men don't go over the top to put money in the
Colonel's pocket, and little good is done by exploiting these loose
analogies and putting on a too easy air of optimism in the face of
desperately serious and complex problems. But enough of fault-finding,
which is a poor reward for the serious and generous labours of
public-spirited men and women. After all, what one reader calls timidity
of outlook another may care to praise as prudence. Here you will find an
abundance of safe analysis, wise comment and constructive suggestion
from a galaxy of accredited authorities.
* * * * *
In the early chapters of Mr. WILLIAM HEWLETT'S new story, _The
Plot-Maker_ (DUCKWORTH), we are introduced to a popular and highly
successful novelist, named _Coulthard Henderson_, in the emotional
crisis produced by a sudden doubt as to whether his output of
best-sellers represented anything in the least approaching actuality.
You will admit a tragic situation. He meets it by the determination that
his next book shall be a veritable slice of life, and to this end he
selects and finances an eligible young man for the purpose of
vicariously experiencing those emotions, from which age and other causes
debar the chronicler; in other words, he hires a hero. The worst of this
excellent idea is that it can hardly be said to originate either with
_Mr. Henderson_ or Mr. HEWLETT, that credit belonging (I fancy) to the
late HERBERT FLOWERDEW in a too-little-appreciated masterpiece of
sensational burlesque called _The Realist_. However, _The Plot-Maker_,
once set going, develops admirably enough on lines entirely its own. The
so-much-an-hour hero turns out an engaging young gentleman, but a
wofully poor protagonist. The situation where (in the midst of whirling
events) he makes the startling discovery that he himself has been in
some way switched on to the part of villain is one that you can
appreciate only at first hand. Certainly if you want (as who does not in
these days?) an anaesthetic of agreeable nonsense _The Plot-Maker_ is a
medium that I can cordially recommend: one obvious advantage being that
you need not try to believe a single word of it.
* * * * *