owing to the great demand for war literature, Mr. Malone returned to Memphis and resumed the practice of law. In 1900 appeared 'Songs of North and South,' a volume containing the garnered work of the three preceding years. In this book the predictions made eight years before were fully verified. The volume introduced the author to Great Britain, and it was favorably received by Alfred Austin, Israel Zangwill, and the British and Scotch reviews. In 1904 appeared 'Poems,' a complete edition of all his poems up to that date, the early ones being rewritten and revised. In 1906 appeared his latest book, 'Songs of East and West,' a volume containing twenty-seven poems, many of them being pictures of travel in Europe, California, Florida, Cuba, and Mexico. His most widely quoted poem, "Opportunity," though by no means his best, according to the judgment of many who are competent authorities, appeared in Munsey's Magazine in March, 1905. This has been printed and reprinted time and again, in all English-speaking countries. In 1905, on petition of practically all of the Memphis Bar, Mr. Malone was appointed Judge of the Second Circuit Court of Shelby County, Tennessee, and by election he has held the office ever since. As a jurist he has attained to an eminence equal to that which he won in the forum, which is saying much, because his knowledge of the law is phenomenal. Indeed, Judge Malone possesses an encyclopedic mind. It is stored with various knowledge, not thrown in helter-skelter, but arranged and orderly, indexed, and readily accessible at all times. Be it reading the sweep of the skies and telling the names and positions of the planets and their mythological meanings, noting the names and sex of the trees of the forest, denominating grasses, weeds, shrubbery, flowers, and the birds of the air, his information is copious and accurate. In spite of his modesty, this abundance of information crops out in his writings. His consistent loyalty to his ideals has been most admirable. In this materialistic age, when everything is absorbed in moneygetting, he has steadfastly remained true to his conception of art. Through the long dark night he has followed his ideal, in spite of the fact that serious poetry has been discountenanced and frowned upon. Utilitarianism has never influenced him. His battle for recognition has been in a day and age when poetic sentiment is trampled upon and crushed; and it is no small tribute to his lofty aims and loyalty to concept to say that he never sought to gain an ephemeral popularity by methods in vogue at any particular time. When it was the fashion to make every Southern writer do his work in the dialect of the negro or the mountaineer, he wrote no dialect. When it was "the thing" to flood the magazines and newspapers with flimsy at tempts at humor and banal society verse, all his work has been in a serious vein. During this day of cheap optimism, he has always held that man, like nature, must have his serious as well as his happy moods. Let it not be understood that because Judge Malone is disposed to serious literary work he is personally obsessed by puritanical austerity or exclusiveness. On the contrary, he is a genial companion whose presence is sunshine and whose voice has the tonal cheerfulness of a pæan. His generosity often crosses the threshold of imprudence, and his love of friends and of children is immeasurable. This seriousness, and the fact that he has never followed current fads and fashions in doing his work, has delayed his recognition for years. Had he indulged in cheap, sycophantic verse, continually praising men and movements whose popularity would only last an hour, he would have been much better advertised and much better known; but this he never has done and never will do. He has long been known to the choice and discerning few; and through these his works have filtered down to the masses. The Fates, parsimonious and wary, have doled out his rewards; but at last his measure is full to overflowing. Judge Malone must be accorded full credit for being a pioneer among those pioneers in Southern literature who have made for it a firm foundation, based upon Southern life, Southern scenes, and nature as she appears in the South alone. The earlier writers of America harped on larks and nightingales, which they had never heard, and on rosemary and rue, which they had never seen. Like our early settlers who sent to Europe for building material, while at their feet lay inexhaustible supplies, their style, coloring, and ideas were imported. The mocking-bird was practically the only Southern bird known to literature; but the school of which Judge Malone is principal abandoned European books as sources of information and drew inspiration from the rich stores at hand. Judge Malone has taken the red-bird, the blue-bird, the woodpecker, the humming-bird, and others, and put them in the place of the feathered songsters of Europe of which we know nothing. He has taken the magnolia, the dogwood, the redbud, the passion-flower, the trumpet-flower, and others, and made them popular in literature. Besides his poems and short stories, three plays are to his credit: "Poe and Chopin" is a mystical and subjective study; "The Valley of the Shadow" is a drama based upon one of the many tragedies that occurred in Memphis during one of the yellow fever visitations. This drama is sociological, and eminently daring in its bold presentations of the plea of the women of the underworld, one of whom is its heroine. "Sam Davis" is a war drama, built around the name of the young Tennessee hero who declared on trial that he would rather be hanged a thousand times than to tell one lie or betray one friend; and who, scorning proffered freedom as the price of infidelity, was hanged as a spy by the Federal authorities. These plays have been highly commended by competent critics, and are soon to be produced. Judge Malone's later poems are finished and classic. Whatever there may have been of the crude, the callow, or immature in his earlier writings has all vanished. His later productions are literary cameos. They betray infinite pains and striving for perfection. About them there is no suggestion of haste. "Poco tiempo" seems to have been his motto. The children of his fancy are not permitted to go forth into the world deformed, dowdily dressed or over-dressed. Over them all he has exercised a parental care, and in them he has taken the pride of the true artist. He is intensely Southern. Even his cosmopolitanism savors of the Southern soil; has the flair of Southern flowers, and its sheen reflects the glory of Southern suns. He has imagination, feeling, sincerity, and a charming indifference to the praise or blame of the unthinking multitude. In a sordid and material age, he has demonstrated that there remain soul and music in the land. For Judge Malone there is still much light. Eight years must elapse ere he reaches the age of fifty, the period beyond which no poet has ever done work as good as his best. In these eight years there is warrant to expect much. MW Connolly OPPORTUNITY First published in Munsey's Magazine, and used here by permission of the [The first four poems are from 'Songs of East and West,' published by John P. Morton and Company, Louisville, Kentucky, 1906. The remaining selections are from 'Poems,' published by Paul and Douglass Company, Memphis, Tennessee, 1904. Copyright by Walter Malone, and used here by permission of author and publishers.] They do me wrong who say I come no more Wail not for precious chances passed away, Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep; No shame-faced outcast ever sank so deep, Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast? Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell; Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell, Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven. THE WOOD THRUSH Bird of the brown wing and the dotted breast, He dwells in deep woods, cool and dark and green; In dewy, dim retreats he rears his nest, By all save bare-foot truants left unseen. In Spring and Summer, at the dusk and dawn, Like rival troubadours, from every spray, When morning like a tulip flecked with fire, "O day of joy, haste, haste thy nimble feet! All earth is happy, like a sweet love-story. Come on, come on, where Youth and Pleasure meet, To crown thee as thou risest in thy glory!" When sunset lingers over Western hills In ashen purple, like an exiled king, Bird answers bird in melancholy trills Ah me, that song the wild wood-thrushes sing! "O perfect day, how soon thy joys shall end! Thou wilt return, O never, never, never; Far, O how far, thy weary feet must wend; O day of joy, farewell, farewell, forever!" |