The Washington times., 1901-11-03
Canadian Idyis.

rally TO his fame, for 1t is not too much
to say that such books as this make life
seem better worth living. 1t is full of
the breath Of the woods and Of warm hu-
man nature, and every one of the eight
stories which make up the collection is
a gem.
But there is one light of the stars. and
another light Of the moon. and another of
the sun. and one star differs from another
star in glory: and though all are good.
two or three of these little Canadian idyls
are exquisite. "A Friend of Justice" is
the finest dog story published in some
time, and ranks with "Rab and His
Friends ''The Reward of Virtue" is
Eumor, pathos and sentiment all welded
into one. with consummate skill. The
Gentle Life" is unique in its way, being
a postscript to the quaint work of Izaak
Walton, which, perhaps, nobody but Mr..
Van Dyke could have written. Through
them all are heard the ripple of waters.
the coo of birds the rustic of leaves;
they are such stories as one could wish
TO read beside winter fire. or out in
the woods on a still summer morning;
and there are few books, indeed, which
can survive this test
For the most part. the book is unquota-
BILE; that is, to select scraps of its deli
crate imagery or whimsical humor would
be like cutting one of Inness' paintings
int osections, and that is a devitalizing
and barbarous process that no picture
ought to be called on to endure But
there is bit of dialogue in one of them
which can be eXcised without harm to
itself, and which shows the authors
whimsical humnr The chief speaker is
a Canadian fish 1rman. with whom an en-
ergetic American lady has been laboring
Oh l. svf,.
This is the way in " hich the story of his
conversion is told:
I was smoking at the stern of the
canoe, and she said that the tobacco
was filthy weed: that il grew in the
devils garden, and that it smelled bad
terribly bad, and that it made the air
sick, and that even the pig would
not eat it
Il could imagine Patrick's dismay
as he listened to this dissertation; for
in his way he was as sensitive as a
woman, and he would rather have
been upset in his canoe than have ex-
posed himself to the reproaCh of Of
Tending any one of his patrons by un-
pleasant or unseemly conduct.
asked
Certainly put out the pipe-what
could ! do otherwise? But / thought
that what the demoiSelle Meelair has
said was very strange and not true
exactly; for l have often seen the to-
~ barco grow, and ii springs up out of
the ground like the wheat or the beans,
and it has beautiful leaves. broad and
F.. green with sometimes red flower
At the top. Does the good God cause
The filthy weeds to grow like that?
Are they not all clean that he has
made? The potato-it is not filthy.
And the onion? 1t has strong smell;
but the demoiselle Meelair, she ate
much of the onion-when we We're not
at the Island House. but in the camp.
And the smell of the tobacco-this
is an affair of the taste. For me, 1
love it much; ii is like a spice. When
] come home at night to the campfire.
where the boys are smoking, the smell
Of the pipes runs far out into the
woods to salute me. 1t says Here
we are, Patrique; come in near TO the
fire" The smell of the tobacco is more
sweet than the smell of the fish. The
pig loves II not, assuredly; but what
then? am not pig.
The naivete and good. hard sense Of
this interview make it instructive as well
as delightful-that is it would be instruc-
tive to some people of the type of the
demoiselle Meelair if they happened to
read it.
y For the rest, suffice it TO say that Mr..
Van Dyke has presented these French
Canadian folk as they are-transplanted
peasants, with all the loyalty, gentleness,
courtesy and passion Of the Old World
Breton or Norman. All Of the stories ex-
cept two or three deal with :hem cxclu-
sively. or the somewhat enigmatical title
Of the book the author writes in a preface
which Is in some sort an explanation Of
his way Of Iokirs at things and Of por-
traying them:
In every life worth writing about
there IS a ruling passicn-thC very
pulse Of the machine Mess you
touch that. yoU are cropping around
outside Of reality.
Sometimes it Is romantic love; Ma
ture's masterpiece Of benefceut self
ishress. In almost all lives this pas
sion has its season Of empire. There
fore. and rightly, it IS the favorite
theme OF the stOry-telleT. ROmanuc
love interests almost everybody, be
cause almost everybody knows some
thing about it, or would Ike 10 know.
But there are other passions, no less
real which also have their place and
power in human life. Some of them
come earlier, and sometimes they last
longer. than romantic love. They play
alongside Of II and are mixed up with
81, now checking il, now advancing its
flow and tingeing it with their own
color. Just because love is so univer-
sal. IL Is often TO one Of the other pas
sions that we must look for the dis
tinctive hue, the individual quality Of
q lie story. Granted if YOU Will, that
everybody must fail in love, or ought
TO fall in love, how will he do it, And
what will he do afterward? These are
questions not without interest to one
who watches the human drama as
friend. The answers depend upon those
hidden and durable desires. affections,
and impulses to which men and women
give themselves up for rule and guild
ance.
Music. nature. children. honor,
strife, revenge, money. pride. friend
ship, loyalty, duty--to these objects
and others like them, the secret power
Of personal passion often turns, and
the life uncousciously follows 1t, as the
tides in che sea follow the moon in
the sky.
when circumstances cross the rul-
ing passion; when rocks lie in the
way. and winds are contrary, then
things happen, characters emerge
slight events are significant, mere ad-
ventures are transformed into a real
plot. What care ! how many hair
breadth 'scapes' and moving acci-
dents your hero may pass through,
unless / know him for MANI He is
but puppCt, strung on wires. His
kisses are wooden and his wounds
bleed saWdust There is nothing about
him TO remember except his name, and
perhaps bit OF dialect. Kill him, or
crown him-what difference does it
"But 90 the other way about your
work:
Take the least man Of all mankind, rs /;
Look at lis head and heart; find how and Why
he differs from his fellows utterly
and now there is something to tell,
with meaning.
IF you tell It at length. Il IS a novel
"A painting. If you tell it in brief. il is
short story-an etching. But the
subject Is always the same-the un-
seen, mysterious, ruling passion, weaV-
ing the stuff of human nature into
patterns. wherein the soul is imaged
and revealed"
And that Is why Mr.. Van Dykes work