7 MAY 1881, Page 20

THE NEW PLAYGROUND.* Ma. Kxox's travels iu Algeria, as may

be guesSed from the title, throw only a very indirect light on the difficulties lately risen between the French Government and the Bey of Tunis ; yet, if the North of Africa be such a charming and valuable possession as Mr. Knox describes it, the French may be more -anxious than many imagine to strengthen their position by the -annexation of Tunis. Mr. Knox has tried all winter resorts, and although he pronounces judgment somewhat hesitatingly in favour of Algiers, it is because man has done so little to aid -and complete the wonders which Nature has prepared.

Mr. Knox is of opinion that Algiers 'can be much improved by draining and villa-building, but he will not hear of inland seas nor Trans-Sahara railways. Let us be practical, and above sll bourgeois, is his constant cry. The title, The New Playground, is admirably chosen, for it expresses entirely the contents of the book. Mr. Knox tells us, in his opening chapters, that ho was in bad health, and that he went in search of a pleasure-ground where he could continue to enjoy a summer similar to the one that fades out of our skies towards the end of September. One ,of his most distinct statements is that he is not a young man who went to Algiers in search of adventures, but a middle- aged man who went with his wife to seek sunshine. Mr. Knox insists on his bourgeois character ; there is nothing romantic or poetic about him—ho knows little of such things —but he has distinct ideas as to comforts. From this 'point of view he criticises Algiers, and when he speaks as Paterfamilias, we believe in him sincerely and entirely. For example, when Mr. Knox tells us that it is necessary to exercise the greatest caution in selecting a villa on Mustapha, and ad- vises all intending purchasers to go into the open market, and not to listen to the gentlemen who hang around the hotele, tell- ing those whose acquaintance they made yesterday at the table d'hôte that for friendship's sake they will put them in the way of getting a beautiful villa at a merely nominal rent, We feel assured that Mr. Knox's advice is sound. Again, when be -tells us that the dinners at the R6gence are far bettor than those at the Orient, we make up our mind at once that when we -go to Algiers, no amount of persuasion will induce us to dine .at the latter establishment. Neither are we disposed to dispute the fact that if a company with sufficient capital took the matter up, and went in for villa and hotel building, the speculation would prove a financial success. Mr. Knox's "' cuckoo-cry" (to use his own expression) is that Mustapha is not well drained, that there are not sufficient good villas to be had, and that "it is a shame to send invalids to Algiers until you are sure that they can be properly housed or lodged." On ' all such subjects the New Playground is full of what we are 'disposed to think reliable information; but when Mr. Knox throws off his bourgeois clothes, which fit him to a nicety, and tries to put on those of the savant, the result is not so satis- factory. We really think that immense modern schemes, such as the Inland Sea, or the Trans-Sahara Railroad, which have been pronounced feasible by great engineers, and have been sanctioned, and for which preliminary money grants have been made by the Chamber, deserve something more than a couple of pages of flippant remark, such as a comparison between M. Duponchel's book on the subject and Eureka shirts, and the uselessness of through tickets to Timbuctoo, because the natives do not require the hair-restorer. Such remarks on serious sub- jects are annoying, and cannot be designated by any other word than silly.

. Mr. Knox, although ho went, according to his own confession, en bourgeois to Algeria, seems to have travelled about a good deal in search of information; but he takes no credit to himself for energy, admitting that the roads and inns are excellent, -that there is no reason except idleness for not making excur- sions through all parts of Algeria, and that the danger, if any, is a tough fowl. He went to Biskra, El-Aghouat, Constantine, Bougie, and he tries to take the reader• with him, but we cannot say very successfully. A sense of reality is one .of the rarest of literary gifts. We see this among the novelists. Many always remain provincial, and after twenty years of London life they fail to seize its characteristics, although they 'depict well scenes of country life. This is a partial want of the sense of reality. Their early impressions were the strongest, and their eyes cannot see truly again. The faculty of seeing ,quickly and broadly is especially necessary in a book of travels, • The New Plaggrownd 1 or, Wanderings in Algeria. By Alexander A. Knox. London : C. Kegan Paul and Co. 1881.

for its worth depends entirely on how truly and precisely the writer sees the form and colour of the country before him.

To Mr. Knox we cannot accord these qualities, for he could

paint a desert as well from imagination as from Nature. He passes through the country, and does not see anything either

clearly, simply, or exactly ; the three or four colours of which a landscape is composed, he cannot classify and arrange in their proper values ; consequently, what he does is colourless, characterless, and out of drawing. Mr. Knox is well aware of his want of strength in this respect, for he excuses himself, when brought face to face with something that demands description, by saying,—" Here, of course, I could do three or four pages of padding, but I won't." An extract will show how Mr. Knox describes a mosque :—

" We get rid of our shoes as usual, and find ourselves in a largo room, handsoMely carpeted, and this is the mosque ; it is in the shape of a parallelogram. The ceiling in green and red ; there is a very fine chandelier. The thin columns are of white marble, and wo were particularly struck with the tilos with which the walls are incrusted. There is the usual Mihrab, and close beside it the mimbar, or pulpit, as beautiful as many-coloured marbles can make it; opposite these, a sort of gallery. This is a kind of inventory of the contents of the chamber ; but merely to mention these, is but to give a faint idea of its beauty."

This want of power of seeing simply and broadly makes Algeria, as painted by Mr. Knox, a formless, colourless, and odourless country. The anecdotes, which are sparely scattered through the work, might have been invented, so little do they savour of the Arab ; and a want of literary ability to contrast and con- struct the narrative, account for the four' hundred and eighty

pages, which a more practised hand would have reduced to three hundred. Yet, notwithstanding these grave defects, the New Playground will prove valuable reading to all going or thinking

of going to Algeria. It does much to remove many foolish prejudices, and it shows very clearly what a visitor may and may not expect. We have many books on the subject, both scientific and poetic, but hardly one so frankly bourgeois. The

New Playground is the sensible expression of a man's opinion whose praise and censure are not influenced by desires to break hearts or shoot lions. When wo say that the New Playground

might be called "M. Joseph Prudhomme en Alerie," we pay it the truest compliment.