of the Cali- fornia Library Association, succinctly reported in "News Notes of California Libraries," Mr. Robert E. Cowan of San Francisco presented a paper on "The Magazines of California." Besides the un- successful ventures that died a very early death, there were "The Pioneer," " Hutchinson's California Magazine," "The Hesperian," and "The California Mountaineer." Soon afterward appeared "The Overland Monthly," made illustrious by Bret Harte's connection with it, and still in existence. Later Cali- fornia magazines, such as "The Land of Sunshine,'" "Out West," " Sunset," and " The Pacific Monthly,' 1913] 249 THE DIAL are surprisingly numerous for a region comparatively sparse in its population, and their quality is credit- able, sometimes even more than that. Many of Cali- fornia's early periodicals and newspapers have passed into utter oblivion because, Mr. Cowan says, "the libraries of early days neglected their opportunities, and at the present time disaffection is not altogether unknown. Much of the material for the history of California has disappeared forever because of the failure of those in responsibility to heed the fine old counsel, carpe diem." Perhaps, however, those in responsibility did heed the counsel, but in a too Horatian sense. A bibliographical study of Cali- fornia magazines will accompany Mr. Cowan's paper when it is printed in the proceedings of the meeting. All or nothing of an author is the rule of a certain class of rigorously thorough readers, and there is something to be said in its favor. Still there is more than a grain of truth in the assertion made by Dr. E. Benjamin Andrews in a recent magazine article on "Education through Reading," that "it is the mark of a great writer to have uttered a good deal of trash." Anyone can easily name, in the works of even his favorite author, certain books or parts of hooks that hardly add to the writer's fame. Who is there that reads with enthusiastic delight Shakespeare's "Pericles," or Scott's "St. Ronan's Well," or Dickens's "Hard Times," or Victor Hugo's long-winded digressions in "Les Miserables," or Browning's "Luria," or Longfellow's "New En- gland Tragedies"? Voluminous writers must inevi- tably leave behind them much work inferior to their best, as they also leave much that is superior to their worst, and it is pure pedantry to insist on going straight through any given author after once beginning him. The mere satisfaction of being able to say that one has read all of Goethe, or Cowper, or Crabbe, or Thackeray, or James Fenimore Cooper, is not worth the labor required to win it, though many there are who read not for present enjoyment, but for the future fancied distinction of having read. President Andrews repeats the story of the young lady who wished to convey the impression of an acquaintance with Shakespeare, but when she was asked if she was familiar with " Romeo and Juliet," answered that she had often read "Romeo," but "Juliet" had always been out when she asked for it at the library. This recalls the utterance of another young lady who, after running over the entries under "Homer"in the card catalogue, proudly declared that she had read all his works except the opera omnia. The bookseller's point of view is one that the librarian ought now and then to try to take, with an effort of the sympathetic imagination, when he find himself inclined to clamor too loudly for a more liberal discount on his purchases. The book- dealer must live, even though some near-sighted buyers of his wares may not see the necessity. In proof of the really considerate treatment accorded to his library customers by the seller of books, listen to what Mr. William B. Clarke, the Boston bibliopole, said to the Massachusetts Library Club at its recent meeting in the halls of Williams Col- lege. His informal, heart-to-heart talk tended to show the exceeding smallness, if not less than noth- ingness, of the profit made on the sale of new books to libraries, as at present conducted. From the spring of 1912 to the spring of 1913 he had kept a careful record of the cost and sale of all books furnished to libraries at the regular library discount of ten per cent on net books and thirty-three and one-third per cent on others, and the final summing up demonstrated "a possible gross profit of .207 per cent against a 28 per cent expense; but as fif- teen and one-half per cent of these books were re- turned, it left a gross profit on library sales for that year of .159 per cent against a 28 per cent expense. Unsalable books increased this loss still more when sold upon the bargain counter." This may not represent a fair average of profits realized, the world over, in supplying libraries with books; but it is certain that these institutions, with many deal- ers bidding for their trade, do receive a not illiberal treatment. . . . Ornate oratory, such as we associate with the names of Burke and Chatham and Patrick Henry and statesmen generally of the eighteenth century, and such as we were wont to select for purposes of declamation in our school days, is not common in these degenerate times of hurry and hustle and hard common-sense. All the more gladly, therefore, do we hail its brief revival in our national legislature, where Representative Gray of Indiana recently re- lieved the tedium of a long summer's dragging de- liberation over important issues with the following poetic effusion: "It has always been my practice to vote against the previous question where there has been no opportunity for full discussion. But this discussion began in the early springtime and has continued during the long, weary months of a torrid summer. The birds have nested and flown with their young; the flowers have bloomed and faded; the harvests have ripened and been garnered in; the beetles are already singing the dirges of a dying year; the fall has come with the sere and yellow leaf of decay, with wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sere; the first breath of winter is upon our cheek to chill us. Looking squarely at my platform pledges to the people, I was ready to voce for the previous question." It need hardly be added that when the vote was taken, after this poetic burst in favor of the motion, it was triumphantly carried. Promiscuous reading, in a sense not usually attached to the phrase, came up for discussion some months ago at a meeting of the North Midland Library Association of England. A paper was read by the city librarian of Peterborough on the question of providing separate reading-rooms for women, and the substance of it was a strong argument for the mingling of the sexes in their use of the public 250 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL library's store of printed matter. Many of the older English libraries and even some of the newer ones have separate rooms for readers of the sex once known in that country as "gentle," but the Peter- borough librarian advocated their abolition for the following five reasons: the recent educational and social advance of women has placed them in a posi- tion where they themselves cease to ask for separate reading-rooms; to provide such rooms where there is little or no demand for them would be an unwar- ranted expenditure; where there are such rooms they contain only papers and magazines peculiarly feminine in tone and character (and hence, pre- sumably, not over-inviting to large numbers of women readers, or remarkably valuable as litera- ture); duplication of other reading matter already available in the general reading-room is in most cases impossible because of the expense involved; and, finally, common reading-rooms for both sexes "tend to promote a better tone, a general raising of the standard of behaviour, and a keener apprecia- tion of the whole institution." The editor of the Baroda "Library Miscellany," commenting on the Peterborough librarian's paper, shows a far keener interest in the question than can be felt outside of India and the East, where the state of women is such that a special reading-room for their use is often necessary if they are to frequent the library at all. Arminius Vambeby, who died September 15 in his eighty-second year, was a romantically interesting character as well as a very learned scholar, a daring explorer, and a prolific writer. Professor of oriental languages at Pesth University, he possessed a variety of learning, had been through a multitude of adven- turous experiences, and was the holder of almost innumerable degrees and honors and society mem- berships, such as are boasted by few occupants of academic chairs. Hermann Bamberger was his German-Jewish name before he Magyarized it into Arminius Vambery. Among his best-known books are "Travels in Central Asia," "History of Bok- hara," "Arminius Vambery: His Life and Adven- tures," "The Coming Struggle for India," "The Story of My Struggles," " Western Culture in Eastern Lands," and works on the literature, languages, and ethnography of Central Asia. He was born in pov- erty and forced to make his own way; by what means he succeeded in doing it is most interestingly told in his own autobiographical writings. Peculiabities of the pat collection of new fiction in public libraries come to our notice from time to time, but thus far it seems to have developed no objectionable traits such as might warrant its dis- continuance. At Redlands, California, as is recorded in the Nineteenth Annual Report of the public library of that city, the original purpose was to let the pay collection include some of the ephemeral, temporarily popular fiction that it was thought undesirable to place permanently on the shelves. But the good people of Redlands did not view this policy with unanimous approval, some of the citizens regarding it as contrary to the intent of a free public library. Consequently it was decided to offer no books to the paying patron that were not also placed at the dis- posal of those unwilling or unable to pay a modest fee for a special privilege. The little incident is strikingly illustrative of certain not too amiable qual- ities in our common human nature. But there is one slightly redeeming feature to its unloveliness: on the Pacific coast the copper cent is all but un- known, so that not even the most rapid reader of a pay-collection novel could escape the necessity of parting with at least five cents for the privilege enjoyed — a difference that would amount to some- thing considerable in the case of a novel-a-day reader. The author of "On the Branch," known in the world of books as "Pierre de Coulevain," but whom the well-informed cataloguer places under "F" as "Mile. Favre de Coulevain," leaves many readers to regret her too-early death. Report avers that she was born in 1845 at Geneva, a suitable birthplace for one of her cosmopolitan tastes and international fame. She was a close observer of manners and customs, as can be seen in such works of hers as "LTle Inconnue," in which persons and things British are subjected to her scrutiny, and "Noblesse Americaine," a title that explains itself. "Eve Victorieuse" and "Sur la Branche" are also among her well-known books. Translations of her chief works have appeared in English, if not also in other languages. From at least one of them, "The Unknown Isle," interesting revelations and hints as to her personal history may be obtained. "On the Branch" (rather perplexing in its title) has proved a popular novel in its English dress—as also in its original French. . . . Minutely subdivided literature is clearly to be found on the shelves of the public library that makes the following announcement in its latest Bul- letin: "The reclassification of the library, which has been going on since last October, divides the books into ten main divisions, each division is then divided into ten sub-divisions, and each sub-division is again divided into ten divisions; making in all some ten thousand different subject headings under which the books are classified. The library con- tains books on all these various subjects. Is there not one subject in which you are especially inter- ested?" Who would have thought that the products of literary inspiration could group themselves so symmetrically in a great army of books divided and sub-divided and sub-sub-divided by a constant divi- sor, ten? And with the increase of specialization in authorship, as in every other industry, will this process of sub-division continue until we have, not ten thousand, but ten times ten thousand little classes of literature, and presently ten times the latter num- ber, and so on ad infinitum"? The brain reels at the thought, and visions arise of mad-houses filled with ex-cataloguers from all over the library world. 1913] 251 THE DIAL THE MODERN ENGLISH NOVEL: SOME TENDENCIES. (Special Correspondence of The Dial.) At the beginning of another publishing season, when the air is darkened with announcements of new books by the recognized concocters of fiction, it is customary for the press of this country to give a kindly word or two to the art of novel-writing. For this is the slack time of the year: most Londoners are out of town, en- joying their autumnal holiday; and there is not much of importance in the way of social or other domestic news. Parliament is up; the Balkan imbroglio, as a topic, has lost interest; Mexico is a long way off. Thus it happens that the hard-worked journalist turns his attention for a moment to matters of lighter import. He has made his annual discovery. Last year he found out that the novel had a tendency to increase in length. For some time an impassioned controversy was carried on as to the proper measure of a modern work of fiction. Should it be eighty thousand words (which had hitherto been regarded as normal), or something over a hundred and fifty thousand', as the Caines and Corellis, the Hichens and Bennetts, appeared to prefer? At length an ingeni- ous writer settled the matter by putting forward the unanswerable dictum that a novel should contain just as many words as were necessary for the adequate treat- ment of the story. Upon this the throng of popular novelists who had been contributing their various views to the discussion went back sadly to their work, wishing that they had thought of this excellent solution them- selves. But I do not know that many of them have acted upon it since. The discovery that has been made this year opens up, perhaps, a more interesting question. It is stated that the love interest is going out of fashion. That is to say, it is taking a secondary place. A well-known publisher comes forward to say that very few novels are submitted to him nowadays in which love, romantic or otherwise, forms the main motive. It is true that there is still, generally, a marriage somewhere in the book, but this no longer stands out as the one and only matter of real importance in the life of the characters concerned. Our novelists, it seems, are beginning to acquire a sense of proportion: they have at last recognized that it may be possible to interest readers in other subjects — in poli- tics, or sociology, or Votes for Women. Their characters may be in love, but they do not waste all their time over it: they have other things to do in the world besides gazing at the moon and sighing for each other. All of which is, no doubt, a considerable step in the right direction. In the higher circles of fiction we may also con- gratulate ourselves upon the gradual extinction of the "happy-ever-after" school. This Victorian formula had a long and prosperous career, but it cannot be denied that it began to exasperate the judicious reader. The fiction monger of that epoch used to conduct his couple to the altar, after innumerable vicissitudes, and leave them there at the close of the last chapter, with the strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding March still ring- ing in their ears, with the tacit assumption that the real business of their lives was now over. It was a formula. The novelist is compelled, by the nature of his craft, to adopt certain conventions, but it is as well that he should change them from time to time. Even in our youth we could never quite believe in this postulate of theirs. It was too obviously at variance with the stern facts of human life. Clearly there were many married couples of our acquaintance whose state of bliss was incomplete. And, though we could not, by the nature of things, know very much about the matter, our minds rebelled against the thought that marriage should descend upon the happy couple like a rosy mist, cutting them off from any further participation in the drama of life. We were convinced that the most interesting period of their career was just beginning. They had only a superficial knowledge of each other's characters. They may have been devotedly attached to the ideals they had formed in their own minds, but we had a shrewd suspicion that these would not survive very long the closer analysis of domestic life. How would she get on with the servants, and how would he behave under the stress of leaking water-pipes and kitchen boilers and the noise of fractious or playful children? Clearly the wedding bells should come at the beginning of the story rather than the close. Briefly put, the above is the substance of the position taken up by our London journal. It touches, as you may perceive, only the fringe of the subject, and it is perhaps not strictly fair in its estimate of our Vic- torian novelists. Some of these adventured, successfully enough, into the post-matrimonial period, — George Eliot, for example, wrote "Middlemarch" more than forty years ago. And, for the rest, a novelist must stop somewhere, — preferably before the anti-climax. If he is out to tell a love story, the wedding of hero and heroine forms a more suitable halting-place than any other. The Victorian formula is not dead. In all probability it will last as long as the art of fiction. But I agree that it is no longer so prevalent as it was. Novelists have shown a tendency for some time to split up into sections; and those who still practice the romantic love story, pure and simple, have dropped to a lower plane in the estimation of critical readers. They still have their stars: some writers in this form, Mr. Charles Garvice, for instance, enjoy as large a sale as many men with more admired reputations. But they appeal, if I may say so without offence, to a less sophisticated circle. From the commercial point of view, it may be argued that this is by far the best circle to address. It is large, and growing: year by year the half-educated mass of the population assists to swell its ranks. We possess in England at the present time a class of readers who have just been admitted to the simpler joys of literature. They are, as yet, easily tired; they do not want anything that makes the slightest demand upon their dormant faculty of reason; they require stories with a sufficiency of exciting interest and as much sen- timent as can be crowded between the covers of a single book. To these the romantic love story, in all its pris- tine simplicity, still makes the strongest appeal, and the enterprising craftsman who gave them anything else would soon find the best of reasons for regretting his temerity. Numerically, the servant girl and the wife of the small tradesman make up the bulk of our novel- readers to-day. And they want Romance and plenty of it: it is for them that our industrious leaders of the paper-covered book market contrive their entrancing stories of noblemen who seek their mates, not in the gilded halls of their peers, but from the flower girls in Piccadilly Circus or from the beggar maidens who wander homeless on the Thames Embankment. It does not concern them that the flower-sellers in the Circus are mostly ladies of a mature age, and that beggar maidens are rarely, if ever, to be fouud on the Embank- ment. Their work has no relation to life as it is: they depict some imaginary fairyland in which the conven- 252 [Oct. 1 THE DIAJ. tions of generations of sentimental predecessors take the place of real facts. Like most trades, this of the fiction-writer discovers a tendency to split up into numerous subdivisions. We still possess a few men who range freely, who seek to make the Universe their province; but the majority select their own little patch, cultivating it with only an occasional incursion into strange fields. Indeed, the practice of novel-writing is now so universally diffused that the only chance for a new man is to specialise,— to make, if possible, a name for himself in some not too crowded enclosure. Thus we have Mr. Arnold Bennett, who has done for the "Five Towns " of Staf- fordshire, the Potteries district, nearly as much as Mr. Thomas Hardy did for his Wessex. We have had Mr. Barrie and Mr. S. R. Crockett, and a host of others in various parts of North Britain; Ireland has been handled by "G. A. Birmingham," Somerville and Ross, Mr. Shan F. Bullock, and a goodly band of ardent Celts; Mr. Eden Phillpotts and Mr. A. T. Quiller-Couch rarely stir from the little sections of Devon and Cornwall that they have respectively marked for their own. Wales and Essex, Yorkshire and the fells of Cumberland,— each possesses one or more capable writers of fiction who confine themselves pretty closely to their own par- ticular districts. And it is not only in locality that we specialize. There is an increasing tendency for our authors to confine themselves to a single subject, or even to a single type of character. Sociology has spread its tentacles, like some gigantic octopus, over all the recent novels of Mr. H. 6. Wells, until there is some danger of the intrusive monster squeezing the life and interest out of his stories. Dr. Conan Doyle appears to have got himself entangled with a group of scientists and sportsmen, seeking adventure after the manner of the somewhat wooden figures created by the late Jules Verne. For a long time Mr. W. J. Locke was infected with the spirit of his Happy Vagabond, just as the author of " Raffles" seemed unable to get away from the society of that gentlemanly burglar. And there are, of course, a whole crowd of more or less capable writers who confine themselves to detective stories, or to melo- dramatic serials for the halfpenny papers, or to some other branch of their art for which they, or their agents, imagine they possess a special aptitude. I say their agents, for it is undoubtedly to these gentlemen that we owe a good deal of this specialization in modern fiction. Let a man once score a success in a story, and it is certain that every effort will be made by his business manager to induce him to work the vein that he has been fortunate enough to strike until there is nothing left. It demands considerable force of char- acter on the part of the author to refuse. From the commercial point of view, it is no doubt a mistake to leave a mine that still promises a good yield; from the artistic standpoint it has often proved a fatal error to begin attempting to repeat a past success. To imitate oneself may be morally more defensible than to imitate others; artistically it is the greater blunder. The public likes to have some idea of the sort of stuff it is going to get for its money. This in itself forms a strong inducement towards specialization. Those of our authors who feel an irresistible inclination to wander from the beaten track, to escape from the groove that the agent or the publisher has marked out for them, can always find means of regaining their liberty. I have been acquainted with more than one novelist who em- ployed pseudonyms when they desired to publish some- thing in a different genre from their usual work. Others, with Mr. Wells and Mr. Arnold Bennett, divide their works into several categories, classifying some of their stories as fantasies or romances instead of novels. It is permissible to cultivate more than one field as long as the boundaries are kept well marked. Perhaps, too, it would be impossible for any one author to do much more than this. The serious novelist, as apart from the simple story-teller, is expected to deal with what he knows: his imagination should at the least have a basis in solid experience; and, though some of us have lived strange lives, we are generally a little at sea when it becomes a question of dealing convincingly with the more violent crimes. Instinctively the author turns to the subjects that he knows best. And of romantic love there is probably no extant writer who does not imagine himself to have sufficient knowledge. Probably it is the most interest- ing, the most illuminating, experience that has ever fallen to his lot. This is why the love story, pure and simple, will never altogether die out. But it is a fact that we handle it with an increasing subtlety — if we wish to get a hearing somewhere else than in the ser- vant8' halU E. H. Lacon Watson. London, September 20, 191S. COMMUNICA TION. THE BRONTE LETTERS. (To the Editor of The Dial.) Base interpretation, reflecting sadly on the life of a great woman, is, I believe, the result of the publication of the Bronte letters in the London "Times." The letters, as I understand, have been construed to disclose the love of a woman for a man who is indifferent to her, — so indifferent that he scribbles vulgar memoranda on her persistent, amorous communications. This unpleas- ant insinuation, so unworthy of Charlotte Bronte, is refuted definitely and finally in "Villette " itself. Char- lotte Bronte never would have offered her love where it was unwelcome; such an act was opposed to her whole theory of life. (And, once for all, in this parenthesis, I disclaim, with the utmost scorn, every speaking suspicion of what are called "warmer feelings." Women do not entertain these "warmer feelings" where, from the commencement, through the whole progress of an ac- quaintance, they have never once been cheated of the couviction that to do so would be to commit a mortal absurdity; nobody ever launches into love unless he has seen or dreamed the rising of Hope's star over Love's troubled waters.) Who could doubt the almost quixotic chastity of the woman who wrote these words ? — "I could not have expressed . . . such thought — such scruple — without risk of exciting a tyrannous self-contempt; of kindling an inward fire of shame so quenchless, and so devouring, that I think it would soon have licked up the very life in my veins." Charlotte Bronte's life was largely mental; she at- tached a significance, " rooted and active," to friendship, its evidences and its tokens; a mere letter from a friend was to her almost as vital as life itself, — a source of inexpressible joy or unutterable woe. "Villette" fur- nishes countless proofs of this fact. Bernard Sobel. Lafayette, Ind., Sept. 22, 1013. 1913.] 253 THE DIAL Uj l«to ioohs. Mr. Saintsbury on the English Novel,.* To ride solitary up the tourney field and ring one's spear in challenge against the Templar's shield,— something like that it is to differ with Mr. Saintsbury in literary matters. Not that he has any of the qualities of Scott's bold, bad champion; but his equipment in criticism is so complete, the mass of critical work behind him so formidable, that the mere blazoning on his tent, the fluttering of his pennon, are enough to keep challengers away. How one pair of eyes could have gathered in the harvest which he has stacked up and pressed down in his "History of Criticism" is beyond our feebler powers to understand. And he displays his acquisi- tions in a way to enhance their value. He is not only in literature, but of it. We would almost rather read Mr. Saintsbury than the authors he writes about; and in a good many cases we admit that is what we have done. There is only one flaw in his panoply. He seems to have had little metaphysical training,— at least, like Arnold himself, he scorns philosophy and bids it begone from the field of criticism, where innate and educated taste is the only guide and director. Well, it is possible to lay a course by the stars and dead reckoning, but the compass is a handy invention. Mr. Saintsbury's new book, "The English Novel," exhibits his immense reading and his gift of reanimating dry bones, as did his " His- tory of Criticism.' It would be interesting to know which course of reading he found most wearisome, — the forgotten or half-forgotten critics of Europe, or the dead or little-read novelists of England. Our first point of quarrel with him is in regard to the position of the novel itself in literature. We quote the words with which he concludes his book: "In the finest of its already existing examples it hardly yields in accomplishment even to poetry; in that great secondary (if secondary) office of all Art—to redress the apparent injustice, and console for the ap- parent unkindness of Nature — to serve as a rest and refreshment between those exactions of life which, though neither unjust nor unkind, are burdensome, it has no equal among all the kinds of Art itself." The second part of this sentence is undoubtedly true as regards human beings to-day; but it is only true, we believe, because there has been a • The English Novel. By George Saintsbury. "Chan- nels of English Literature." New York: E. P. Dntton A Co. general weakening of intellectual fibre, a relax- ation in the power of attention, largely brought about by the excessive use of novels themselves, which have indisposed people for other forms of art, though these intrinsically may have more con- solation and refreshment in them. If we could bring back to life a Greek of the time of Pericles, or even an Englishman of the time of Pope, neither one of them might find much consola- tion or refreshment in the English novel. Pope concentrated a hundred novels in the Satires and Epistles, and a contemporary of his might prefer his portable phrases to the diluted exposi- tion of human nature in the modern novel. It must be remembered that the novel has only been in vogue, been the fashionable form of literature, for a hundred years. The reign of the novel began with "Waverley." Great novels had been written before that, but the form had always been considered a secondary and inferior one. The first part of Mr. Saintsbury's sentence quoted above we should challenge altogether; and we believe that he is too good a critic, too true a judge of literary values, to defend it. There are three things that make literature val- uable,— thought, adequate or beautiful verbal expression, and the creative projection of human figures. Thought is the common possession of all forms of literature. You must have some- thing to say before you can write at all. There is no reason why a novel should not be as pro- found as a philosophical treatise or a great drama or poem. It may be a mere accident that no novel in existence does rank with the great Bibles of the world, or with the "Prometheus," "De Rerum Natura," "Hamlet," or "Faust." In the matter of expression, it is simply ab- surd to compare the very best prose of the very best novels with the verse of the great poets. These last not only have given us a sensuous form, music and sculptured perfection, which always delighted the world, until the flood of novels washed out of its mind the power of ap- preciating distinction, but by their superior con- centration they have made a thousand phrases which have entered into common parlance where the novelists have made one. In creativeness the novel may seem to be more on a level with other forms of literature; but even here the palm is not for it. The great figures of fiction which dominate man's imagi- nation, which have really swayed and moulded his life, are almost exclusively the protagonists of plays or poems. Rama, Rustam, Achilles, Prometheus, Hamlet, Lear, and fifty others,— 254 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL these are kings whose reigns have been not over single countries but over whole continents,whose dominion has lasted not for a few years but for many centuries. The novel in its whole period of existence has projected but one creation that can rank with them—Don Quixote. That it has produced one may be an argument that it can bring forth more ; but until it does so, it is un- wise to claim for it an equality of accomplish- ment with poetry. Secondary characters of great power and charm and beauty the novel has to its credit in vast numbers, but so has poetry and the drama. And these secondary characters of poetry retain a certain superiority. Has any hero of any French novel whatever exercised as much influence over the French mind as the hero of Corneille's play, "Le Cid"? We doubt it. Has any English heroine fascinated as many men or reproduced herself in the moods and manners of as many girls as Shakespeare's Rosalind? We are quite certain that none has. What is a novel? Mr. Saintsbury nowhere definitely defines the genus; but the main pur- pose and most skilfully executed design of his book is to aggrandize one of its species,— the novel of manners as the central type, any aber- ration from which is a falling away from per- fection. Why the novel of manners should be central any more than the comedy of manners is central in the drama, it would be hard to ex- plain. Tragedy, romantic comedy, fantastic comedy, all outrank satirical comedy of con- temporary life. Few critics would place "The School for Scandal" on a level with "King Lear," "The Tempest," or " The Clouds" of Aristophanes. Is there any reason why it should be different in the novel? Neither the name nor the genesis of the novel indicates any such reason. Novel means something new, and presumably startling. The first novel we have, "The Golden Ass " of Apuleius, is a wild and grotesque tale of adventure. The early novels of Spain and Italy were of a similar character, except when they told discreditable tales of domestic life which we can at least hope were not a true reflection of average humanity. The close study of quiet, unexciting contemporary life is really a late arrival in the novel field, and even yet it cannot vie in popularity with other varieties. But Mr. Saintsbury is determined to see in this latter type the hoped-for accomplishment of all that the novel can do. His book is con- structed to make Jane Austen appear the apex of the English novel, up to whom everything previous led, and since whom everything has sloped down towards the abyss. He gives a really magnificent exposition of the art of the eighteenth century novelists, Richardson, Field- ing, Smollett, and Sterne; but he calls them "The Four Wheels,"—meaning, we suppose, the wheels of the chariot which is to bear Jane Austen to triumph. He slurs over Scott, hurries past Dickens, and, what is more surprising, half ignores Thackeray, in order to exalt his favored queen. What is the mystery of Jane Austen's superi- ority? Mr. Saintsbury seems to think that the life she depicts is more normal than that of any other novelist, and that she realizes it better. Now we do not believe that the life of the little coteries of county families which Jane Austen gives us is a particle more normal than the life which Disraeli describes in "Coningsby," or the life which Herman Melville projects in "Typee." There are communities existing in the world to-day that go about like the old Hindoo sect "sky clothed" and eat their dead enemies with innocent gusto, but who certainly consider their lives absolutely normal. Every literary artist must observe and must imagine. The life he deals with must go through the alembic of his brain and suffer a quantitative and qualitative change there. Miss Bates is no more "real" than Meg Merrilies. In her way she is quite as astonishing and as eloquent as the gypsy. Who ever knew a Miss Bates who revealed her character with every word she spoke and never faltered in stroke upon stroke of self- revelation? Jane Austen gives us the concen- trated essence of Miss Bates, and we might have lived with the original twenty years without knowing her as well as we do in an hour's read- ing. But this is the secret of all successful character creation, and Miss Bates is made by the same formula as Justice Shallow, Sir Toby Belch, Parson Adams, Dominie Sampson, and Micawber. The only difference is that she is not as interesting in herself as these others. In two characters, Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine de Burgh, Miss Austen did, by allowing herself a little more exaggeration than usual, achieve veritable triumphs. But what we want to insist on is that all her successful figures are made and modelled as every other good artist has wrought his. All of them ride hobby-horses. Mr. Ben- nett is always the ironical philosopher whose business it is to extract amusement from his wife and daughters. Mr. Woodhouse is always the valitudinarian who invites people to dinner and then advises them not to eat anything. Emma is always the intermeddling angel who 1913] 255 THE DIAL disastrously manages other people's affairs. And so on. There is no new creative method. The fact that the hobby-horses ridden by these am- iable people are rather tame livery hacks, and that they do not prance and caracole like the steeds trotted out by My Uncle Toby, Jonathan Old- buck, Jingle, or Sairey Gamp, does not change the fact of their truth to type. And the fact that Miss Austen has only two preeminently fine creations, whereas Fielding, Scott, and Dickens have twenty, fifty, one hundred; and the further fact that the worlds projected by these novelists are immeasurably larger, nobler, more varied, than Jane Austen's narrow little domain,—all this would seem to negative the idea that she is the culmination and climax of the art of novel- writing. We have no share in the second sight which Mr. Saintsbury as a Scotsman or a dweller in Scotland ought to be gifted with; but we can imagine a great critic of the future, a Mr. Saintsbury of the twenty-first century, writing of this book something as follows: "In the time of this critic there raged all over the world a craze for novels, somewhat analogous to the tulip mania in Holland or the excitement of the South Sea Bubble. Vast prices were paid for these curious and unsubstantial specimens of literature; and the poet, the dramatist, and the thinker were relegated into the background. Especially did the critics of that day dote on the tame studies of ordinary life such as a schoolgirl with no experience could easily turn out. Luckily we have recovered from this lunacy, and the bloated and formless novel- thing has been shown its proper place in litera- ture, while the clear-cut, definite forms of art, the lyric, the narrative poem, and the drama, have come into their own. And the novels of the past, the huge galleons of a vast Armada, lie scattered or sunk around the shores of that fair island of Art, which they started out so proudly to conquer." Charles Leonard Moore. The Game of International Politics.* The running comment on current national and international affairs embodied in the vol- ume entitled "Problems of Power," by Mr. William Morton Fullerton, for several years a correspondent of the London "Times," makes stimulating reading, and leaves no doubt that "Problems of Powkr. A Study of International Pol- itics from Sadowa to Kirk-Kilisst!. By William Morton Fullerton. New York: Charles Seribner's Sons. the author has an intimate knowledge of at least considerable portions of his subject. But though the book is written in an easy style, it will hardly be read by the generality of men because it presupposes a knowledge of modern national and world politics that very few pos- sess. The treatment is by all odds at its best in the portions which deal with the domestic affairs, both political and social, of France. Here the author's knowledge is evidently based on per- sonal observation at close range, and conse- quently what he tells us about the present con- stitution and government of France, and their relation to Clericalism and Reaction on the one hand and Syndicalism and machine politics on the other, is illuminating in the highest degree. Mr. Fullerton has also a good deal to say about other nations and peoples. His remarks about the United States are worthy of especial note. The American, having long since been labelled a dollar-chaser, will be surprised and probably gratified to find that "idealism is the most characteristic note of the American char- acter." However, we do not escape criticism. In repudiating their war debts the Confederate States took a step which is paralleled in our times only by the action of certain Central American States. The American is too much given to sport: his newspapers devote as much space to games as they do to home politics, and infinitely more than they do to foreign politics. Like others, the American is growing irreligi- ous; he is also coming to believe that his fav- orite theory of equal rights has been tried and found wanting. He is realizing, though slowly, that his isolation in international affairs is com- ing to an end, partly as a result of the taking of the Philippines, partly and chiefly in conse- quence of the construction of the Panama Canal. A further result of the latter enterprise will probably be that the American will be forced to conform his favorite principle of the Monroe Doctrine to the Law of Nations. The domestic affairs of the several nations appear in this treatise only to give a basis for the discussion of international relations. Ob- viously one cannot in a few lines give an ade- quate resuml of a study involving a multitude of details. Mr. Fullerton tells us that Germany carried on a highly, almost superhumanly, suc- cessful foreign policy from the time of Bismarck to 1898, "the critical year." In that period she managed to draw Austria and presently Italy into association with her in the form of the Triple Alliance. Consequently she could 256 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL face the French desire for revenge with equan- imity,— indeed, by virtue of her influence at St. Petersburg and of England's policy of "splendid isolation," she was really the dom- inant factor in all international matters. In 1898 her leadership began to be feared and presently contested. France and Russia had already become friendly, the events of the South African War swept England into association with them, and presently the Triple Alliance was confronted with a competent rival in the Triple Entente. Germany, perceiving the dim- inution of her influence under these tendencies, has sought by every device known to diplomacy to disrupt the Triple Entente,— with the con- trary result of solidifying it and seeing her own power decline until it was practically broken by the course of the recent Balkan War. "Kirk-Kilisse marks the end of an epoch, the Bistnarckian, and the beginning of a new era." International affairs, which in general are not as satisfactorily treated as the domestic affairs of France, suffer still further because they are discussed with a considerable bias. Mr. Fullerton is a Germanophobe, and he can find little good proceeding from Berlin. "While France is still, in the conventional way, loyal to the appeal of great principles, respectful of accepted ideals of international law, and of recognized notions of justice, and correspondingly indifferent to the pure material aspects of any problem, . . . Germany, the great modern parvenu power, bereft of all deep-rooted historical traditions, unrestrained by precedent — save that of the original sin of Alsace-Lorraine — has been able to put herself abreast of the time and adopt me- thods best fitted to a period dominated by economic interests. . . . But the British principle that' business is business' has never, even in England, been allowed to become the sole principle of diplomatic action." The rhetoric of these sentences is more correct than their content. There is no less history back of Germany than of France, and their present governments are practically of the same age. And as for the restraint of precedent, it is ludi- crous to suppose that the precedents represented by the policies of France under the Bourbons and Napoleons, or by England's policies in China, South Africa, or Persia—none of which give evidence of being better than German policies—are of a kind to act as a wholesome restraint. If Germany is without such prece- dents she is thrice blessed. This tendency to pronounce the policies of the several nations good or bad according as they harmonize or conflict with England's in- terests runs through the whole volume. For example, Mr. Fullerton tells us that the United States ought to abandon the Monroe Doctrine. But then, being "innocent" in international matters, we ought to avoid being drawn into an alliance with Germany; for if this happened the United States "would have to bear the responsibility of an act which would upset the entire balance of power in Europe, and result in a war involving the interests of the entire population of our planet." "Were the Americans of the United States, in the present state of the world, to succumb to the blandish- ments of Germany, and accept any exclusive arrange- ment with that Power, they would be selling their birth- right, sacrificing the essentials of what has made their history worth anything in the world's annals, and losing their ' lives, their fortune and their sacred honor.'" Horrible, if true! If, however, we withstand the "blandishments" of Germany, which would draw us into an international gang of land- grabbers, and ally ourselves with England and France, we shall secure the peace of the world; "for the only influence in the world capable of putting an end to these predatory methods are the combined forces of the new British Empire, and a self-denying United States and France." (The italics are the reviewer's.) This dictum does not at all agree with England's recent seizure of a "sphere of influence" in Persia,— a high-handed act which makes it apparent that not only France and the United States, but the new British Empire as well, should be "self- denying." Edward B. Krehbiel. William Morris and His Work.* A personality as fascinating as that of William Morris can scarcely fail to attract stu- dents. Indeed, there is warrant, aside from the two books we are about to consider, for the belief that interest in Morris and his thought is steadily increasing. And this is a hopeful sign; for his message is important and ought not to pass unheeded. Mr. John Drinkwater has endeavored to estimate with critical exactitude the poetical achievement of a many-sided artist. His well- written book is in our opinion the most impor- tant contribution that has been made to the criticism of William Morris's poetry, and is, considered by itself, a notable critical work. Perhaps the chief thing he does is to insist, with well-placed emphasis, that Morris, in devoting * William Morris: A Critical Study. By John Drinkwater. With portrait. New York: Mitchell Kennerley. William Morris: A Study in Personality. By Arthur Compton-Rickett. With Introduction by R. B. Cunninghame Graham. With portrait. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co. 1913] 257 THE DIAL himself to art, was not trying to get as far away as possible from an unlovely and detested world, but was by that very devotion doing the best work possible for that world. Thus his writing of poetry was not merely a solace, a kind of evening recreation after the arduous work of the day, but was a necessary part of the day's work, as useful and indispensable as any other labor; and in so treating it, Morris was putting into practice the teaching of his great master Ruskin. Another interesting point which Mr. Drink- water insists upon, though with less success, is that Morris, essentially a narrative poet, had a fine understanding of the essential nature of dramatic poetry, in which chiefly "the develop- ment of character and the progress of idea through the medium of action " are to be shown. "Sir Peter Harpdon's End" at least demon- strates this well; but Mr. Drinkwater is forced to admit that "Love is Enough" is in structure something of a failure, in that Pharamond, "instead of passing swiftly from stage to stage in pursuit of his end and showing us that love is enough, pauses for long periods to tell us that love is enough." In other words, Morris, ex- pressing himself in a somewhat unusual medium, was carried away by the lyrical impulse, and made no strong effort to satisfy rigidly the de- mands of dramatic construction. On the subject of popular heroes Mr. Drink- water has some wise remarks (pp. 106 f.) which deserve to be quoted: "We decorate and honour our soldiers whose business, be it to destroy or to be destroyed, is, in any case, con- nected with destruction; those of our lawyers who are chiefly concerned with restraint and punishment; our politicians who spend their time protecting us from as- saults of neighbours and communities as commercially rapacious as ourselves, or, in their more enlightened moments, in adjusting wrongs that are the dregs in the cup of civilization. The functions of these men may be necessities of society, but they nevertheless apply to the small negative aspect of our state and not the great normal life. It is that which is, rightly, the concern of our creative artists; but our creative artists are not decorated and honoured by the nation as such. . . . Nationally we acclaim the negative and neglect the pos- itive manifestations of man. Morris's art was, implic- itly, a challenge to this temper and a means of escape from it" Our only criticism of this view is that it is not half strongly enough put. America is sadly afflicted with the same disease; her legislators would rather build battleships than universities or museums, and while voting pensions recklessly to the old soldiers, would not give a dime of gov- ernment money to a starving poet or painter or teacher. It is this attitude of mind that we insist should be met by the gospel of Ruskin and Morris. Mr. Drinkwater's book contains a few bad misprints. It was in 1857, not 1875 (p. 46), that Rossetti conceived the scheme of paint- ings for the Union. For "Glance" (p. 98) read "Glauce." For "Hemir" (p. 142) read "Heimir." For "Feurir" (p. 143) read "Fenrir." P. 142,1. 2, read: "and of brother," etc. On p. 189,1.11, does not the writer mean "affect"? Believing that there was still room for a study dealing with the personality of Morris, Mr. Arthur Compton Rickett has essayed to fill the gap. If one is thus led to expect from his volume a new fund of stories or an anecdotal biography, one is sure to be disappointed. Although the author "has sought the firsthand impressions of as many, as possible, of Morris's intimates and acquaintances," he has quoted very few—Sir Philip Burne-Jones, Sir Will- iam Richmond, Mr. Belford Bax, Mr. Watts- Dunton, Walter Crane, Wilfrid Scawen Blunt, and a few others, some anonymous. Nor can it be said that in this respect we get from his book much that is really new. For though it may be true, as he suggests, that "whereas X may see certain traits clearly, Z will see other points more vividly," on the other hand it is to be said that Morris's nature was by no means subtle or difficult to understand; nor was he in any sense like Paul, who sought to be all things to all men. Morris had many interests, and, as some would put it, many talents, all of which he used. His activity brought him into contact with many different types of men; but to all he was much the same — bluff, hearty, hot-tempered, warm- hearted, positive, eager to see his ideas and ideals make headway in the world, a hater of shams, and above all a lover of beauty. It is not sur- prising, therefore, that there is no extraordinary variety in the accounts of him contributed to this volume by his friends. Yet we would not be understood as implying that they are devoid of interest; altogether, the section called "The Manner of Man" gives us a very pleasing ac- count of Morris's personality. In discussing Morris's poetry, Mr. Rickett remarks that "he was not a great poet; for to the great poet rhythmic beauty is the one and inevitable expression of his creative imagina- tion." We shall not insist that Morris was a great poet; but the reason was not, we think, that he expressed himself also in other forms, as painting and design. It is idle to assert that 258 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL because a man can do three things he cannot do one thing supremely well; it is merely a vicious post hoc, propter hoc. If Morris missed the divine spark of the supreme genius, the cause is not, in our opinion, assignable by human judgment. Some have alleged that he was too facile, that he wrote too easily; others have complained of his excessive narrowness; still others, of his sham medievalism. That he was not seriously at fault in any one of these particulars can, we think, be successfully con- tended; yet this is not to assert that his place is with Shakespeare or Homer. Even the Bard of Avon (it is now permitted us to believe) was not impeccable, nor did he always write poetry of supreme loveliness; yet few dispute his su- premacy. Morris himself excelled others in at least some points; Mr. Rickett rightly points out the general clarity, the ease, and the level excellence of his verse, in which he was superior to many of his great predecessors. The least satisfactory chapter in Mr. Rickett's book is that in which he discusses Morris as a craftsman. His account of Morris's activities in design is somewhat bare and meagre. He re- produces, of course, the prospectus of Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co., but says little as to the variety or the extent or the success of their business. We should like to know about some of the churches and other buildings, public or private, which have been enriched by their win- dows or other products; more about the revolu- tion in popular taste which their work effected. Moreover, this chapter needs illustrations, which Miss Cary in her volume fortunately provided. In fact, the work and influence of Morris as a designer, the work in which he gloried, calling himself proudly "a master artisan," has yet to be adequately described. Mr. Rickett is more fortunate in setting forth Morris's views on social reform. Whatever we may think of Socialism, there can be no doubt that Morris presents his noblest aspect when viewed as a teacher of society. Writing ro- mances or toiling at Merton Abbey was far more congenial to him; but he saw that before the beauty he loved could be generally appreciated and sought after, the whole attitude of society must be changed, and competition must give way to cooperation. Competition may be the life of business; but being based essentially on selfishness, it inevitably leads to wrong notions about work and its products. The world has gone so far in the wrong direction that it will take a long time to reconstruct things; and probably some of the notions of the early Socialists will prove utterly unsuited to the coming State; but their fundamental conten- tion seems sound, and we appear to be moving steadily toward its realization. To the popularization of the Socialistic creed Morris undoubtedly contributed much. But it is not as a Socialist that he will be longest remembered, or even as a designer and adorner of our everyday world. When the social abuses against which he strove shall have been forgot- ten, when even the buildings which his art adorned shall have crumbled, men will still, we believe, delight in the tales in which our modern Chaucer set forth with imperishable dignity and grandeur the elemental passions of that romantic world, ever old yet ever new, which was to him so real, so possible that he sought constantly to bring it into actual being — the world of Jason, and Alcestis, and Paris, and Ogier the Dane, and Gudrun, and Sigurd, and Brynhild. As a teller of tales, he stands by himself; and in the long pageant of time the age which produced him can never be put to shame. Clark S. Noethup. Men and Events in Our Early Naval, History.* In narrating in detail the services performed by our cruisers and privateers in the Revolu- tionary War, Mr. Gardner W. Allen has per- formed a patriotic duty. Already favorably known because of his briefer treatises on our naval war with France and with the Barbary Corsairs, the historian follows in this more ambitious work the methods made familiar in those volumes. He relies primarily upon official records, both in this country and in England and France, piecing these out with personal letters and diaries and with extracts from the newspapers of the time, scanty though these last appear to us to-day. But the story as a whole is most impressive,—the more so because the author has included, as far as was possible with existing materials, the operations of the ves- sels sailing as privateers under authority of the several states, outnumbering greatly the ships commissioned by the Continental Congress. Of the outbreak of hostilities in New En- * A Naval History of the American Revolution. By Gardner W. Allen. In two volumes. Illustrated. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co. The Life and Letters of John Paul Jones. By Mrs. Reginald de Koven. In two volumes. Illustrated. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. Oliver Hazard Perry and the Battle of Lake Erie. By James Cooke Mills. Illustrated. Detroit: John Phelps. 1913] 259 THE DIAL gland, from Paul Revere's ride to the evacuation of Boston, every American school-child is made aware. But who knows of the doughty O'Briens and their deeds at Machias, Maine, less than two months after the Concord fight, though there has been a naval vessel ever since to keep their name from forgetfulness? Who has ever heard of the capture of the good ship " Mellish,'' laden with military clothing and stores for Burgoyne's army, and diverted by Captain Jones to the uses of Washington's half-clad forces? Yet the operations of our ships and sailors kept pace with our land operations from the begin- ning of the war to the end, and it was a French fleet that made the victory at Yorktown pos- sible,—even as the Machias incident bespeaks the temper of the colonists quite as much as Lexington, and the loss of the supplies on the "Mellish" aided in bringing about the surren- der at Saratoga. It is in the recital of these seemingly minor events that Mr. Allen s book is chiefly valuable, though of course the stress is rather upon the more sensational and better known deeds of the navy, as chiefly exemplified in the brilliant career of John Paul Jones. Poor as we were in those days, ill-organized as the Congress was for dealing with naval affairs, it is probable that more than two thousand privateers sailed forth under our new flag; and their services were of prime value to the patriot cause,— not only in such affairs as that of the "Mellish," but in causing the British people to exert pressure upon their government to bring the war to a close through the commercial losses they thus sustained and the terror created by the ap- pearance of hostile craft on the very shores of Albion's supposedly inviolable isle. Of the lack of efficiency shown by our gov- ernments, state and national, Mr. Allen speaks briefly and wisely. Had the lessons been learned which are written so largely in our failures during this early period, there would have been no second war of independence necessary to free our ships and sailors from heavy wrongs. For the rest, the book is clearly and unpretentiously written, well printed and indexed, and illus- trated interestingly with scenes and portraits from contemporary sources. Mrs. Reginald de Koven, in leaving the field of fiction for that of accurate historical writing, has in no way allowed her manifest talents as an interpreter of character and as a descriptive writer to lapse, and the result is a welcome relief from the German method which deems everything of value in history, however intrin- sically uninteresting. To deal in the German way with such a hero of romance as John Paul Jones would have been futile, and the reader may well rejoice in Mrs. de Koven's sympathy for the lover Jones proved himself to be, as well as fighter. Her painstaking research, evidences of which abound throughout her two fine octavo volumes, has brought out the romance of Jones's private, no less than of his public, life, so that the work possesses both the fascination of a novel and the serious value of authentic and fully documented history. The historian here has had not only to set forth accurately the facts of Jones's career, but to remove a cloud of doubts and false surmises left from the slipshod work of at least one previ- ous biographer. The portrait drawn is convinc- ingly true; if lacking a little in such qualities of heroism in daily life as we must instinctively feel to be improbable, it gains greatly in human qualities. What strikes the reader most, per- haps, is the tremendous efficiency exhibited by Jones while afloat, and the even profounder effort required to secure ships with which to ex- ercise his manifest talents. A stronger nation would never have allowed such a genius to remain ashore a moment longer than necessity required; as it was, his talents were wasted for months and years, during which he strove in vain to obtain a command, — now from Con- gress, now from the French Crown. It is through the urgencies he was thus forced to display that his character loses much of ro- mantic glamour. Finding himself deprived of one ship after another at the moment when he had demonstrated his superiority over every other American sea-fighter, he was compelled to resort to the methods of an almost remorseless creditor to procure another ship and crew, until it is not too much to say that everything he accomplished was in spite of conditions rather than because of them. Considering the wire- pulling and jealousy he was so persistently engaged in at home and abroad, his contem- poraries are hardly to be blamed for regarding his persistency as a nuisance, contrasted as it was with their own inertia and lack of vital enthusiasm. Notwithstanding the fact that Jones is our one naval hero of the Revolution, the result of all this is that the concluding chapters of Mrs. de Koven's work, dealing with his services to Russia after the close of our war, are the most 260 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL engrossing of the entire book, and the gaps left by earlier biographers and historians are at last completely filled. The reviewer may be par- doned an expression of regret that room was not found for some of the ballads and other literature dealing with John Paul Jones, who is here proved to be himself a poet of sorts,— such pieces as "The Yankee Man-of-War," quite the best naval song of the Revolution, Walt Whitman's "Would you hear of an old- time sea-fight?" taken down from the lips of an ancestor who was with Jones on the "Bon- Homme Richard," as well as more modern verse dealing with the cruise which bore his body back for permanent sepulture in the land of his adoption. As Jones was the chief naval hero of the Revolution, so was Oliver Hazard Perry the foremost figure upon the waters in the second war with Britain; and Mr. James Cooke Mills has done well to devote a well-printed and vera- cious volume to him in this centennial year of his great victory. The story is vividly told, and the author's complete sympathy with so inter- esting a subject adds to its value, — though it sometimes presses historical fact somewhat hard. There was little need, for example, to revive the forgotten tale of Elliott's delinquency on the memorable day that gave the United States the command of Lake Erie, or to pass over in com- plete silence Chauncey's exploit on Lake Ontario, which was needed to round out Perry's victory. Nor should Perry's only less distinguished younger brother, Matthew Calbraith, have re- mained quite unmentioned. But these are errors of omission, no more. It is a deeper matter for regret that someone did not go over Mr. Mills's work and reduce it to ordinary rules of grammar and style. What, for instance, can be made of such a sentence as, "The gunboats were generally armed with a single twenty-four pounder, two of which were stationed off Stonington," or "The frequent up- risings of which the regency was noted," or "The heartrending tragedy of the River Raisin and other localities followed in succession," or the complete confusion of "creditable" with "credible"? Similar examples of carelessness abound, and lead to errors in statement of fact, — as where on page 104 the " Trippe" is said to be commanded by Lieutenant Holdup and on page 145 by Lieutenant Holdup Stevens. Nor should such a book have been published without an index. Wallace Rice. A Great German Socialist and Statesman.* Shortly before the middle of August there died at Zurich the most eminent of contempo- rary German socialists, the sole survivor of the remarkable group of leaders by whom were laid the foundations of the German Social Democ- racy a generation and more ago,— August Ferdinand Bebel. It is a cause for gratulation among students of social and political move- ments that before his death Herr Bebel—the "Red Pope," his adversaries denominated him — committed to writing his recollections of the men and measures of the early days of the German socialist propaganda. There is cause for regret, however, that the Autobiography in which these recollections are recorded was com- pleted (the portion of it, at least, which has reached print) only to the year 1878; although if we are not to have the entire work as pro- jected, the portion which has been printed, dealing as it does with the remoter and more formative period in the Social Democracy's growth, may be assumed to be of the largest interest and value. The career of Bebel was one of continued and inspiring triumph over adversity. The condi- tions surrounding his boyhood were hard and narrow. His father, a non-commissioned officer in the Prussian army, died in 1844, when the boy was but four years old; his mother died nine years later. The rudiments of an education were acquired in a poor-law school at Wetzlar, but at the age of thirteen the youth was thrown entirely upon his own resources and prospect of further schooling had to be abandoned. In 1853 he was apprenticed to a master-turner, and five years later he began tramping about the country as a journeyman. In 1860 he appeared at Leipzig, where steady employment was found and where, in February, 1861, he attended his first public meeting of workingmen and joined his first workingmen's society. In both politics and industry the times were unsettled, and the opportunity afforded a restless spirit such as Bebel to agitate, to argue, and to organize was unlimited. In May, 1863, Lassalle's "Mani- festo," commonly regarded as the starting-point of the German Social Democracy, was published; and shortly afterwards there was formed the General German Labor Union, whose purpose was to make of labor, in accordance with Lassalle's ideas, an organized power in politics. 'My Life. By August Bebel. With portrait. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1913] 261 THE DIAL, Bebel, who from 1863 to 1872 served continu- ously as vice-president of the Leipzig Society for the Promotion of Knowledge among the Work- ing Classes, at first opposed the propaganda for manhood suffrage, on the ground that "the workers were not yet ripe for it," and long held out against the general programme of the Las- salleans. In truth he was not a socialist until, having occasion to read the writings of the Las- salleans in order to combat them, he fell under conviction and was won over. Gradually, how- ever, he became a socialist of the socialists, a universal suffragist, and an outspoken enemy of the entire social order based on capitalism. "I was a Saul," he says, " and became a Paul; and a Paul I have remained even unto the evening of my life, more than ever convinced of the justice of my beliefs; and so I shall remain to the end, as long as my strength is left me." In 1867 Bebel was elected a Labor member of the North German Diet. In 1871 he was chosen to a seat in the newly constituted Reichstag, and, except during one prolonged interval of imprisonment, and during the years 1881-1883, he was at all times thereafter until his death a member of Parliament. From the first he participated actively in debate. He refused to vote the subsidies asked at the be- ginning of the war with France, and he opposed the annexation of Alsace-Lorraine. By his in- dependence of speech and action he, of course, incurred the displeasure of the authorities. In December, 1870, he was imprisoned on a charge of attempted high treason; and in 1872 he was tried and condemned to two years of confinement in a fortress. Released in 1875, he was im- prisoned again for six months in 1877, on a charge of libelling Bismarck. These periods of enforced inactivity, however, but afforded opportunity for reading and study, and the Government appears to have arrived at the conclusion that to add the element of martyr- dom to the sources of power which the man al- ready possessed would be a mistaken policy. At any rate, there was no further interference with his personal freedom. The present volume brings us only to the eve of the attempts on the life of the Emperor in 1878, and the anti-socialistic legislation by which those unfortunate episodes were followed. This was also the year in which there took place the final amalgamation of the several organiza- tions which have entered into the composition of the Social Democratic party, so that it affords a convenient division point in the history of the great movement with which Bebel's name will ever be linked. The writer, in summing up the situation at this point, says: "The play was ready to begin. It was intended to be a tragedy, in the coarse of which the Social Dem- ocratic party was to be sacrificed upon the altar of the monarchical and capitalistic interests. But, as before, it did not 'come off'; we turned the tragedy into a comedy, and the Hercules who came forth to strike us down with his bludgeon was himself laid low after an inglorious ten years' war against the hated enemy, and cumbered the field of battle with his corpse. Whereas in the old days of the Empire the battle-cry of the ad- vancing armies was 'To me, Guelph! To me, Ghib- belline!' it was now 'To me, Bismarck! To me, Social Democrats!'" In style, the narrative is simple and straight- forward ; in substance, it is interesting and often illuminating. It reveals a forceful, intense, yet kindly personality; and it tells a story that no interpreter of modern European affairs can afford to ignore. Especially instructive are the comments which are made upon Bismarck's effort to exploit the interests of labor in the earlier years of his ministry, the intimate char- acterizations of Liebknecht, Schweitzer, and other socialist leaders, and the more or less incidental portrayal of the habits, ideas, and aspirations of the German workingman in the third quarter of the nineteenth century. But there is nothing in the book that is superfluous, little that is even unimportant. Frederic Austin Ogg. The Philosophy of Crime and Punishment.* Gabriel Tarde, whose work on "Penal Philosophy" has recently been translated for the " Modern Crim- inal Science Series," was an ornament of the legal profession, a judge of wide experience, a scholar, a psychologist, and an eminent sociologist'; his writings have stimulated thought in every country on the themes he discussed. First of all, as a criminologist, Tarde is a severe critic of the school of Lombroso, whose disciples have, in Tarde's opinion, over-estimated the import- ance of the inherited physical causes of anti-social conduct. The criminal is not a madman; the insane may injure the person or property of citizens, but they are not responsible for their deeds and should be held in safe custody in a hospital. The notion that the criminal is simply a savage turned loose in * Penal Philosophy. By Gabriel Tarde. Translated by Rapelje Howell. With editorial Preface by Edward Lindsay, and Introduction by Robert H. Ganlt. "Modern Criminal Science Series." Boston: Little, Brown, & Co. Crime and Its Repression. By Gustaf Asehaffen- bnrg. Translated by Adalbert Albrecht. With Preface by Maurice Parmelee and Introduction by Arthnr C. Train. "Modern Criminal Science Series." Boston: Little, Brown, & Co. 262 [Oct. 1 THE DIAJL modern society, an example of atavism, is dissected and rejected. Nor is the offender a degenerate, although degenerates are likely to commit crime. The theory of epilepsy as a constant cause of crim- inality is set aside. It is probable that Tarde has not given due weight to physical defect in this causal series which ends in crime. Many competent ob- servers in all lands have been sure that prisoners are inferior on the average to the group from which they come; and our author himself does not wholly reject this factor. The explanation which, according to Tarde, ac- counts for the most decisive facts is psychological and sociological in character. When we have seg- regated all the imbeciles, epileptics, and lunatics in educational, medical, and custodial colonies, we shall still have to deal with a large body of offenders who are nearly enough normal to be treated as respon- sible for their actions. The most fundamental dis- tinction to be made is that between rural and urban offenders, having as sub-groups violent criminals and thieves. Naturally the distinguished advocate of the theory of imitation, as an explanation of conduct in gen- eral, seeks to apply this theory to the phenomena of crime; and while he may overlook other elements, he certainly makes good use of this unquestioned fact. Since he wrote the book now published all the psychologists have been examining his view of imitation, and their debate still continues. It is interesting to note some of the methods of applying the theory. The vices and crimes of to-day which are found in the lowest orders of the people de- scended to them from above. "Drunk as a lord" is a proverb which is now applied to common in- ebriates, but which points back to the time when nobles vied with each other in feats of drinking. Irreligion is copied from the learned and exalted. Vagabonds are the contemporary representatives of noble pilgrims and ministers of the Middle Ages. Poisoning is now a crime of the illiterate; but once it flourished in palaces. We have professional murderers because the example was set by rich men who hired bravos and assassins. The glorification of war and soldiers bears some of the blame. Aristotle classed brigandage with agriculture and stock-raising as a natural industry available to man for the procuring of his subsistence. Says Tarde: "If we concede to the economists that all wealth which is not acquired as the fruit of labor is the result of plunder, whether brutal or disguised in some manner, we can form an accurate idea of the enormously important part played by crime in the social functions." It would be interesting to have exact references to the orthodox economists who claim that all possessors of wealth who have not come into their possession by their own labor must therefore be plunderers and parasites. The diffi- culty is the one which Robert Burns cites, the power to see ourselves as others see us. "We reproach the savages who poison their arrows, and we ex- haust our brains to devise strange engines of de- struction, grape-shot, torpedoes, which in the twink- ling of an eye can sink the most formidable vessel of war and mow down two hundred thousand men in an hour on a single battlefield." England car- ried on a campaign against the slave trade abroad, while it left its women and children to physical and moral ruin in mine and factory. "There is nothing to equal the progress of our political and military inhumanity, unless it be the depth of its unconsciousness; our newspaper polemics breathe nothing but deadly hatred; instigation to murder, the glorification of assassination, no longer astonish anybody in them. The inroads made by immorality upon morality, by dishonesty upon honesty, are as continuous as they are imperceptible. The tendency, in drawing rooms, seems by preference to be, as we are aware, to go to the extreme limit of respecta- bility, and to strive to extend that limit; so much so that after a certain length of time, in a very lively society, a person can only continue to be respectable by saying the most indecent things possible." In our country these accusations cannot justly be applied to the majority of the wealthy, either to their business standards or to their social inter- course; but there can be no question that idleness in the second generation of inherited wealth, with- out any regulating belief in responsibility for earn- ing income, is producing its natural fruit, and that the example is pernicious. The crowded city, with its excitement, its conflicts, its allurements to excess, furnishes only too many base models for imitation. The city sets an evil example to the rural population, and crime spreads to the country by imitation. Tarde defends the notion of personal responsi- bility against writers of the positive and naturalistic school; but he is a determinist to the core. The con- troversy is an old one, and there is no prospect of its coming to an end in our time. It may have some importance; certainly our author states and defends his system of metaphysics with learning and subtle ingenuity, although most men will watch the debate very much as they do the feats of legerdemain, and go away puzzled and mystified. The point at which we can agree is that a man of sound mind who com- mits crime should be treated in a different way from an insane or feeble-minded person who performs the same act. Moral detestation is not only natural and rational, but it is a necessary part of wholesome re- action against anti-social conduct If burglars and murderers are simply sick men to be pitied and cured, if they are not to be made to feel the reprobation of all right-minded people, we lose one of the most effective weapons of social defense, and one of the most powerful incentives to resist temptation. If it is monstrous to punish an idiot, it is just as monstrous to look upon a base assassin as simply a victim of "brainstorm." "When we shall cease to hate and stigmatize the criminal, crime will multiply." But this does not mean that society is to pursue the object of its just reprobation with eternal punish- ment Wicked and loathsome as he may be, the criminal remains a person, with the rights and the 1913] 263 THE DIAL possibilities of a human being. Sentimentalism has no place either in relief of the indigent or punish- ment of the offender. True charity will be careful to avoid artificial creation of lazy parasites and malingerers. The administration of justice will re- form the guilty man, if this is possible; and, if he is incorrigible, we are wealthy enough to "pay for the luxury of kindness." This kindness will take the form of supporting him to the end of his days, if necessary, at public expense; but he will be deprived of liberty, compelled to live as a celibate, denied the coarse pleasures for which he cares most, and required to work for the daily bread which keeps him alive. More important than all this punitive machinery is the social demand that privileged people spread among the evil-minded minority an example of their own honesty. "To improve the guilty, to civilize bandits, is difficult and costly, and could not be called a good investment of time and money ex- pended. But this is an obligatory extravagance"; it will not pay, but it is duty. What will pay is what Tarde does not fully discuss: a system of pre- ventive and constructive legislation which will make reformatory prisons needless as rapidly as possible; education, training, supervision, and control of neg- lected children and youth until they are all habitu- ated to work which earns a living and to recreations which do not corrupt. In dealing with the "indeterminate sentence," conditional liberation, and the parole system, Tarde is very unsatisfactory. His allusions to American experiments do not reveal any knowledge of the work of our supervision of conditional liberty. This very successful method must therefore not be judged by his fragmentary treatment. At the same time, Tarde does not oppose the tendency to individualize the treatment and to train convicts for liberty during a period of surveillance, and he recommends the principle. "It is thus not while in the cell that the convict can really gradually begin to improve morally; it is only after he has left his cell. . . . Malefactors are game of a particular species, very hard to capture, which no one knows what to do with after it has been captured, and which it is as dangerous to set free as it is embarrassing to keep." Step by step, with vast patience and skill, the per- verted man must be helped to walk in freedom, until law-abiding conduct is second nature and the danger of relapse has been reduced to a minimum. In this immensely difficult task of reforming the morally deformed the supreme factor is a faithful personnel. Almost any system works well with a competent administrator; while the best system fails in the hands of spoilsmen,— incompetent, coarse, brutal, untrained. It is at this point alone that edu- cated men can make themselves felt in the adminis- tration of correctional institutions: they can insist on the merit system of selecting officers by examin- ation, probation, professional training, with security of tenure as long as they give evidence of efficiency. Tarde insists that modern society can supply such men. "Our society is better down below than it is on its surface; it has, like jewel cases, as Joubert would say,' its velvet on the inside.' It ought to be possible to bring together in a prison the worst human brutes and the finest types of men, such men as Cartouche and Vincent de Paul. Let search be made for the latter; in the end they will be found." But they are rarely found by a governor whose prin- cipal and dominant purpose is to get rid of trained officers and to instal, with good salaries, his favorite henchmen, to whom he owes political debts and who mock at the need of education and training. Tarde favors the retention of capital punishment as a means of deterrence and of elimination; but he confesses that the evidence of intimidating influence is unsatisfactory, that the judicial killing of a dozen bad men out of thousands has little value in dimin- ishing their numbers, that statistics are unreliable and impossible to interpret. He does not adequately develop the method of permanent segregation of dangerous criminals through an extension of the "indeterminate sentence " with proper judicial con- trol. In spite of lending his high authority to the retention of capital punishment, the balanced state- ment of the facts may fairly be claimed by aboli- tionists as favorable to their plea. But no instructed abolitionist wishes to do away with this "rudiment" of savage ages without at the same time multiplying and strengthening the measures of social control of all youth who are forming anti-social habits, and of retaining in custody not only all incorrigible criminals but also all degenerates, insane, epileptic, and feeble- minded persons whose progeny are certain to be a perpetual menace to the order of society and to secu- rity of life, property, and morals. By a vigorous and prolonged effort, with the necessary financial invest- ment, we could in a few generations have all the advantages of the natural law of extinction of the unfit without reverting to the cruel methods of nature. "So o'er that art which you say adds to nature la an art which nature makes." The conclusions of Dr. Gustaf Aschaffenburg, as embodied in his volume on "Crime and Its Repres- sion," have long since found numerous advocates in America, and have been embodied, not without pro- test, in the so-called "indeterminate sentence" laws of several states. Yet the eminent author rarely alludes, even faintly, to American examples; per- haps, as another German writer has recently said, because it is unpopular over there to cite the doings of the young Republic. We are not particularly wounded by this slight, for history will do us justice; and the last International Prison Congress recorded in its proceedings a testimony to our influence on the world movement. The eminent author, as a psychiatrist, starts from the basis of experimental science and not from rules established by precedents in an unscientific past. For this reason he is clear and decided where Tarde hesitates and splits hairs. Yet he is not dogmatic in his certainty; he bases his conclusions on a wide 264 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL study of psychology, forensic medicine, and statistics, as well as on the judgments of many others,like him- self, who have had intimate contact with prisoners in correctional institutions. Among the causal factors affecting the kind or quantity of crime are mentioned variations of sea- sons, race, religion, occupation, alcohol, prostitution, gambling, and superstition. Poverty and alcohol- ism are regarded as the chief direct incentives to harmful conduct. Both socialists and prohibitionists may draw powerful weapons from this armory. Among individual factors are considered parentage and training, education, age, sex, domestic status, physical and mental conditions of the offenders. It is noteworthy that this distinguished physician rejects the idea that the criminal has inherited a specific criminal nature. Crime is not a disease. Yet criminals are known to be inferior to ordinary citizens, both physically and mentally, and they often inherit part of their defects. Weakness of body, mind, and will helps to account for the fact that these particular persons yield to the pressure of temptation and fall; once fallen it is difficult to keep them on their feet thereafter. Therefore the protec- tion of society calls for a vigorous and persistent policy of elimination. Those who, immediately after release, go back to theft, burglary, rape, and arson should be kept under an indeterminate sentence, and prevented from injuring others, as is done with the dangerous insane. The short sentence in jail corrupts the harmless offender and does not reform the habitual. Education, economic improvement, and restric- tion of the drink traffic will have considerable value as preventive agencies, especially with youth; but society ought to face the fact that there are many so weak in body and mind that they cannot be trusted with freedom in ordinary competitive life. Eugenic ideas come to light at several points and deserve attention. While Dr. Aschaffenburg is safely behind the most advanced experimental legislation in the United States, his facts, arguments, and eminent authority will greatly reinforce the progressive pol- icy which already has the support of the American Prison Association and of the American Institute of Criminal Law and Criminology, as well as of able representatives in the American Bar Associa- tions. Chables Richmond Henderson. Briefs on New Books. Rambieiin inspiring account of his mental book-land with development, as promoted by the a bookiover. reading of all that is best in ancient and modern literature, is given by Professor Oscar Kuhns in his book entitled "A One-Sided Autobi- ography: Containing the Story of My Intellectual Life" (Eaton & Mains). Preparing himself for college with no teacher to guide his studies, and with only the night hours free for the purpose, Mr. Kuhns was admitted to Wesleyan University with but few conditions, and there pursued, with an enthusiasm now become too rare, the old classical course leading to the bachelor's degree; but he adds a confession of peculiar significance when he says: "Yet I do not think I enjoyed the pure delight of reading in college so much as I did before going there." Berlin, Paris, and other centres of learning were afterward visited, and some of the greatest scholars of the later nineteenth century were listened to with profit. From first to last, however, Mr. Kuhns seems to have been his own best guide in the realm of literature, breaking his own path down through the ages, and ordering his studies after a system of his own. His taste in books is truly catholic, and the range of his reading remarkably wide, while the intimate, personal touch he gives to his talk about his favorites imparts a charm to his chapters such as is not found in every collection of literary essays. Dante is the author he has studied most faithfully, taught to others with the greatest ardor, and read and re-read with the most unfailing enjoyment—which is all in accord with what he says of "that phase of my own nature which is per- haps the deepest of all, a sense of the divine and the spiritual in and over and beyond all things material in life." Of his passion for poetry he says he can- not tell when it began. "Away back in the mist of childhood years I can see that it existed, and amid all the vicissitudes of life it has continued to broaden and deepen, until to-day it seems to include in itself all the charm I have found in music, or the plastic arts, in nature, the joys of home and friends, the beauty of woman, the charm of innocent childhood, and the deeper aspirations of the soul toward the spiritual world." Some graceful lines of his own prefixed to the volume show the author to be himself not lacking in the accomplishment of verse. Greater care in verifying quotations and book-titles (slippery and treacherous things even with the best of mem- ories) would have improved the book; and more vigilant proof-reading would have prevented the occurrence of occasional misprints. A French "Sprawly" is the only word which ettimau of adequately characterizes the volume, Meredith. translated from the French of M. Constantin Photiades, entitled " George Meredith: His Life, Genius, and Teaching" (Scribner). M, Photiades is an enthusiastic admirer of Meredith, and a minute student of the master's works; but he has little critical insight, and still less capacity for synthesis. Fortunately, the book is made up largely of straight narrative, in which the author is facile, and of comment upon citations, in which he is often felicitous. The intervening patches of general criti- cism contain much mere verbiage, which passes now and then into undiscriminating adulation with an amusingly Gallic strain to it. "A Faith on Trial" is characterized as "a magnificent poem of melan- choly"; Mr. Thomas Hardy, because of his touching little elegy on Meredith, becomes "a visionary bathed 1913] 265 THE DIAL in purest rays of light." The chapter on "His Life" is purely factual, though vivacious. That on "His Genius "resolves itself, after a little beating of wings, into a careful and interesting summary, in ninety pages, of "Harry Richmond"; the author's predi- lection for this novel, with its comparatively light and superficial narrative, is quite characteristic. That on His Teaching " is, as might be expected, the most sprawly of all; it tells the English reader nothing that is not better told in already existing books and articles in English. The remaining two chapters are the best. "A Visit to Flint Cottage," apart from its touches of the melodramatic, gives a picture of Meredith which we should not willingly do without. The novelist himself does most of the talking, — on such subjects as Tennyson (whose " In Memoriam " associates itself in the speaker's mind with "psychic crises of young clergymen silently tormented with doubt" but failing not in the end to conform), the English language as a vehicle for poetry, FitzGerald's "Omar," Swinburne, the critics (" each of them is at best but the slave placed near the conqueror to remind him of his mortal condi- tion "), the relationship between his own poetry and prose, the significance of France, etc. These topics are common, of course, in the recently-published Letters of Meredith; but the master's remarks dur- ing this interview are none the less fresh and wel- come. The chapter on "George Meredith's Art" contains some thought-provoking things about the novelist's style. That the defects of this style are due to Meredith's constant attempt "to sift circum- stances, to weigh them with care, and with a result always beneficial to sound judgment and art" is cer- tainly a truer view than that they arose, as a well- known American critic has asserted, from confirmed dilettantism. It is interesting, also, to find a thoughtful French reader maintaining that "thanks to the wizard Meredith, English idiom is emanci- pated"; and that Meredith effected a much-needed "union of English poetry and English prose." A final point must be noted in regard to this uneven book: it exaggerates Meredith's affiliations with the French. The author quite misses the fundamentally Anglo-Saxon trend of his hero's temperament; with the result that Meredith here appears, on the whole, "an ultra-Gallican gentleman "—like Rente's fiance*, at whom he pokes such fine fun, for that very quality, in "Beauchamp'8 Career." Record, of two Mr- Hu8h B-. C- Pollard's volume, journalist!inihi "A Busy Time in Mexico: An land of unrett. Unconventional Record of Mexican Incident" (Duffield), is appropriately named both in title and sub-title. A busy and exciting time the author undoubtedly had; and his record is "unconventional" to the extent of being inaccurate in so many particulars as to create the suspicion that it may be exaggerated in others. It contains, however, some extremely interesting matter that has appeared in no previous volume on Mexico, and its score or more of illustrations are from photographs hitherto unpublished. It describes the personal experiences of the author, who first landed in the state of Chiapas near the Guatemalan fron- tier; and after some time spent in that region pro- ceeded to the City of Mexico, arriving there in time to have his interest awakened in the Madero revolt He then assumed the r6le of correspondent for some American newspapers, was present at several of the skirmishes in the neighborhood of the capital, and finally left the City of Mexico on one of the sections of the train which bore ex-President Diaz to Vera Cruz and into exile. In a postscript writ- ten apparently in London, he describes the assassi- nation of Madero and speculates upon the probable future attitude of the United States toward Mexico. Had the author prepared himself for his visit to Mexico, and for writing a book, by a study of Mex- ican history he would not have slipped into such an error as the following: "Vera Cruz—the rich city of the Holy Cross as Drake termed it" It was Cortez who established the city and named it "La Villa Rica de la Santa Vera Cruz."—Eminently appropriate is the characterization of Mexico in the title of Mr. Henry Baerlein's volume, "Mexico, the Land of Unrest: Being chiefly an Account of what Produced the Outbreak of 1910, together with the Story of the Revolution down to This Day" (Lip- pincott). But the book fails utterly to fulfil the promise of its title-page,— much to the disappoint- ment of the reader eager to know something of "what produced the outbreak of 1910," and i'the story of the revolution down to this day." In the first place, the author's English is at fault, and his style is cryptic. This may be due to the influence of his mother tongue; but whatever the cause, the reader may toil through some of his paragraphs, extending over six or seven pages and skipping from one subject to another, and arrive at the end with a confused feeling as to what it is all about. The author's position is distinctly anti-Diaz, and he is hopelessly committed to the previously-pub- lished accounts of the slavery in Yucatan and the inhumanity of Diaz. But the character of the book is little improved by the reproduction of crude car- icatures from Mexican papers, or by the author's chapter entitled "Diaz at the Door of Hell," which reads like an undergraduate skit in a college annual. It should be said that the book contains a fine map of Mexico folded within a pocket attached to the front cover, and a very good collection of illustra- tions (excepting the caricatures above mentioned). The appendices contain a useful glossary of Spanish- American terms and some interesting notes on the native languages. Germany is preeminently the land of in%"™nym socialism. At the general elections of 1912 more than four and a quarter million votes were cast for socialist candidates, and one hundred and ten of these candidates were re- turned to seats in the Reichstag. This, however, tells but a part of the story. It is true that a large 266 [Oct. 1 THE DIAL proportion of those who vote for socialist candidates are not full-fledged socialists, and furthermore, that the socialist party as such has never yet been strong enough to enact a law or to assume an active share in the administrative system. But on the other hand it is to be observed that the socialism of the "reds" does not occupy the field alone. There is also the socialism of the crown, more restrained and less com- prehensive, but just as truly socialism; and through- out a generation this monarchical, or state, socialism has been carrying the Empire step by step in the very direction in which the "reds" would have it go. The pace is not swift, but it is seemingly sure. German state socialism, as it is familiarly known, came into being in the day s of Bismarck and comprised from the outset a programme of state ownership and other state enterprise intended to alleviate social distress, to promote public prosperity, and thereby to cut the ground from under the feet of the Marxians, Rodbertians, and other extremists. Its protagonists were Wagner, Schmoller, Schaeffle, and Schonberg, and its first great convert was the Iron Chancellor himself. Already in a number of the German states the principle of the public ownership and control of railways, mines, and other utilities had found appli- cation; and beginning with the enactment of the sickness and accident insurance laws of 1883 and 1884, the Empire, under Bismarck's guidance, em- barked upon a cautious but far-reaching programme of socialistic operations. In a modest and well- wriften volume entitled "Monarchical Socialism in Germany " (Scribner), Mr. Elmer Roberts describes the progress and present status of this programme. He shows what has been done in respect to the state control of railways and other public utilities, the development of labor exchanges and the remedying of unemployment, the taxation of land, the regula- tion of trusts, the upbuilding of the navy, and a number of other matters, and he predicts the con- tinued advance of Germany along the pathway thus marked out. The impression, indeed, is left with the reader that, in the main, the notable prosperity of the German people to-day is attributable to the following of this course — an impression quite the contrary of that to be obtained from Mr. Price Collier's recent book, "Germany and the Germans." Mr. Roberts has long been a representative of the Associated Press in Germany, and he writes out of a considerable fulness of experience and observation. The trend Under the title, "French Prophets of religion of Yesterday " (Appleton), Professor in France. Albert L. Gu^rard of Stanford Uni- versity has written a most dispassionate and objective history of French religious and philosophic thought during the Second Empire, from the standpoint of its contribution to the solution of the religious ques- tion in France to-day. And as the question now being faced in France is, in an acute form, the same that America will face to-morrow, and that England is already beginning to face, the valuable lessons of the book have much more than a merely national significance. The four main strands of progress during the era before the new scientific spirit irra- diated thought were Catholicism, with its literary analogue in Romanticism and its travesties in the various cults of evil; Protestantism, which never had a chance in France because it could only make a wide enough separation from the authority of Catholicism to fall into the other extreme of Free Thought and again be lost; Voltairianism, which is spiritually barren; and Humanitarianism, which is only a spasmodic faith mediated by social and polit- ical crises, and which is powerless as an every-day guide to the best living. The author traces these faiths and their failings, exhibits the work of such critics of their tendencies as Renan, and shows pretty conclusively that Modernism within the Catholic church, the present-day hope of so many thinkers, is an impossible solution of th,e difficulty because it is at the outset simply a contradiction in terms. "Shall we close this review on a discord?" he asks, after showing that supernaturalism is out of the purview of rational speculation, and that naturalism alone is not a religion but merely descriptive in its function. And he can only answer that question by emphasizing the fact that both supernaturalism and naturalism point to the aspirations of man. And that man has aspirations and ever strives to live by them, is, in this day of criticism and doubt, the only solid fact to which the religious inquirer may cling with any degree of certainty and comfort. Thetiorv Careful study of a fascinating sub- o/an old ject is manifest in Mr. Hilaire Bel- Romanroad. ioc'g monograph on "The Stane Street" (Dutton), in which he presents, first, some general considerations on Roman roads in Britain, then takes up "the particular case of the Stane Street," the general line of the road and its four divisions or "limbs," the camps or "mansiones" along its course, its historical character, and the modern divergences from the ancient highway; next follows a discussion of certain details in suc- cessive sections of the road; and, finally, there are appended notes, a folding map, and a full index. Sketch maps in abundance are printed with the text, and landscape drawings, some of them of much beauty, are furnished by Mr. William Hyde. Stane Street ran from Chichester to London, or, more specifically, to London Bridge, and the prob- able method by which it was surveyed, with the conjecturable reasons of its occasional deflections from a straight line, afford matter for research and surmise of an interesting sort Mr. Belloc handles his theme with skill and learning, and it is a pleasure to follow his argument and to ac- company him in his journey over the historic road, much of which still appears to be in use, as a modern macadamized thoroughfare, with certain stretches not yet brought up to date. In his zeal to acknowledge English indebtedness to the con- quering Roman, he goes rather too far when he asserts that it is impossible "to prove one institu- 1913] 267 THE DIAL tion or one inherited handling of material things to have descended to us from the outer barbar- ism," that is, from non-Roman origins. Surely our daily speech is full of Anglo-Saxon words in- dicating the inheritance of both institutions (take merely the terms home, wedlock, king, earl, knight) and of the handling of material things (as borne witness to by such agricultural terms as plough, hoe, rake, thresh, winnow) from sources other than Roman and older than the Roman occupation of Britain or the extension of the Roman dominion beyond the Alps. However, we would not quarrel with the author's enthusiasm for his chosen theme, since to it the book owes its charm as literature. The recent Mr- Fre. We can get you any book ever published. Please state wants. Catalogue free. BAKER'S GREAT BOOK SHOP, 14-16 Bright St., Bieminqham, Kno. BOOKS We can supply any book on any subject. Over 1,000,000 volumes in stock in strictly classified order. Second-hand at Half Price. New 25% discount. Send for List No. 786 post free, and state wants. Books bought — best prices given. W. & G. FOYLE, 121-123 Charing Cross Road LONDON, ENG. C. Books mailed any- where — post free — upon receipt of publisher's price. C. By patronizing me you will save more than I make. C. Pennies make dollars: you save the postage, I gain the sale. LANDMARK'S POUCHKEEPSIE, N. Y. Out of Print Books Autograph Letters First Editions Mr. Ernest Dressel North desires to inform his friends, customers, and the book-buying public that he has a large stock of rare second-hand books and autograph letters constantly on hand. He is always ready to buy or sell such, and to correspond with librarians, collectors, and booksellers regarding these specialties. The Book-Lover's Quarterly: $1.00 a year ERNEST DRESSEL NORTH 4 East Thirty-ninth Street NEW YORK CITY and Noble. 31-33-35 Weal 15th St., N. Y. City. Write for Catalogue. THE DIAL a SenmilRoritfjIg Journal of ILtterarg fiTrtttrigm, ©iscuaaion, anti Information, THE DIAL (founded in 1880) is published on the 1st and 16th of each month. Tzbms or Bubscbiption, 82. a year in advance, postage prepaid in the United States and Mexico; Foreign and Canadian postage .rtO cents per year extra. Remittances should be by check, or by express or postal order, payable to THE DIAL COMPANY. Unless otherwise ordered, subscriptions will begin with the. current number. When no direct request to discontinue at expiration of sub- scription is received, it is assumed that a continuance of ike subscription is desired. Aovebtuung Rates furnished on application. All com- munications should be addressed to THE DIAL, Fine Arts Building, Chicago. Entered as Second-Class Hatter October 8, 1892, at the Post Office at Chicago, Illinois, under Act ol March 3, 1879. Nc. 656. OCTOBER 16, 1913. Vol. LV. ■ Contents. PAGE A FAMOUS VICTORY 291 THE AUTHOR OF " EREWHON." Charles Leonard Moore 293 CASUAL COMMENT 295 Genius in the treadmill. —Linguistic vandalism.— Two views of Plato. — Library lessons for the pub- lic—The first Rollo book.—The Heger-Brontfe- correspondence. — " The three best foods for fancy." — Juvenilized science. — Deafness to the call of Italian culture. — The literature of special libraries. — Futile literary industry. — An emperor's books. COMMUNICATIONS 298 Alphonso Gerald Newcomer. Kaymond Macdonald Alden. In Memory of Professor Newcomer. Edgar Lee Masters. Indian Censorship. Erving Winslow. A POET IN EPISTOLARY MOOD. Percy F. Bicknell :t00 THE PIVOTAL PERIOD OF THE CIVIL WAR. William E. Dodd 301 JANE AUSTEN'S HOME LIFE. W. E. Simonds . 303 BYZANTINE AND ROMANESQUE ARCHITECT- URE. Sidney Fiske Kimball 306 DIVERSE ASPECTS OF BOTANY. T. D. A. Cockerell . . , 307 Oliver's Makers of British Botany. — Ganong's The Living Plant. — Knight and Step's Popular Botany. BRIEFS ON NEW BOOKS 309 An appraisal of the Nietzschean philosophy. — More pages from the diary of Lady Shelley. — Further letters of a restless man of leisure. —The abode of gentle mirth and tranquil thoughts. — Some fresh chronicles of the Regency. — An English statesman and gentleman. — The ill-fated son of Napoleon HI. — The perennial problem of the boy. — An out-of- the-way corner of Canada. BRIEFER MENTION 312 NOTES 313 LIST OF NEW BOOKS 314 A FAMOUS VICTORY. The enactment of the new tariff law, which went into effect on an early day in the present month, may fairly be described as a famous victory—a victory for the forces that are assail- ing the citadel of corruption and special privi- lege. Even little Peterkin could be made to understand the reasons why it deserves this title. We can share to the full in the exultation felt by President Wilson in the solemn moment when he affixed his signature to the act, saying, as he did so: "I feel a peculiar pleasure in what I have just done by way of taking part in the completion of a great piece of business. It is a pleasure which is hard to express in words which are adequate to express the feeling; because the feeling that I have is that we have done the rank and file of the people of this country a great sendee. I have a feeling of profound gratitude that, working with the splendid men who have carried this thing through with studious attention and doing justice all around, I should have had part in serving the people of this country as we have been striving to serve them ever since I can remember." It is, indeed, "a great piece of business " to have dealt such a body blow to the intrenched inter- ests that have so long set the common welfare at defiance, and, with the rancid patriotism and nauseous hypocrisy of their defence of an inde- fensible system, have for so long made the worse appear the better reason to the muddled public intelligence. Of a truth, the plea for protec- tionism is revolting to the trained mind, and the shifts to which its advocates have been reduced in recent years have provided a startling object- lesson of the tenacity of irrationalism. There never were but two arguments in its favor hav- ing about them a shred of logical respectability — the infant industry argument, and the argu- ment that a country should be self-sustaining in the necessaries of existence—and both of these have been so ludicrously inapplicable to our practice of protectionism during the last half- century that its hardened defenders have been almost ashamed to use them. Instead of them, we have had the pauper labor argument, and the bread line argument, and the dumping argument, and the cheap man argument, and the foreigner- pays-the-tax argument, all of them so ineffably silly that they have strained the enormous capa- city of the ordinary mind to be humbugged. Now, at least, the air is partly cleared, and 292 [Oct. 16 THE DIAL a large share of the ill-gotten gains which the beneficiaries of the old vicious system have been pocketing under the sanction of law has been turned back into the channels of competitive industry, and the injured fill our ears with dismal prophesyings. But we must not forget, in all our satisfaction about what has been accomplished, that the victory is by no means complete, and must be regarded as only a first step — although a long one—toward the desired goal. The new tariff law is still a highly pro- tective measure, and its schedules contain many duties that our daughters of the horse-leech in the days before the Civil War would have re- garded as higher than there was any use in demanding. A tariff law that continues to tax any foreign products (except luxuries) fifty per cent and upwards is by no means a matter for unqualified self-congratulation on the part of the consumer, who may still indignantly ask: "Why should the law force me to buy from the domestic producer something which I want, and pay him this enormous tribute, when it is offered me elsewhere at a reasonable price?" The question is insistent, and will not down; it is a question quite as pertinent under the new law as it was under the outrageous provisions of the old one. All we have thus far done has been to make a sort of compromise between the social- istic policy of protectionism and the policy of taxation which takes into account only the principles of equitable incidence and adequate revenue, and between these policies a lasting compromise is no more possible than between darkness and light, or between evil and good. There are certain tariff matters with which a journal like ours is especially concerned which loom much larger in the consciousness than their political or financial importance would warrant. As citizens of the republic, we are concerned with such things as the cotton and woollen and lumber schedules; as conductors of a journal having for its special field the interests of culture, we are much more largely concerned with such matters as the tariff on books and works of art, and with the provisions that affect the comfort of returning travellers. We have called the tariff on books the meanest of taxes, and we deeply regret that it will continue to retard the progress of education and culture. The Presi- dent cannot be held guiltless of the perpetuation of this enormity, for no one can doubt that the firmness which he displayed in his demand for free wool and free sugar could have obtained for us free books without the least difficulty. And there is a sense in which free books are more important than either free wool or free sugar. That they are withheld is a fact that has about it a shameful and humiliating quality that does not attach to an unjustifiable tax upon a merely commercial product. If a President who stands for scholarship more distinctly than any we have had since the early Virginian dy- nasty can fail us so lamentably, the case seems indeed hopeless. It is true that, after an ener- getic protest, the indecent attempt to take books in foreign languages from the free list has been abandoned, that English Bibles and text-books are now admitted free, and that the tax on En- glish books in general has been reduced from twenty-five to fifteen per cent, but these are only palliations of a grievous offence. A tax of one per cent upon them would be almost as obnox- ious as the higher one now in force, because any tax at all means that an English book cannot be sent to an American scholar by post without being held up at the custom-house, and this fact, far rather than the increased price, is the head and front of the offending. As for books imported by booksellers, the lowered tax means a possible lowering of the price by two cents in the shilling, and we may be fairly sure that the individual purchaser will not get even that small benefit. The victory of the forces that have been de- manding untaxed works of art is indeed a no- table one. The opposition to this enlightened measure was of so unreasoning and pigheaded a description that it seemed hopeless to seek to overcome it. But the hopeless was accom- plished, thanks to the strong concerted attack made upon this proposed monstrosity of taxa- tion. At the risk of seeming to be engaged in the unnecessary task of slaying the slain, we will make the following quotations from the brief of Mr. John Quinn, acting as counsel for the American artists in their demand not to be protected by an over-zealous government: "The art of every age is the flowering of all the sci- entific and all the philosophic thought of its own day and time. It quickens vitality and intensifies the love of beauty and increases the joy of life. The plea that I make for free contemporary fine art is a plea that art may be brought within the reach of people of modest means and not remain the trading commodity of wealthy art-dealers or become merely the hobby or the exclusive possession of the rich." "As was pointed out in my brief, we are the only or substantially the only civilized country that taxes art. We spend hundreds of thousands and even millions on museums, art galleries, art commissions, municipal, state and national, and yet the Finance Committee of the Senate proposes to erect a Chinese wall fifty feet high against the importation of modern, vital, living, creative art." "It is an absurdity to argue that art is merely a 1913] 293 THE DIAL luxury. It is a degradation to treat it as though it were something like opium or a drug or an adulterated food or like a contagious disease, and it is uncivilized and reactionary to consider it merely as a means of raising a little revenue, as if it were leather or wool or machinery or tobacco or bananas or cotton goods or like any other articles of utility that need 'protection1 or afford a chance to raise a little revenue from." Even our benighted senatorial law-makers had to yield to such persuasions as these, and with respect to our national attitude toward art we may now at last be reckoned among the civil- ized countries. But we still belong with the barbarians in the matter of books, and in the matter of those tariff provisions which now make the return from abroad a terror to every American traveller. No American who has ever learned by personal experience the contrast between the treatment of the tourist in Euro- pean and American custom-houses has not blushed for his country; and if the numbers of such returning tourists were only large enough, we should not long have to endure an admin- istrative system which regards every one of them as an object of suspicion, and which re- quires, in addition to a personal declaration of innocence, an inquisitive investigation to deter- mine the truth of that declaration. THE AUTHOR OF «EREWHON." Is there any certain recipe for contemporary reputation? Catching on to coat-tails is as good a counsel as any. It is as valuable for the catchee as for the catcher; for if enough people of parts can be induced to form a train, their light, singly perhaps indiscernable, may together flare out in our sky like a comet which " fires the length of Ophiuchus huge." Such a combination of brillancies is not only pardon- able but laudable. Meier-Graefe said that the Pre- Raphaelite movement in England was a criminal conspiracy. But this is shooting way beyond the mark. Natural sympathy caused the members of the group to gravitate together, and they did a needed work. Only, for awhile, their preoccupation with themselves, the flood of books and articles which they poured forth about each other, threw everything else in England into obscurity. The movement was not really the central fact of the time, but it had the appearance of being so; and other great names or great issues were eclipsed. The pioneers, the originators among men, have, however, usually a solitary lot. Luck, or just hitting the right moment, may sometimes get them an imme- diate following; but more often theirs is a lonely fight with the world. Like Winkelried, they must gather the spears of the Philistines into their breasts in order to make a way for the Children of Light. And too often those who follow them into the breach are pseudo Children of Light,—Children of Light for revenue only, who give an additional stab to the leader who has made their victory possible. But when such a leader is comfortably dead, then his struggle and his obscurity are at an end. He is treasure trove for the whole world. A few explorers discover him at first, and they bring back and exhibit the nuggets of rich ore in which his work abounded. Then there is a Klondike rush to his "diggings," as there was not long ago to Nietzsche. The recently published "Note Books" of Samuel Butler show plainly enough that their writer died in the modest assurance that he was of this order of men, and would, intellectually, "cut up rich." This interesting miscellany of fragments, notes, diaries, essays, bears a striking resemblance to the "Parerga" of Schopenhauer. There is the same solitary attitude of disdain for his contemporaries, and very much the same views of life, death, genius, and greatness. Unfortunately, Schopenhauer came first, and the massy brilliancy of his prose is beyond anything the Englishman has achieved. "Can you emit sparks?" is the first question we ask of a writer of this kind. Unquestionably Butler can and does emit sparks; but compared with the broad, vigorous flashes of Schopenhauer, they are small and dim. His ideas resemble the older man's as the second infusion of tea-leaves in the pot resembles the first brew. Or his mind might be compared to a sieve into which all the thoughts of his great contemporaries in science and philosophy have been poured: the lesser thoughts get through and into his books, but the larger ones remain behind unused. We may adopt what attitude we please towards Schopenhauer and Nietzsche: we may call the first the Apostle of Gloom and the sec- ond the Prophet of Unrighteousness; but the fact remains that they startle, astound, and wake us up. They are capable of giving the world those electric shocks that resurrect it Butler's battery of magnetic truths is only a respectable one, and we think that in England alone there are several of his contem- poraries who surpass him in novelty and force of opinion. In science his study of heredity and habit may have more originality than we can see in it when considered along with the investigations of Darwin, Galton, and Von Hartmann; but it is certainly not epoch-making. Butler indulged himself in a number of opinions which can hardly be called anything but crochets. One of these was that the English school of music is the finest in the world, and that Handel is not only the greatest of all musicians, but the greatest man who has ever worked in any of the arts. That is a question of taste; and if a person chooses to have a taste of that kind there is nothing more to say ex- cept that he is not likely to be of a prevailing party. Another of his crochets was that the Odyssey was written by a woman. That is a question of fact; and as there are no facts adducible to prove it, and all tradition and the acceptance of ages being against it, the theory must be waved aside. Again and again, in his " Note Books" and else- 294 [Oct. 16 THE DIAL where, Butler shows himself sensitive to the charge of being a man of one book. "Erewhon" was the one success of his career, and it came early. That he could have repeated this success and won contem- porary literary fame is probable; but be branched off into painting, music, and other kinds of achievement Towards the end of his life he essayed the modern novel of manners in "The Way of All Flesh." This, however, was published posthumously, and any vogue it may have had came too late to console him. There were undoubtedly in his character a lofty indifference to practical results and a high disdain of literary quackery. But there was also a lack of verve and flow and continuity, which explains the scantiness of his product and the paucity of his repute. Mr. George Bernard Shaw suggests that "The Way of All Flesh" is a masterpiece. It is not neces- sary to state, therefore, that it belongs to the school of fiction which holds up life by the tail, like a strug- gling puppy, and not to the school which places life on a pedestal for study and admiration. This school might be called that of the Dropped Veil, for it prides itself on tearing away all illusion from existence. As most of the great philosophies of the world main- tain that all existence is illusion, this kind of fiction cannot have a very sound philosophical basis. Most of us hug our illusions, and get enough interest and amusement out of life to make us want to live. But the new fiction preaches to us that it would have been money in our pockets if we had never been born. It is not that it deals with more forbidden material than the older fiction, with worse vices and crimes, with more terrible outlooks upon time and eternity. That would be an impossible feat, for all the secrets of evil have long been embodied in immortal verse and prose. But the new fiction goes about its work of being bad in a hard didactic way, which, though it convinces us that the Devil is dull and Evil is only another word for ennui, makes its novels and plays as repulsive as tracts, and kills all joy in us. The joy of festival and the joy of battle, the delight of the senses and the heroism of the soul,—these surely are the things that literature should convey to us and convince us of. With the best will in the world to be what they call brutally true, the new fictionists are continually having to make concessions to romanticism. The whole plot of "The Way of All Flesh" is an instance of this. It bears a distant resemblance to the plot of "Wilhelm Meister." In both books the hero is set loose to flounder about in the world, get into bad company, and fall into evil ways. In " Wilhelm Meister" there is a certain College of Guardians which watches and directs Wilhelm's course unknown to him, and only lets him out as it were on a leash. In Butler's book this business is assumed by an older relative, who holds a large fortune secretly in trust for the hero, and who steers him through his misadventures. Of course this is playing the game of realism with loaded dice. It is making Achilles invulnerable, and then patting him on the back for being brave. Butler's hard, tight style prevents his portraits from having much literary lure; but in one char- acter, a reincarnation of Mrs. Quickly, he nearly arrives at a creation. The girl Ellen is painted in hard, bright colors; but as we have spoken of *' Wilhelm Meister" we may compare her with Philina, in order to see how charm and mystery and illusion are needed to make anything that is living. Mr. Pontifex, the hero's father, is almost the raison d'itre of the book; but he bores us as much as he did his son. As a clergyman he is not as prepos- terous as Mr. Collins; as a father he is not more erring than Mr. Bennet; but whereas custom can- not stale the infinite variety of Jane Austen's men, we have not the patience to read Mr. Pontifex's record through. So, in the end, to explain Butler's confidence in his immortality, and the importance his disciples seem to attach to him, we are driven back to the book which the world did in some measure accept. The central idea of "Erewhon," that of a country where human nature runs on different lines than it does with us, is of course as old as literature. It appears in Aristophanes, Lucian, the "Arabian Nights," Sir Thomas More, Lord Bacon, Swift, John Buncle, and many others, down to recent times when the theme has become almost as prolific in its varied inventions as that other but somewhat similar one of an imaginary European kingdom. The mould has always been the same, but it has been filled up with different material. Sometimes it has been purely idealistic, sometimes fantastic, sometimes satirical. "Erewhon" combines all three of these elements. We are inclined to think that its ideal- ism, its doctrine of the simple life and a return to nature, rather conflicts with its satire. The end of the book has forgotten its beginning. It will probably be granted that Swift's "Gul- liver's Travels" is the central and best book in this type of literature. "Erewhon," we should say, can fairly claim second place. Written fifty years ago, its satire is not only fresh and effective, but it deals with problems and ideas which are only now begin- ning to stir in the world's mind. There is a curious mixture in the book of ironical satire on modern civilization and a suggested new philosophy of life. The Erewhonian notions about health and crime have not been put into practice by any society the world has known, though they may be in a meas- ure anticipatory of the Nietzschean programme. But Butler's satire on our double standard of Chris- tian and commercial morality, in his description of the "Musical Banks"; his exposure of our higher education in the account of the Colleges of Unrea- Bon, with their "hypothetical" language; his rev- elations about the mythological figures which the Erewhonians worshipped but did not believe in; and his approving comment on Goddess Ydgrun, whom we take to mean Good Sense or Good Form,— all these inventions are deadly thrusts at civilization as it exists to-day. But the most important thing in the book is the 1918] 295 THE DIAL theory as to the danger of machinery. While Butler was in New Zealand he wrote and published there an essay entitled "Darwin among the Ma- chines," and this became the germ of "Erewhon." Briefly, the theory is that machines tend to become a super-race which will in time enslave and crush out the men who make them. The Erewhonians are convinced of this, and destroy all their up-to-date machinery. We think that Swift would have dem- onstrated the horror of these Frankenstein monsters in a more concrete way than Butler has done; but the latter is to be credited with foreseeing a long time ago a very real danger which threatens hu- manity. Machines may never acquire mind and volition, as he suggests they will, but without that they can come near to ruining humanity. On the whole, we must take leave of Samuel Butler with assurances of distinguished respect. He was perhaps too much of a scientist to be a great philosopher, and too much of a dilettante to be a great scientist, but as a satirist he has hit the blot again and again. The grim irony with which the hero of *' Erewhon " is made to tell his project for capturing an 1 selling into slavery his kindly Erewhonian hosts, in order that they may be con- verted to Christianity, is worthy of Swift himself. Charles Leonard Moore. CASUAL COMMENT. Genius in the treadmill is always a pathetic spectacle, however beneficial it may ultimately prove to soaring genius to be forcibly held down to earth for a certain disciplinary period. In the letters (reviewed on another page) of him who, as Mr. Gilder expressed it in his fine tribute to the poet, gave us "the thrill of a brave new song" and "lovely thoughts and mighty thoughts and thoughts that linger long," we have frequent glimpses of the song- ster fretting at the necessity that holds him a bond- slave in the "Chicago themery "—this, of course, re- fers to his instructorship in English at the University of Chicago — when he longs to go "galumphing o'er twin-peaked Parnassus." A few passages from the letters will fill in this picture of William Vaughn Moody beating, with not quite impotent hands, the bars of his prison cell. He did gain his freedom after some years of drudgery, but meanwhile he eased the tension by many a half-serious, half-humorous, and always amusingly extravagant outburst like the following: "If my lines were cast in other places,— even other places in this gigantic ink-blot of a town — I could make shift to enjoy my breath. I should make a very happy and efficient peanut-vender on Clark or Randolph Street, because the rush and noise of the blood in the city's pulse would continually solicit and engage me. The life of a motor-man is not without exhilarating and even romantic features, and an imaginative boot-black is lord of unskirted realms." Again, referring to some vacation hack- writing, he says: "Promptly at 9 o'clock each morn- ing I put on blinders, stuff my ears with wax, and strap myself to the desk, in order to do my day's stint on a text-book on English Literature (God save the mark!) which I have to get a certain portion of done this month." A later letter shows the writer once more at his post. "It has been the very devil to get down to work again, after my long and keenly- relished holiday. Chicago seemed uglier and grim- mer than I had believed possible. There was nothing to do but shut my eyes, put my sensibilities in the lower drawer, and sail in. Gradually the beneficent numbness of drudgery is stealing over me, and that unilluminated dogged patience which constitutes my substitute for moral courage is beginning to possess what in other seasons I am wont to refer to exuber- antly as my soul." Moody was never lacking in "sand" (a favorite term of his), and moreover he was supported by an underlying sense of the essential fairness of the fates in their dealings with him, as witness the following: "Chicago is several kinds of hell, but I won't weary you with asseverations that I am being shamefully victimized by fate; you wont believe it, and besides it's a lie. I am merely paying the market rates for my bread and beer, commodities for which many a better man has been villainously overcharged." ... Linguistic vandalism works its ravages in every age and clime, asserts the sagely observant author of "New Letters of an Idle Man" (noticed more particularly in another column). A paragraph from a letter of his written in 1885 is even more timely now than it was then. He writes: "I was amazed by the extracts from your German friend's letter; and besides, they were interesting as showing how prone is the human mind in all countries to the same kind of idiocies in regard to spelling and that kind of thing, although at present there is doubtless less Blodsinn on the whole in Germany than among us Americans, who in regard to the English language seem to me obstinately bent upon improving it the wrong way. Let us add what we will to the lan- guage, but let us not change it: for no good can come of change: nay, rather much harm: for do we not thus lose connection with the Past? and all our magnificent Earlier Literature is swept into the limbo of Gibberish,—the limbo I mean like unto that in which Chaucer doth languish. By all means take up this topic in your next Monthly Lecture. The topic is of ethical import. It connects itself with the sanctity of Inherited Good, and the vast moral blessing of having conscious root in the Past. It is only gorillas that devour their own offspring, only savages that pass away without leaving trace of their existence. Deepening and preserving race- consciousness, so to speak, is of ethical import. The more civilized is a race, the more it will keep in its consciousness the whole sweep of its Past To pre- serve the language is to preserve this sweep of the Past. What good does it do to write scepter instead of sceptre? go on in this way and a book two hun- dred years old is a strange thing to us; keep on writing sceptre and we keep on being conscious of 296 [Oct 16 THE DIAL possessing the whole Past of our Literature as an integral and familiar possession." That was uttered two decades before the bursting of the storm now venting its fury—impotently, let us hope—on our written speech. One can imagine how much more vehemently the writer would express himself on the same subject to-day. Two views of Plato, strikingly opposite, chanced to present themselves in two notable books that were recently taken up for recreation and re- freshment, and they well illustrate in how great a measure the subjective element enters into all ap- praisal of books and authors. In Professor Oscar Raima's "Story of my Intellectual Life" (the sub- title and the more accurately descriptive title of his "One-Sided Autobiography"), memorable among the books of the year, he says, in comparing Emer- son and Plato: "Similar to this feeling of intense delight which I have found in Emerson is my expe- rience with Plato, only in a far deeper sense; for the faults of Emerson—loose connection, staccato style, lack of philosophical system—are absent from the Greek, whose dialogues are as marvellous in re- gard to form, wit, gentle humor, and dramatic and poetic power, as they are true, deep, far-reaching, and fraught, on every page, with a sense of the abid- ing and eternal." In contrast with the emphasis here laid upon Plato's "form," his freedom from "loose connection" and from "lack of philosophical system," there must now be cited a passage from the second book referred to above, the elaborate "Life and Letters of Benjamin Jowett," by Dr. Evelyn Abltott and Dr. Lewis Campbell, in which it is said of Plato in Jowett's translation that "he was brought before us in his strength and his weak- ness: the poetry, the imagination, the elevation of thought shone out through the English; and on the other hand tlie sophistry of argument, the uncertainty and indeiiniteness of the conclusions, the contradic- tion of various points of view, were not less appar- ent." This is not quite so strong as Mr. Frederic Harrison's outspoken verdict, already quoted by us: "I care for Plato's metaphysics as little as I care for the rhapsodical gammon of Professor Bergson or Miss Marie Corelli"; but it certainly conveys a different impression of Plato's peculiar merits from that gained in reading Professor Kuhns. Luckily, however, we can all go directly to Plato himself. • • • Library lessons for the public, but without entrance examination or graduation certificate, are among the possibilities of the future; yes, even among the actualities of the present. In the "Wis- consin Library Bulletin" Miss Maud van Buren describes certain new and promising "publicity methods" that are being tried in various places. For instance, "interest in the new public library of St. Louis continues to such an extent, and so many visitors desire to be shown through the building, that it has been decided to give special attention to visitors on one evening in every month. On that evening an effort is made to show the whole building to visitors, including parts of it that are not usually open to the public, such as the stock room, the cata- logue and work rooms, the bindery, etc." Then follow some suggestions. "Why not, in the case of a new building, attracting many visitors, make these special evenings occasions for taking your public into your confidence? The layman knows little of the 'inner workings' of a library, and because of his ignorance he is likely to undervalue its importance and the work of the librarian. Here is an oppor- tunity to explain the various processes through which a book must go before the patron gets it The arrangement of the books on the shelves, special collections, the use of the catalogue, the Reader's guide, the clipping and picture collections, and other features not on the surface, might have attention called to them at this time." This throwing open of the penetralia and laying bare of the sacred mys- teries would have horrified all librarians a century ago and some librarians even a quarter-century ago; but, as has already been remarked by someone else, tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in Mis. • • • The first Rollo book was not, as many might suppose, written by Jacob Abbott; it was the product of Xenophon's pen, and was called "Cyropsadia." So we are informed by Mr. Gamaliel Bradford, Jr., who writes of the innocent cause of our schoolboy tears and groans over th