Author Of “White Shadows” Is Dead.

Picturesque Career of Frederick O’Brien.

Written for The Pacific Islands Monthly by Dr. G. H. Vernon, who was with O'Brien in Tahiti in 1914, and who appears as a character in one of O’Brien's books.

FREDERICK O’BRIEN, author, travel ler and lover of the South Seas, died at his home in Sausalito, near San Francisco, on January 9, and a striking figure in Californian literary circles, as well as an authority on Polynesia, has disappeared.

As a writer, O’Brien did not spring into fame till fairly late in life. His first and most famous book, “White Shadows in the South Seas,” was prac tically finished before the War, but its publication was delayed till 1921. It earned immediate recognition. His theory that the Marquesans were closely related to the Aryan stock, from which we ourselves have sprung, was intriguing enough to attract attention.

But the real worth of the book lies in its broad humanity and the clear-see ing manner in which he has drawn this picture of a dying race. His other South Sea works, “Mystic Isles” and “Atolls of the Sun” are equally well known and admired.

O’Brien’s own description of himself was “half priest, half pagan.” Those who had the privilege of knowing him could easily discern the “pagan” ele ment in his character —if by that he referred to his love of South Sea life and people, and his unconventional in tercourse with them. He was a lover of nature, of sunshine, of individual liberty, and of all the trivialities that make up the charm of life in the Paci fic, which so many worthy travellers in those delectable islands entirely miss.

He was beloved by the natives where ever he went. Thus, surely, a man who brought lightheartedness, laughter and sympathy into the rather sombre life of the Marquesans deserved the self bestowed title of “priest.”

O’Brien was a most entertaining companion. He had been everywhere; he knew everyone. He prophesied with perfect accuracy the crestfallen return of a party of Americans in Tahiti from a week-end in Moorea, where they had gone to seek hospitality from a certain Scottish hotelkeeper. “They will come back hungry,” he said —and they did.

“Mac.” was well-known to starve any clients whose presence did not please him, as any old-hand in Tahiti knows.

No one but O’Brien in these later days could have extracted all the informa tion that is found in “Mystic Isles.”

Those comprehensive notes on the Arioi, the ancient religion of Tahiti, the codes and castes of former days, and all the old legends and customs could only have been confided by na tives to one whom they regarded as a trusted friend.

It is not so very long ago that Mr.

J. B. Priestly was bemoaning in an English literary magazine the fact that “The Great Book” of the South Seas had never been written. Probably it never will be written now, for the old spirit of Polynesia has gone, and gone for ever. No living writer can live that life to-day, and to recall it now would be only to record history, not living fact. Even R.L.S., in spite of “Vailima

Letters” and ‘‘In the South Seas” — books full of sympathy and tenderness towards his adopted land —failed to produce the epic such a subject is en titled to. Like Stevenson, O’Brien had a special gift in interpreting Island life and in his company one quickly learned that he held in his hands the keys to the heart of Polynesia.

Great as has been the influence of the British, we must turn to a French writer to find the master book of the Pacific. Perhaps this is because the Gallic outlook on life approaches more closely Polynesian ideals than does the sterner code of the Anglo-Saxon. In “Le Manage de Loti,” an almost per fect picture of Tahitian life has been attained, intimate, passionate and sym pathetic, yet tinged with French cynic ism; it demonstrates so clearly that undercurrent of sadness that attends all relationship between Europe and Poly nesia, and which, indeed, surrounds the native himself from the cradle to the grave. No story of the South Seas can touch the heart like Loti’s. Still, O’Brien had the knowledge and the tempera ment to have approached it, had he set himself the task.

True to his instincts to the last, O’Brien left instructions that his fun eral rites should be of the simplest.

His body was cremated and his ashes cast by the hands of one of his great est friends over the waters of the Pacific.

A Rebel To Convention.

O’Brien succumbed to a heart ail ment at his home in Sausalito (says an American correspondent). He had been ill for several weeks but his recovery had been anticipated. A relapse was suffered, and O’Brien died the next day with two of his closest friends at his bedside.

O’Brien was 62 years of age at the time of his death. He was born in Baltimore and at an early age ran away to sea. From then on, a series of adventures made his life a thrilling episode.

Always a rebel to convention, he jumped the ship and at an age when most youths of 18 are starting college, he plunged into an exploration trip into the interior of Brazil.

On his return to America, parental control got the best of him for a while and he worked for a year as a law clerk. He soon gave it up, however, and resumed his wanderings over the face of the earth.

He participated in General Coxey s army march from California to Wash ington and then took up newspaper work. He was employed on many me tropolitan newspapers and was war correspondent during the Russo-Japan ese war.

The material he gathered in the South Ses was later to make him nat ionally known when he wrote his “White Shadows.” The book became a best seller, was translated into many languages and was screened as an epic.