Punch 1899-05-31: Vol 116

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May 3!', 1899.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 253 . '- Zz : jE, Uy, = “ WaZ a LID: L. ~ ON WA AN AFTER-DINNER DREAM OF THE DERBY. OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. At a period which everybody hopes is still far off the close of a busy life, Justin McCarrtuy sits down to write his Reminiscences, published in two handsome volumes by Cuatro anp WINDUs. Since the time of Ulysses few have seen more of cities and of men. The rare peculiarity of Mr. McCarruy’s work is that, reviewing troops of friends paraded on the field of a marvellous memory, he has not an unkind thing to say of any one. There is one passage at which the temptation to sprinkle a little cayenne pepper on his dish seemed irresistible. Writing to him in 1866, at the time when on the Reform Bill certain Liberals led by Mr. Lows deserted Mr. GLapsTonE and the Liberal Party, forming the world-famed Cave of Adullam, Mr. Bricut alludes to them as “ the traitors of our ranks.” For fear that way of putting it should not be harsh enough, he italicises the phrase. Mr. McCartruy might here have recalled the fact that when, exactly twenty-six years later, another Liberal cave was formed and Mr. GLADSTON# was again deserted, the seceders were not called anything worse than ‘“ Dissentient Liberals,” a phrase, my Baronite tells me, Mr. Bricgut personally resented as offensive. It must not be supposed that because Mr. McCartuy’s Reminiscences lacks the pungency malice purveys that it is mild in the sense of weakness of portraiture, bluntness of observation, or infelicity of expression. In each respect the fact is the reverse, Mr. McCarrsy therein particularly excelling. In the United States, on the Continent. ont at home, he has known most people worth knowing through the past thirty years. In his pages they live again in their daily habit. Of all the friendly crowd the character that stands most fully revealed in these pages, and can most fearlessly meet the light, is that of the biographer himself, for whom, as for WHITTIER, whose sweetness of nature he largely shares, it was written in a day of retrospect — How softly ebb the tides of will! How hushed the hiss of party hate How fields, once lost or won, The clamor of the throng! Now lie behind me green and still How old, harsh voices of debate Beneath a level sun! Flow into rhythmic song ! Literary Gossip —My Baronite regrets to hear that a coolness | has sprung up between two lady novelists. Miss BgaTRIcE HaRRADEN recently published a novel she called The Fowler. The authoress of Isabel Carnaby resents this as being a little too ersonal. Miss FowLer threatens to call her next novel The arvaden. In Marianna ; and Other Stories (BURLEIGH), GEORGETTE AGNEW has given us a well-devised original plot (the Baron is speaking only of Marianna), which she has cleverly worked out in a tragically romantic story. Its one fault is a certain diffuseness, arising from the authoress having been led away by her artistic perception of the picturesque. Although the prologue is admirably written, yet, artistically, the story would have ——y in effect had not only the peorens, but aleo the epilogue (for so mav be fairly termed the nal chapter following on the dénciiment) been omitted, and had the story finished, no matter how abruptly, with the death of the heroine. Marianna might well have appeared alone, without her two companion stories, The Leaend of an Oak Cradle and Pauline’s Sacrifice, of which the latter will be singled out by any experienced romance reader as of great merit and originality, but here comparatively put in the shade by Marianna. Henceforth the authoress has in Marianna a powerful rival to compete witb, and that she witl do so triumphantly is the opinion of Tue Baron ve B.-W. THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY PUBLISHING COMPANY, LIMITED. | Tuts Company has been formed to carry on the ordinary business of a publisher on the system devised by the eminent American humorist, Mark Twatn, in a moment of seriousness. Instead of en books witbin a few months of their completion, the Company will not publish any wonk until a century after the death of the author. All unpleassntness, opposition, and fear of | litigation on the part of the author’s contemporaries will thus be javoided. In the case of any author who may wieh to receive | remuneration for his work, the necessary deeds will be drawn up by the Company's solicitors to secure for his heirs, or their assigns, a sbare of the profits or a royalty on each copy sold. The Com- pany cannot treat with any impecunious writer whatever who might be misguided enough to desire some profit for | himself during his lifetime. The public taste varies so much during @ year, or even during a month, that it would be impossible | to estimate the probable sale of any work a century hence. The Company has received some very important testimonials from eminent authors. The following are a few extracts :— From a celebrated Authoress.—I think your scheme an excellent one, a should not personally be disposed to publish my works in thi i The present race of ignorant critics, actuated by mean envy of my attainments and achievements, attempts to depreciate the value of my books. Nevertheless, I have the largest circulation of any novelist in the world. I am convinced that my immortal works, the names of which are in the catalogue of every circulating library, will continue to,be published a century hence. SHAKSPEARE is not yet forgotten. Perhaps you might persuade Mr. Haut Carne to adopt your system. From a famous Author.— For others, mere penny-a-liners all of them, your plan is admirable. , I should not care for it. My works are not for one day, or for one century. They are for all time, including the present. SHaksPEAR wrote on this system, and I quite - ee ofit. Possibly Miss Marta Corer would like your method. From am eminent Poet.—Your system of publication is the best one could imagine for all ordinary poets. But for me, “by appointment” the official writer of odes and madrigals, instinct with journalistic actuality, the 7 of a day would be embarrass- ing. The delay of a century would be too terrible to contemplate. ** More long, more loved,” ss I have myself written, will apply to my poetry. But, immortal though they will certainly be, the actuality is indispensable for my effusions, to which I may apply the words of Perrarcu, ‘*Qimé ’1 pariar, ch’ ogni aspro ingegno e fero Faceva umile.” In my prose writings I am fond of quotaiions, but I will only give ou one more, this time not from a great English or Italian poet, but from a Latin one. ‘' Tempus edax rerum.” You might with advantage apply to Mr. ALGERNON SWINBURNE. From another eminent Poet.—Go to blazes! But previously, ere the sunlight sinks in the summer sea, send one of your beastly touting circulars to ALFRED AUSTIN. Kruger-Milner Concert. Tur High Commissioner will oblige with a song from My Milner’s Bill. Oom Pavt will retort with a pirate version of My Old Dutch, | of which the following is a specimen stanza: They ’ve bin without a vote for fifteen year, An’ it don’t seem a dy too much; There ain’t no party livin’ in the land What ’s a patch on this ’ere Ole Dutch! 909 Worrs wavine.—The “ Lyons’”’ share. VOL. CXVI,