BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

Evening Star, Issue 18809, 6 December 1924, Page 13

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

VERSES, aw orchard symphony. Ths yellow air is dim for sighs; The dying flowers torn from the sun, Fading; like dreaming butterflies The dark red leaves drop, petal-wise, Silently, one by one. The heavy, lazy, golden pears Fall softly on the long, rich grass; A late last swallow unawares Comes where it came in after years, And thinks of all that was. ( Between the lines of apple tree# ! Red-vested maidens, in a row, , Like some angelic painted frieze, 1 Pass, sighing for lost gallantries j And channting as they go. j Brendan Wiujams, in ‘ Sunday I Observer.’ \ LONELINESS. IV*l have known loneliness blinding my eyes and pressing on my heart In the frequented mazes of a mart Amid the city’s thought-confusing stress; ■ There in the seething press Of vital needs and paths, I stood apart, Conspicuous, ignored ... nor dared depart - Lad; one would note and mark, my weak I distress. V*l have known loneliness—- ' But only when men pressed mo to the wall With their-divergent customs, merciless 'And to take my soul in thrall—- ; Then, trembling, I have feared their chance success, j Lest, losing solitude, I should lose all!” I Theda Kenyon, in the ‘ Independent.’ BOOK-BOX OF NOVELS (1688-1727). ■** In some country houses the arrival of the book-box from the circulating library is still something of an event,” writes Lord Ernie in the Edinburgh ‘ Review.’ “ The interest is not confined to tho present generation, though formerly tho books wers bought, not borrowed. A voluntary exile, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, Jived in Italy from 1739 to 1762. Alert in mind, keen in her varied interests, her letters show her craving for tidings of her friends and for literary news. She asks her daughter for books, and is impatient for their arrival through the British Consul at Venice. On one occasion tho box came in her absence. M ‘After having rode twenty miles, part of ft by moonshine, it was 10 at night when I found the box arrived. I could not deny myself the pleasure of opening it; and, falling upon Fielding’s works, was fool'enough to sit up all night reading.’ “ Most of the books that Lady Mary ordered are now completely forgotten. Her list for 1757, chosen from advertisements in the newspapers, consisted entirely of novels. ‘ I do not doubt,’ she says, ‘ at least tho greatest part of these are trash, lumber, etc.’ “ For many years after the flight of James 11., colonies of English, Scottish, and Irish refugees were living on the Continent. After the ‘ Fifteen ’ their number was swollen by Jacobite exiles. Imagine the members of one of these families, who had found an asylum at Dijon or at Avignon, and shared the literary tastes of Lady Mary. What were the novels during tho period 1688-1727 for which they ■would have asked, or that friends in Eng- ; land would have chosen because they were : read or discussed at Home “ Both in quality and in quantity the choice was limited. Few notable novels, using the word in its strict sense, were produced at Home between the appearance of ' Oroonoko ’ (1688) and that of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ (1719). Even in quantity the output was poor. During tho reigns of William and Mary and' of .William HI., it was, in fact, extraordinarily small. In this respect history ■did not repeat itself. Politically, the period was a lull after a' storm. Scarcely more than twenty-five novels have survived to tell their tales. These were not huge folios. They were thin duodecimo volumes, so that the whole output might have been packed in a aringle book-box.” WORDSWORTH’S ENDINGS, Sir Sidney Colvin, in a letter to ‘ The Times,’ discussing Wordsworth’s gift for good endings and care over them, particu-] larly in relation to his sonnets, says: “Ij think his most memorable ending of all is that of the poem on the ‘Yew Trees of j Lorton Vale.’ The whole of this piece! of thirty-five lines is wrought at a pitch of imaginative inspiration and studious craftsmanship combined which must have made'it specially difficult to end in a manner that should not bo in some degree a let-down. It is not in the power of mere words to transcend in imaginative efiect those that describe the inveterate convolutions of tho yew-trunks and marvel what ghostly shapes may haunt beneath them. “ Technically speaking, Wordsworth is, I think, at the height of his genius when ho bethinks himself of a proper name which by the mure weirdness and iterated sonority of its vowel sounds shall come upon the imaginative sense with a greater power to seize and haunt thary all the masterly descriptive and evocative work tinat lias led up to it—- “ in mute repose To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara’s inmost cave?.’ “ How those caves that we now hear murmuring would bellow in time of storm! The poem, of course, is one of Wordsworth’s best known, and is ’quoted by Coleridge in his ‘ Bingraphia Litcraria,’ but I have not seen my particular point in regard to its climax made elsewhere.” “MY FAMILY IS DESTINED TO DIE OUT.” Mr Arthur C. Benson, the son of Archbishop Benson, makes a pathetic but extremely interesting statement about Ids family in the ‘ Church Newspaper.’ lie also tells of a charming thing ho has done: “ My family, it would seem, is destined to die out; only rny brother and myself, both unmarried and e’derly, are left. And my father’s life and affections were so much knit up with Truro, that I am placing as many little relics of him as I can collect in the Cathedral Library there. His robes are all there, and all his personal belongings of daily use; and now I am sending books and papers. “ There are some very interesting things about them. A copy of the * Dream of Gerontius,’ marked throughout by General Gordon’s pencil, and given to my father by Miss Gordon. Some of my father’s endless notebooks, a detailed account of the statuary at Rheims, which he made as a young man, little interesting points about Kent churches, noted down when he was Archbishop, books given him by Queen Victoria, by Bishop Wordsworth, by Dean Church, tho service’ books of many Royal ceremonies ■which he conducted books of devotion, most of bis great collection of hymns, his ‘ Christian Year,’ full of dates and anniversaries, the ilassical volumes, which he took with him on all jailway journeys. Then there are a number of volumes belonging to my elder brother Martin, who died as a brilliant schoolboy at Winchester, many of them diligently inscribed, which my father kept together by him. “ I do not say that these are great treasures; but no one that I have ever known was so full of forceful and vehement life as my father. He preserved everything, because he felt that whatever he was doing was the most important and interesting thing ho had ever had to do; and thus if 1 cun assemble at Truro most of these old records, the time may conic when it will be of almost historical in- , fcgrest to have so many personal details

A LITERARY CORNER,

stored up in the Cathedral of which ho may almost ho called tho founder. “ To-day as I turn over these volumes of my father’s, so characteristically inscribed, so vividly handled, it seems to me almost ridiculous to think of his life having come to any sort of an end in Bawarden Church nearly thirty years ago. Such emotional force, such minute energy seems an entirely indestnictiblo thing. People who regard life dreamily speak and think of death' as though it were partly a disappearance, and partly a term of penal servitude. But when I think of my father’s eager gaiety and of his vivid responsibility, I think -of him as passing through the little darkness of death with something like an impatience of delay, and of his glance across the new horizon of the world that lies beyond and about our own, as more like the delighted amazement that thrills the heart of a child when, he first turns the corner of the sleep lane, and sees spread out before him, league upon league, tho glittering, keen-scented, mysterious sea.” ANATOLE FRANCE’S LIBRARY. “ Anatole France was entirely French in his tastes. Ids instincts, his affections, says the ‘Yorkshire Post-’ ‘Minder tho name of France ho chose to write; and of his aims he once said to a critic, in reply to questions as to the sources of his wide learning: “ ‘ The important thing is not, perhaps, my scientific 'baggage, which is light, but rather the reaction of modern discoveries upon a sensibility formed by long commerce with the gentle, subtle, and human authors of our country.’ He pointed to the old books loading tho shelves of his library. * There are rny sources, lou will find there nothing save great or charming writers who spoke good French —that is to say, who thought clearly. For one cannot exist without the other. I have striven to say as well as'possible, on what I have seen and learnt in mv time, what these fine minds would have said had they seen and learnt the same things.’ ” NOTES. “ My scriptures,” writes John Middleton Murray in ‘ Tho Adclphi,’ “ have been books which tho mystic would not regard as scriptures at nil—'Shakespeare supremely, next perhaps Tchehov and Keats, then Dostoevsky, Neitzschc, Tolstoy, Whitman, Melville. Nor have these menever been authorities to me in tho ordinary sense of the word._ I have found my own experience at various phases of my life ratified in them: that is to say, I had proved their truth, I had known exactly what tin’s or another among them was saying through the strange language of poetry. So I came to trust them where 1 did hot understand.” “ Like Voltaire and Rabelais, it was philanthropic zeal which troth made Anatole France famous and filled his quiver with its most splendid shafts of comedy and wit,” writes Peter E. Wright in the ‘ Evening Standard.’ “In reading him and them it is as well to remember this, for very fixed prejudices prevent us connecting humanitarian impulses with great power of ridicule, and wo should bo all tho better for learning that, in civilised society, laughter is tho most effectual of moral agencies.”

" \Vo only wish that the world were f. 3 interested in current literature as it seems to be in the Lost Books of Livy, ’ says the ‘ London Mercury.’ K Dr Addison’s new book, in two volumes, is now ready. He had been writing it over since he left Mr Lloyd George's Government in tho seclusion of his picturesque Devonshire home, not far from Newton Abbot,” says tho ‘ Manchester Guardian.’ “ There has been same surprise expressed in Conservative quarters that Lord Carson has contributed a preface to a hook written by a man who has now joined the Labor Party. Critics forget, however, tho close friendship that existed between Dr Addison, Mr Bonar Law, and Lord Carson.” “Mr Arnold Lunn has published five short biographies of men who have left the Anglican Church to become Roman Catholics,” says Dean Inge, in the ‘Morning Post.’ “The, form of the essays was perhaps suggested by MrLytton Strachey’s ‘Eminent Victorians,’ and Mr Lnnn’swit and cleverness challenge comparison with that brilliant book. The standpoint is frankly Protestant.”

“During this vacation Oxford has entertained over thirty different societies and conferences—religious, , educational, and industrial —and the Church Congress is tho last and greatest- of -them all,” writes Principal Selbie, in tho ‘ British Weekly.’ “Its delegates have found themselves v3ry much at home in the ancient city, and both, city and university have given them a cordial welcome. Oxford is no longer the hora-c of lost causes, but very wide awake to the needs and problems of tho modern world, both intellectual and spiritual.” In less than eighteen months French literature has lost three great writers— Loti, Barres, and now Anatole France—and of these Anatole France wrote some of tho most perfect pages which exist in the language. The general tendency of the estimates of his character.which were published following his death (wrote a French correspondent) was to describe him as “at the samo time” a pagan and a patriot ; no doctrinaire, in spite of his having dabbled with many forms of political theory; a humane man who hated violence and all extremes, and who, for all his scepticism, had very definite ideals; and an epicurean who,"having no faith in another world, dreamed and longed for something in tho nature of paradise on earth.

Mr Ernest M. Longfellow, in ‘Random Memories,’ expresses the opinion that it is a strange family that does not possess some sign language or mysterious method of intercommunication, convenient, in the present of guests, for the purposes of warning nr admonition. In his recollections of Janies T. Fields, he mentions that 1 iolds was a “ largo man, with a superb curly black beard, a groat raconteur. . . . If ho got a crumb lodged in

Jiis beard bis wife would say ‘Jamie, tiicro is a gazelle in the garden,’ which amused his friends, ami became a housebold expression in our family.” An examination paper upon the characters in John Galsworthy’s books has just been set. Tins may well remind ns of the famous experiment of the same kind which was made by C. S. Calvorley when lie set his examination paper upon ‘Pickwick.’ There were thirty questions. Here is one of them:—“Show that there were at least three times as many fiddlers as harps in Muggleton at the time of the ball at Manor Farm.” The answer to this question is as follows: It is skated in the account of the ball that in a shady bower were the two best fiddles and the only harp in all Mugglcton. If there were two best, there must at least have been a third, and therefore there were at least three times as many fiddles as harps. Such iests make for precision, and should be encouraged. When Calverlcy first set the papers Sir Walter Besant, then a young, man, answered twenty-seven questions out of the thirty.

Owing to the conduct of visitors to the parish church of Boro Ecgis, Dorset (the place called Kingsbere l>v Mr Thomas Hardy in ‘ Toss of the iTUrbervilles ’), (he secretary of Bcrc Eegis .Parochial Church Council has written to the Press threatening to close the church. Motorists with luncheon or tea baskets have been requested to take their meals elsewhere, and women with pet dogs have to be asked to leave them outside the church. The churchyard paths are often littered with coverings of chocolates and cigarettes. The letter ndd« ; “Wp do not wish to dose the church to visitors, but soon there will be no alternative. It has been decided to lock tin; doors at i p.m. on Saturdays for cleaning purposes, and, if necessary, the church w>U ha'l- to be closed permanently, except during hours of service.”

NEW BOOKS MR E. V. LUOAS. ‘Encounters and Diversions’ will he welcomed by those who desire to add to their Lucas collection. This last word can bo used without any reserve, for tho books issued by Mr Lucas’s from his facilo pen now make a lengthy list. ‘Encounters and Diversions ’ (Methuen and Co., Ltd.) consists of essays and episodes along the lino with which Mr Lucas has . made us accustomed. Most of them have i recently appeared in ‘Punch.’ Any idea j that !m has written himself out is quickly dispelled on reading this little book, lie opens with ‘ Tho Sweep,’ which in its way | is a gem. How many persons know that i it is lucky to throw a kiss at a chimney j sweep? Air Lucas proceeds to enlighten | ns on tho subject in his inimitable way. | Ho encounters a sweep of the old school; in a railway carriage. He remarked to the ! author: “I hope that whenever you meet a sweep in tho street you throw a kiss at him.” The author replied in the negative, and asked why it should bo done. “Because it’s lucky,” lie, said. “ Didn t; you know that? When you meet a sweep “on should always throw him a kiss, and! then you have good luck. Don’t you want good "luck?” Thou the sweep gives instances. Ho narrates the case of a beautiful lady. “ Tho lady looked at mo very j liard, and then she stopped' mc._ ‘1 do > believe you are my sweep*’ she said. ‘Do ( you remember my kissing my hand to you 1 one morning early about three years ago?’ | 1 said I did. And it was true. ‘ Well,’ j she said, ‘l’ve been looking for you ever j since. You brought me luck.’ And she j gavo ino a sovereign.” Slight, perhaps, , but the incident as told by Mr Lucas is vastly entertaining. There are a couple ot , dozen or more sketenes, all in tho true \ Lucas vein, which make the little book I a dcsirahifi possession. Mr Lucas lias been so successful with ' his literary sketches, his books of travel, his novels, his anthologies, and his biography and art criticism that it was inevitable that ho should produce something for the stage. In ‘The Same Star,’ a comedy in three acts, Mr Lucas makes his bow as a dramatist. Play reading has become a popular pastime, and tho maker of plays has a chance to-day of appealing to a wider audience than has been tho case in the last half-century. Mr Lucas in choosing the setting for his play has chosen ground with which he is familiar, and with which he has had such remarkable success. Tho scene is tho Royal Regal Hotel, on the seafront of a popular watering place, and the company to whom we are introduced is composed of individuals of a type with which readers of Mr Lucas’s books i have become familiar. The persons of the play include Sir Thomas .Manciple, K.C.1.E., of the India Office, his wife and I daughter Elaine, Mervyn iieriot (in Jove I with Elaine), the proprietor of the Royal ' Regal Hotel, a hall porter and a waiter of , tho old school, and other members of the j staff, as well as vistiors at the hotel, among whom are two. spinster ladies and an unctuous canon and his wile. The action of tho play is brisk and tho dialogue clever and) witty. The love atfair of Mervyn and Elaine forms the basis of the play, j but love-making goes on below as well ns j above stairs, and it is handled by Mr Lucas in the happiest way. Our copy is from the publishers (Methuen and Co.), j UNKNOWN TRIBES AND UNCHARTERED SEAS. ‘Unknown Tribes and Uncharted Seas: | My Voyage to the Unknown,’ is by Lady ; Richmond Brown, F.L.S., F.R.G.S., F.Z.S. It is a book of travel in a re-i slrictcd area in Central America, of which 1 little even yet is known, and it is de-] scribed as a true record of one of the j most perilous journeys ever accomplished j by a woman. This is no exaggeration, for 1 it was only through her amazing courage and powers of endurance that Lady Rich-1 mond Brown faced and overcame the dan- ] gers of navigation among the coral rod's and pursued her journey into a spot so remote that tho Indians there had never before seen a white face. Her companion was Mr F. A. Mitchell Hedges, F.L.S., 1 F.R.G.S., F.Z.S., a traveller of note who] had had much-experience in fishing in the; Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean. His passion is not for the fish that satisfy tho average sportsman, but for giant sharks, sting rays, and red snappers. With rod I and line he lias caught specimens of these ) which have created world records. It i can be imagined, therefore, that a voy-! age with Mr Hodges would bo no common ! adventure. A chance meeting with him in London decided Lady Richmond Brown’s course. He was preparing an expedition for deep-sea research in the Caribbean Sea and tho Pacific off tho Central American coast. Lady Richmond ■ Brown said she would like to take part') in the work. He drew a horrible picture ! of fever, ticks, mosquitoes, hunger, thirst, | and gave a whole category of other dread-; fill possibilities, and indicated as well the! chance of tho expedition not returning, i I but she was not to be deterred. The picture was not overdrawn—quite the reverse, 1 in fact—but Lady Richmond Brown and Mr Hedges did return, after passing through many and great dangers, with a j vivid story and the announcement of a j remarkable discovery. This was the find- I iug of the unknown tribe of Clmcunaquo I Indians, whoso marked Mongolian characteristics, it is claimed, have disturbed tho eixsting theories of the origin of the na- ] tive American population and aroused the ] most intense interest throughout the scion- j tifio world. Reaching tho West Indies, I they remained at Jamaica and Panama for | some time, Mr Hedges occasionally making short expeditions. Then ho announced that ho had received certain information of the existence of a tribe that had never seen a white man for centuries. ’They bought a- twenty-ton yacht, and with a colored engineer and an old native set off on their perilous quest through uncharted seas. They sailed down the Atlantic coast till (hoy reached San Bias. ■ Hero they got news of tho mysterious tribe, and after a long journey up a river and an arduous walk on foot they found the Clmcunaquo Indians. It is an enthral- , ling narrative, not only on account of the achievement of the main object of the expedition, but because the book is crowded with incidents and adventures I that were met on the way. When Lady Richmond Brown and Mr Hedges returned to England they presented to (lie nation the collection, niimbeviiur thousands of objects, which they brought back from the Chncunaquc. The British Museum benefited greatly, and gifts wen also made to Oxford and Cambridge and to museums throughout Great Britain. On their return from tho Chuennaque country, and before returning to England, the intrepid explorers made an exciting trio down the other side of tho coast. Further interest is added to tho record by descriptions of places that have boon made famous in history, such as Porto Bello and Nombro de Dios, and by frequent references to the Conqnistadores. Much information is also given about the various tribes of Indians" that the explorers met, and their disease-stricken condition. Our copy is from the publishers (Duckworth and Co., London).

‘ DOO-S AND MEN.’ This is the tit!© of a book by Mary Anscll. There is very little about men in its pages, but a great deal about dogs, and one cannot help drawing the inference that the authoress subscribes to the dictum; “The more 1 sec of men the more I like dogs.” That, however, is by the way, and it may mot bo warranted. The point is that hero wo have an interesting and humorous account of the lives and characters of the authoress’s four dogs, two of whom are among the most famous dogs in literature—Portlios, the St. Bernard in Barrie’s ‘ The Little White Bird,’ and the black and white Newfoundland, which was the original of tire famous Nana of ‘ Peter Pan. Porthos was the first dog she possessed: then came Lnath, the Newfoundland, and after him Billy, the old English bobtail, ami then Sammy, the son of Billy. The happy lives of those dogs are related with much humor, amd incidentally the authoress gives some glimpses of her own personality. When we consider the great love of the British people for dogs, it is Author curious that there arc so few good

dog books, and this particular book will bo appreciated. Our copy is from the publishers (Duckworth and Co., Condon). CHRISTMASTIDE FARE. BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. Happy children, who to-day have such a variety of delightful books printed for their entertainment. It is a boon also to tlio giver, whoso choice is so wide that his task of making a selection is moiety a matter of a few moments. Books lor children of nil types and of all ages and at prices within the means of everyone are set out in such an array as to cause a. pang of regret to those of mature ycais whose opportunities were so limited. As an example of what is available this Christmas, Messrs Whilcombe and Tombs, Ltd., linvo forwarded to ns a parcel of gift books for children, published by Messrs Cassell and Co.. Ltd. 1 Chums ’ is a large book of 800 odd pages, containing an enormous amount of reading matter. In addition to this it is freely illustrated in black and white, and there are a number of full-page color plates bearing such titles as ‘ Giant Locomotives of the Four British Railway dcisoys of Famous Rugby Football Clubs, ‘Flags of Famous Yacht Clubs/ ‘lnternational Code Signals and Shipping Companies’ Flags,’ and others. There are thirteen serials by the modern writers who ore most popular with boys, and a long way over 100 complete stories on subjects that make an everlasting appeal to tho adventurous and sporting instincts of the British boy. There arc more than 100 special articles on an infinite variety of subjects. Wireless, of course, occupies a prominent place, and simple experiments in_ chemistry and physics, descriptions of inventions, hints on carpentry, gardening, theatricals, conjuring, collecting, the construction of lints and shelters, bells and telephones, and, in fact, everything in which boys take an interest. It is a volume which to any boy must be a source of never-ending interest and usefulness.

‘ The New Zealand Bovs’ Annual’ is well illustrated in color and black and white. It is not, as might be suggested by its name, a hook dealing specially with scenes and subjects intimately connected with, this dominion. The editor takes a wide survey of the field of human adventure. and has made a discriminating choice in the topics ho has chosen. The colored plates alone give some idea of the scope of tho book. The first shows a man in medieval dress lying on the ground. Towering above him is a huge polar bear. A short distance away another man is rushing up with a big knife in his hand. Another picture has these words underneath: “‘So, little insolent English rat!’ hissed Don Sancho. ‘Again you cross my path.’” Tho book contains many stories in which human endurance is tested to the limit, and deeds of bravery arc done according to the traditions of our race. There are hunting experiences, and many perilous adventures on sea and on land in both hemispheres are described by competent writers. A special attraction is a book-length story of adventure by Captain Frank 11. Shaw.

Cassell’s ‘ Children's Annual,’ ‘ 80-peep/ and ‘Tiny Tots’ are for tho little folks, to whom the pageant of life as it begins to pass before them is an untold delight. Wc can imagine the enthusiasm with which a copy of any one of these books will be withdrawn from the Christmas “stocking,” where it has been placed by Santa C'aus. These books are beautifully illustrated and printed, and contain the sort of adventures that appeal to the imaginations of those who are at the stage when the activities of extravagant rabbits, pussy cats, and the feathered and oilier denizens of the farmyard are a constant, joy. The fairies, too, are not forgotten. The publishers have made special efforts in the color printing with marked sncces.=, and rhis adds greatly to the attractiveness of the books. The ‘New Zealand Girls’ Annual’ can bo cordially recommended ns a gift book for girls. "Why it should bo called “New Zeamnd ” is something of a- mystery, since it is printed in London, and there is only one New Zealand story in it: but that makes no detraction from its quality. • The strong points of this particular annual are its stories, its illustrations, ■ and the comparative moderation of its eiz.e, reflected in price. Miss Ethel Talbot is one of the most accomplished of girls’ authors, and die provides a serial in uuok length wiiich Jacns neither mystery nor excitement. But the letterpress is by no means confined to fiction. There are articles, descriptive and informative, on ‘To-day In Uie Holy Land,’ collecting hobbies, telling iiow to make tilings, and on natural history. Four fullpage colored plates reach as high a standard for quality and attractiveness as any wc have seen in such annuals or elsewhere; black and white illustrations are profuse and excellent; paper, binding, and print all leave nothing to be desired; in short, this is a book to rejoice any girl’s heart. “ Have you received your copy of 1 lie year's annual.'” asks the editor in a chat to his readers. “ Yes? Well, what do you think of it f Have I succeeded in carrying out my resolution to give you the beet, and nothing but the best?” To that question there can only be one answer.

‘Jill of the Fourth Form’ (Ward, Lock, and Co., per Whitcombe and Tombs) is a wholesome book, in which the- moral that adorns the tale is not 100 much intruded. Jill Colville is the only child of a well-to-do colonel, the only niece of a wealthy spinster, and the only grandchild of an Australian cattle king. Her mother died at twenty-two from heart and chest troubles. Result, at the ace of fifteen Jill is entirely pampered, .-./obi, and helpless. A child of good instincts, thoughtful beyond her years, she hates her sheltered hie, and longs to go to school. Her father gives way to tier wishes, and she goes throngn with beneficial results. Jill's trials are told in a way that will interval every girl. Lilian Turner's books have an atmosphere that is ' entirely desirab.e, and which should appeal to parents who realise the importance of character building. Another book that will be dear to girls is ' Nieolo Silva, ’ (Ward, Lock, and Co., per “Whitcombe and Tombs). It is by i-jlie! Turner, which is a guarantee that the tone is irreproachable and the book itself suitable for those young girls for whom it is written. The story opens wilh Nicola’s fifteenth birthday. Their home at .Stony Ridge is far out in the Australian backblocks, and the monotonous life is to Nicola inexpressibly dreary. The girl is resentful, and revolt breaks out oil her birthday. Her stern, unbending father imposes a penalty. Tho outcome is quite unexpected, and presently we see Nicola shopping in Sydney. The authoress right through the book shows her intuition and knowledge of girlhood’s dreams and aspirations. The hook ends on Nicola's seventeenth birthday. Two short years, but much happens in that period.

The Bible and Bonk Society. Princes street, have forwarded us some samples from their stock of books, calendars, and Christ'mas cards. In those days when tlie cost of production is so high it is remarkable to find well-hound and clearly-printe: books for young people _ offered at sr small a price. ‘ Beckside Lights,’ by John Ackwnrth, is a continuation of the ‘Gina Shop Chronicle,' Beckside is a small Lap cashirc mill village. At the clog shop the village worthies forgather. The dogger is the ciiief official at the Wesleyan Chapel, and the ruling spirit in the village. Other characters arc Long Ben, Sam Speck, Lige the lloadmender, Jonas Tatlock, Nathan the smith, and Jcltiro the knocker-up. This book is a record of quaint customs and quaint peonle. a we'l-tn’d <■ 'Dick Denver’s Quest’ is the tale of a hunt for treasure overseas. Adventurous Happenings and exciting incidents of the kind that appeal to boys fill the pages of ‘ Dick Denver’s Quest.’ These books are admir- , ably adapted for school libraries as well ns for the family circle.

* PROBLEMS OF LIFE.' A book from the pen of no other than tho reviled L. Trotsky himself is not altogether an unimportant event, even when the world is reeling under a continual bombardment of Socialistic _ and other highly-colored volumes. This is ‘Problems of Life ’ (Methuen and Co., Ltd., London). This title has already adorned quite a number of biological treatises, but the contents are about as original as any sociological tone can ever hope to be. In spite of the fact that the author is still under the delusion that Karl Marx is the ultimate source of light and learning in all matters, tho book is extremely readable, and, wo might say, piquant, Trotsky does not discuss the academic questions involved in conflicting beliefs of Communists and individualists. He takes the matter as settled as far as is concerned, and tho book deals largely with the off oris that Bolshevists have been making in the past few years to surcharge the old culture with tho peculiar variety fostered by the. Soviet propagandists. Whether "or nob their efforts have been entirely successful is a matter of considerable doubt; but one thing that this little book demonstrates is the extreme thoroughness and up-to-dateness of those who have taken upon themselves to establish the Now Jerusalem in Russia. The psychology of mass suggestion has been exploited to its utmost limits, a la pre-war Prussia. Although one feels that an artificial culture is doomed to a dismal failure, human nature being what it is, there can bo no question but that this Russian experiment is absorbingly interesting to the disinterested student of sociolgy, and to such this volume is invaluable. There arc many quaint touches even in this translation, and throughout this protagonist of a “heaven on earth” refers to his opponents very choicely as “ reactionary blockheads.”